#I’ve not felt such a feeling of excitement from a book like that in a while
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GMMTV 2025 Tier List
Thanks to @rythyme for the template. You can make your own here.
Overall, I was very pleased with this year’s line-up. I think it’s the most solid line-up we’ve seen from GMMTV, possibly ever, and the people complaining about it are simply never going to be satisfied by anything GMMTV does.
A break-down of my S and A tiers can be found below the cut:
Ticket to Heaven (S): I was raised in a Southern Baptist church which, for those unfamiliar with the different sects of Christianity in American, is basically a cult. I have a lot of unprocessed and unhealed religious trauma that still fucks me up to this day, but for some reason, I gravitate towards shows like this that show gay characters overcoming the struggles I’m still fighting. I’m very excited for this one and I think it’s perfectly cast. It’s giving me ITSAY meets Your Name Engraved Herein vibes and will probably make me cry, but I’m not mad about it.
Girl Rules (S): Toxic Yuri? Yes, please! To be quite honest, I’ve never been a huge MilkLove fan, but this trailer totally changed my mind. I think I just haven’t vibed with the characters they’ve played in the past because Love in this??? Oh my god. She’s going to kill me. All of the girls were hot and horny. What more could you ask for?
Dare You to Death (S): Listen. Do y’all remember that Amazon show Panic? I was obsessed with it for no obvious reason because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t even gay, but this is giving me that and I literally cannot wait. I also adore that they’ve finally let JoongDunk switch up their roles so that Joong is the one that actually gets to emote this time because boy does he look pretty when he smiles.
Cat for Cash (A): Oh my god it’s so soft 😭 The found family feels are getting to me. I think it’s very obvious from this trailer that they only have concepts of a script right now, but I have high hopes that this could be something really special. P’Au was the director of MSP which is one of my favorite BLs of all time. He’s been stuck doing Japanese adaptations this year, which I don’t think he likes or excels at, but I’m excited to see him tackle an original script in the genre he’s most comfortable with. He’s P’Aof’s protege and their styles are very similar.
Love You Teacher (A): This is my “hear me out” of the day. Age regression isn’t a trope I’m familiar with and I do have some reservations, but boy did this trailer make me feel things. If this was just a basic amnesia plot, it would probably be S tier for me. I think it was perfectly cast and I’m willing to reserve judgment until I see the finished product. P’Dome of Peaceful Property fame is directing, so I’m expecting that same brand of “romcom” where it’s actually not a romcom at all and instead makes you cry every single episode.
Only Friends: Dream On (A): I was going to put this in B tier, but EarthMix fucking on stage in an empty theater bumped this up to an A for me. I fully expect to enjoy this version of Only Friends more than the original because the original stressed me the fuck out. This time, I have no skin in the game and can just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Melody of Secrets (A): I’ve watched this trailer like four times and I still have no clue what’s happening, but I like the vibes. ForceBook proved in Peaceful Property that they can take on a serious script and I’ve always felt that Book especially is highly underrated as an actor. I’m excited to see them branch out and try something different.
Tagging a few people whose tier lists I would love to see, but feel free to ignore: @doublel27, @mbjw, @wangxianinventedromance, @elliebirdwrites, @khaopybara, @moonkhao, @boozles, @scrumptiousstuffs
And everyone else please feel free to participate and tag me in yours as well!
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very classic but summoning a demon to fuck you and he gets a little obsessed 🙏
Imagine Himbo Demon was one day just casually going about his business, torturing a mortal with the agonizing act of small talk when suddenly a flash of white explodes across his vision. The next thing he knows he’s standing in a magical circle of your own design and he can’t get out.
You ask if he’s an incubus and that’s when he notices the book in your hand, ‘How to Summon Incubi With Your Friends: The Party Guide.’ He also looks you over and notices how painstakingly pretty you are and thinks… he could be an incubus.
That night he has what he claims as the best sex of his eternal life, no doubt about it. The way your body moved as you rode him within an inch of his life made him swear he was being taken back to heaven. The way you tasted sweeter than the finest nectar till it burned permanently into his senses. Every last bit of you was addicting.
When the summoning spell’s time was coming to a close, the demon actually felt an ache at the idea of leaving you and your sweet, sweet holes. He tried to reach for you once more but with a flash of white he was back in hell. His heart and his cock aching for you.
The minute he can he’s scouring hell’s library for the book he saw in your grasp. He reads it like a man possessed, ironically, looking for the spell you must’ve used.
As he’s reading the book, an Incubus just so happens to look over at him. Sensing eyes on him he looks up and their gazes meet. The Incubus reads the cover of the book he has and his eyes widen. He begins slowly inching away from Himbo Demon before turning and quickly rushing off.
Himbo Demon tilts his head, curious as to why the Incubus gave such a reaction. But after a moment of brief confusion, he goes back to reading the book. His eyes brightening as he finds the spell.
That night he clumsily performs the spell. His mind foggy with lust. His cock red, angry, and dripping with precum as he thinks about drowning in your holes, lapping up your essence like it’s the only food he’ll ever need and then fucking you until you’re raw and swollen, only to soothe any pain with his tongue.
Himbo demon growls, reaching down and lazily stroking his cock with one hand and performing the spell with the other. Somehow by a true miracle, it works. He appears back in the same fading circle he appeared in last time. His eyes ignite with feral need and his gaze flickers around the low-lit room before a door opens and you come waltzing in wearing nothing but a towel.
“Miss me, baby?” He snarls in excitement, knowing now he has a way to keep coming back to you.
You yelp, jerking back against the wall in surprise. Not expecting the demon to be here again but you’re not exactly upset about it either. Himbo Demon smiles wickedly, but in truth he’s just so happy to see you! He moves at the speed of lightning and he’s on you in an instant. His tall lithe body caging you in against the wall. You exhale shakily, your body tingling with need and your belly churning with arousal as you glance down at his fat cock bobbing and dribbling with his own arousal.
The scent of you floods Himbo Demon’s senses and he growls, fangs flashing in the moonlight that peaks in from the window. Feeling beyond thrilled that the spell worked. That he can go to you whenever he feels like it now. So long as you keep the summoning circle up, that is. But he’s too focused on your new easy access to even try and realize that.
“Don’t worry, sweet human. I’ve found my way back to you and your glorious body. From now on we shall never be parted and I can properly fuck your weak mortal shell ragged as much as I desire. And there is much… much desire,” Himbo Demon rasps heatedly, looking down at you with a fire in his eyes.
Before you can even think to respond, the demon is shredding your towel into two, revealing your body to him in all its glory. He barely takes the time to appreciate the view and suddenly he’s pressing into, rubbing his length along the height of your belly.
And you know this is the start of a wild adventure. One you’re sure is bound to last more than another night.
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster lover#monster lust#exophelia#teratophillia#monster fluff#monster romance#monster fic#monster imagine#monster bf#monster boyfriend#demon smut#demon fucker#demon lover#demon boi#demon man#demon boy#demons#demon#demon oc#demon bf#demon boyfriend#yandere smut#yandere demon x reader#demon x reader#demon x human#demon x you#monster x gn reader#monster x reader
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bro Project Hail Mary is so fucking good. I’m a little under halfway through it and I love it. I couldn’t put it down once I got to Rocky. I fucking love him
I never read sci fi so it’s been really refreshing. What a great book so far
#psy's no punctuation posts#reading tag#I’ve not felt such a feeling of excitement from a book like that in a while#Ryland is isolated and stuck only with his memories#and he knows he can’t come back to earth .. he’s dead after he figures out what’s happening#and then an alien ship shows up and I was like HOLY SHIT#like idk why but that got me good I was hooked#i was already really into it but I’m totally hooked now#i don’t know WHAT exactly is clicking so hard with this book but I really really like it#it’s just an awesome book idk KDND
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YOU’RE MATES???
“Two weeks?” Your brother asked.
“I know it’s a lot, but I need a break. And I want to make sure I actually feel better by the end of it. I might get back earlier, but I want two weeks in case I need it,” you answered.
“You should have told me that you felt overwhelmed, Y/N. I could have helped you. I still can help you.”
“I know, but I want to fix this on my own.”
Rhys hesitated.
“Okey, you have two weeks. But make sure you give me some signs that you are alive every few days, okay?”
You nodded and hugged him.
“My two best spies needing a break at the same time,” Rhys continued. “What will I do?”
You froze, but tried your best not to show it. There’s no way he’s realized it now.
“Azriel is also on break?” you asked, doing your best to sound surprised.
“Yeah, he also said he needed two weeks, maybe more,” you fought a blush, “he didn’t give any reason for why, but I would never say no to that.”
“Weird,” was all you replied before you made a bad excuse to leave his office.
You closed the door and immediately winnowed to the cabin furthest away from Velaris. It was the cabin that was used the least by your family, but it was your favorite. You also knew that when the two weeks were over, the smell would linger for a long time, so you didn’t want it to bother your family with it.
You felt excitement spreading through your body as you made your way to the kitchen. With your hair set up and your mother’s old apron on, you started making an apple pie.
It didn’t take very long to make the pie, so you soon sat at the kitchen table, tapping your foot on the floor as you waited.
And waited.
And then you finally heard the door open and in walked your beautiful, sweet, majestic, mysterious and wonderful mate, your Azriel, ready for you to accept the bond.
********************************
It took exactly 48 hours before your brother reached out and asked if you were alive.
“I’m fine, Rhysie, just enjoying the peace and quiet. I’ve read two books so far and started a new crochet project.”
“And you’re remembering to eat?”
“Yes, I’m well fed,” you answered.
“Then I’m happy,” Rhys finished with and left your mind.
Most of it was a lie of course. You were well fed, both you and Azriel had brought lots of leftovers so that you quickly could heat up something when you became hungry enough to take a break from eating each other.
But you had not even opened the books or picked up the yarn you always kept at the cabin.
“He’s worried?” Azriel asked.
“Yup, but he’ll be alright,” you said as you moved to kiss your mate once more. “And I’m extremely alright.”
Your mate met your kisses. You were straddling him on the couch with minimal clothing, doing your best to take a break from ravishing each other…the break didn’t last very long.
********************************
Two more days went by and your brother took contact once more.
“You know I told you to give me signs you are alive, right? I don’t like that I have to reach out to you.”
“You worry too much,” you answered pretending to sound annoyed. “I’m doing good. Just relaxing.”
“You’re not going crazy being alone?”
You had to hold back a little laugh. He obviously didn’t know that you were far from alone, being embraced in a cocoon of your mates large wings as you took a nap.
Luckily for you, you didn’t mind spending time away from people. You didn’t leave often, but it had happened multiple times before and Rhys knew that.
“I enjoy being alone sometimes, you know that.”
“Yes, but-“
“I’ll come home early if I need to,” you cut him off by saying.
“Okay, okay,” your brother said and left your mind.
“He hasn’t reached out to me yet,” Azriel told you. His voice was heavy with sleep and you spent some time admiring how cute he looks when he’s tired.
“He wants to give you space, I’m sure he’ll reach out to you soon.”
“I don’t mind, really,” he said. “I’m perfectly happy talking with you and you only.”
You grinned and nap time was over.
********************************
“I have to tell Rhys I’m alive,” you told your mate in between kisses.
“Right now?” He sighed.
“He has taken contact at 8 o’clock the other times and he’ll probably do that today too,” you explained and left his lap, but stayed beside him, playing with his hair.
You brushed your brother’s mental shields and he immediately let you in.
“I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m aliveeee,” you sang in a little song.
“Good, thank you,” Rhys replied, not joining your joking mood.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” he told you. You were about to call him a liar when he continued. “I just miss you.”
