#I can't wait for it to roll around again!

[strwberri-milk]

Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC

Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.

He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.

When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.

If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.

Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.

The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.

He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.

He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.

Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.

When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.

If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.

Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.

Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.

When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.

[yawnzbf]

LDS boys x reader who's quite oblivious to their feelings?!?

| Partner who is quite obvious to the boys’ feelings |

Lnd boys x gn! Oblivious! Reader

Xavier

Xavier will wait for you to realize your feelings on your own terms giving you time and affection

He will be so soft and sweet to you, the man’s just happy to spend time with you

Sometimes while training together, he’d purposely let you win so can watch to celebrate.

When he does something a bit flirty, you’re dumbfounded- ears red eyes unable to meet his.

Though he isn’t the best person around to have in the kitchen, he makes an effort to learn how to cook your favourite dish.

A particularly strong hit from you caught Xavier off guard. He stumbled backwards, feigning a loss of balance, and fell to the floor with a dramatic thud. Concern immediately washed over your face as you rushed forward, your weapon forgotten, to check on your fallen comrade.

"Xavier! Are you alright? I should have been more careful," you said, worry etched across your features as you held him still.

Xavier lay there, seemingly dazed, looking up at you with a mysterious glint in his eyes. A whisper echoed through, "Woah... you look pretty from here."

Your concern shifted to confusion, and you tilted your head, trying to make sense of his words. "Hm? You said something? But I can't believe I was able to defeat one of the top-performing hunters today!" you exclaimed, once you registered the accomplishment, your attention torn between victory and the well-being of your sparring partner.

"Congrats on the win, you did great," Xavier replied, his hands reaching up to gently cup your face. The touch was unexpected, and you blushed slightly at the unexpected closeness. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of admiration and devotion.

Zayne

Zayne, although busy throughout the day, would set aside time for you to spend it with you even when you insist on him utilizing it to rest

His type of love would be acts of service and gift giving, getting you small things

^^ for example when you unconsciously ramble on how you were recently into doodling and sketching so he brings in a sketchbook for you to fill up )):

Or when you wanted to have crushed ice in the middle of the summer, he’d use his evol to help you out

He’d keep in one of your doodles on his office desk- a constant reminder of you that put a smile on his face

Dr. Zayne peered over the rim of his glasses, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. The soft hum of medical equipment echoed in the small examination room, creating an oddly serene backdrop to the unfolding conversation.

"Your heart's racing again," he remarked, the corner of his lips lifting in a half-smile. "May I ask why?"

"Really? I don't know, Dr. Zayne. This happens every time I'm near you. Do you think this is some kind of allergy?" you ask genuinely worried.

Laughter almost spills from his lips at the question, “I don’t think that is medically possible, perhaps this is because of some different matters..” Xavier trails off, eyes hinting at something you aren’t sure of.

While you are left confused- oblivious even to his intentions!

Rafayel

This man will not stop pestering you, constantly throwing flirty lines at you even when you shoot him down again and again :(

Unlike the other two, immediately after he recognizes his own feelings, he’s all over you

Although when the topic of actually confessing comes up, he’s all shy and red in the face, and when you misunderstand his confession- he gets all pouty not talking to you for days

“y/nn!” he whines over the phone, “I need you here right now! You’re my bodyguard, right?! There’s this hideous bug near my canvas, please come quick,” he hurriedly says cutting of the call before you can even reply.

You roll your eyes as you hear his dramatic plea through the phone. It's not the first time he's called you for something trivial. Sighing, you decide to play along with his antics and head to his house.

When you arrive, you find him standing on a chair, gesturing wildly at the bug near his canvas. "Y/nn, thank goodness you're here! This bug is a threat to my masterpiece! Can you please get rid of it?" he says, looking genuinely distressed.

You can't help but chuckle at his exaggerated reaction. "Alright, alright, calm down. It's just a bug," you reassure him. You take a step forward and swat the bug away, making sure to make a show of it. "There, problem solved. Your masterpiece is safe," you tease.

He looks at you with wide eyes, a mix of relief and admiration in them. "You're my hero, y/nn! Always coming to my rescue," he says, a mysterious glint in his eyes. As you share a laugh, you notice a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"You know," he starts, scratching the back of his head nervously, "I... um, appreciate you being around. More than just for bug emergencies, I mean." He glances away, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

He hesitates and finally blurts out, "I like having you around, y/nn. More than just for emergencies." You raise an eyebrow, not fully grasping the weight of his words.

“I mean, I hope you do,” you start, giving him a small smile. Upon hearing your words, he’s not talking to you for the rest of the week, while you wonder if you had said something wrong.

Sorry you had to wait this late but I was busy with moving into uni and lyf happened, although be ready to be fed more often now!!

[daenysx]

for the cinammon girl sleepover!! 2:00 am with poly!wolfstar, nsfw please :))

2.00 AM | POLY!WOLFSTAR

"mm-hmm, so good." sirius whispers to your ear, kissing the skin below it. "you know, you'll sleep so well after this, right? so well, baby, gonna fuck every thought out of your pretty head."

"please, sirius, please." you whimper, helplessly. he's got you in that mushy headspace, your eyes roll back as you try to keep your legs steady around his waist. he looks ethereal with his sweaty skin, his tattoos on display. he's an angel who you can't resist.

remus, your calmer boy, cannot resist his boyfriend too. he looks so soft, in contrast to sirius, he leans to the boy on his knees to kiss him. "such a handsome boy, aren't you?" he pulls sirius's hair gently, cupping the back of his neck with long fingers. sirius moans. "taking good care of our girl. look at you." remus kisses his collarbone, plays with his boyfriend as sirius keeps fucking into you.

"god- keep- keep pulling my hair, like that." sirius whispers, his hips moving at the same time. "i'm so close."

"but we can't have that." remus teases, whispering to sirius's ear as his free hand strokes your belly. "she still hasn't come. don't you think you should wait?"

"i can't- i can't, remus, please." the raven haired boy melts on sheets. "i'm sorry- i'm sorry."

sirius comes without meaning to- not really. that was remus's goal from the beginning and you know that, the teasing glint of his eyes never lies. sirius lies on bed, right next to you. he breathes heavily, poor boy, his hairline aches deliciously.

"i'm sorry- sweetheart- i couldn't-"

you reach for him to stroke his happy trail. "it's okay, baby. he meant to do that, didn't you moony?"

"call me that again." remus groans, taking you to his lap quickly.

"i was so close." you whisper to his ear. "i think you need to fix it, since this is your fault."

sirius's hand doesn't leave yours, remus strokes his hardness before pushing it inside you. you're undeniably wet, fucked out, totally messed up in the middle of the night.

"okay?" he kisses your neck soundly. "good- let me just- there you go. such a pretty girl."

"oh, remus." you moan when he pushes himself deeper. the stretch of muscles is amazing, your mind lingers on the feeling of his hands on your waist. he closes his eyes, fucking himself into you as if it's the only thing he's meant to do. you hold onto him with one arm, the other still touching sirius, waiting for the pleasure to hit you.

"come." remus whispers. "come, dove, for me."

he lies you down next to sirius gently, your muscles clench around him as all the desire leaves you in liquid form. he kisses your chest, his hand longing for his boyfriend. ropes of white mess stains your belly, and remus looks like an angel as he welcomes the pleasure with a groan.

seconds pass. "i'll clean you up." remus says, kissing both of his lovers. "don't fall asleep until i come back."

sirius smirks. it's not gonna be easy.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[chrissturnsfav]

𝒻𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒽 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 | 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

chris sees you walking around the house in nothing but one of his black fresh love hoodies and black lace panties. he can't help but stare, thinking about all that he wants to do to you right now.

ᰔᩚ smut, unprotected p in v, use of y/n, use of pet names (mama, baby, ma), dom!chris, bf!chris, teasing, established relationship, dumbification kink, backshots, LOTS of dirty talk

ᰔᩚ w.c. 1,621

ᰔᩚ this one-shot was inspired by a very similar scenario from another creator, however i can’t find the creators @ :( if you find it, please tag me so i can give credit!

chris is sat on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok as he waits for you to come back downstairs. you had left a few minutes ago to grab a drink, but chris was wondering why the fuck it was taking you a few minutes to get a drink.

your boyfriend is snapped out of his thoughts when you open his bedroom door again, returning. his eyes widen at the sight of you, the clothes you'd been wearing earlier had been discarded. now you were in just one of his black fresh love hoodies and your black thong you already had on, you're holding just a bottle of water.

chris scoffs, sitting up in his bed and resting his hands on his knees, licking his lips, "the fuck did your clothes go?" he says, watching your every move as you climb back onto his bed next to him.

you smirk, shrugging as you twist off the cap on the water, "i dunno. i got kinda hot, i guess."

chris chuckles dryly, looking you up and down as he takes in your body. your bare thighs, the way the straps of your thong sat highly above your hips, the hoodie baggily laying on your body—obvious that you rolled up the bottom so your ass was out.

he shakes his head, clearing his throat before speaking again, "you know what you're doin', y/n."

you chuckle, confused, pretending like you didn't know what he was talking about—knowing damn well you did. "what are you saying, chris?" you say in a sassy tone, putting the water bottle to your lips and taking a few sips.

chris kisses his teeth, looking at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts his position slightly close to your body. "tryna play stupid now? is this what you're doin'?" he says in a low tone, suddenly running a hand up from your knee to your thigh.

you swallow the water, shuddering slightly at his touch before speaking, trying to hide the way he was making you feel, "i don't know what you're talking about," you say softly, staring into his eyes as his blue ones pooled with desire burned back into yours.

chris smirks, his gaze not leaving yours as he rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "yeah. you do," he insists. his hand that ran up your thigh trails to the waistband of your thong, tracing it along your hips and his smirk grows wider when you gasp. "barely even touched ya and you're already gettin' all worked up."

you shake your head, knowing he was right, but you wanted to remain calm and confident, "i'm not worked up," you lie, watching as chris' hand continues to trace the lace pattern on the waistband of your thong.

chris scoffs, looking at his actions, then back up at you before leaning close to your ear, "bet you're all wet down there. should i check?” he teases.

you swallow hard, shaking your head again, "i'm not, chris," you lie straight through your teeth, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

chris tilts his head, swiping his tongue across his lips as he looks at you intently. he chuckles dryly before his hand moves down to run his middle finger across your damp thong. he scoffs when he feels how wet you are, smirking as he hears you gasp at his actions. he leans close to your ear, whispering in it, "liar."

you shudder, gasping again when his hand moves inside your thong, running a finger through your sopping folds and he laughs dryly, watching your eyes flutter closed before he speaks in your ear again, "told ya. soaked."

you whine in response, gasping once again when his two fingers move to rub circles on your clit. your head falls back as chris watches you, his own crotch growing tight at the sight of you.

"p-please..." you whine with your eyes pinched shut, head against his pillows. he chuckles, his actions on your clit only getting faster, "what do ya want, then? tell me," he says, the smirk never leaving his face.

you open your eyes slightly, looking up at him, "i want...i want you to fuck me..." you let out through deep moans.

chris chuckles under his breath, licking his lips, "gotta ask nicely, baby. only good girls get what they want, right?" he growls.

you hum out a moan in response, nodding. "p...please, chris...please i need you now."

chris smirks, nodding his head as he takes his hand out of your thong, "atta girl," he purrs, flipping you over onto your stomach swiftly.

he pulls down his sweatpants just enough to let his now rock-hard length free. he pulls your panties down and off your ankles, throwing them across the bed. your head is pressed against the pillows, anticipating chris' actions as your body overflows with desire.

chris would normally be taking your hoodie off, but you were wearing his brand, and he wanted to fuck you in it. it only made sense. the thought of him fucking you in fresh love only turned him on more.

chris strokes himself a few times, humming quietly before pressing his tip against your core. you groan softly in response and he smirks at your sounds.

without warning, chris pushes into you fully. his lips part as a small moan leaves his mouth, earning a loud one from you.

chris picks up a quick and hard pace, watching as you moan loudly. profanities and his name fall from your mouth and grunts leave his own. he has one hand on your ass, grabbing it roughly and the other on the small of your back, pushing it down to force you to arch.

your eyes are rolling back into your head, brows knit together in pleasure and your lips parted as chris mercilessly pounds into you. "fuck...so fuckin' tight f'me, ma," chris groans and you moan softly in response.

chris' bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows pinched together and he reached a hand around you, pulling your head up by your neck as he leaned his body down so his face was inches apart from yours.

