#I claim this as my top 1 brush

[cornfanchips]

I just downloaded the most scrumptious square brush Hmm Hm delicious.

Spoiler:

Science is always worth it.

Hehe I can draw them from memory 🥴

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires 

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

PHASE 3:

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires:

i have all of my desires.

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily:

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me.

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D.

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality.

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable:

everything is going to be okay because creation is done.

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior​ will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

[cheetabites]

☆彡 cinnamon ˳༄꠶

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for dae-ho

sfw headcannons

★ this sweet boy truly struggles internally with how to act within society. the toxic masculinity his father had pushed on him had left him ashamed to truly express himself with others; he isn’t happy with how society wants men to act in such a superior and oppressive way, but is still sensitive to people catching eye of him acting in the opposite way (sensitive and compassionate)

★ he also didn’t receive any counseling or therapy after returning from the marines because he still held the internal belief that being vulnerable and expressing his difficulties wasn’t ‘manly’ enough

★ he’s the type of man that’ll help an old person cross the street, give his last dollar to a person at the register that was one dollar short, and would bring a jar of nuts to the park just incase he sees squirrels

★ he might’ve not received any professional help, but his mom and his older sisters were always there for him; when his father wasn’t around i’d like to picture them taking him out so they could play the games they played when they were younger - gonggi in particular because he liked to prove that ‘he still got it’

★ he’s the best pet owner ever. in some ways i can picture him having one pet that the whole family loves and spoils - yes, they wear the little sweaters when it’s cold and the boots when the pavement is hot - or a random ass pet he adores and the family is grossed out by. i can picture one of his friends gifting him a pet rat or turtle as a joke, but he takes it seriously (#1 dad) ; he vents to them sometimes

nsfw headcannons

★ sexual encounters is not a place where he’ll allow his fathers toxic masculinity to dictate his actions; he’s definitely a sub. when he’d found it out though, he was ashamed. particularly because it was when he was having sex with another partner - he was on top yes, but the ecstasy he was feeling at the time caused him to look down at them and beg for them to praise him (they did, and he cried in their neck afterwards)

★ he’s really sensitive, and i mean so sensitive that you could probably overstimulate him if you’d made him cum more than twice

★ he likes having his hair tugged; especially in situations where you brush your fingers through his hair first before gripping onto it so you can direct his gaze towards your own or when he’s giving you head

★ he enjoys the sex, yes. but he enjoys the aftercare more; having you wipe him down while you praise him for how good he was makes him feel so safe. he also seems like one who gets really sleepy after sex so i don’t think you’ll be able to make it to the bath. but when you do, he gets really shy and flustered

★ he loves seeing you wear the lingerie sets you’d bought while you were out. it gets him hard yes, but he mostly just admires how it enhances your beauty, so you’d never really had sex with them on. he does have a polaroid picture of you wearing a piece in his wallet and he protects that picture with his life - and i mean he’d lay flat on the train tracks if he’d ever lost it cause he cares about you too much :(

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

can you do a car sex with jihyo?

Backseat (Park Jihyo x Reader)

Smut

2 am hook up with your fwb jihyo. That’s it.

It was late, the red 1:47 AM glaring at you from your bedside table as you look over. You had tried to sleep, for hours but you simply could not stop thinking.

The main thing occupying your thoughts is your friend, more so fuck buddy, Jihyo. You couldn’t stop thinking about her, and her tan skin, or her lips, and god her fingers.

Now you’re in bed sexually frustrated and you couldn’t sleep because you’re so horny. You had just seen her the other day, a similar situation to now though it was earlier in the day.

Finally you have enough and reach for your phone and immediately finding her contact to send a text.

You

Are you awake?

A few minutes pass with no answer.

You

I know it’s late

Actually never mind

Sorry

A few minutes in between each message, embarrassment seeps in especially thinking about potentially waking the woman just to tell her she needed her to come fuck you.

Jihyo ❤️‍🔥

It’s okay I was already awake

What’s wrong?

Jihyo knew why you texted, I mean it’s almost 2 am why else would the person she regularly hooks up with text her at this time but she wanted you to say it.

You

I need you

Jihyo ❤️‍🔥

Be there in 10.

You don’t even bother getting dressed out of your sweatpants and sleep shirt, grabbing your key and slipping on some shoes by your door as you make your way to the front of your house.

Jihyo refused to hook up with you in either of your own homes, either a club bathroom or a hotel usually, according to her it was crossing a line between friends and girlfriends to have sex in your personal bed, whatever that means. So you wait outside your door, a bit pathetically, for her to arrive and she does almost exactly ten minutes after her text.

You hurriedly walk to her car and get into the passenger seat, not looking at her face yet to avoid her immediately intense stare that makes your cheeks flush. But once you do look you’re captivated, her hair is down and wavy, messily resting on her shoulders. Wearing a cropped white tank top and sweatpants, showing off her abs (which you can’t stop staring at)

Her left hand is still on the steering wheel while her other arm’s elbow rests on the center console, chin in her hand as she looks at you.

“Soo…” She pauses a smirk threatening to form, “What’d you need me for?”

You roll your eyes at her before you respond.

“You know what.”

Now boldly wearing the smirk she thinks for a second, looking around and then to her backseat.

“Well.” She nods her head to the back.

“Wh- in here? We’re in the middle of my street.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“What if my neighbors see?”

“My windows are tinted.” She answers quickly, obviously eager to fuck you in her backseat.

She looking at you like you’re her next meal and, well you might be. Taking her hand from under her chin to brush the hair out of your face.

“Come on baby, you want me to fuck you right?”

You stare at her for a second, cheeks heating up at her words. You open the car door and get out, for a second Jihyo is worried she scared you off and you’re about to walk back inside until you open the back door and enter giving her a look making the older girl unbuckle and get out the front seat. First stopping to make her front seat go all the way up and then getting in the back.

A hand grips your neck to pull you into a kiss, it’s hungry, almost as if Jihyo wanted it just as much as you. Her lips wander over your jaw and neck to leave dark bruises, staking her claim even if she insists you’re just friends.

Jihyo finds her place on her knees in the floorboard when you part as she had extra space now, pulling your hand so you get the hint to sit in the seat in front of her. She’s slipping your sweatpants off in no time taking your underwear with them and placing your legs on her shoulders.

“Oh, you’re soaked baby.” A teasing voice, “is that why you couldn’t sleep?” Her pointer rubbing over your center in circles, “What got you so frustrated, hm?”

“I-fuck.” Her finger quickens the circles, “was- mm, thinking about- y-you.” It takes more time than it should for you to get the words out, Jihyo smiling up at you while mockingly nodding her head.

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking pretty girl?”

“Y-your-“ You’re cut off by a finger entering you, your words getting replaced by a gasp following by moans.

“Come on use your words.”

“Mouth. Want your mouth.” Your speech caveman like as you’re filled with need for the older girl.

Now she makes herself busy kissing your thighs, they’re messy and her teeth bite down on your skin no doubt leaving bruises but she soothes over them with her tongue. Her mouth came close to your center and you subconsciously spread your legs wider for her.

“Want me to taste you baby?”

You had never been more attracted to her, blown pupils staring up at you as she’s on her knees about to eat you out, her own saliva coating her mouth and chin from the messy kisses she left.

“Please.”

Her tongue is immediately on you, leaving no room to tease you and going straight into devouring you. Three fingers enter you without warning causing you to tangle your hand in her hair, the other gripping the back of her leather seat.

“Jihyo. Fuck.”

Your nails dig into her scalp as you pull her hair slightly causing a groan, the vibrations stimulating you even more. Her left hand grips your thigh, red marks underneath her fingers and indents from her nails.

“I missed tasting you.” Her cheek rest on your thigh as she parts to catch her breath, still moving her fingers. She had seen you less than 48 hours ago, eating you out in a random room at a friend’s house during a get together that involved way too much wine, “Want my pretty girl to cum all over my tongue.”

With that she reconnects her mouth to your core, moaning instantly at the taste.

“‘M so close Hyo.” You manage to whimper out.

“I’ve barely even touched you baby.”

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, and your hips at her teasing.

“Is that really how you should talk to the woman giving you an orgasm?” A playful grin on her face.

You roll your eyes again and just as you’re about to speak her fingers curl just right, and her lips suck on your clit.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

Her fingers speed up as does her tongue.

“Cum for me baby”

As soon as you do she removes her fingers so she can taste you fully, collecting all of the wetness on her tongue as you ride your high, hand on her head to keep her mouth against you as you basically ride her face.

When you finally settle, closing your eyes while catching your breath. Finally opening your eyes you see Jihyo looking back up to you with a cocky smile on her face.

“Good?” A teasing lilt to her voice, she knows how good it was.

You don’t answer besides pushing her head away so you can move to the other side of the backseat to put your underwear and pants back on.

Jihyo loved to tease you, your reactions were amusing to her. Whether when fucking you or in normal conversations.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jihyo wiping her mouth and then looking at you, with a smile that you don’t want to unpack, it was different than usual. But it doesn’t last long before she back at smirking and teasing you.

“See you in a couple days?”

“No.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that takes over, no truth to what you say. You open the door and get out but Jihyo keeps it open as you walk away.

“Come on.” She drags out.

“Go home Jihyo.”

She does go home, however you do in fact call her again in a couple days to come over again. Her backseat becoming all too familiar over time.

[novaursa]

Flame Kissed

- Summary: As you and Aegon never had a problem expressing your desires openly, neither did your dragons. And as both of you just tormented the inhabitants of the Red Keep, your dragons kept the whole capital awake for weeks.

- Pairing: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, has same violet eyes as Aegon, and is bonded with dragon called Starfyre. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 1 773

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The evening light filtering through the tall windows of the Red Keep. Your shared laughter filled the room as you playfully pushed him onto the bed. His platinum blond hair, tousled and wild, framed his handsome face, and his eyes, the same striking violet as yours, glowed with mischief and desire.

"Y/N, you can't just pounce on me like that," Aegon teased, though he made no effort to push you away.

"You love it when I do," you retorted with a smirk, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips.

He groaned appreciatively, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Gods, I do. What would I do without you?"

"Be bored out of your mind," you quipped, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his face.

Aegon’s touch was fire against your skin, his lips tracing a path down your neck now, setting your nerves alight. The world beyond your chambers ceased to exist, lost in the fervor of young love and unrestrained desire.

"Y/N," Aegon whispered, his breath hot against your ear, "do you think they'll hear us again?"

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the distant mating roars from the Dragonpit. "Only if we’re louder than Starfyre and Sunfyre."

His eyes sparkled with determination, and he pulled you closer, his hands roaming with a possessive hunger. “A challenge, then?”

Before you could respond, his lips claimed yours with a fervor that left you breathless. Your bodies entwined, you gave yourselves over to the heat of the moment, each touch and kiss a testament to the connection you shared. 

The two of you lost yourselves in each other, your movements becoming more urgent, driven by the undeniable bond. The heat between you was mirrored by the dragon fire coursing through your veins, the primal connection of your dragons, Starfyre and Sunfyre, heightening your senses.

Just as your passion reached its peak, the door to your chambers burst open. You barely had time to pull a sheet around yourself before Tyland Lannister stood gaping at the doorway, his face a picture of shock and horror.

"My apologies, Your Grace, I—" Tyland stammered, his cheeks flaming as red as his house's banner. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before muttering, "The dragon cries, the city can't find any sleep for days now... Queen Alicent wanted me to inform you..."

Aegon, always the quicker thinker, burst into laughter, his voice rich and full of amusement. "Tyland, you have the worst timing imaginable."

"Clearly," Tyland managed, his voice strained and his eyes widened further, if that was even possible, and he turned on his heel, muttering under his breath about the improprieties of royalty. “I’ll… I’ll leave you to it, then,” he stammered, practically tripping over his own feet as he fled.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you and Aegon erupted into fits of laughter, the awkwardness of the moment melting away. “Well, that’s one way to scare a Lannister,” Aegon says as he pulls you back to him, his hands sliding beneath the sheet to find your skin once more.

"Where were we?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Right about here," you replied, your own hands eager to resume their exploration of his body.

Tyland Lannister hurried through the corridors of the Red Keep, his face still flushed from the scene he had stumbled upon. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. The sound of the dragons' mating cries echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the intense bond shared by Starfyre and Sunfyre, and by extension, their riders.

Reaching the king’s chambers, Tyland paused to compose himself before entering. Inside, King Viserys lay on his bed, looking pale and frail, with Alicent and Grand Maester Orwyle attending to him. The room was heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and the tension of unspoken worries.

"Your Grace," Tyland said, bowing deeply. "I bring news."

Alicent turned her sharp gaze on him, her brow furrowing. "What is it, Tyland? And why do you look so flustered?"

Tyland cleared his throat, struggling to find the right words. "I went to fetch Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N, but... they are currently indisposed."

Viserys coughed weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "Indisposed? Explain yourself, Tyland."

Tyland shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Alicent, whose eyes had narrowed even further. "I found them... together, Your Grace. In a rather... intimate situation."

Alicent's lips pressed into a thin line, her annoyance palpable. "This is hardly the time for such distractions. The entire capital is on edge with those dragons of theirs. It’s been a week of incessant noise, and now this?"

Viserys managed a weak smile, his eyes glazing with a hint of amusement. "Young love," he murmured. "At least they are well-matched."

"Well-matched or not," Alicent snapped, "they have responsibilities. We cannot afford for them to be so... preoccupied, especially now."

Grand Maester Orwyle stepped forward, his expression grave. "The king's health is of paramount concern. Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N must be made aware of the urgency of the situation."

Tyland nodded, still feeling the lingering embarrassment of his earlier encounter. "I will speak with them again, Your Grace."

"No need," Viserys said softly. "Let them be, for now. They will come when they are ready."

Alicent huffed, clearly dissatisfied. "Very well, but they should be reminded of their duties."

As Tyland bowed and exited the chamber, the sound of the dragons outside seemed to grow louder, their cries a reminder of the powerful connection that mirrored the one shared by Aegon and Y/N. The whole of King’s Landing was indeed on edge, the unrest within the castle walls reflecting the unease of the city below.

Back in their chambers, you and Aegon lay entwined, the earlier intrusion by Tyland a distant memory as you lost yourselves in each other once more. Aegon’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

"Do you think Tyland will ever recover from his shock?" Aegon asked with a chuckle.

You laughed softly, your fingers running through his hair. "He might need some time. But we should probably make an appearance soon."

Aegon sighed, his hold on you tightening. "I know. But for now, let’s just stay like this a little longer. The world can wait."

You nodded, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his embrace. For a few precious moments, the worries of the world faded away, leaving only the love and passion that bound you and Aegon together. 

A week later, the dragons' cries had finally ceased, bringing a blessed silence to the Red Keep. The sunroom, bathed in morning light, was a tranquil haven where you and Aegon enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. You sat comfortably in his lap, sharing food and laughter, the ease of your affection evident to anyone who might see.

Aegon's fingers lazily traced lines on your thigh as he fed you a piece of fruit, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I think I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice a low purr.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m sure you could. But we both know we have duties to attend to eventually."

Just then, Tyland Lannister appeared behind the servants, his expression a mix of determination and apprehension. Aegon’s gaze flicked up, and he grinned, his amusement clear. "Well, if it isn’t our dear friend Tyland. Come to join us for breakfast?"

Tyland cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "Your Highnesses, I, uh, need to speak with you both."

"Do you now?" Aegon replied, his tone light. "Well, don't just stand there. Have some breakfast first. We wouldn’t want you fainting from hunger, would we, Y/N?"

You smiled, playing along. "Of course not. Please, sit, Tyland."

Tyland hesitated but ultimately sat across from you, trying to maintain his composure. "Thank you, Your Grace. But I’m here on a matter of importance."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, his hand never leaving your thigh. "Importance, you say? Do tell."

Tyland struggled to find his words, clearly flustered by your and Aegon’s casual intimacy. "The Queen has requested that I remind you both of your responsibilities. The King’s health is fragile, and your presence is required more frequently at court."

Aegon leaned back, his expression one of mock seriousness. "Responsibilities, hm? And here I thought my only duty was to ensure my dear wife’s happiness."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning into Aegon. "It seems we’ve been neglecting our duties, my love."

Tyland’s face grew redder by the moment, his discomfort evident. "Your Highnesses, this is no laughing matter. The Queen is quite insistent that you both... focus."

Aegon’s eyes twinkled with defiance as he picked up another piece of fruit, offering it to you. "Did you hear that, Y/N? We need to focus. Perhaps Tyland has a point. Maybe we should focus on finishing our breakfast first."

You took the fruit from Aegon’s fingers, your gaze never leaving his. "I think that’s an excellent idea."

Tyland groaned inwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Please, Your Highnesses, I beg of you. The King’s condition is worsening, and the Queen is at her wit’s end."

Aegon’s demeanor softened slightly, though his playful spirit remained. "Alright, Tyland. We understand. We’ll make more of an effort to be present. But you must admit, we’ve earned a bit of time to ourselves, haven’t we?"

Tyland sighed, seeing a glimmer of hope. "Yes, Your Highness. But please, remember your duties. The realm depends on it."

Aegon nodded, his tone becoming more serious. "We will, Tyland. You have our word."

Relieved, Tyland stood to leave. "Thank you, Your Highnesses. I will inform the Queen."

Aegon’s playful mood returned, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear that made you giggle. Tyland cleared his throat again, looking as if he might bolt from the room at any moment.

“Is there anything else, Tyland?” Aegon asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence.

Tyland shook his head quickly. “No, Your Grace. That will be all.”

As Tyland hurried out of the room, Aegon’s laughter filled the space. “Poor Tyland. I think we may have traumatized him.”

You smiled, turning to kiss Aegon softly. “We should probably behave, at least a little.”

Aegon sighed dramatically. “If we must. But only for you, my love.”

The two of you continued your breakfast, the weight of your responsibilities momentarily lightened by the shared laughter and love that bound you together. The sunroom seemed brighter, the food tasted sweeter, and for a little while longer, the world outside could wait.

[fangdokja]

He made the word “forever” sound like a death sentence.

❤︎ Synopsis. A twisted romance where a ruthless man relentlessly claims your heart and soul, leaving no room for escape—only surrender. Each touch, each word, tightens the grip of his love, until you realize you’re already his.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Geto Suguru x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Ryōmen Sukuna x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Naoya Zen’in x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. The Ruin of You - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 3,963

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non con kissing and touching, forced relationship, religious themes, mysoginism, BDSM

♡ Gojo Satoru.

The world fell silent in his presence, and in that stillness, you realized something primal was at play—something ancient and cruel. His hands moved with a surgeon’s precision, fingers tracing over your skin like a scholar memorizing forbidden scripture. Gojo Satoru was a man whose power had long eclipsed his humanity, and he reveled in it. His voice was honeyed venom, soothing and lethal, each syllable embedding itself into the marrow of your bones. “You always act like you hate me,” he murmured, tilting his head, white hair glowing like a halo in the dim, suffocating light. “But I see it. The way you shudder when I touch you. That’s not fear, is it?”

The words hung in the air, cloying, as if the room itself had conspired to trap you. His laughter was soft, almost affectionate, and it grated against the walls of your mind, peeling back layers of resistance you didn’t know you had. When he pinned you, his body was unrelenting—muscles coiled like a predator’s, his weight suffocating yet intoxicating. “You think you can escape me?” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, breath warm and damp like the first exhale of a man in watery grave. “You don’t run from God, darling. You kneel.”

———

The truth of him was unbearable. Gojo Satoru was too bright, too vast, a sun that scorched rather than warmed. The endless blue of his gaze was not the serene sky—it was a predator’s snare, a calculated trap that lulled you into believing you were safe. You were not. You had never been safe from him.

His obsession was cruel in its simplicity. He loved the ideation of you more than he could ever love you. He loved how you clawed and scratched, how you denied him even as your breath hitched under his touch. His power made him a god, but it was your resistance that made him feel human, and he loathed how much he needed that. “You’re so fragile,” he mused one night, his voice a silken thread winding around your throat, tightening with every syllable. “It wouldn’t take much to destroy you. A flick of my wrist, a snap of my fingers. But I’d miss this.”

And by this, he meant the trembling, the tears, the bruises that bloomed under his touch like forbidden flowers. He relished the dissonance—the way your body betrayed you, hips arching against him even as your lips spat venom. “You’re lying to yourself,” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above yours, taunting, maddening. “But that’s okay. I’ll teach you how to be honest. I’ll strip away every lie until there’s nothing left but the truth of us.”

His touch was a contradiction, equal parts reverence and desecration. He handled you as though you were a sacred relic, his lips brushing over your skin like a priest in prayer, but his grip was iron, unyielding, bruising. He dragged you to the precipice of your own undoing, holding you there with a sadist’s patience, forcing you to confront the abyss he’d carved into your soul. And when you finally shattered, when the sobs and screams bled into submission, his smile was blinding, cruel. “There it is,” he spoke softly, almost delicately. “I knew you’d come around.”

Gojo Satoru’s love was suffocating, his need a consuming fire. He didn’t just want you—he wanted every thought, every breath, every fleeting moment of your existence. He wanted to hollow you out and fill the empty spaces with him. You were his muse, his masterpiece, and he would break you into a thousand pieces if it meant he could rearrange you to better suit his vision.

He never let you forget the power he held. When his infinite domain bled into your reality, the air turned sharp, biting, like the edge of a blade pressed to your throat. “You can scream if you want,” he said once, his tone almost thoughtful, almost kind. “No one’s coming for you. No one else deserves to touch what’s mine.”

But the most terrifying part wasn’t the violence or the cruelty—it was the love. The way he whispered your name like a benediction, the way his hands trembled when they cupped your face as though he feared you’d disappear. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice breaking in a way that sent ice racing down your spine. “I’d burn the world for you. I’d kill everyone for you. Don’t make me prove it.”

And you believed him. Of course, you did. Because he was Gojo Satoru, and the universe bent to his will. You could run, you could fight, you could scream—but in the end, it wouldn’t matter. He would find you. He would always find you.

────────────

♡ Geto Suguru.

Geto Suguru had always been a collector. Curses, dreams, people—it didn’t matter so long as they were his. You weren’t special, not at first, but then you learned how to look at him. That sharp defiance in your eyes, the way your trembling body betrayed you even as your lips spat curses at him—it was delicious. He told himself he’d only keep you for a little while, long enough to break you, to see what you’d look like when there was nothing left but him. But now, with his fingers wrapped around your throat, the crescent moons of your nails digging into his forearm, he realized you’d undone him. “Look at me,” he growled, voice fraying at the edges. “Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

There was nothing gentle about the way he took you—no slow unraveling, no pretense of kindness. He wanted you to hurt. Every gasp, every choked sob was a hymn to his twisted devotion. “You should thank me,” he sneered, dark eyes gleaming with something far beyond lust. “No one else would love you like this. No one else could even stomach you.” His words cut deep, but it was the way he kissed you after—bruising, biting, desperate—that made you feel like drowning.

———

The truth of Geto Suguru was a slow poison, a venom that coursed through your veins long after you realized it was too late to escape him. He was deliberate in his cruelty, patient in a way that made you feel like a cornered animal, even when his hands were nowhere near you. He had a way of filling the air around you, suffocating and inescapable, his presence heavy with the kind of darkness that couldn’t be outrun.

To Suguru, you were another treasure in his collection—but one unlike anything he had claimed before. There was a fire in you, a defiance that gnawed at his carefully constructed veneer of control. He told himself he wanted to snuff it out, to see the moment your spirit crumbled beneath the weight of his will. But as days turned into weeks, as your screams turned into whimpers and then silence, he realized it wasn’t the breaking he craved. It was the knowing that he had forged something new from your ruin—a version of you that existed only for him.

“You think you’re better than me,” he said one night, his voice low and dangerous, each word a scalpel carving into your resolve. His hand curled around your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. “But look at you now. You’re still here, still mine. Tell me, how does it feel to be nothing without me?”

There was a reverence in the way he touched you, but it was a reverence that bordered on devastation. His fingers moved over your skin like a sculptor molding clay, testing, reshaping, breaking you down into something he could keep forever. His lips hovered over yours, not in a kiss but in something far darker, his breath hot and uneven as he whispered, “You’ll thank me one day. When there’s no one else left but me, you’ll see that I’ve done you a favor.”

He wasn’t rough for the sake of it; no, his cruelty was calculated, a series of deliberate acts designed to remind you of your place. When he pressed his weight against you, when his hands left bruises in the shape of his grip, it wasn’t out of passion—it was a claim, a reminder that you belonged to him. And yet, there was an undeniable hunger in his touch, a desperation that betrayed him.

“You don’t even realize, do you?” he murmured against your ear, his tone soft, almost tender, but laced with an edge that made your stomach churn. “How much power you have over me. It’s infuriating.” His fingers tightened around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to make your breath hitch. “But don’t get any ideas. I’ll destroy you before I let you think you have the upper hand.”

And destroy you he did—piece by piece, slowly, methodically. He unraveled you with the precision of a man who had spent years perfecting his craft. But it wasn’t just your body he wanted; it was your mind, your soul, the very essence of who you were. He wanted to know every thought, every fear, every weakness, so he could twist them into chains that bound you tighter to him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped one evening, his voice a dangerous growl. “You act like I’m the monster here, but you’re the one who made me like this.” There was a crack in his voice, a hint of something raw and unhinged, and it sent a chill down your spine. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? What it feels like to know that no matter how much I hurt you, it will never be enough to make you stay willingly?”

When he kissed you, it was with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. His teeth grazed your lips, drawing blood, his hands gripping your wrists so tightly you thought they might break. And yet, there was something almost tender in the way he buried his face in your neck afterward, his breath ragged, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re mine,” he said, over and over again, like a mantra, like a curse. “No one else can have you. No one else will even look at you when I’m done.”

Geto Suguru’s love was a prison, his devotion a suffocating weight. He didn’t just want to possess you—he wanted to consume you, to erase every trace of who you were until all that remained was what he had made of you. And as much as you hated him, as much as you fought and screamed and resisted, you couldn’t ignore the way his touch set your nerves alight, the way his words twisted into your mind and stayed there, festering, growing.

Because deep down, in the darkest corners of your soul, you knew he was right. There was no one else who would ever want you after him. And there was no escape from the man who had already claimed every part of you worth having.

────────────

♡ Ryōmen Sukuna.

Ryōmen Sukuna was a god in every sense of the word, his very presence a blasphemy against your fragile humanity. He didn’t need chains to bind you—fear was more effective, and he wielded it with the precision of a blade. When he laughed, it wasn’t mirthful; it was a serrated sound that scraped against your nerves, leaving you raw. “You’re trembling,” he observed, voice like molten metal. “I can’t tell if it’s because you loathe me or because you desire me. Maybe both.”