You started to feel bad for lying to and leaving your brother. Azriel picked up on your emotions and started hugging you.
“I miss you too Rhysie, but I really need this,” you told him.
“I know, little one. Thanks for taking contact.”
Rhys closed his mental shields and you were forced out of his mind.
You were about to start talking to Azriel, when he let go of you and silenced you with a finger in front of your lips. He stayed like that for a few seconds and you realized your brother must have taken contact with him.
“He just asked if I’m alive and alright,” Azriel explained.
“Good,” you replied. “Then we can continue our activities.”
You leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his eyes, his nose and lastly his lips. After each kiss, both of your smiles grew larger.
********************************
You were making dinner the next time you felt your brother’s claws on your shields. You carefully moved away from Azriel’s embrace and kisses and took a sip from your glass of water as you opened your mental shields.
“I know why you’re gone,” Rhys said before you could greet him.
You spit out your water and Azriel looked at you with shocked eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied trying not to sound nervous.
Your brother spent a long time before he continued.
“I needed the book on Illyrian history for a up coming meeting.” Your heart sunk. “I saw on the library card that you borrowed it last, so I thought I should look in your room. I know I should have asked, but I figured you didn’t want for me to bother you, so I just went inside.”
“I’m sorry, Rhys. We just-“
“I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable telling me. If you two are dating and you’re happy, I’m happy. You could have just told me if you wanted a couple’s vacation.”
“I’ll explain everything when we get home, I promise.”
“Just enjoy each other’s company. I won’t tell the others.”
“Are you mad?”
He again waited a little before he answered. “No, I’m not mad. But I’m definitely fighting Azriel when you get home.”
Both of you laughed.
“I’m looking forward to seeing that,” you answered. “See you soon.”
“See you.”
Azriel looked at you with wary eyes.
“He knows about the relationship, but not the bond.” When you felt and saw the anxiety spread through his body, you added “he’s not mad, but he will fight you when you get home.”
You closed the gap between you two and caressed his cheeks. “He’s happy as long as I’m happy and if I haven’t already made that clear, I’m the happiest I have ever been.”
You stood on your toes and kissed him. He kissed you back, lifted you up and sat you on the counter.
He picked up a plate and filled it with food and gave it to you.
“From this day I’ll give you food. It doesn’t matter if you made it or I or someone else, I’m giving you the food.”
You looked confused at him. “why?”
“We are mates, equals in every way. You had to feed me to accept the bond, to show that we’re equals I’ll feed you from now.” He kissed you as soon as he finished talking.
“I love that, mate,” you kissed him back. “It’ll be our thing.”
********************************
“Not going to ask if I’m alive?” You asked your brother two days later. “It’s 5 minutes past 8! I started to worry!”
“I now know that you aren’t alone, I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
You failed to mention that he had interrupted you and Azriel having sex more than once during the 12 days you had been at the cabin.
“When are you coming home?” Rhys asked. “I’m starting to go crazy with Cassian and Mor bickering around me all the time.”
“Two days time I think,” you replied. “So you’ll have to survive without us a little longer.”
“It’s so weird that you two are dating.”
“We might be a little more than just dating,” you told him and immediately left his mind.
You felt him claw on your mental shields multiple times, but you didn’t let him in.
********************************
“Wow,” you said in awe as you looked at your mate’s shadows.
“What?” Azriel asked. He was seated on the couch.
“Have they always looked like that?”
“Looked like what?”
You walked closer to your mate, straddled him as you tried to get a closer look of his shadows.
“It’s like they’re a little violet.”
Azriel commanded his shadows to stand before him. His eyes widened and were soon at the same size as yours.
His shadows did indeed have a little violet tint to them. Not a lot, but if you looked very closely, you could see it.
“I didn’t know they could do that,” you said. Still looking at the shadows. “They’re beautiful.”
“I love it,” Azriel said. His eyes met yours. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you replied.
********************************
The two of you walked hand in hand into the townhouse. After having been sneaking around for two years, showing your relationship felt a little weird.
However, being mated mates felt as though everything was as it was supposed to be. It was 40 years since the mating bond had snapped, so it was about time that you accepted it.
Your brother had previously told you that the rest of your family would be at the townhouse that evening, so you decided to just show up as mates.
Together you opened the doors to the living room.
“Finally! You’ve been gone too-“ Mor stopped talking. Her eyes looked from you to Azriel to your hands. “Holy shit.”
You just laughed and held Azriel’s hand a little tighter.
“YOU’RE MATES???????” Cassian yelled at you.
“How didn’t we know that?”
Your eyes found your brother’s. He wore an amused grin and just shook his head.
“It’s almost like both of them are spies,” Rhys said.
“Or that you three just never spent enough time with both of them together,” Amren spoke. “They were quite obvious at times.”
You didn’t know for sure that Amren knew about the two of you, but you weren’t surprised to know that she did.
“You have to tell me everything!” Mor said as she started to move over to you.
You started to back out of the room. “I think I’m going to take a bath first,” you said, met Azriel’s eyes and started to leave for your bedroom.
Azriel luckily understood what you meant and followed you in a way Mor later would describe as “a love sick (but also very horny) puppy”.
********************************
“Please don’t,” Azriel begged you.
“I told you I would do it if you continued to act too possessive,” you just told him.
“I’m not possessive.”
“You hissed at Rhys…,” you said a little annoyed. “My brother.”
He knew that he had lost the discussion and you didn’t waist anytime spraying him with your new spray bottle filled with ice cold water.
A few meters away from you, Cassian and Rhys stood laughing at the two of you. They would never let him forget it and even after 500 years, they still sometimes threatens him with “getting Y/N’s spray bottle”.
#acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel x rhysand's sister#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#rhysand’s sister
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it’s been a long time coming ; spencer reid.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: back in high school you used to have a crush on spencer and now you got to work together.
warnings: nothing really but english isn’t my first language so it might have some writing mistakes (sorry) and i didn’t really like how i finished this so if you guys like i might write a second part.
Your first day at the BAU was a whirlwind. As the newest profiler, you felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. You had spent weeks preparing for this moment, but nothing could have truly prepared you for the reality of stepping into the office for the first time. The team welcomed you warmly, though you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer brilliance of your new colleagues.
Spencer Reid, in particular, caught your attention. He was everything you remembered from high school: intelligent, slightly awkward, and undeniably endearing. Despite your attempt to stay composed, you felt the same fluttering nerves you had back then.
When Spencer introduced himself, you found it hard to maintain eye contact. “Hi, I’m Spencer,” he said with a friendly smile. “Welcome to the team.”
You managed a nervous smile. “Thank you, Spencer. It’s nice to meet you.”
Spencer’s smile widened, and he seemed eager to make a connection. “If you need any help with the databases or anything else, just let me know.”
You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
As the day progressed, you tried to focus on your work, but every time you glanced at Spencer, your heart raced. You could tell he was making an effort to be friendly and supportive, but you were too nervous to engage with him properly. It was clear he noticed your reluctance but didn’t push it, giving you space.
⌢୨୧⌢
The days following your first encounter were a struggle. Spencer’s attempts to be friendly and helpful often ended in awkward silences. He would offer to explain things you might not understand or bring you coffee, but every time you tried to respond, you stumbled over your words or offered a rushed, one-word reply.
One morning, Spencer approached you at the coffee machine. “Hey, I’ve been reading this fascinating book on criminal psychology. Would you like to borrow it? I think you’d find it really interesting.”
You forced a smile, feeling the familiar flush creep up your cheeks. “Thanks, but I have a lot of research to catch up on.”
Spencer’s face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered. “No problem. If you change your mind, just let me know.”
Later that week, you found yourself alone in the break room when Spencer came in, carrying a stack of papers. “I noticed you were working on the same case. I thought you might need some additional resources,” he said, placing the papers on the table.
You took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to speak. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you quickly retreated to your desk, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration at your own behavior.
Despite Spencer’s best efforts to reach out, you continued to shy away, struggling to hide your feelings. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to interact with him; rather, every interaction left you more flustered than the last.
⌢୨୧⌢
The day came when Hotch assigned you and Spencer to interview the mother of a victim. You were grateful for the change of pace but also anxious about spending extended time with Spencer. As you drove together to the victim’s home, you focused on the task at hand, trying to push your nerves aside.
Spencer’s attempts to make conversation during the drive were met with brief, hesitant responses from you. “So, how are you finding the BAU so far?” he asked, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you.
You shrugged, feeling the weight of your own silence. “It’s… it’s good.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed. “You know, you seem a bit distant. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done something to upset you.”
Your heart sank at his words. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding me,” Spencer explained. “Whenever I try to be helpful or friendly, you… well, you seem uncomfortable. I assumed maybe I did something wrong.”
Feeling a pang of guilt, you decided it was time to explain. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Actually, it’s the opposite.”
Spencer’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? What do you mean?”
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “Well, it’s a bit complicated. We knew each other in high school. We even had a few classes together.”
Spencer looked puzzled. “Really? I don’t remember you from high school. I think I would have remembered.”
You nodded, your cheeks flushing with a mix of nostalgia and embarrassment. “I actually had a crush on you back then and i guess now that we’re working together, those old feelings are resurfacing, and it makes me a bit awkward around you.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Wait, you mean you had a crush on me!?”
You nodded, a soft blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Yes, I did. I thought you were incredibly smart and cute. I was too shy to ever talk to you. I remember how you used to come into class with these fascinating books and how you were always so focused. I just thought you were amazing.”
Spencer’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “I was so awkward back then. I mean, I’m still a bit weird, but not as much, I hope. I didn’t think anyone would ever see me that way, especially back then.”
You shook your head with a smile. “No, I thought you were adorable. You were this brilliant, quirky guy who seemed to be in his own world, and I found that really endearing.”
Spencer looked at you, clearly flustered. “I had no idea you felt that way. I always thought you were avoiding me because you didn’t like me.”
You smiled reassuringly. “No, I just didn’t know how to act around you. I didn’t want to make things awkward.”
Spencer’s mind raced as he processed your words. “Wow, I’m kind of speechless. I never imagined…”
Before he could continue, you gently cut him off. “Let’s just focus on the interview for now. It’s important that we get this right.”
Spencer nodded, still processing the revelation. “Right, of course.”
As you both approached the victim’s mother’s home, the air between you felt lighter, charged with a new understanding. Spencer, though still surprised, was clearly intrigued and more attentive than ever. The tension that had once been present seemed to dissolve, replaced by a newfound curiosity and connection between you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#mgg x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fanfiction
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BROTHERS BESTFRIEND!nicholas x BESTFRIENDS SISTER!reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
A/N, thank you angels for 100 followers. i love you guys !!🪽
SUMMARY, Nicholas was aware of the interest his best-friend's younger sister had for him. Therefore, he enters her room late at night and fulfills her wish.
WARNINGS, none
Nicholas had always been comfortable at Jake’s house. It was the kind of place where he could be himself, where time seemed to slow down, and all of life’s little stresses drifted away. Today was no different—he and Jake had spent the afternoon lounging on the couch, watching movies, and playing video games. Eventually, Jake disappeared downstairs to grab snacks, leaving Nicholas alone.
As he wandered through the hallway, something drew him toward her room. The door was slightly open, just enough for him to see the soft glow of fairy lights spilling out. Jake’s younger sister, was always around when Nicholas visited, but lately, he’d noticed things were... different. She seemed to linger longer in conversations, her gaze lingering on him with a look he couldn’t quite place. Jake had even joked about it. "You know, she kinda likes you," Jake had said with a laugh.
Now, standing in front of her door, that comment echoed in his mind. Curiosity tugged at him, and before he could overthink it, he knocked lightly.