"y'like this shit?" he grunts into your ear, panting against your face. you couldn't respond, only able to focus on the pure ecstasy you're receiving.

chris chuckles out a groan at your expression, watching as you struggle to form words. "'s the matter, ma? 'm that fuckin' good, you can't even talk?"

you force yourself to nod, trying desperately to answer him as his hips only move faster into you. "m...m....y...yeah," you manage to let out in between heavy moans and deep pants.

chris scoffs, watching your face twist in overwhelming pleasure as you practically drool. "look at you. gettin' fucked dumb by my cock," he groans into your ear.

you feel yourself getting closer, knowing you're not going to be able to hold on for long if he asks you to. you whimper out a loud moan, chris' grip on your neck getting tighter. "c...c....chris....s...so close!"

chris chuckles dryly, moving his hand on your ass to your clit, rubbing fast circles on it as he continues to pump in and out of you, "mmm, yeah? already?"

you nod eagerly, moaning as your high gets closer and tears pool at the corners of your eyes at the immense amount of pleasure. "p...p...please...chris...i...can't....can't hold it...." you barely speak.

chris licks his lips, grinning a smirk. "nah, you wanna walk around in that thong wearin' my shit, bein' a tease?" he tuts, "nah, you're gonna hold it f'me."

you cry out a moan, giving everything you have to not cum right on his cock and feeling overstimulated as his thumb on your clit rubs faster. "c...chris! p-pleease...i...i can'ttt!"

chris groans, feeling himself getting close and watching as you struggle to hold back, "ya better not...hold up...almost there—fuck," he grunts.

at this point you're not able to hang on any longer. your eyes are rolled all the way back, mouth fallen open, brows pinched together as you ache for release, "chrisss...fuck! i...i gotta...c...cum! p...please!"

chris feels his orgasm seconds away as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. he moves his thumb on your clit off, placing his hand back on your ass. his grip on your neck becomes slightly tighter and he groans. "shiiit...cum for me, baby."

you waste no time in cumming all over his dick as you yelp out, face grimaced in pleasure. you open your eyes, vision blurred as chris continues to fuck you, helping you ride out your high.

"fuuck, you're gonna make me cum," chris grunts. he hardly thrusts one last time into you before pulling out, releasing his cum on your ass as his eyes roll back and his lips part.

chris breathlessly rolls over next to you, watching your body go limp as you lay on your stomach trying to catch your breath.

"fuck, chris..." you breathe out, closing your eyes in exhaustion as chris pulls his sweatpants and boxers back up.

chris chuckles dryly, looking at you with tired eyes, "wore ya out, huh?"

you nod, moving your body closer to him. he wraps his arms around your waist as you pull the covers over your bodies. you nuzzle your head against his chest, draping an arm lazily across his back.

"want me to get you anything, or you're good?" chris mumbles before resting his chin on top of your head.

you shake your head, eyes fluttering closed. "no...i'm okay...just take a nap with me."

chris chuckles, pulling your body closer to him and intertwining a leg with yours, "yes ma'am," he mumbles.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: yay first smut woohoo (sorry if it wasn't that good, i'm still learning LMAO)! kinda sappy and i don’t love the theme but guys pls lmk if you liked this and what else you would wanna see bc i love love love feedback and wanna give u guys what u want ofc! this also turned out sm longer than expected lol oops...

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[idkyetxoxo]

Davos Blackwood - Do I Wanna Know

Summary - In a heated confrontation between estranged lovers, unspoken truths and unresolved emotions surge to the surface, igniting jealousy and frustration. Within the commotion, raw desire and longing burst forth, driven by an intense, feverish infatuation.

Pairing - Davos Blackwood x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2088

Masterlist for Davos • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sorta hoping that you'd stay. Baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

"You can stay," I said, propping myself up on my elbow, watching as he began to get dressed, his back to me while he fastened the clasps on his clothes. 

The room felt colder with each piece of clothing he put on, and I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment settling in my chest.

"No, I cannot," he replied matter-of-factly, his voice void of any hesitation. I sighed, rolling my eyes and stretching out again, feeling the familiar sting of rejection.

"Of course," I mumbled under my breath, not really intending for him to hear. But he did. He turned back to face me, a questioning look on his face, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You always bolt like this," I added, my voice rising slightly. "Every time we share something, you get up and leave as if it meant nothing."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture I knew all too well. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice sharper now, anger creeping in. "You know it's complicated."

"Complicated?" I scoffed, the word bitter on my tongue. I shook my head, more at myself than at him, wondering how I had once thought this would be different. 

"What's so complicated about wanting to stay?" I pressed on, my voice trembling slightly. "About wanting to see where this could go?"

He shifted uneasily, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the right words were hidden there. 

"I have my reasons," he said finally, but the words felt weak, lacking conviction.

"And I have mine," I shot back, frustration edging my voice. "But I'm here, willing to face whatever comes next. Can you say the same?"

The silence that followed was deafening. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and resolve. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air, the things we couldn't say in the harsh light of day, the truths we only dared to whisper in the dark.

His expression hardened, and he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I wish I could stay," he said eventually, his voice cold and distant. "But I can't. This is how it has to be."

I nodded, trying to keep my emotions in check. 

"Then go," I said quietly, forcing myself to lie back down as if the act of turning away could shield me from the pain welling up inside. My heart ached with the finality of it all, a dull throb that seemed to echo in the empty spaces of my soul. "But don't expect me to wait forever."

He finished dressing quickly, his movements abrupt and filled with a sense of urgency.

As he approached the door, he hesitated for a moment, glancing back at me with a look of finality.

"Don't expect me to come back," he said, his voice carrying a final, unyielding edge.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was left alone in the dim, silent room. The darkness seemed to close in around me, each breath heavy with the weight of unanswered questions and unresolved feelings. 

As I stared into the void, I couldn't shake the feeling that this might truly be the end, the final chapter of a story that had once seemed so full of promise.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"It's my pleasure, Lord Tully," I said with a playful smile, reaching out to accept the delicate flower he offered. 

His fingers brushed lightly against my hand before he lifted the flower to place it gently in my hair, his fingers brushing against my temple. The touch was soft, almost reverent.

"Please, call me Oscar," he said, stepping back to admire the flower nestled in my hair.

"Does it look pretty?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. I knew he was watching, I knew he could hear, and I knew he was angry.

"Absolutely beautiful," Oscar murmured, his voice low and filled with genuine admiration. His eyes drifted from the flower to my face, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of the figure lurking in the corner. His jaw was set, his fists clenched at his sides. For a man who vowed not to return, he surely held a great fascination with my whereabouts.

The figure in the shadows stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. 

"Is everything all right here?" Davos asked, his voice dripping with barely concealed anger. His gaze swept over Oscar as if trying to dissect the sincerity behind his smile.

"Yes, everything is fine," I said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. "Oscar was just showing me this beautiful flower."

Davos's eyes flicked to Oscar, his expression hardening. "You should be careful, Lord Tully. Not everything is as it seems."

Oscar straightened, meeting Davos's gaze head-on. "I assure you, my intentions are nothing but honourable."

"Intentions can be misleading," Davos shot back, his eyes narrowing.

The room felt like a battlefield, with me standing in the middle, trying to hold the line.

"Thank you, Oscar," I said again, more firmly this time. "The flower is lovely."

Oscar nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

As the door closed behind him, I turned sharply to face Davos, his eyes piercing through the dim light.

"Was that necessary?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness.

His eyes flared with jealousy, the intensity of his gaze searing through me like a brand. "You're really going to entertain him right in front of me?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his gaze with a defiant stare. "You have no right to be jealous. You walked out. You left me."

"I left because I had to," he shot back, his voice rising with an edge of defensiveness. "It wasn't a choice, it was something I needed to do. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."

"Caring?" I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "You think you can just walk out and then come back expecting everything to be the same? You made your choice, Davos. You decided to leave."

His expression softened for a fleeting moment, a glimmer of vulnerability breaking through his hardened exterior. But it was short-lived. 

"I've thought it through. I want you. I've always wanted you," he said, his voice heavy with earnestness. "I realize that now more than ever."

I looked at him, incredulous. "So you come crawling back now, expecting me to just forget everything?"

"Yes," he said, his voice raw and honest. "Because I can't stand the thought of losing you. I can't bear the idea of you moving on without me."

We stood there, staring at each other, the air thick with unresolved emotions and unspoken words. The tension between us was electric, and before I could process what was happening, we both lunged at each other.

Our lips met in a desperate, fiery kiss, years of longing and regret pouring out in that single, explosive moment. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, as if afraid I might slip away. I responded with equal fervour, clutching his tunic, wanting to hold onto him and never let go.

The kiss was a mix of anger, passion, and deep-seated love, a testament to the complicated relationship we had always shared. Without another word, he lifted me onto the table behind us, his hands firm and possessive. 

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and pulled the flower from my hair. With a determined expression, he crushed it in his hand, the petals falling to the floor like forgotten promises.

I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the gesture breaking the tension. He grinned, a flash of his old self shining through, before capturing my lips in another searing kiss. His hands roamed my body, caressing and exploring, igniting a fire within me that I couldn't quench.

He pushed me back gently, laying me down on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. The cool surface beneath me contrasted with the heat of his touch, sending shivers down my spine. He leaned over me, his breath hot against my ear. 

"I've missed you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Show me," I whispered back, my hands finding their way to his belt, tugging it free.

In a frenzy of passion and urgency, we shed our clothes, the room filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing and whispered confessions. 

His focus was entirely on me, he trailed kisses down my neck, his hands exploring every inch of my body. 

"I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt before," he promised, his voice husky.

He paused, looking deeply into my eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his tone serious.

I pretended to ponder his question, a playful smile tugging at my lips, before nodding. "Yes, I trust you," I replied.

His eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and excitement. He reached for a piece of cloth, tying it gently around my eyes. The darkness heightened my senses, every touch of his fingers on my skin more electrifying than the last.

With my vision obscured, I felt his lips return to my neck, his kisses trailing lower and lower. 

"I want you to feel everything," he whispered against my skin. His hands caressed my sides, moving with a tender yet firm pressure that made me gasp.

He explored every part of me with an intensity that made my body tremble. His lips and hands seemed to be everywhere at once, drawing soft moans and shivers from me. 

The anticipation, the uncertainty of his next move, made each sensation even more powerful.

As his lips travelled down my body, I felt a surge of pleasure unlike anything before. "Davos," I breathed, my voice shaky with need.

"Just feel," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. His words were a command and a promise, a pledge to make me experience every moment fully.

He entered me slowly, savouring the moment. Without my sight, the sensation was magnified, every movement sending waves of pleasure through me. I arched my back, a gasp escaping my lips. 

The rhythm we found was driven by desperation and need, a physical manifestation of the emotional storm that had brought us to this point.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

"I want you," I gasped, my body responding to his every touch. "I need you, Davos."

"Perfect," he murmured, increasing his speed. His mouth found my collarbone, sucking and nibbling softly at the skin. Each bite sent a shiver through me, the pleasure mingling with a sweet ache. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer.

The intensity built, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge. My senses were overwhelmed, every touch, every kiss, driving me higher. I could feel the tension coiling within me, a tight, burning need that threatened to consume me.

"Davos," I cried out, my voice a desperate plea.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. "I've got you."

With a final, powerful thrust, we both surrendered to the climax, our cries intertwining in the heated space between us. The sensation surged through us like an unstoppable force, a wave of pleasure so intense it left us shivering and gasping for air.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he shifted slightly, his hands moving with a deliberate tenderness. Gently, he untied the cloth that had been concealing my eyes. The fabric slipped away, and I blinked as the room came into focus.

The sight of his face was almost overwhelming. His expression was a mix of relief, adoration, and a deep, unspoken emotion. He looked at me as though seeing me for the first time, his eyes drinking in the flushed, satisfied expression on my face. 

The connection between us felt electric, charged with the intensity of what we had just shared.

I reached up, my fingers brushing his face, feeling the warmth and firmness of his skin beneath my touch. 

"Did you feel everything?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and satisfaction.

I smiled, my eyes meeting his with a mix of joy and contentment. "Yes," I whispered, "every single moment."

Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I've thought it through. Crawling back to you.