He moved like a predator, deliberate and unhurried, savoring every second of your futile resistance. His hands were rough, calloused, dragging over your skin with the weight of inevitability. “Struggle all you like,” he said, his lips curling into a feral grin. “It only makes me want to ravage you more.” And ruin you he did. There was no gentleness in him, no pretense of love—only a hunger that bordered on madness. When he whispered your name, it wasn’t an endearment; it was a claim, a reminder that you were his, body and soul, whether you wanted it or not.

———

Ryōmen Sukuna was not a man but a calamity, a walking desecration of everything you had ever believed sacred. His aura was suffocating, oppressive, the kind of presence that pressed down on your lungs and whispered of your mortality with every shallow breath. He was vast and terrifying, his gaze cutting through you as if he could dissect your very soul. To him, you were a toy, an amusement, and a possession all in one. And Sukuna did not share his possessions.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he said one night, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air. “Like you think you can escape. Like you think your defiance means something.” His grin widened, sharp and wicked, his teeth bared in a way that was almost animalistic. “It’s cute, really. How fragile you are. How breakable.”

He liked to watch you tremble—not because he enjoyed your fear (though he did) but because it was proof of his power. Every shiver, every flinch, every whispered plea was a testament to the fact that he owned you. He relished it, savored it, dragged it out as long as he could. When his hands ghosted over your skin, they were rough and unyielding, calloused from centuries of violence, and yet they moved with the care of a craftsman sculpting his finest work.

“You don’t even understand, do you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with mockery and something darker, something that made your stomach twist. “What it means to belong to me. You think this is cruelty? Oh, little one, you haven’t even begun to see what I’m capable of.”

His touch was devastating, a deliberate blend of pain and pleasure designed to keep you on the edge of madness. He didn’t care for gentleness—there was no patience in him for such things. When he pinned you down, it was with a force that stole the breath from your lungs, his weight an inescapable reminder of his strength. His hands left bruises like brands, his teeth marked your skin with the ferocity of a beast claiming its mate.

“You’re mine,” he snarled against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Every inch of you. Every thought. Every breath. Say it.”

You didn’t want to. You swore you wouldn’t. But the words came anyway, dragged from you by the sheer weight of his will, and when you finally whispered them, his grin turned predatory. “Good girl,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension and satisfaction. “See? You can be taught.”

But it wasn’t enough for him to claim you. Sukuna wanted to destroy you, to unmake and rebuild you until the person you had been was nothing more than a distant memory. He took pleasure in your resistance, in the way you fought even when you knew it was futile. “Keep struggling,” he taunted, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “It makes it more fun for me. And when you finally break, when you finally give in—oh, the look on your face will be exquisite.”

There was no tenderness in Sukuna, no pretense of love. What he felt for you was darker, more primal, a hunger that bordered on obsession. He didn’t want your heart—he wanted your submission, your complete and utter surrender. And he would stop at nothing to get it.

“You hate me,” he said one night, his tone almost contemplative as he studied the tears streaking your face. “But you hate yourself more, don’t you? For the way your body responds. For the way you can’t help but want this, even when you know you shouldn’t.” His grin widened, cruel and knowing. “That’s the difference between you and me, little one. I don’t fight what I am. And soon, you won’t either.”

Sukuna’s love, if it could be called that, was a consuming fire. It burned away everything you were, leaving only ashes in its wake. But in those ashes, he found beauty. He didn’t just want to possess you—he wanted to hollow you out, to carve his name into the core of your being until there was nothing left of you that didn’t belong to him.

And the worst part? Deep down, in the darkest corners of your soul, you knew you would never escape him. You could run, you could fight, you could scream—but in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Ryōmen Sukuna was not a man you could flee from.

He was your fate, your curse, your god.

And you were his. Forever.

────────────

♡ Naoya Zen’in.

Naoya Zen’in was a man born into power and arrogance, and he wielded both with a cruelty that left no room for mercy. To him, you were a possession, a thing to be owned and controlled. But there was something about the fire in your eyes, the way you spat his name like a curse, that made him want to break you all the more. “You think you’re better than me?” he sneered, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back to meet his coldhearted eyes. “That you’re worth more than what I’ve decided you are?”

His voice was razor-sharp, cutting through you like a scalpel. He didn’t care about your tears, your pleas—if anything, they only fed the sadistic spark in his eyes. “You’ll learn,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll teach you to respect me. To worship me.” His touch was bruising, his movements deliberate, each one designed to remind you of your helplessness. When he smiled, it was a cruel thing, a promise of pain to come. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you remember this. Every time you close your eyes, you’ll see me.”

———

Naoya Zen’in was a man who thrived on control—on the knowledge that everything in his world bent to his will, even you. Especially you. He was raised to see women as tools, objects to be claimed, and yet when he looked at you, something more feral burned beneath his skin. You weren’t compliant, and that enraged him. You dared to meet his gaze, to resist him, and it made him want to tear you apart just to see if that defiance would last when you were nothing but a trembling, shattered version of yourself.

“You don’t know your place,” he snarled, his tone laced with venom and something darker, something primal. His hand lashed out before you could react, gripping your chin with enough force to make you wince. He tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes—the eyes of a predator who already knew he’d won. “But don’t worry. I’m going to teach you. You’ll thank me when you finally understand what you were made for.”

Naoya’s touch was deceptively smooth at first, fingers skimming over your skin like a whisper of silk. But there was no kindness in him, no softness. His hands lingered just long enough to make your breath hitch before they tightened, before they bruised. Every caress was a threat, every press of his body a reminder of his strength, of the power he held over you.

“Do you think this is a choice?” he hissed, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper that sent a chill running down your spine. “That you can say no to me? To me?” His laugh was sharp and cutting, the sound grating against your nerves like shards of glass. “You don’t get to refuse me. No one does. And certainly not a little thing like you.”

His cruelty wasn’t mindless; it was precise, calculated, designed to break you down piece by piece. He didn’t rush. Naoya was a man who believed in savoring his victories, and you were no different. He toyed with you, dragging out your fear and frustration until it coiled around your chest like a vice. “I can feel your heart racing,” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Are you scared? Good. You should be.”

The way he moved was unrelenting, every action a declaration of his dominance. He didn’t just want your body—he wanted your submission, your obedience. He wanted you to kneel, to look up at him with eyes full of fear and respect, to say his name like a prayer. “You think you’re strong,” he mocked, his hands pinning you in place with an ease that made your stomach churn. “But look at you now. Pathetic. Weak. Exactly as you should be.”

When he spoke, his words were a twisted melody, equal parts honey and poison. “Do you know how many women would kill to be where you are right now?” he said, his grin widening into something monstrous. “And yet here you are, pretending like this isn’t the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. You should be grateful. But no matter. I’ll make you grateful. I’ll make you understand.”

Naoya’s kisses were bruising, punishing, leaving your lips swollen and your skin raw. His teeth scraped over your neck, biting down just hard enough to leave marks that wouldn’t fade for days. “These will remind you who you belong to,” he said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through your chest. “So even if you try to run, even if you think you can escape, you’ll know—deep down—that you’re mine.”

He wasn’t just cruel for the sake of it. Naoya wanted to reshape you, to strip away everything you thought you were and replace it with something new, something that belonged to him completely. “You think you’re strong enough to resist me,” he mused, dragging his thumb over your trembling lips. “But strength doesn’t matter when you’re already mine. I’ll break you. And when I put you back together, you’ll thank me for it.”

Even in his moments of quiet, when his voice softened and his touch lightened, there was no comfort to be found. His words were laced with venom, his gaze a trap. “You’ll come to love this,” he whispered, his tone almost gentle, but the cruelty in his smile betrayed him. “One day, you’ll realize that this is what you were made for. To be mine. To belong to me in every way that matters.”

Naoya Zen’in was not a man who loved; he was a man who consumed. He devoured every part of you—your strength, your pride, your will—until there was nothing left but the version of you he had created. And when he looked at you, broken and trembling beneath him, he didn’t see defeat.

He saw perfection.

────────────

Each man was a storm in his own right, their darkness suffocating and all-consuming. There was no escape, no salvation—only the relentless pull of their obsession, dragging you deeper into the abyss. And as much as you hated them, hated what they turned you into, you couldn’t deny the way your body betrayed you, the way your heart stuttered in fear and something else you dared not name.

────────────

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[maplegracefour]

Two Idiots and a Wedding | Part One

Summary: When the invitation for your cousin’s wedding arrives, and you see that bold ‘+1’ you sigh, remembering the white lie you had told her about seeing someone. You realise that you’re not getting out of it and that you’re going to have to figure something out…

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~845 Words

Author's Note: Here it is! There's more to come and I know it's short, I've just been super busy with work and some family things. But rest assured more is on the way!!

“No, absolutely fucking not.” He says, staring you down as though you had grown a second head.

You sigh. “Please. I’m begging you, Ted already said no!” You look over at him, his brow is furrowed and he’s leaning forward, hands clasped together as he stares right back at him.

He raises an eyebrow at that though. “You asked Ted first?”

Head cocked to the side, you give him a confused expression in response.

A moment of silence weighs heavily between you. You aren’t quite sure if he’s offended that you asked Ted before him. Your eyes plead with him silently, fingers crossed on top of your lap.

“I’ll pay for everything?” You offer. A desperate last offer. “Flights, accommodation, drinks, food. Literally everything.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back into the couch, a loud sigh escaping his lips. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Why did you tell them you had a boyfriend when you didn’t?” He asks you at the airport and you have to try and not let your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“I just didn’t know what to say when they asked me about a plus one. I panicked.” You explain.

“Right.” He says, not fully convinced. “So, because you were put on the spot, you lied?”

When he glances over at you, you’re looking extremely unimpressed. “I never claimed it was a good idea.”

He chuckles, slipping his headphones back on and shaking his head.

On the flight, you give him a full rundown on the family, and the friends. Essentially anyone who he should already know. You work on a game plan. The closer you get to your destination, the more nervous you become.

“Anything off limits?” You ask. “Any boundaries?”

“Boundaries?” He raises an eyebrow. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, like no kissing, no hand-holding. Any names or anything like that?” You explain yourself.

“Oh, no. I don’t think so.“ He shrugs. “Maybe kissing would make things a little weird.” He says. 

You nod, understanding fully. “Kissing is off the table.”

The flight is smooth, thank goodness. And you land safely in the airport. As you make your way to the car hire centre, you notice Schlatt making an extra effort to walk closer to you than usual, your arms brushing often, occasionally even feeling his knuckles gently tap yours as you walk side by side. You choose not to think anything of it.

Once in the car, you make your way to the hotel. Schlatt drives, letting you sit in your nerves in the passenger seat, unsure if it’s making it easier or worse.

Your knee bounces involuntarily, eyes trailing across the constantly moving landscape in an attempt to distract yourself. For a while, you don’t notice Schlatt’s hand resting on your knee, the bouncing immediately coming to a halt.

You turn to look at him, eyebrows furrowing. His other hand is draped lazily on the wheel as he glances back at you for a moment. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous, they’re your family.” He says after a few moments of heavy silence.

“My family that I’m about to lie to constantly for 3 days straight. And I’m a terrible liar.” You note.

“Eh,” he shrugs, like it’s nothing. “People have lied about worse. And it’s okay, I’m a pretty good liar, so we balance each other out.” He gives your knee a squeeze and you pretend not to notice.

Pulling up to the hotel, you notice how grand it is. You’re glad, because it had cost a lot of fucking money.

You both walk into the hotel lobby, Schlatt takes all the bags because ‘that’s the boyfriend’s job’. You roll your eyes in response.

“I’m so sorry, there has been a mix-up with our bookings.” The receptionist says when you reach the desk to book in. Frowning, Schlatt looks at you.

“So, what does that mean?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“The system double booked all of our twin rooms, we have executive rooms available which we can offer to you for no extra price.” She offers, sheepishly smiling up at you. She looks like she’s had a long day, you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her.

You sigh softly, brushing your hair from your face. “An executive room will be fine.” You nod, giving her a sympathetic smile.

You check into your new room, taking the keys and silently, Schlatt and yourself make your way up. You hadn’t heard of an executive room but it sounds fancy.

But as you step into the room, you realise why Schlatt has been so quiet. The room, despite being absolutely gorgeous, only has one bed.

He turns to you, putting the bags down as the door clicks closed. “So, how do you want to do this?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

PART TWO HERE

[lemonlover1110]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

Suguru Getou & Kento Nanami

[Chapter 1] A Very Special Birthday

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader x Kento Nanami

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Mommy.” There’s someone poking your face over and over again, very early in the morning. It’s a lot of work for you to get your eyes open, but you eventually get them open to find your now three-year-old with a bright smile on her face. Her energy is infectious which causes you to smile as well. You fill up her face with kisses until she stops you, claiming, “Brush your teeth.”

“You could be nicer, Sayuri.” You respond with a chuckle. You stand up from the bed and walk to the bathroom to start your morning. You rush this morning since you want to rush to be by your baby’s side. But when you exit the bathroom, she isn’t in your room. You furrow your brows, but your eyes land on the half open door. You catch the smell of the delicious food, and you immediately know who else is joining you in the apartment.

You walk out of your room to find your daughter pulling the hem of her father’s pants. His back is to you since he’s facing the stove. He doesn’t wear anything special today even though it’s a very special day; just black jeans, and a long black sleeve shirt that’s rolled up to show off his sleeves of tattoos– And because it’s hot since he’s near a stove. You hear Suguru tell her, “Why don’t you wait by the table, princess? I’m scared you’ll get burned if you’re around here.”

“I wanna help.” She says but he’s hearing none of it. And to help out Suguru, you walk over to them and pick her up from the floor. You kiss her face over and over again.

“There’s my sweet birthday girl. How are you, honey?” You ask, and there’s a bright smile on her face. She forgets about the fact that she wants to help out her father, and remembers the fact that it’s her very special day; she’ll forget about it in a couple of minutes, but she gets so very excited when she remembers. “How does it feel to be three?”

“Good.” She answers. Suguru finally gets her breakfast off the stove and cuts it into small pieces for his precious daughter. He opens the fridge and he asks,

“You want whipped cream on your pancakes?” And she almost bursts your eardrums as she yells back a very enthusiastic yes. It’s a very special occasion, of course Suguru is going to spoil his little princess. When the sweet breakfast is ready, he sets it down on the table for her, and you put her down so she can take a seat.

You glance at it, pancakes smothered in syrup with some strawberries and blueberries on top– And of course, the whipped cream the Suguru added. You two watch as she begins to eat, and when she takes her first bite, Suguru says, “I made some pancakes for you too.”

“You better, or else I would’ve kicked you out.” You joke, although he takes the threat seriously. He did use your stove and your ingredients to make the breakfast, the very least he could do is make some for you. You prepare your plate, watching how Suguru takes a seat next to his daughter. You speak up, “Didn’t you make anything for yourself?”

“I had some breakfast with Kumi.” He answers, and your brows raise. You don’t give it much thought though, that’s his girlfriend. You just were expecting him to have breakfast with his daughter, that’s all. At the very least, he sits next to her after making her a delicious plate of food. He focuses his attention on his daughter, laughing as she makes a mess. “Is that good, princess? You seem to enjoy it.”

“Yes.” She answers with her mouth still full of food, which is something that Suguru would usually reprimand her for but he lets it slide this morning. You walk over to the table and take the other seat beside her, quietly beginning to eat. 

Suguru watches his greatest gift, a subtle smile on his lips. Her birth wasn’t all that ideal since your pregnancy wasn’t planned at all but she became his whole world when he first listened to her heartbeat. You were friends with Suguru, and after he broke up with his girlfriend, he needed a rebound. You were also having some romantic problems, and it ended up in you seeking comfort in each other. Your relationship (if it can even be called that) ended a couple months after, when he got back with his girlfriend, Kumi. Your friendship practically ended because there was no way you could go back to normal after hooking up, in the end, you had no option but to go back to being friends since you were pregnant.

Your pregnancy was rather… A weird one. When you found out, your first thought was to get an abortion since you weren’t with Suguru, but when you told him the news, the man almost begged you to keep the baby. After much pondering, you decided to keep your daughter and to raise her alongside Suguru, even if you weren’t together. He moved in shortly after, and lived with you for the first two years of her life, moving out recently to be with his on-and-off girlfriend.

Luckily, you have no complaints about them. Kumi is a wonderful figure for your daughter, and while you aren’t friends, you are civil with each other. She has a good reason to not like you, plus, she’s not the easiest woman to get along with.

“What do you want to do today, Sayuri?” You ask. You’ll be having a small birthday party later in the night, but you don’t have anything planned out for the day. She puts her tiny index finger on her chin, tilting her head slightly to the side. She thinks about what she wants to do, she just has so many options.

“I have a very busy day, so I won’t be able to join you.” Suguru answers, and you’re surprised that he booked clients today of all days. The past two birthdays the man refuses to do any tattoos because he wants to spend all day with his daughter. It seems that his priorities slowly shift… He’s been working a lot lately though, and you might have an idea why.

“It’s alright, Kento is joining us.” You respond, and you watch him roll his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but you know it does. You don’t understand why he’s so hostile with Kento, the pair used to get along well before Sayuri was born, but they seem to butt heads since her birth.

“Doesn’t he have to work?” He asks, and you shake your head in response.

“He asked for the day off.” You tell him, and he scoffs. You can’t help but ask, “Why are you so… Annoyed by it?”

“Sayuri, when you’re done, can you go to your room to change out of your pajamas?” He looks at his daughter, and her brows furrow.

“I haven’t told mommy yet.” She answers, and Suguru sweetly smiles at her.

“You will in a minute, I have to talk to her about something. It’s a surprise.” He lies to lure her away, but she doesn’t easily fall for it. Her ears perk up at the mention of a surprise, which clearly wasn’t Suguru’s best option of words.

“I wanna know.” She says, and Suguru shakes his head. She gives him doe eyes, hoping that’ll help persuade her father since it’s worked in the past. It doesn’t though. 

“It’s a surprise. If you know then I won’t be able to give it to you.” Suguru responds, and she has no option but to stand up from her chair and walk to her room. When she tries to slam the door of her room, Suguru speaks up, “Why does he act like he’s her father? Are you two dating or what?”

“If we were dating, it’d be none of your business. We’re just friends anyway, he just wants to be there for her.” You tell him, and of course he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t like that, it’s clear that Kento is trying to be a parental role and Suguru doesn’t like that. Sayuri has one father, that’s all she needs. “She adores Kento anyway.”

“Isn’t he coming to the birthday party? Isn’t that enough?” Suguru replies. You click your tongue, annoyed by his response.

“He took the day off to come with us, the very least I can do is allow him.” You answer, and he stands up from the chair to clean up. You’re not telling Kento to stay home because of the simple fact that Suguru doesn’t like the man– He chose to work today, that’s his own fault.

“I’m Sayuri’s father.” He says, and you chuckle. 

“I didn’t say otherwise, Kento is not even my boyfriend.” You stand up as well, grabbing your plate and taking it to the sink as Suguru begins to do the dishes.

“He likes you.” Suguru states, and you let out a sigh. Suguru always had the bad habit of accusing every man that looks your way of liking you. You had serious problems with his jealousy when you were seeing each other.

“I wish. He’d be the perfect step father for Sayuri.” You comment, and he clenches his jaw. He’s about to say something about it, but Sayuri calls your name and you rush to her aid.

“Need help.” She says, and you rush to her side to help her change into the outfit that she picked out. You help her put on the yellow dress and the black leggings, before going to the bathroom to grab her hair products to style her hair. You sit on her bed, and she kneels in front of you so you can brush her hair.

“Did you pick, baby? What do you want to do?” You ask her, hoping it’ll take her mind off the fact that you’re doing her hair. Each of your movements always results in a whine from her, even though you’ve barely touched her hair. 

“Playground? Please?” She responds, and you hum in response. You knew she’d land on something similar. You feel Suguru’s eyes on you, staring from the doorway, watching as you do his daughter’s hair. 

“What are you doing, Suguru? It’s weird for you to just stare.” You tell him, grabbing one of Sayuri’s bee hair clips and putting it in the front of her hair.

“Just waiting for you to finish, I have to get going soon.” Suguru says, and Sayuri rises from the floor, running to her father. He picks her up from the floor and kisses her cheek. He caresses her cheek, “Happy birthday, princess. I love you.”

“I love you.” She answers, and it makes the man smile from ear to ear.

“I’ll come back with your present, princess. You’re going to love it.” He kisses her cheek again before putting her down on the floor. He waves at you, and before he can go you speak up,

“Are you still showing up to help me set up?” He nods in response. You awkwardly smile at him before waving, and he waves again before walking away.

“Can we go?” Sayuri asks, and you shake your head.

“Girl, I’m still in my pajamas. Wait for me to get ready.” You chuckle, and she sticks out her bottom lip. You stand up and begin to walk out of the room, and she follows behind you. She never leaves you alone, and honestly, you’re glad she doesn’t.

“Mommy, hurry.”

You keep a close eye on Sayuri as she runs around. You often wonder how so much energy resides in such a small body. She’s sweating as she goes down the slide and quickly runs to go up again. She happily does it over and over again, and you almost laugh, knowing that after the second time you’d be too tired to go up the slide again.

So focused, you miss the man that approaches you, until he finally greets you. You put your hand over your heart, spooked by him. He notices and apologizes, and you stand up from the bench. You playfully hit his arm before giving him a side hug.

“How are you, Kento? I didn’t expect you to come so fast.” You take a seat again, and he takes a seat next to you. He searches the playground, and he spots Sayuri quickly. She’s wearing something yellow, it seems to be her favorite color lately.

“I have nothing to do this morning, so of course I came to see my two favorite girls.” He says, and you immediately think of Suguru. He’s plaguing your mind with stupid ideas. Kento simply isn’t very popular with women, so of course you and your daughter are his favorite girls. “How has she been doing today? Does she realize it’s her birthday?”

“She does, had to tell her like three times but now she knows. She’s using it to her advantage too.” You share, and it makes a chuckle escape his lips. He expected nothing less from her, in fact, he’s proud. “She’s expecting a big gift from you.”

“And she will get one. I’ll give it to her at her birthday party.” He assures you. You love the fact that he spoils her, he’s the absolute sweetest with her. Suguru gets jealous over the fact that Kento is trying to become a father figure to your daughter, but you think it’s sweet. Plus, Kento is more of an uncle than a wannabe father. “Did you already eat breakfast?”

“Suguru came over and made us something.” You answer, and his brows raise, surprised. You don’t understand his reaction though, Suguru always shows up for his daughter. Kento should know better than anyone. Then you hear his stomach growl and you chuckle, reaching into your bag to pull out a snack for him, “I expected you of all people to have eaten something.”

“I’ll just get something to eat after this.” He doesn’t take the snack from your hands, assuming that it’s for Sayuri. He doesn’t want to take something that’s supposed to be for your daughter. You insist that he takes the snack, forcing his palm open and putting the bag in his grasp.

“We’re going out to lunch after this, but that’ll take a while. I have other food packed for Sayuri.” You insist, and Kento opens the small bag of chips. You laugh, looking at the other stuff that you have packed. “She’ll be eating baby carrots.”

“Baby carrots? She’s going to hate me.” He responds, almost spitting out the chips in his mouth because of his sudden regret– He then realizes just how fucking gross that is so he continues chewing slowly. 

“She likes baby carrots, you’ll be fine. Just hide the bag– She’s coming over now.” You warn him, and he hides the bag behind him. Sayuri’s eyes land on him, and she runs over to him with open arms, causing the man to stand up from his seat and crouch down. He welcomes her warm hug, a smile on his lips.

“I missed you, Nanamin.” It makes Kento hug her tighter, but his grip loosens since he gets scared that he’s hurting her in any way. He comes around a lot, but lately he’s gotten too busy. You’re the one that sees him, Sayuri spends the night with her father and you go out with Kento. But their usual princess movie marathons haven’t been happening, and she can’t remember the last time she played dolls with the man that’s in front of her. He kisses her temple before saying,

“I missed you too, Sayuri. Happy birthday.” He responds, and she thanks him. She walks over to you, and Kento retakes his seat. 

“Want my snack.” She tells you, and you reach into your bag to pull out the baby carrots.

“What do you say?” You ask her, and she shrugs.

“I’m hungry.” She answers, and you can only blame Suguru for it. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Please, you say please.” You correct her. You give her the baby carrots, and she quietly begins to munch on them. It makes Kento feel less bad about the fact that he’s eating her bag of chips. He quietly brings it out of hiding, and her eyes light up when she notices it. She extends her small palm out and gives him puppy eyes.

“Can I have some, please?” She puts on her sweetest voice, and she magically remembers the word that seems to slip her mind. Kento isn’t going to refuse. He forgets he’s hungry and how his stomach feels uncomfortable, and he gives her the whole bag of chips. She squeals happily, thinking she has the best uncle in the world, little does she know that the chips are originally hers and he stole them. 

“What do you want for lunch?” Kento asks her while she stuffs her mouth. She ends up shrugging, not having anything in mind since the only thing she wants to eat is the chips that she holds in her hand. Your hand goes to her back and rests on it while you look down at her.

“Do you want a burger, baby? You were begging for one last night.” You suggest, and her eyes light up as she looks up at you. She nods her head in response, getting excited at the thought of eating a cheeseburger with fries. “Then we’ll get one.”

“I was just thinking of a burger too. Great minds think alike.” Kento comments, and she hums in response. She finishes her bag of chips and runs back to the playground. Leaving you alone, you talk with Kento about your lives, mostly joking around with each other.

You dress Sayuri in her special outfit, one that she picked out for this very important occasion. She wanted to look like a certain princess that has a yellow dress, a princess that’s become her favorite for the simple fact that the outfit she wears is her favorite color. You have to prepare the place for her birthday party, and while you were expecting Suguru to show up and help you out, he leaves you stranded. Luckily, you can call Kento for backup and he comes running to aid you; with his help, you manage to get the house and everything ready.

“Are you okay?” Kento asks, when he catches you washing some dishes. He cleaned everything up, so he wonders why you’re cleaning everything again. And why you’re doing it so harshly. Waiting for an answer is useless. He grows impatient. “Does this have to do with Suguru?”

“He told me he was going to come here to help. His family, my family, our friends, and some of Sayuri’s daycare friends. And look at him, he’s not here. He’s not answering my calls either.” You say. “He’s a son of a– You know what? Go check on Sayuri. I have to finish this.”

“You sure? I can finish up here and you can get ready…” Kento offers, but you shake your head in response. You’re far from ready, but in order to relax yourself you need to clean up. It’s odd, but it’s the way you relax. “I’ll go check on her then.”

