#Lost myself a bit in the poetry of it all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

serpentandlily · 11 months ago

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The Crow's Poet - Azriel x Reader

The Crow’s Poet - Azriel x Reader

Summary: All of Azriel's attempts to get his mates attention are ignored and he realizes he was going to have to…resort to poetry, something he thought he’d never have to do.

Warnings: none

a/n: based on this request!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“He’s hiding something,” you muttered.

The masks he wears slips when the doors close.

“He wears masks? How odd.”

You chewed on your thumb, contemplating why that would be important information.

He cries himself to sleep after he leaves the witch’s room.

“But he was a monster before we were even trapped down here,” you whispered, thinking about your High Lord and the times he had deigned to visit Hewn City.

He is a master of secrets.

“If you say so,” you scoffed under your breath. Apparently a master of wearing masks. Maybe it was his own way of mocking Tamlin.

“Y/n?” Yara, one of the other servants, called out as she opened the kitchen doors. “Who are you talking to?”

The second the door had swung open your two shadow crows had disappeared, leaving you alone in the corridor. Your cheeks turned red and you stood, rubbing the back of your neck.

“U-uh,” you stuttered. “Myself?”

She rolled her eyes before grabbing you by the sleeve and yanking you back inside the kitchen. “Do you have to be such a weirdo all the time?”

Embarrassment crawled through you at her words. But it wasn’t the first time you had been called weird, or strange, or off-putting. You were a freak in the eyes of many.

Your entire life had been spent in a tiny room in your father’s home in Hewn City, shackled to the wall. Because you had been sheltered during your childhood, you had never developed any social skills like the other daughters of Lords.

You didn’t grow up alongside your peers. The only thing you had in that room with you were the shadows. Shadows that began to take the form of crows.

At some point, they had started talking to you. And you had started talking back. But you were certain you had gone crazy—that you had lost your mind. So you kept it a secret to this day.

Your father hardly let you out anyways, claiming that he needed to keep you pure for when he would offer you up to some Lord for marriage once you were of age. But that day never came because Amarantha had shown up and trapped you all under this mountain.

You were only sixteen when it happened but almost forty years had passed since then. So you had been a prisoner your whole life, essentially. At least down here you had some freedoms to roam about.

Later that night, you found yourself growing more curious about your High Lord after what your shadows had told you. So you mustered up a cocoon of them and used them to slip through walls and doors until you found yourself in the corner of the High Lord’s chambers.

You hid in the shadows, waiting for his return. Mainly out of pure curiosity and boredom. There was only so many times you could play chess against your crows before you lost all interest in it.

The door swung open and the High Lord stalked in, muttering to himself as he did. He slammed the door shut behind him, making you jump a bit in the shadows. You watched as he undid his coat, tossing it onto the bed. His fingers found the buttons of his shirt and your face turned red.

You were ready to disappear in the shadows again, not wanting to watch him undress, when he paused suddenly and sniffed the air. You watched curiously as he twisted in place, examining each corner of his room.

But he couldn’t see you. Not while you were the shadows, right?

Wrong.

His hand was around your throat before you could blink and he yanked you right out of the shadows. You choked in surprise, your eyes widening to full circles. He snarled at you, darkness beginning to drip off every inch of him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Rhysand growled. “And what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

He loosened his grip on your throat enough for you to answer.

"N-No one. I'm no one," you squeaked out, grasping at his wrist with your hands.

Rhysand examined the shadows around you that began to form into the familiar crows. He raised an eyebrow. "A shadowsinger? But I thought...Interesting."

Shadowsinger? You had never heard of the term before.

"A shadow what?" you exclaimed. "I don't sing!"

Rhysand ignored your outburst, glaring at you. "Who sent you here to spy on me? Who are you working for?"

"No one," you gasped. "I'm not working f-for anyone. The shadows told me y-you, um, liked to wear masks and I thought that was a bit odd so I wanted to see for myself."

Rhysand looked at you like you had suddenly grown three heads. But his hand loosened a bit more so you kept talking, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth. "Speaking of, I-I, uh, don't see any masks in here. Where do y-you keep them?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The masks?" you stammered. "Like I said...the shadows said you wear them and everything--"

"I don't—" Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He finally let you go and you slid down the wall, panting for air. 'What court are you from?"

"Yours," you answered, before your eyes widened again. "Oh Gods, am I supposed to bow to you? How does this work? I've never—"

"Stop. Just...stop," Rhys murmured. His face was stuck in thought. He stroked his jaw, staring down at you. "You're from the Court of Nightmares?"

You nodded in answer.

"Another shadowsinger in my court and I was unaware. Why haven't I learned of you until now?"

"I don't sing!" you squabled. "No one knows about my shadows...except you now, I guess."

A grin bloomed on Rhysand's face, one full of deadly intent as he studied your smaller form on the floor at his feet. "No one else knows about your shadows? Not even your family?”

You shook your head, staring up at him with wide eyes. You watched his eyes glaze over in deep thought before he chuckled to himself. That did truly alarm you and you rose cautiously.

“I think you and I are going to be good friends, little shadow. Very good friends."

And that was how you started working for Rhysand. The next ten years were spent with the High Lord, doing whatever he requested of you, which was usually spying on those under the mountain. The two of you developed an unlikely friendship with each other.

When Feyre came along and finally released you all, Rhys brought you home with him, offering you an official job in his court. Not wanting to return to your father, you were more than happy to accept.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel had been relieved when his brother had finally returned to them after forty-nine years apart. Relieved and then intrigued as he spotted the small figure peeking out from behind Rhysand with her big doe eyes. Rhysand had brought a little pet home with him, apparently. A little shadow as he affectionately called her.

He was taken aback by her once she had finally stepped out from behind Rhys. She was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He hardly noticed the crow perched on her shoulder, so taken by her beauty.

His shadows had danced along his shoulders at the sight of her and he didn’t quite know what to make of their behavior until Rhys finally introduced you to the family.

Another shadowsinger.

Someone just like him.

He couldn’t lie. A million emotions had rushed through him at that moment but the most prominent one was a sort of instant affinity towards you. His own shadows had swirled around your crows, like even they found comfort in knowing there was someone else in the world that was like them—like him.

Later that night, as he watched you ascend up the stairs to your new room, you glanced over your shoulder at everyone one last time. Your eyes met his and the air was knocked out of his lungs like someone had landed a heavy blow to his sternum.

The one thing he had been dreaming of, hoping for, came to life. The mating bond snapped into place, a long golden string tying you to him. But you hadn’t faltered a step, merely turned around and retired to your room.

The bond hadn’t snapped for you, but that wasn’t alarming. It usually took a while for the female to feel it. In his panic, Azriel had dropped his mental shields and practically screamed his thoughts to Rhys about what had just happened.

Rhys was already planning on having Azriel give you lessons on your magic. It only made sense. He was over five hundred years old with more knowledge about his shadows than you at the young age of sixty-five. So he began his plans to push the two of you together.

For Azriel, it was like hitting two birds with one stone. He would train you on how to use your shadows more effectively and in turn, would also be spending time around you. Which would lead you to realizing the bond between you and him and hopefully, hopefully, you would be just as overjoyed about it as he was.

Azriel wasn’t conceited by any means, especially considering the nasty state of his hands, but he had gotten quite used to females and males falling at his feet for his attention.

You, however, seemed entirely unmoved by his appearance. Every subtle hint he tried to drop was ignored or just not noticed by you. You didn’t notice him when he sat next to you at dinner, didn’t ogle him when he took off his shirt during training, didn’t admire his wings when he sunned them while you were outside in the gardens.

Everything he did to try to capture your attention failed.

You were making him feel flustered—he was not used to having to put so much effort into chasing after others. Normally he was the one being chased.

Leave it to the Mother to gift him with a mate who was so utterly unaffected by his presence. On one hand, he enjoyed it. You never seemed afraid of him, never looked at his hands with disgust or pity. But on the other hand, you never seemed to notice him the way he wanted you to.

The war came and went, leaving him to realize he was going to have to change tactics with you. He was going to have to court you. He was going to have to…resort to poetry—something he never thought he’d have to do.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were reading a book in the River House’s main sitting room, waiting for dinner to start. It was another family dinner night and everyone who didn’t currently live at the River House would likely be coming sometime soon.

So when the door opened and closed, you didn’t bat an eye. Didn’t even turn around as you heard footsteps coming down the foyer to where you sat. Not until someone cleared their throat behind you.

You twisted around on the settee to see Azriel standing in the archway with a bundle of flowers in his hand. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he needed.

“Good evening, Y/n,” he said, his deep voice filling the space between you two.

A bit of anxiety began to climb up your throat, a common feeling whenever someone approached you. You still were not used to socializing with others, still hadn’t quite gotten used to even having people other than Rhysand want to talk to you.

“Hi,” you squeaked, closing your book shut a bit too hard. You winced at the noise.

He strided over to you, his wings tucked tight behind him like he was nervous. Even his shadows seemed to buzz around the air more frantically than normal.

“I brought these for you,” he said, holding out the flowers to you.

You blinked, looking between him and the flowers in confusion. What did he expect you to do with those?

You hesitantly reached out and took them from him, smiling awkwardly. The flowers were beautiful, the petals a soft silver, almost glowing like the moon.

“Oh, um, thank you?” You choked out the words, rising from the settee. You tucked your book against your chest like it would shield you from him.

He frowned a bit. “Do you…not like them?”

“N-no!” You stuttered. “No, I mean y-yes! Um, thank you. Again.”

“You're welcome,” he said with a tiny nod. Azriel’s lips twitched upwards, like you had just said something funny.

“I'm gonna go, um, do something with these.”

You brushed past Azriel before he could respond and scurried from the room, your heart pounding in your chest. The others still made you nervous but not quite like Azriel did. It was his presence alone that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“What the heck does he want me to do with these?” You hissed to your shadow crow who landed on your shoulder.

Perhaps he wants you to plant them in the garden with the other flowers.

You smacked your head with your book. “Oh my gods, duh! Why didn’t I think of that?”

You still had thirty minutes until dinner so you made your way outside to the gardens. You peered around, looking for an empty spot of dirt, which was hard because of all the work Elain had done out here.

You finally spotted one and set your book down on the metal wire table outside. When the weather was nice enough, sometimes Feyre and Rhysand would host dinners out here, at this table.

You scuttled over to the edge of the stone path and knelt on the ground. You began digging a small hole, unsure of how deep you were supposed to go.

You were so concentrated on your efforts that you failed to notice the people who began to come out from the back door.

You placed the stems of the flower in the hole, pushing some dirt around so they stood up straight.

“Y/n? What on earth are you doing?” Feyre exclaimed from behind you, causing you to jump in fright.

You looked over your shoulder to see nearly the entirety of the Inner Circle, all taking seats at the table behind you.

You stood up, wiping your dirty hands on your skirt.

“Azriel wanted some flowers planted,” you shrugged, looking towards the male who was now staring at you with total bewilderment on his normally unreadable face.

He blinked and then shook his head, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“What?” Cassian blurted out.

You looked between everyone, not sure why they were so confused. Was it not normal to bring someone flowers to plant?

“He brought me some flowers,” you explained slowly, “to plant out here.”

Rhys reached out and ruffled the hair on the top of your head, fondly, as he held back his laughter. Several of them shared a look, lips pressing together like they were stopping themselves from laughing. All except Cassian who looked at Azriel and then tossed his head back, cackling with amusement.

It was Mor who took pity on the shadowsinger.

“That was very nice of you, Azriel,” she said, smoothly, kicking Cassian under the table.

“Yeah,” Cassian said in between his struggles to stop laughing. “How nice of you, Az.”

Later that night, Nesta had pulled you aside to offer you a book.

“Read this,” she had said. “I think it’ll help.”

She left the book in your hands with a wink.

You stayed up all night reading the book—blushing red at some of the words written on the pages. But when you got to the part where the male love interest brought the girl flowers, you were mortified.

Azriel had given you those as a gift…to put in a vase, wherever you pleased. The girl had put them on her nightstand in the book.

But that didn’t make sense to you because Azriel was your friend. He wasn’t interested in you like that. But maybe, friends also brought friends flowers? The whole thing confused you and you went to bed that night utterly perplexed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Come on,” Azriel encouraged, his arms around your neck, pulling your back tight against his front. “I’ve taught you how to get out of this hold.”

You were currently having a one-on-one combat lesson with Azriel, something you two had been doing for awhile. He had suggested it to you after you started training with the Valkyries and you agreed, a part of you wanting to spend more time with him.