A/n - Tbh I don't love this one, it didn't really go how I had it planned out in my head but I hope someone out there does lmaoo.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Heya love,

Thank you for taking my request! I hardly think you can ever disappoint!

So, Autumn Court is a rather traditional court, and we know how discriminating against females it is.

Picture Rhys and the IC being invited to Autumn for whatever reason may it be. There, he decides to wander through the grounds. Somewhere in a secured area within the forest, he finds a female sitting by herself—too gentle and demure to belong to Autumn.

She’s shy in her discourse and neglects to tell him who she is. Eris pops up suddenly and pries the female away from him in a manner that’s too protective and possessive to be friendly.

Later on, Rhys realizes that this young female is Beron’s only, and youngest daughter. Secluded from prying eyes, Beron has made sure no one knew who she is until he was ready to marry her off.

But when Rhys finds out, and the mating bond snaps for him, he’s ready to fight for her. Going as far as to ask for Eris’ help, who happens to be extremely close and protective of his baby sister.

I hope that was clear enough and not at all confusing. Take your time with it, love! And feel free to change any detail you deem necessary.

Thanks again🩷

This

Is

Perfect!!!!

Thank you so much🤩💕I love it so much that the story started to play in my head on its own and continued even in the dream. Hopefully, you'll like it

Moon princess

Word count: 9600+ (oops)

Warnings: mentions of Beron, court machinations, swear words, but no fights and no blood this time

I'm thinking about writing another part where they are slowly getting to know each other. Which I originaly wanted to add into this one, but tumblr stopped cooperating somewhere around 5k words in, messes up with saved text and takes forever to respond. Message is clear, I guess I have again too many WIPs in drafts. It happens all the time 🙄 Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Rhysand threw the pen on the desk and sighing leaned back in his big leather chair. Since early morning he was sitting in the office, writing letters, reading reports and sorting out complaints according to the urgency. It was already past lunchtime, but he didn't get even half through all the documents. He needed some distraction at least for few minutes.

In the very nick of time, the doors flew open and Cassian casually strode in, a massive sandwich in one hand, a piece of paper in the other one. He held only the corner of it between index finger and thumb, glaring at it as if someone had used it as a tissue.

"So.. What are we going to do with the invitation?" he asked with a full mouth.

"What invitation?" Rhys looked up, tired. This was hardly the kind of distraction he wished for.

"This one," general waved the paper. He flopped down to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "From the Autumn Court."

Rhysand frowned. "I got invitation?" he asked with feigned calm.

"Yup," Cassian took another bite from his sandwich, a bit of dressing dripped on his shirt, but he didn't seem to even notice it. Rhys' mouth twitched.

"Oh, really? And remind me, when exactly did I get it?"

"Few weeks ago. Helion also got one. He wants to know what we assume about it and whether we will accept or no. He's still waiting for the answer by the way."

Rhysand raised brows at him. "So you wrote to Helion."

"Nope, he wrote to you right after getting it."

That was the last drop. Closing eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "I think that we already talked about this at least a million times before, Cass. You can't take my mail, open it, read it and then keep it in your room."

Cassian threw up his hands and the dressing and slice of tomato flew out of the sandwich, landing on Rhys' expensive carpet. Rhysand eyed the stain, blood boiling in his veins.

"I don't do anything like that, bro! You know me. Plus, I don't remember that we've ever talked about such rule."

"That isn't rule I made up. It's called postal secret and privacy. Now bring all my mail! Immediately!"

"Fine, fine," Cassian fumed and rolled his eyes, but at last he stood up, throwing the invitation on the desk and left.

When the doors closed behind him, Rhys flicked his wrist and stain from the carpet disappeared. Then he reached for the invitation and cursed because it was smeared with dressing, too. Rhys licked his dirty fingers, commendably humming and wiped the rest of the dirt with tissue. His stomach loudly rumbled, reminding him that he should head out for some food soon.

He unfolded the paper, quickly scanning the text. Beron was inviting him and his family to a week of festivities on the occasion of a significant announcement. There wasn't written anything else, no more details. Rhysand sighed heavily, drumming with the fingers. His brain coils were working at full speed.

'Significant announcement'

What could it be? Considering that it was Beron, it couldn't be anything good. Because of Cassian, they had last two days left to prepare. He needed to know at least what to expect, so he could work up some plan later.

Azriel?

Claws of his power knocked on Azriel's mental shields. He answered right away, letting him in.

What?

Where are you now? Are you busy?

I'm preparing for the mission we talked about yesterday.

Rhysand considered it for moment, biting on his lower lip. Forget that thing for now or entrust it to someone else. This is urgent.

Azriel answered without hesitation. Fine. Are you in your office?

Rhysand loved how pragmatic Shadowsinger was. No questions. All he needed to hear to drop current job was that it was urgent. He didn't question him. Yes.

I'll be there in a minute.

When Az arrived, half hidden in his shadows as usual, he showed him the invitation and explained the situation. Azriel actually laughed when he heard how Cassian came, asking what was the plan. After that, he immediately disappeared in his shadows, heading to contact the spies they had in Autumn Court.

As expected, Azriel returned shorty before they were supposed to leave for the party. His spies didn't know much, only that Beron was secretly planning something big, the wards around his castle were strengthened and that the frequency of the correspondence between him and Spring Court increased in last two months. There was no time to contact spies in Spring whether they knew something more. Azriel planned to use the time they would spend in the Forest House to spy on Beron and learn more.

It was decided that only Rhys, Az and Cass would go. He didn't even try to ask Mor because he already knew the answer. However, he asked Amren and she clearly refused. She literally said that she would rather give up all her jewellery than listen to a single word of that old, pathetic excuse of a male.

Rhysand winnowed them to the Autumn Court close to the borders of the High Lord's estate. As soon as the world around them stilled, the brisk smell of autumn hit their noses. At gates, a dozen of soldiers stood on guard, armed to the teeth. They eyed them suspiciously, but let them pass. The three of them exchanged look as they stepped in, feeling the strong pressure.

"Putting up so strong wards and then inviting guests, one would think that your High Lord is planning something evil or he got himself a gem of size of his head," Rhys purred, but none of the soldiers even as much as blinked. Pursing lips he nodded. "Sharp guys. I wonder if they would stay still even if we started cutting off their limbs."

"I'm sure they would scream like females," Cassian grinned, folding arms on his chest.

"Are you trying to terrorise our guards, Rhysand?" a sly, bored voice spoke from somewhere behind them. They slowly turned around, arrogant as ever.

"Eris," Rhysand flashed his best cocky smile and shoved hands into pockets. "We are just merely testing them. Since when are heirs on the duty to come to the gates and welcome guests?"

"Ever since the so-called guests are mutts from Night Court," he snarled back, picking non-existent dirt from under fingernails.

Azriel was as always calm and composed, avoiding any attention, but Cassian was his opposite. He straightened up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and gritting teeth. "It's a good custom for the host to respect the guests, especially if they were invited, not to insult them. In Autumn, good manners seem not to be taught though."

Eris didn't react, only scoffed. He turned on the heel and started to walk towards the castle surrounded by reds and yellows. He showed them to their chambers connected by private sitting room, briefly informing them about the time of the evening party and that someone would come to show them the way later.

With a free access to the castle, Azriel didn't waste a minute and as soon as Eris left, he disappeared into the shadows to snoop around.

The party took place in a fancy ballroom. Rhys snorted at the sight of pure opulence, shoving hands into his pockets. Everything in this huge room was made of white marble with gold details, including a high vault ceiling. It was so polished that it looked like a mirror.

Autumn aristocracy and several of the High Lords were already here, so Rhys made a show of checking his appearance, keeping his mask of ruthless arrogance.

He had to admit that Beron knew how to show off his wealth. Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, flooding room with bright light. In the vases next to each marble pillar around the perimeter of the room were big bouquets of flowers made out of gold and copper. The start of the party was planned for the sunset, so the whole room looked like made of gold. Amren would love this for sure.

Rhysand wouldn't let it show on his face, but inside he felt sick. It was overdone and suffocating. And he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Cassian was openly showing his disgust, Azriel scanned the surrounding from under his frowning brows, arms crossed on his chest.

"Finally some friendly faces and my favourite ones," a rich playful voice boomed on their left. Azriel rolled his eyes, not bothering to even look at the coming person and murmuring something about the need of a strong drink, he left. Rhysand with a cocky smile turned in time to see Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, giving a hug to Cassian.

"Good to see you, friend," he purred.

Helion hooked a muscular arm around his shoulders and winked. "What do you say about the host's taste?" he pointed with his chin to the ballroom, speaking lowly only for his ears.

"I say you must feel like home here," Rhys snorted.

Helion pursed his full lips, thinking about it. "Not really. But the drinks are good here," he swirled the golden liquid in his glass and waved them, already heading to the crowd. "I hope to see you later in the privacy of your room, so we can catch up."

Rhysand gave him just nod and his eyes turned to the dais in the same moment as High Lord of Autumn with his wife and sons appeared. Rhysand tried to keep his face emotionless as his eyes fell to the Lady of Autumn. He hated to see the visibly mistreated female, something about her reminding him of his late mother even though unlike Lady of Autumn she was strong and wild and didn't let his father to treat her badly. Maybe it was the motherly vibes they both shared.

He rather averted his gaze to the gathered crowd and half listening to Beron's speech, let his powers lurk around, looking for any useful information he could get from these people. His violet-blue eyes searched for Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring, between the High Lords. Maybe if he played it off well, he could find out more about the business Autumn and Spring were cooking up, but his golden hair and tall figure were nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, Beron finished his boring speech with a promise of the big announcement on the end of this week of festivities. Rhysand despised the idea of waiting for the whole week. He needed to know what was going on in order the prepare for it, eventually come up with plan to sabotage it. The sooner he knew, the better.

He tried to find Azriel's mind in the crowd to give him orders, but with satisfaction he realized that Shadowsinger wasn't anywhere nearby, most likely already snooping around High Lord's quarters where he intended to send him. That male was a real workaholic.

As the evening progressed, Rhysand got even more bored. Chat with other invited High Lords led to nothing as none of them wanted to discuss anything of real importance at place where they could be easily heard by wrong persons. Cassian was cleaning plates, Azriel was who-knows-where and even Eris seemed to slip out to the night.

In need of fresh, cool air he moved to the terrace and then down to the gardens, looking for a quiet, dark corner where he could blow out the steam. The sounds of party slowly grew distant, number of guests on an evening stroll decreased. Rhysand didn't want to be disturbed, so he walked more deeper into the dark gardens. Thinking that he found the secluded place he needed, he looked around, noticing guards pacing on the edge where gardens turned into a forest. That piqued his interest. What could possibly be worth of guarding in the forest?

He merged with the night, getting pass the guards unnoticed. It was too easy and thus it was no fun. He hoped for at least a small hitch to make tonight interesting. Hopefully, whatever was hidden there, would be worth of the effort and provide him with some sort of excitement.

He dragged through the forest looking right and left, searching for something that didn't fit in. After half an hour he was ready to call it off, marking it as a great waste of time, when he noticed a soft light behind the thick bush. Carefully stalking closer, he stayed hidden in the darkness of autumn forest and took a look around.

There, hidden behind bushes and trees, spread out a clearing bathing in the cool silver light of full moon and in the middle of that on a fallen tree trunk sat the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Her petite figure with soft features and porcelain skin glowed in the night. Dark brown silky hair fell in waves to her tiny waist. Dressed up in light, white dress that reflected the moonlight, surrounded by hundreds of fireflies, the small female looked like being of another world. Devouring that fragile beauty, he suddenly remembered the bedtime story mother used to tell him, his most favourite one. How could he forget it?

The story was about Moon Princess who spent her entire life, night after night watching Fae live, dance, laugh and love. Her desire to spend at least one day with them and experience the same things they did, grew so strong that she got sick, slowly fading away. When her father, Moon King, learnt about her desire, he decided to grant her her wish in order to save life of his only daughter. And so Moon Princess descended from the moon to the clearing in the deep forest, instantly feeling better.

At that time, young prince happened to be in the forest on his way back home, witnessing her descent. He immediately fell in love with her and took her to his castle. Gradually, she fell in love with the prince, but when the month her father granted her was coming to its end, she became sad and again fell ill. Her father couldn't stand to see his daughter suffer so much and allowed her to stay with her prince. After some time they got married, had a lot of children and grew old together.