When you finish rewashing the dishes, you look for another chore to redo. But you look at the time, and realize that you do have to start getting ready. You take a moment to check up on Kento and Sayuri, finding them playing with her dolls before you walk to your room. You leave the door open and change your outfit into something that isn’t your rags, and you put on some light makeup. You don’t put in a lot of effort into it but you manage to look cute. Presentable for your guests.

“You look beautiful.” Kento says when he sees you again. The corner of your lips turn upward, and you mutter a thank you. Your daughter tries to force Kento to pay attention to the rag doll that’s in his hands, and she does so best by hitting him with the plush that’s in her hand. You give her a mom look which is enough to scare her; you’re grateful for it because it’s her birthday and you have no intention of raising your voice at her. 

“Sorry, Nanamin.” She sticks out her bottom lip, something that always works when she needs to be forgiven. He wraps his arms around her, assuring her that it’s okay. She pulls away and asks you, “When is daddy coming?”

“I don’t know, honey. He should get here soon.” You answer. You wish you could reach the man that’s ignoring your calls. He’ll probably show up around the time guests do so you won’t be able to berate him. Knowing him, he’ll leave before you can even get a word in. You think about calling him again, even though you have a feeling your call will go unanswered for the umpteenth time. You then tell her, “Clean up your toys. People will get here soon.”

“Okay.” She answers, and she takes the rag doll from Kento and begins to put them in her toy box. She leaves her favorite doll on her bed, and then walks to you. You grab her hand and take her to the table that you’ve decorated with her favorite princess. You pick her up and sit her down in the middle of the table.

“Let’s take some photos, baby.” You tell her, and you take out your phone to begin taking pictures of her. She smiles showing her teeth, clearly forcing herself to smile for the camera. It makes you laugh. You call Kento and he’s by your side within seconds. He knows what to do immediately, taking the phone from your hand as you walk over and pose by your baby’s side. Kento comments how good you both look and tells you to say “cheese” before snapping a couple of pictures.

“Your turn, Kento. Stand right next to her.” You take the phone from his hand and he poses next to her. The first picture is awkward, but then Sayuri stretches her arms up, wanting to be picked up. So he does it. The second picture is much cuter, and you swear you’ll print it out and frame it. Sayuri and her uncle Nanamin. It makes you say, “Let me take another picture. You two are so cute.”

You’re so caught up in what you’re doing that you don’t hear the front door open, and when you realize, it’s because Suguru’s voice enrages you, “Aw are taking pictures without me?”

“Let me take another one.” You completely ignore Suguru, deciding that yelling (your way of voicing your feelings at the moment) isn’t the best thing to do right now. You have your daughter that’s right in front of you. Suguru doesn’t like being ignored, if you don’t acknowledge him, neither will Kento. Sayuri only speaks up when Kento puts her on the ground, and that’s when she runs to her father, excited to finally see him again.

“There’s my princess. How are you doing, baby? I hope your day has been amazing.” Suguru kisses her cheeks when he picks her up from the ground. You cross your arms as you watch them, your eyes falling on Kumi who is staring back at you. Disdain in her eyes which makes you roll your eyes. You usually try to disguise your annoyance, but today you’re fed up with her and her boyfriend. You don’t have the energy to be nice to them.

“Kento, come with me to the kitchen, please.” You look at Kento, and he nods in response. He follows after you. He helps you out with what you need to finish up, doing so quietly since he senses you’re annoyed. He watches as you get more irritated as you hear Suguru and Kumi talking to your daughter.

“Surprised you didn’t yell at him.” Kento lowers his voice to talk to you, not wanting anyone to hear. You raise your brows, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Not while Sayuri is there.” You answer. You don’t want to cause a scene yet. The doorbell rings, and you have to take a deep breath. You need a minute to calm down. The man that’s next to you knows you like the back of his hand. He ends up saying,

“I’ll open the door.”

Interacting with everyone at first is hard, but you loosen up and stop paying attention to Suguru around an hour in. You’re celebrating your baby’s third year of life, you shouldn’t let Suguru ruin your night. You manage to ignore him at the beginning of the night, talking to friends and family, as well as paying attention to your daughter. 

There comes a moment that you do have to interact with him, and it’s when you have to sing happy birthday to your daughter. Even then, you don’t pay much attention to him. Kento turns off the lights and you light up three small candles before everyone begins to sing to your daughter. 

Her eyes glance at the tiny fires in front of her, and she’s too engrossed by it to pay attention to the people that sing to her. Until she hears her name, and she looks up at her father and then at you. You two chuckle, exchanging a look with each other before focusing back on her. When the song comes to an end, Suguru has to remind her, “Blow out the candles, princess.”

When she finally puts her lips together and blows out the candles, and the moment the candles are put out, Kumi steps out of the place which causes Suguru to run after her. Your annoyance is back and worse than before. You usually take pictures with her after the candle is blown out– Either during her birthday, Suguru’s, or yours, it’s your tradition. But he steps out for some reason.

“Where’s Suguru? I want to take some pictures.” Suguru’s mother asks when the lights are turned back on. Sayuri also looks around for her father, but she doesn’t spot him. Luckily, she spots Kento and she extends her hand and reaches out for Kento.

“Nanamin.” She calls out for him, and he runs to be by her side. That’s when you take your customary pictures, even if they aren’t with Suguru. Kento takes his place, and helps Sayuri cut the first slice of the cake. They both hold a knife and Kento sticks it into a corner of the cake. They serve the first slice, and they put it on a paper plate. Kento then gives it to her.

“You can eat it, honey. I’ll finish up here.” Kento tells her, and she gets off the chair that she stands on, walking to the couch to eat her slice of cake. Kento begins to serve everyone a slice, and you’re thankful that he’s by your side because you’re so close to losing it.

“Thank you.” You mutter to Kento, helping him serve the cake. You finish up, making sure there isn’t a single slice left for Suguru or Kumi, and you take a seat. 

Ten minutes later, they’re back inside, and Kumi looks annoyed. Suguru sighs and looks around before he says, “I hope there’s some cake left.”

“There isn’t.” You answer. You make sure to hum the next time you take another bite, wanting to make note of how good the cake is, and how he won’t be having any. Until your daughter gives her plate to her father, putting her hand over her tummy and announcing,

“I’m full.” He happily takes the plate from her. He offers some to his girlfriend, but she shakes her head in response. Her arms are crossed and she tries to make herself go unnoticed. Suguru tries to sit down on the empty spot next to you, which causes you to stand up and practically run elsewhere. 

Your anger doesn’t go unnoticed.

Shortly after, people begin to leave one by one. Sayuri wants to open her gifts, but you hold off till almost everyone is gone because you’re scared that she’ll react badly if she opens a gift she doesn’t like. Suguru’s parents are the last to leave, and you’re left with Kento, Suguru, Kumi, and your daughter, of course.

You’re about to pick a random gift to give to her, but Suguru says, “Open mine first!”

He grabs the gift that he wrapped for his baby girl, and he gives it to her. She unwraps it, and her tiny brows furrow. It’s a cute pink stuffed animal… She glares at her father and then says, “I don’t like it.”

“Huh? Kumi told me that it’s what kids want these days. Her niece has one and she loves it.” Suguru says, but that doesn’t change his daughter’s mind. She tosses it to the side, and while you’d lecture her about being grateful for her gift, you’re mad at Suguru. He deserves it for the awful gift.

“Nanamin.” She looks at Kento, and he raises his brows before realizing what she wants. He looks for his gift. He gives it to her, and her eyes light up when she unwraps it and sees a doll that she keeps seeing on TV. 

“What do you say, Sayuri?” You say, and she wraps her arms around Kento. He wastes no time in hugging her back.

“Thank you.” She responds, and Kento smiles.

“I’m glad you like it, Sayuri.” Kento replies. You watch Suguru’s face, full of contempt which almost makes you smirk. Maybe some other time you’d worry about his thoughts, how he probably thinks that Kento is trying to take his place. But you hope that’s what he’s thinking now, and hope that he’s seething at the fact that your daughter prefers Kento’s gift over his dumb one.

You continue passing her gifts but none surpass Kento’s. She goes to her room to play with her new toys, while Suguru, Kento, and you clean up the place. Kento and Suguru find themselves alone in the kitchen, and Kento tries his best to ignore the man’s presence. But Suguru clears his throat to get Kento’s attention.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Suguru comments, making Kento raise his brows in utter confusion. Kento looks around, wondering if Suguru is talking to him.

“And what is that?” Kento asks, putting the plate that he scrubs down in the sink, washing the soap off his hands. He crosses his arms, turning his attention to Suguru. He repeats the question, “What am I trying to do, Suguru?”

“You’re trying to play dad and I don’t like that. She’s my daughter.” Suguru says, making a scoff come from Kento’s lips. Kento isn’t exactly a confrontational man, he usually tends to agree with people that are in the wrong simply to move on past a problem; he doesn’t have the energy to deal with it all. But he can’t keep quiet for some reason.

“Trying to play dad? By what exactly? By being decent to my best friend and her daughter? By getting her daughter a gift she actually wanted?” He questions, and the attitude that comes from Kento’s voice makes his blood boil. How dare Kento talk to him like that? Who does he think he is? “Last time I checked, I’m just being a good friend, and a great uncle to Sayuri. I’m sorry that I act as a better father figure than you.”

“Excuse me?” There’s full offense in Suguru’s voice. Kento isn’t lying– At least not in his eyes. Sure, Suguru has been a great father but lately he’s been putting other matters before his daughter. Luckily for Sayuri, Kento can step in for her father. 

“You heard me. Guess who spent most of the day with her? I did.” Kento responds. “I took her to lunch, and I was the one who came here to help set up the party. I’m starting to act more like her father than you.”

“I know you like her mother, but don’t you dare think that you’ll ever be anything like Sayuri’s dad. This is your first and only warning, Nanami.” Suguru sounds threatening, but Kento doesn’t take him seriously; at the very least, he doesn’t care. He won’t push it any further though, so Kento bites his tongue.

“Everything okay here?” You ask as you step into the kitchen. You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but you knew they were talking even though the men never talk. Suguru is the one that speaks up,

“Why are you mad?” 

“Why do you think, Suguru?” You put your hand on your hip. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

He’s about to justify his actions– Not showing up to help set up, ignoring your calls, walking out right after singing happy birthday. He’s a guilty man, but he has to justify himself. And you know he does, and you stop him right on his tracks.

“Don’t. Not in the mood. Help Sayuri clean up her new toys and say goodnight. I can’t stand to look at you any longer.” You refrain from talking about his girlfriend because he’ll get upset, but you can’t stand having her in your house for another minute.

“Yes, ma’am.” Suguru answers, choosing his words carefully because he doesn’t want you to be mad at him. Suguru walks past you and out of the kitchen, and when he’s out of sight you walk to Kento. You kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for tonight, Kento. You’re simply the best.” He turns back to washing dishes because his face warms up, and he doesn’t want you to notice how his cheeks turn pink.

“You don’t have to thank me. I loved helping out.” And you stand still for a moment, watching how he washes your dirty dishes. You couldn’t have asked for a better friend. 

[steddieasitgoes]

i wanna be close to you

written for @steddie-week Day 3 prompt: Longing/Mutual Pining Rating: T | wc: 1825 | no cw special thank you to @sidekickjoey for beta-ing this at the last minute (and my day 1 one too because I forgot to mention it on the post!) Read on ao3

The smell of chlorine lingers on their skin. 

Eddie’s hair is a tangled mess, partly from the hours spent horsing around in the pool with the kids and partly because that’s just its default state. He claims it’s for proper curl maintenance, but Steve has a sneaking suspicion he doesn’t like the way a brush or comb feels working through the tangles.  

They’re lying on the roof of Steve’s house. It’s not the smartest of ideas — what with the handful of beers and joint or two they’ve shared in the hours since the kids rode their bikes home — but he can’t deny that it’s nice. There’s an evening breeze chasing off the humid summer heat as the sun sets in the distance. Soon, they’ll be plunged into darkness, with nothing but the dim stars above them and the distant streetlights to keep them visible. 

Steve’s counting down the moments until the darkness overtakes them, until he doesn’t have to worry about Eddie rolling over and spotting the flush that’s spread from the tips of his ears all the way down to his newly pierced belly button (that’s the last time he makes an Uno bet with Robin, that cheater). Until the moment when Eddie won’t be bathed in warm yellows and oranges from the setting sun like some painting that belongs in a museum. 

It’s quiet up here, aside from Eddie’s restless fingers tapping on the tiles of the roof beside him.  Two short taps, another, then a drag, two short taps, three drags, three taps, and so on. It’s not steady like the usual beats he plucks out with his fingers, but he keeps repeating it over and over and over again. It’s a welcome noise, a nice distraction from Steve’s racing heart that he’s sure Eddie could hear if he wasn’t lost in his own thoughts. 

Steve’s never been in a situation like this before, lying so close to someone — thighs touching, hands practically pinned between their sides — and being unable to reach out and touch. 

Not in the way he wants to, at least. 

He wants his lips on Eddie’s. 

He wants to know what the slight stubble on his jaw would feel like against his cheek.

He wants to chart every scar, every imperfection, every tattoo with his hands and then his lips. Maybe even his tongue and teeth. 

He craves to know what it feels like to have Eddie’s weight on top of him and what his warm eyes will look like when he’s the one hovering over him. 

He wants other things, too. 

More moments like this for one, the two of them perfectly content in the stillness of the night. And more moments like earlier, where the noise reached questionable levels as they goofed around with the kids. 

He wants to cook Eddie breakfast, even if it takes him three tries to get the eggs right because he knows he’s picky about the consistency. He wants to hold his hand in public and not have to worry about what anyone is going to say about it. He wants Eddie to be the last person he sees when he goes to bed, and the first person when he wakes up.

He wants and wants and wants, and Steve is used to getting what he wants.

But, Eddie is a want he can’t have. 

It’s too risky. Maybe, if it was just their relationship at stake, Steve would be brave enough to curl his finger around Eddie’s tapping away beside him, give a little tentative touch to test the waters before he fully gives in to his desires. 

But it’s not just his relationship at stake. No, it’s the kids’ and Robin’s and Nance’s. Hell, even Joyce and Hopper’s relationship with Wayne would be muddled if Steve did something to make Eddie uncomfortable. 

He can’t risk it. 

They’ve lost too much over the years to risk losing a friend like Eddie, too. 

So, Steve resides himself to the longing deep in his bones and steals another quick glance at Eddie in all his glory beside him. 

He’s sitting up now, knees pulled up to his bare chest as he looks out into the darkness that’s spreading by the second. He wraps his restless arms around his legs, pillowing his head on the tops of his skinned knees. His eyelashes are long, fanning against his cheek with every slow blink. Eddie stays like that for a moment or two before he turns his head, squinting into the darkness of night until Steve comes into focus.

Steve watches as Eddie’s lips slowly twitch up into a smile that makes his entire body turn molten. It takes every muscle in Steve’s body to keep himself planted on the roof. Internally, he’s at war with himself — one side telling him to run, to dive inside the window to his bedroom and get as far away from Eddie as he can; the other side telling him to throw caution to the wind, close the distance, and go after what he wants just like he’s always done. 

He doesn’t do either. Instead, he pushes himself into a seated position until he’s mirroring Eddie, knees to his chest and his head turned in his direction, soaking in the quiet moment with his best friend. 

Steve’s gotten used to Eddie’s tapping on the roof, to the rustling of the trees in the evening breeze and the final chirps from the birds calling their flock to bed. To the occasional crackling of asphalt underneath worn tires as people come home from work.

Now, it’s quiet. 

Too quiet. 

Too still. 

Eddie doesn’t fidget. He barely even blinks, eyes too focused on Steve darting all around as if he’s trying to commit him to memory. He swears he notices Eddie’s cheeks turning pink — it’s subtle, but it’s there. He knows it is. 

Maybe he feels it too, Steve thinks, eyes closed as he muddles through the emotions swirling in his head. Maybe Eddie wants him, too.

When he opens them, Eddie’s still looking at him with those soft, warm eyes of his. Unwavering. He’s fully sitting up now, too, his head no longer buried in his folded arms over his knees.

His cheeks are still a rosy red color, and something inside Steve snaps at the little detail. His resolve weakens, his fingers itching to close the distance as his heart slows down for the first time since they clumsily climbed onto the roof. 

This is it, Steve thinks. If ever there was a moment to risk it all, it’s right now. 

“Hey, Ed—“ 

The words die on the tip of Steve’s tongue as Eddie kisses him. 

The world goes quiet; even his brain has hit the mute button, allowing him to focus on the press of his lips against Eddie’s. Unfortunately, that’s all it is. A chaste press of lips like middle school kids unsure of what the mechanics of a kiss look like beyond lip-to-lip contact.  

Just as Steve’s leaning in to deepen the kiss, Eddie pulls away. 

Steve watches as the moment registers in Eddie’s mind — his face going from a pleasant rosy red to scarlet in an instant. He fidgets beside him, desperately trying to get to his feet to make his great escape without rolling off the roof. 

It makes Steve nervous. 

So nervous, his hand moves on his own volition, wrapping around Eddie’s wrist to steady the man and his lanky limbs. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says in a rush. He shakes his head, tangled curls flying about haphazardly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t — fuck, I — I don’t know what I thought. I’m just —“ 

“Hey,” Steve calls, barely above a whisper because there’s no reason to yell. He reaches a tentative hand out and curls it underneath Eddie’s chin until he’s looking into those familiar brown eyes. “Don’t apologize. I wanted it, too. I want you.”

Steve's lips are on Eddie’s a moment later. It’s just as awkward, maybe even worse, and for a horrified second, he wonders if this is the universe’s way of saying that they don’t belong together. But then, Eddie’s kissing him back, and the world makes sense. 

It feels good — better than any kiss Steve’s ever had. The scratch of Eddie’s stubble against his cheek is perfect. Eddie’s lips are rougher than any girl he’s ever been with, sure, but Steve still loves it. It makes him feel less bad about grazing his bottom lip with his teeth until he’s pulling it, coaxing a gasp from Eddie that Steve takes advantage of immediately. 

They have to be careful —  way more careful than Steve wants to be right now — so they don’t go rolling off the roof, but they work with what they’ve got. Eddie’s hands settle on the backside of his neck, fingers curling into the strands at the base, pulling gently until Steve’s making his own embarrassing noises into the once quiet night. 

Steve never pulls away, breathing through his nose instead as his lips map the expanse of Eddie’s face — the curve of his lips, the dimple high on his cheekbone and down to the tender spot behind his ear. 

Eddie shifts, hands dropping until they’re resting on Steve’s bare thigh, dangerously close to the hem of his swim trunks. Steve feels himself twitch and as good as it feels, he really, really doesn’t want to do this on his roof where any one of his neighbors might see if they look out their windows. 

“Eddie,” Steve says, finally pulling his mouth away from his warm, inviting skin. “Fuck, Eddie. We can’t—“ Eddie’s face falls and Steve’s heart sinks to his feet as he starts rambling out an explanation. “We can. I mean, of course, we can. I want to. Just not here. Not on my roof—“ Pleased, Eddie resumes his touch, hands trailing closer and closer to the hem as his lips explore his neck now. Steve pants beside him, trying to control himself. “My room. Let’s move this to my room.” 

It’s not elegant in the slightest. The two of them push and shove their way through the small window, nearly getting stuck because they’re too impatient to take turns, but they manage to fall through the window and a second later onto Steve’s plush queen bed. And then they’re lost in each other, lips and hands, and it’s everything Steve thought it would be and somehow even better. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” Eddie whispers later when they’re settled in the sheets. He’s using Steve as a pillow, head rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. Steve’s got one hand in his hair, twirling a tangled lock between his fingers, the other wrapped around Eddie’s shoulder, holding him there just in case Eddie tries to run again. 

“Good.” Steve smiles, dipping his head down to press a kiss into the mess of curls. “I think I’m in love with you, too.” 

[mhsdatgo]

By the way, you can say you hate characters and STILL admit that they were abused or harassed. There's literally nothing wrong. Denying it or romanticizing it because of a strange kink of yours won't make your hate any less evident, trust me.

Rhaenyra was abused. She's continuously taken advantage of, and brushed away the moment she isn't needed anymore. And she experiences this first hand with her own father, who completely ruins motherhood for her when she grows up watching Aemma get impregnated and either miscarry or have the baby be stillborn or die in the cradle. If Viserys had been by her side as a supporter to her claim since the start, he wouldn't have gotten Aemma pregnant again and again in the pursuit of a male child. He wouldn't have married Alicent for the same reason. Even after, the only reason why he still stands by her side, and it's time the fandom accepts this, it's solely because of his grief and guilt, because Rhae is the only remnant of Aemma.

And there it starts. Firstly, groomed and left alone naked and alone by her uncle in a brothel. Secondly, slept with Criston Cole (although she did coerce him, that's still a literal TEENAGER) then she's married to a gay man and still approached super young by her new bodyguard and just one year later she's started giving birth to his children. (Side note: FUCK Rhaenyra x Harwin. FUCK with reverb. With hard K.)

And up to this point, most fan agree that she's had a shitty life, although I don't agree with some of her choices. (like her treatment of Criston Cole and the bastards, not because I'm some kind of bigot, but because passing bastards as trueborn in THAT precise world sets them up for failure, not being legally deserving of a thone DOES NOT mean me hating them. That's for another post.)

To top it all off, she meets her uncle again, and there starts the fanfic self insert. They have sex on a beach the day of Laena's funeral, the only one of the three wives he's ever been canonically loyal to (FUCK you writers) and fans think it's soulmates meeting again or sum shit. They subtly threaten Laenor to fake his death or actually die (that's what they were trying to do, cope harder) and marry mere days after the death of Laena.

Yes, all cute and romantic (for Dumbnyras twats) but literally, has it done anything good? For Rhaenyra or like, anyone else? It just brought Daemon closer to the line of succession. Literally. That's all the good it has done.

Fast forward to ep 10. How do I even start with this? Only Jace seems to be on Rhaenyra's side. It's clear he only obeys to Daemon out of fear and is scared to talk back to him. Meanwhile, he COMPLETELY disregards his wife's, and by his faction's loyalties, QUEEN's, orders, he ignores her wails of pain as she miscarries their daughter out of pure shock and grief for her father's death. He lashes out and chokes her on the same day and people still see him as the malewife to Rhaenyra's girlboss. They're always ready to do award-deserving mental gymnastic to justify this man.

"He was planning war because he wanted to distract himself!!!!" "He only choked Rhae because he was mad at Viserys, he'd never hurt her!!!!!!"

Fuck off. Coming from probably Rhaenyra's #1 hater. Fuck. Off. Don't say you care about her place in the view of men when you're ready to justify shit like this.

This is the same man who runs off and has an affair with a teenager, and then prefers going on and having a badass death instead of joining his wife and children who need him in King's Landing.

Do I like Rhaenyra? No. Do I think that, because of this, she's never been abused, or exploited in any way, in her life? ALSO no. My distaste for her character has NOTHING to do with Viserys, Criston, Daemon, Harwin or literally ANYONE ELSE in her life.

Alicent Hightower time, baby.

My mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my entire bloodline, my Roman Empire. And more. To anyone who thinks of her as nothing but a bitter/jealous girl, go read @feretrumdulcia 's post about this matter cuz there's literally no one I've seen that words it better. (And bub if you're reading, long live you and the way you think.)

https://www.tumblr.com/feretrumdulcia/720746371814195200/i-have-seen-quite-often-that-many-people-consider

Anyone who can read this and argue that Alicent is envious/jealous or bitter, honestly needs to take the heart shaped sunglasses off, get off tumblr and Ao3, learn what media literacy is and start learning how to possess a crumble of it. To us it makes sense to synpathize with both, because we've seen the big picture. To Alicent, Rhaenyra gave her virtue to the man that almost killed her brother, and chose to believe she did not out of trust and maybe nostalgia for her friendship and easier times, only to have her father be blamed and taken away from her as a result.

She has four kids in the span of, how much? Five, six years? Seven at best? Helaena and Aemond are NINE MONTHS APART. Viserys didn't even let her rest after she gave birth to her daughter. And I'm convinced 100% that he kept her as Idk some whore he didn't need to pay for because it's stated that he never wanted Aegon but the son he butchered Aemma for. Why keep on bedding her and forcing children on her when you'd never get what you want from her?

Throughout the series she's called bitter and downright a c*nt for this and that reason. She tries convincing Viserys that Rhae's children are CLEARLY bastards and she's setting herself and them up for failure by committing treason and putting them on the throne? Nah, power hungry, jealous, bitter. She marries Helaena to Aegon as a last resort because she's Valyrian and probably would've received proposals worse than the ones Rhaenyra made that would eventually convince Viserys to give her away? Hates her daughter, abuser, shitty mom. Rhae's sons slit her son's eye out instead of running when they had the chance and she rightfully lashes out? Nah, crazy ass, for the dungeons. She gives money and moon tea to her son's rape victim to ensure she gets a way out and isn't forced to have a baby she doesn't want? Bruh, rape apologist. She goes to Aegon and RIGHTFULLY disciplines him? Abuser. Forced to show her feet to a rancid filthy man to know where her son is? Upholds the patriarchy, hypocrite. She convinces Aegon to start fighting for her family because it's either them or the Blacks and he needs to start putting his life together and fight for them, so she crowns him and makes him King? Treason, deserves death, long live the brothel queens.

Somehow, it is ALWAYS HER FAULT. And those few that admit how wronged she was make fun of her.

CAN SHE FUCKING WIN?! Or y'all just hate her because she isn't Valyrian?

Btw almost all of these arguments are the same for Book!Alicent who I personally believe to be FAR MORE than just a bitter stepmom that hates her stepdaughter. She arguably has more reasons to start a coup against her in the books without that prophecy shit.

TLDR; It's OKAY to hate characters and admit they're abused and taken advantage of at the same time. You don't have a moral high-ground on no one because you hate or love a character instead of the other.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

What if...they met in college? (1)

Instead of being forced into espionage, Kat and Nat grew up in society like normal kids. But fate always forces them together. As roommates in college this time. One popular girl and one nerdy girl.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.7k • Warnings: none • A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nataliasquote !!! This one is for you. The college AU you are so obsessed with. More parts to follow :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

The hallways of the campus' dormitories were chaos. Bags, suitcases, instruments, and people, lots of people, blocked Katya's way as she tried to navigate her way to room 415. They bumped into her left and right, and screamed things in her ear as she parkoured over their stuff, yanking on the handle of her suitcase aggressively whenever it got stuck. 