“Yeah?” came her soft voice from inside.
Nicholas pushed the door open a little more. She was sitting on her bed, her back resting against the headboard, a book in her hands. She looked up, her face brightening as she saw him. The soft lighting from the fairy lights gave the room a warm, almost dreamlike atmosphere.
“Hey, Nick,” she said with a shy smile. “Looking for Jake?”
He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. “No, he’s downstairs. I just... saw the light and thought I’d say hi.”
She closed her book and placed it on the nightstand beside her bed, her smile lingering. “Hi, then.”
There was something in her voice—an invitation, maybe. He wasn’t sure, but the way she looked at him with those wide, expressive eyes made his pulse quicken a little. Hesitating for just a moment, he stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed, trying not to feel the awkwardness that came with it.
Her room smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral, and everything about it—about her—felt soft and calming. He glanced around, taking in the books on her shelf, the posters of her favorite bands, and the string lights that cast a soft glow over everything.
“So,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “What are you reading?”
She glanced at the book and shrugged. “Nothing too exciting. Just something for school.” Her eyes flickered back to him, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. There was something unsaid hanging in the air, something both of them felt but neither had the courage to speak about.
He could see it in the way her gaze lingered on his face, how her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. And then, in a soft, almost nervous voice, she asked, “Nick... do you ever feel like... you’re missing something? Like, there’s something right in front of you but you don’t know how to reach for it?”
Her question caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about herself or something else, but the vulnerability in her voice made his heart skip a beat.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice softer than before. “I know what you mean.”
The air between them grew thick with a tension Nicholas hadn’t expected. It wasn’t uncomfortable—it was something else. Something more charged, something he hadn’t been ready to face until now.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushing just slightly. She bit her lower lip, looking at him through her lashes, almost as if she was deciding whether to say something else. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I... I think I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, Nick.”
Her words hung in the air, delicate and fragile. For a moment, neither of them moved. Nicholas felt his chest tighten, not with discomfort, but with a strange excitement. He had known, deep down, that something had been growing between them, but hearing her say it made it real in a way he hadn’t expected.
“I wasn’t sure if you noticed,” she added quickly, her cheeks now a deeper shade of pink.
Nicholas leaned in slightly, closing some of the distance between them, his heart beating a little faster. “I think... I’ve noticed.”
Her eyes met his, wide and searching. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, but the silence wasn’t awkward—it was full of possibilities. Nicholas felt himself leaning in more, his hand almost instinctively reaching for hers. She didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers intertwined with his, soft and warm.
He could see her breath hitch, her lips parting slightly as they sat there, inches apart. Nicholas could feel the moment building, that unspoken connection between them finally rising to the surface.
“I’ve thought about this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “about you.”
Nicholas smiled, feeling his own nerves giving way to something warmer, more certain. “Me too,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers.
And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned in the rest of the way, closing the small gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It wasn’t rushed or forceful; it was sweet and gentle, the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could.
Her hand squeezed his slightly as she kissed him back, her lips soft and warm against his. The moment felt surreal, almost like a dream, but it was real—so real that Nicholas could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
When they finally pulled back, both of them were breathless, their foreheads almost touching. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a small, nervous smile.
“That was...” she started, her voice shaky but full of warmth.
“Yeah,” Nicholas finished for her, a smile tugging at his lips.
For a few moments, neither of them said anything. They just sat there, their hands still loosely intertwined, the weight of the kiss lingering between them. Everything felt different now, and yet, somehow, it felt like this was exactly where they were supposed to end up.
“I guess... we’re not missing anything anymore,” Nicholas said with a grin, his voice light.
She laughed softly, a sound that made Nicholas’s heart flutter all over again. “I guess not.”
As they sat there, side by side, the world outside her room seemed to fade away. There was just the two of them, and the quiet, undeniable connection that had been building for so long. And for the first time in a while, Nicholas felt like he had finally found something he hadn’t even realized he’d been searching for.
#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez imagine
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Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection
IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.
Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?
This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know?
It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print.
What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:
Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.
Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.
Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive!
I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!
We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha
* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM
You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!
I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D
If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!
** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.)
I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)
#revolutionary girl utena#utena#rgu#sku#empty movement#chiho saito#90s manga#digital archives#manga aesthetic#shoujo kakumei utena#utena art
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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
#sally face x reader#sally face fanfic#sally face fanfiction#sal sally face#sally face sal#sally x reader#sal x reader#sal fisher#sally fisher#sally face#sal fisher x you#sal fisher x reader#sf sal#sally face fluff#sal fisher x y/n
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♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST
pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader
summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!
warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader
“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.
“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”
Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.
It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.
“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.
“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.
While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.
“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.
Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.
Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-
When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”
You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.
“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.
Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.
“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.
“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”
Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.
“Please, don’t be upset with her.”
“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.
Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”
taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat
#stray kids#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz x reader#hyunjin stray kids#stray kids hyunjin#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin hard thoughts#hyunjin hard hours#hyunjin drabbles#skz drabbles#skz hard thoughts#skz scenarios#skz hard hours#skz smut drabble#skz smau#hyunjin smut#skz imagines#skz#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin series#skz hyunjin#skz fanfic#hyunjin skz#hyunjin angst
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makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is
summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.
song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku
a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol
tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah
Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him.
Until now.
“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.
“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”
You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.
“You are in serious need of a facial.”
Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that.
“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.”
You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband.
“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.
“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle.
“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly. Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face.
“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle.
“Hyaluronic acid.”
Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.
“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?”
“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.
“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”
You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet.
You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.
“What does that do?”
He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful.
“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.”
That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.
You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.
“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.
“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”
“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face.
Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life.
“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself.
“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.
“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”
You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.
“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting.
“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?”
You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little.
“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”
#rodrick heffley#rodrick heffley x reader#rodrick#rodrick x reader#rodrick x hyperfeminine reader#hyperfeminine reader#diary of a wimpy kid#diary of a wimpy kid x reader#doawk#doawk x reader#yeah no idea where the book thing came from#i literally wasn't even a horse/unicorn kid growing up#i was more into faries#like i liked the horse girl aesthetic ig but i never really got into it#but it's fun#i almost accidentally named a character after a member of paramore so im glad i caught that lol#stay tuned
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study session
MDNI
Synopsis: student!reader comes over the study with her best friend, but comes in contact with her older brother mingyu instead
a/n: this has been in the drafts for like a week and it’s still not proofread…
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The late afternoon sun poured through the trees outside, casting playful shadows on the sidewalk as you made your way to your best friend’s house. Your heart raced with anticipation; studying for upcoming exams could be tedious, but at least you had your best friend, Mina, by your side to help make the time more enjoyable. You pushed open the gate, its creaky hinges announcing your arrival. You had been here countless times before, but today felt different.
You knocked gently on the door, noting the way your palms slightly dampened with sweat. Being shy made moments like these even more nerve-wracking; you had always struggled to make your presence felt around others, even those you were close to.
After a few moments, when there was still no answer, you checked your phone. As expected, there was a message from Mina. "Running a little late! Can you let yourself in?" You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open and stepping into the familiar warmth of her home.
“Hello?” you called out, but the sounds of the house were drowned by the low hum of the refrigerator and the faint chirping of birds outside. You were met with a silence that felt almost oppressive. You slipped off your shoes and wandered into the living room, glancing at the clock. You still had some time before Mina arrived. With a small sigh, you decided to gather your books and materials from your bag to settle in for what would likely be a long study session.
As you organized your things on the coffee table, a light shuffle of footsteps echoed down the hallway before a tall figure stepped into view.
“Mingyu?” you blurted out, surprised.
Mingyu, Mina’s older brother, stood before you like a vision: tousled dark hair framing his handsome face, his fit physique accentuated by a loose T-shirt and jogger pants. He blinked at you, an amused smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
You stammered, “M-Mina said she’d be late, so I came to study.” Your cheeks heated as you noticed how his gaze lingered on your face.
His expression shifted to one of understanding, “Ah, okay. Well, if you need anything, just let me know. I’m just about to head to the kitchen to grab a snack.” He turned to walk away, and you felt a flutter in your stomach. His casual demeanor was enough to make you both nervous and excited at the same time.
“I—uh—do you want some help?” you offered, surprising even yourself with the invitation. The words spilled from your lips before you could think about the implications.
He paused and turned to face you fully. “Sure, if you want to help! I could always use an extra set of hands.” His grin widened, and your heart raced.
As you followed him into the kitchen, you couldn’t shake the feeling of exhilaration mixed with anxiety. You watched as he rummaged through the pantry, pulling out a bag of chips. “You want some?” he asked, holding the bag up.
“Um, yeah, sure.” You took a chip, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours. You stood by the counter, unsure of where to look. The tension in the air was palpable, and each passing second felt like an eternity.
Mingyu leaned casually against the counter, his arm brushing against yours, sending shivers down your spine. “So how’s studying going for you? I’ve heard it’s pretty intense this time of year.”
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Y-Yeah, it’s been… tough. I’m really trying to get good grades.” You couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered under his gaze. He looked at you with curiosity, as if you were something more interesting than the bag of chips between you.
“I get that. School can be rough. But you’ve got this,” he encouraged, his tone sincere. Hearing him speak to you that way made your heart flutter even more. Maybe Mingyu wasn’t just Mina’s brother; he was genuinely kind—a trait not often seen, especially in college boys.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you managed to say, rubbing your arms anxiously.
After a few more moments of small talk, the initial awkwardness melted away slightly as you found a rhythm in conversation. Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something electric in the air, a tension that both thrilled and terrified you.
“I should probably get back to studying,” you finally said, your voice wavering with uncertainty.
He nodded, “Yeah, I should probably let you focus. I’m going to head back to my room and work on a few things too.” As he spoke, a sudden idea lit up in your mind—a bold impulse that you couldn’t ignore.
“Wait, Mingyu…” you stopped him before he could walk away completely, “Do you want to study with me? I mean, if you have time. We could… help each other?”
His brows rose in surprise, and for a moment, you thought he might decline. But then, his lips curled into a smirk. “You know what? That sounds great. I could use a distraction anyway.” He stepped back into the living room with you, and your heart leaped.
Settling back on the couch, you spread your materials across the coffee table. Mingyu sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. You grabbed your textbook and began flipping through the pages, but it was hard to focus with the intoxicating presence sitting beside you.
“Alright, what do you want to start with?” He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. You could hardly concentrate on the questions in front of you.
You took a deep breath, your voice steadying slightly. “Let’s start with math. I could use some help with these equations.”
As you worked together, laughter filled the room. Mingyu had a talent for turning complicated formulas into something more approachable. His enthusiasm was contagious, and soon you found yourself smiling and engaging him more than you had anticipated.
Time slipped by as you dived into the material, the way he explained things making everything seem so easy. However, with each passing moment, you couldn’t help but notice his occasional sideways glance, a spark of mischief in his eye.
“Okay, next question…” You squinted at the paper, trying to keep your focus but feeling dizzy under his gaze.
“I think you're overthinking it,” he said suddenly, causing you to look up. “Just trust yourself.”
His voice was encouraging, sending warmth flooding through you. You let out a nervous chuckle, “Easier said than done, right?”
“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” He leaned just a bit closer, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race. “Just look at the problem simply.”
You swallowed, the tension between you becoming unbearable. With a quick glance at him, you realized that you couldn’t ignore the charge in the air; it was intoxicating, and your body reacted with a surprising want that you never expected to feel sitting next to your friend’s brother.
Mingyu’s eyes flickered to your lips, and suddenly the space between you felt impossibly small. You could feel your cheeks heating again, and your breath quickened, but still, a part of you couldn’t look away.