When Rhys was younger, he dreamt about finding his own Moon Princess and having his happily ever after with her. Seeing this gentle creature in the woods now, he felt like he was witness of descent of Moon Princess he waited for. She took the air from his lungs and captivated his heart. Before he knew what he was doing, he stepped out from the shadows. Not wanting to scare her off, he cleared his throat, making as much noise as possible on his way to the fallen trunk.

Despite his efforts, she winced, covering lips like petal of rose flower with her delicate hands with elegant long fingers. Her doe eyes of colour of deepest sea gazed up at him. Recovering from the initial shock, she blushed, readying to run away.

"Don't! Please, stay. I mean no harm," he raised both of his hands, trying to calm her down. She was like a frightened animal. Rhysand assumed it would be for the best if he introduced himself.

"I'm Rhysand and I'm guest of the High Lord of Autumn. I was just on a walk when I noticed you sitting here alone. Are you lost?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"What Court are you from? I happen to know all High Lords. I can help you get to the right one."

"I'm.. from here," she spoke shyly, her voice sounded to him like the sweetest melody. He swallowed hard, his palms sweating. What was wrong with him? He was feared High Lord who had more lovers in his life than he could count, yet he felt like inexperienced youngling.

"Can.. can I sit down here with you?" he asked out of breath.

How pathetic, Rhysand, he scolded himself. You finally found female of your dreams and you behave like total idiot. Bravo! She will certainly fall for you and agree to meet you again. You need to come with something better than this.

She bit on her lower lip, considering it, but at last she nodded, moving as far from him as she could. Rhys put on his most dazzling and kindest smile and sat down next to her. She blushed even more.

"The moon tonight is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lord, I suppose it is."

Rhysand snorted. "I'm not your lord. Please, call me Rhysand or just Rhys if you want. How should I call you?"

Female nervously fidgeted her fingers. "I think I should go." She was about to stand up.

Rhys' hand shot up instinctively, his fingers firmly but gently wrapped around her wrist. Mother above, she was so small and fragile like a porcelain doll. "Please, stay. I understand. No names."

She weakly twisted her wrist in his grasp and he let her go. She sat back down and Rhys sighed with relief, licking his lips. He wanted to make her speak more, yearning to listen to her voice from now until the end of his life.

"Do you come out here often?"

"I'm not allowed to go out much," she whispered hardly audibly, her shoulders slumped.

"How so?" Rhys asked with concern, his gaze again roaming over her petite body. However, he didn't get the answer.

Eris emerged from between the trees, his features twisted in anger.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed and taking female's hand yanked her to his chest. He looked her up and down, checking her for any injury quite roughly.

"Hey! Stop treating her like that! You are hurting her, asshole," Rhysand couldn't stop himself, his mask naturally slid down to its place and he was again fearsome High Lord. He stood up baring his teeth, ready to fight him off if necessary. He wouldn't mind to even kill him to protect this Moon Princess, as he decided to call her until she told him her name, and maybe even after that.

Female's eyes widened at him, but she didn't dare to say a word.

"How did you get here, Rhysand?! This is a private place where guests aren't allowed. If anything, the fact that guards stand at entrance to the forest, should make it more than clear."

"And you," he turned to the female. "What did you do here with this bastard? Why didn't you immediately leave when he appeared? If he finds out what happened here, we both will have a serious problem! Do you even understand that?"

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to leave, but.." she mumbled, cringing, her face pale.

"But what?! Return to your room! Now!"

"I don't know and don't even care who she is to you, but I won't allow you to talk like that with her," Rhys grabbed front of Eris's shirt, staring him down. He was only a few inches taller than the Autumn heir, though the effect was the same.

Female gaped at him in shock, but as soon as Eris let go of her arm, she backed few steps, then turned around and ran away. Rhys wanted to ran after her to make sure she wasn't hurt, but he banned himself to even move. His outburst was bad enough, giving out too much.

They stared at each other, heaving.

"Back off, Rhysand!" Eris snarled lowly.

"No!" he growled back. "Who is she?"

"That's none of your business," Eris glared at him, unmoved.

"Now when I met her, it is my business. I won't just stand by and watch someone hurt females for absolutely no reason."

Pushing him away, Eris burst into fit of laughter. "Good joke, Rhysand, really. Maybe you should clean up your own yard before you start poking your nose into other people's affairs." With that he left, heading in the same direction as the female.

Rhys just stood there, taken aback, gazing after his receding back. He didn't want to admit it, but Eris was right. There was still too much to improve in his Court, but that didn't mean Eris had any right to point it out. In this regard, Autumn wasn't any better than Night.

Later that night Rhysand was pacing in their sitting room, while Azriel and Cassian watched him from couch with concern.

"Don't you want to finally tell us where you disappeared?" Cassian groaned, sipping his drink.

"Did you find anything out?" Azriel added. Ever since he returned he was frowning, angry that he not only couldn't find anything useful, but also that Beron's office and chambers were so warded that he wouldn't be able to get in even if he had a whole month for it.

"Nothing like that," Rhysand growled. The thought of the female and her scared gaze where eating him up. He needed to see her, to make sure she was all right. But where to look for her? Then his gaze fell to his brother, half hidden in his shadows. If anyone was able to find her, then only he.

"Fine, so listen up," he groaned. While still pacing back and forth, he told them everything about his encounter with her and described every detail he remembered.

Azriel listened him attentively, nodding at last. "I will look for her while spying around. But I have to warn you - don't keep high hopes. There's an entire part of castle where I nor my spies couldn't infiltrate no matter how many times we tried it. And we work on that for years. If she is held captive in this castle, they can keep her there."

Rhysand sighed and ran hand through his hair. Eris knew her, but he wouldn't tell him anything. Could she be his lover? Or some secret fiancée? Wife? Or she belonged to another Vanserra? Just imagining that such fragile, young female was here to satisfy Beron's needs made him feel sick.

He needed to calm down, to do something to change the flow of thoughts, so he stepped to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. He emptied the glass in one gulp, the liquor burning his throat. He grimaced and poured himself another glass. He sat down.

Cassian and Azriel started to discuss something, but he couldn't focus on their words even if he wanted. He could still see her in front of him, surrounded by silver moonlight, beautiful and so unearthly. He was only snapped out of the memory when Cassian put his big hand on his knee.

"Stop it," he muttered in amusement. "It's nerve-wracking when you nonstop tap your foot. Even Azriel here is getting nervous because of you."

"I don't-"

"You do," Azriel nodded, corners of his mouth twitching. With raised brow he looked at Cassian. "What do you think? Finally?"

"Finally," general agreed.

Rhys was confused. "Finally what?" he snapped.

"You are in love," Cassian howled with laughter and Azriel joined him shortly.

"I'm not in love. I'm just worried," Rhysand retorted, crossing hands on his chest and almost tipped the drink on his expensive shirt.

"And now he's even blushing like an innocent schoolgirl," Cassian was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"What's so funny?" Helion appeared on the threshold, light smile playing on his lips.

"Nothing. They are just two bored idiots," Rhysand groaned. Helion was the last person he wanted to find out about his encounter. High Lord of Day was the worst gossiper in entire Prythian.

"Oh, c'mon. I want to laugh, too. I'm bored here. This is the worst Court to be in."

"Because you would like to make out with a certain lady who is out of your reach?" Rhysand grinned. This lifted his spirit a bit.

Helion groaned, flopping onto other couch. "Don't even remind me of that matter."

To that Cassian started to laugh even harder.

Helion frowned at him. "Is he okay?" Rhysand only shook his head.

"Two lovesick birds," Cassian tried to calm down, Azriel next to him was massaging his hurting cheeks. He hadn't laughed so much in ages.

Helion watched them with wolfish grin and shiny eyes. "Idiots or no, I'd love to see them worn out in my bed anyway."

Azriel stopped smiling immediately, the idea had never been to his taste. Cassian just shrugged. "Maybe some other time, but thanks," he playfully winked at Lord of Day who obscenely ran teeth over his lower lip.

"I'm already waiting for the day."

Rhysand cleared his throat, grinning. "So.. Did you come for something specific or just to make obscene proposal to my brothers?"

"Actually, yes," Helion smiled, still undressing his long-term targets with eyes. "I and other High Lords are worried. You certainly already heard about something going on between Autumn and Spring."

"Sure, I did."

"I didn't see Tamlin at party tonight. I have quite bad feeling about this."

"Me too, friend," Rhysand swirled the golden liquor in the glass. "Me too."

"I guess that you don't have more detailed information on this matter that you could share with me."

"Unfortunately, I know just as much as you and the others. Azriel here is trying to find out something while we are here and his spies are snooping around in Spring, but we haven't heard anything new from them, have we?" He turned to Shadowsinger who only shook his head.

"But if you find out something, you will share it with us, right?"

"Of course I will. I can imagine only one scenario in which Beron is after the access to the Wall and human lands. We both know very well what it would mean."

"Do you think that Tamlin would allow such thing?" Cassian asked seriously.

"We can only hope that he has enough common sense to not allow it," Rhysand emptied his second glass.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

The week of festivities passed quickly. Beron prepared all kinds of activities to keep his guests entertained. Rhysand had stopped counting the number of hunts, competitions and banquets he absolved right after the first day.

Azriel spent most of the time in the shadows, spying all around the castle, following Beron like hound, but there were no news about the female nor the plans Lord of Autumn had.

Rhys started to have very bad feeling about this all and grew nervous with every passing day in dark. He kept his eyes on Eris who was obviously ignoring him, hoping he would make a mistake and take him to the female. However, Eris, the cunning fox, after the first ball never left the room, participating on every event from the beginning to the very end.

When it was finally time for the last ball, Rhysand was so nervous and irritated that even his brothers were avoiding the conversation with him. And he wasn't the only one. All gathered High Lords seemed to have enough of this shit show and masquerade, waiting only for the big announcement.

That evening, the atmosphere in the ballroom was suffocating, none of the Lords bothered to tune off their powers anymore. When Beron with his family appeared on the dais, five pairs of hostile eyes gazed at him from the crowd, waiting.

Thank you for coming and blah blah blah, Rhysand didn't really listen that old asshole, not until Tamlin appeared on the dais next to Beron who announced that they were intending to make an alliance together. Tamlin seemed to be taken aback to see everyone and to hear that they spent the whole week here, so apparently he wasn't invited for the shit show nor Beron bothered to notify him about the recent events.

"And to confirm my good intentions, my only daughter, Selene, will marry Tamlin," Beron declared.

The wave of shock ran through the crowd. As it seemed, even Autumn aristocracy didn't know about the existence of the mentioned daughter. High Lords looked at each other. Their worst fears had come true. Beron was after free access to the Wall.

However, right at that moment, it was the last thing Rhysand cared about. The doors behind Beron again opened and from the dark of the hallway a small figure emerged. Dressed in dress of moonlight colour with dark brown waves styled into a complicated hairstyle, his Moon Princess walked into the room. She looked up and their eyes locked. Exactly as that night in the forest, her beauty took all the air from his lungs, but it wasn't the only thing that happened at that moment.

Something inside him broke, the crack so loud everyone in the room had to hear it. And in that hole in the middle of his chest, a shimmering gold thread formed, blooming like a flower. The thread shot out, bridging over the entire room. Gently touching his Moon Princess, it wrapped around her and bound their souls together.

Rhysand watched it all with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth. As understanding hit him, he wavered and took a small step back, shocked. Beron's daughter was his mate. The Mother had a strange sense of humor, but in certain way it made sense. The feeling he had when he saw her on the clearing, the pull, the need to make sure she was safe. Of course she was his mate.

"What's going on?" Azriel, always the most attentive, as the only one noticed his moment of weakness.

Rhys couldn't take eyes off of her, barely managing to force his lungs to work again. "She's.. she's my.." He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Azriel's eyes also widened, jumping between him and the female. Even Cassian who overheard them, gaped at him.

"Are you sure?" Rhysand gave him a look and Azriel shook his head. "Of course, you are. Whatever you decide to do now, you can count on me," he said darkly, tendrils of shadows dancing around him.

"And on me," Cassian pat him on the back.

After the shocking announcement, the party was naturally over or at least for High Lords certainly, as they all left right away.

Helion stopped briefly at the doors of their chambers with grave expression to tell them that all the High Lords agreed that the wedding must not take place. For some reason they expected that the Night Court would take care of that, but they were ready to assist them if needed.