Move-in day was busy, really busy. She meant to avoid rush hour by arriving early, but she'd gotten stuck in traffic. For two hours. Now her roommate had gotten to their room before she did and undoubtedly claimed the good side, probably leaving her with very little space and very possibly decorating the floor with the world's ugliest rug. 

Katya stopped halfway down the hall to catch her breath, dropping her heavy sports bag to the floor to give her poor, aching shoulder a break. With the back of her hand, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed some hair from her forehead. It would have been great to have some help. At the end of the hall, a girl had a whole team to help her move in. Parents, sister or friend, boyfriend or brother. But Katya didn't have anyone, so she had to take three roundtrips to the parking lot by herself.

With a sigh, she hoisted the bag up again and watched the room numbers climb the further she walked down the hall. The girls in room 410 had their door open, a song from fifteen years ago blasting from a portable speaker on their desks. They must know each other, because both their sides of the room were in coordinating colors. One of them caught Katya's nosy eye and gave her an awkward smile.

411, 412, 413, 414…

The door to room 415 was open. Katya stopped and took one last, deep breath before stepping into the doorway. 

She was right. Her roommate had already decorated her part of the room. Her eye immediately fell on the large rug between the beds. A fluffy, really soft looking beige one that looked very tempting for a nap. It suited the rest of the surprisingly calm decorations. 

White bed sheets with various neutral colored pillows on top, the subtle black and white prints on the wall, the beige colored plant pots, the fairylights that emitted a soft yellow glow, and the beige curtains that Katya also wasn't mad about. The only thing that held some color were the pictures on the corkboard above her headboard.

Whoever this girl was, she had good taste.

Katya dumped her suitcase by the unoccupied bed and threw her duffel bag on top, careful to avoid the rug with her shoes. The knot in her stomach unraveled a little bit. Maybe her worries about her roommate had been invalid. She had definitely been overthinking too much. It even smelled nice in here, like her roommate had lit a vanilla scented candle.

''Oh, you're here!'' A cheerful voice came from behind Katya. ''I went to pick up two muffins from downstairs because I was hungry and I figured you would be too.'' 

Katya turned around… and was met with the most stunning woman she'd ever seen in her entire life. 

The same height as her, lean build, fair skin—but that wasn't what Katya's gaze was drawn to. A pair of full, pink lips framed a beautiful wide smile that reached all the way up to her even more beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her eyelashes were so long they nearly touched her perfectly defined eyebrows, and when she blinked, they brushed over her sharp cheekbones. Her nose wasn't small or pointy, and had a little bump that would make most people self-conscious, but fit her face so well that everyone would be jealous of it anyway.

But somehow, like that wasn't already enough to turn heads, this all paled in comparison to the long, slightly curly hair that fell down her shoulders. It was that kind of bright, deep red that non-redheads tried to achieve but never could. The kind that naturally looked darker in the winter and lit up slightly orange in the summer sun. Everchanging and unique, and part of the reason why Katya's heart was hammering in her chest. 

''I'm Natasha.''

Oh. My. God. 

Katya could not form a single thought. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert in the middle of the summer. She could only stare. Stare at her roommate while she tried to fight off the gay panic that reduced her to a completely useless human being. 

This could not be happening. The girl she had to live with for a year could not be this excruciatingly attractive. Freshman year would be her end. 

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat when she saw that Natasha was waiting for a response, an amused eyebrow quirked up on her forehead. God, she was already making a fool of herself. ''Katya Petrova,'' she said shortly, her smile filled with embarrassment as she accepted the blueberry muffin Natasha kindly got her. Get yourself together, or she's gonna get tired of your weirdness quickly.

It wasn't physically possible, but Natasha's perfect eyes lit up even more. ''Russian?''

''Yeah.''

Her smile turned into a mysterious smirk that sent tingles down Katya's spine. ''Then we're gonna get along just fine,'' she said, and Katya couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of double meaning she was missing. Natasha looked at her like she was a meal, and her nerves intensified.

''Uh, thank you for the muffin,'' she blurted out.

''You're welcome,'' Natasha mused, totally cool as she leaned back against her desk. It was unfair, how she turned Katya into a complete mess while she remained confident and calm. But it was so attractive. Katya shivered as Natasha's green eyes slowly looked her up and down. ''I think I picked right. You look like a blueberry muffin girl.''

An awkward chuckle slipped past Katya's lips. She wanted to get away from that piercing gaze desperately, anything to think clearly again, but it wouldn't let her move. ''What does that mean?''

''I don't know.'' With a smirk—and intense eye contact—Natasha brought her ring finger to her lips and sucked the muffin crumbs off. Casually, she repeated the motion with her other fingers, her entire thumb disappearing in her mouth.

Katya felt her eyes widen, more gay panic flushing her veins until her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Images, ones she would never say out loud, filled her mind. Her lower stomach turned into knots while a blush covered her cheeks. She turned away, pretending to be really busy with unpacking. She swore she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

''I hope you don't mind the rug and the curtains. I took the liberty to decorate.''

''That's okay," Katya answered, having trouble remembering what the curtains even looked like. They were the very last thing on her mind as she rummaged aimlessly through her bag, hoping Natasha didn't notice that she wasn't doing anything.

''Is that all your stuff?''

Katya shook her head, risking a glance over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that Natasha's flirty expression had turned into something more puzzled. ''No, the rest is in my car.''

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Natasha's eyes visibly softened. ''Are you here alone?''

''Yes," Katya answered casually, ignoring the stab in her heart.

It stayed quiet a moment longer than normal, painfully so. These silences were nothing new. She'd started to expect them. On Mother's day, on Father's day, on Christmas, on Thanksgiving, but also moments like these, where she didn't know she would be missing parents until she was in the moment. 

''Does your family live far away?'' Natasha asked carefully.

''Sort of.''

She put her muffin down and uncrossed her arms. ''Let me help you carry the rest up. I can't possibly let you walk back and forth countless times while I take a nap,'' she joked lightheartedly.

''Oh, no, it's okay. Really. You don't have to help me," Katya refused, not in the mood for pity. But Natasha stood up straight and tied her beautiful hair into a perfect messy bun.

''Well, I want to," she said with a tone so definitive that Katya lost all her will to protest. "And I'm not taking no for an answer.'' She looked ready to tackle a big job. Hands on her Lululemon shorts-clad hips, sports shoes on her feet. And those lean arms…they could surely carry a few boxes.

Katya considered it for a moment, and then nodded. It would be nice to have some help. ''Okay then.'' Natasha flashed her a big smile.

Somehow, she faced none of the struggles from before—having to parkour her way through the halls. People seemed to get out of their way for Natasha, driven by some invisible force that must have been her confident aura.

Katya felt entirely unworthy to be walking next to her. They attracted lots of eyes, and the reason they looked at them certainly wasn't her red, sweaty face. Nobody noticed a dull brunette next to a redheaded goddess in gym shorts and a crop top. 

Natasha didn't seem to notice anything. She kept talking to Katya, completely comfortable yapping to someone she'd only met five minutes ago, while Katya tried not to let her gay panic turn into real, uncontrollable panic. She only heard half of what her roommate was saying.

''Hey, Nat!''

They were in the quad, a huge field of grass between the main campus buildings. Today, the main path was lined with stalls full of information and help. If someone couldn't find their dorm or there was another problem, they could visit here. 

A guy, looking older than her, had called Natasha's name from one of the stands, his hand in the air to grab her attention. Katya's first instinct was; football player. He had the build for it.

''Jason!" She smiled, not stopping to talk to him. "How are you?''

He was the fourth guy to greet her like that. Like he knew her. They all looked vastly different—though good-looking—and they all looked older. Some closer to twenty-four than eighteen. It was odd. Where did she know all of them from? Katya was starting to gain suspicions that her roommate may be more well-known around here than she thought.

"So, what's your thing?" Natasha asked suddenly. Katya had been brooding over her roommate's popularity so hard that she didn't realize she'd fallen silent. Or that they were close to the parking lot. 

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What are you here for?" Natasha clarified, smiling when she still saw the confusion on Katya's face. "Law and dance, that's my thing. Studying law, and I'll be trying out for the dance team."

Katya didn't find this surprising at all. Natasha looked like that kind of person who could do it both. Arts and literature. Body and brains. Someone good at absolutely everything. It also explained her subtle muscles and lean figure. Of course, the gorgeous, popular girl was a dancer. What were the chances she was a cheerleader in high school?

"Of course, you are." Katya paled when she realized the words had escaped her.

Natasha smirked amusedly. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Katya said quickly. Her roommate's need to fluster her all the time was starting to get on her nerves. She fiddled with her car keys, smiling nervously. "I'm not as interesting as you, I'm afraid."

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something flirty. "You interest me."

Heat rose on Katya's cheeks once more. She kept getting caught off guard by Natasha's simple yet effective smooth-talking. Everything she said seemed to have some sort of double meaning. Her body could not keep up with its reactions.

"History is my thing. History and literature. But the literature is just a hobby," she said awkwardly, trying to hide her red cheeks. Her studies and hobbies always sounded boring to begin with, but next to Natasha's they looked even worse. Katya grimaced. "I told you it's boring."

"No, it's not!" Natasha rushed to reassure her. "I've always envied people who could quote Hemmingway off the top of their heads. Are you one of those people?"

"Kind of." Katya smiled shyly when she realized that Natasha was being genuine. 

"That's cool." The redhead smiled. "Everyone has their own interests, don't be embarrassed of yours."

Katya wasn't used to the conversation going this way. It was a breath of fresh air. "Most people think it's lame," she said as she popped the trunk of her terribly plain and old Honda Civic.

Natasha shrugged, picking up the first box she saw. "People will always have opinions, so you are better off just doing what you like."

"Can't disagree." Katya smiled at her. Would things finally be different? Would she finally fit in somewhere? The day started off with lots of frustration but now the future looked very hopeful. Maybe she would finally feel at home somewhere.

It took the both of them three trips to get everything upstairs, after which Katya bought Natasha an iced coffee to thank her. She was drinking that as she scrolled on her phone and absentmindedly talked to Katya while Katya unpacked her stuff. 

Everything she had was in these boxes, her whole life. She had no family to store anything with, so all of it had to fit within the four walls of this room. There was some odd stuff in some of these boxes. But Natasha didn't ask her about anything. Overall, she had been nothing but considerate and an amazing roommate.

"This campus is full of disgusting boys."

Katya jumped. She had her back turned to the door, and with the business in the hallway hadn't heard someone stop in their doorway. It was a small blonde with her hands in her pockets. She looked annoyed, bored and disgusted all at the same time, like a moody teenager. Questionably, Katya looked at Natasha.

The woman sighed and put her phone down. "Kat, meet my little sister, Yelena. Yelena, this is Katya, my roommate."

As if she was only now realizing there was another person in the room, the blonde—Yelena—looked at Katya. Then she let out the loudest gasp. "Oh my god, they put you with a nerd." She laughed.

Katya blushed and looked away. That's not the first time she's heard that. In fact, people all throughout her life had taken the liberty of calling her that. It wasn't her looks per se—she didn't wear braces, outdated clothes, or thick-rimmed glasses. She was a normal kid, in normal clothes, with a delicate, modern-looking pair of glasses balancing on her nose. And, if Katya might say so herself, she wasn't ugly.

No, it was the things she did and liked that put a sticker on her. First of all, her introvertness and her shyness. It had gotten a lot better with age. She didn't stutter or stumble over her words as much anymore, but her shy nature stayed. It made that she never quite fit in with anyone. She didn't have big friend groups or hang around the popular kids. She usually had one good friend who she could sit in peaceful silence with.

Then there were the books, the literature, the movies she watched. Katya realized very young that she was different from the other girls in her class. She preferred the works of writers long gone, liked her movies black and white, and would rather spend her Friday afternoon reading than going to parties. They bullied her for having her lunch break in the library, reading alone, for getting an A on every test. Her interest lay with history, not with the latest Hollywood gossip. 

It shouldn't get to her, but in their cores, everyone wanted to belong, to be liked. She couldn't simply turn off her human instinct.

Natasha's hands curled into fists, and it looked like she was going to explode on her sister, until an older woman stepped into the room. Her hair was so dark brown it nearly looked black, and her face held a stern expression. She was also incredibly gorgeous. "Yelena Belova! That is not how I raised you!"

Yelena cringed. "Sorry, Mama," she muttered.

The woman's scowl disappeared as she turned to Katya, a warm, motherly smile appearing on her face instead. "Hello, my dear. I'm Melina, Natasha's mother. Please excuse my rude daughter. I promise I raised them both better than that."

A warm feeling flushed through Katya's body. "It's okay, ma'am. Natasha helped me carry the rest of my stuff up from my car."

"Good girl." Melina smiled proudly at her daughter. Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly not at ease with her family around a stranger. "If you don't need us anymore, Yelena and I will be leaving."

"Yes, please take her out of here." 

Anger flashed across Yelena's face. "I sacrificed my free day for you, you ungrateful—"

"Girls!" Melina sighed, shaking her head. With pity, she looked at Katya. "I wish you luck with her, my dear—"

"What does that mean?" Natasha exclaimed.

"---and be nice to each other. Natasha, if you need me, I'm just a call away."

"And just a town away." She rolled her green eyes again. "No need for emotional goodbyes."

"Well, I am gonna miss you."

"I'm not," Yelena mumbled under her breath, smiling innocently when her mother glared at her.

Natasha sighed and started to walk them out the door. Like a dog herding sheep. Katya tried not to laugh as Melina and Yelena stumbled over each other into the hallway. "Mhm, goodbye now. Thank you for helping me today." Natasha closed the door in their faces, locking it for good measure. A pleasant silence filled the room. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's alright." Katya shrugged, though her brain was still trying to process what just happened. "I'm used to being called a nerd. It's not an insult."

"She meant it as one. She's a dick." Natasha chewed on her lip, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of her sister's behavior. It meant a lot to Katya that it mattered so much to her.

"It's okay, Natasha, really." 

The redhead smiled carefully. "Melina is probably yelling at her now, though."

Katya laughed. "Their faces as you pushed them out the door..."

"If I hadn't, they would still be standing here, arguing." Natasha returned to her bed, falling back into the same position as before they were rudely interrupted. It already felt so domestic, so comfortable. They could exist together and do their own thing without bothering the other.

"Your sister is completely different from you, isn't she?" Katya asked as she continued her unpacking.

"Yes and no. She's more moody, sassy, rude." Katya chuckled when Natasha rolled her eyes. "But she's driven, hard working, and incredibly loyal to the people she loves. She will fight someone for you... Literally… She loves punching people."

Katya laughed. "She sounds like a good sister to have."

"She'll do." Natasha suddenly perked up, like someone flipped the switch of focus in her brain. Smirking, she studied the boxes on Katya's side of the room. "So, in which one of those is your lingerie?"

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

Orientation had broken Katya's brain. She'd gotten so much information at once that she literally had a headache. A bad one. Add that to a bad night of sleep—only four hours in total because of her new surroundings and anxiety—and she was ready to crash.

She unlocked her door and stumbled into the room, not surprised to see it empty. Natasha's shoes were gone and her bed was made. From what Katya learned yesterday, she seemed to know a lot of people, so she was undoubtedly chatting with every person she ran into. Maybe she wouldn't even return until late. At least Katya had her number.

She took advantage of Natasha's absence to take a long shower. Then she drew the curtains closed and laid down for a nap, her headache already subsiding after chugging two glasses of water. Her eyelids were so heavy, sleep tugged on her brain… 

When her phone rang. 

Katya let out the loudest groan, hurting her head in the process. Who dared to interrupt her nap? Ideally, she would have ignored it, but it could be Natasha or somebody else important. Blindly, she felt around until her fingers wrapped around her phone, her eyes squinting against the bright light to read the name on the screen. 

Tony.

Yep, that made sense. That man always had the worst timing. 

"What?" Katya snapped.

"What a way to greet me. Are you busy?" He gasped dramatically, then lowered his voice. "Wait, are you finally getting laid?"

Katya sighed, the tips of her ears burning. Ever since he stopped seeing her as a kid, he was trying to get her laid. Unsuccessfully. "No."

"Then you got time for me. Did you get settled in?" 

"If you were actually here to help me, you would have known," she said accusingly. "But you're too busy slutting yourself out in Miami."

"Going on holidays is important," Tony said casually. Katya rolled her eyes. He wasn't vacationing, he was partying and drinking. Club music boomed in the background of the call. His classes didn't start for another week. "You know what's also important? If your roommate is hot."

Katya groaned, reaching for the curtain to tug it open. She was so glad this was not a FaceTime call, or he would have seen how red her face was. "I'm not entertaining you with an answer."

"So she is." His stupid grin could be heard in his voice. She wanted to slap him. "What's her name?"

Katya hesitated. Whenever she told him about her crushes, Tony would go and mingle. It wouldn't be the first time he scared one away, but if she didn't tell him now, he would show up next week on her doorstep. Even worse. "Natasha," she answered reluctantly. "You wouldn't like her, she's ginger."

"Wait. A Natasha with red hair? Does she have big tits and a great ass?"

As much as Katya wanted to yell at him for objectifying women, she couldn't help but blush. Of course, her gay ass had not been able to resist taking a look at Natasha's body. Subtly and respectfully, of course. Her thoughts had not been subtle or respectful though, but they were safely inside her head so it was okay. She wasn't that kind of person.

"She looks great, yes."

Exactly at that moment, Natasha freaking Romanoff herself burst through the door, looking incredible as always. Denim shorts, tank top, messy ponytail—Katya's heart skipped a beat. Nobody should look that good after a full day of walking around in the late summer heat. God, she was a mess for her. 

"Who looks great?" Natasha smirked, dropping her bag to the ground. "Some girl at orientation already grabbed your attention?"

"Uh—I…no. There's nobody," Katya stammered, watching wide-eyed as Natasha took the hair tie out her hair and shook all those gorgeous curls loose. Her biceps flexed subtly when she fluffed it up.

"Uhu. Better give me a chance too before you set your sights on someone," Natasha teased.

Katya's breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? "Y-You?"

"Yeah. Unless you're not into girls." Natasha smiled smugly when she glanced at Katya's stunned expression. "I thought so. Me too."

If this were a cartoon, Katya's eyeballs would have bulged out of her head. Surely, she was dreaming now. There was no way this was reality. "You're gay?"

Natasha shrugged, grabbing a towel from the cabinet. "I'm a little bit of everything. As long as it's hot and kissable, I'm kissing it." She smirked, and then she closed the bathroom door behind her like she hadn't just turned Katya's whole world upside down.

There was an error in her brain. Her brain had flatlined. Open-mouthed, Katya stared at the door her roommate had disappeared through. She was sweating. Did Natasha seriously just say that she is into girls and she wants a shot with her? Was her headache actually a stroke and was she hallucinating? 

"Shut the fuck up. Your roommate is Natasha Romanoff?" 

Katya jumped. She'd completely forgotten that she was on the phone with Tony, and that he just heard everything. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

He sighed. "You're hopeless. You need to get out more. She has a reputation for crashing college parties since she was 15. She's basically a legend."

It all made sense now. The guys who knew her, her popularity, why she knew her way around campus so well. She cuddled up with college guys while she was still in high school. 

How in the world did Katya, a nerd, get matched up with someone like what? Some funny forces were at play here. Someone up there must be laughing very hard.

"Okay, bye now." She just caught the start of Tony's protests when she cut off the call. She loved him, but she needed a moment to process these developments, and his endless yapping in her ear did not let her think clearly. 

He came into her life at a time where she needed someone the most. Orphaned since birth, Katya grew up in orphanages across the country. The last one she lived in, from age thirteen to literally last week, she met him. He'd protected her on the first day, when some older guys bullied her, and from there, he'd become her big brother. She saw him as that, too; family. Did he know Natasha personally?

Katya panicked when the shower turned off in the other room. Like, had a full-on silent panic attack. Not enough time had passed to process anything or to calm down. She couldn't face Natasha again. Not yet. What if she continued the conversation where it left off?

Quickly, she dived for her laptop and headphones, and put on the first TV show she could find. When Natasha came out of the bathroom, she didn't even spare her a glance. It was possibly the best performance of her life, pretending she was interested in her show and her heart wasn't pounding in her ears.

But Katya looked at her from the corner of her eye whenever she could, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Natasha seemed to be getting ready for something. She did her makeup and spent at least ten minutes in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Katya's eyes widened when she came out of the bathroom in a short, tight party dress later. There were curves and skin everywhere.

Frowning, Katya slid her headphones off. "Are you going somewhere?"

Natasha smiled over her shoulder, slipping her earrings in. Her eyes looked incredibly bright with the dark eyeshadow around it. Mesmerizing. "There's a welcome-back party in the Kappa Delta Psi house." 

"Aren't those for older students?"

Amusement flickered across the redhead's face. "I have a fake ID." She grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed and slipped those on too. They made her toned legs look incredible, miles long. Katya tried not to drool. "You should come."

Katya quickly shook her head, her anxiety surging at the thought of a college party. "Oh, no, thank you. Parties are not really my thing."

Natasha chuckled, a beautiful sound that sent the butterflies in Katya's stomach into a frenzy. "Alright. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." She swung her small purse over her shoulder and set out for the door. Her beautiful hair swung left and right over her exposed back, her pale skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked ethereal. Katya called her name before she decided to.

"Nat?"

With her hand hovering above the doorknob, Natasha looked back. "Yes?"

Katya wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful. That her hair was amazing, that her makeup was flawless, that the dress fit her perfectly. That she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But the moment she opened her mouth, she chickened out. "Have fun."

A bright smile curled on her dark red lips. "Thanks."

[sansaorgana]

— CHRYSALIS (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Vala/half-Elf!Reader (Morgoth's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Mairon is scheming to take over the armies of Morgoth. With his old master's daughter by his side he considers his claims to be legitimised, although he has to admit that her mood swings scare him sometimes. Well, one thing is certain – his wife keeps him on his toes. And their enemies are many, even amongst their own Lieutenants.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's been some time since part one but I needed a short break and I'm not going to lie but I have been distracted... Those of you who follow me, know already that I have a massive crush on Jack Lowden now... 🤣 It is honestly funny to me because I've known about this guy for years (he was even in one of my favourite TV shows ever aka War & Peace) but it was this one scene of the loser Sauron that pushed me into having a crush??? Seriously?! Anyway, yeah... I've been watching movies with him and at the moment I am in the middle of Slow Horses. Just saying because I have a feeling it is going to end up with a fanfic... 💀 Big shoutout and thanks to @olchr-1 because their comments under my fics about Mairon and Morgoth always inspire me! 💚

WARNINGS — toxic relationship (they're mutually toxic to each other), mentions of Morgoth's abuse towards Sauron, Reader is kinda unhinged (she is Morgoth's daughter, ok? what did you expect?), murder (as in – she murders [an Orc] AND she gets murdered), she's some sort of a ghost in the end (idk if it's a trigger but I'm writing it down in case it is...)

WORD COUNT — 6,140

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

CHRYSALIS (II)

“I do. I can see inside your mind.”

Mairon felt a shiver travelling down his spine at those words. (Y/N) had a sweet smile on her face but it still felt somehow sinister and embarrassing after realising she could have felt all his scheming regarding her.

“Do not be scared!” She whined and giggled as she brushed his ginger hair to put it behind his pointy ear. “I like you the way you are.”

Mairon cracked a smile at her and put his hands on her waist to pull her closer and join their lips together. The kiss started softly but it quickly turned into a heated one. (Y/N) moaned into his mouth and he groaned, pushing aside all the things on the table behind her to pick her up and sit her up on top of it.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and he could hear her heartbeat fastening as his shaky hands travelled to her back where he started to tug onto the lacing of her gown.

But at that, (Y/N) flinched and Mairon broke the kiss, taking a step back and looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She refused to meet his gaze and looked over his shoulder at the still unfinished item behind him.

“I think you still have work to finish, my husband,” she pointed out sweetly and how could he ever be angry at her when she addressed him so beautifully?

Mairon nodded at her and leaned in to steal one more kiss from her but this time it was only a peck on the lips.

He walked away from her to go back to reforging her father’s crown to fit him and she took off her leather apron and folded it neatly before putting it on the desk and leaving the forge without a word.

Mairon wondered quietly what was the reason for her sudden shyness when it came to being physical. How much had she witnessed about her parents’ relationship? And what had it been like?

Or perhaps (Y/N) was simply shy because she had been sheltered for her whole life.

Either way, she had agreed to share her life with him and that was enough for him. To have her close, to show her off as his – Melkor’s daughter, the heiress of darkness. She had chosen him – Mairon – to be her husband. There was no better legitimation for his coronation than this.

He finished his work and the sun was slowly setting in the sky although it was barely visible in their land of snow and cold either way. Mairon took off his apron and fixed his hair before taking the newly reforged crown and taking it to his chambers because he would never leave it unsupervised. Proud of his creation, he walked past (Y/N)’s chambers but he did not bother to check on her. She clearly needed her space now and he decided to give it to her.

After entering his chambers, though, Mairon froze at the sight of (Y/N) laying in his bed and smiling at him gently. She was wearing nothing but a beautiful nightgown made out of a sheer fabric that left very little to his imagination. Mairon swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight.

“I… I have finished,” he told her and placed the crown on top of a dresser, scared of her opinion as he usually was when it came to his craft.

“I can see. It is beautiful, you are very talented with your hands, my Sauron,” she whispered, surprisingly sweet, and Mairon smiled nervously at the praise before turning around to face her.

“Where did you get a nightgown like this?” He asked. After all, all her clothes had been gifts from him and he would never dare to give her such a thing before.

“So… You like it?” She giggled and Mairon’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea how much he did. Or maybe she did – after all, she could get inside his head. “I know you do, my husband,” she sighed, “but I would like you to say it.”

“I… I do,” Mairon nodded and cleared his throat before sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully reaching his hand out to caress her cheek. “I like it. Very much,” he assured her. 

Oh, how the tables turned. Who was shy now?

When Mairon’s hand lowered and briefly touched (Y/N)’s nightgown, it suddenly disappeared completely, dissolved into air and there she was, naked for him. He looked into her eyes and she chuckled.

“So, it worked,” she whispered, proud of herself. “I learnt from you how to do it,” she confessed and sat up to cling to him and join their lips together in a kiss but this time it was him who was mostly sitting there, petrified to witness her being like that. “I’m sorry, am I doing something wrong?” (Y/N) furrowed her brow and moved away a little, shyly, visibly feeling embarrassed of herself.

And when she was like this, he felt way more confident. Mairon straightened his back and shook his head gently.

“No, my love, not at all. It’s just that I…” He took a deep breath in.

“That you’re a Maia, you were born to serve and not to experience such carnal desires,” she nodded and he closed his mouth. “And yet you do and you are confused but I know the answer.”