The tension in the room grew thicker as you both succumbed to the heat building between you. Mingyu's kiss grew more urgent, his hands moving with purpose, unbuttoning your shirt one button at a time. His touch sent shivers down your spine, making you forget about the outside world.
The coolness of the fabric against your skin was a stark contrast to the warmth of his palms as they explored your body. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as his hands reached your waist, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your jeans.
Mingyu's eyes searched yours for permission, and you nodded, too lost in the moment to speak. With a smoldering look, he tugged your jeans down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. Your heart hammered in your chest as he trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone.
The sound of the front door opening sent a jolt of panic through your body. You froze, your eyes wide with shock as the door creaked open.
“no fucking way…”
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x o o o o o o
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Hello omg I love your soft sylus writing a lot !!
May I request please a reader where she loves sylus so much that she tries to express it by words but can’t cause she is so shy and never done so and sylus encourage it and tease her
LOVE UR WRITING
You had something to say and it clear as day to Sylus that you were lost within the internal conflict raging on within your mind, weighing out the pros and cons of speaking truthfully of your heart to him. And while it was adorable to watch you squirm and struggle to articulate your thoughts into coherent sentences for the first five minutes, Sylus was soon aware that since your so hesitant in taking the first step, he’ll have to take the first step on your behalf by grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you onto his lap.
‘Somethings on your mind kitten, it’s eating away at you and I want to know what it is that’s been consuming you from the inside out.’ He says while tightening his grip on your wrist just enough to keep you from being able to pull away, but enough where he’s not bringing you to any harm. You could practically feel your heart in your throat as it righted in on itself, it didn’t help that Sylus’s crimson eyes were peering into you in a way that made it seem as though he knew but loved to watch you suffer. ‘I- I don’t-‘ you stopped before you could even say a full sentence as everything leading up to now had resurfaced in your mind.
You knew you loved Sylus, you have for a while now, but past experiences or close to the sort have made you hesitant in making the first move and into something more meaningful between the two of you. You remember times where you would wonder whether you’d be luckily enough to be blessed with having someone become interested in you, fully investing their time and energy into what you had to say, their eyes remained on you as though they couldn’t bring themselves to look at anyone else.
You wanted everything you’ve seen in movies or read in books so badly, but even if you did find someone who was interested by you, you tended to pull away before they could get close enough to see the real you and become distant because you didn’t fulfill their idea of you that was unrealistic. You couldn’t help it for after being on your own for a long while you have grown accustomed to the idea that you might be left to your own company, maybe have a cat and or a dog in the future to make up for the lack of connection. So the idea of sharing your space with anyone else has always made you feel seriously self conscious and unable to articulate your thoughts and feelings like you’d like to.
However soon Sylus came into your life and you felt the same way you did when you were still talking to the person you preciously liked. You felt jittery, scared, excited and eagerly anticipated when you’d next see Sylus again while occasionally on the look out for Mephisto. Yet once you realised what you were feeling, what you were doing, a cold sense of dread filled you and unfortunately Sylus’s actions towards you only made it even harder for you to deny what was happening between you two.
Sylus would go out of his way to hold you by the small of your back in crowded spaces, keeping you close proximity to him, lightly touch your shoulder or stand closer to you then normal and even get in your face to watch your expressions as he did some lighthearted teasing. He was in your personal space and he was everywhere you went, and since it happened so often it came to a point where you were actively seeking out the tall man with crimson eyes and snow/silvery hair without realising it. The implications scared you gravely to the point where recently you’ve tried to avoid Sylus…only for Luke and Kieran along with Mephisto to find you and inform Sylus before he greeted you in person.
Sylus took your chin in his free hand and moving your head so you were back to staring into his observant eyes rather than to your fiddling fingers. ‘Use your words kitten, after all I’ve got all the time for you to sort out what you want to say.’ He tells you as a smirk played upon his lips as he watched your eyes widened a tad and your breath hitched in your throat. Sylus then taps a finger against your lips softly, letting it linger there for a bit. ‘So speak your mind sweetheart, speak it to me and don’t be afraid of the consequences,’ he then leans forward to rest his head against yours as his eyes looked at your lips briefly before looking back into your eyes, ‘you might like what happens afterwards.’ He finishes as he caresses your jawline with his fingers.
‘Don’t.’ You tell him sternly, taking Sylus back a little. ‘Don’t say things like that if you’re just going to be giving me false promises and leave after I say it.’ You reiterated as you looked at his face as you felt a wave of embarrassment over come you as everything within you screamed to protect yourself.
‘What makes you think I won’t take what you say to me seriously? Have I given you any doubt to distrust me into thinking I would laugh at your innermost emotions?’ Sylus asked and when you didn’t respond his smirk faltered as a serious emotions overcame his face and he took a deep breath. ‘You know I would never laugh at your emotions right? What do I have to gain in knowing your feelings? For I would never use it against you, not when I know that I’d loose you and your trust for that matter.’ Sylus told you as he lets go of your wrist to hold your face between his palms instead, stroking your cheeks softly that you couldn’t help but melt into his touch.
‘I love you Sylus.’ You admitted softly but clearly enough for him to hear as his thumbs stopped caressing your cheeks. ‘I always knew I love you but didn’t want to say anything incase you’d find another person to call your muse, to call your kitten or sweetheart. Someone who can keep up with you where I can’t. I knew I couldn’t confess if I knew that this thing between us will never be anything but serious.’ You continued as you felt everything come to the surface, easing the weight upon your shoulders greatly as you could feel yourself breath properly once more.
Sylus didn’t say anything at first and it worried you, especially with the way he keeps his gaze locked on you as though nothing else mattered in this moment but you. It felt as though he could see right through you and directly into your soul and it made you feel a little exposed and vulnerable. It scared it greatly that your fears were proven right, so much that in the moment you tried to move yourself off of his lap, only for Sylus to pull you in closer to him by your face until you were touching noses and lips were ghosting over the others.
‘Sylus-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Sylus was quick to press his lips to yours as he began to weave his lips between yours with a tenderness and passion you weren’t expecting after confessing your innermost feelings. He held your face as though it was porcelain as he deeper the kiss, moving a hand to the back of your head to keep you close to him, all the while his other hand rested on your waist to pull you further into him as though you weren’t already physically close enough. It was passionate, sweet and warm as you found yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, bunching up the fabric of his expensive shirt under your grip as you melted into the kiss; wanting nothing but to forget everything else except the taste of his lips on yours.
Only for your lungs to burn, forcing you to pull away from him as you catches your breath.
Sylus smirked as he hurried his head into your neck, breathing heavily as his fingers traced your skin over your clothes lovingly while you rested your head against his shoulder, soaking in his warmth and comforting feeling you get from cuddling against his chest. ‘I told you I wouldn’t take you nor your emotions for granted kitten, why would I do that to the person I love?’ He says against your neck and you couldn’t help but smile goofily at his own confession as your heart fluttered.
You were glad that you finally got your feelings off of your chest…even if it did take a little nudge from your crimson eyed beloved to do so as you spent the rest of the evening in his arms and whispering sweet nothings to one another.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace imagine#love and deepspace imagines#lads imagine#lads imagines#lads x reader#lads x you#lads x y/n#lads fluff#love and deepspace fluff#sylus imagine#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#sylus fluff
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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Sixteen
Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader
Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.
Warnings: Lucien Vanserra could kill me and I would be honored. Cannon typical violence. Some angst. Lots of fun
The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
Lucien stood in disbelief, mouth opening and closing. Words stuck in his throat.
You knew as his eyes roamed over your features that he was hunting for some mark of Helion’s that you’d inherited, whether it be the set of your eyes, the curve of your jaw, the slope of your nose, or even the tilt of your sharp ears. But he came up empty. Whatever features you did share with Helion could have easily been shared by two strangers. It was how you’d gotten away with working with him at the Day Court and attending balls by his side.
But there were some things that went deeper than skin and bones. He could barely make it out in the hum of your power and the faint, charming glow in your eyes. It was something that spoke of warmth and sparkling intellect. A sliver of the sun given form.
You were Helion’s daughter.
You were… you were his sister.
You cleared your throat and looked away. “I understand this must be a surprise. Perhaps not the kind of surprise you were hoping for.”
“You’re my sister,” Lucien finally breathed out, and the wind, so harsh and biting before, ceased.
“Half-sister… technically.”
“I don’t go by halves.”
The sharp, sudden rush of cold air into your lungs had you shivering. Lucien noticed and without thinking he reached out with his power, wrapping heat around your body until you may as well have been perched in front of a roaring fire. His magic smelled like woodsmoke and balsam.
“You’re my sister.” He repeated the phrase a few more times, finding it more believable with each swirl of the words around his tongue.
Elain had known this was coming and had given him a cryptic warning, but that did nothing to lessen the excitement spreading in his chest with each passing second.
You watched him wearily, hands clasped over your body and eyes furrowed, like you couldn’t tell if he was upset. Which was ridiculous. How could Lucien ever be upset by this?
“You’re my sister!”
A sharp laugh exited his body that grew and grew until you felt like you were floating on the waves of his happiness. He rushed forward, hoisting you in the air and spinning you around like you weighed nothing. Wind rushed past your ears as the world blurred.
He gently deposited you back on solid ground.
“How old are you? How long have you known about Helion? Where have you been all this time?” He asked the questions in rapid succession, heart hammering away in his chest.
He had a sister. A sister.
“I’m three hundred and forty-three.”
He smiled. He’d always wanted a younger sibling. A younger sister to be exact that he could teach to fight and hunt and ride with more support than he’d ever been afforded.
“I’ve known about Helion since I was little.” Lucien’s smile slipped at that revelation. “And I’ve been in the Day Court in one of the athenaeums. It was my home up until the point where Koschei burned down my house and I got saddled with Beth’s book. I’ve been here ever since. Although I never expected for any of this—” You gestured vaguely at the House, the sky, at Lucien, “to happen. Not that I’m upset!” You added quickly.
“What was it like? Growing up in the Day Court?” He looked you up and down again, searching for scars or broken bones that had never healed right. But from what he could tell, you were whole.
He clenched his fists tightly until you answered.
“It was safe. Lonely, but safe.”
“Good.” He breathed out in relief. “Good.”
Azriel watched everything from the deck that wrapped around the back of the house. The wind carried the tang of salt, opening his lungs and easing the pain in his chest that wrapped around him like a vice. He kept his wings pulled in tight and hands clasped behind his back. He was a slice in the fabric of the universe, unmoving and still.
And he missed you. Gods did he miss you.
“We shouldn’t stand so close,” Azriel murmured.
His voice was ragged, filled with more gravel than the walkway that snaked through Elain’s garden. Weighed down with secrets that felt more like anvils.
Elain dropped the empty bucket onto the deck followed by the clang of her spade. The shovel lay discarded in the field, the ground marked by neat lines of overturned earth. She cupped her hands and blew into them, breathing life back into her stiff fingers.
Twenty minutes ago he’d seen you run beneath his window, racing towards the Sidra with your robes hiked up to your knees so you could try and keep up with Lucien’s long strides as he pulled you along by your hand, red hair streaming behind him like a bundle of ribbons.
You’d been calling out for him to slow down, your voice loud and breathless.
And after everything that had happened, the things he’d seen, he couldn’t stop himself from walking down to the deck to watch you.
Now you stood at the water’s edge with your hands outstretched, dutifully holding onto every stone that Lucien plucked from the river. Your head tipped to the side in curiosity.