Honestly, Rhysand didn't remember much from what had happened after the bond snapped for him, not even how he got back home and to his bed. He lay there in the dark, unable to sleep, all the satin sheets suddenly too scratchy and insufferably hot. His mind was nonstop returning to the only thought - he had a mate and she needed his help.

He tried to analyse the moment when it snapped for him. He was curious whether she felt it too. Though, no matter how many times he replayed the scene in his head, he couldn't find a proof she felt it. Her eyes were sad, her expression shy and guarded. She walked into the room, stopped at Tamlin's side and accepted his waiting hand without a single wobble. She was shivering like leaf in the cold breeze, but all for the different reasons. At dawn he finally came to conclusion that she didn't know about the bond.

He kicked off the blanket and changed. He was determined to solve this problem as soon as possible. He wouldn't leave his mate in hands of any other male.

The Town House was completely silent when he ran down the stairs taking two at a time. The wedding was supposed to take place on the day of the autumnal equinox. That left him only a month to solve this. He didn't have much time and had to start right away. He rushed into his office, almost breaking the doors, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. Quickly he scratched letter and without reading it again sent it. He waited for the reply whole day, without leaving his office. He didn't even eat nor sleep. When there was no answer, next morning he wrote another letter.

Nobody came asking him what to do. His family already knew where they were needed the most. Azriel took all his spies and dividing them into two groups, he sent one group to Spring, the other one under his lead headed to Autumn.

Cassian collected all information and maps they had of the Forest House and looking for places where wedding could take place, he began preparing plans from kidnapping the bride before the ceremony to snatching her from groom's hands before they could say their yes.

Amren shut herself up in her apartment, searching old books with ancient magic for the ways how to break through wards.

For Mor, this was hard. She couldn't be much of help in this case, so she took it upon herself to take care of her cousin and made sure that he ate three times a day, took shower and tried to rest. She gladly accepted the role of an emotional support, listening to all his worries and self-loathing whenever he was in mood to talk.

On the fifth day when there was still no answer, Rhysand decided that he wouldn't wait any longer. He only had a limited amount of time and it was inexorably running out.

Without invitation he winnowed to the clearing near Tamlin's manor in Spring. As expected, it took only mere seconds and Tamlin appeared in his beast form, ready to turn the intruder into shreds. When he saw Rhysand waiting for him, he slowed down.

"What are you doing here?" he growled angrily. "I thought that not sending a reply is quite a clear answer."

"So you read the letters. I need to speak with you. You are doing enormous mistake-"

"That is not your business!"

"The problem is that it is my business. It's all High Lords' business, for the fuck's sake! You are going to open for Beron a way to the Wall!"

Tamlin snorted. "No, I'm not. I would do no such thing!"

"But yes, you are. Why else would Beron want to make an alliance with Spring?!"

"I can assure you that he won't get to the Wall."

"You are wrong and you know it. Whatever is going on, it won't take long and he will get what he wants."

Tamlin just gazed at him, muscles in his jaw ticking.

"What is it what you need so much that you are willing to work even with that old bastard, Tam?"

The beast's gaze wavered, but he wouldn't give in so easily.

"Tam, talk to me. We used to be friends and damn good friends. If it is a help you are looking for, I'll send you any kind of help. Do you need more soldier? You can have them. Money? Bride? Skilled officials to help you rule the Court? You can have it all, you just need to tell me. But don't go into alliance with Beron.."

Tamlin seemed to consider his offer. "I-.. I have tied hands.. I'm trying, but I shouldn't have been ruler.. I'm not built for state affairs. Everything is falling apart and now.. my advisers gave me an ultimatum.. They ask for heir otherwise they will leave me alone in this mess.."

Rhysand blinked in surprise at sudden honesty. With Tamlin, they had a lot of bad blood standing between them like a wall. Ever since Rhys' mother and sister were killed and he and his father killed Tamlin's family in return, they had hardly spoken. This was definitely progress or so he thought.

"I don't need your help, Rhysand," Tamlin murmured, "return to your Court before I make you." Tamlin pivoted, heading back into the forest.

Rhysand planned to solve this without mentioning Selene and the bond, but now there was no other way. Tamlin didn't want to listen and wouldn't accept his offer. This was the last thing that could change his mind.

"You can't marry her!" he called after Lord of Spring.

The beast stopped and looked back at him. "Why can't I?"

"Because.. she is mine."

Tamlin snorted, again moving.

"She's my mate." Rhys only whispered it, but the sweet spring breeze carried the words to his former friend. The beast halted in the middle of the step and fully turned to him. He searched him for any hint of lie, but when he found none, the emerald eyes widened.

"It snapped for me the moment she stepped into the ballroom and our eyes met. I think she doesn't know though," Rhysand continued quietly, hoping he would understand and cancel the wedding. All he needed, was more time to find a way to get her out of Autumn. He didn't ask for anything more. She didn't need to find out right away that he was her mate. He would be completely fine with only a friendship as long as he knew where she was and that she was safe.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed and darkened, one corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "Don't worry," he said lowly. "I'll take good care of her. She will have anything she wants and I will protect her. I promise you."

"But will she be happy? Without her mate?"

"If she doesn't know about that, I see no reason why she shouldn't be. One can't mourn something they don't even know that exists."

"Tamlin, you don't understand-"

"But I do understand," he interrupted him. "See you at the wedding. Or rather not. Now we don't want to try our luck, do we."

"Tamlin!"

"Get lost!"

Rhysand fought against the magic of wards that after the dismissal was forcing him to leave. He wasn't done here yet. However, not even a High Lord could stay in other Court if the Lord there expelled them. Unwillingly he winnowed back to his house.

He stood in the middle of his office, heaving heavily. Tears gathered in his eyes. He ran hand through his dark hair and then dragged it down his face. He looked around, searching for something that could ground him, finding nothing. He fell to his knees and yelled so loud that walls shook.

In a blink of eye Cassian appeared at his side and clumsily held him, checking him for injuries. He seemed to be relieved to find none.

"He refused," Rhys sobbed. "I told him and he refused.."

"I'm so sorry, Rhys," Cass spoke kindly. "But.. We will solve this. Don't worry. We all will do our best to get her out of there."

Next week Rhysand's mood was switching between being furious, coldly calculating and falling into depression. At the end of the week, Azriel returned and whole Inner Circle gathered to share all facts they knew and come with some solution. As far as they knew, Selene lived in warded part of the castle where only family members and chosen maids could enter. Azriel spent the whole two weeks trying to break in but to no avail. Amren also had no luck with her research. Wards were a complicated ancient magic and to break through so strong ones, they would need a very powerful and dangerous magical object like Cauldron that was lost for centuries and they didn't have time to look for it anyway.

Rhys only sat there, gloomy, listening. He was again falling into depression.

"What if we got help from the inside?" Cassian suggested, looking around the table.

"From Vanserras?" Azriel looked up. His hazel eyes lit up with idea and he turned to Rhys. "I think that it's quite good idea."

"Thanks," Cassian grinned.

"And who would you ask for help?" Mor rolled eyes. "Beron? His wife? Or his rogue sons?"

Azriel didn't pay any attention to her insults and continued. "I think that the heir would be willing to help us if we convinced him."

Rhysand finally looked up, frowning. "He told me that he doesn't want to see me anywhere near her."

"Exactly! Don't you see it? Who let her out during the party when Beron was too busy to notice it? Eris. Who was out there protecting her? Eris. Who is often visiting the warded quarters despite having chambers in a completely different part of the castle? The answer is again Eris. I'll bet that he goes there only to visit her. Several times a day actually."

"Why should he want to help us to kidnap her?" Rhys shook his head.

"Because he cares for her," Azriel answered simply, tilting head to the side in disbelieve that Rhysand didn't get it yet. "I heard that he isn't thrilled for the coming wedding."

Rhysand clenched hands into fists, thinking. During the last two weeks they had tried everything and nothing worked, even Tamlin laughed him out. There was nothing else they could do except of waiting until the wedding day and then try one of the risky plans Cassian had prepared for that case.

At last, he nodded. "Fine then. Can you deliver message to him?"

Azriel smiled. "Gladly. If you write it right now, he can get it tonight."

Two days later, Rhysand winnowed to the river bend on the border of his Court and hid into the shadows under the trees, waiting. He didn't have high expectations, he was avoiding the hope so as not to be disappointed in the end. The time ticked by while he watched flowing river, but in his mind he saw only her, his Moon Princess bathing in the silver moonlight with shiny big eyes and soft smile on her lips. He could keep watching her lovely profile forever. If that was all he was allowed in this lifetime, he would die a happy male.

Thirty minutes later another male winnowed to the same bend of the river, his red hair looked like blazing flames in the setting sun. He eyed the empty river bank and nearby tree line with arrogant, bored expression. He crossed hands on his chest, glaring into the waters.

Rhysand stepped from his hideaway, casually walking with hands in the pockets to the place where the other male waited at. "I already started to think that you won't come," he tried his usual cocky tone, but even to him it sounded fake.

"You are the one who wanted to meet up at this.. where are we actually?" Eris raised a brow, disgusted.

Rhysand shrugged. "Just old campsite. Nobody is coming here anymore, not after what happened here. Old story. The most important is that we can talk here without being overheard."

Eris clasped hands behind his back. "So? What is so urgent? I'm busy with wedding preparations as you know."

"That's the reason why I need to speak with you." Rhys swallowed hard. He was preparing for this discussion ever since Azriel left with his letter in the pocket. Despite everything he decided to be honest for once instead of making up lies. "That wedding must not take place."

Eris raised brows at him. "Why?"

"Because..," he tried to say it aloud, but couldn't, "it can't happen."

"Good try, but I don't have time for this. So if you don't have any good reason for this, I'm leaving." He pivoted.

"She's my mate."

"What?!" Eris turned back to him so fast that he almost slipped on the stones.

"You heard me. Selene, your sister, is my mate."

Eris just gaped at him, eyes wide, but at least he wasn't about to leave anymore.

"The wedding is the biggest mistake. I don't think she knows about the bond, but she won't be happy. You have to help me stop it."

Eris's mask slipped down for a moment and Rhysand noticed pain hidden beneath. "I can't. It's too late."

"It isn't. They aren't wed yet, there's still time."

"And what do you expect me to do? Do you want me to go to my father and tell him: hey, forget about the alliance with Spring, her mate resides on the other side of Prythian? That would 100% work."

Rhys rolled eyes. "No, just help me get her out of there. If there is no bride, there won't be wedding nor alliance. This will solve all the problems at once and nobody gets hurt."

Eris snorted. "And what about her? What will happen to my sister?"

"She can live here, in my Court. I'll protect her, give her home and take good care of her. You will be welcome to come visit her anytime you want."

Eris shook head in disbelieve. "You will keep her at your side like some sustained lover? No, in such case she's better in Spring with Tamlin. I saw them talking together and he was really kind and respectful to her. That's what she deserves, Rhysand. The respect. There might be no love between them yet, but it can change in the future. He will provide her with the same things you are offering, but he will make her his wife."

Horrified, Rhysand took a step back. "Lover? What? Don't put words into my mouth. She doesn't know about the bond and I won't push her into relationship with me. If she wishes so, we will be friends. She decides what we will be, not me. But if the bond snaps for her and she accepts it, I'll more than gladly marry her right away. In my Court, she will have freedom she never had and in marriage we will be equal. In everything."

He gave him a doubtful look, laughing. "Equal? Mother's tits! I won't believe such empty promises."

"These are no empty promises, I'm serious. Can you see me laughing? I'll make even a bargain with you. If she agrees to marry me, she will be my equal. I'll make her a High Lady."

"There is no such thing as High Lady." Eris stuck out chin, narrowing eyes.

"Then she will be the first one. Do you want to bet?"

"No, but I want that bargain."

"Fine," Rhys smiled for the first time since he learnt that his Moon Princess is doomed to marry another male. "So, what do you want in exchange for your help?"

Eris tilted head to the side, pressing lips into thin line. "Help for help. When the time comes, you will help me get rid of my father."

"We have a deal." After wording their vows, smell of magic filled the air and a small tattoo appeared on their bodies.

"Great that you agreed so easily. I was ready to get down on my knees if necessary," Rhysand grinned.

"That sounds like a lot of fun. Especially, in this awful state you are in. I think I'm going to change my mind."