“You do?” Mairon inquired.

“I need you,” she breathed out and once more she moved closer to him to kiss the corner of his mouth as her hands caressed his neck with her fingertips. “And you love me. You serve me, Sauron. Therefore, when I need you, your flesh answers to my calling.”

And now it was him flinching at her words and she moved back once more, looking at him with confusion written all over her terrifyingly beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, I…” He fixed his hair with trembling hands as he looked away.

How could he tell her that when she was like this she reminded him of her father and it was not in the way he wanted to remember him? How could he tell her that it nearly scared him and it surely was not helping his desire? 

Melkor had reforged him the same way Mairon reforged his crown – his old self had been melted and twisted in the most wicked ways. But admitting it to her now would be humiliating.

When she was a shy, innocent maiden – he felt confident enough to give in to his desires and to devour her. But when she was showing confidence and was becoming needy herself – greedy for him and his service like his master once had been… He was simply shutting down.

“I would never hurt you, Sauron,” she whispered and he turned his head around to look at her, a little frustrated with the fact that she had been inside his head again – especially at a moment like that. “I would never hurt you first, that is,” she added. “And you have no reason to be embarrassed in front of me. I am your wife and your Queen,” she added.

“I want to be worthy of you but I do not think I ever will be…” He confessed, finally voicing out the fear he had been having for centuries now – from the moment he had seen her for the first time.

“Oh, but my sweet Sauron, do you not know…?” (Y/N) chuckled lovingly and moved closer to him once more but very slowly and carefully this time. She cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning in to rub her nose with his. “I know you will never be and I still like you,” she smiled, probably thinking her words cheered him up but they only broke his heart.

Because what was her love then? Did she love him because he was a good pet? The most loyal servant? Was her love as wicked as her father’s?

“I am my mother’s daughter, too,” she reminded him and kissed his forehead. “I can be sweet and gentle with you, kiss every part of your flesh, every part my father hurt and twisted… Let me heal it,” she breathed out.

He would certainly let her try.

The fortress was the most quiet during the day because the Orcs mostly slept at that time. Mairon and (Y/N) laid in his bed for hours now, facing each other with their limbs tangled and noses brushing as they exchanged sweet kisses and her fingers caressed his hair.

“You are the most extraordinary creature I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed out.

“I know,” she smirked. “When will we leave here? I want to see the world,” her eyes sparkled.

“Do you really want to see it or perhaps you can’t wait for the world to fall on its knees at the sight of you?” Mairon wondered teasingly and she chuckled.

“I am aware the realms you will take me to are far from perfect but I will shape them to fit my will and vision,” she said. “And for that, they will build me altars.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then you will certainly make sure they do,” she smirked sweetly but her eyes filled with mischief.

Mairon moved his head up slightly to kiss her on the mouth instead of making a promise with his words. Then, he laid down on the pillow and sighed at the sight of the reforged crown of Morgoth on top of his dresser.

“I will forge you a crown, too. I have an idea for its design already,” he promised. “And then, we will coronate ourselves and marshal our legions out of here.”

“I am shutting myself out of your mind then,” (Y/N) giggled. “I want the design to be a surprise,” she explained and kissed his cheek.

He couldn’t help the feeling that he indeed was her pet but perhaps she would be a much kinder owner than her father had been.

Tasarë woke up and leaned on the barren, dry tree as she sighed at the sight of the huge fortress in the horizon. They would arrive there in the afternoon on that day but she had not seen it last night due to the darkness. Now, in the hazy morning she was able to see what was awaiting her – the dreadful place and even more dreadful master within its walls. 

“Why me?” She asked Mairon while he was watching her with a mix of pity and relief that his task would be done soon.

“He saw you in my memories,” he confessed. She deserved to know the truth now, at the very end of their road together.

“You were that huge werewolf watching me in the forest,” Tasarë chuckled and shook her head. “I sensed your eyes on me.”

“And that was your demise. You know what they say – curiosity killed the cat,” Mairon crossed his arms and stood by her side, looking at the fortress ahead of them with pride.

“Why were you staring at me?” Tasarë inquired and Mairon shrugged his arms. He truly did not know.

“Something drew me in. Perhaps it was your fate,” he explained cruelly.

Cruelly, because what could this young and innocent maiden possibly have done to deserve such punishment?

“Please,” she took off her humble ring with a ruby stone on it, “take it,” she offered it to him as her eyes filled with tears.

“What is the meaning behind this gesture?” Mairon raised his eyebrows, a little mockingly staring at the ring in her trembling hand.

“I want you to keep it, a memory of me,” she explained. “A memory of who I am now, before your master bends me to his will,” she added and Mairon swallowed thickly at her words. “Please,” she begged and he finally took the ring from her hand and caressed it with his fingers.

“Why are you giving this to me? It was me who brought this down upon you and it was me delivering you to him,” Mairon asked, confused.

“Who am I supposed to give it to?” She asked and laughed through the tears as she looked around. No one else was there. Then, her face became serious again. “I can still feel the light of Valinor deep within you,” she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible and a shiver went down his spine at her words. “You are a Maia. An emissary of the Valar.”

“I serve only one of them,” he explained.

“Whatever. You just do what you were made for – you serve,” she nodded and turned her head around, leaving his head a mess.

Her words were an explanation why she couldn’t hate him completely. But they also were an insulting reminder that he was nothing compared to his master – he was replaceable and meaningless.

“We should go,” he muttered and hid the ring inside one of his pockets.

Mairon played with Tasarë’s ring between his fingers for one last time before breaking it apart in his forge to extract the red ruby stone and put it in (Y/N)’s crown. Made of her father’s iron and decorated with her mother’s stone, it was pretty humble and smaller than Mairon’s but he made sure it looked as intimidating as his own.

He did not mean to insult his wife with its design – quite the contrary. Her power was of the raw kind and she did not need any further decorations. Unlike him, humbly Maia who was constantly trying to hide the fact he still felt like a nobody. And he knew he would not have to explain it to her because she would know – she could read his mind, after all.

When the crown was forged, he took it carefully into his hands and carried it back to the chambers he was sharing now with her. (Y/N) was standing by the window and staring outside, sighing at the only sight she had ever known – endless snow and cold.

“When will we leave here, Sauron?” She asked with a whine.

“Soon, my darling. Very soon. Look what I have for you,” she smiled gently and could feel his cheeks burning.

This, so far, was the most significant gift he had ever given her. Perhaps even while proposing to her he had not been so nervous.

She turned around and he held his breath, waiting for her opinion and he knew that she was a cruel judge of his presents and craft.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she froze for a moment before approaching him to take a better look.

“It surely holds lots of power,” she nodded as her fingertips caressed the ruby of the crown. She smiled to herself, sensing her mother as she looked at her husband’s face, finding his eyes. She searched his mind to look for the explanation and then she nodded at him. “Did you love my mother?” She asked, suddenly.

Mairon’s heart skipped a beat.

“She was not mine to love,” he only answered.

“And I am?” (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled cruelly. She could have promised him hundreds of times she would never hurt him but sometimes her father’s nature would overtake her in those little moments, keeping him on his toes. He did not believe her promises at all.

In fact, he was quite scared of his own wife. But that was the price he had to pay for binding himself to such a powerful creature just to be able to bask in her light and to use her power to increase his own influence.

“I understand that you do not like the crown,” he admitted his defeat, looking down.

“On the contrary. It is splendid. Your finest work so far, husband,” she explained and took the item gently from his hands as he laid his eyes on her once more – his needy, yearning gaze, desperate for her praise. “It is simple and humble and yet so powerful, detailed and exquisite. It takes real talent of the greatest craftsman to forge such a beauty,” she admitted and put it onto her head before turning around to look at herself in the mirror. She was smiling and Mairon took a deep breath out of relief.

“I shall inform Adar to gather his armies for our coronation,” Mairon bowed his head slightly.

“Do we need an official coronation? In front of these… creatures?” (Y/N) winced. “We can do whatever we want, can we not?”

“Yes, of course we can,” Mairon cleared his throat. What he really meant was that she could do whatever she wanted. But even that was not entirely true because her lack of experience would soon overshadow her natural inheritance. “It will just send a message to all the right people and look more significant in their eyes if we go through with the whole ceremony.”

“We did not have any ceremony for our wedding,” she pointed out. “You truly show your priorities now, dear husband.”

“Marriage is a sacred and intimate union, I do not care for the audience when it comes to it. My love and devotion are only for you to see,” he answered.

“I understand,” she nodded and turned her head around to look directly into his eyes instead of reading his face from the mirror’s reflection. “But on the next day after our coronation we are leaving this place. And we are never coming back here.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Mairon nodded.

“In fact, I have a perfect usage for the North,” she shrugged her arms and looked back into the mirror to adjust the crown on her head and admire herself.

“And that is…?” Mairon furrowed his brows, a little scared of her answer.

“It will be a perfect prison for our enemies, it is going to be where we will send those who refuse to follow us,” she smiled.

“Why would we not simply kill them?” Mairon wondered out loud. That seemed like a waste of resources.

“And where is the fun in that?” She huffed, reminding him of her father once more.

And then, she reminded him of Melkor even more because she added the line his old master had often been repeating:

“You are too stiff. One of the best things about holding power is that we set the rules and we can make them as enjoyable as we wish.”

They completed each other. His robes were red and heavily decorated with golden elements and details such as chains and embroidered words in black speech. Her robes were the same, only golden with red thread and red decorations. Together they presented themselves very regal but it was very clear which one of them held more power even though she was standing behind him with her hands clasped behind her back.

(Y/N) could feel Adar’s eyes on her, eyeing her up and down constantly but as much as she tried to get inside his mind, he was pushing her away. It was nearly embarrassing that she could not get through but there were things her husband did not know of – for example that her power was not as vast as he thought. 

With proper training, perhaps one day she could live up to the image he had of her inside his mind but the real reason why she could search through him so easily was because she shared a special bond with Mairon. Her father had left the door open within his servant’s broken and twisted mind and it was easy for her to sneak in now, especially when he was not really fighting her abilities back – trained like a good dog by Melkor to obey such infiltrating requests and just allow it to happen.

Adar was shaped by Melkor, too, but he was different. He held no love in his heart for his former master. And… simply – nearly embarrassingly simply – (Y/N) did not love him.

But she loved Mairon and he loved her. That was making the whole deal of reading his mind much easier.

She could only guess what Adar was thinking but she could sense some odd mix of pity and resentment upon his face whenever he looked at her. 

When the right time came, he nodded at her and she took a step ahead to touch her husband’s arm and squeeze it. He turned his head to glance at her with a soft smile.

“We can start now,” she whispered and he nodded.

“Are you sure you do not want to do this with me?” He asked.

“No, better not… I am not yet prepared to give speeches,” she took a few steps back again to hide a little in the shadows, as if it was possible while wearing such robes.

Mairon licked his lips and took a deep breath in before addressing the filthy creatures staring at him with widened eyes, curiously waiting for his words.

He nearly felt embarrassed that they were the army he was offering to his wife. She deserved real, powerful battalions. And she would have them very soon once they’d conquer more lands.

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again,” he began, watching two Orcs carrying two crowns on black, velvet cushions. Once more, he winced a little at the realisation how humiliating it had to be for his wife to have her crown being carried to her by such a filthy creature. “Morgoth is gone,” he continued, “leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and fidgeted with his fingers, nervously. “Under me and my wife. Your new masters. Sauron and Lady (Y/N),” he introduced the woman the Orcs were the most curious about as he reached out his arm and she sighed, taking it and walking up to him to show herself although she had just asked him not to put her on display.

“What they say is true. My wife is a daughter of Morgoth,” Mairon announced, proudly and with a big grin on his face.

“And my husband – his most faithful and powerful Lieutenant,” (Y/N) announced, trying to legitimise his claims in the eyes of their army.

Perhaps she deserved it all more than him but the truth was that without his support she would not go far. He was far more experienced than her and he had been taking part in real battles for her father. 

“And with a new age, we bring you a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest,” Mairon promised, addressing the Orcs but squeezing his wife’s hand and she squeezed his back, sensing his nervousness. “For we seek a new kind of power,” he let go of her hand and raised his own as he spoke as if he was giving them all a lesson. (Y/N) clasped her hands on her abdomen, nearly humbly, but she remained right by his side this time without retreating to the shadows. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will,” Mairon explained.

The Orcs looked at each other and hummed to themselves, quite satisfied with such a promise. (Y/N) cracked a smile at her husband and he smiled back but his face went very serious again.

“Many Orcs will die,” he added and the atmosphere inside the room shifted immediately as the Orcs changed their humming into growling.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon tried to show some excitement while explaining his plan to the Orcs, hoping they would share his enthusiasm. After all, they were not very intelligent beings. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but the Orcs were not calmed down at all.

Malicious whispers in Black Speech echoed through the room – “Sauron lies”.

(Y/N) moved uncomfortably and glanced at her husband but he was too embarrassed to lay his eyes upon her as well. He was slowly starting to feel humiliated and to be humbled in front of her was nearly as dreadful as death. He was desperate to prove his worth to her, to make her see that he was truly a worthy successor of her father. But whatever he was proving now was the fact he was nothing but still his pathetic servant. A shadow of Melkor.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he continued but his voice slightly trembled out of nervousness and he clasped his hands in the same manner as his wife had clasped hers. However, he managed to lower his voice once more and make it sound dark again. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

The Orcs’ growling did not stop. In fact it had gotten worse.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” Mairon ignored their unhappy reaction as he went on.

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) spotted one of the Orcs standing nearby – chosen to be one of their personal guards – shifting slightly and she spotted a dagger in his hands.

“Watch out!” She gasped at her husband and took a step back, watching him turn around quite elegantly and slitting the Orc’s throat swiftly in self-defence.

The audience went completely quiet and (Y/N) blinked a few times at the sight. She had never witnessed her husband like that and if he cared so much about proving his worth – perhaps at this very moment he just had.

The Orc fell down to his knees, choking on his own blood. (Y/N) approached Mairon, feeling Adar’s intense gaze on her back. Her husband pulled the Orc even closer to himself and watched the life leaving his victim with fascination and resentment. (Y/N) tilted her head and watched, too.

And after a while, she reached for her own dagger and finished the assassin off with a few systematic and rough thrusts. After the last one, the Orc’s body fell down lifeless and bleeding. (Y/N) looked up into her husband’s eyes. She could sense he was surprised and impressed but he chose not to show it.

Mairon turned around to run his hands through his ginger hair that had gotten ruffled in the fight. He wanted to always present himself neatly in front of his followers, therefore he smoothed them in a nonchalant manner that also betrayed his nervousness.

(Y/N) did not bother to fix anything about her appearance while she hid her blade away without even wiping it. Her anger rose as she looked at the filthy army of the Orcs below them.

“We are your only future and our path is your only path!” She yelled at them, feeling her face swelling up with thick, black blood she inherited from her father’s cursed flesh he had been bound to. Another long silence occurred at her outburst and she felt herself calming down a little at the sight of the Orcs tilting their heads. Perhaps only now they had truly realised whose daughter she really was and that it was not wise to raise her anger. “Who among you dare say otherwise?” She asked, calmly.

No one dared to say anything, therefore she stood by Adar’s side and he took Mairon’s crown from one of the velvet cushions. Her husband was supposed to be crowned first and she cracked a smile at him once he was kneeling down, presenting himself nearly humbly as he waited for Morgoth’s reforged crown to be put onto his head.

The Orcs were growling and snarling when Adar raised the crown to show it to them but now, when (Y/N) had tasted their blood, she was not afraid to taste more. She would fight each one of them if she had to. It was her right. Her father had created them and they had no right to question her or her husband.

She had chosen Mairon to be her companion. Perhaps he had been manipulating her into this choice but, in the end, it had been entirely her decision to choose him despite everything. The only person in the whole world who had any right to question him was she. Nobody else.

She was about to become the Queen of Middle-earth and only the Queen could question her King Consort. The one she had chosen for herself.

She got a little dreamy thinking all these thoughts and spotted Mairon looking up to meet her gaze. He was so uncertain at the moment, so humiliated and so humble… Her heart clenched inside her chest as she sent him an encouraging and loving smile. It visibly soothed him and he looked down once more.

Perhaps he would never be truly worthy of her but still – out of all the men in Middle-earth – he was the most worthy one.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron and Lady (Y/N)!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord and The Dark Queen.”

A shiver of anticipation travelled down her body. Perhaps her husband would never be truly worthy of her but the truth was – she would not have been there if it was not for him. He made it all possible. He was the one to take her back from her father’s cold realm created to protect her. Because, genuinely, she was not sure if she had been able to get out of there alone.

She owed him everything just like he owed everything to her.

“All hail!” The Orcs chanted hesitantly and Adar walked up to Mairon.

(Y/N) watched Adar carefully – something was not right about him, something was very off-putting and very worrying. She furrowed her brows and then she realised what he was about to do after raising the crown up and turning it around in a swift movement, directing the iron spikes at Mairon.

“No!” She yelled and jumped into the front but a sharp pain in the abdomen stopped her from continuing.

“No!” It was Mairon’s turn to scream now as she looked down and saw the spikes of her father’s crown buried deep into her stomach. She raised her eyes and furrowed her brows at Adar – her assassin. There was satisfaction written all over his face.

“I pitied you… But you are just like him,” he whispered before taking the spikes out of her body and turning around to attack Mairon with them now. (Y/N) reached her hands out weakly but she fell to her knees and grabbed her hurt stomach.

She should not die easily – after all she was half a Vala. But she was also half an Elf and the Vala who was her father had been bound to his flesh. Therefore, an item so powerful was able to defeat her – or at least to destroy her flesh.

She choked at the blurred sight of her husband being pierced through with Morgoth’s crown and then a bunch of Orcs came at him. He was trying to fight them back bravely and get to her, shouting her name but it was all for nothing. There were too many of the Orcs keeping them apart and tearing him to pieces.

(Y/N) sobbed and Adar crouched down next to her, holding her chin up so her dying eyes could still see her husband’s torment.

“The legacy of your father is gone now,” Adar whispered right before she lost consciousness.

When (Y/N) came back to reality, she felt her own presence but there was no shape nor flesh around it. She existed as a spirit and she found herself inside the very same hall she had been slain in but it was empty now. There were dark shadows where her body and her husband’s body had laid in the puddles of thick, black blood as anger filled her whole presence at the memory of betrayal.

She felt the cold wind coming inside through the doors and she was on her way outside, already trying to come up with what her next flesh would look like. She had lost the one she was given by birth – the one which actually looked like a mix of her mother and the body her father had been bound to. But now she would forge a new flesh for herself and she had to admit that was quite exciting. Perhaps without pointy ears this time – to blend in with the crowd.

Her plan was to leave the North and to go South. To join the humans and the Elves and all the other creatures living there – to meet them, to see how they lived, to learn their patterns and about the world she was supposed to rule one day.

Finally she would leave the land of the endless snow. Where once her father and then her husband had kept her as if she was their prisoner.

But as she moved closer and closer to the door, she felt a tugging presence within the walls of the abandoned fortress. Sauron.

He was still alive somehow – in a way – just like she was but much weaker and not as aware of his own self as she was. It was no surprise, after all he was only a Maia.

And if she left him now, perhaps he would never survive on his own.

(Y/N) froze right in front of the doors leading outside. She wanted to go, she really did. She had craved to see the world ever since she had been a little girl…

But she could not leave him. She could not leave Sauron. Her husband. 

She remembered his nervous smile, his fidgeting fingers, his ginger hair, his blushing cheeks. How he would steal delicate kisses from her, how they would lay in each other’s arms under the covers and whisper sweet things. How his eyelashes would brush the skin of her cheeks in the most intimate moments.

She could not leave him. He needed her.

Even though she was not sure if he would do the same thing for her.

And just like that, she retreated and went down to the dark, cold and damp corridors under the fortress. And even though she was capable of forging herself a new flesh much quicker than he was, she delayed it because she allowed his weak and pathetic form to feed off of her energy to keep him strong and alive. She was giving herself away to him – piece by piece, which was slowing down her own progress of forging new body but it was increasing the speed of his. And she nearly felt chained with her own devotion instead of the real chains – just like her mother remained chained to her father in some foreign realm where Melkor was being punished.

“You can heal, too,” Mairon assured (Y/N) and reached out to help the dying butterfly. “Look,” he focused on giving away some of his energy to make the butterfly regain its strength and the young woman’s eyes sparkled as she laughed.

“You fed him with your own spirit,” (Y/N) noticed. “Why do you think I would let any parasite feed off of me? Who would be ever worthy of sharing my power?” She asked and Mairon’s mouth opened slightly.

This conversation had taken place when they had first met. Apparently, she found out the answer to her question – who would ever be worthy of sharing her power? He was.

(Y/N) was half-Elf and Elves were mortal creatures in a way they could be slain or fatally injured. When Adar had killed her, he had killed the elven part of her. The light was gone from her body now and it was no longer a question of whether she would tilt into the light or the darkness. Oh, no… The decision was made.

“Once we get out of here, once we forge ourselves new flesh, my darling,” she cooed to the black, slimy creature that remained all left of her husband at the moment, “we will have our revenge. And do not even try to stop me from destroying anything or anyone,” she threatened as the black, weakly breathing substance whined. “You are right, my sweet, the world needs to be healed. But it is far too rotten. We have to start over. We have to rebuild it once more, from the ashes of the current one. The Dark Queen and her Dark Lord.”

She had been nothing but a chrysalis so far but – soon – she would bloom into a beautifully terrifying butterfly.

Into her father’s daughter.

MASTERLIST

[yxtubers]

𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: an innocent kiss in the kitchen which makes your heart race

warnings/notes: kissing, that’s about it

requested?: yes! number 1 “hugging and A absentmindedly kissing B’s neck” from my actions prompt list

> > >

Matt was over at your place today. He claimed he needed a break from Nick and Chris.

“I want to spend time with just you,” he had said.

He loved his brothers, but he also loved having you to himself occasionally. So now he stood in between your legs as you were perched on top of your kitchen counter, a movie mindlessly playing on your TV in the background.

He was watching you make yourself a cup of tea, eyes drifting to look at you as you waited for the water to boil.

Matt always thought you looked beautiful when you were in your comfy clothes. Something about seeing you engulfed in his sweater and a loose pair of sweats set his heart ablaze.

He fiddled with the neck of your - or his - jumper, adjusting it slightly as it was tucked inside of itself. Setting his hand down onto the counter to rest at your sides, he kissed the space on your neck absentmindedly.

Your breathing hitched slightly at the act. Somehow he still found ways to make you giddy and flustered, even after all this time.

“What?” he asked, amused by the heat rising to your cheeks.

You shook your head, giggling. “Nothing.”

“You liked that?” he teased. He just wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Shut up!” you said as you lightly shoved his shoulder before covering your face up with your hands.

Sometimes you hated how much he could make you blush with the smallest of actions. You also loved it. No one could make you feel the way he did, and he knew it.

“Oh come on, I think it’s cute that you’re getting all embarrassed,” he said as he took your hands away to look at your face.

“Don’t hide that pretty face,” he added as he intertwined your fingers together.

He was killing you right now.

“Maattt,” you whined, looking away.

He laughed at your flushed state, noticing how you were looking down at the counter instead of at him.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”

You hesitantly looked back at him, only to be met by him staring at you with the most adorable eyes. You couldn’t stay mad at that face. The adoring look that he had in his eyes would’ve made your knees buckle had you not been sitting down.

Matt’s hands moved up to your waist and encircled behind your back, moving you closer to him.

“How about an apology kiss?” he asked rhetorically.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes with your fingertips, you leaned forward to meet his lips.

His arms hugged you impossibly closer, your chests meeting in the middle. He always found a way to get you near him. You were just so intoxicating to him.

Hands burying into his hair, you deepened the kiss. He gently sighed into your mouth, molding his lips perfectly against yours. Suddenly you realized that you could die happy like this.

The boiling water was almost forgotten as you pulled away, Matt’s eyes still closed as you checked your tea cup.

“I need to finish my tea,” you stated, catching your breath.

He wasn’t having any of it, though. His lips chased yours once again, holding your cheek in one of his hands as he rubbed his thumb over it.

“The tea can wait,” he mumbled against your now warm lips.

“Mhm and you can’t?” you laughed back.

He looked you in the eyes, shaking his head with a dopey smile on his face. If there was anything Matt was good at, it was convincing you to forget about anything else you were doing in the moment.

Giving one last peck to his lips, you continued making your tea. His hands were now on your thighs, rubbing small circles into the fabric as he watched you.

Leaning his forehead on your shoulder, he waited for you to finish making your drink.

“Can I get a reward kiss for being so patient?”

You laughed yet again. He tended to be clingy, but today he was exceptionally affectionate.

“Matt, that was less than 2 minutes.”

“2 minutes too long,” he said as he watched you pick your tea up and jump off the countertop.

Taking your hand in his, he lead you to the couch to finish the half-forgotten movie.

- - -

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@stxrniqlo

[lucysarah-c]

Not in season? Pt. 2

Summary: Winter had settled in, and the scouts were busy training and preparing for the prospects of spring, still far away, to retake Wall Maria. Despite the snow accumulating outside, the building was freezing cold, and the world had secluded itself until the temperature rose. So, why was Captain Levi boiling in his own body? Something felt off, but his mind was quickly slipping into insanity as he tried to find a rational explanation.

Part 1!! Author note:: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. I'm self-conscious about my smut, so… practice makes perfect. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Levi Ackerman, Top Levi Ackerman, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Knotting, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, Breeding, Forced breeding, Biting, Breeding Kink, dubcon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Nurse reader, Alpha Levi x Omega reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Captain Levi x Nurse Reader, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Alpha Hange Zoë, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Erwin Smith, Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha Jean Kirstein, Alpha Mikasa Ackerman. Omegaverse. Word count: 10.8k You had been warned lmao

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf @levisbrat25 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @fxnnyackerman @trashblackrainbow @secretmoneybearvoid @b4rb3qu3 @vickybeexd @mindfulsreposts @blueeclipsepaperstudent @vegetasgirl2799 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Time—time was needed, whether it be a refreshing shower or a bucket of snow from outside the building thrown at him. Anything that could pull any part of his consciousness back to work. As her lips moved and the sounds of her mouth echoed softly, his mind wondered if she was truly awake or if it was unconscious spasms. He sat on the mattress, eyes fixed on her features, waiting, expecting anything. 

Carefully and delicately, he crawled out of bed, like a mother leaving a baby in a room without waking it up. When his feet touched the floor, he almost tripped on something. His eyes surveyed the mess, and he fought every inch of his body not to go on a cleaning rampage. The only reason stopping him? She moved, flexing one leg up for more comfort, and he swore he didn’t mean to stare. His attention moving on its own over her body, focusing on the mating mark—his mating mark—most impressively, his own release between her legs. 