His childhood in Autumn had not been kind, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been happy moments sprinkled in amongst the sorrow. There in the woods with bejeweled treetops and diamond glass rivers he’d learned how to swim and fish and hunt. He’d wrestled with his brothers, fallen in love, and gained the confidence and freedom to eventually travel the Courts and make his own way in the world.
But you’d been lonely your whole life. Trapped indoors with nothing but your books for company. You’d never learned how to swim. You’d never dug through the soil for slimy worms to go fishing. You’d never fallen asleep beneath a glittering sky, fire smoke curling in the air and the taste of chestnuts lingering on your tongue and filling your belly.
It had been a different kind of sorrow, but no less real.
Lucien aimed to change some of that. Your mere presence beside him, as hesitant as it was, filled him with a happiness he couldn’t name.
He had his trousers rolled up to his thighs revealing powerful legs and freckled, caramel-brown skin. He didn’t mind the cold waters rolling over his hands as he tracked the riverbed for the smoothest, flattest stones. Every time he looked back you were either watching him or examining each stone with narrowed eyes like you’d find some algorithm carved into their edges that would tell you what made them so special for the task at hand.
Azriel couldn’t hear what you two were saying, and he didn’t send his shadows out to investigate, but soon you were tugging off your boots, then your socks, and tying the long length of your robes around your waist. You gingerly dipped your toes into the river and immediately leapt back.
Lucien’s laugh rolled over the earth, full of warmth and joy. He was grinning so wide Azriel could see the whites of his teeth and his shaking shoulders.
Inch by inch you walked into the river up to your calves and Lucien dunked his cupped hands into the cold water.
“Don’t you dare! Lucien!”
Then you were shaking your head, slapping Lucien’s hands away with a shout when he tossed the water at your face, and threatening to launch the black stones back into the river for him to fetch. Your toes were already starting to go numb.
Azriel’s heart gave a painful lurch, even as he smiled softly at the sight of you.
“I don’t… I don’t want to give them the wrong idea.” Azriel swallowed and turned his gaze down to where a plump sparrow was digging around in the grasses.
Elain ignored him, dropping her arms onto the wooden railing and staring out. She let out a lovely, longing sigh and Azriel just knew she was strumming the bond within her chest to feel Lucien on the other side.
The red-haired male looked up to meet her gaze and smiled softly. You also looked up, and then immediately looked away with rosy cheeks.
“Lucien knows where I stand. He… he’s finally beginning to trust me again.”
He’d been so eager to give her his heart the first time around, and she’d crushed it beneath her dainty shoes, too angry at the life that had been torn away to look at the one she’d been given. This time around she was determined to earn Lucien’s love, no matter how easy he made it for her. No matter how many times he told her it wasn’t something that had ever needed to be earned.
“It took some time to gain that back.” She shifted. “But then again, we were lucky. We knew what we were to each other. You still haven’t told Y/n you’re mates.”
“You know about that?”
Elain rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious, because it was.
“I don’t think I can tell her, Elain.”
“And why not?”
Azriel hesitated.
Here was a truth he hadn’t been able to express to his brothers — the truth they didn’t understand: They were good, decent males, and when it had come to their mating bonds they’d treated them with the respect they deserved. They’d been patient. They’d never tried to force a hand that wasn’t theirs.
But Azriel was… wrong. In so many ways he was wrong.
He either waited too long or he moved without thinking. He fell into obsession like a starling with clipped wings. He scrounged for scraps of affection where he wasn’t supposed to and brooded when it inevitably blew up in his face. He’d been trying to take his time with you. He’d been trying to do it right. He was…
He was already in love with you.
He’d been in love with you for some time now.
Elain smiled, still staring towards the river.
She had loved Azriel once. Not in the way she loved Lucien and not in a way that had been good for them, but still it had been love of some kind. She could feel the waves rolling off his body as he came to his quiet realization, and it felt very different from the way he’d felt about her and very similar to the way she felt about Lucien.
“I love her, Elain.” He whispered the words like they were fragile as spun sugar, ready to dissolve the moment they left his lips.
“She’ll say yes to the bond. I’ve seen it.”
Azriel let out a broken, strangled noise and looked at Elain, begging for more. “Even after—”
“Yes. Even after what that boy made you do. Even after what she learned when she touched your hand.” She looked down at Azriel’s hands, leather gloves worn and supple. She gave them a squeeze. “A year ago I had a vision of a white bird flying out of the sun with a golden ribbon tied to one of its feathers. Its wings were dipped in ink so she could leave a trail along the ground for a beast of shadow to follow.”
Azriel went still as death. “And then what happened?”
Elain looked up at him, eyes glittering. “She flew to the base of a mountain, laid down, and has been waiting ever since. She’s been waiting for you. For someone who understands what it means to be lonely and what it’s like to hope for more.”
And Azriel did exactly that. He hoped for more.
More time with you. More unrestrained touches. More midnight conversations until your eyes were threatening to shut.
Something changed then. Elain’s brown, doe eyes turned misty and flat. Her voice dropped and the hand she reached out to grab hold of his arm was cold as ice.
“You need to be careful, Az,” she warned. “Don’t let her go into the mirror. She may not come out.” She clawed at his arms. “Az, you need to be careful. The mirror…”
He gripped her shoulders, stabilizing her as she swayed on her feet.
“Elain, what—” But her vision was already gone. No matter how hard she tried to hold on it was like trying to keep water in a cracked cup.
Lucien kept his arm perfectly parallel with the earth, drew back, and snapped his wrist at the last second. The stone flew out over the glassy river and kept kissing the surface in weakening arches before it was eventually swallowed up in a dollop of salt.
“Eight.”
Lucien looked at you incredulously. “I counted nine.”
“Eight skips,” you argued. “Males always overestimate.”
“And what experience do you have with males?”
None. Except for that one glorious day you’d clung to Azriel like the world was finally peaceful. It was nowhere near the level of experience you suspected Lucien must have after centuries spent bouncing around from Court to Court. Nowhere near the level of experience Azriel or the others had when it came to touch.
You bristled. “Enough.”
Lucien smirked like he knew you were lying and held out his hand for another stone. Soon it too was lost to the river.
“How many this time?”
You twisted your lips to the side, but had to admit, “Nine.”
He was grinning.
“Come on.” He held out his hand for you, beckoning you deeper into the river. “Your turn. Just like I showed you.”
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Come on!”
“I will kill a fish, Lucien.”
There was a playful roll of his eyes. “Y/n—”
“I’ll end up throwing a rock so hard into the water I’ll give an innocent, unsuspecting fish brain damage.” So what if you were being melodramatic. That did nothing to counter the fact that your hand-eye coordination was shit.
“Y/n, you’ll be fine. I promise.”
Wrong.
You were gods awful at this.
You tried your best to mimic the bend of Lucien’s spine as he let go of his stone, tried to mimic the way he curled his fingers against its rounded edges. But every single one of your throws was either too strong or too weak. Too high or too low.
You chucked the last rock in your hand but the spin on it — or rather lack thereof — was abysmal. It plopped into the river three yards away with a splash.
Lucien chuckled, shaking his head as you stomped back onto the beach, swearing with every step as your robes dragged through the water behind you.
You whirled around and kicked up river water in his direction.
“Stop laughing!” A smile tugged at your lips even as you said that.
“You’re doing very well!”
“Don’t be condescending.”
“I’m not!”
“I didn’t grow up in the backwoods of Autumn. I’ve never done this before,” you grumbled, your words tinged with embarrassment.
And thank the Mother you hadn’t. Yes, Lucien had always wanted a sister, but he flinched just to think of the horrors you would have faced if you’d both shared a mother instead of a father. The ways Beron would have bent you until you broke, especially as a female. Sold to the highest bidder and forced to have as many children as possible. A high-end, noble-blooded breeder.
Suddenly he wasn’t laughing anymore. The smile slipped off his bright face.
You stiffened. Some of the scars on Lucien’s body took on new meaning.
“I’m sorry, Lucien,” you said. The fun of the afternoon, as embarrassing as it had been for you, fell away. “I wasn’t thinking.”
You’d only heard whispers of the way Beron treated his children. Which could only mean that they’d endured infinitely worse.
Lucien shook his head and more of his scarlet hair came tumbling out of his braid. He looked so much like Helion in the sun that you were surprised more people didn’t know. They had the same strong noses, the same build with their tapered waists and strong legs. They even had the same dimple on their left cheeks.
But maybe Beron and his brothers had known, or at least suspected that he was different, and that had added to Lucien’s torment.
“Maybe one day you could show me though,” you asked hopefully when the silence was on the verge of becoming too loud, “I’ve never been to Autumn — I’ve not been to most places, actually — but I’d like to see it. I could show you the Day Court too.”
He shook his head slowly, rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think that would be a good idea — visiting the Day Court.”
That was the issue you’d been tiptoeing around the last two hours. You both knew about Helion, but he was only aware of your existence, not Lucien’s. And it was one thing for you to be revealed as Helion’s daughter — there’d be gossip, attempts on your life, and countless marriage proposals.
But for Lucien? He’d suddenly find himself face to face with the weight of a crown and an entire Court on his shoulders. You wouldn’t blame him for trying to avoid that fate.
Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “Lucien… Why haven’t you told Helion yet? Beron’s been dead for years now, and I’ve heard only good things about Eris. That he’s honest and fair. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d punish you if you claimed your right to Helion’s Court.”
His bright eyes turned bitter, all laughter disappearing. He dipped his hand into the river, picked up a rock, and chucked it back in. Its edges were too ragged anyway.
“What makes you think he doesn’t already know?”
You straightened up as if the answer were obvious. “Trust me, he doesn’t know. If he knew you were his son, he would have found ways to see you grow up. We might have even grown up together.”
It was a pathetic daydream, but one you’d been thinking about.
“You’re wrong!”
The outburst was so sudden, so unlike the Lucien everyone else spoke of that you had to take a few steps back. Smoke rose from his clenched fists and his skin pulsed, glowing with an inner light like he was more ember than fae.
He blinked rapidly then swore, brushing his salt-stiffened hair back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but…” He shook his head. “He wouldn’t have come. He didn’t come. He just left me and my mother there with that monster. He must have known what it was like — the things he did to her and the rest of us — but he never showed up. Not for my mother. Not for me.”
“He didn’t know.”
You repeated those words with the same conviction you had for everything else you knew to be true. You stepped closer and with the slope of the beach you could face him eye-to-eye.
“Do you want to know how I know? My mother wanted nothing to do with him when she found out she was pregnant. He had to hear it from one of the healers. And when I was born she forbade him from visiting, forbade him from even laying eyes on me, but he couldn’t stay away. He found ways to be in my life and protected me as best he could, and when Mom died and I was left on my own, he gave me projects with purpose so I wouldn’t crumble into nothing.” You stabbed your finger against your chest. “He did that for me. Is he a great father? Absolutely not. Is he a decent father? Maybe? Probably not, he wasn’t there most of the time. But he’s trying. I know it’s not the same and we’re still strangers and I understand if you don’t forgive him for abandoning your mother — I wouldn’t — but he would have gone for you.”
You were breathing hard now. Lucien just stared with shiny eyes and unclenched fists.
“And I think after everything you’ve been through, you deserve to know what it’s like to have a father who at least tries.”
The world was too small right now. It was too big. The Sidra had soaked through your skin and your robes were growing heavier and heavier by the second, weighed down by salt water and time.
“Would you at least consider telling him? Please?”
Because another pathetic daydream you’d been thinking of recently was that one day it might be you and Helion and Lucien. An imperfect family, but a family nevertheless. That you might not feel so alone anymore.
Lucien’s throat bobbed and he turned away from you long enough for the crisp wind to dry his tears.