"Good you can't," Lord of Night patted his shoulder with new tattoo.

Eris barked with laughter.

"Now tell me, just out of curiosity, is Selene really your sister or just half sister? It doesn't really matter to me, I'm asking because-"

"She looks so different?" Eris finished the sentence with fox grin. "She is my sister. Frankly, she looks like clone of father's great grand mother. I would show you her picture, but.."

"No need. I believe you."

Eris raised his brows doubtfully.

"How exactly do you imagine her abduction to take place? If your spymaster can so easily get into my chamber, I'd say you don't need me."

"Believe me when I say that we already tried to get to her. Unfortunately, not even my brilliant spymaster can get through your father's wards. That's why we need your help."

"I see. I'm relieved to hear there are wards that can stop you and your people."

"If we weren't in such time crunch, we would find way in for sure. But we don't have so much time now," he winked. "All I need from you is to get her out of the wards inside the castle. It really doesn't matter whether you take her to your room or to that clearing, as long as she will be somewhere where we can get to her."

Next hour or so they spent discussing the details of the abduction, so the both sides knew the exact meeting place, time and what to do. When Eris left, Rhysand return back home, feeling much better. In good mood he shared the plan with Cassian and Azriel who would go into the action with him. Now he just needed to wait for message from Eris. If he hadn't seen with his own two eyes how much young heir cared for his sister, he would doubt his intentions. This all was possible only thanks to the exceptionally strong sibling love and overprotectiveness. In moments like this Rhys thought about his own baby sister. What would it be like if she was still here?

Days were passing one after another without any news from the Autumn heir until finally four days before the wedding a small piece of paper appeared on Rhysand's desk. He opened it and skimmed a neatly written short message.

Cassian! Azriel! he called in his mind.

Ever since he made the deal, they were staying in their rooms in the Town House instead of the House of Wind, just in case they would need to quickly move on. It took them only a minute to get to his office. As soon as they appeared on threshold, he happily waved the paper in the air.

"Get ready! We leave an hour after sunset."

Exactly one hour after sunset Rhysand winnowed the three of them to the Autumn Court's borders, the rest of the way they had to fly to avoid being detected by the magic of the wards that Eris inconspicuously lifted for several minutes.

Thankfully, wards around the Forest House weren't so hard to get through and Azriel could safely get them in without any help. Under the cover of night, Rhysand led them through the grounds to the clearing where they were supposed to meet with Eris and Selene. They slipped past the patrol on their way, unnoticed. Just to make sure they weren't walking into a trap, they silently landed in the forest and went on foot the rest of the way. Hidden in the dark shadows under the trees, they waited.

Ten minutes later, Eris appeared on the clearing dimly lit by the waxing moon. And he wasn't alone. Holding his hand, a small figure walked behind him.

"Be careful here," Eris kindly warned his sister and she smiled in answer.

When they stopped in the middle of the clearing, Selene looked up on the moon, bathing in the silver light. With her long hair down and in the snow white dress, she was stunning. Meanwhile, Eris intently gazed into the night, his body tense. Rhys nodded to his brothers and moved forward. They assumed she would be less frightened if he went first. He let the dry twig to crack under his boot on purpose, notifying them of his arrival.

Both siblings turned in the same time. Tension in Eris's shoulders melted away, replaced by sadness. Selene seemed to recognize him and shyly hid behind her brother.

The males nodded in greeting. "Everything okay?"

"Nobody saw us."

"And Beron?"

"Some kind of troubles with goods for wedding in the port."

Selene watched their quiet exchange calmly from behind the brother's back, curiously peeking at Lord of Night. She didn't seem to be surprised by the turn of events at all.

Rhys nodded at last and leaning to the side to get a better view, he smiled at her.

"Hey there," he said so softy he surprised even himself. "Do you remember me?"

"Yes, my lord," Selene answered shyly and hid even more into brother's shadow.

Rhysand huffed in amusement. "I thought we already had this conversation, darling. Only Rhys for you."

Eris winced at the way he addressed his sister, but didn't say a word. Instead he took his sister's hand and pulled her from behind him. "It's okay, dear. He's here to take you.. to safety."

She looked up at him with her big bright eyes, waiting. "I'm sorry, Sel," Eris continued, "I can't let you marry Tamlin. I genuinely think that he would be a good husband to you, but you wouldn't be happy with him. That's why you have to.." He couldn't finish the sentence, his voice failed him. Rhys noticed the tears in his eyes and decided to ignore them for now. He understood how hard this must be for him.

"So you allow me to leave with my mate?" Her silent question made them both gape at her in shock. Eris recovered as first and smiled sadly. He reached into the pocket between the words and pulled out a bigger bag.

"I- I packed you some clothes for the start.. and a couple of your favourite things.."

"You know about the bond?" Rhysand's heart stuttered. He didn't expect that.

She met his gaze for a second and quickly shied away, blushing fiercely. "Since the night we met here," she took her brother's sleeve between fingers and stepped closer to him, partly hiding behind him.

Rhysand was so happy that he couldn't find words. He had so many questions that he didn't know where to start. Cassian and Azriel quietly approached them and Selene's eyes widened with fear.

"That's okay, they won't hurt anyone. They are my friends who came to help me get you safely to my Court," Rhys held out hands, explaining. "This is Cassian, General of my armies, and this is Azriel, Spymaster. They are big, clumsy and quite grumpy, but both are very kind-hearted, I assure you. We grew up together like brothers."

When introduced, Cassian grinned widely and waved at her, while Azriel put hand on his chest and slightly bowed.

Eris scoffed, rolling eyes.

"It's time. We should go before someone notices she's gone," Azriel murmured lowly. He was right. It was too risky to stay here for too long.

Rhysand cleared his throat nervously and offered her hand. "Can we?"

She looked up at her brother questioningly. Eris's jaw tightened as he turned to face her. At first he only held her hands, suppressing his feelings, but then he broke and pulled her into a hug. He whispered her something in the ear and tried to wipe his tears away stealthily while pretending to clean some dirt from her shoulder.

They parted and Selene walked over to Rhys' group, her cheeks wet.

Eris sadly watched as Rhysand gently picked her up and handed her bag to Azriel. "Everything is going to be fine. He will take good care of you.. I'll visit you soon," he looked at Rhys who nodded in agreement.

"Anytime you want."

"Oh, and take this," Eris reached into his pocket and handed her a blank sheet of paper. She turned it in fingers, confused. "It's enchanted. If you want to talk with me, just write on the paper and it will teleport to me. When I answer, it will return. If there would be any trouble with it.." His eyes moved to Lord of Night.

"I'll gladly help you with it or you can write a letter and Azriel will deliver it for you."

The mentioned one nodded in agreement and opened the bag so she could put it in.

"I'll miss you, brother," she sobbed.

"I already miss you. Stay safe." Eris stepped away, hardly keeping his tears back. He put on his cool mask of heir, but his amber eyes were giving him away.

"Thank you," Rhysand swallowed hard, hardly suppressing his own emotions. "When you are ready, let me know. I owe you for this. And don't worry. She will be safe and well cared of. I'll write you when we arrive."

Eris only nodded, fists clenched at his sides and retreated a few steps to give them enough space. Rhysand summoned his wings and carefully took off followed by his brothers. Selene watched Eris until trees obscured her view. Then she wiped her tears and rested head on his shoulder. It took him by surprise and for a moment he forgot how to use the wings.

"Sorry," he apologised for the shock and she hummed in answer. He exhaled shakily, again feeling like a youngling on the first date. "A-are you scared? Of flying?"

"No," she whispered between sobs.

Rhys tugged her closer to his body, gently rubbing her shoulder with thumb. "I know it's kind of scary for you. You don't know me nor my family, but I promise I'll do anything to make you happy. And the bond.. I won't pressure you. It's up to you-"

"I want the bond," she said firmly, interrupting him. "I saw that we will be happy."

"You did?" Rhysand raised a brow. Eris probably failed to mention that his baby sister was a seer.

"Sometimes I see little flashes of my future. I knew that you will come for me."

He huffed. "Of course you did. You are the Moon Princess after all."

"Who's Moon Princess?" She seemed to calm down at last and stopped crying, but she stayed hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Well, she's someone my mother used to tell me a story about. Do you want to hear it?"

She nodded and so Rhys started quietly whispering the story into her ear while they were sliding through the peaceful night sky, heading to their own 'happily ever after'.

[etherealily]

guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

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"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

[wings-of-ink]

zahn spinnet about cook mc making a whole shepherds pie just for them

they really need to put some meat on those bones

Oh that would be so sweet. Also, super weird you mentioned shepherds pie specifically...that is exactly what I've made for dinner tonight! You watchin' me, Anon?

So, Zahn has an optional romantic scene in the chapter that I'm writing now. I'm not too far away from doing that scene currently, so I think I'll post a teaser from that. We'll work on getting Zahn fed well in the next couple chapters. ^_^

So, until then...

The smell around you is divine. You've patiently waited for your newest creation to finish baking over the fire. Zahn is to meet you at home soon, and little do they know about the feast you have prepared.

Carefully, you use your hand, wrapped in a towel, to turn the trammel hook so you can retrieve the kettle. Prying the hot lid off you are suddenly enveloped more in the wonderful smells. It looks perfect. The mash you've placed atop the meat, gravy and vegetables has a lovely and lightly-toasted crust. The thick filling underneath bubbling through, creating extra tasty pockets of goodness.

As you let the pot cool, the brisk chill of early winter speeding things along, you prepare a basket of bread and a bottle of cider. A meal fit for royalty. You set the table, including the kettle and a single large plate just for Zahn. This special meal is only for them. You've already decided to have a simple meal of your own and some bread and cider of course. You cannot wait to see Zahn's big blue eye light up at the feast.

What should you call it, though? You used some mutton supplemented with a bit of goat as your meat...and it is a bit like a pie, just without pastry. Perhaps 'shepherd's pie' - considering a shepherd would have such animals at their disposal...they could eat the part of the flock they do not like. You smirk to yourself.

A knock sounds at the door - one that sounds like some sort of bizarre code before it resolves into frantic little taps.

"Come in!" you call.

Zahn rushes in and quickly closes the door behind them. They're piled with cloaks already, and the cold has barely set in. "Oh, it's so warm in here!"

After shedding all cloaks but their special one, Zahn rushes to hug you. You snuggle them close, tucking their cold nose into the crook of your neck. Once you begin feeling the pecks of little kisses, you know that Zahn is just warm enough. If you don't, you'll both end up missing dinner - again.

"Come sit, dinner is ready." You grab Zahn's hand and tug them to the table.

Zahn gasps. "Oh wow! That looks delicious. I love potatoes!"

"You love all food, and it's not just potatoes. Sit, I'll serve you."

Zahn claps. "Oh I love it when you tell me that," they say, plopping down in their seat.

You scoop out a huge helping of your special pie and carefully set it on the plate, splaying sliced bread along the side before you pour a cup of cider for them.

Zahn's eyes are huge and their hand is covering their mouth. "Oh, I'm drooling...but what about you?"

"I made this all for you. I told you that I'm going to make sure you get all the food you could ever want from now on. You're never going hungry ever again." You smile.

"All for me?"

You nod. "I'll start with bread and cider, but I'll just have some-"

"Please eat it with me..." Zahn's pink lips are pulled in a frown and you realize those blue eyes you adore so much are watery. "I can't believe you'd do something like this for the likes of me..." The tears finally fall. "I want you more than any feast."

You reach across the table and hold Zahn's hand. "Okay...if that's what you want."

Zahn smiles and wipes their eyes. "Let's eat until we have to roll on the floor to get around!"

As you dig in, Zahn's pleased moans over their food make you smile. They finish one plate quickly and then get another helping. "This is the best thing I've ever eaten. What is it?"

"You said that the last time we made a big dinner, and I call it shepherd's pie."

Zahn looks down at their plate. "...You made this out of a shepherd?"

You stare back unsure if Zahn is joking or not.

"Were they old or something?" Zahn asks, taking a big bite of the meat.

You really hope Zahn was joking...