Pulsations in his head, frowning as the pain appeared. That was the reason stopping him from tidying up the room, each breath triggering demands like “one more” and “just one more... to be sure.” He needed to scratch every skin cell with bleach if necessary, with the coldest water and the sharpest brush. Her scent, the aphrodisiac almost cloying aroma her body expelled, clouded his judgment. He picked up the crumpled sheets at the edge of the bed to gently cover her frame. 

So that was exactly what he did—locked the door, turned on the rushing water without waiting for it to warm up, and jumped straight in. Regrets filled his mind; he had never behaved this way before. Alphas unable to control themselves, using heats or ruts as excuses, were something he despised. Perhaps even more than he hated MPs. The consequences were obvious; he had claimed her. Between Alphas and Omegas, a claiming mark was more powerful than any wedding ring. 

‘What if...’ his consciousness brought up once again as he quickly tidied up his appearance. Dark locks swayed as he shook his head forcefully, erasing the thought. ‘We will cross that bridge when we get there.’ Once rational thoughts replaced the arousal haze, anxiety kicked in. It felt loud inside his head, too many worries in such a small period.  He wasn’t sure what was worse at this rate. 

Blessing any existing god out there, his bathroom and the drawers with clothes were tidied up enough to find objects quickly. The dips of his hair dripped water almost everywhere. On other occasions, he would have waited until it dried a bit before anything else, but his mind was clouded with one priority—being in the room when she woke up. The idea of her waking up alone in his twisted sheets and undone bed, feeling used or discarded, was like a stab to his own morality. 

Heavy with water, hair fell into his face. He pushed it backward as his hand ran through his locks while searching for a shirt to wear. A pair of sweatpants was on, and this time, he was wearing underwear—the first garment he put on as the idea of his nudity made him uneasy. The Captain tried to put the uniform on, perhaps to finally go back to work after so many days, but he felt sensitive in places that would probably make him ashamed to confess. Tight white jeans were the last thing he desired right now. 

Gripping the edges of a simple white shirt to push it over his head, turning around and resting on the chest of drawers as he did. Pushing down the fabric, only to find two half-lidded eyes looking at him. Frozen in place, as if he waited for the bullet to pierce through his forehead. Slow blinks as he noticed her trying to gulp, her eyes focusing on him. On other occasions, he might consider how endearing and sexually appealing she looked while sleepily laying on her side, with the sheet sticking to the curve of her waist.  Suddenly, the edge of the sheet was pushed upwards, clinging to her body as she sat down erratically. 

‘Here we go,’ mentally preparing himself. 

“Levi?!” The confusion in her tone, the desperation in her eyes judging him across the room. “What- What happened? What is this?!” 

His lips parted softly as if he gathered what he could possibly answer. Her feet became exposed as she kept tugging on the sheet to cover her body. “Where are my clothes?” 

“I—” Levi murmured, his voice sounding rough and raspy as he hadn’t spoken for a good couple of hours while his eyes searched on the floor for any piece of garment that didn’t belong to him. “I don’t know.” 

“What time is it? What day is it? How—” 

“Look,” one of his hands raised as the other gripped the edge of the furniture behind him, grounding him to reality. “I’ve as much information as you.” 

A hiss of pain pierced through the room as she frowned deeply. Her hands instinctively reaching backward to her nape as the other tightly gripped the sheet against her chest. Confusion palpable in her face as, with drawn-together eyebrows and parted lips, she admired leftover blood in her hand from a wound that was probably repeated over the past few days. 

“You... you marked me?” her voice sounded distant. “But... I’m a beta.” 

Quick was him to add, “Yes, about that,” as if this was the only question on an exam’s sheet that he knew and was eager to answer. “No.” 

Her accusing eyes were back on him, not looking very pleased. “What do you mean? I’m 24 years old, I can’t present now. I’m a beta.” 

“Yeah,” he repeated this time less sure, “No…” 

She scoffed, offended that he doubted her word. “You’re saying you know more than me about myself? Than doctors? Than my own enlistment sheet?” 

Levi clicked his tongue and softly shook his head, “I ain’t no doctor, I’m just stating the shitty facts I got, and those are that alphas can’t claim betas,” his words seemed heavy with the weight of his own thoughts. “And betas don’t trigger a fucking rut of days into me. You got both.” 

His lips pursed together, head tilted downwards, and looking to his right. Being subtle and diplomatic with his words wasn’t what he was known for, and therefore he was trying his best to control his sharp tongue. She seemed obviously confused and scared. Society had certain implicit rules and expectations learned after presentation that Alphas and Omegas learned across the way as they grew. Himself had taught Eren when he presented that the brat couldn’t go around baring teeth and sniffing around if there was an Omega, to get a hold of their instincts. Couldn’t even imagine how it felt to find out about it so late in life. 

“Are you implying this was my fault?” Her eyes appeared reflective, and he hated that. 

“No, that ain’t what I said,” He quickly restored, involuntarily getting defensive. “Look, let’s—” his right hand raised once again trying to get his point across. Now presented, he could perceive her uneasiness in the air. 

“Don’t you dare to tell me to calm down,” the way she spat each word and the anger in her tone caught him off guard. 

His unwillingness to add to the issue made the hand that was reaching out softly switch to the right, pointing to the door as he spoke. “Let’s take a shower,” he rearranged his statement, “I bet the water warmed up already. Why don’t you take a shower while I clean this pigsty?” 

While the uneasiness in the room lingered as the stale air, the hostile undertones seemed to withdraw slowly as her attention focused on the bedroom’s floor, allowing Levi a moment of freedom from her demanding glance. “I— I’ve nothing to wear when I come out.” 

As the soldier he was, ready to break from the shock and jump into the battlefield, it snapped him. Turning around to quickly gather the first pieces of garments he could find and handing them back to her. “There are towels in the bathroom.” 

Y/N grabbed the pile of clothes and carefully put her feet back on the floor as she descended the bed, taking the sheet with her as if it could provide any sort of protection. Once the door was shut close, Levi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It hadn’t been easier than he anticipated. In reality, he had anticipated nothing, so her not snapping him across the face was already a win. 

Though he dedicated himself to picking up the remaining food and belongings scattered on the floor, the bitten loaves of bread, now growing mold, made him grimace uneasily and blush slightly in shame. Images of him hastily consuming the food until crawling back to bed played in his mind. Being reduced to such an animalistic state brewed a self-absorbed shame that was hard to explain. Perhaps it felt akin to the last time he had experienced a rut, despite not being with an omega—back in his early to mid-twenties, nearly a decade ago. The closest feeling that mirrored his shame was as if he had regressed to bedwetting or, more accurately, having to wash sheets after a wet dream. While it was natural for alphas to suffer ruts twice a year upon reaching adulthood, the years without them left him feeling wrong. 

Opening the window, he noticed the early morning glow in the sky. Inhaling fresh breaths, he felt a chill like sinking into frozen water. Both the office and bedroom windows were open, creating an airflow. Finally, out of his bedroom, he surveyed his suspiciously tidy office. Despite his hazy state, he seemed to have confined himself to lurking in his bedroom. A thin layer of dust, perceptible only to him, hinted that more days had passed than he anticipated. "There you are," he murmured, his eyes fixed on two pieces of clothing strewn on the floor—a nightgown and a cardigan. Picking them up, he folded them together. 

The sound of the bathroom door's knob opening caught his attention. Instead of leading to the bedroom, she emerged from the entrance that connected to the office. Uncertain, he stood still as her presence appeared again, holding folded bedsheets in her arms. The grey trousers and black turtleneck sweater she wore belonged to him. Their eyes met again; she seemed not to expect this encounter. 

"Uhm... I'm going to my room," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Your sheets." 

Levi extended his hand to accept her offer and handed her the folded clothes. He tried to engage the part of his brain responsible for social interaction to come up with an appropriate response. She took her clothes, mumbled a "Thank you," and left. Standing there, looking at the closed door, he felt confused, ashamed, and doubtful. Should he have said something? Done something? Well, in his mind, he had done enough—more than enough. 

‘Perhaps she needs time,’ he tried to rationalize the situation, but the painful short stabs in his body were something he wasn’t used to. His body wasn’t happy that he had let go of his mate, his perhaps pregnant mate. Instincts demanded once again; she may be carrying his offspring, and he just let her go—undefended, unprotected, to God knows where! ‘I know where, to her shitty room,’ he muttered under his breath as he argued against himself. 

Slender fingers scratched the back of his head, searching for mental peace. The growl of his stomach gave him an answer to the roaming question in his mind—what to do now? Search for food, apparently. The coldness of the air coming through the open windows made him shiver; feeling something other than scorching heat was refreshing. The walk of shame down the halls to the higher-ups' kitchen was reduced slightly by the early hours and its lack of people around. Continually sighing while thinking that anything inside the kitchen would be devoured. If it was from anyone else, he would apologize later; right now, he felt as if he had gone out and gotten pissed drunk the night before—overwhelmingly starving. 

“Well well well, look who finally came out from his bunker,” 

Levi did a quick side-eye contact as he bit on a piece of bread with cheese on top while he cooked himself breakfast, unable to wait until the actual meal was finished. Groaning an acknowledging reply to Hange as he had his mouth full. 

“If it wasn’t for the very loud awkward noises that came from your room, I would have declared you dead already,” the mischievous smile was even perceptible in their tone as they wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders. 

“I’m not in the mood, four eyes,” the captain muttered once he had swallowed the food. 

“Unbelievable, you are the lucky bastard who had been getting laid for almost twelve days straight, and you’re in a bad mood?! Nothing can make you stop being grumpy, isn’t it?” Hange said clearly entertained, but their words made Levi’s eyes sparkle. 

“Twelve days? What day is it?” 

Hange began to chuckle before replying, “18th of November. You owe me one; I had been training your squad and doing your paperwork for two weeks.” 

Uneasy groans of complaint echoed in the small kitchen as he stirred around the eggs with the bacon. His deadly eyes met the other squad leader, “Owe you? You should have kept everyone out of my room! You realize what I’ve just done?” 

Hange raised both of their hands in the air, “Wow wow, slow down! How is this my fault?” Their loud complaints were quick to arrive as Levi muttered bitter replies under his breath, “How was I supposed to know she was an omega? And even if I found out, you would have ripped my arms off just for the sake of mating with her.” 

“Yeah... you’re fucking right, goddamned it,” Levi accepted it resigned. 

“Where's your baby girl?” Hange’s cheeky personality was quick to return. “Making breakfast for your wifey?” 

“Don’t call her that,” Levi spit out, “In her room, she left.” 

It was the squad leader’s time to groan uneasily, “You let your newly presented and bonded mate leave? And you call yourself a high breed Alpha?” 

If it was even possible, Levi frowned more deeply. “What was I supposed to do?” he dragged the words as he muttered them under his breath, putting his breakfast out of the pan. “Kidnap her in my room?” 

Hange, who grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate to eat, owned a tired dead gaze from Levi, only to see him roll his eyes as the squad leader complained about it burning their fingers and being hot while they tried to eat it anyway. “Well,” they chuckled with their mouth full, “You kidnapped her there for twelve days, one more one less wasn’t going to make a difference.” 

The captain tiredly sighed echoed as he grabbed his plate and tugged it away from the other alpha before they devoured it all. Carefully putting the dishes in a tray with a tea set for the rest of the morning, ready to find solitude in his chambers again. 

“By the way,” Hange added again, “When do you think the due date is? Erwin and I have a bet on who is going to be cool uncle.” 

Levi stopped midway as he was about to leave the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face the brunette. “Why the hell were you and Eyebrows talking about that shit?” 

The other alpha simply shrugged and then commented, entertained, “It was hard not to talk about it. You two weren’t particularly hush about it, you know? We’re entitled to talk about it after enduring almost two weeks of hearing you two mate like wild animals.” 

Uneasy groans mixed with his ashamed grimace at the mere thought. It didn’t help that the titan lover kept going, “You know, we both concluded that we can’t believe we thought of her as a beta.” Their comment, made with the same unbothered attitude as Hange was known for rambling about topics, didn’t match with Levi's shift in attitude. First, the confusion surpassed his previous shame, only to then demand an explanation with his fierce, sharp eyes. Hange began to chuckle nervously as they thought that, perhaps, they shouldn’t have said that. “Well... you know...” they muttered, feeling the short man’s anger, “… it’s impossible that was a beta’s ass.” 

Two alphas, closed in a room talking about his omega’s ass. It’s the best ass in the walls, don’t get him wrong, but he’s the only one allowed to make that observation... at least publicly. 

“Ugh,” Hange complained loudly as they walked down a hall. 

Erwin looked at the squad leader confused and highlighted, “I saw Levi’s window open; he’s finally out?” then added, “Are you alright?” 

“Levi kicked me,” they replied as they caressed their butt. 

Shaking his head slightly and sighing as if he were dealing with children, “I told you not to tell him anything weird while he still had a cocktail of hormones inside him,” the commander simply reproached them. 

The thud of the forehead impacting with the harsh oak wood of the desk, the deep breath that came out as a scoff, fogging up the surface, the subtle sleet hitting the windows’ glass behind before turning into snow once again, dark locks tangling as they fell forward graciously, and the clock in the office announcing it was almost midnight. ‘I survived.’ Those felt like accurate words despite his line of work; his body felt as if he had been grabbed by a titan and snapped against those big trees. His body felt in better shape when he came back from an expedition, and he wasn’t lying. Not even the best intentions and the hardest mental strength could force him to go to training with his squad; the kids had been annoyingly supportive of hearing him feel better from his “cold.” 

The muscles of his legs twitched involuntarily, and the muscles of his body felt like jelly; his brain fogged with tiredness. Blaming it completely on the drop in hormones that forced him to be on top of his game, now he felt as if he was suffering withdrawal. Any mix of substances that his body produced in excess during his rut to secure the stamina to endure the mating, the strength and sharpness to be ready to fight for his breeding right, and also to protect him and his mate during the period the pheromones could have driven someone into their nest had fulfilled its role. Now, without them and the tiredness of the aftermath of forcing his body into them, it had left him feeling as if someone had smashed all his bones. Adding to that, his instincts didn’t cease to remind him to stay close to his mate, whom he hadn’t seen all day. In normal situations, newly mated couples would have nested until both felt back to their usual selves and, more importantly, until the claiming mark settled and marked forever their bond. 

If he had three surviving brain cells after everything, two were completely dedicated to reminding him that whatever they should be doing as mates, he simply wasn’t doing it. Gritting his teeth as his instincts having power over him was starting to drive him nuts. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to her, but he also wished to respect her space. Tired eyes, half-lidded, looked through his dark and dense eyelashes as he checked the clock after it began to announce midnight. The only few times he had left his chambers to pick up and deliver paperwork and during meals to check on his squad, he hadn’t seen her. And from what he subtly asked, nobody else had either. 

This anxiety and uncertainty in him weren’t normal; he was usually decisive. The tip of the fountain pen hit against the paper, leaving little dots as he pondered the idea of checking on her, trying to decipher if it was his instincts talking or actual rational thoughts. 

“Fuck it,” 

White rice with butter and cheese in a bowl, carried on a tray, sliced apples, chamomile tea. Were the rumors true that omegas felt nauseous during post-mating syndrome? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to take risks. Had he overdone it? His anxiety replied positively. His lack of security wasn't something he enjoyed, and his knuckles hesitated to knock on the infirmary's door that led to her personal chambers inside. Forcing himself, one, two, three knocks resounded too much for his liking in the middle of the night. 

Time seemed to move slowly, and he seriously considered leaving the food there. Then the door creaked, and her tired eyes observed him from the gap. 

"I-Uh... I brought you some supper," Levi mentioned, slightly raising the tray as if the metal piece with food on top wasn't enough indication. 

The heavy dark circles under her eyes, the reflection in them, and her uneven look. She had seen better days; they had seen better days. Her silence gnawed at his sanity, and he seriously considered that interacting was easier when they were both intoxicated with their own hormones. Plus, his awkwardness and lack of social skills made him conclude that, perhaps, his body was right, and the only way he could engage in producing offspring was clouding his judgment completely. 

"Everything smells very strong, makes me nauseous," her voice, subtle as the flight of a moth in the middle of the night, murmured as her hands gripped the edge of the door, resting her face and weight on it. "It's very overwhelming." 

Levi readjusted his weight to the other leg and gave it a thought. "It's natural; you'll get used to it," he replied shortly, "and learn to kinda switch off your brain to not pay attention to every piece of nonsense." 

He, for example, could perceive it all. She was like an open book, her distress, confusion, and now subtle tints of happiness that he tried to attribute to her body reacting positively to the proximity of him as her mate. It was, in a sense, a bit endearing how she wasn't able to control her pheromones yet. 

Y/N's soft chuckles caught his attention as the air turned sweet, and she smiled softly. "You know a lot," she replied. Unconsciously, it boosted his pride; her body reacted positively and relaxed in his presence. 

"I presented when I was 11, an early bloomer. I remember wanting to rip off my shitty nose from my face," his comment made her chuckle again, and it made him wish he had something else to say to earn another smile. 

She let the door adorned with a small brass plaque that simply read "Infirmary" slide open and stepped to a side as a subtle indication he was welcome in. Levi had been there too many times, none of them for himself but usually because Jean and Eren fought again. As one entered, the scent of antiseptic greeted them, mingling with the faint aroma of old wood and polished linoleum floors and hers that it took all his willpower to fight against. If his body was trying to return to its normal working system, her uncontrolled liberation of pheromones was like a punch in the gut that he tried to hide. 

The walls were painted in a soothing, muted colour to create an illusion of calmness, while the tall, narrow windows allowed slivers of nightlight to filter through dusty curtains. Rows of narrow iron beds lined the room, each neatly made with crisp white sheets and thin, worn blankets. A wooden cabinet filled with basic medical supplies, from bandages to cough syrup, occupied one corner, its glass doors revealing caramel bottles with remedies. 

A small desk in the corner held a register where ailments and treatments were meticulously recorded with pen and ink. A single, dim lamp illuminated the desk, casting a pool of light in an otherwise subdued room. One small door that mimetite with the walls, led to her personal chambers. They were very similar to his, slightly smaller and with a small round table probably to fill up the lack of an office. And, of course, a bathroom with two doors, one leading to the infirmary and another to her room. He left the tray on the table, and his eyes did a quick check on her room, mostly out of curiosity. 

It was tidy, not to his standards but nice. The bed was made, and the sort of femininity that the place radiated made him giggle or nervous from inside. Perhaps it was the crochet table runner, the bed's scarf, the small pots with plants on the window frame, the body lotions next to the bed. The attention to details that he, despite living in his own space for longer, hadn't thought of buying, and she had insisted on making the place her own despite the lugged bags still being around as she hadn't been done unpacking yet. It all made him wonder when the last time had been he had been at a woman's place; the life in the scouts really makes nights lonely. 

Not wanting to overstay his visit, he was ready to leave. But as she sat down on her small table, her hand reached out to grip his forearm and look up to him. "Stay; it makes my mind so calm and quiet when you're around," she said without any restrictions. 

"It's the bond," Levi murmured, but he sat down anyway. Trying to disguise how mentally peaceful himself was now that they were close, his possessiveness of "what if there's another alpha around when I'm not there? What if she lets another alpha claim her to change the mark when it's still too fresh?" quickly subsided. 

She took quiet and slow spoon feed portions of the rice, and he tried to glue his eyes on anything else to not make her feel observed while eating. Her loud tired sighs filled the extremely uncomfortable silence, "you know... my life was way easier when I was a beta." 

Levi hummed in appreciation, "I bet," he added without much to say. 

"It's a very weird feeling, bittersweet perhaps," Y/N murmured while she slowly ate. She chuckled softly, as if she remembered something funny. "I had this very silly crush on you since I joined, and you helped me clean the infirmary. I accepted that we would only be friends because," she stopped, and he looked at her, shocked. "Well, because you're a high-breed alpha-" 

"I've never actually cared about those shits, not like I'm some banker's brat that needs to secure an heir," Levi quickly added, interrupting her. 

"Huh?" Her face turned to the left to look at him as his statement made no sense, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

Words weren't his strength, so he decided to spit out anything in his brain. "That I didn't care you were a beta." 

"Are you implying you had been flirting with me before this?" 

He scratched the back of his head and murmured slightly offended, "Yeah, for the past two months. Thank you for finally noticing." 

Despite his soft words, she remained confused “That was you flirting?” 

Levi scoffed, offended. "Fucking excuse me, usually, we flirt with scents and mark territory — both things you didn't notice until now." 

Perhaps then, pieces fell into place, the sense of calmness she experienced each time they had tea at his place. The subtle citrus, lavender-scented with a musky undertone had always been him, trying to convey his intentions in the only way he knew how. Or, maybe, all the opposites—his body reacting on its own, even at the prospect of her being a beta, trying to provide a sense of protection and calmness to the place, showing his willingness to a potential mate. 

The only reply he got was a few shallows, quiet chuckles before she continued eating a little longer, a soft smile on her features. "And the bittersweet part?" Levi insisted, picking up where she had left off. 

"Oh," her memory recalled her comment, and she blushed heavily. "Well... apparently mating with an alpha is harder than being stepped on by a horde of Titans," she explained, grimacing uneasily. "I've bruises everywhere, and I can barely move." 

"I usually behave more... I'm not particularly vanilla, but I'm a bit more civilized." As the air lightened slightly, and it felt as if both were finally addressing the elephant in the room, Levi tried to force himself to be a bit more talkative. "If it makes you feel better, I feel like shit too." 

"You? What could you possibly be hurting from?" 

"I would like to see you topping for twelve days straight," Levi snorted back, his pride hurt that she wasn't taking his part of the job seriously. 

"Fair, fair." Giving in just for the sake of it, she picked up a slice of the red apple and ate it casually. "You know..." she thought of commenting but then, "nevermind." 

"What? Just spit it out," Levi's harsh nature stepped in, especially insisting as he observed her face turn red. 

"I was just thinking that... Maybe this explains why," her voice grew hushed and embarrassed, "I always felt like something was lacking with my beta ex." 

An entertained scoff left his lips, mixed with a cocky side smirk. He felt as if his inner alpha was kicking out of happiness. Alphas are competitive, possessive, and jealous creatures by nature; they may even feel jealous of the pillow their omega hugs while asleep. Being delighted with the idea that there’s no other that could provide the strength they show while mating is like a big pat on their back. 

Levi didn’t want to press the matter too much, letting her come and talk things out at her own pace. Her brows drew together as she felt the pain pulsing again, her hand reaching backward to softly caress the mark on her neck. “This hurts horrendously,” she admitted through clenched teeth, “I put numbing cream and-” 

“Don’t put anything on it,” Levi quickly interrupted. “Your body may react more because it feels that you may be trying to reject it.” 

Her eyes opened, locked into his, the frown still present. “Was biting me this hard so absolutely necessary?” 

“If I had any power over my actions during a rut, do you think we would be in this situation? Where there is a high chance, I got you knocked up?” 

Levi’s words pierced the night like a cannonball does from the top of the walls to a titan’s neck; she looked at him uneasy and confused. Nobody dared to even whisper; not even the sound of a mouse was perceived. Her expression of anger softly switched, as she averted his gaze looking in another direction. Maybe she preferred not to think about it, but Levi has always been a man that faced reality as it was given to him. 

“Maybe...” she started to suggest, breathing deeply. “Maybe it didn’t take,” 

Levi slightly contorted uneasily, taking a subtle deep breath to steady himself. “What?” her ignorance in certain dynamics was something he had to constantly remind himself. He knew she didn’t do it with harm, “I just came out of a two-week rut, my body has more hormones at the moment than a fifteen-year-old brat... try not to say straight in my face that I didn’t breed you properly because you’re only triggering another round on me.” 

“I’m just saying that I know that some low-breed omegas can’t get pregnant by high-breeds that easily. “ She insisted, giving it a rational thought “Maybe the reason I didn’t present is that I’m closer to a beta than an omega by being low breed.” 

While her explanation seemed logical in her mind, Levi heard her with a deadpan expression. “Didn’t you hear me? Two shitty weeks, no fuckin’ way you’re low-breed.” 

Perhaps that had been the consolation she had been running with the entire day, and the weight of the matter began to hang on her heavier than before, which didn’t help Levi to feel less concerned and uneasy. Her attention lost somewhere, and for once, Levi wished he could be subtle and charismatic, perhaps to have something to say. The confession she had made a few minutes ago held in Levi’s mind longer than he liked to admit, and he tried to wrap himself around it to initiate his response, waiting first for a bit for her to add anything else. 

“Ehm-” he cleared his throat as he drew attention back to him, sat down around her small round table in the corner of her room, “maybe we jumped a bunch of shitty steps in the dating process or whatever, but I don’t mind trying to make it work if you want.” 

His right hand dubiously reached out thinking of creating physical contact for comfort. First reaching for her left thigh but reconsidering deeply, while pressing his lips together, he moved it upwards to her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And I’ll back you up in any decision you take about it if it turns out you’re knocked up.” 

Her drained voice, perhaps due to tiredness or fear, whispered, “Really?” 

“Huh?” Levi seemed slightly confused, “well, we are already bonded, so at least we could give it a try...” 

“No, I mean the other. You really don’t mind anything?” her voice was barely above a whisper. 

The washed-out memory of his own mother popped into his mind for a brief second before replying seriously and with no doubt on his face, "Well... I won’t be the one pregnant for nine months and neither the one who is going to be giving birth, so what I prefer doesn’t really matter," Levi said unfazed. "And I know I’m not a fucking sunshine, but I’m not that shitty to get you knocked up and leave you to face it alone." 

While nothing was written in stone, and the consequences of it were still too soon to be sure, there was a soft sense of tranquillity that washed over her. A soft smile cracked on her face. "Thank you," she murmured. 

At the beginning, it felt conflicting going back as if nothing had happened. Drinking tea at his office while both worked on their respective paperwork, nobody wanted to press the matter further. Though Levi would hear whispering gossip between his own squad, the Captain tried his best to let her process what had happened and allow himself to do it. 

Keeping the scouts under strict rules of not letting it escalate was easy; a death glance from Humanity’s strongest soldier was enough to make all the curious cadet and squad leaders keep themselves in line. Humanity’s strongest soldier, that’s who Levi was. "Worth an entire army," whispers as the scouts pass by, the only one that people recognized enough for those "Wanted" posters while they were fighting the uprising a few months ago. The person people put their dreams and hopes in now that they were planning the retake of Wall Maria. 