“Take off your robes. They must be soaked by now. I’ll make sure you don’t go cold.'” His voice was strangled. He cleared his throat. “And I’ll look for more stones. No sister of mine is going to go through life without learning how to skip stones.”
He threw that word around so casually — sister — like saying it over and over again would somehow make the hundreds of years you’d both spent on your own disappear.
Clouds gathered steadily overhead painting the world with a wash of grey. But that did nothing to diminish the faint light that emanated from you and Lucien as you waded through the shallows and finally learned to skip stones. Lucien whooped, red hair streaming behind him, and you smiled as your last stone skipped twice over the river before disappearing beneath the surface.
You leaned back in the tall, dying grasses and sipped on the cardamom tea Elain brought down from the House, listening to the many stories Lucien had gathered over centuries spent traversing Prythian and the Human Lands. You told him about The Alcove, Cherp, your mother, and the books you read, and he listened like it was the most epic tale he’d heard in his entire life.
Sometimes you both went quiet. It was sobering to think about what you’d both endured alone without your true family. But still… it was good to have one another now.
When you walked into the packed dining room — barefoot, salt-stained, and rosy from the cold — Lucien pulled out the seat next to him for you, surprising the grey Ione.
Elain dropped gracefully into the chair across from her mate, a knowing smile on her face.
“Good day?”
You and Lucien glanced at one another. His golden eye whirred and his russet eye gleamed mischievously.
You folded your arms over your chest, forcing down the smile that threatened to make its appearance. “The worst.”
“You’re just upset because you lost,” Lucien teased, casually draping his arm over your shoulder.
“It was hardly a fair competition. You must have — what? — five-hundred years of experience against me?”
He clasped a hand over his chest. “You wound me, sister. Although, if you must know, I’m four hundred and seventeen.”
“I’m surprised you’re not a sack of bones on the floor.”
“I’m not that old.”
“I think I see a few grey hairs here and there.”
Lucien scoffed, but everyone noticed when he absentmindedly touched his long red locks as the last of the dinner plates materialized on the table. Feyre reached over from beside Lucien and squeezed his hand tightly under the table.
It wasn’t the drop of Helion’s magic that caused The High Lady’s eyes to glow so brightly. She was just happy. Lucien squeezed her hand back even tighter.
Azriel was the last to arrive, appearing in the hallway in a swath of shadows like he was stepping out of one of your dreams. He must have flown home today. Mist gathered into droplets that clung to his skin and hair and eyelashes like a thousand diamonds. Not even the faint shadows beneath his eyes could distract from his beauty, and you felt that familiar wash of comfort flow over your body when you caught his scent.
There was only one available seat left at the table. The one directly across from you and Lucien… and right next to Elain.
Your stomach dropped.
The seating arrangement was truly a horrible coincidence. One that no one seemed to recognize until it was too late and Azriel’s chair was screeching over the wooden floor. Both he and Elain shifted in their seats, quietly pulling them further apart. It should have made you feel better that Azriel was trying so hard to distance himself from Elain, but the only thing it emphasized was that they’d used to be so close.
Cassian looked over nervously at his brother, but Azriel was as impassive as always. The room fell into uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the sounds of chewing and the clinking of silverware. If the House was a person, they would be sweating buckets.
Cassian coughed and sipped his wine. “So… lovely weather we’re having.”
Lightning cracked across the darkened sky, followed by rain that began plummeting to the earth in heavy sheets.
Rhysand leaned over and smacked his brother on the back of his head and Cassian couldn’t even feign annoyance at that.
“You never fail to have incredible timing, Cassian.” Lucien drank his wine deeply and some of the tension seemed to lift from the table when everyone noticed how happy he still was. The terrible things in the world had not lessened, but Lucien felt lighter than he had in decades.
In proper Helion fashion, he kept the pleasant conversation spinning over the table, ensnaring you with the stories he tossed back and forth with Feyre.
“How was I supposed to know you’d be crazy enough to try and capture a Suriel?”
“What? Like it was meant to be difficult?”
Lucien smirked and crossed his arms. “Beginner’s luck.”
“What were the second and third times then?”
“The Suriel being a terrible busybody who was bored and wanted to spill gossip.”
Feyre flipped him off and he winked in return.
Azriel did what he always did and sat still and quiet as a mouse, eyes tracing over the flow of conversation like he knew who would speak before they’d even opened their mouths. But his eyes kept lingering on you, a smile tugging at his lips whenever one grew on yours.
Lucien noticed it the third time it happened. Then the fourth. Then the fifth. Until he found himself watching the Shadowsinger almost as intensely as Azriel was watching you.
His grip tightened around his silverware.
“I am not nearly as uptight as Gwyn says I am,” you muttered, pushing around the potatoes on your plate.
You’d sunk into your seat when, to your embarrassment, the conversation had steered in your direction. Azriel had been the one to do it, casually dropping a comment about how much time you spent in Cagniv Library and the ways in which you’d already influenced the priestesses who operated there. It was the first thing he’d said all day.
“You made a fifth year apprentice cry.”
“That’s a lie, Nesta, and you know it.”
Nesta did know it, but you’d been so quiet the past few weeks. She wanted to poke fun if only to make you smile.
“Fine, that was an exaggeration. But you interrogated Farrah like she was a war criminal. Azriel would have been impressed.”
“She’s the only expert on Cyerion Age Bauldish folklore and she was missing half the citations for her thesis! It took me ages to track down some of her sources.”
“She can’t cite a book that’s over 2,000 years old with no identifiable author. Or title. Or publishing date.”
You grumbled under your breath. Something about, “Your library gives me anxiety” and “You’re making me look bad in front of Lucien.”
“Hmmm? Sorry?” Lucien tore his eyes away from where one of Azriel’s shadows had slid under the table and was now wrapping around the leg of your chair in an effort to gain your attention.
You shook your head. “Nesta’s just trying to make me look bad.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Azriel said softly, so softly he probably hadn’t even meant to say the words aloud. He looked up from his plate, shocked to hear his own voice continue on. “Maybe after this is all done, you could take on the task of reorganizing Cagniv. I’m sure you’d be saving the next Librarian more than a few headaches.”
Your wide eyes met his across the table and for a brief moment it was like you two were alone and teasing each other over tea in the middle of the night like you used to. Two shadows illuminated by candlelight in a Court that never slept.
You sat up a little straighter. “Is that a challenge?”
Azriel smiled faintly, “Maybe. Although I’m sure Bryaxis would give you a run for your money.”
You furrowed your brows. “Bryaxis?”
Rhys smirked, “He’s the resident shadow demon that lives on the bottom floor of Cagniv. He flew down once on a dare and he high-tailed it out of the abyss white as a sheet. He still doesn’t talk about it.”
“Fuck you for bringing that up, Rhys.” Cassian’s hand trembled as he brought his fork up to his lips, “You’ll never let me live that down will you?”
“You… you have a shadow demon living in your library?” Your face twisted in horror and you slammed your knife down on the table, “Is that why a third of the catalogue is missing from the shelves? I’ve been searching for ages!”
And there it was — that faint twitch of irritation in your eyes that told Azriel you were already contemplating going down to confront Bryaxis yourself. He could imagine how you’d stand there with a hand tucked into your robes, swinging a lantern from the other as you bullied the monster into letting you move the volumes someplace else. How you’d lecture him on the importance of controlling humidity when it comes to parchment preservation, and perhaps how you’d begrudgingly agree that the creature’s darkness had protected the fragile books from light exposure.
“I knew that’s what you’d focus on,” Azriel said. His voice was deeper than an ocean, and just as full of hidden meaning. He shook his head in disbelief, a small smile gracing his lips. “You just learned you spent months studying with a monster lurking nearby — a monster that has Cassian trembling in the corner—”
“I am not trembling—”
“And you’re not afraid at all. You’re… you’re incredible, Y/n.”
You pursed your lips, tamping down the delight that threatened to spill over inside of you like champagne bubbles — light and airy and lovestruck. With only a handful of sentences, Azriel had you wishing that everyone else would just leave. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks as Azriel kept looking at you. It was a quiet, intimate undressing without an inch of skin needing to be revealed.
A tendril of shadow creeped up your arm and tugged your hair. The rest hovered shyly over a bag you recognized as Azriel’s, as if they knew they’d done wrong by ferrying it over from their master’s bedroom. But the timing was so perfect, how could they not?
With you watching, they tugged open the strings and spilled the contents on the floor.
To Lucien’s surprise, Azriel’s notorious stone-face went flush with color when he heard the thud of books and realized what his shadows had done.
“Wait—Y/n—” His chair groaned in protest when he shot to his feet.
But you were already holding them in your hands.
The Natural Trials and Tribulations of Leonora Bedroot, Three Knocks for A Kiss, and A Touch of Cinnamon. Your favorite books in the entire world. Two copies each. One brand new, and one whose pages were already flared, leather spines lovingly wrinkled.
Your breath caught in your throat when you flipped through Three Knocks for a Kiss and saw Azriel’s delicate scrawl on every page. Passages had been circled and underlined with his comments left in the margins. Small tabs of paper poked out with more handwritten notes.
Azriel’s been reading these over and over again for months now. He bought them a week after you came to Velaris because he remembered you liked books that are well loved and full of memory. The nights he couldn’t sleep and dream of you, he’d perch on his windowsill and read until morning came. You’ve given him a peace he’s never known before.
A kind of peace you thought you’d been alone in feeling.
The scent of night-chilled mountains and parchment paper filled your nose.
Azriel bowed his head ever so slightly, eyes focused on your hands now clutching the books like they were gold.
“I remembered seeing them in your apartment. I was going to give them to you at some point but…” Azriel trailed off, then whispered. “I remember what you told me about your mother reading them to you.” I remember everything you’ve told me.
“I can keep them?” Your voice was a hush over the room.
You cradled them protectively against your chest, as if at any moment they’d be torn away from you. You’d been hesitant to buy new copies after the original ones had been burned down in the Alcove. Part of their charm had always been the memories of your mother reading them aloud like they were flowers growing from her lips instead of words, buzzing and honey-laden. The books felt different now, but they still felt like something. They weren’t sterile and blank. They were filled with Azriel and all the good memories he carried with him. Few and far between as they were.
“They’re yours,” Azriel breathed, “All yours.”
Lucien looked back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the wetness in your eyes and the thinly veiled adoration in Azriel’s face now that you were looking back at him. A sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him throughout dinner, but he’d repressed it. He couldn’t repress it any longer.
No. Absolutely not. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way.
He let his shock flow through the bond and looked to Elain for confirmation.
Please tell me I’m wrong. He begged silently. Anyone but him. Literally anyone but him.
They’d yet to accept the bond, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t read each other like an open book. And right now Lucien was doing nothing to hide his seething temper.
Elain bit her pale, pink lips and nodded, confirming what he already suspected. Then, in a move of silent permission, she slid her chair six inches away from Azriel’s until she was practically sharing a seat with Nesta.
“Here we go again,” Nesta groaned and looked at Cassian. You want to get her?
Yeah I got her.
You straightened up, pressing the books to your chest in confusion. What had started off as a graciously uneventful dinner had turned into a moment of beauty that you wanted to preserve for a little while longer.
But everyone around you parted, leaning back in their chairs and pulling glasses of wine off the table before draining them in one long chug. Even Ione held her plate in her hands, popping a tomato in her mouth with interest. Mor looked nervous clutching a sweaty bottle of wine against her chest. Feyre and Rhys looked resigned and Lucien… Lucien looked livid. After all, he owed Azriel for the Blood Duel.
Cassian hoisted you out of your seat with his arms wrapped firmly around your middle and stepped back and out of the way.