You liked Azriel and even though he made you feel a little more uncomfortable than the others, you had taken to him. It wasn’t that the feelings were bad, necessarily. It was just, he made you feel all tingly inside and that often made you flustered around him.

You grabbed a hold of his wrists like he had taught you, pulling them away from your neck as you got one leg behind his. You knew what he wanted you to do from here, but you wanted to surprise him for once. Wanted to catch him off guard.

Your crows squawked their encouragement from the sidelines.

“What are they telling you?” Azriel asked, suspiciously. His breath tickled the tip of your pointy ear, making your body shudder. You could’ve sworn his tensed in response.

“Nothing,” you chimed, innocently.

And then you swept his legs out from under him, ducking out of his hold in his confusion and shoving him in the back so he fell face forward onto the mat. You pounced after him, landing with your knees around his hips, pressing your hands down on his shoulder blades between his wings so he couldn’t get up.

“Got you!”

Azriel’s body vibrated with his chuckle. “Oh, you think so?”

He bucked you off of him, causing you to squeal, as he turned himself over and flipped your positions, leaving you on your back under him. He smirked at you, some of his fluffy dark brown hair dangling down on his forehead, almost touching yours.

“Got you,” he drawled.

"No fair," you pouted, crossing your arms under him.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach at the feeling of his body against yours. You sent a crow after him, pecking him on the back of the neck, to get him to move, unsure of how long you could handle that feeling without saying something stupid.

He sat up on his haunches, batting it away with a glower at you. "What's not fair?"

"You're not fair! You weigh the same as a horse," you grumbled. "I bet you eat rocks for breakfast, you big bat."

He chuckled, standing up and reaching his gloved hand out to help you up. "I assure you, I do not eat rocks...not for breakfast, at least."

So he did eat rocks? How odd, you thought. But if chefs could make turnips taste good, maybe they could make rocks edible? Maybe like a rock soup or tiny pebble croutons. Did all Illyrians eat rocks?

Once you were up, Azriel began to smooth out your hair. The gesture felt intimate and you blushed a bright pink. He seemed to notice, judging by the slight smile on his face. You frowned at him.

"Come on, don't be a sore loser," he teased, putting a hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the water station. "Our time today is up, anyways."

"How convenient for you," you murmured under your breath, causing him to laugh again. Your crows flew a lap around the training ring, as if the noise delighted them. It may have delighted you as well.

His hand moved around your waist until it dipped down to grab your own hand. “Allow me to make it up to you?”

“How?” You glanced up at his towering figure.

“Let me take you to dinner,” he said, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Tonight.”

“O-oh, okay,” you stammered out.

He smiled, exposing the small dimple on the right side of his cheek that made him look more boyish than normal. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

He pulled you closer to him and a second later, you were engulfed in shadows, only to reappear on the doorstep to the River House.

“Good.” He dropped your hand finally and you clutched it to your chest. “I’ll come get you at seven.”

You nodded, feeling a bit breathless and he dipped his head at you before disappearing into the shadows and leaving you and your pounding heart alone on the doorstep.

Dinner that night felt like a dream. Azriel had shown up right on time, waiting for you in the foyer of the River House. He took you to a small restaurant on the side of the Sidra and you spent most of the night admiring the way he looked under the faelights.

Had he always been so beautiful?

You couldn’t remember.

After dinner, Azriel had taken you on a walk near the river. The moonlight reflected off the dark water, lighting the path. You stumbled upon a cool looking rock and eagerly picked it up, holding it out for him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, taking the rock from your hand.

“Your dessert,” you exclaimed, closing his fingers around the rock before stepping back.

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed and you decided you liked the way he looked when he was confused.

“Earlier, you said you didn't eat rocks for breakfast.” You rubbed at your arm. “So that must mean you eat them at some point of the day. So I thought, maybe you save them for dessert?”

By the time you were done talking, Azriel’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline. You were surprised when a barking laugh exploded out of him, your cheeks turning pink. You hesitantly smiled, not quite sure why he was laughing but loving the sound of it anyways.

“I take it you, um, don’t eat rocks?” You smiled sheepishly.

“That was a joke, Y/n,” he laughed, his hazel eyes shimmering gold and green.

“Y-yeah, of course it was!” You tried to play it off but you couldn’t hide your embarrassment.

He put the rock in his pocket as his laughter settled down. He placed both hands on the side of your head, kissing your forehead as he mumbled with affection, “What are we going to do with you?”

“Hopefully nothing bad,” you squeaked.

Azriel shook his head again with a soft laugh, grabbing your hand and guiding you further down the path. “I can’t believe you really thought I ate rocks.”

“I-I didn’t!”

He only gave you a disbelieving look.

It had almost felt like a date…like the ones you read about in the books Nesta leant you. But you quickly drowned out those thoughts. Azriel was your friend. And he had taken you out tonight as a favor.

But by the time he returned you home, there was a new light inside of you. Like a song with a familiar melody that made every nerve inside of you sing to its tune.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Unfortunately, Azriel was sent on a mission not too long after the night you shared together but he had promised to write to you during the three weeks he would be gone.

You found yourself quite eager to receive them.

Little shadow, I’ve got something for you. Come to my office when you’re free.

Rhys’s voice had you setting down the dagger you had been sharpening. You sent a crow to his office, curious to know what he had waiting for you.

A letter, master.

You jumped up from your desk. It must be a letter from Azriel because you had no idea who else would be writing you.

Tell your crows to mind their own business. They’ve ruined the surprise.

You laughed to yourself as you let your shadows cocoon you and take you to Rhys’s office. You stepped out of the shadows and Rhys raised an eyebrow at you.

“Eager?” He seemed amused.

You scowled at him. “You have a letter for me?”

He nodded, picking up an envelope off his desk and holding it out for you to take. You grabbed it, recognizing the handwriting your name was written with on the front immediately.

“Would you like to tell me why my Spymaster is sending me letters for you with his mission updates, little shadow?”

Rhys’s violet eyes sparkled with stars as he waited for your reaction. Your face turned pink and you clutched the letter to your chest. “Mind your own business, Rhys,” you mocked him.

He held up his hands with a grin that told you he already knew exactly why Azriel was sending you letters. You summoned your shadows to take you back to your room.

“Hey! Where are you going? You’re not going to let me read it too?” Rhys called out.

“No!”

Rhys’s chuckled followed you the whole way back to your room.

You tore open the envelope once you were in privacy, unfolding the letter with shaky hands.

Dear Y/n,

I find my days feel slower without the joy of your company. Even my shadows seem to miss their pesky crow companions.

You blushed, feeling your crows swirl around your head as if they too were swooning. Your eyes rapidly read the rest of the letter as he mentioned tiny tidbits about the mission and how it was going, asking you if you were keeping up with your training and teasing you about settling your score with him once he returned.

A smile had bloomed on your face as you finished reading—your heart fluttering in your chest.

I will continue to write to you, little bird, and I can only hope that you write back to me as well. I dream of your voice but I suppose words will have to be enough until I can see you again.

~ Your shadowsinger

P.s I came across something in the marketplace today that reminded me of you and I cannot wait to give it to you once I return.

You didn’t think twice before sitting down at your desk and whipping out a piece of parchment and a pen. That smile lingered on your face the rest of the night.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Three weeks passed by slowly. You couldn’t count how many times you had re-read the letters Azriel had been sending you. You had even made a trip to the marketplace to find a nicely carved, wooden box to store them in.

You were currently sitting on the railing of your balcony, a small shadow crow perched on your shoulder to keep you company. It was nighttime and the streets of Velaris were lit up with music, laughter and pretty faelights.

You preferred to watch from here, rather than joining in, despite Mor’s attempts to drag you to Rita’s.

The beating of wings stole your attention from the streets and you narrowed your eyes as a flying figure came into view. Cobalt siphons shined under the moonlight and your eyes widened as you realized that figure was Azriel.

Not only that, but he appeared to be heading straight towards your balcony as if he had known you’d be out here. You quickly hopped off the railing and stepped back a few paces to give him room to land.

Azriel landed gracefully with a small thud in front of you, tucking his wings in. He looked positively lethal tonight, his elegant cheekbones sharp in the darkness, his hazel eyes glowing gold. Beautiful. He was beautiful.

“Azriel,” you whispered in a questioning tone. “I didn’t know you were back from your mission.”

“I just got back,” he said, his voice dark like the night sky. It sent a shiver down your spine. “I wanted to see you first, before I check in with Rhys.”

“O-oh,” you stammered, blushing bright pink. You rubbed at your arm, suddenly feeling exposed in just your nightgown. “Well, I’m glad you’re back. They are too.”

You gesture towards the crow sitting on your shoulder still. Azriel’s shadows swirled in tendrils towards it until it flew off, the shadows trailing behind it, like they were also catching up.

You smiled at them as they disappeared in the night sky before turning your gaze back to Azriel. His eyes swept up your form, a muscle in his jaw clenching. When his eyes met yours again, there was a small heat in them that caused the butterflies in your stomach to go haywire.

It was gone a second later and you wondered if you had imagined it. You cleared your throat. “How was the mission?”

“Good. Fine,” Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Though I’m happy to be back.”

You smiled up at him, shyly. Your voice was caught in your throat as you scrambled through your brain for something to say. But it seemed like Azriel didn’t mind your silence.

He reached a hand out, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear before stroking your cheek with his knuckles. He was staring at you so intensely, as if you were the only thing that mattered to him in the moment.

“I should go check in with Rhys,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to see your face, to make sure the one I see in my dreams is accurate.”

Your chest warmed, your blush turned red.

“I-is it?”

Your voice was a soft whisper in the gentle breeze.

Azriel shook his head with a small smile. “No. Nothing can ever compare to seeing you in person.”

His grabbed the hand dangling by your side.

“Get some rest, little bird,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles before disappearing in a swirl of shadows. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your skin tingly from his touch. Even long after you fell asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You stared at yourself in the mirror after slipping on the gown Rhysand had left for you. It was time to make a trip to the Court of Nightmares, to Hewn City—your old home. You hated these visits. They brought back terrible memories but like the rest of the court, you sucked it up for Rhys’s sake.

He had given you a silk, cobalt blue gown. It swept to the floor, flowing only slightly away from your body in an elegant sheath silhouette. Thin straps held up the form-fitting bodice with a slight cowl neckline. It was simple, but beautiful.

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from your reflection.

“One second,” you called out as you slipped on the heels you had picked out to wear with the dress before making your way to the door. You pulled it open to see Azriel standing there in his full leathers, all seven siphons gleaming in the light.

His eyes widened as they trailed over your form. You suddenly felt self-conscious. When he met your gaze again, he cleared his throat and you held the door open so he could step inside your room, trying to brush off that feeling.

“Did you need something?” You asked.

His hands were in his pocket as he turned to face you. “I wanted to give you something before we leave for Hewn City. I mentioned it in my first letter.”

You nodded, remembering his written words clearly. Gods know how many times you had trailed your fingertips over that sentence with a stammering heart.

“Okay,” you squeaked, suddenly feeling nervous.

He gestured at you to turn around and you were once again facing yourself in the mirror. He stalked towards you like an angel from hell, his wings held out like every proud Illyrian male.

He pulled a small black box from his pocket and took something out of it. With one hand, he brushed your hair to one shoulder. His fingertips grazed your bare skin, sending a small shiver through your body.

Cold metal grazed your chest as he hung a necklace around your neck, letting it fall between your breasts as he clasped it from behind.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at it. It was a beautiful necklace, a blood red heart encased in twisting gold plating. You brushed your fingers against it, admiring it as a piece of art.

“It looks beautiful on you,” Azriel whispered, his breath brushing against your throat. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed, blushing. “It’s beautiful, Azriel. Thank you.”

His scarred fingers ran down your arm softly. “You are beautiful. Absolutely stunning, Y/n. I hope you know that.”

Your lips parted, ready to say something but Rhys’s voice interrupted.

Everyone to the foyer. It’s time to go.

You twisted in Azriel’s hold, staring up at him. He smiled down at you, his hazel eyes full of warmth. He grasped your hand in his. “Shall we?”

You could only nod, still at a loss for words.

An hour later, you were resting against a pillar in Hewn City’s throne room, watching Eris twirl around with Nesta. That had been the goal tonight, to entice Eris into proposing a marriage alliance. Even though she was doing this as a favor for your rulers, you couldn’t help but admire the two dancers. Watching them was like watching a real-life fairytale from one of the romance books.