[wildechildwrites]

Run, Rabbit

König/Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, Violence, Injury, Smut, lightly noncon but in the way that you're fighting it but are down, König being insane

No use of Y/N

Summary: You're on a solo mission in Romania, and König goes hunting

A/N: "Oh look another predator/prey coded Konig fic how original" SHUT UP I KNOW

AO3: Run, Rabbit

18+

You’re in the forests of Romania on a solo mission, snooping around an abandoned military base that’s been the location of some suspicious activity, according to your sources. You find the ghost of the for-hire group Kortac in rat-chewed maps and files, faint footprints in layers of dust, but the trail has long gone cold, the building slowly being reclaimed by nature. The trees show no sign of the changes of autumn, but it's in the air, the late summer whisper of a chill in the breeze. You take your time picking your way along the overgrown roads, enjoying the tranquility of the forest. The extraction point is ten clicks west of your position, but you’re content with your steady pace, the sun still high in the sky, shining brightly through the thick foliage, and the hike is an easy one. Your meager findings are carefully folded in your bag of gear, your gun snug on your hip. Ten meters to your right, a red deer raises its head up, watching you warily, before bolting away into the trees. You smile to yourself and raise your face to better feel the sun. 

Nestled low on a hill, large body half buried in the underbrush, König watches you through the scope of his rifle, toying with the idea of killing you. He recognizes you from the files he’s seen on the 141, but there was nothing left at the base for you to find, no reason to draw suspicion and attention back here. You were harmless like this, and magnetic, head tilted towards the sun, your face lit up in a wash of gold light that plays up the color of your hair. His finger brushes lightly across the trigger as he contemplates his options. He rolls his neck loose before glancing through his scope again.

You hear the crack of the shot and drop, but not quickly enough. Your ears ring, your shoulder burning agonizingly, like someone’s pushing a hot poker against it. You fight against the nausea and pain, willing yourself to move, scrambling into the brush for cover. The shot came from your six, and you grapple for your binoculars, trying to locate the shooter on the hill above you. You recognize the mask first, the bleached tear tracks down an executioner's hood, the hulking form of the figure wearing it unfortunately familiar. König is standing casually, seemingly unafraid of any return of fire, staring down like he can see you through the trees. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle instinctually as he begins to move, a sauntering pace down the hill like the slow lope of a wolf. You drop down again, ignoring the pain in your shoulder as you crawl through the underbrush. 

You stop behind a small boulder, pressing your back to it, breathing heavily, and pull your radio off of your hip. “Bravo Six, this is Bravo Seven Four, over.” 

The crackle of the radio is a relief, Price’s voice faint but firm. “Go ahead Bravo Seven Four, over.” 

“Enemies one; direction east of my grid two hundred meters, injury sustained, six clicks out of extraction point, over.” You peek out from behind the rock, but can't see anything, so you continue your crawl, waiting for a response. The birds have stopped singing, a deadly quiet that warns of danger.

“Stay calm Bravo Seven Four–” Price’s voice is cut off by the sound of another bullet whizzing near you. You can’t have your radio giving away your position, and the squad is too far away to reach you before König could. You grab your radio and quickly press the button. 

“Bravo Six, silence, meet at extraction, over.” You turn it off, not waiting for a response, and tuck it back into your belt. Ignoring the growing burning in your shoulder, you move as quickly through the underbrush as you can. You need to cover more ground if you’re going to make it out of here, so you weigh your options, propping yourself into a low crouch, scanning the woods behind you. You can’t see or hear anything. You inhale deeply, then break into a sprint.

The cracking of branches is faint, but König is listening for it, his rifle slung over his shoulder as he searches for you. He immediately changes directions, moving towards the noise and quickening his pace. If you want to run, he’s more than happy to indulge you, relishing the adrenaline of the chase. Your trail is clear, broken branches like a beacon beckoning him closer. He spots blood on one of the low boulders, and swipes it up on his gloved hand, smiling under the mask. 

You're hyper aware of your disadvantage, the sounds of snapping branches as your pursuer draws closer, the sluggish flow of blood down your shoulder from where the bullet grazed you. Your lungs burn, head woozy as you run hard, branches scraping at your form. You risk a look over your shoulder, searching for König behind you, and your heart drops when you miss a step. 

All of a sudden, you're falling, hands stretched out in front of you as you tumble down a steep hill. You hear and feel the snap of your ankle in your boot, a whimpering sob yanked from your chest as you finally land heavily in some thorn covered bushes, branches scratching your body even through the thick fabric of your uniform. You pull yourself out, ignoring the pain as thorns drag against your face, drawing blood, then scan yourself quickly, the prognosis bleak. You can't run, not with what is definitely a broken ankle, and your shoulder is still oozing freely, but you won’t go down without a fight. You drag yourself through the dirt using your good arm, stopping periodically to listen to the sounds of König moving through the trees. Your entire body burns, and you fight against the growing fatigue that’s threatening to overwhelm you, trying to hold onto your quickly waning adrenaline. 

The sound of breaking branches draws nearer. He’s moving faster, heavy footfalls that make your leg muscles twitch with the urge to run. König whistles, high and loud, and you reach for your gun, cocking it as quietly as you can, turning around to face the direction of the noise, crouching low. Your heart pounds in your chest, fear creeping in, the weight of your situation crashing down on you.

“I heard you cry out,” a voice rings through the trees. There's something light in König’s tone, like this has all been a game of tag. “You can't be too far.”

Then the only sound is the breeze, rustling in the leaves. Blood from a cut on your forehead drips into your eye, and you resist the urge to wipe it away, scanning your surroundings as best you can without moving.

The unwelcome feeling of the muzzle of a gun presses against the side of your head, and your body shudders involuntarily. 

“Drop your weapon, Häschen,” König murmurs. You comply immediately, tossing it at his feet, unwilling to argue with a Beretta at your temple. The large man quickly kicks your gun into the bushes. “Sit up,” he commands, and you move slowly, trying not to aggravate your broken bone. 

You knew he was large, but kneeling at his feet he feels like a goliath, towering over you, the gun held in his grip looking comically small in his giant hands. He holsters it, and you get a stupid, moronic, brilliant idea. In a quick motion, you’ve ripped your radio off of your belt, pressing down on the button and bringing it to your lips. “MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY–” König slams the heel of his palm into the back of your head, and the world goes dark.

The small shack hasn’t been used in a while, the table in the center of the room is covered in dust, and spiders have made their home in the corners, spinning silvery streamers that hang down, brushing against his helmet. König places you lightly on the small bed in the corner, stooping over uncomfortably in the low room. Your hair is full of sticks and leaves, your face scraped and bleeding. He needs to look at your shoulder, and the ankle you’d been hovering over protectively, but work comes first. You’ve thrown him off, his fingers tingling where he held you to him, the phantom pressure of your head on his chest as he carried your unconscious body through the woods haunting him even now. He grabs your gear bag, dumping it unceremoniously onto the table, pulling your medkit to the side before rifling through the papers you’d found. The information was outdated, but he shoves the papers into one of the pockets of his pants for disposal later regardless.

He doesn’t bother stripping you properly, just takes his knife and slices it up through the collar of your shirt, baring your shoulder to him. His eyes, unbidden, trace the line of the now exposed column of your throat, and he swallows loudly in the quiet of the room. König draws his attention back to your injury with some difficulty. He barely even grazed you, the puckered wound bleeding sluggishly, and he quietly gloats at his own aim. When he pours alcohol on it, you awaken with a hiss, throwing your arm out hard in his direction reflexively before your brain catches up with you. He deflects you easily, wrapping large fingers around your wrist, enjoying the feeling of the delicate bones, watching with silent smugness as your confusion reads clear on your face. 

“Guten tag,” he says, pleasantly casual, as though you’ve run into him at the grocery store. Your head is pounding, and you’re thrown, trying to grasp your surroundings. Your shoulder is burning, and you’re suddenly aware of the air on your bare skin. You rip your hand out of his grasp, pulling yourself as far away from him on the small bed as you can manage. He tilts his head, studying you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice hard. 

König gestures with the alcohol he’s holding. “I’m patching up your injuries.” His voice is low, his accent curling around the syllables of his sentences like smoke. 

You blink at him, utterly disarmed. “Why,” you pause, biting your cheek as a wave of pain radiates through your ankle, “Are you patching up my injuries?” 

“Would you prefer it if I left them?” He volleys back lightly, tilting his head. 

You don’t say anything, staring at him with suspicion. He’s got you cornered, quite literally, and there’s no way you can get away from him with your ankle like this unless you can get your hands on a weapon. There’s a knife tucked in your boot, but you can’t exactly pull it out subtly. His beretta is on his hip, his rifle is leaning against the table, but you’d be lying to yourself if you thought you had a chance in hell of reaching either before he could. 

 König takes your silence for compliance and goes back to dabbing your wound with alcohol. You flinch when he places his hand on you, and he makes a dissatisfied noise in the back of his throat. “Such a nervous little rabbit.” The mask conceals his expression from you, but you can hear the frown in his voice. 

“You shot me,” you respond dryly. “Doesn’t exactly foster trust.” 

 “Just a scratch. I could’ve killed you, if I wanted to.” He shrugs, a casual movement that’s unintentionally intimidating, your eyes on the way his shoulder muscles move beneath the layers of clothing he wears. 

You spend your time with large men, the boys of your team all averaging above six feet, but König is just startlingly gigantic. You scan his torso, eyes tracing across the wide planes of his chest, lingering too long to be decent. You catch yourself and drop your gaze down to your hands. “If you don’t want to kill me, what do you want?”

“I want to know what you are doing here.” His tone is still pleasant, but interrogative. His fingers are deliberate, surprisingly gentle as he bandages your shoulder, but there’s an unspoken thread of tension in the air. 

“Chasing shadows.” You respond, your voice equally mild. You know he looked through your pack and probably found the papers. You wonder if he thought it was ironic that you came sniffing after KorTac, just to run right into him. You certainly did.

You’re much more docile when he patches up your ankle, an uneasy truce between the two of you. You sit still as he splints it, legs draped almost intimately over his lap, his large fingers curled around your injured leg, gentle pressure holding you steady as he works. He adjusts his hold, squeezing lightly on the meat of your calf, and your breathing stutters. His eyes flick to yours, something dangerous in their expression, and you hold his gaze as you deliberately drag your uninjured leg closer to you, your boot trailing across König's upper thighs intentionally. His eyes slip close at the sensation, just for a moment, and that's when you act, yanking your knife out of your boot and sinking it into his thigh and launching yourself to the floor. He lets out a snarling cry, and you scramble up, your vision going white from the pain of your ankle, but you push through it, sprinting out of the shack. 

You can't run properly, reduced to a hobble that's made all the more difficult by the fact that you're on uneven terrain in the quickly growing dark. You need to figure out your location and find a way to contact your team, but you’re disoriented and disarmed. You haven’t made it more than a few meters when you hear the sound of the front door slam open. You pick up the pace, trying to put as much distance between you and the very angry Austrian hot on your trail. 

“Häschen,” König’s voice rings through the trees, and a trickle of fear runs through you. You duck behind a tree, pressing yourself against it firmly, trying to blend in with the darkness. 

He can hear you breathing, light and quick, and he doesn’t even try to disguise the heavy sound of his footsteps as he closes in on you. He whips around the tree you’re cowering against, and you try to bolt, but he wraps his fingers around your bicep, yanking you back, slamming his hands above your head, trapping you against the tree. 

“Always trying to run away,” he snarls, shoving his body against yours. He thrusts his uninjured thigh between your legs, pinning you further, and you let out an unintentional gasp at the sudden pressure of hard muscle against your core. König instantly pulls away, his eyes shooting down to your ankle with concern, before dragging slowly up your body, his gaze accusatory.  

“You like this,” he says, and you shake your head desperately. 

“I don’t–” he interrupts any denials you might have, deliberately grinding his thigh in between your legs. You clench your teeth against the noise it draws from your throat. 

He leans impossibly closer, your noses almost brushing through the hood he wears. “Did you like the chase as well?” His voice is a husky rumble, full of heat, and you have to bite back a whine. “I liked the chase.” You realize the hard length against your stomach isn't his Beretta, and an unwanted spike of arousal shoots through you in response.

“You’re insane,” you snap, grappling for some semblance of control over the building pleasure in your core. König pulls away from you abruptly, and you flush at how wet you are, soaking through your underwear. 

“How about a game, Häschen?” his voice has lost its edge, back to the pleasant tone he used in the shack, and your head spins at the sudden change.  “I'll give you five minutes to run or hide, and if you can make it ten minutes without me finding you, I’ll take you to your extraction point myself, safe and sound.”