Your eyes widened when Lucien stood up, skin rippling with light and power. He calmly rolled back his sleeves revealing muscular, scarred forearms, then took off his rings one by one and dropped them on the table.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
He wanted to feel it when he beat the Shadowsinger to a pulp.
Oh… Oh shit.
“Wait—Lucien!”
Lucien gritted his teeth and launched himself over the table.
Azriel didn’t flinch. His hazel eyes didn’t even flicker in surprise. In fact, you swore you saw them flutter closed in acceptance.
In another fight, Azriel might have had the advantage of wings and height, but Lucien had the wider build and the fucking motive. He slammed into the Shadowsinger’s chest and together they disappeared beneath the lip of the table before landing in a sprawl on the floor that knocked the air out of Azriel’s lungs.
Cassian winced when he heard the first of Lucien’s blows land.
“Let me go!” You kicked and squirmed in his grip, but you would have had more luck fighting a mountain. “Cassian, what the fuck?!”
“I’m really sorry, Y/n. But even I have to admit he had this coming.” There was another bloody crack. “Oh damn that sounds like it hurt.”
“Honestly, I didn't know he had it in him,” was Nesta’s only comment. Ione moved to stand beside the eldest Archeron sister so she could get a better view, a faintly amused smile on her face.
“I did,” Elain said simply. That was one of the many things she and Lucien had in common. Their general patience and understanding could only stretch so far before snapping. “Ione, perhaps you should go upstairs.”
The older woman looked offended. “Why? This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. Such drama.”
When Helion had fought Azriel, there’d been an elegance to it — something altogether noble about the event as the two stared each other down as equals.
This was nothing like that.
Lucien was pissed and even Azriel had to admit that he really, really deserved this one.
Lucien’s chest heaved, every blow of his fists against Azriel’s face punctuated by snarling words.
“First you go after my mate—” Punch. “Then my sister—” Punch. Punch. “Are you—” Punch. “Fucking—” Punch. “Kidding me?!”
The last blow sent Azriel’s head snapping back hard enough to crack the floor tiles. Blood splattered from his nose like a spray of paint lobed at a canvas and Azriel knew from his sudden inability to breath that it was broken.
“Lucien! Stop it!”
“We just redid the tiles,” Rhysand groaned, rubbing his temples.
Lucien growled and grabbed Azriel by the front of his leathers, throwing him over and onto the table. The long mahogany table, shiny and expensive as hell, snapped in two with a deafening bang. Silverware flew into the air, catching the light like holiday tinsel. Porcelain plates shattered and Azriel finally groaned in pain from the harsh twisting of his wings. The fearsome Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court could only lay there as green peas rolled down on top of him, gravy sinking into his hair.
“Not the table too,” Rhys whined. He’d had it specially commissioned for the River House.
Lucien dragged Azriel off the glorified heap of wood chips before tossing him back onto the floor, fist raised in the air.
“Alright! That’s enough,” Feyre said with a loud clap of her hands. “If you two want to fight, do it outside. I don’t want anyone breaking my house. Again.”
The River House sighed in relief.
Lucien paused just long enough for Rhysand to haul the redhead off his brother with little regard for anyone’s pride.
“Get off me,” Lucien snapped, shoving Rhys away. “I can’t fucking believe this.”
When Cassian finally let you down, you rushed over to Azriel’s side, swiping the handkerchief Rhys held out for you as you passed.
Azriel sat on the floor, face impassive despite the brutal angle of his nose and the blood sprayed over his face and neck. You cradled his face, gently nudging it this way and that as you surveyed the damage.
“Oh Azriel,” you breathed.
Bruises bloomed over his cheekbones, muddy as paint water. His right eye was almost swollen shut, and his split lips bled anew when he gave you a tentative smile.
“Hi,” he murmured reverently, leaning against the palm you cupped beneath his jaw.
Lucien gagged. “Can someone rip my eye out again? Both this time, please?”
“Damnit, Lucien!” You held the handkerchief up to Azriel’s nose, trying to stem the flow of blood before it could continue dripping from his chin. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Really, Y/n?! You’re defending him?!”
Azriel wrapped one arm protectively around your waist, eyes narrowed in a glare. With the blood coating his face he looked positively murderous. Like he’d done the beating and not Lucien.
“Don’t yell at her,” he growled, his voice dangerously low.
“For fuck’s sake.”
It had been a momentary outburst — a rare occurrence with Lucien that held no anger towards you. But you still felt the flare of Azriel’s power as shadows wrapped around you in a layer so thick you couldn’t see past your waist.
“Azriel—” You didn’t want another fight. “It's ok.”
“No. It’s not.”
Lucien was a mixed bag of emotions and he felt a dozen of them go off at the same time like fireworks. There was rage at the male who had the audacity to lay a hand on you, who’d hurt you if the rumours in Velaris were true. A bitter desire for revenge that still lay heavy on his hands after the utter hell he’d gone through watching Azriel and Elain for years. Protectiveness over you — his sister. And a tiny sliver of shame that grew every time you prodded the Shadowsinger’s bent nose and winced.
“Do you know?” Lucien’s voice shook.
“Do I know what, Lucien?”
He swore and looked at everyone in turn. The members of the Inner Circle were trying their damned hardest not to meet his eyes, nervously angling their gaze towards the ground or out the windows like the evening fog was the most interesting thing they’d ever seen.
Fucking hell. You didn’t know.
Lucien reached down over your shoulder, grabbed Azriel’s nose and shoved it back into place with a loud pop.
You cringed at the sound, but Azriel didn’t react. He was well acquainted with pain and knew how to hide it.
He breathed through his reset nose, touching the swore flesh gingerly. “Thank you.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Lucien!”
He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. Elain chose that moment to quietly slide her hand into his from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder so he was surrounded by the smell of wildflowers. She tapped the center of his chest, right where he’d told her he felt anchored by the bond, and then looked pointedly to where you kneeled on the ground in between Azriel’s legs.
And Azriel… Azriel looked lost to the world. Centuries spent relegated to the shadows as a Spymaster had wiped away his feelings, at least outwardly. But everyone could plainly see the way he kept his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your warm skin and the settling of his breathing the longer you held onto his jaw with careful fingers.
Of all the people. It had to be him.
“The Mother works in mysterious ways,” Elain whispered so only her mate could hear.
“Unfortunately for me.”
Lucien took in a ragged breath and clenched his fists, waiting for the worst of his anger to fade away before he collected the books back into the discarded bag and held it out for you.
A peace offering.
You pulled Azriel back onto his feet, keeping one hand firmly clasped in his, and glared at your brother. “That was completely unnecessary.”
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” And he meant it.
Your lips flattened. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Azriel?”
His mismatched eyes flared with irritation when they flickered to the Shadowsinger.
Azriel stood quietly at your side, his face a motley of red, purple, and blue. Still handsome though, much to Lucien’s annoyance.
“I’m not going to apologize for that. He deserved it. I’m just sorry you had to witness it.” Lucien hesitated, then said, “Y/n, I’m not usually like this. I don’t want you to think poorly of me just because of… him.” It was taking everything within him not to use more colorful language to describe the Shadowsinger. “It won’t happen again… unless you ask me to… which I hope you do.”
Lucien wasn’t sure what to expect. He didn’t know what anger looked like painted on your features, or sadness, and he didn’t want to. So, it was a pleasant surprise when you only rolled your eyes and muttered, “First Helion and now you. Fucking males,” before slinging the bag over your shoulder and tugging Azriel towards your room.
The Shadowsinger trailed after you without a second thought, heart hammering away in his chest.
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
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Author's Note:
LET'S GO BIG BROTHER LUCIEEEEENNNNNNNNN
Y'all I had so much fucking fun writing the Lucien/Azriel fight scene. And to think that for a hot second I considered not writing it because I was worried it would be too repetitive to have Azriel get his ass beaten by both Helion and Lucien. Azriel, you poor, poor man, I'm sorry to have put you through all this. But also I'm not sorry at all.
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, please feel free to send me your thoughts!
#the shadowsinger and the inkbird#azriel x reader#azriel x reader angst#azriel x reader slowburn#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#y/n x inner circle#reader x inner circle#reader x lucien#lucien x reader#lucien x y/n#lucien vanserra has my whole heart#i will fight anyone who says anything bad about him#ugh but writing the sibling dynamic between Y/n and Lucien where he's so excited and she's so worried the whole time#SADJF BCALSIGEHRJFKJANDSBHGUFI#just Lucien vanserra
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Desperation
Neteyam x Human fem!reader
Authors note: i’ve been debating making this a mini series, let me know what you think! <3
Summary: you and neteyam have been fascinated by one another and each others cultures, spending every possible minute together. neteyam adapts a habit of sneaking out at night to see you, tonight being no different.
Warnings: 18+!! minors DNI!, aged up neteyam, neteyam is a munch, soft dom neteyam, praises, oral (fem receiving), grinding, whining, size difference, talk of first time (p in v) doesn’t actually happen tho, i think that’s it?
ever since neteyam met you, he’s been stuck to your side like glue. finishing his clan tasks and chores as quick as he possibly could to get back to you, and frankly he’s been spending more time in the lab than he ever thought he would. truthfully, he hated the place. he hated how it smelled so unnatural and how things were so colourless, almost un-life like. humans were fine, but he could never understand the way they lived. he never understood his brothers’ fascination with them either, he never did feel in touch with his human side. until he met you of course, you changed his perspective on a lot of things.
he still didn’t love the lab. but he liked the books you showed him, he liked the assortment of blankets you had and he liked how he could watch you scribble down your thoughts on paper at any moment. he liked the little things, that was undeniable.
he also liked you. granted, most of the human things he likes it’s really only because of you. but it was all incomparable to how he felt about you. everything about you was appealing to him, enticing and captivating. you were exciting, in an entirely different way than his reckless brother was. you were introducing him to new things every day, teaching him the way of your people and culture while he got to give you a personal look on his. the relationship between the two of you grew, and eventually you were spending practically every second together. innocent touches turned into lingering ones, and he couldn’t keep himself from going further.
he started breaking curfew for you, sneaking into your room at odd hours of the night, starting out with just kisses on top of kisses escalating quickly to him on top of you grinding his hips into yours for a little bit of friction. it was embarrassing really, how much he craved to be as close as possible to you even if it was just a kiss or your something as far as your hand wrapped tightly around him.
you were now sat on his lap, late into the night after he once again crept into your dorm within the lab, his large hands holding your waist firmly as you grind your hips against his.