You wished someone would look at you the way Cassian stared at Nesta as she danced, wished someone would have interest in you, desire you. You didn’t use to want those things because none of it would’ve been your choice, but now? Well, you could dream.

Your mind drifted to Azriel and all the little ways he had been treating you lately. Something sparked in your chest at the thought of him. Some of his gestures did seem romantic in nature, but other times, you wondered if he just saw you the way Rhys did…a little shadow, young and inexperienced.

“Would you like to dance?”

You stood up straight, blinking as Azriel appeared in front of you. Heat crawled up your neck as you looked at the shadowsinger, trying to push away all the thoughts you just had about him. Your eyes darted from the dance floor to his pretty hazel eyes.

“Y-you want to dance?” You looked at him almost disbelieving. “With me?”

“With only you,” he murmured, giving you a small smile. He held out his hand to you and you grappled with your pounding heart as you took it. The last song had just finished, the new strings starting up as he led you to the dance floor.

He slid a hand around your waist, pulling you close as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. As usual, both of your shadows had departed, as if they were spending time on their own. Movement caught your eye and you looked up to see one of your crows perched on a railing, a small shadow tendril swishing around it.

“We have an audience,” you whispered to Azriel, nodding your head towards the shadows.

His lips twitched as he followed your gaze. It had been jarring for him at first, to be so exposed without his shadows every time he was around you. But now it was comforting, a break from the constant darkness around him.

“Better put on a show,” he teased, twirling you around in his arms.

You laughed, letting him lead you through the movements, staying on beat with every pluck of a string. You danced in silence, your eyes never straying from his hazel ones. The throne room blurred in your peripheral, making it feel like it was just you and Azriel in this room together.

“Are you doing okay?” Azriel asked. “I know you don’t like coming here.”

“I’m fine,” you stammered. “It gets easier every time—seeing my family.”

Azriel’s eyes hardened at the mention of your family. He knew the story of how you got your shadows. A story not much different than his. He hadn’t told you, but before tonight, he had made a little visit to your family’s home and threatened your father into staying away from you tonight.

“If you want to leave, just say the word,” Azriel said. “I’ll deal with Rhys.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Azriel nodded his head but his grip on your waist tightened. The pair of you did another circle around the room before he spoke again. “You know, I have you to thank for how fast I was able to complete that mission for Rhys.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You,” he drawled, “Are a good motivator. I was counting down the seconds until I could return to you.”

Your cheeks heated, those damn butterflies in your stomach returned.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you squeaked, averting your eyes, shyly.

Azriel chuckled to himself, endeared by your mannerisms. The song came to a close and he dropped his hand from your waist but didn’t let go of your other one. He pulled it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly. “Thank you for dancing with me, little bird.”

You smiled back with a dip of the head. “I-I enjoyed it.”

“Good,” Azriel grinned before his eyes glazed over for a second and he frowned. “Rhys needs me for something. I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

“Okay,” you whispered. He reluctantly let your hand fall back to your side before pulling away, heading towards the High Lord. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, clutching a hand to your chest as you headed towards the back of the room again.

You were halfway back to your pillar when you heard someone mention your name. You frozen behind a statue, peering through the gaps to see a group of three females standing together, gossiping.

“I don’t know what he sees in her,” one of them mumbled. “Probably likes her because she’s a freak like him. Such a shame he’s a lesser fae.”

“I bet the High Lord told him to court her so he could keep both shadowsingers in his court to use,” another one laughed. “She’s so strange. I saw her talking to one of her crows earlier.”

“I think she’s pretty,” the third one whispered, shyly. “Even if she’s a little strange.”

“A little?” the first one scoffed with a laugh.

You rushed away, not wanting to hear anymore. You scurried out of the throne room and down the empty corridor, finding a small alcove to hide in. Tears lined your eyes as you thought on their words. You had thought maybe Azriel liked you, had wanted him to. But it was wishful thinking. No one would ever be interested in you that way. They were right. You were too strange, too off-putting.

You wiped at your tears bitterly.

“Y/n?” Azriel’s voice came from behind you. “What are you doing out here?”

Of course, he would show up right now. While you were crying over him. You turned slowly, trying to blink away your tears. “I-I just needed a break from the crowd.”

Azriel’s face dropped as he noticed the tear tracks on your cheeks. He took a step closer, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did someone do something to you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No…No, nothing like that. I’m just…overwhelmed.”

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Azriel pleaded, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

“You’ll think I’m stupid,” you whispered.

Azriel shook his head. “Never. I would never think you’re stupid, Y/n.”

You bit your lip, looking at the floor. Part of you wanted to tell him, to get a direct answer to your questions. But the other part of you was mortified at the thought of letting him know what you heard and how you felt about him.

“Please,” he murmured again.

You let out a sigh. “I just…overheard some girls talking about me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Who?” Azriel asked, his voice a touch darker.

You shrugged, looking back up at him. “I don’t know. Just some faeries who know me from here.”

“What could they have possibly said to upset you?”

It all came pouring out before you could stop it, the words spilling from your lips so quickly they almost slurred together. “They said I was strange and weird. But that doesn’t bother me. I hear it all the time. But…but they said the High Lord probably ordered you to ‘court’ me so I wouldn’t leave the Night Court. That there was no other reason you’d be interested in me—”

“Stop,” Azriel cut you off, causing your lips to slam shut. “I don’t need to hear anymore, Y/n, because everything they said is complete bullshit. First off, Rhys would never give an order like that. You know him.”

You nodded along but the pit of your stomach still ached.

“And I am interested in you. Not your shadows or your place in this court, I’m interested in you,” Azriel said. “I…I thought that might be obvious by now.”

Your lips parted in surprise as you looked up at him with wide eyes. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, at your expression.

“Y-you,” you stammered, “You are?”

“Yes, Y/n, I am more than just interested in you,” Azriel said. “I am enamored by you. You are the one I seek out each time I enter a room. Every stolen glance, every brush of your fingers, every smile you gift me, is a treasure I hold in my heart. I am completely and utterly taken by you, Y/n. It pains me that you would doubt my affections for even a second.”

You were speechless. He had taken the breath right from your lungs. Your heart was singing that melody again, the one it had sung that night he had taken you out for dinner. You stared up at him, into his hazel eyes that looked at you with reverence and warmth. His hand still cupped your face, his other pushed a piece of hair behind your ears with a gentle touch.

“So…all those things you…all the stuff you did—”

“Yes, Y/n, I have been trying to win your heart,” Azriel interjected for you. “The way you won mine since the moment I laid eyes on you. Not a day goes by where you are not on my mind. I am and have been bewitched by you. You have my heart and soul, little bird, if you’ll have it.”

The melody playing in your soul struck its final chord, releasing a golden thread that snapped the minute you met Azriel’s eyes again. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding. Mate. Mate. Azriel was your mate.

“Y-you,” you choked out, eyes rounded. “You’re my mate.”

Azriel’s eyes were hopeful as he nodded. “Yes and you are mine.”

“You knew…this whole time?”

He nodded again. “I did but I didn’t want to force you into something. I wanted you to find out on your own, after we had spent time together.”

You swallowed audibly.

Mate.

Azriel was your mate.

You weren’t even sure what to say. Your head was buzzing as your thoughts sped through your brain. The longer you stayed silent, the more the expression on Azriel’s face dropped until he looked uncertain. But you couldn’t shake yourself from your stupor.

“Will you have me?” Azriel asked, slowly. You could feel his insecurity down the bond and you knew you had to say something—anything to reassure him.

“Yes,” you stammered. “Azriel, I… I have never felt this way about someone. I wasn’t sure I would ever. But you… I l-love you.”

You blurted out the last three words, turning bright red as you stumbled over your speech. His eyes widened.

You weren’t sure when you had fallen in love with him. Had it been that night you walked along the Sidra? Or maybe sometime during training? All you knew was what you felt for him, something that didn’t seem to have a name until this very moment.

You let out a breath as a smile overtook Azriel’s face. He rested his forehead against yours with a deep breath.

“I love you too, little bird,” he said. “You have my heart, my soul, my devotion until the end of everything.”

“And you have me,” you whispered.

Azriel pulled back to look at you, lifting your chin with a finger.

“May I kiss you?”

Your heart stuttered.

“Y-yes.”

That was all he needed to hear. Azriel surged forward and kissed you hard with so much heat, so much craving that you stumbled back against the wall. His large hands fisted the silk fabric at your waist, pulling you against him before one hand rested on your hip while the other slid into your hair slowly.

All your thoughts ceased at that moment. All you could feel was Azriel’s hard body pressed against yours, so closely you swore you could feel his own heart beating against yours. And his lips were so warm, so soft against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. Your cheeks were red, your lips swollen, and the mating bond sang it's pretty song in your chest as you gazed up at Azriel.

“We should get back,” he mumbled, though he looked like he was ready to take you right there in the middle of this corridor. “Before anyone notices us gone.”

He held his hand out to you with a smile. You took it, letting him pull you down the corridor, hand in hand, giggling like a schoolgirl the entire way back.

The crow that had been watching this whole time, swooped away to follow after you two, a small tendril of shadow following close behind.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #shadowsinger x reader

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divine-knight-hand · 10 months ago

Text

The End of an Era

Regina George Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: (Reneé Rapp's) Regina George x Female Reader

Summary: After the iconic Christmas dance fiasco, one of Regina's long-time admirers decides to make sure she's okay.

Content Warnings: Mentions of being a pervert, but fluffiness from there, brief mentions of weight change and dieting, a poetry reference, a bit of toxic behavior (and verbal degradation) but Regina is a queen and I'm wearing rose-colored glasses, nothing spicier than kissing, but their is some dubious consent (but the want is mutual!)

Notes: Christmas dance scene moment!!! I just recently saw the new Mean Girls and Regina George was all that was on my mind since. So, I quickly wrote this up. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,624

Dividers by @anitalenia

I’m no better than a man… I thought as I ogled Regina while she danced onstage.

Most of the student body didn’t care for the plastics’ “Rockin’ Around the Pole” routine, but I made sure I had the best view of it every year. I already knew before this year’s performance that it would be a little different. I recognized the group’s newest member, Cady Heron, from homeroom. Regina quickly took an interest in her when she first transferred in, and she became the newest member of the plastics.

I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. What did it feel like to have Regina look at you in fascination? What did it feel like to be taken under her wing? How many times did Cady hang out with her? How many times did Cady go to Regina’s house?

The clapping of the girls’ leather boots made me jump, and my eyes zeroed back in on Regina. No, I didn’t actually care for the performance itself, but from freshman year, when I first saw Regina in the same tight-fitting crop top, short skirt, long gloves, and thigh-high boots, I was awe-struck. Since then, I’d taken to watching her from afar, which was easy to do, since she always made her presence known when she entered a room. With each passing day, I grew more and more enamored with her.

I found myself instinctively leaning in once the girls set up one of the grandest moves in their performance. Karen took to the bottom as Gretchen guided Regina into a handstand on her knees from behind. I willed my eyes down to Regina’s face once she made it into position.

Though I spent the performance letting my eyes travel along her body–looking at her thighs in the space between her skirt and boots, her exposed sliver of midriff under her crop top, and watching the way her beach blonde waves fell to frame her gorgeous breasts–I would not be perverted enough to hone in on her crotch as her skirt flipped. My mind might already be in the gutter, but I’d still have a little class.

I’d noticed that her clothes seemed to be fitting her a little tighter than normal this year. There were rumors floating around that Regina was gaining weight, but I also heard that she was on some health kick with special weight loss bars, so that couldn’t have been possible. It had to have just been in my head.

Or so I thought.

Suddenly, Karen’s legs began to shake, and as Regina lost her balance, Gretchen lost her grip, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground in front of a surprised Cady. The audience let out a unanimous gasp as Regina hit the floor face-first. Oh, shit!

It didn’t take long for all the cameras to start flashing, and the look on Regina’s face told me she knew that her life as the untouchable leader of the plastics was quickly coming to a close.

I figured that famous poet who said the world doesn’t end “with a bang but a whimper” clearly didn’t consider the fact that a teenage girl’s world could get explosive in an instant, without a single warning. I’m sure they’d change their mind once they met Regina George.

The curtains began to close, but not before I saw Regina take to her feet and speed backstage. I felt terrible for her. Was she one of the meanest people in the school? Yes. But, I was also in love with her- I mean- a firm believer that nobody deserved that level of humiliation. Not even mean girls. So, out of a sense of heartache and longing to comfort her, I did what any normal and not creepy person would do. I jumped out of my seat and went after her.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I couldn’t actually follow Regina backstage, since I wasn’t in the talent show, so I ducked into the bathroom closest to the auditorium. As soon as I opened the door, I saw her, and my heart leapt into my throat.