"MH..." hummed sounds echoed in her throat as her delighted eyes admired the pastries in the showcase. Levi has taken his squad to pick up groceries downtown, and she had insisted on going, breathing some fresh air and sending medical reports. "I’m really craving something sweet," it was more of an inner monologue than something meant to be answered. 

Though her eyes full of desire caught Levi's attention as he was waiting for the provisions given to him, analyzing it with second thoughts. But he wasn’t the only one with curious eyes; the baker admired the scene behind the counter. The madam was an omega, and, while her years of fertility may have already passed, she had been involved in too many dynamics and had enough kids behind her to spot a freshly mated couple from a mile. 

"Ah! The hazelnuts one, please!" Y/N had finally made up her mind on her little treat, pointing with her finger across the glass at the small cake. The old woman nodded in agreement. Another coworker was putting the big flour white bags on the rustic cart they had brought to take the provisions as Levi supervised both. When the baker was handling the smaller purchase, Y/N was about to handle her payment, but Levi was quick to offer the money first with the military coupons for the food provisions. 

"Hey," she looked at him complaining but not completely mad. "It’s mine; I’m paying." 

Levi clicked his tongue, "Don’t be stupid," he insisted and grabbed the paper bag to hand to her. While he didn’t reciprocate the soft pouting, she did at him, the shop owner simply took his food coupons and smiled as she regretted the money. 

"It’s on the house," she quickly added, and Y/N checked the inside of the bag, and there were also extra treats and cookies. Levi didn’t seem convinced about it, but the old woman, with her white apron covering most of her dress and her hair out of the way, smiled interestedly and asked, "When is the due date?" 

Older women and their audacity; colours quickly dropped from both, only to raise back harder as blood rushed to their cheeks. 

"Ehm, it’s too soon yet," Levi quickly added, trying to smooth out the situation, shortly spitting out the answer. 

The surprised gasp, and then "Oh, I thought... well, it’s hard to tell with all the layers during winter," she insisted. Y/N smiled awkwardly, as, after receiving the gift, she didn’t want to just leave. "So, is it recent?" 

Levi’s eyes did quick checks on the cart, praying it would get all the provisions faster so he could slip himself from this social situation, "Yeah," he groaned out. 

"Weird... it’s not mating season," she commented, pointing out something that Levi had probably seen coming; he had to hold back a sigh. 

"Yes, well, thank you very much," he replied faster as he noticed the cart was loaded, and he was more than ready to leave. Y/N thanked back too, gathering any left in her to give a sort of friendly grimace before walking away with him. 

The uncomfortable silence as they walked across the rest of the shops, Levi’s squad taking care of different tasks, and some of them even shopping for themselves. "How?" she began to question unsure while adjusting her scarf that covered the mating mark. 

"The scent," Levi quickly replied, already knowing where the conversation was going. "I come here very often; she probably noticed the change, and you smelling as a mated omega put two and two together." 

Humming a mix between an understanding but confused reply, she wrapped herself better in her coat as the weather was still very harsh. "I still get confused about the aromas thing," the nurse confessed. "Sometimes it feels like teenagers get it better than me." There was a sort of defeat with shame in her tone. 

"When you’re mated, you can say that you stink less. After all, there’s no point in dragging attention any further," Levi explained. "Think of it as getting a cheap, shitty perfume; you still smell like you, but less intense." 

Her attention was drawn to her left as he explained it out for her, both resting on the edge of the cart as they waited. Blaming the cold on her cheeks, softly blushing as she smiled at his understanding. After this, she was thankful that her trips to the downtown were very scarce because the rumor spread faster than any winter flu. Levi could barely walk down without getting congratulations, presents, cheerful words from older women and young mothers. Some gifted him wood for the baby, treats for his mate, the proud pats of older alphas telling him that "good for him, it was time already for getting a proper mate." 

Even the Reeves sent him meat under the excuse that "pregnant women need more iron." His face always tried to hide the unpleasant social moments that came with this, but Hange insisted that he was not nailing at faking being happy about the public celebrations. 'It’s too soon,' he would insist, but 'you’re a high breed and so is she, both young, everybody is sure it will take.' 

"Perhaps it’s bad timing," Erwin commented, trying to hold back a mischievous smirk. "But Nile and Zackary send their congratulations." Levi dedicated his beast dead glance across the office as they were in a meeting. Hange didn’t even try to hold back a loud laugh while Erwin tried his best not to chuckle in the captain’s face. "Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t tell them... they found out on their own." 

Fingers doing pressure on the bridge of his wrinkled nose, "Fuck me," he cursed under his breath. It’s not that he wasn’t "sure"; it had been almost two months, and she hadn’t come to him with any "news," which meant that any passing day was more of a confirmation than a negative. She seemed reluctant even to mention the topic, and since both seemed to be improving the quality time together, Levi didn’t want to risk asking too much. But the uncertainty was starting to grow on him. It didn’t help that her pheromones sometimes gave him clues when they were alone that she was interested in perhaps moving a bit further than just sharing teatime together. His scent quickly matched, giving away that he was more than willing to get tangled in bed once again, this time both consciously. 

But... she never noticed, never made a move, and after what happened, he wanted her to take the lead. 'It’s her body reacting,' he reminded himself, which was both arousing to know her deeper instincts wanted him, cute that she couldn’t control it yet, and frustrating to know that it wasn’t voluntary. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had never been mated before, obviously, and being around his mate triggered it more. If he had gone so many years without it that after getting laid again, he started to crave it more. But he felt the necessity. 

So, there she was, sat down on his desk, legs swinging as she ranted about how her day visiting her friends had been. Until the unsure clearing of her throat caught his attention again from paperwork. "I was... wondering if perhaps you could spare me a couple of clothes?" 

That had definitely caught him off guard. "My friends from my nurse’s hostel, most of them are omegas, so they almost threw me a welcome party," Levi hummed understanding, wanting to know where this was going. "They mentioned that perhaps my insomnia may be due to... nesting? That my body feels uneasy, and perhaps having my mate’s scent would help? Sounds very stupid, I know-" 

"Sure," he quickly agreed and blessed his well-known stoic face to hide his disappointment. His own mate preferred a bunch of scented clothes over being with him; his inner instincts were kicking in anger, almost throwing a tantrum in the floor of his mind like a spoiled brat. Being rejected by your bond is not something alphas took easily, and he had to clench his teeth holding back the imperious necessity to mark territory again. He was better than behaving like a wild animal, he knew but yet. 

"Give me a minute to finish this report," he replied between clenched teeth. 

"Expedition Wall Maria?" She asked, somehow trying to keep the conversation alive. He hummed positively. "How are the preparations going?" she insisted, pushing the topic further. 

"Good." 

Her lips pressed together; her eyes never left the back of his head as he curved over his desk to write endless reports. Then, "You’re going to come back, right?" pierced the room, followed by "...you’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?" 

The pen stopped moving as his fingers left it to rest after it had run out of ink, his back straightened up to look over to her as she remained seated on the edge of the desk, the desk where he had undressed her. Coral light filtering through the window’s glass landing on her. The training was over only an hour ago, and he tried to advance paperwork before dinner. It was still early, and the bustling of the building hadn’t ceased yet. Despite it all, Levi felt as if the silence was overwhelmingly loud. 

The doubt in her eyes was almost tangible; therefore, he said the only thing that crossed his mind. "I’ll come back walking if I have to." 

Fast short scoff as her cheeks raised in a tender smile, Levi was tempted to push the idea further. He took it as a confirmation somehow and wanted to know it all, at least what she knew so far. But before he knew it, she was descending from his desk, and the intentions of leaving the place were written all over her face. 

"Let me finish this, and I’ll give you the shirts," Levi insisted, the disappointment on his face was hard to disguise until her hand grabbed his armrest for support, one leg then the other. It was so simple, but his legs tilted sideways, and he could feel how his blood dropped to pump downwards as she sat down on his lap. Instinctively tilting his leg outward, making space, parting legs. 

The scent passing thought his nostrils, soaking in his brain, making him be aware of his fangs before he could notice. It wasn’t like a heat, of course, not but inviting enough. Receiprocating almost immediately, on full will and not so much too, seeing how with each breath her cheeks blushed more and her eyes turned transparent. Ass on his knees, making him wish she had moved forward directly over his bulge, to feel the sweet pressure of her body over his dick.  

"I don’t think I want the shirts..." She murmured, somehow quickly breathless, as her right hand reached forward to cup his face, “I’ve one and it doesn’t smell like you,” her eyes turning transparent as the pheromones sank in, remembering the clothes he had borrowed her the morning after “You smell divine,” 

His hands moved instinctively, quickly rubbing her sides lightly, cupping her hips before gripping and try to push her closer, “How is this fucking fair?” he said hoarsely, trying to keep his voice level despite the fire raging through his veins “You had my clothes and I was here, like a teenager trying to recall how your slippery cunt milked me dry,” 

The shock ways shivering down both of them, forcing a soft gasp out of her parted lips as Levi buried his face on the crook of her neck, feeling his mating mark. Recalling with pleasure it had been him who had claimed her, she was all his and nobody else. Shameless tongue running through the mark with closed eyes and scoff of aphrodisiac reassurance, he could feel the pheromones in her skin. Both bodies reacting to each other as if they were made for this. Her hand gripping his dark locks as her neck suffered the attack. 

Softly rocking between his parted legs, she could feel the outline of his hardening cock almost painfully twitching against the white trousers of the uniform. Crumping upwards the skirt but a strong push of her hand against his chest got him resting on the desk’s chair. Dusted cheeks, sassy smirk, her neck glistering under the tangerine light of the afternoon, “I want to suck you, Captain,” 

He couldn’t make his mind in which he liked more, the memory of her in-drunk state of pure heat’s submission, becoming a pliant hole for him to fuck rough or her assertive cock drunk self. But he couldn’t mind it less as her hand palmed the front of his trousers before grasping his length to start to pump it through the fabric. She straddled Levi, hand on his shoulders before kissing him desperately, Levi kissed her back forcefully.  

The early afternoon had turned excided as one of his hands gripped the back of her neck to kiss her deeply, hips gridding against each other. His hand kneeling her ass through the uniform dress with content. Head switching to the sides as he pried her mouth open, saliva dripping to the sides. The sound her lips parting echoed in the office, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the view of her reddish pumped lips. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he imagined her on her knees, those full lips wrapped around him. 

His hands tightened around her ass cheeks, before giving it a good smack that made her jump slightly in his lap. Loud gasp as he pulls her closer and he leaned towards her ear again “Eager for it, huh?” 

“Mhh-” Nodding enthusiastic while humming positively. 

“Good girl,” Levi smirked, caressing her ass once more, squeezing it tightly before slapping it again. Burning sensation crossing though her body only to feel it tingling with the afterglow heating sensation of the hit, “On your knees. Suck me dry, baby girl,”  

Straighten up slightly on his seat as she pulled away to get on her knees to unbuckle his belt. Raising slightly to rip his trousers and boxes as down as they could go with the harness on. Uncomfortably staying on the middle of his thighs and Levi quickly concluded that whoever designed the military uniform didn’t get laid frequently or, at least, they weren’t thinking in getting fuck on their desk’s chair. Exposing his hardened cock fully, it stood erect and throbbing as the tip glistered with pre cum. On top of his balls, the base was slightly engorged as it prepared for the knotting at the correct time. 

Half lidded eyes admiring as she hovered with her forearms on each side of his legs to softly, almost ghostly, run the tip of her tongue through his thick, pale shalf. The action alone, the teasing, made him want to thrust forward and leak precum thought the tip. Big eyes looking up to him through her eyelashes. Smirking playfully as she collected the dropping with her tongue, only to then roll down the foreskin, revealing the tip to wrap her lips around the darkened head and suck directly from the exposed slit. 

His hands gripped the chenille of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth. Clenching his teeth as she kept teasing him, giving subtle little kitty licks to the sides, sucking directly from the tip without going down. Barely toughing him. 

“Fuck,” Levi cursed as he could feel the smirk on her lips, moving up again to the head. His hands gripped her head firmly, guiding her towards his aching member. "Suck me," he growled hoarsely, his voice filled with hunger and desire. Forcefully pushing her downwards this time, feeling the vibrations of her complain around his cock. 

“There you go,” Levi groaned. Her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking hungrily on it as she continued to stroke him firmly. Slender fingers ran up and down around her hair before make shifting a ponytail to keep the hairs out of her face, admiring the view better. Her reddish lips, struggling around his cock, watery eyes as she tried to take a bit more each time she went down, the hollowing of her cheeks, the velvety sensation of her tongue against the pulsating vein of his cock each time she bobbed upwards. Delicate hands gripping the side of his thighs for support as she began to bob her head with favour. Her hand continued to stroke him rhythmically, matching the pace of her mouth movements. 

“Fuck,” Levi's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she took him deep, her warm, wet mouth engulfing his entire length. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her head firmly as he began to thrust into her throat, fucking her face roughly.  

"That's it, girly," he praised, his voice hoarse with desire. His mind kept reminding him he should have got his sooner, remind her who was his alpha and get it. Fucking her throat roughly, his hips bucked wildly, each powerful thrust pushing deeper into her throat. Her hands dropped to his legs, fingers digging into his thighs for balance, hearing her struggle to take him all in. 

“MHH!” Her chocking sounds mixed with the whines as he kept forcing her head all the way down, the saliva dripping through her mouth corners. As she deep throated him, gagging, Levi's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head down harder against his member. His mind kept reminding him he should have gotten a mate sooner, priving himself from this was unhuman. To have an omega, to fuck her silly, to enjoy the tightest warmest cock-drunk cunt each time he wanted. Submissive pretty little thing, to mount and breed at least once per year. 

“What’s the matter? Not used to the thick fat cock of an alpha?” the smirk on his face could almost be heard through the pants that left his lips, “Don’t worry,” he mocked with faked condescending, “I’ll teach you how to be a proper omega,” 

Half lidded eyes looking back at him as she sobbed while letting Levi use her mouth, droll dripping down her chin. 

The feeling of her throat contracting around his length was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips bucked wildly, thrusting harder and faster, his balls slapping against her chin as she continued to suckle hungrily. 

"That's it," he growled, his voice low and husky. Her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers, mixed with the wet sounds of her mouth working over his cock. “That’s my good girl,” he praised before finally pulling her head off with a loud pop. Quickly she crawled into his lap, straddling him. 

His fingers unbuttoned the front of her uniform, yanked down the sleeves to a side so he could have direct access to her chest. His fingers traced the delicate curves of her breasts through the fabric, feeling her nipples harden under his touch. He leaned forward, capturing one of them between his lips, sucking greedily as his hand cupped her other breast, kneading it roughly. 

“Ahh- Levi!” her soft moans echoing in the room mixing with the tale-tell of his lips licking her bud. His tongue circled her nipple, teasing it before finally taking it into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily through the fabric. The inner part of her breast turning a dark shade as he sucked the valley of her chest. Meanwhile, Levi’s freehand moved to gather her skirt to her waist.  

Levi's hands grabbed her ass, squeezing and kneading it roughly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath her skirt. He couldn't resist the urge to taste her again, suckling greedily on her nipple as he thrust his hips upwards, grinding their bodies together. His tongue continued to tease and suck on her nipple, alternating between gentle flicks of his tongue against the sensitive bud and deep, forceful sucks that left marks on her skin. His hips rocked rhythmically beneath her, grinding their crotches together, seeking more contact. But it wasn't enough. He needed to feel her wetness, to know for certain how much she wanted him. 

As soon as his fingers brushed against her entrance, she let out a soft cry, arching her back into his touch. Her hips bucked subtly against his hand, inviting him deeper inside her. And so, without any further hesitation and incapable of waiting any more, Levi pushed her underwear to a side and slid two fingers into her core, moaning softly at the slick warmth enveloping him. 

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. His thumb rubbed against her clit, circling it in a slow, deliberate motion. "You were made for this," then he insisted, “You got it all fucking wrong, you’ve always been made for this. To cramp down my fat knot,” 

Levi couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he heard Y/N’s soft mewls, her body responding eagerly to his touch clinging to his fingers like a vice. "You like that?" he murmured; his voice thick with desire. "You want more? You want me to breed you again?"  

"Mh," she moaned, arching her back further as his fingers delved deeper. Her hands gripped his shoulders, holding herself steady as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Fuck yes..." 

Hair falling backwards as she arched over him, continuing to fuck herself on his fingers, Levi could feel the tension building within him. He wanted more—needed to be inside her, feeling her tight heat surround him completely. But there was something else driving him, too—something primal and possessive that made him crave the act of mark her as his own, to make sure everyone knew she belonged to him. 

“Yes! Ah- Yes, Levi!” Y/N mewled pleasantly, milking the digits. 

It was a strange feeling for him, this possessiveness over another person—but at the same time, it felt right. Like something he had been missing all these years without even realizing it. 

"Wanna get my knot again? Mh?" He chuckled darkly, almost coaxing a confession out of her. "I'll fucking remind you how I got you knocked up," he promised. Her body clenched around his fingers, a silent plea for more, and Levi didn't disappoint. 

"Tell me," He growled, his voice low and husky. "Admit it, you want my knot inside you." 

As if she had been waiting for this moment, Y/N’s eyes locked with his, filled with a mix of lust and submission. "Yes... I need it... give it to me..." 

"That's my girl," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "Take every inch of me, just like your tight little cunt was made for this." 

He pulled his fingers out of her, savouring the sound of her whimpering protest. His hand reached down between their bodies, grasping his own painfully hard cock, which was now leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach. With one swift motion, he positioned himself at her entrance, lining up his head with her tight hole. Her hand gripped his shoulder and slowly sunk on it. 

As Levi felt himself sliding into her tight heat, he groaned in pure bliss. Her walls squeezed around him, milking every inch of his length as she slowly lowered herself onto him. His fangs ached with the need to claim her again, but he resisted the urge for now. 

“N-Ngh,” she mewled, “Ah, so big,”. He had just put it in, and she could feel the head of his cock already prodding her cervix. The fullness and tug of her own body trying to fit him all in was aphrodisiacal, if it wasn’t that they were already bonded, she would have promised to never fuck a beta again. Levi’s dick was so impossible thick, it didn’t help that he pressed a hand on her belly to feel himself there. To feel himself filling her up to the brim as she wiggled her way down to be fully seated.  

His hands gripped her hips tightly, helping her to ease up and down his cock as he fucked her roughly, their bodies slapping together noisily. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making his fangs ache with the need to mark her again. She was riding him as her life depended on it, mouth hanging open, drooling as her eyes rolled backwards each time his cock plugged all the way in, hitting all the good spots. 

"Fuck," Levi hissed, gasping softly as he admired with delight her well-fucked face. He could hear the wet sounds of their bodies coming together, see the glistening sweat on her skin as she moved against him. 

"Fucking— Shit," he growled breathless, thrusting harder into her depths. "You like that? You love swallowing my cock?” 

“YES! Ah- yes!” shamelessly moaning as she sat down completely, gyrating her hips before going back to bounce. 

Momentarily closing his eyes, pushing his head against the back of the seat as he felt his cock squeezed, sucking him in the best cunt he had ever had. “God- Yes, keep going,” he urged. Levi could feel it all the base of his cock inflate, her slick dripping down his balls. He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her ass cheeks apart for better access to her hole. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his voice interrupted for heavy inhales and satisfied groans. 

“Fu-fuck, enjoying that dick?” Levi growled satisfied; his voice weakened with desperation. 

Positive mewls vibrated on her throat as he thrusted upwards hard enough to make her wince each time. 

"You're mine," Levi growled, his voice hoarse with desire. "Mine to claim and fuck whenever I want." His hips bucked harder, driving deeper into her tight channel, hitting all her good spots mercilessly. 

The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, creating a rhythmic beat that matched their shared heartbeats. Sweat dripped down both of them, mixing on their skin in a sticky mess. He could feel himself nearing climax, his balls tightening up as he prepared to release inside her. 

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Let go and let me fill you up again." 

She let out everything shamelessly; mewls, whims, load moans of his name as she sank down one last time. Using his shoulder to leverage, gripping his uniform jacket with her fist, tugging him closer. Crying in pleasure as she came all over him. Levi gripped her hips harder, pounding upwards with everything he had, chasing his own release. 

“Nng- Ah-” she complained slightly as his swallowed base teased to finally pop inside. Levi gritted his teeth painfully as he kept gridding upwards, trying to finally put his knot. 

Levi couldn't hold back any longer, reaching forward and biting her harshly over his claiming mark once more. Painful gasp left her lips as she twitched over him. With one final powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her tight channel, groaning in pure ecstasy as his climax crashed over him once his knot pressed against her entrance and managed to slip in. His cock twitched violently, spurting hot seed deep within her womb, filling her up completely. 

"Ah- yesss!" he cried out, his voice cracking with pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good." He kept jerking himself against her, pumping in in vain, unable to pull out, as he kept coming. He held onto her hips tightly, thrusting weakly against her even after he had finished, savouring the feel of being buried inside her. His heart pounded against his chest, and he could feel his breath hitching in his throat as the aftermath washed over him. 

Body slacked against the chair, collapsing on it. Hair sticking to each other's face as both panted heavily trying to catch their breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her head buried on the crook of his neck. Then she tilted lightly to the right as his hands softly caressed her face, pushing the sticky locks out of her features. She smiled softly with blushed cheeks and half lidded eyes in satisfaction. Leading forward, sharing a couple of sloppy kisses as they came down the peak.  

The once warm light that came through the window had turned coldly as the night slightly slipped in.  He felt exhausted yet satisfied, but an uncomfortable whine followed by a hiss left his lips as he felt her move. “Don’t” he warned her, his hand gripping her hips to hold her in place. His knot still locking them together and his cock twitched in overstimulation. 

Y/N groaned uncomfortable, “How long does this take?” 

“The more you move, the longer it will take,” He said, “Half an hour at least,” 

“I’m hungry,” she complained. 

“Well... that make two of us,” Levi replied. 

[moonstruckme]

And then I have one but idk which marauder to make it for so I’ll let you pick whoever you think it fits better. I have to take medicine for my OCD and anxiety but it’s embarrassing. So I’m like imagining who you pick staying the night with the reader and her skipping her medicine because she’s embarrassed but being off medicine messes you up. So clearly the reader would be alittle down and out of it so her friend asks her if she’s okay and if she took her medicine. Welllllll the marauder hears that and later that night when they are getting ready for bed he simply hands her a glass and asks her to take her medicine please and mentions how he wants all of her that includes the quirks, need for medicine, and need for comfort sometimes too.

I decided to make this part of the Sirius x Remus' roommate saga, hope that's alright! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: some symptoms of withdrawal, reader takes prescription meds

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Apparently, even when Sirius gets you out of your flat for the weekend, Remus is still always in the middle of things. 

“I can’t believe you got him to watch New Girl,” Remus complains over speakerphone as you make yourself a cup of tea. Sirius had offered to do it for you, but you’d brushed him off, and he’d been too busy secretly delighting in how comfortable you are in his flat to argue further. “James and I have been trying to get him to watch the first episode for years.” 

“Mmm, you’ve got to start on season three to get people interested, then go back,” you tell him wisely. “I showed him my favorite episode, the one with…uh…”

You trail off, and Sirius looks at you over the top of the couch. There’s a dissatisfied pinch between your brows.

“The one with the spider?” Remus prompts knowingly. 

“Right.” You blink a couple of times, refocusing on your mug as you pour hot water in over the teabag. “That one.” 

“Well, the apartment is quiet without you, but I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

Sirius’ mouth curls as he waits for your response. Though he sometimes still gets jealous of the easy intimacy between you as roommates, he’s come to enjoy the entertainment value of your banter with Remus. The apartment’s just as quiet with me, you’ll say, or You don’t even want to know what kind of fun we’re having. 

But your gaze has gone distant, and after a few seconds, the reply doesn’t seem like it’s going to come. 

Sirius feels worry snake around his ribcage, a light but noticeable pressure. A few hours ago, you’d complained of a headache, and ever since then you’ve seemed in an odd headspace. You’re quieter than you’ve ever been around him, you claimed not to feel like lunch, and he’s caught you stumbling or losing track of your thoughts on more than a couple occaisions. He’d asked once if you’d wanted to go home, but you’d promised you were fine and Sirius didn’t want to push the issue. He loves having you here, he really does, but he hopes it’s nothing about being in his home that’s making you seem so…off. He’d compromised by suggesting you show him that show you’re always referencing (Remus and James were right, it actually is pretty good) in the hopes that a few hours of relaxation would help restore you to yourself, but you don’t seem to be feeling better. 

Even over the phone, Remus picks up on it too. “You alright?” 

“Mm?” You blink. “Oh, yeah.” There’s a forced cheer to your voice, and Sirius watches as you roll your shoulders as if bracing yourself. “I’m just a little tired, I guess.” 

Remus hums, the sound crackling through the speaker. “Did you take your medicine last night?” 

You take him off speaker. Sirius turns when your eyes dart towards where he’s sitting on the couch, taking the coward’s way out on instinct and pretending he wasn’t paying attention. 

“I’m fine,” you say quietly into the phone. Sirius can’t hear Remus well enough anymore to make out his response, but he recognizes the slow, coaxing inflection of his friend’s voice. Your own tone sharpens in contrast, though you sound heartbreakingly exhausted. “I’ve got it. Yep, thanks. See you tomorrow.” 

You blow on your tea as you join Sirius on the couch, not a trace of apprehension about you. He extends his arm invitingly, and you slot underneath it like it’s home. 

“I gather you two aren’t used to time apart,” he teases, trying to entice a smile from you. 

It works, albeit only slightly. The curve of your lips is minute, but he’ll take it. “We’re both homebodies,” you say simply. “We’ve grown too used to being around each other.” 

“His privilege and your curse,” Sirius laments, exaggerating his grunt when you elbow him in the ribs. “Fine, you’re both very lucky. I’m just glad I managed to snag you for one weekend.” When he aims a saccharine smile your way, he suspects you set your cheek on his shoulder as a ploy to hide your blush. It melts him regardless, like ice cream in the summertime. “Want to watch another episode, lovely girl?” 

He frowns when all that gets out of you is a hum, rubbing your bicep as he presses play. 

He manages to get some dinner into you by insisting you try takeaway from his favorite Thai place in the neighborhood, and you seem amenable to the idea of an early night, all but drooping over the sink as you brush your teeth. 

Sirius will never admit it, but his heart is pounding as he takes a glass down from above the kitchen sink, filling it with water. He hopes this isn’t a massive overreach. This thing between you is still relatively new, and the last thing he wants is to make your first stay at his place awkward for either of you, but he cares about you. From what Sirius can tell, you’ve withdrawn into what seems like an unhappy place inside your head, and he can’t just leave you there by yourself. 