Your heart races. You don’t trust him, but there's no way you'll get another chance to get away from him. “And if I can’t?” You ask. 

He says nothing, just purposefully presses his hard cock against your center. Traitorous want flows through you.

You know you’re fucked, but you scramble through the darkness as quickly as you can, trying to find a good place to hide. If your ankle wasn’t broken, you’d climb a tree, but you’re stuck searching for ground cover, listening with mounting paranoia to the quiet noises of the forest. You’re a celestial body pulled unwillingly into König’s orbit; collision unavoidable.

You hear him coming, branches breaking as he stalks towards you. You stand as straight as you can, letting him approach you, his eyes bright in the dim of twilight. When he comes within range, you lunge for his gun, almost succeeding in yanking it out of the holster before he grabs you around the waist and pulls you to the ground, pinning you roughly beneath him. 

Even as he manhandles you, you're hyper aware of the delicate way he avoids putting any weight near your injured shoulder. He's got your legs splayed around him, but he's careful, adjusting you just so, keeping your ankle tucked safely away, angled so he won't jostle it. His hips press obscenely against your ass, and you can't help arching your back into him, begging for his cock even as you swear at him.

“Get the fuck off of me,” you spit, and he just laughs, an off-putting, mean sound, before reaching around and ripping open your pants. The button pops off, and the zipper teeth split forcefully apart as he shoves a hand into your underwear. 

“Complain all you want, Häschen, but you're soaked for me,” he coos into your ear, roughly rubbing your clit. You moan at the contact, and he moves his hand lower, pressing his palm against your clit before shoving a finger into your wet center, roughly splitting you open. You gasp at the sudden stretch, König giving you no time to adjust as he pulls his finger out for a moment and plunges it back in, moving in and out at a punishing pace.

“Tell the truth.” He orders, adding a second finger. He curls them, stroking your inner walls, bullying you open until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.  “Say you want me to fuck you.” 

You're beyond words, making a derisive noise that transforms into a whine as you move your hips back, driving König's fingers deeper, your ass rubbing against his clothed erection. All you can focus on is the press of his body against yours, his fingers unspooling you, pulling you apart as he pants along with you. The tension is building, the knot in your stomach tightening as König forces you closer to the edge. 

He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving you devastatingly empty and unsatisfied, and you let out an anguished whimper despite yourself. He pushes your pants roughly down around your thighs, and the purr of his zipper opening makes you clench reflexively around nothing. 

He presses right against your entrance, a breath away from splitting you open on his cock. You shove your hips back, trying to fuck yourself onto him, and he pulls back. “Say you want this,” he demands. 

“Fuck. You.” You snarl, even as your thighs tremble. He drags the head of his cock up through your folds, coating himself in your wetness, and you gasp. 

“Such spirit,” he murmurs. In a single motion, he sinks into you, splitting you in open, pulling the air from your lungs. 

He thrusts into you fast and hard, like he wants to tear you open, and it hurts, even with how soaked you are. You cry out, trying to squirm away from the pain. His fingers find your clit again, his breath hot in your ear. He dwarfs you, your legs shaking from pleasure and the weight of him on top of you, pressing you into the dirt. 

“You wanted this.” His voice is a panting snarl, his talented fingers stealing your senses as he forces you closer to your orgasm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the forest air as he pounds into you without mercy. “Say it.” 

“I want this,” you whimper. You feel the shocking whisper of his lips against the junction of your neck and shoulder and realize with a start that means he’s not wearing his hood. All thoughts are shoved out of your head as he sinks his teeth into your skin, and you wail as you snap, the sensation dragging you over the edge, your body trembling as you cum. His thrusts become sloppy, his cock twitching inside you as he shoves his hips against yours, filling you up. He stays like that, flush against you, as his dick softens, keeping you full and trapped under him. 

You lay in the dirt panting, hollowed out and raw. There are pine needles prickling against your skin, soreness awakening in your limbs as you come back to yourself. König climbs off of you, still cognizant of your injuries, and pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you like a lover, the brutality melting into tenderness like watercolor. His hood is back in place, and the world comes crashing down around you as your senses return, the weight of your actions pulling you down as regret and shame bubble under your skin. 

König notices your eyes glazing over, the warble of your chin, and reaches up a large hand to cradle your face, wiping away tears you didn't realize were threatening to fall. “Hush bunny, you did so well,” he croons down at you, his saccharine actions thrown in high relief against how violently he handled you before. “Such a good girl for me.”

The walk to the extraction point is silent. König holds you cradled against his chest; your hand fisted in the front of the vest he wears. His thigh burns, his entire body consumed with exhaustion, but he clenches his jaw against the pain, focusing instead on your face, turnt up towards him, open and vulnerable, eyes rimmed with red. If he was a better man, he'd be sorry. 

He sets you down gently on a large rock, and pulls your knife out of a hidden pocket, his hand raised in a placating gesture as he slowly places it beside you. It’s still got his blood on it, dried to rust on the tip. You don’t reach for it, pulling your uninjured leg up and wrapping your arms around yourself. You look even smaller than you did before. 

He straightens his spine against the odd sensation in his chest. “Tell your captain to keep a closer eye on his men,” He orders, then reaches out a hand, hovering just above your cheek bone. Neither of you bridge the gap.  

You watch him disappear into the trees, the shadows swallowing him whole, the sound of a helicopter in the distance.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Hello! I really liked the short story you wrote of Seth and Al’s reaction with sb’s ex, so I wanted to ask if you could do one with Finn and sunflowers’s toxic ex?

Oh, ew it's you again.

TW: toxic ex, mentioned past stalking, mentioned death threats, past break up, idk how to feel about this bc of writer's block hopefully y'all enjoy this!!

"Hey Finn, I got your shirt-" Greeting their boyfriend, Sunflower looks up and sees their ex. With Finn looking very uncomfortable, using the shopping cart to have space between them.

"(Y/N), great your here-" Smiling at them, Sunflower sighed loudly and reached for their phone. "Wait- no please don't call the police-"

Trying to speak again, panicking the ex tries to reach for them. But Finn pushed the shopping cart into her, causing the woman to glare at him. Continuing to call the police Sunflower smiled a bit as Finn blocked them from her line of sight.

"I have a restraining order against you. So, yes, Aliyah I'm calling the police. This is what the third time you've tried to do this shit." Rolling their eyes, Sunflower smiled at Finn who got in front of them. He tried his best to look intimidating, the blonde even started moving them to where more people where.

"Come on, Sunflower. Let's go over here. In case she tries to do something to us." Whispering, Finn gently guided his partner to the check out area. A few shoppers around them heard the commotion and started watching a bit.

"I still can't believe you got that stupid restraining order! It's just a paper! Plus I didn't mean any of the threats I told you! Come on you know I love you-" Rambling Aliyah tried grabbing for you again and Finn slapped her hand. Causing the ex to freeze and look at him like he was the crazy one.

"Yes. I did just hit you. Back up, you don't have any right to be by my partner or me. You sent them death threats because they broke up with you. So, if you do try to touch MY partner again, I will hit you." Calmly explaining, Finn saw the stores security coming to them. Some bystanders started telling Aliyah off and Sunflower just smiled as it all went down.

Store security dragged Aliyah away and some of the people asked if the couple were okay. Being tired Sunflower let Finn explain the situation, how Aliyah has been trying to contact them over the years after the break up. How there was stalking, death threats and gifts sent to them to the point they had to move like three times.

The police showed up, everyone who saw Aliyah go to Sunflower gave a statement and the ex was ushered away. Finn held the bags of stuff they were there to originally buy before being interrupted rudely. Walking to the car, the couple check it to see if anything was tampered with.

"Hopefully, this time she'll get it through her fucking head I don't want her." Grumbling, Sunflower got inside and sat in the passenger seat. Tears weld up in their eyes, they were so tired of this shit. Finn frowned and pulled out the snack he bought to cheer them up.

"I know, but she did get arrested. Let's just go home and relax then figure this out tomorrow okay?" Sunflower nodded at his words. That seemed like a good idea, seeing Aliyah again on a nice day just threw them off. Looking at Finn they started crying, causing Finn to panic. However, these were happy tears.

"I'm so glad I found you." Sniffling out, Sunflower leaned to Finn and hugged him tightly. Gently comforting them, the blonde patted their back. "God I hate ex's."

This caused Finn to snort and nod, thinking about his own sighing as he out the part in reverse. Pulling out of the parking lot and heading to his house, Finn continued to try and lighten up Sunflower's mood. Sitting in the car looking at the glasses wearing man, Sunflower smiled, happy they got at least a sane partner compared to their shitty ex.

[drag0n0fbutt3r]

Art Fight 2024 - Team Stardust Attack for @tjs-stuffs - OC: Little Guy Attacks for @tangential-hooligan - Sona + OCs: Hernando and The Tamer + AU: Nyabori & Katdari + @squidthesquidd 's OC: Autopsy Attack for @squidthesquidd - OC: Sir Attacks for @fourphoenixfeathers - OC: Mess + AU: Hisuian Chandelure Ingo Attack for @sapphirecereal - OCs: Cooper and Reece Attack for @divatheeva - OC: Anton + My OC: Nocturne Attacks for @waywardstation - AU: Eevee Akari and Hisuian Typhlosion Ingo + @solilojay 's OC: Wren Attack for @agent-gladhand - OC: Anton Attacks for @acatpiestuff - Sona + OC: Cheddar

[meownotgood]

cannot believe it's been a whole year since this trailer changed the trajectory of my life forever

[fragrantpines]

Meng Po Soup's favourite flowers are red spider lilies.

They are the only flowers that bloomed in the underworld, helping lost souls find their way back onto the path of reincarnation with their fragrant scent.

Despite living in the underworld all his life, he had never really paid attention to them. After all, they were just some flowers, why should he care about them?

Yes, he never cared about the flowers. What he cared about was the smile you would give him whenever he gave those flowers to you, watching your face bloom with happiness as you accepted the flowers gracefully, a shy blush spread across your cheeks.

Once upon a time, he had been nicknamed by the masses as "Heartless" for a number of reasons. His face that was as still as a rock, his voice that never faltered while speaking the cruelest of thoughts, his body that never flinched when he was handing out punishments mercilessly-- there were too many to list out and he didn't feel comfortable listing anymore anymore when tears started to appear at the corner of your eyes.

"What they say is not true! The fact that you love me is proof that you have a heart!"

Is that so?

Perhaps you were right.

After he had met you, he began to learn about the various emotions in his heart in order to love you the way you deserved to feel loved. Every day, his heart was packed with emotions that he never knew the names of till you taught him what they were, why they were there and how each ones were significant. Those days were the best days in his immortal life, ones that he wished to perserve in the library of memories so that he could revisit them whenever he wanted to.

So why did he have to meet you in that field of red spider lilies?

"I'm sorry, Meng. I have to leave now."

"You don't have to. You can drink the soup and stay here as my servant again."

You don't have to go, so stay. Stay here with me please.

He wished that he didn't see you shake your head, shattering his ideas of keeping you all to himself.

He wished that you didn't approach him with a sad smile before embracing him tightly, just like how you would greet him whenever he paid a visit to Kongsang.

He wished, oh how he wished, that he didn't feel how cold your body was against his, devoid of the warmth that the living had within their bodies.

"Take care, my love. Remember that your heart is always here with you no matter what."

No, no it wasn't. His heart was never with him. It was in the hands of the person that smiled for him, cried for him, died for him.

That day, tears fell from his eyes as he pressed you close to his chest, praying that this nightmare would disappear the moment he woke up. Alas, when he saw your memories slowly disappear the moment you drank the soup--his soup--, a part of him died along the memories they shared. Memories that only he would carry from today onwards.

Meng Po Soup's favourite flowers were red spider lilies.

Now, as he looks over the sea of red spider lilies, a sneer appears on his lips.

Maybe they would look more beautiful if they were burned down with the world that dared to hurt you.

[radioisntdead]

Accidentally stumbled onto the dark side of Tumblr again, DEAR GRACE SOME FOLKS NEED INTENSE THERAPY, or need to stop doing drugs, maybe both, my eyes, my poor, poor eyes, I need a holy water and bleach combo

Also I should watch gravity falls again

[hrtley]

okay goodnight!!! think i'll draw more masky and hoody tomorrow

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but It is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.