She slammed her fists down on the sink in front of her, letting out an angry growl.

I gently closed the door behind me, not wanting to alert her yet, but my shoe audibly squeaked against the floor, and Regina’s head snapped in my direction.

I gasped once I saw her. It was an instant, and she quickly turned away, but after she made mascara tears a school-wide trend, it was hard not to notice when they were on her face.

“Get out.” She spat, still facing the other way.

“I- I wanted to see if you were okay.” I stammered.

“I didn’t say to start spewing mushy shit,” She insisted in that same cold tone. “I said to get the hell out.” When I didn’t immediately move, she roared. “NOW!”

I reeled backwards in surprise when she got loud, feeling an instant sense of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll go.” I turned to grab the door handle, but paused when I heard her sniffle again. “You know, I come to see your performance every year.”

“Yeah, everyone does, because I’m amazing.” I turned my head to see Regina impatiently drumming her fingers on the sink, gloves long abandoned. “What, did you think you were different?”

“No,” I admitted. “I know that nothing I do really sets me apart from anyone else in this hellhole.” She snorted at my remark, and I dared to slowly approach her. “So, yeah, I’m just like everyone else. I came to see your dance. I follow all the trends you set. I turn my head whenever you walk into a room. Hell, whenever you turn up, you’re all I can see.”

She snapped her head back to me, her face set in a stoic expression. “Are you mocking me right now?”

“No, no!” I stopped my advancements, waving my hands to emphasize. “I would never!” I moved my hands to my pockets, eyes drifting down to my shoes. “If anything, I was mocking myself. I’m just like any other nobody in North Shore. I honestly wouldn’t expect you to recognize me. Sorry for bothering you.” I bit my lip in shame, debating whether or not I should leave.

A beat of silence passed before I made up my mind to go, but before I had the chance, Regina spoke up. “You’re Y/N L/N.”

My jaw dropped.

“Ew.” Regina closed the gap between us, coaxing my mouth closed with a hand under my chin. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” I muttered, heat creeping into my cheeks. She touched me! She actually touched me!

“I do know you.” Regina went on. “It’s a bit hard not to notice when someone’s practically stalking you.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation. “I… I…”

A faint smile stirred at her painted red lips. “Especially when they’re as cute as you are.”

What? “What?”

“Ugh, get your ears cleaned.” She rolled her eyes. “I said I think you’re cute. Do you honestly think I’d let you creep on me if you weren’t?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Sorry about that…”

“Don’t be.” Regina moved my hand before wrapping her arms around my neck. “I liked your eyes on me.” She pressed her body against mine, and I hoped she couldn’t feel my heart fluttering. “Everyone watches me, of course, but you’re the only one I like watching me.”

“Regina…” I breathed.

“Oh. My. God.” Regina scoffed. “Stop being such a prude and wrap your arms around me. What are you, a nun?”

“S- sorry…” I muttered, moving my hands from their tense position at my sides to hold her. I felt electricity under my fingers once they made contact with the skin of her midriff.

“That’s… better.” Regina ran her tongue over her teeth, like a hungry shark eying its prey. “I don’t wanna kiss you without your hands on me.”

WHAT?! “Wha-” She cut me off by pulling me into the promised kiss.

She rolled her body against mine, and I sighed, my eyes fluttering shut as I let her tongue into my mouth. Her hands clawed against my back as she tried to pull me closer.

She pulled away, only to keep kissing my face. She kissed all over my cheeks before trailing her kisses along my neck to the collar of my shirt. I shivered as one of her hands pulled at my shirt, and I felt her lips against the sweet spot in my neck.

“Regina…” I breathlessly sighed. “I adore you…”

“I know~” I felt her mouth spread into a grin against my mouth.

Then, all too soon, she pulled away from me, fixing her hair as she looked me up and down.

“You came to ask me if I was okay, right?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Y- yeah,” I stuttered, still in shock from our kiss.

“Well, I’m better now~” She winked. “So, thanks for that.”

Before I could even formulate an idea on what I could possibly say next, she was out the bathroom door.

What just happened? I wondered just before my reflection caught my eye. I was covered in blotches of red lipstick. It was scattered on my cheeks, coloring my neck, and smudged across my lips.

I gingerly reached a hand up to admire myself. I was all marked up. I was Regina’s.

After tonight, we knew Regina might not have been queen of the plastics anymore, but I hoped that she left the room with the understanding that she would always be a queen to me. Her world didn’t end with a bang or a whimper. It ended with a kiss.

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls movie #regina george #mean girls fanfiction #regina george x reader

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 4 months ago

Text

an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1

-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."

words ◦ 5k

genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride

warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,

a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).

also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will

A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak

masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea

The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.

It was ironic really.

Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.

That mouth just didn't want your passion-

Your fervor-

Your ardor-

Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through.

Chan was filled with passion.

Chan was filled with ardor.

Chan was filled with romance.

But Chan didn't want poetry-

Chan spilled too much soul into songs.

Songs that made him too busy for you.

The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages-

Your love was often-

Lost in translation.

You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid

all of this was so stupid

your feelings-

stupid

your issues-

stupid

the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-

stupid

Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages?

What the hell does that even mean?

You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction.

Why were you always stuck?

stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-

stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.

stupid

“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.

Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.

the same

Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.

"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.

"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities.

"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.

you're always busy

You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.

"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out.

stop

You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.

then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?

He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."

When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms.

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.

does he not care?

"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard.

he didn't even kiss you

1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds

That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.

that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper

1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now

16 seconds

17 seconds

You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.

Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.

You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.

Of course, it wasn't chan

Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.

Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down.

"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.

"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."

You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.

"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?

"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."

Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.

"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."

He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.

His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.

Well, that was a bust.

Why couldn't he just be normal around you?

"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

He was cute

Why haven't you talked to him before?

"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."

He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?

"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.

"Oh?"

"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?

(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)

Why was he making you feel so jittery?

"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.

Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.

"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table.

Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.

You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.

So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.

"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."

"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.

"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.

You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.

"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."

"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills.

"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.

"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.

"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character.

"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?

well that was melodramatic

"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.

"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.

"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"

"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.

Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse

“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”

He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.

that must have sounded so self-centered

"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered.

“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest.

Why was he so ...amazed

"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down.

but right now not so much

“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.

basically, something that will never happen never ever

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.

What do you write?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.

Why do you do this to yourself??

Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-

stupid. stupid. stupid.

To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably.

Fuck it

“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully.

“Elaborate”

A man of many annoying questions you see

“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically.

"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.

"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ.

"I do."

Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-

He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.

From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.

Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.

"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.

"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."

He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.

"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.

Why did everybody act like you were crazy?

Was there something wrong with you?

You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.

"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.

How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?

"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.

"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.

"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.

Two can play at that game-

"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.

You had one more trick up your sleeve-

You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.

Now, where's the happy ending in that?

(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )

He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—

No, stop it, bad y/n.

"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice-

you narrow your eyes,

"What will Chan think?"

"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"

"Tell that to Chan-"

"Maybe I will." His lips-

"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.

Check-

He scoffs. Moves his bishop.

You're right back where you started.

"You're not his pet."

"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.

"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.

Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.

Too many outcomes.

Do you even still want to play?

Weren't you the one who started the game?

You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.

Should you have really asked for his number?

What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?

Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.

"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.

"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-

Before-

"I can try."

Checkmate

And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created-

You run away.

“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.

“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—

How long has it been since you've been touched?

Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.

His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.

Your breath hitches.

Body shutters.

Every atom erupting in flames.

The elevator doors slam open-

Your brain clicks back into place-

“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.

“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.

“Yes, you do.”

I do?

The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.

But that wasn't you talking-

That was the hopeless part of your personality,

The unrealistic-

The fiction-

Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book.

You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.

You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.

There's no way.

Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.

There's no fucking way.

You pull it out.

It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.

XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.

Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.

Read Chapter 2 here

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sancta-seraphina · 1 month ago

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Hi, I hope this isn't too complex a question. What books would you recommend for someone looking to get into angels? I'm looking for anything... lore, other novels to read, comics, whatever you can offer

Oh man, please don't apologize, this is exactly my type of question! Also this post got a bit long.

Obviously, there are tons of references for lore. If you're looking for a basic run-down of angels in the Bible itself, I'm writing a series of posts on that subject specifically, even if updates are few and far between right now (I'm so, so sorry, the ballet eats all of my time):

[Biblically Accurate Angels Part I - Seraphim, Cherubim & Ophanim]

[Biblically Accurate Angels Part II - The Named Angels]

This is because the easiest and most accessible information on angels is in the Bible itself (and hey guess what—you can read the Bible for free online! If you need a translation suggestion, I would go for the ESV bibles, and there's a Catholic edition of the ESV if that's an issue. You could also get the NCB which is what I cited)

If you don't mind chewy literature, then I'd say please read Pseudo-Dionysius' De Coelesti Hierarchia, or St. Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologica. I cite both of these in my posts on angels since they're rather standard sources of information on them, and they're also where the Catholic church gets its canon from.

A great reference, even if I don't particularly agree with everything stated in it, is Gustav Davidson's A Dictionary of Angels. Most people look at it for angel names, but I'm very interested in his sources, since many of them I've not yet managed to get my little paws on.

I'm not even going to get into my favorite sources of angel lore because this is enough for someone just looking to start. I can do a separate post on those if people want them.

Now. Moving on from lore.

For classic literature, my two obvious recommendations are for The Divine Comedy and Paradise Lost. Over on IG, myself and Jami (@a-thenais) made a little book recommendation post. [You can find it here]. Being the angels nerds we are, everything is pretty on theme and has poetry, scripture, classics... the only thing we didn't do is current angel literature.

So for that, if you want a popular series, than I'd say go take a look at @nicosraf's Angels trilogy, especially since he just announced a new short novel coming out in December!

I personally also like @marsadler's First Creation, although I'd recommend his works mainly for horror fans.

And lastly, if you don't mind waiting/are keeping a list of angel books that are coming out, well, of course I'd suggest my own series [The Divine Tragedy], even if horror isn't everyone's cup of tea. The main series (Holiest, The Harrowing, & Heresiarch) and the series of novellas (The Infernal Apocrypha) are heavy on the horror, but in my last project, the Sepher Metatron, only the third part has horror in it, and the rest of it is more palatable to non-horror fans (the very first part of the book is also fully illustrated)

But if you can read Italian, then I'd also suggest @a-thenais' Nova Apocrypha Vulgata series! These are three novels (Thanatos, Hybris, & Afasia) that she is working towards publishing, and a few additional works too. You can read about them on her tumblr, and I've done multiple fanarts for them. We also tend to consider TDT and NAV 'twins', so if TDT is something you want to read, NAV will also something you'd probably like!

If you want to follow some angel artists, then please check out my pals @ultrainfinitepit (who makes gorgeous angel pins which I hoard) and @helplessavacado, both of whom have their own unique styles and stories as well.

#asks #apologies for the post being so long #i rambled quite a bit #long post #seraphina.txt #sorry this took me a few days to get to as well

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sachaa-ff · 1 month ago

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Gwayne Hightower x Female Velaryon

Here the daughter of rhaenyra is named Alysanne and she’s obviously the daughter of harwin

It’s short I’m sorry.. btw English is not my first language.. so sorry for my mistake

Whispers of the Heart

The bustling streets of King’s Landing were alive with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and the distant cries of children playing. As I navigated through the throng, the weight of my family’s expectations pressed heavily on my shoulders. The air was thick with the smell of spices and smoke, but all I could focus on was one person—Gwayne Hightower.

Since I had arrived in King’s Landing, he had been a constant presence in my life, drawing me in with his charm and unwavering confidence. In the midst of the turmoil surrounding my family, Gwayne was a breath of fresh air. Today, feeling particularly overwhelmed, I sought solace in the quiet corners of the Red Keep, retreating to a secluded garden that had become my sanctuary.

As I settled onto a stone bench, a book resting in my lap, I gazed into the distance, lost in thought. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a dappled glow around me. My mind wandered to the chaotic politics of the court, the whispers of betrayal, and the ever-looming shadow of my family’s legacy. Just then, I heard a familiar voice.

“Caught in a reverie, Princess?” Gwayne called out, breaking the stillness.