He catches you just as you’re leaving the bathroom, passing you the glass of water as casually as he can, as if it's the most routine thing in the world, before taking your place at the sink. “Don’t forget your medicine,” he says softly, taking his toothbrush from beside yours in the cup.

For a moment, you’re quiet. Sirius squirts toothpaste onto his brush, trying his damndest not to look for your reaction in the mirror. 

“You heard Remus on the phone.” It’s almost a whisper. Nowhere close to a question.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius apologizes, glancing up at your reflection. You’re looking distant again, your gaze fixed somewhere to the left of his face. “I’m sorry if I heard something you didn’t want me to, but it’s…did you forget?” 

You take another long moment to reply. Sirius is careful to stay quiet, giving you space as you chew your lip, but when your eyes meet his in the mirror you look so crestfallen his heart nearly stops. “I didn’t forget,” you admit. “It’s just so embarrassing, I didn’t want you to know.” 

He can’t stay still anymore. His toothpaste drops with a wet smack into the bowl of the sink when he sets his toothbrush on the rim, and he’s got your hands in his in a second. “Sweetheart, what do you mean?” He keeps ahold of one of your hands, letting his other one coast up your arm to your shoulder, where his thumb massages your collarbone familiarly. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s just, it’s something you need to be yourself. Like…my sparkly doc martens, you know? Or Remus’ chocolate hoards.” 

Your laugh is brief, more a huffed exhale than anything, but Sirius grins at you nonetheless. His hand moves up to cup the back of your neck, thumb soothing over the edge of your jaw. 

“You know what I really like about you?” he asks. You don’t look inclined to answer, but your left brow flicks up as if to say Go on. “Everything.” 

You scoff, seeming lighter even as you pull away from grasp. “Shut up.” 

“No, really,” he insists, vying for your hand back. “Getting to know you, it’s been amazing. Every new thing I learn is just something more to like.” You finally stop fighting him, eyes wary as he grips you by the shoulders, keeping you in place. “I want to learn everything there is to know about you, whenever you’ll let me. And I know I can’t expect it all at once,” he says, voice dropping into a more sincere register, “but I want all of it, including the parts you think—wrongly, I might add—are embarrassing.” He gives your upper arms a light squeeze. “Got that, pretty girl?”

A light blush colors your cheeks, and Sirius grins. You’re getting harder to fluster these days, but he delights in making it happen whenever he can. “Okay,” you say, still a tad sheepish for his liking. He plants a kiss on your cheek. 

“Good. Now go get your meds. I don’t want you passing out during breakfast tomorrow because of withdrawal.” 

“That’s not how it works,” you snipe, but he hears the rattle of pills as you dig through your overnight bag. 

“Whatever,” he says breezily, picking up his toothbrush to put a new dollop of paste onto it. “I just can’t reckon with the idea that Remus still knows things about you I don’t. Shouldn’t I outrank him by now?” 

“You’ve had roommates,” you tell him, coming back into the bathroom with the glass of water half empty. “You’re really going to tell me that they don’t know more about you than I do right now?”

Sirius makes a noncommittal, muffled sound, pointing to his toothpaste-filled mouth as excuse not to answer. 

“Right,” you say drily. “Maybe we should call your pal Remus and see if he happens to recall.” 

Sirius has never spit so fast in his life. 

[merymoonbeam]

Possible Elriel plot points for the next ACOTAR book

First of all... I'm not saying this is all true. Just my own observation and link to theories that connect to stuff. So just try to enjoy.

We will go by topic. This is LONG. You have been warned.

1.Crossover

we will divide this into different topics.

a.the timeline

In Hosab Azriel carried Bryce to a house and we had this scene.

He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread? They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet.

We know it is town house. Here is the post that explains it. > Town House

And from Acosf we know that it was supposed to be empty.

“But why live in this dump, when the town house was sitting empty?” (Acosf)

but in Hofas when Rhys comes Bryce is taken to Hewn City prisons.

“What world is this?” Bryce rasped, the words gravelly. After Ruhn’s body double had introduced himself in that lovely, cozy foyer, he’d grabbed her hand. The strength of his grip, the brush of his calluses against her skin had been the only solid things as wind and darkness had roared around them, the world dropping away—and then there was only solid rock and dim lighting. She’d been brought to a palace carved beneath a mountain, and then down the narrow stairs to this dungeon. Where he’d pointed to the lone chair in the center of the room in silent command.

so we dont touch on the topic that the town house that was supposed to be empty is lived in and is smelling of roses and bread. So to me it looks like they are keeping the acotar plots in acotar and cc plots in cc. So they are not gonna reveal who lives in there in another series so...who lives there?

to me it looks like bryce falling into their world will be in the same timeline as acotar5. we will see through elain or azriel's(probably him) point of view what goes down.

b. the horn-fourth dread trove

In acosf we learn what they are.

Cassian nodded into the ensuing silence. Nesta found herself asking, “What’s the Dread Trove?” Amren’s eyes glowed with a remnant of her power. “The Cauldron Made many objects of power, long ago, forging weapons of unrivaled might. Most were lost to history and war, and when I went into the Prison, only three remained. At the time, some claimed there were four, or that the fourth had been Unmade, but today’s legends only tell of three.”

and in the same book we learn there is indeed a fourth one.

A fourth object lay on the altar, veiled in shadow. But she couldn’t make out more than a gleam of age-worn bone—

in hofas we learn that it is the horn. (ngl I hate this bc acosf timeline and hofas timeline of the past doesnt match so sarah def changed some stuff so..........)

And then she took the Trove for herself. Theia sat, enthroned, the Harp and Horn beside her, the Mask in her lap, and the Crown atop her head.

again goes with the whole same timeline thing. we are gonna learn through elain or azriel that fourth dread trove is tattooed on some girl from another world. Again imo this needs to be mentioned bc making dread troves a big part of nesta's book(and making them so dangerous) and in the next book acting as if some other girl having is not important?? doesnt make sense to me.

c. Cauldron and Ramiel

in hofas we learn that Cauldron sits on top of Ramiel.

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”

And from Acosf we know that nobody went to look at what lies under ramiel. Sure enough Eris says "secrets". Maybe like daglan secrets???

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.”

Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.”

and Vesperus says this in hofas.

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.” “There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly. “Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”

What if there is more to under ramiel than we thought? What if its a secret Daglan hideout? I went into detail and what could have inspired it in my Wild Hunt post if you want to read it.

also the red part in thw quote...cue in acowar elain:

Elain only turned toward the sunny windows again, the light dancing in her hair. “Will I hear the earthworms writhing through the soil? Or the stretching of roots? Will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?”(acowar)

we learn that Asteri corrupted the Cauldron in hofas. So this come in handy for the whole mating bond topic of this whole post so Im leaving it for that.

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.(hofas)

Also we know from acosf that Enalius tried to stop the "enemy" from reaching the stone on top of Ramiel.

Emerie’s eyes shone. “Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days. He found a natural archway of stone amongst the tangle of boulders and made that his bottleneck. He died in the end, but he held off the enemy long enough for our allies to reach us. This Rite is all to honor him. So much of the history has been lost, but the memory of his bravery remains.”

so probably they were trying to reach cauldron as it was on top of it. Or maybe the ramiel stone as it seems to heal too. I did go into whole detail in the post I linked about wild hunt. also in this one

Also in the first three acotar books we learn about Book of breathings.

In acomaf we learn that book of breathings was made to control the cauldron.

“When the Cauldron was made,” the carver interrupted, “its dark maker used the last of the molten ore to forge a book. The Book of Breathings. In it, written between the carved words, are the spells to negate the Cauldron’s power—or control it wholly. But after the War, it was split into two pieces. One went to the Fae, one to the six human queens. It was part of the Treaty, purely symbolic, as the Cauldron had been lost for millennia and considered mere myth. The Book was believed harmless, because like calls to like—and only that which was Made can speak those spells and summon its power. No creature born of the earth may wield it, so the High Lords and humans dismissed it as little more than a historical heirloom, but if the Book were in the hands of something reforged … You would have to test such a theory, of course—but … it might be possible.” (acomaf)

So...only made can use its magic.

Made = Feyre , Nesta and Elain

And later in the book we learn that the book is written in Holy Tongue—Leshon Hakodesh.

She stared and stared at the Book—as if it were a ghost, as if it were a miracle—and said, “It is the Leshon Hakodesh. The Holy Tongue.” Those quicksilver eyes shifted to Rhysand, and I realized she’d understood, too, why she’d gone. Rhysand said, “I heard a legend that it was written in a tongue of mighty beings who feared the Cauldron’s power and made the Book to combat it. Mighty beings who were here … and then vanished. You are the only one who can uncode it.” (acomaf)

Mighty beings: Daglan/Asteri

and in hofas we learn that...It is written in the language of the asteri.

Amren turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language—their language: “The glowing letters inked on her back … they’re the same as those in the Book of Breathings.” (hofas)

Bryce's tattoo is in the holy language.

And later in hofas Rigelus says that it was his people's language.

“I can teach you things you’ve never even dreamed of,” Rigelus promised. “The language inked on your back—it is our language. From our home world. I can teach you how to wield it. Any world might be open to you, Bryce Quinlan. Name the world, and it shall be yours.”(hofas)

So the book of breathings can control cauldron and it can "open any world" to who can wield it.

and in the first crescent city book...the book of breathings is in crescent city world. In jesiba's library.

Micah loomed over her. She stretched her arm out—toward the shelf. Her tingling fingers brushed over the titles. On the Divine Number; The Walking Dead; The Book of Breathings; The Queen with Many Faces …

do we need book of breathings back as it was mentioned it is in the language of the asteri?

Also in acowar we learn that cauldron has void in it.

when Feyre broke the Cauldron void was coming out of it.

I managed to stand. To take one step before I felt it. The … thing in the Cauldron. Or lack of it. It was lack and substance, absence and presence. And … it was leaking into the world.I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron… It was a void. But also not a void—a growth.It did not belong here. Belong anywhere. (acowar)

And then this reminded me of what Apollion said about void in hosab

The darkness paused. “You are impertinent as well. Do you not know where I come from? My father was the Void, the Being That Existed Before. Chaos was his bride and my dam. It is to them that we shall all one day return, and their mighty powers that run in my blood.”

@silverlinedeyes made a post about Void and Elain connection awhile back (that’s where my fascination with the void comes from lololl) > The void post

in Hofas we learn that Daglan/Asteri made the Cauldron a kill switch.

“Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron …” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

So in hofas we learned about thin places...

“No,” Aidas agreed. “But Helena knew that Midgard possessed its own magic. A raw, weaker sort of magic than that in her home world, but one that could be potent in high concentrations. She learned that it flowed across the world in great highways, natural conduits for magic.” “Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.” (hofas)

It is long but what we get from this is that

Ley lines are used for moving magic and...communication between worlds

Ley lines are joined by time and space and void

The mist is a big give away for thin places

you get the point. this all seem to be connected. thin places-cauldron-void. I talked more about this in this post

d. the middle and fionn

fionn died in the middle.

The image shifted to some sort of marsh—a bog. Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)

Acowar elain

Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses.

Acosf the middle

Islands of grass dotted the expanse, some so crowded with brambles that he could find no safe place to land. The tangles of thorns were a mockery of what might have been—as if Oorid had ever produced roses. Not a single flower bloomed.

Hofas bog when fionn died

Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)

So elain and the middle???

Also another point is...the avallen island was like the prison island because Helena hid 1/3 of theia's power there and once bryce claimed that power...the island went back to what it was.

Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was.

It was no longer gray and thrashing, but a vibrant, clear turquoise. And rising from the water, just as they had seen on the map Declan had found, were islands, large and small. Lush and green with life. Forests erupted on the island they stood on, soon joined by mountains and rivers.

So what if fionn did the same before he died? What if the middle is the way it is bc before he died...he bound himself to it so the magic of the land was bound?

And we need elain to free the land? As bryce did to avallen?

also Fionn's death goes so well with lightsinger describtion in acosf. also it ties to pelias.

Me and @silverlinedeyes have theorized before that Pelias might have been a lightsinger in this post.

In hofas we learn that Fionn died like this:

The image shifted to some sort of marsh—a bog. Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king

Lets break this down...

Fionn and his close people. One of them is his lover and the other is his general

In the bog

Asteri private game park

The last thing he sees is their faces after they betray him

Now how this ties to Pelias and Lightsingers...

This is how lightsingers are described in acosf:

“There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food.”

Now lets break this down...

Friendly faces

Bog

For sport...not food... private game park

The last thing you see is their faces

Another point is...Silene and Helena both have shadow and starborn power. so them getting the starborn from theia and shadow from fionn makes a lot of sense.

So fionn's death being similar to lightsinger describtion when fionn could have shadow powers...like azriel who is a shadowsinger...you know what I mean? kinda weird lol.

lightsinger gwyn theory @silverlinedeyes made wonderfull posts about it. You can find them >> Part1 and Part2

I have some lightsinger theories too if you want.

Gwyn’s song and Cauldron’s song(lightsinger theory)

Azriel bonus chapter “settled/settling”(Lightsinger theory)

Azriel’s Bonus Chapter “glowed quietly”(Lightsinger theory)

Acosf Chapter 52 - Lightsinger Theory-Sirens

Glow=Power(lightsinger theory)

e. wild hunt being released?? 

In cc3 bryce said this:

“I think it’s what the Prison—the island in the Fae’s home world—once was. When Theia ruled it, I mean. Before Silene fucked it all up. Maybe they’re linked in some way through being thin places and spilled over to each other a bit. Maybe back in that other world … maybe I woke up the land around the Prison, too.”

Maybe I woke up the land around the Prison too

And we know that Silene captured Daglan's pet in prison. 👀

One after another, I hunted monsters—the remaining pets of the Daglan—until many of the lowest rooms were filled with them. Until my once-beautiful home became a prison. Until even the land was so disgusted by the evil I’d gathered here that the islands shriveled and the earth became barren. The winged horses who hadn’t gone with my mother to Midgard, who had once flown in the skies, playing in the surf … they were nearly gone. Not a single living soul remained, except for the monstrosities in the mountain.

And from acosf we know that Lanthys was one of them and he was in...Wild Hunt.

“Oh, I do not think so,” Lanthys seethed. “I rode in the Wild Hunt before you were even a scrap of existence, witch from Oorid. I summoned the hounds and the world cowered at their baying. I galloped at the head of the Hunt, and Fae and beast bowed before us.”

So if bryce did indeed woke up the land around prison that means it could be all crumbled like it was in avallen. Are the inmates going to be free? Are the wild hunt going to be in acotar5? Are we getting a full on wild hunt plot?

Also this goes well with the books being in the same timeline so what happens in cc affects acotar in a bad way.

f. Gwydion and Truth-Teller

They are white and dark light—Alpha and Omega.(I have a post about this) which came true lol. my best theory....

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger— The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.

And whats important is that with her power bryce can unite them to open a portal to nowhere.

Polaris’s eyes widened as Bryce plunged the blades into her chest. And as those blades thrust through skin and bone, the star in Bryce’s own chest flared out to meet them. It collided with the blades, and both sword and knife blazed bright, as if white-hot. The light extended up through Bryce’s hands, her arms, her body, turning her incandescent— Into a star. A sun.

that portal to nowhere is...void.

A portal to nowhere. To a black hole. Wasn’t that the unholy power that Apollion possessed? The power of the Void. The antithesis of light.

so this connects with Cauldron and it having void in it too.

as bryce collects Theia's power that was parted into three parts she starts to realize it is taking a touch of darkness...

Bryce rolled her eyes, but for a heartbeat, Hunt wondered if Thanatos was right: Bryce had explained how the prism in the Autumn King’s office had revealed her light to now be laced with darkness, as if it had become the fading light of day, of twilight—

And we go to that scene...

With a prayer to Cthona, she sent twin beams of light arcing around the prisms, shooting straight into them.Twin bursts of that light flared from either prism, gunning for each other. Bands of light falling into darkness, her power stripped to its most elemental, basic form. They shot for each other, and where they met, light and darkness and darkness and light slamming into each other—Bryce stepped into the explosion in the heart of it. Stepped into her power.It lit her up from the inside, lit up her very blood. Her hair drifted above her head, pens and papers and other office detritus flowing upward with it. Such light and darkness—the power lay in the meeting of the two of them. She understood it now, how the darkness shaped the light.

And the purple highlighted part...it is exactly the same as the six pointed star.

Ithan angled his head. “A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center. “It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

And if we go by the elriel scene...

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

Can you see the connection?

Also that elemental part in bryce's scene. we learn about that in acosf.

Cassian forced himself to sit perfectly still as Rhys dragged a hand through his black hair. “Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.”

could that be important in acotar? Having elemental magic?

also...TT can unmade things. could this come in handy in mating bond plot?

“The Starsword is Made, as you called it.” He waved an idle hand, sparks at his fingertips. “The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”

and now we have both of them in Acotar.

Nesta lifted her head. “So?” “So I want you to take the Starsword.” Bryce held the blade between them. “Gwydion—whatever you call it here. The age of the Starborn is over on Midgard. It ends with me.” “I don’t understand.” But Bryce began backing toward the portal, taking Hunt’s hand, and smiled again at the female, at her mate, at their world, as the Northern Rift began to close. “I think that eight-pointed star was tattooed on you for a reason. Take that sword and go figure out why.”

as we all know...Elain already used TT.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

And we know from Bryce that knife has some kind of shadow powers.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

elain...shadow...as I mentioned above fionn possibly had shadow powers as well. So it all connects. Because Fionn had Gwydion. Enalius had TT. it all seems to line up.

okay we are done with crossover part. I think. I added as much as I could. moving onto another topic.

Im adding narben as a topic here bc we dont have much to go on but I made a deep dive for it in this post from myth connections and all if you want to read it.

Also side not...narben means scar. Azriel's scars....thats all your honor.

2. Beron

But no one had been able to decide which was the bigger threat for them: Briallyn and Koschei, or Beron’s willingness to ally with them. While the Night Court had been trying to make the peace permanent, the bastard had been doing his best to start another war.

What’s better way to star a war over a female who is a cauldron made seer and also his son’s mate but doesn’t want to be with him?

And from Azriel bonus chapter we know that Blood duel is an autumn court tradition.

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” "That's an Autumn Court tradition." The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases.

rare cases: for a cauldron made seer

Cassian said, “So we’ve got them on one front, and Beron here, ready and eager to go into war with Briallyn so he might expand his own territory after the carnage halts.”

he wants to expand his territory

Cassian unpacked each word. Beron had tortured his own son for information, rather than thanking the Mother for returning him. But Eris had held out. Fed Beron another lie.

The male had been raised with every luxury and privilege —on paper. But who knew what terrors Beron had inflicted upon him? Cassian knew Beron had murdered Lucien’s lover. If the High Lord of Autumn had been willing to do that, what wouldn’t he do?

Beron is so power hungry that he tortured his own son and he killed his son's lover because she was lesser-fae?

What would he do if he learns that Elain rejected the bond with Lucien because of a lesser-fae(illyrians are lesser fae)?

He already wants war and this would be his reason.

and we know from eris that Beron might as well make a new allience with Koschei after Briallyn is dead.

“Maybe not.” Eris shifted on his feet, and grimaced again. “But you and yours have more important things to think about than ancient history. My father is furious that his ally is dead, but he’s not deterred. Koschei remains in play, and Beron might very well be stupid enough to establish an alliance with him, too. I hope that whatever Morrigan is doing in Vallahan will counteract the damage my father will unleash.”

so...beron. lol.

3. Koschei

Elain already had visions about him in acowar.

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.” “A bird of burning feathers,” I said. “Firebird by day,” Rhys mused, “woman by night … So she’s held captive by this sorcerer-lord?” Elain shook her head. “I don’t know. I hear her—her screaming. With rage. Utter rage …” She shuddered. Mor leaned forward. “Do you know why the other queens cursed her—sold her to him?” Elain studied the table. “No. No—that is all mist and shadow.” Rhys blew out a breath. “Can you sense where she is?” “There is … a lake. Deep in—in the continent, I think. Hidden amongst mountains and ancient forests.” Elain’s throat bobbed. “He keeps them all at the lake.” “Other women like her?” “Yes—and no. Their feathers are white as snow. They glide across the water—while she rages through the skies above it.”

and in acosf we learn that Koschei wants free of his lake but we don't know his other plans

“And all Koschei wants is to be free from his lake?” Rhys asked Azriel. But Amren answered. “No one really knows the full scope of the Trove’s powers. Beyond freeing him from his lake, Koschei may very well know something about the Trove that we don’t —some greater power that manifests when all three are united.”

and he might know things about the trove that nobody knows.

And in hofas we learned this about the harp:

She gave us what protection her magic could offer, transferring it from her body into our own using the Harp. Another secret she had learned from her long-ago masters: that the Harp could not only move its bearer through the world, but move things from one place to another—even move magic from her soul to ours.

Move things from one place to another—even move magic from her soul to ours

and in most koschei tales there is a thing about his...death.

The most common feature of tales involving Koschei is a spell which prevents him from being killed. He hides "his death" inside nested objects to protect it. For example, his death may be hidden in a needle that is hidden inside an egg, the egg is in a duck, the duck is in a hare, the hare is in a chest, the chest is buried or chained up on a far island. Usually he takes the role of a malevolent rival figure, who competes for (or entraps) a male hero's love interest.

maybe he wanted the dread troves for the purpose of his death? Can I bet that koschei moved his "death" from his body using the harp?

Also in that elain quote from acowar elain mentions a box.

While rereading the acotar books I noticed something.

Book of Breathings is described as a box.

The box would be heavy—and cold. Who are you, who are you, who are you— I flexed my fingers and cracked my neck. I am summer; I am sea and sun and green things. “Come on, come on,” Amren murmured. Above, water trickled over the stones. Who are you, who are you, who are you— I am Tarquin; I am High Lord; I am your master. The box quieted. As if that were answer enough. I snatched the box off the pedestal, the metal biting into my hands, the power an oily smear through my blood. An ancient, cruel voice hissed: Liar. And the door slammed shut.(Acomaf)

The box—the Book—was silent. Then it said, Like calls to like. “Open,” I gritted out. Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade—that is the cycle. Like calls to like.(Acomaf)

And we have Koschei's onyx box which we know from Elain. And koschei is a...sorcerer.

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.” (acowar)

so what if it is not a box but a book???

4. Mating bond

Since acowar this has been a question. There are a lot of theories and idea about how sarah would go with this. True mates. Two mating bond. Some of us think elriel has carranam bond... There is so many theories

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. “Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

Feyre was the first to question the mating bond between Elain and Lucien. This scene is important because she is questioning the mating bond while looking at Azriel and Elain.

And we again see in the bonus that azriel questions the mating bond.

Rhys's power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. "I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you," he snarled. "Including her mate." Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

And we see through out the books that Elain and Lucien are not even getting closer. Both of them are uncomfortable with the mating bond.

He hadn’t mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay, or to go. And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?” “I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort. “And I came up here because Feyre said I should. I need to kill a few hours before I’m to meet with her and Rhys. She thought I might enjoy seeing Nesta at work.”

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Also I mentioned above how TT can unmade things...so can it unmade a mating bond? also it ties into Cauldron too bc....as we know it is corrupted by the asteri. @offtorivendell made a post about how asteri might have messed with mating bonds.

Also lets not forget this iconic quote.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"  Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"  Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak  the words aloud.

I'm gonna drop a few mating bond theories in here if you want to read it. Elain and Lucien mating bond is a spell by @icedflames

True mates theory by @silverlinedeyes

mating bond and bridges by @silverlinedeyes with my reblog.

@offtorivendell has many posts about mating bond you can find it here

Would a mate know, would a mate feel— by me

“Through love, all is possible” by me

5. Elain and Azriel’s powers

as I mentioned above...fionn could have a shadow power like azriel.

This is just a speculation but in hofas Silene gave this information.

My mother eventually trusted only Helena and myself to seek the truth. She knew we could be of great use to her, because we bore the shadows as well as starlight.

Helena and Silene both have shadow and starlight power.

Theia= starborn

So they got the starlight power from Theia. They must have gotten their shadow power from Fionn then? Bc he is their father.

So this made me think...in mythology fionn is a seer.

Fionn mac Cumhaill often anglicized Finn McCool or MacCool, is a hero in Irish mythology, as well as in later Scottish and Manx folklore. He is the leader of the Fianna bands of young roving hunter-warriors, as well as being a seer and poet. He is said to have a magic thumb that bestows him with great wisdom. He is often depicted hunting with his hounds Bran and Sceólang, and fighting with his spear and sword. The tales of Fionn and his fiann form the Fianna Cycle or Fenian Cycle (an Fhiannaíocht), much of it narrated by Fionn's son, the poet Oisín.

So what if...fionn in acotar was also a seer? What if that's how elain and azriel are also connected?

Bc that would mean...

Fionn: a seer and shadow powers

Elain: a seer

Azriel: shadowsinger

Is that how they are connected? Is that how elain could use the tt? 👀👀

Bc we know tt and gwydion are twin to each other. And Gwydion was Fionn's sword. Tt was his friend's—Enalius.

And in acowar elain used tt. Maybe bc that's the reason why. Maybe being a seer has some kind of connection to it. Just like being a starborn is connected to wielding the gwydion and its powers.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

And we know from Bryce that knife has some kind of shadow powers.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

As we know Elain is a seer. But there is more to her powers than just being a seer.

@wingedblooms made a post about how when it's mentioned it's always in plural form. >> Elain’s Powers

And with her seer powers she can be a good spy and we can see that Sarah hinted this acosf.

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

the red part I highlighted in this has a parallel with Azriel you can find the post here >> azriel/elain parallel

And we know that N+C are trained by Azriel.

Amren, at least, knocked this time before entering. Nuala and Cerridwen, who had finished setting combs of mother-of-pearl into my hair, took one look at the delicate female and vanished into puffs of smoke. “Skittish things,” Amren said, her red lips cutting a cruel line. “Wraiths always are.” “Wraiths?” I twisted in the seat before the vanity. “I thought they were High Fae.” “Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.” I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.” “Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?” “I thought they answered to Rhys.” “They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.”

another thing is that we know azriel is good at keeping secret and here we have feyre pointing out elain has him beat

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping."

also now that we have crossover with CC books, there are mystics and it looks like Elain's seer powers and mystics are very similar one another. I talked about that in the post that I'd linked. Also with Elain's seer powers I made a theory about how the timeline could work if Sarah took inspo from a poem from the Norse Mythology called Völuspa. Another thing is there is a magic called Seidr in Norse mythology which I think Sarah might have of gotten inspiration for Elain's powers. It also connects with Vassa(and a little bit crossover) and her possible plotline.

I think this is all I got.

if you read this much....THANKS.

bye now. :)