“princess, slow down a little for me” he groaned against your lips as you kept speeding up your movements. even while on top of him, the size difference still had him towering over you, making it easy to lean in and trail your lips on his neck.
his breath catches at that, his face flushing as he takes a deep breath in. “i don’t wanna slow down. i want more” you whined, keeping your legs straddled around his waist. the truth is, you craved the man just as much as he craved you. neteyam consumed every single one of your thoughts, and the desperate grinding and touches have hardly been covering it for you lately. you craved something more, to take things further. you felt his cock press just right against your covered clit, your body feeling warm all over from the sensation, only becoming more desperate for him.
he chuckles a little at your whining, leaning over to look down at your furrowed eyebrows and parted lips. “you enjoying this that much?” he whispered, his voice soft and teasing as he pressed a kiss to your temple, holding your hips tighter as he ground you harder against him. you nodded frantically, hiding your face in his neck as you quietly asked him “can you go faster?”
your voice made him melt, he found your shyness around him so endearing. “yeah baby, whatever you want.” he whispered sweetly, his breath hot in your ear as he did as you asked, pulling back slightly to keep looking at your reaction. he was so obsessed with seeing your blissed out expressions, feeling proud that it was him who made you feel that good. he never was shy with you when it came to his sexuality, getting off on pleasing you and always chasing the euphoric feel of seeing you unravel for him, because of him.
the way his hips were angled had his cock brush up again your clit with every movement, making you moan out his name. he feels your fingertips trace down to his loincloth, fumbling with the strings holding it together, as if asking for permission. “go ahead, princess.” he lifted you up and off his lap like you weighed nothing, keeping you off momentarily so you can pull the loincloth off of him.
you did hurriedly, tossing it as far as possible from you once you finally got it off. he hissed as his cock was freed, feeling the tiniest bit of relief as the cold air hit it. you looked down anxiously, realizing just how big he really was and wondering if that’d ever fit inside of you.
you haven’t had sex yet, but you’ve talked about it. you’ve also been naked around each other plenty, even during innocent moments like cuddling under your mountain of blankets and quilts. you liked to claim it was for research purposes. it felt like now, and this moment, that’s what it was leading up to. the desperation and urgency felt different today, the air between you feeling thicker. it was unspoken, but acknowledged between you both. sometimes you felt like you shared one brain from how often his thoughts reflected yours.
he placed you down gently, cupping your face with one hand and holding your waist with the other, leaning in to kiss you hotly. he rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to soothe you as he felt you become nervous. “it’s just me, pretty girl. we’ll take it nice and slow, always” he said gently, looking into your eyes with his warm amber ones.
once you nod and grant him permission, he cradled you in his arms and laid you back on the cot, hovering over you. he pressed his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth as he trailed his fingertips down your abdomen and to your shorts, unbuttoning them with one hand and pulling them down your legs. his breath becomes heavier as he moved his hand over your core, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. you gasped at the feeling, your lips parting as you looked up at him. he’s used his hands on you before, but his touch sent a jolt of electricity through you every single time.
“are you okay, syulang?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he locked eyes with you. his pupils were blown, the warm amber colour barely seen now. “good, i’m good, really good” you panted, your fingers shakily reaching up to brush against his jaw. the eagerness from before was still there but slightly wavering, you realizing this was a lot more.. intense than you anticipated. he smiled down at you, chuckling softly. “you’re shaking” his voice laced with a bit of concern, but still smiling at you reassuringly. “yeah, well, maybe i’m slightly nervous.. can you blame me?” you say, gesturing down to his member, referencing the size.
“i want you comfortable, sweet girl. you know we can always wait, right?” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, looking up at you with a gentle look in his eyes. you let out a breathe, trying to wipe your sweaty palms against your legs. “i know..” you look over his face, taking in his features and feeling your heart melt over the warmth in his expression.
“why don’t you hold my hand and try to relax, okay?” he lowers his hand down to yours, feeling you interlace your fingers with his as he smiles down at you again. you hold his hand tightly, bringing it up to rest against your chest as you press a kiss to his knuckles. his hand practically engulfs yours, reminding you of the size difference that strangely only made you feel more safe and protected now. he noticed the change in demeanour, leaning down to trail kisses from your ear to neck again, whispering “that’s a good girl”, his breath hot against your neck.
you mewl from the praise, him making you get more and more excited as you try grinding your pelvis against his, skin against skin causing you to whine and squeeze his hand tighter “Teyam, more”.
the words send a flush through him, growling slightly into the crook of your neck from your pleading tone. he licks a stripe up your neck, you feeling just how big the wet muscle alone is compared to your body, his tongue practically covering half your neck. he looks at you with his head tilted, his eyes meeting yours slowly. “you want more?” he says quietly with a slight smirk, his voice sounding a lot more sultry as his eyes rake over you, his fingers thumbing over the hem of your shirt. you nod at him, your big wide eyes looking at him with a slightly nervous but trusting sense. he let go of your hand, taking off the shirt and leaving you bare beneath him. he leaned in to capture your lips in his once more, making sure you didn’t have time to over think your appearance to him as he trailed his hand to your chest, lightly squeezing your breast. you moan into the kiss, your hands reaching to rest in his hair as you lightly tug at the braids.
he trailed his hand back down to your core, two fingers running through your slit, collecting your slick as he found the sensitive nub. he gently massaged circles into it, drawing another moan out of you. “n-nete..”
“shhh” he cooed, moving his fingers a little faster. “s’okay. feels good, yeah?” his voice sounds slightly hoarse as he admires your blissed out expression, smiling at your little squirms and mewls. “mhm..! yeah, just.. a little faster” you pant, bucking your hips into his palm, his hand covered in your wetness. neteyam chuckles at your eagerness, speeding up his movements before trailing kisses down your chest, lower and lower as he licks and sucks along your stomach before reaching your sensitive spot. he looks you in the eyes as he removes his fingers from your clit and replaces them with his tongue, the large muscle practically covering your entire pussy.
“oh god- Neteyam!” you yell, throwing your head back as your lips stay parted and your hand grips at his hair. he growls into your heat, lapping at your juices enthusiastically as he holds your legs open for him. “fuck, you taste so sweet, princess. so fucking delicious” he groans, slurping loudly at your cunt. you kept bucking your hips into his face, your face turning red as you mewl.
he keeps his eyes on you, not looking away for even a second as he swipes his tongue through your heat, beginning to suck on your clit as he slowly brings his finger to circle your pussy, slowly pushing it in. you gasp softly, your eyes widening as you looked down and gazed into his eyes, seeing the predatory look behind them as he started thrusting it in and out. you let out a silent moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you clutched the sheets beneath you, whimpering as you locked your legs around his head. he grinned, sucking more enthusiastically when he felt your thighs tremble.
“teyam, teyam, teyam!” you’re practically screaming now, feeling the knot about to unravel as your brows furrow in pleasure.
“what is it, beautiful?” he asks, pulling away momentarily to talk before delving back in. “i-i think.. i think i’m close” you whine, writhing beneath him. “yeah? gonna cum for me sweet girl?” he spoke into your cunt, tongue beginning to circle your clit as he keeps sucking. “mhm! y-yeah, fuck!” you squeal, panting before his movements get more intense, finally coaxing you over the edge as he grips your legs tightly. “that’s it sweetheart, always so good for me” he murmured, crawling back over you gently once your shaking body stills.
he laid next to you on your tiny bed, reaching an arm out for you and pulling you into his chest. you felt your body melting into him when you rested your head on his chest, breathing in deeply and relaxing in his hold. “feeling okay?” he whispered softly, running his hand over your back in soothing motions. you only nod your head, your eyes starting to close a little as you fought to stay awake, not wanting the moment to be over yet. he noticed this, chuckling softly as you felt the rumble of his laugh beneath you in his chest. “i can see that you’re tired, y/n. why don’t we just enjoy each others presence for tonight, hm?”
you looked up at him with a pout, your brows furrowed adorably as you lifted your head slightly to see him better. “you didn’t get to finish though. i wanna make you feel good too” you say, starting to lift your body up slowly and throwing a leg over his hip, propping yourself up to sit on top of him. he only pulls you back down to him, your legs still straddling his hips. “believe me, that was REAL good for me too. we’ll focus on the rest another night, okay?” he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you absentmindedly tilting your face further into his palm as you looked down at him. he smiled at you, thumbing at your adorable pout. “rest. i’m getting tired too here, and i only have a few more hours with you until i have to go back”
with that, you let your body relax and rest against him, feeling him press a kiss to your temple as you prayed for the time to go by slow, not wanting to let him go back home just yet.
#neteyam#neteyam x reader#avatar#avatar the way of water#neteyam x you#avatar twow#neteyam sully#neteyam x human!reader#neteyam sully x reader#avatar x human reader#avatar x fem reader#divider by cafekitsune
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For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)
Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)
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The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.
“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.
“Michael?”
“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”
“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”
That gets the laugh he was looking for.
“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”
Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.
“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.
“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.
Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.
“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.
“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.
Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.
Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.
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He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.
“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.
It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.
“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”
No answer.
The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.
But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.
Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.
A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.
He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.
As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise donnie#rise mikey#rise kendra#Kendratello au#ask slushie#rottmnt writing#kendratello au ask
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“How I transformed my body in 90 days” type video but I’m becoming a Renaissance Woman. Vlog footage of me reading the classics for hours on end, writing vocabulary lists, drawing in my sketch book to epic music. On day 15 I talk about how I’m slowly adjusting to my elaborate home cooked meals and how I struggle with the genealogy of the Borgias. There are montages of me educating myself on history, astrology, astronomy and dressing well, I take horseback riding lessons and go to museums. Erasmus, Machiavelli and Lucretius are stacked on my bedside table.
There’s a segment where I say “it’s day 53 and I’m really struggling… I can’t even write a sonnet. I don’t see any improvement in myself. Is this even worth it?!” The stakes are rising. I’m shown ripping up pages of rhymes in calligraphy. I swear as I rush around the kitchen, trying to prepare my oysters. I sit at my desk and sigh, head in hands, my desk covered in stacks of notes, huge volumes on art history and printed out articles. The dramatic moment comes when I for the nth time try to walk and gesture with sprezzatura while balancing books on my head for better posture. I fall. The books topple to the floor. I’ve reached rock bottom.
Black screen. Voice over: “It was really hard. I felt like Dante, in the dark forest, having lost my way. And then, I realised what I needed: I had to go on a grand tour.”
Music swells again, there’s a montage of me packing and travelling in busses and trains. Landscape rushes past. I read Goethe’s Italienische Reise on the journey. Finally, there are snippets of me in Munich, in Vienna. I take a selfie in front of Parmigianino’s self portrait in a convex mirror, showing off my own elegantly contorted hand. I’m in Florence, breathing heavily with excitement as I walk along the outside walls of the Galleria degli Uffizi. “Oh my god, there he is—“ I film the Petrarch statue, the phone visibly shaking. “I can’t believe I get to meet him…” I whisper with awe. Cut. I’m blowing a kiss at the right Grace in Botticelli’s Spring (I have a crush on her). I’m in the Loggia di Psiche in Rome, I’m kneeling on a bridge in Venice to touch it, “Tintoretto walked on these very stones..”, I’m filming the ceiling of the Camera Degli Sposi in Mantua. I’m in the streets of Grasse showing off a bottle of Fragonard perfume I bought, I’m teary eyed in front of the Concerto Campestre in the Louvre. Cut.
I’m back home. “It’s now day…79. Those were the most unrealistic two weeks of my life. And the most expensive. But now I’m back on track. I feel like I can really do this.” With newfound vigour I get back to my battered Reclam German/Latin edition of Ovid’s Metamorphosis. Day 81, 85, 89. Emotional/hopeful music. I show a Shakespeare sonnet written in beautiful calligraphy. I’m in the museum sketching the composition of an annunciation and taking notes on a Venus by Cranach. I practice a speech I’ve written following Cicero’s rules on rhetoric. I’m back on horseback. I present a cake of some sort.
DAY 90. I’m at my desk. “Wow, what a journey. Now let’s see the transformation I underwent in those 90 days.” I show side by side footage of me from day 1 and day 90. I look the same, except day 90 me is wearing all black, Castiglione style, and has better posture. Back to the desk. “I changed so much. I learned so much about myself and my limits. I’m still not fluent in Latin or Italian. But what I learned is that beauty is everywhere, especially in the struggle, and it’s worth cherishing. And now, I’m back and stronger and more curious than ever. If you haven’t followed me on tumblr @Museenkuss at this point, what are you doing? Click the follow button and give this post a like because NOW, the fun really begins. A renaissance woman never stops learning.” From under the desk, I grab two books and put them on my desk. The Tale of Genji and Sei Shōnagon’s pillow book. “It’s time to expand my horizon.” Black screen.
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