I looked up, surprise flashing across my face before softening into a smile. “Gwayne! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He stepped closer, a playful grin spreading across his lips, and I felt my heart quicken. “Well, I couldn’t resist the chance to see the most intriguing person in the realm.”

His words made me blush, warmth flooding through me. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Hightower.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s hard to resist when the subject is so captivating,” he replied, leaning against the garden wall with that confident glint in his eyes. “What are you reading? Something dreary, I hope?”

“It’s actually a collection of poetry,” I said, closing the book with a gentle smile. “It helps me escape from the weight of everything.”

“Poetry, huh? I must admit, I’m more of a man of action than words. But I could use a bit of escape myself,” he said, teasingly. “Care to share your favorite poem?”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. “You really want to hear my favorite? I’m not sure you could handle the depth of it.”

“Try me,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. “I promise to give it the respect it deserves.”

His confidence was infectious, and I found myself chuckling softly. “You have a confidence that borders on reckless, Gwayne.”

“Reckless? I prefer to think of it as daring,” he shot back, a mischievous smile on his face. “Besides, I thrive on challenges.”

“Alright then, let’s see if you can keep up,” I said, feeling a playful challenge rise within me. “This one speaks of longing and lost love.”

As I recited the lines, I noticed how intently he listened, captivated not just by the words but by the passion I poured into them. Each line I spoke seemed to weave an invisible thread between us. When I finished, he applauded, that teasing grin still on his face.

“Well done! I must say, you have a future as a bard if this whole royal business doesn’t work out.”

“Flattery again?” I countered, feigning annoyance but unable to hide my smile. “You really are relentless.”

“Only when it comes to the people I admire,” he replied, his tone suddenly serious. “And I admire you, Alysanne. You carry so much on your shoulders, yet you still shine.”

His words struck a chord deep within me, and for a moment, I felt the weight of our families’ expectations lift. “It’s hard sometimes. I feel like I’m living in a shadow, especially with everything that’s happened.”

He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “You’re not defined by your family’s choices. You have your own light, and it deserves to be seen.”

I looked at him, the vulnerability in my eyes almost overwhelming. “You make it sound easy.”

“Maybe it isn’t, but it’s worth striving for,” he said, reaching out to gently brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The gentle touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel my heart racing. “Together, we can navigate the shadows.”

My breath caught at his proximity, the air charged between us. “And if we’re caught?”

“Then we’ll be caught together,” he replied, his gaze steady and reassuring. “But I’d rather take the risk than stay in the shadows, afraid to live.”

A smile tugged at my lips, and I hesitated for a moment, contemplating his words. “You really believe we can find a way?”

“I do,” he said, sincerity shining in his eyes. “Let’s carve out our own story amidst the chaos. We deserve that.”

The moment hung between us, charged with unspoken possibilities. I glanced around, ensuring we were alone, before stepping closer to him. “Alright, let’s find a way to escape this place together.”

His eyes lit up at my suggestion. “How about we explore the city? There are hidden places, quiet corners where we can truly be ourselves.”

“Lead the way, Gwayne Hightower,” I said, a determined glint in my eyes.

As we wandered through the winding streets of King’s Landing, I felt a thrill of excitement coursing through me. The lively market buzzed with colors and sounds, and I was reminded of simpler days spent exploring without the weight of expectation. But even amidst the chaos, Gwayne’s presence felt like a safe harbor. Each shared laugh and playful banter drew us closer together.

Eventually, we stumbled upon a small, secluded courtyard away from prying eyes. A fountain trickled softly in the center, and the scent of blooming flowers surrounded us like a comforting embrace. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me as I entered this hidden sanctuary.

“This place feels magical,” Gwayne said, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain. “Just like you.”

I rolled my eyes, but the compliment warmed me from the inside out. “You’re incorrigible, Hightower.”

“Incorrigible, but sincere,” he replied, his tone earnest. “I see the strength in you, even when you doubt yourself. You’re not just a princess; you’re a force.”

His words resonated within me, igniting a spark of confidence. “Sometimes it feels like the world expects me to be perfect,” I confessed, my gaze dropping to the ground. “And when I stumble, it feels like everything will fall apart.”

“Perfection is overrated,” he said, leaning closer, his presence enveloping me in warmth. “It’s our imperfections that make us human. It’s okay to feel lost sometimes. Just know that you’re not alone in it.”

I looked up, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Gwayne. It means a lot to hear that.”

He smiled, warmth flooding his gaze. “And I want to be someone you can count on. I’ll be here, even in the shadows.”

The moment stretched, and I could feel the chemistry between us intensifying. I reached out, taking his hand gently in mine, our fingers intertwining naturally. “Let’s promise to meet again. To share our dreams, fears, and everything in between.”

His grip tightened slightly, and I felt a surge of electricity at the contact. “I promise.”

As we sat together, the soothing sound of the fountain surrounding us, I felt a sense of hope blossoming within me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I knew we would face them together. Gwayne was determined to protect the light within me, and I felt the stirrings of something new and exciting.

“Let’s make this summer unforgettable,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, filled with determination.

“Together,” I replied, a smile spreading across my face.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the courtyard, I realized we were stepping into something profound—a bond forged in the fires of our families’ struggles, strengthened by shared dreams, and ignited by the undeniable connection that thrummed between us.

In that moment, the world beyond the garden faded away. The political games, the whispers of betrayal—none of it mattered as long as I was with him. I felt a rush of courage, daring to dream of a future where I could be free, where I could be more than just a princess trapped in a gilded cage.

“Tell me about your dreams, Gwayne,” I said softly, wanting to know more about the man beside me. “What do you wish for beyond these walls?”

He considered my question for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I want to be a man who stands on his own, not just in the shadow of my family. I want to carve out my own path and make a difference, not just for myself, but for others as well.”

I could see the passion in his eyes, and it resonated deeply within me. “You will,” I said, conviction lacing my voice. “I believe in you.”

“Thank you, Alysanne,” he replied, his voice softening. “And what about you? What do you wish for?”

“I want to be more than just a pawn in the game,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I want to make choices for myself, to find my own way in this world.”

Gwayne nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Then let’s help each other find that path.”

And with that, I felt a surge of hope and determination. Together, we would defy the expectations placed upon us, carving out a future that was ours alone. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I knew that this summer would be different.

It would be a time of exploration, of adventure, and of discovering who we truly were. And as I sat beside Gwayne, hand in hand, I felt the stirrings of something more—a connection that promised to transcend the chaos of our lives. Together, we would forge a new destiny, and I could hardly wait to see where it would lead us.

#house of the dragon #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #gwayne x reader #hotd gwayne #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon x reader

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wisteriagoesvroom · 10 months ago

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📚 10 f1 fics i've loved lately 🏎️

been thinking a lot about how to organise fic recs into some sort of sensible post, 'cus there are so many (great!) pairings and (delicious!) driver combinations, not to mention so many varying styles of fic and SUPER TALENTED WRITERS!!111!!

just gonna list a bunch in no particular order, with accompanying pics, so you can get a sense of the vibes.

'cus what is f1 rpf but all about the ✨ vibes?! 🏁

p.s. people are in this community making amazing stuff for freeee!! if you liked these please leave a kudos or a comment, it makes a writer's day 🫡

let's gooooo--

objects in the mirror by linearity (@drivestraight) charles/max. 87k words (series), rated t then e

listen. LISTEN! charles to rbr is one of the best premises ever and i will read it in like a thousand iterations. but this fic. this fic series in particular cleared my skin, made me want to cut my hair into a bob out of sheer emotion. i would be remiss not to start with this one because its impact on my f1 rpf trajectory should be studied by science. you know when a story just jumps off the page and it's so real that it becomes your canon. a kind of meteoric inevitability. plus, i almost never cry at fics. but by the time the third act of this one hit, i just went -- damn, am i rly about to tear up at a f1 rpf fanfiction rn? (yes.)

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sawtooth by nottonyharrison (@nottonyharrison) charles/max. 40k words, rated e

max as a f1 engineer? for CARLOS at FERRARI? sign me the fuckkk up. first off, awesome premise. there's always going to be something so heartwrenching about "what ifs", especially in any universe where max isn't a racer. despite the change of circumstances, just... the sheer poetry of two characters who just inexplicably find their way to each other in any universe... 🤧 also this story nails racing scenes in a way that's so visceral, i feel like a fly on the damn halo with them. and, aside from the gourmet lestappen, carlos's whole thing in this fic is joyous! spicy! he's so unapologetic and vaguely annoying! hilarious! + the swimming pool scene lives rent-free in my head.

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salt skin by peachbellini (@strawberry-daiquiris) oscar/lando. 12k words, rated e

this fic is magic. literally and figuratively. (MERMAID LANDO???? MERMAID LANDO.) the kind of story that makes you gasp and melt a little bit. and made me want to throw my phone at the writer, 'cause it's really that good. the yearning, the metaphor for all that's monstrous, a boy who is lost (and the boy who he finds, is equally so). this is just beautifully written and a little quirky and so well executed. i think i put it in my bookmarks as "what if lando was a mermaid and it was filmed by a24" or something. pearl of a story.

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hockey!! shrimp colors :) by leafmeal0ne (@ocontraire) oscar/lando. 13k words, rated t

leaf meal one. i have only known you a week but if anything were to happen to you i would wreck everyone in the room including myself. in all seriousness, anything that leaf writes is brilliant. they're one of these writers who could do a throwaway line on the label of a ketchup bottle and i will probably scream about it. the precision, the way they switch up sentence structures, the freaking darcy-level regency yearning transposed onto a contemporary sports setting. i'd rec all of leaf's sports AUs and i'll probably talk about more in a future fic rec post. BUT. the hockeyyy one my GOD. the barely restrained violence, their mutual desire, the theme of finding your place... *wails uncontrollably*

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you almost unearthly thing by anonymous max/daniel, 3.7k words, rated g

max is a governess(govern..lad?) and daniel is the mystery man at the manor. this was a response to a request i made in the kinkmeme! (if you haven't read those fics go check 'em out, there are so many great ones, and not necessarily all rated e). this is a criminally underrated little story that has my favourite repressed feelings + people dancing around each other + gothic vibes + "what the hell is wrong with y'all in this tale" combo that i really adore. it's really well written and captures the atmosphere so well.

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the so-called narrative by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) oscar/carlos, 10k words, rated e

i'm once again asking why there are only 7 carlos/oscar works in the tag. I'M ONCE AGAIN ASKING-- *is sedated*. *jolts awake* okay but for real this is a great story. hot, fake-friendship-to-situationship which so happens is one of my favourite places to be. also hello miscommunication/they're so weird about it/they both want each other but can't express themselves for shit/insane racer boys energy.

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and silver, and samarium by pink_mink (@on-softs) george/toto, 5.2k words, rated e

i profess i am not usually the biggest fan of A/B/O (altho!! this fandom has made me go BUT ACTUALLY HM at least a few times). and this fic freaking nails it, along with the twisted power dynamics between TPs and drivers, as seen through the lens of omegaverse. this story rattles around my head like a stubborn ghoul just from the style and prose and sheer audacity alone. george kneeling at toto's knees while he's working..... ohhhhhhhhh i was this close to calling my lawyers.

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algorithm by anney (@badboy-george) charles/max, 16k words, rated e

i LOVE, LOOOOVE a sci fi concept alright. love that shit, will inhale it like moon dust with zero regrets. and what a fantastic one this one is!! the premise is that the FIA can now statistically show the compatibility of drivers on the grid and it's very pacific rim-y drift compatible, mixed with the surreal vibes of eternal sunshine or HER or some such. it should be outrageous, but it really works. that's the beauty of a great fic right there.

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trajectory of trojan asteroids by redpaint (@redpaint) nico/lewis, 3.3k words, rated g

also one of the fics i first read when i hopped on board the f1 rpf train. the pain and poignancy just gets worse the more i learn about brocedes. you know when you're like "there's no way this was reallll" and then you're like "fuck, it was so real". then you get a fic like this that just encapsulates all that rage and loss and grief and upset, set against the starry vista of endless space. *clutches tablecloth* god.

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p.s please bear in mind that these recs are entirely subjective! i enjoy loads of f1 stories but these are the ones that have especially stuck with me for some inexplicable reason.

p.p.s if your fic is on here and you want it taken off for whatever reason, i'm happy to, no questions asked 💛

BYE for now / until part 2. (i also love talking to ppl about fics so pls feel free to send an ask or hit me up in DMs or whatever.)

xoxo, -- wizz

#f1 fic rec #f1 fanfiction #lestappen #landoscar #maxiel #groto #brocedes #f1 rpf fic #i don't know that carlos/oscar have a ship name yet?#sainztri?#Carloscar #f1 rpf #wiz.recs #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #did i spend a full hour at work doing this last week instead of my actual work?#yes -- very yes

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heartaces · 2 months ago

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𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 GALE EDITION ⟶ part one

“charming. hell is truly where we make it.”

“all right, let that anger out however you see fit.”

“i think i’ll need a drink with the rest of that story.”

“better safe than, well, dead.”

“i see the art of eloquence is alive and well.”

“i’m awed, impressed, and a little bit scared of you right now.”

“let’s try to be diplomatic, shall we?”

“the dignified thing for me to say is ‘no, of course not. forthrightness before all’, but honestly? yes… i would have rather you lied.”

“you and i have very different definitions of right and wrong.”

“given my propensity towards verbosity, it surely can’t be a surprise that i have a practised tongue.”

“if you think you know best, go right ahead.”

“allow me to live dangerously while i still can.”

“if you use that knife, i will incinerate you.”

“sweet that you care enough to murder me… mind me if you don’t?”

“i’m an open book, requiring only your gentle hands to turn my pages.”

“oh, now that can’t be comfortable. especially for the corpses.”

“don’t take this the wrong way, but i think i’ve just lost all respect for you.”

“hmm… good back support, but a little too tyrannical for my taste.”

“we all have our quirks when it comes to using magic. some more than others.”

“ha, you truly are testing the patience of a man who could level a city if he wished, you know.”

“i find you quite irresistible. even illuminated by such rotten light as this place produces.”

“i hope i didn’t make too much of an ass of myself just now.”

“that’s… it? she ‘annoyed you’? if that was just cause for killing someone i’d be dead a thousand times over!”

“might i suggest that was a little too easy?”

“well, this seems as good a time as any for me to stop babbling on.”

“the hand that feeds is the hand that’s loved. it’ll never leave your side now.”

“stop licking the damn thing!”

“i hope it has been made abundantly clear that to kill me is… counterproductive.”

“a little premature for us to start celebrating, i suppose.”

“there is poetry to be found in even the dingiest of holes.”

“destroying magic like this was my bread and butter.”

“generosity is always a noble virtue - whether it be in the streets, at the charity box, or betwixt the sheets.”

“not how i would’ve done it.”

“i suppose such wicked killers deserve wicked ends.”

“oh, i do apologize. i meant: are you studied in magic? namely: are you a wizard? which you are not.”

“your hide, your choice. not quite my cup of tea, though.”

“wonderful! the more, the merrier.”

“as an expert on the subject - i’d like to point out that blowing oneself up is never the solution.”

“i have a cat, a library, and a weakness for a good glass of wine. and if the mood takes me, i’m known to try my hand at poetry.”

“how about now you make him kiss your feet next?”

“she’s, erm, perhaps a little rough around the edges… but i suppose i can be smooth enough for two.”

#indie rp #bg3 prompts #rp meme #ask meme #rp prompt #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp resources #rp ask meme #roleplay meme #ask prompt #rpc #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #*#q.#ask memes.

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toribookworm22 · 11 months ago

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Final Thoughts On 2023

I know I have a very dysfunctional sense of time, but this year seems extra short and long to me. But such is the way it goes. Vague recap time!

Shut Down published! I went to my first therapy session. I toured apartments with my roommate. I traveled for the first time with just a friend. I got to meet the voice actors for The Animaniacs Pinky and The Brain. I celebrated my first Aro week. I wrote my first pilot episode. I got on TikTok for class and ended up not hating it. I volunteered to help at an student Oscar event and for student plays. I lost my best friend. I finally joined my school's writing club. My parents accidentally read my poetry collection and loved it. I moved into my very own apartment. I went on a family vacation to New York and got to see my almost little sister for the first time in 4 years. I hosted my very first book signing! I published Reprogrammed. I learned how to live by myself. I took a pottery class. I started a movie script. I let go of my best friend for good. I became the secretary for the writing club. I found a little bit more of myself in my fashion sense. I hosted a Halloween party. I met the producer of Me Before You. I made more friends and learned how best to love some of my others.

And in what has been one of the greatest decisions I've ever made, I stayed incredibly active on this lovely site and I got to meet, know, and love all of you. You guys are my diary and my joke book and a safe place for everything I am and love. I can be 100% myself on here without a single worry and you guys will never understand what that means to me.

My love list will just have to continue to grow, but that's okay. I love each and every one of you and I cannot wait to spend another year alongside you. Happy New Year! 🥂

All my love,

~ toribookworm ♥️

Love List pt. I

@angryaromantics @minutiaewriter @pluromantic @christiew @candlelightkissess @lady-of-himring @asteroidtroglodyte @panic-in-the-attic @elizaellwrites @writing-and-trying @eli-writes-sometimes @thatndginger @hyuccubus @chargeaznable @master-of-the-pigeon-religion @lividdreamz @ashen-crest @saphoblin @akiwitch @wearfinethingsalltoowell @daisywords @the-orangeauthor @arigalefantasynovels @brianamorganbooks @bluejay-in-write @elijahrichardwrites @alittlewarlord @apocalypsewriters @bookmarks-reviews @pure-solomon @xtakeitisisx @alnaperera @all-my-dreams-and-ambitions @porchswingstories @jlilycorbie @rsdan @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @litbylightning @lyssentome @theunboundwriter @writingforevren @regalserpent @axl-ul @likegemstone

#final thoughts on 2023 #my love list pt. 1 #hello 2024 #happy new year!#♥️♥️♥️#bookworming

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resident-quilt · 5 months ago

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Shrue’s descent into radicalism and what the Silt Verses says about our world today

(also, regarding the giant poem that the episode titles make) ITS A TUMBLR ESSAY BABYYYYYYYYY

Kill your gods. Starve them out, topple their statues, forsake their comfort— Kill the stories that gave birth to them. Tear away your flesh that bears their marks. Adjudicator Shrue, Ep. 43

The Silt Verses is a story born of its time, to a 21st century world which is slowly decaying—and everyone in it is doing their part to help it decay just a little bit faster. It speaks of capitalism, of corruption, of power and belief and environmental destruction and the rift between generations. When Charles tells Val he can’t really stand behind the idea of a family (“You wonder about what kind of world we’re bringing children into, y’know?”) I had to pause and gather myself; it’s something we hear from so many Gen Z’ers today.

But then Shrue’s speech came, and it made no sense.

Shrue calls for an end in any form it can be given. They call for the loss of all faith and love and community in the world; they call for us to kill the stories of our history, to kill the figures we believe in and the ones that give us hope. Anything, everything, all we can give to stop the decay and degradation of the world. They demand us to defeat the corrupt system we have built by trading our lives to do so.

If our words and stories sustain them, let us fall silent. If our communities rely on them, let us drift apart and die, lonely, in the polluted wilds amongst the howling winds of long forgotten deities.

It made no sense because TSV, most simplistically, embodies “no ethical consumption under capitalism”—and this solidly did not fit. So I cast about for an answer to what it all meant, because TSV had grown to be more than the “folks, look where capitalism got us” which I thought it to be. And Shrue's “we can’t do anything to escape the system but die” was just too flat a conclusion.

Then I fell upon the poem compiled from each episode’s title.

It begins with the start of humanity: a story of things that have happened, things people have believed, things which have roamed the land from then til now.

Let me speak first of revelations, and next of dark deceit. Then I’ll speak of champions, of lovers, gods and beasts.

And so the poem continues in a description of this story, until it eventually twists to become entirely self-destructive around Chapters 18-24. It's a reference to how everything in the TSV universe seems to eat itself: their system of gods, sacrifices, even the characters themselves.

If I could trace with bloodless fingers, if my hands could shape the flow, I’d bear this song to the precipice and rend us both to dust below. We’d both go plunging downwards, one final fall from grace— I’d howl, I’d scream, in victory, and we’d be gone without a trace.

At Chapter 25, we get a respite from the story. We get a short poetic break which concludes that yes, we’re doomed to die—but we continue as we are despite it, and write our story even if it’ll be lost in the end. It’s a classic conclusion that a lot of literature and poetry fall to, because it’s so very human. It’s a cliche, and it’s a cliche for a reason.

But we’ll never be rid of each other, my song, my sorrow, and I, So I’ll bear it trembling onwards: to drift on, to dream, to die.

With that, the poem progresses forward until it starts addressing our end and what happens when we face that. It screams of last-ditch efforts keep on believing, even as we plunge down and down and the world just gets worse and worse. Shrue’s speech takes place in “One Last Song of Revelations” (the title is so fitting!), where they vocalize their realization that their pacifist attitude isn’t doing shit to change anything.

But when they switch towards radicalism because it’s, evidently, the only way anything will ever get done—the only way anything will get the exposure to maybe make an impact—they speak of the destruction of society as a whole. Not the eradication of capitalism, nor the installation of kinder gods, nor the lowering of sacrifice ceilings. They speak of true destruction. Utter destruction.

Shrue’s speech isn’t some call to action, nor does it embody any concrete ideology which the writers are trying to convey. It’s just an expression of desperation. Nothing is working; no one is listening.

What this poem sounds like is a story of how our world goes. It's its birth, its self-destruction, its philosophical revelations, its finale.

When we began following Carpenter and Faulkner in the reeds of the White Gull River, we were consuming a commentary on capitalism. Now, it’s more. It’s a commentary, yes, but it’s not only that—it’s an exploration. The Silt Verses is a tragic exploration of our world as it connects to theirs, of how we’ve been driven so far and been corrupted so deeply that only radicalism makes a difference because only radicalism is what gets the notice and attention to spark moderate change. And that same radicalism is going to destroy the society we have left.

But it’s all the same in the end, because society's collapse was going to happen anyways. So at least someone had it in them to fight for something.

GAHHHH I LOVE THIS SHOW

#the silt verses #adjudicator shrue

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touyas-multi-purpose-saline · 28 days ago

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DAY XXVIII. — DACRYPHILIA

cw: Dacryphilia, Post-MHA, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Past Abuse / Manipulation / Violence, Gross Descriptions of Bodily Fluids, Vomit, Begging, Yandere Undertones, Mind-Broken Behavior, Dub-Con, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: Oh, yes. I definitely enjoy Post-MHA Overhaul. It really reveals his true character, in my opinion. It goes to show everything was a persona and that he's never had a chance to be a true him. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 1.2k words.

Part of you starts to wonder what you ever did to deserve a fate like this.

There’s an inkling of a memory, but it’s so faint, and you try to wink it out of your mind. You were in the wrong place, wrong time, meddled in business that wasn’t yours to begin with because you assumed there was some injustice happening, and then your life was forever altered. You were sent spiraling down a path away from humanity so far that you couldn’t even turn back around, the tide too strong, impossible to beat the oars to shift around, and you’ll keep sinking into heavy white caps. The horrors that you had seen, the times you were strapped down and helpless, the explosions of men who took the wrong step, crumbling dirt, the crying from a little girl that you couldn’t do anything but walk away from, a lock that clicked, the final chord to your freedom as your bedroom door closed.

Maybe you should have fought back harder. Maybe you should have just lunged forward, teeth and claws bared, and ripped into whatever you could snag. Maybe you should have struggled until death cinched down your throat. Maybe you should have found a way to get yourself killed.

That’s what you did to deserve a fate like this—you stood around uselessly, frozen and powerless, and what did it give you?

A man laying atop of your body, head awkwardly buried within the crook of your neck, floundering over your nude body, pressing against your chest and belly in uncomfortable ways. His weight was odd, like he didn’t know how to move right anymore, like he was trying to find a way to roll himself into you that would make him disappear. Deep, deeper, and his breath hiccups in odd quarter notes between each thrust, each gasp he swallows. He’s never felt sloppier. You tilt your head to the side, wincing with each sharp thrust.

“A-Angel. Angel. A-A-Ahhh… nnaa, —gel.”

Over and over, like a mantra, like he never learned how to say any other words than that. That’s all he ever does anymore. Only says a few phrases, like he’s lost everything in him. I’m sorry. I failed. Forgive me. Angel. Over and over and over, and you’re starting to forget any poetry your tired and bleak mind ever lapped at. Can you wither with someone? Can you intertwine your bodies like overgrown weeds, mottled sap and moss across dusty windows, vines that twist with thorns, compressing to the lee of the stone? Is that what you desire most? Is that what you want? Would it be easier if you let your mind run silly and lose all comprehension just to be able to handle each thrust? Each moan? Each kiss? Each angel? How much longer can you hold off that inevitable?

“Angel. Sorry. I can’t hold myself up.”

You shake your head dismissively.

“It’s okay, Kai. Let me help you.”

Both of your hands leave his back, loosening, and Kai sucks in a shallow breath, accidentally leaning forward a bit too much to maintain your touch, but you just groan and squint your eyes. You can feel the liquid from his face, the wine and vinegar, it’s all over your neck and collar bone. He’s so gross. It’s going to be so gross to look at him again. He’s so solid, teeming with pathetic acceptance, all his will lost, and it strains your wrists whenever you try to hook your hands underneath his armpits and lift him. Your thumbs swivel to push, your hips meet his in rhythm for a few swings, and your knees pinch together to hoist your bodies up and together. Your back slams noisily against the pillow and headboard, but the pain doesn’t even register. All you can focus on is Kai’s face.

So gaunt, so shadowy, so hollow. Those once beautiful eyes wide and spacey, golden ambers dulled into earthy pebbles. His long lashes flutter, decorated by large pearls, by tears that stream down the apples of his face. Torrential rains that flood into his snot and drool, thick and soupy, and you try to stifle the look of disgust that crosses your face whenever it congeals and starts to splatter across your body. He’s so gross. Maybe he was always this gross.

You can’t believe you ever fell in love with him.

“A-Angel—”

Oh, how romantic Kai sounds now. So needy, finding ways to groove himself into your embrace, your body, and his sex grows faster. All of your teeth are chowing down on your inner mouth, the walls tender and fruity, and you can feel a few splinters pop in the aftermath, iron sour. The head of Kai’s cock pierces in ways that you’d never think possible, stumbling over the ridges of your cunt, and you can’t help when you’re screaming behind a glued mouth. He’s crying, Kai is crying. He always cries when you have sex. You hate it. He tries to be tender, he tries to lay into you gently, he tries to find ways to make this seem like a slice of heaven—but you just think he’s a messy little boy who’ll throw up on your breasts after he cums and then lay his head atop his own filth while he begs you to tell him that you love him until he passes out.

And with each passing thrust, you start to dwell on it. The longer you think, the further the dome of your head digs into the wall, the happier the thought makes you. Kai crying. No matter how pursy or slovenly Kai becomes with each gyration of his hips, with every deep moan that revs in the back of his throat, with the way he shoves himself forward to meet your static lips in a sloppy kiss. His sticky snot, opaque and stringy, dances across the brow of your lips, dangles down your faces, meets in the middle, and he’s working his jaw in rhythm with his thrusts. All of it is combining in your mind, and it makes you feel so giddy, and you realize you’ve finally lost it. You don’t love Kai anymore, but hearing him cry, apologize, make a mess of himself upon you, begging, fucking you, births glittery butterflies dancing within the cavity of your belly and you start giggling against Kai’s mouth.

Your eyes are open, so are Kai’s, and you can see the expression on his face shift into something akin to confusion, but you really don’t care anymore. Another giggle before you’re returning Kai’s kiss fervently, and your hands are finding any place on his body to squeeze and grab, you’re massaging him, feeling his muscles and his ribs, and your feet chop out before they clasp together. You draw Kai in further, his disconsolate fluids drenching the both of you, and you’re moaning.

You don’t like to think about the fate you've ended up with.

But if Kai never stops crying, then it'll be one you deserve.

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ghouljams · 29 days ago

Note

i had a bleak breakup tbh. i just feel useless now

If this is the dead sex drive anon then yeah that'll do it.

If not: I absolutely feel you. When my first girlfriend broke up with me it was really fucking rough. I have some truly somber poetry from those first few weeks after the breakup. A lot of "I will never love again because love is fleeting and I cannot fix myself to impermanence." But then weeks became months and I started thinking more about the relationship and her and I started realizing that even though I still loved her I didn't want to be in that relationship any more.

There was so much I wished was different that I started wondering if I had even loved her at all, or if I loved the idea of her. We were rp partners and I think both of us fell in love with the "Could be" especially when so much of her affection was based on performance and her making aus about our relationship(should've been a red flag but I was young and stupid).

She broke up with me over text while I was on a school trip. It was a whole thing, that wasn't even the worst part of my night.

Anyway, all of that to say: time heals you. The grief gets easier to manage, and the rose colored glasses that breaking up so often puts on us fall off. This is not your greatest love, maybe you'll carry them in your heart for a long time but some day you'll look at the relationship and realize you turned it over in your hands so many times that it's turned to sand, and it'll be easy to let go of then.

You are more than a partnership. Aristotle was a punk ass bitch who didn't know shit about nothing. It may feel like you've lost part of yourself to the relationship but it's just hiding. Go out and look at the changing leaves. Get a hot chocolate. Find a spot of sunlight to read in. Eventually your other half will be coaxed out of the shadows like a feral cat, and you'll hold them in your arms until you feel whole again. It might take a little biting and clawing but loving yourself always hurts a little bit at first.

#ghoul speaks

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aftgficrec · 1 year ago

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ah I'm so excited you're open!!! thank you for the ridiculous amount of work you all do 🙏ok, this might be too specific but any fics with an alternate take on Andrew and Neil's post-trk reunion? Andrew gets out of easthaven early, Neil leaves the Nest later, AU's, etc.? i think it's a really interesting point in their dynamic, and I'm a sucker for sober Andrew realizing someone was watching his back for once

Feeling a bit like a Bernie Sanders’ meme – ‘I am once again asking myself why I spent so much time on an ask,’ 😅 but it's because this is such an iconic and beloved scene for our fandom. For a super fun ‘live’ first-time reader reaction to this high drama, check out ‘The King’s Men, Chapter 1 – Hello Foxhole, My Old Friend’ by @nickireadstfc here. -A

also see

Andrew's POV of throwing keys off roof here

‘Come and Save Me From It’ here (completed)

‘Learning To Feel (When You've Forgotten How)’ and the fandom meta posts here

‘pipedream’ here

‘reaching for the heights’ here

‘Lost boy’ and ‘[Un]broken’ here

‘I Know You From A Nightmare,’ ‘The Marks We Make,’ and ‘Draw Me Out, Mark Me In’ here

‘Marked’ and ‘Soulmates who can feel each other’s pain’ here

‘Of Stars and Stories’ here

‘What’s normal now?’ here

long previous recs with reunion mention

‘No More Fucks To Give’ here (updated)

‘The Sphynx and the Hare’ here (completed)

‘corvus, vulpes, lupus’ here

‘never fallen (from quite this high)’ here

‘Not a Pipe Dream’ here

‘everything and nothing begins with you’ here

Andrew gets sober, Neil stays at Evermore

‘Oh Raven,’ ‘Jailbird,’ and ‘Take to the Wing’ here

‘Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die)’ here

‘Comeback’ here

you may also like

in the dream I don't tell anyone (you put your head in my lap) by Fortheloveofexy [Rated T, 1850 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

The real Neil would never allow this, would not let himself be this vulnerable. The real Neil can barely stand to be around him. Andrew knows this. But Dream Neil? Dream Neil is a different story.

Will you be there when I come back? by Shamman [Not Rated, 299 Words, Complete, 2017]

Andrew is trapped in Easthaven with an eidetic memory and tries to focus his thoughts on the confusing image of Neil Josten's face. -Because however terrible it may look, Andrew's current circumstances are much less pleasant. Furthermore Bee has been making him sing and play the guitar in a very therapeutic attempt to make him express some sort of actual emotion over the past year.

tw: violent imagery

You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home by glintchi [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2019]

Chapter 19: Yes, I Admit It, You Were Right [460 Words] Renee was waiting for him in the basement, fingers already taped, hair pulled back into a tuft of a rainbow ponytail.

Foxhole Tidbits by SpangleBangle [Collection Rated T/M, Updated 2018]

Chapter 14: My Friend, O My Friend [M, 953 Words] Prompt for Renee's reaction after Drake/Easthaven and Andrew's return.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: canonical character death

Did You Miss Me? by Deathandcommas [Rated G, 555 Words, Complete, 2023, Locked]

Aaron and Andrew have a late night chat after Andrew gets back from Easthaven.

tfw spoons by StrawBerryRains [Rated G, 216 Words, Complete, 2021]

Nicky offers Andrew ice cream when they arrive home from Easthaven.

A Taste of Your Own Medicine by caffeine_withdrawl [Rated M, 66454 Words, Incomplete, Updated March 2023]

Set after the infamous Thanksgiving, but then diverges from canon. Andrew and Bee decide it’s time for Andrew to come off the drugs, but works some magic so that he is allowed to do it in Columbia. Neil is tasked with helping him through it. They decide to do it the same way Andrew helped Aaron sober up, by locking him in a bathroom. Andrew doesn't react well, and switches between rage and panic. Andrew wonders if Neil is real or if he made him up because of the drugs.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: body horror, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: flashbacks, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: drug addiction, tw: withdrawal, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: ptsd, tw: emotional abuse, tw: hallucinations

making it harder to breathe by Azure_Allumiia [Rated T, 1643 Words, Complete, 2021]

Christmas Break with the Foxes, featuring Andrew at Easthaven and Neil in Evermore. Foxes celebrate New Years in NYC with the ball drop.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: medical abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood

Dead Birds by Noah98 [Rated G, 1601 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

Neil just got back from Evermore and Andrew has returned from Easthaven. Riko calls. He wants a rematch and oh boy does he get it.

tw: violence, tw: blood/gore

Art

NB: just a sampling of art for this scene

“Feel Again” original song by @whatbutandreil [Tumblr, 2020]

Picking up Andrew from Easthaven part 1, part 2 comic by @coldcigarettes

andreil keys off the roof scene: animation by @hahanken | comic by @rainbowd00dles | comic by @lunapiq | art by @esklinray

I hate you comic by @thematicallycoherent

I’m not a hallucination art by @clumsyartish

Stick around long enough to figure it out for yourself. edit by @m1nyards

You are a pipe dream art by @viennemort

“you spend all this time watching our backs” edit by @matthcwboyd

not a hallucination a pipe dream art by @kryptidfox

“you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.” art by @planetmontressor

"Go inside and leave me alone." art by @dimsunstuff

“No, you’re a pipe dream.” art by @starkingdraws

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genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles · 1 year ago

Note

ok my dumbass didn't understand and now looking back at your response made me feel so dumb rn i hate myself :(

PLSSS disregard my request earlier, i would love a part two of the post you made with the comfort after fluff

I'M SO SORRY- I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANT EARLIER-

-Anon of the safeword scenario <3

NO WORRIES I GOT YOU! Also sorry for this taking so long, but here it is. I am sorry if it doesn’t connect well with part 2, as it has been a while, however, I will try my best. Thank you for being so patient with me. Sorry if my writing sucked on this. Safe word Part 2 Part 1: Here Requested Tags: @nnasv

Scaramouche:╔════════════════════════════════╗

After the rough angry sex, and his slow apology, Scaramouche was gently taking care of you, as he was kissing every hickey on your body that. He was silent as it was hard to read his mind. Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he felt remorse and regret, maybe he was focused on your, or maybe he was angry with himself.

You looked at him, as he was rubbing pain killer cream on your bites and hickeys. You were sitting on his lap, so he had access to your body, as he took care of you. He sighed and looked at you. He wanted to say something as he felt maybe he had no right to. He felt like he might've hurt you, or lost your trust. However, you gently cupped his face and smiled. You wanted to tell him that you understood why he did what he did.

He looked at you and sighed. "Why? Don’t humans...don’t human hate you after this?" You shook your head and began to kiss his cheek. he widen his eyes in surprised. "Its okay...just talk to me next time." You patiently smiled at him. After all, he has a lot to learn but he was willing to learn for you.

His gaze soften and gently pulled you into an embrace. He then started to rub cream on the hickies on your back, and began to check the bruises he accidentally gave you. He made sure you were resting in bed, as he was cooking your meals and making sure you recovered properly. Despite him not sure how to take care of a human being, he made sure to listen to your needs and wants.

Kazuha ┌── •✧• ─── •✧• ─── •✧• ───── •✧• ──┐

Later on, you were avoiding Kazuha a bit due to the recent events, as you felt maybe your safe space was suddenly broken a bit. And of course, Kazuha noticed this. He does sigh at his own actions in shame, however, he didn’t know how to approach despite him seemingly he always know what he is doing. His emotions got the best of him as he had been feeling guilty. You were his one and only loving significant other, how could he treat you like a ragdoll as such.

Eventually, you two ended up being in a room alone. As you were stacking books in the bookshelf, and cleaning up. Kazuha entered as he needed a book to help him with his poetry, a reference book if you may. Kazuha stopped as he saw you, for a moment he thought about leaving as he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable however, he decided to maybe talk to you.

He walked up behind you, and gently placed a hand on the bookshelf. "Darling.." He whispered to you. You turned and looked at him, as you felt your heart pound. You never expected to talk to him or see him this soon near you. You looked at him and tried not to show your surprise.

"Can I...Can I hold you?" He held his hands up, as a way to show he won’t be rough with you in anyway. You thought for a moment and nodded. He gently wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close against him. "Darling, I am sorry for what did to you...I was frustrated and I shouldn’t have let it get to me so bad. I was immature...please...forgive me." You gently hugged him back and stayed silent. "How about tonight I can spoil you with kisses and cuddles and if you feel up to it, we can try a gentler time with our bodies?"

Xiao ╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

Later on, Xiao was massaging your thighs, hips and back. Nothing but guilt was coming out his mouth, as he felt regret for ever being rough with you. He brought you your meals, bathed you, lotioned you. He kissed on your bruises and wounds. He massaged your lower back as you complained that hurt you the most. He would feed you painkillers and rub medicine on the bruises and handprint bruises he caused on your body.

He would then cuddle you right after, rubbing your stomach, or back, to make sure you are comfortable enough to sleep. Xiao would look at you with a defeated gaze, as he was silent. You reached out and placed your hands on his chest. "What's wrong? Does your back hurt you again?" He asked, making sure you are okay before anything else.

You shook her head. "I..I forgive you, I get why you did what you did.." Xiao sighed. "I am still sorry...I was a child...that is not what you should expect from an adeptus of 2000 years old..." He looked at you. "Please, you need to make sure to stop me next time, or get away from me. I feel scared I might hurt you again...even worse...use my full strength..."

You smiled. "I trust you...you would never hurt me.." With those words, Xiao tried not to shed tears, as he was overthinking. The idea that he would accidentally kill you during these intimate moments, the idea of hurting you, the idea that he caused you misery and suffering. He couldn’t handle it. You continued to reassure him, as you felt how gentle his hands were on your tattered body.

Albedo: ❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉ ❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉ ❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

Albedo was making medicine for your sore throat from recent events, as you were laying down. Your throat was red and sore. You were coughing. You felt Albedo feed you a serum to help with your throat. He fed you soft foods so you had an easier time swallowing. Albedo sighed as he knew he was responsible for this, no amount of consoling was enough to make him feel better. He wanted to take accountability so this is what he decided to do.

He was checking your throat, and making sure it was recovering. He was feeding you stew, soup, a lot of water based meals. He was giving you cough drops. Sometimes when things get to him bad, he was kiss your throat, and apologize to you in the most gentlest voice. "Dear...that was very barbaric of me...I never meant to ruin your throat as such with such tainting actions..."

He is aware you forgive him, however he couldn't forgive himself until he takes full responsibility for that throat of yours. He stopped everything, all his experiments, playtime with Klee, his main priority is you.

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baby-yongbok · 1 year ago

Text

Poetry

Chapter Three - Plan B

Hyunjin × Fem!Reader

Chapter Three - Plan B

Genre: Fluff, the cute slow burn type

Summary: Hyunjin had some amazing things lined up for your first date but the universe had other plans for you two.

Word Count: 5,953

A/N: I wrote this and queued it then I changed 50% of it last minute 🙃. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Honestly I don't know how mini this series is gonna be lol I have a lot of plans. See you next Thursday at 6 💕

Part Two

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧

✧Main Masterlist✧

Hyunjin’s Pov - 6:28pm

I’m sure that this photographer is fed up with me, I would be too if my model kept looking at the clock and not the camera. In my defense, this shoot was supposed to be over thirty minutes ago. I took the earliest schedule to make sure that I would have enough time to get ready for me and y/n’s date today. I planned to get there early like I usually do so that I can see the moment that she walks into the restaurant. I don’t think that she’s noticed the way that I look at her yet, the way that I watch her. Actually, now that I think about it that sounds a bit creepy but I don’t mean it that way. It’s like photography for me, I just love seeing her from a different lens, strangers point of view. I love admiring her beauty and pretending that she has no idea that I exist. That might sound silly since she does in fact know that I exist and seems to enjoy my existence enough to go on a date with me but I can’t seem to help it.

All of the times that I showed up early to our Thursday bookstore date at Adore was solely because I wanted to see the moment that she walked through the door. I wanted to see her before she painted a smile on and fixed her hair in a way that she thought that I’d find appealing, I wanted to see her for her. So, I make sure to arrive at least thirty minutes early just so I can enjoy the minute or two right before she sees me, just so I can capture that moment. Unfortunately, I don’t think that I'm going to be able to do that today.

“I think we got it.” The photographer's tone is drenched in annoyance but I’m in too much of a hurry to care. I thank him quickly, not even bothering to take a look at the photo proofs, right now I have one mission and that’s to change and get to the restaurant. I rush to the front of the room where my stuff and my stylist are, luckily my stylist for this shoot is my roommate and one of my best friends. Han was one of the first friends that I ever made in this industry. We met at my first Versace shoot where he was a junior style consultant but now he’s calling the shots.

I rummage through my bag, looking for my phone to check for any messages from y/n but what I see instead makes my heart drop. Apparently the clock that I’ve been watching this entire time is an hour fast and there’s only twenty minutes until our reservation, well, there was twenty minutes until our reservation. The second thing that catches my eye is a cancellation text from the restaurant, it says that they’re canceling due to the weather but last time I checked there was only a bit of rain.

“Fuck.” I whisper to myself, running my fingers through my styled hair. I clearly didn’t whisper well enough because when I looked up I noticed a very confused Han staring at me.

“Did your date cancel?”

“Not my date but my reservation, apparently there’s a weather advisory.” I sigh, placing my phone down on the table and then picking it up again. I should call her, I have to let her know what happened but what do I tell her? I need a plan B.

“Weather advisory?” Han looks up the stairs towards the door that leads outside, still wearing an expression of confusion. “Ah, we’re in the basement. There’s no windows.”

How did I not notice that sooner? I look back down at my phone, opening y/n’s contact and staring at it. I don’t have a plan, I don’t know what to do next. How many other restaurants are closed because of the weather? I bet it’s not even that bad outside.

“Uh, Hyunjin.” I got so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Han go up the stairs to the door and open it. The roaring of heavy winds echoed throughout the large room and from where I was standing outside looked like one huge blur. I made my way over to him quickly, standing and staring in disbelief when I got close enough to take in the god awful storm. “You might want to call your date.”

Han looks over at me but I keep my eyes fixed on the pouring rain. There’s no way that anyone is open right now, hell, I’m surprised that this basement isn’t flooded right now.

“What do I tell her?”

“Maybe you guys should reschedule.” That’s honestly the last thing that I want to do right now but I can’t think of a better plan. Maybe she has one? I’d have to call her to find out but I can’t bring myself to dial her number, maybe it’s because we’ve never spoken on the phone before?

“Maybe I’ll text her.” I unlock my phone and start typing but the feeling of Han’s gaze on me stops me before I can send the message. I side eye him for a second before turning my head completely, he has his arms crossed and eyebrows raised and I mimic him prompting him to speak. “What?”

“Are you afraid to call her?” I scoff at him, shaking my head and looking back down at my phone. “No fucking way, Hwang Hyunjin is nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, I just don’t want to bother her.” He chuckles and I roll my eyes, I might be nervous to call her but the last thing that I need is for him to get a hold of that information. I’d never hear the end of it.

“You don’t want to bother the girl who’s going on a date with you and is probably already waiting for your call?” I clear my throat as I smooth out the suit jacket that I wore for the shoot. He has a point but I’ll never let him know that.

“That’s not it I just -” I look down at my phone as it starts to vibrate in my hand and my heart stops. “Oh?”

“What?” Han asks, leaning over a bit to get a look at my phone screen.

“She’s calling me.” I stare wide eyed at the screen, I can’t help it, this is the very first time she’s called me. This would be the first time that we talk with our actual voices outside of the cafe. “What do I do?”

“Uh, answer it?”

“Right...right.” I took a deep breath before swiping the button and putting the phone to my ear but what I heard on the other line made my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Is she talking to me?

Y/n’s Pov - 6:16 pm

“Are you sure that you’re going on a date today?” My roommate Changbin asks as he stares out of our living room window.

“Uh, yeah, he hasn’t said anything otherwise.” I call back from my bedroom as I look in the mirror to put my earrings on. “Why?”

“Have you not looked outside? It’s insane. I literally just watched our neighbors trash can get blown over the 7/11 across the street.” I sigh as I make my way into the living room.

“He would’ve called me if the plans changed right?” I look over with Changbin, hoping that maybe he can help calm my mind. I’ve been confiding in him when it comes to seeing Hyunjin, asking him what I should wear and how my hair looks before I go out to meet Hyunjin. I even asked him for advice regarding this date so he knows just how anxious I am. Changbin and I are bonded like blood, he’s my best friend and he knows just what to say to calm me down, well, he usually does.

“He should yeah, but maybe you should call him.” I freeze as I take in his suggestion, Hyunjin and I have never spoken on the phone. We’ve been texting nonstop, day and night, but we’ve never called each other. My silence seemed to have grabbed Changbin’s attention, he looks back at me with curious eyes until suddenly it clicked for him.

“No way.” He turns, walking over to me and standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest. I avoid eye contact because I already know that he’s going to make fun of me. “You two haven’t spoken on the phone yet?”

His words are loud and covered in disbelief, I glance over at his amused expression before looking down at my feet. I shrug, trying to play it off before answering in a bit of a whisper.

“It’s complicated.”

“All you have to do is press his contact and put the phone to your ear, how complicated is that?” He bites back sarcastically and I roll my eyes. I know that he’s right, it’s really not that hard but I can’t help that I’m anxious. Talking to Hyunjin is easy and relaxing but at the same time it makes me feel like I’m about to jump out of a plane for the first time. I turn on my heels, stalking back over to my room and picking my phone up from my Vanity. Changbin follows close behind me and watches as I unlock my phone and open my contacts, I scroll down to Hyunjin's name and press it. The call button is right there, all I have to do is press it, it’s simple.

“This is the part where you call him.” Changbin whispers over my shoulder and I groan, throwing a mini tantrum.

“Maybe I’ll just text him.”

“For fucksake, there’s no way that you’re that nervous to talk on the phone.” I turn to him and I’m more than sure that he can see the distress written on my features.

“I’ve never called him before, Bin.” I whine as I stare down at Hyunjin's contact.

“Well, there’s no time like the present.” Before I can process what’s going on Changbin snatches my phone from my hand and presses the call button before handing it back to me. My eyes go wide once I hear the first ring, my finger hovers the end button but I don’t press it. It would be embarrassing to hang up and have to explain what happened. I groan again before putting the phone up to my ear. My eyes land on Changbin’s smiling face and I instantly flip him off.

“I fucking hate you.” Before Changbin can reply I hear a confused voice on the other line and my heart drops. Shit, he thought I was talking to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asks, confusion laced in his tone.

“Oh, no I’m sorry I was uh, talking to my roommate… anyway, uh hi.” I turn away from Changbin and move to sit at my vanity.

“Hey, I uh, I assume that you’re calling me about this god awful storm.”

“Yeah, it picked up pretty fast.” Hyunjin sighs on the other line and I take a deep breath to try and steady myself. He did a lot of setting up for today’s date and now it’s all ruined by the weather, I can’t imagine how he feels right now. “ Are we still, ya know.”

“Um, well, the restaurant actually canceled the reservation and I’m sure that just about every other place is doing the same.”

“Wow, okay, so uh..I guess we can do this another day.” I tried my best not to let my disappointment bleed into my tone but I’m positive that I failed when I hear yet another sigh come from Hyunjin.

“Yeah I guess so.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me but I can’t bring myself to say anything in response. I’ve been waiting for this day since the last time I saw him and it all got ruined by some fucking rain, that’s just great. I open my mouth to reply but stop when I hear some whispering on the other line, it’s not Hyunjin's voice but it sounds like it’s coming from right next to him. I try to make out what they’re saying but the sound of Hyunjin whispering back interrupts the process. After a couple seconds of him whispering to whoever he’s with I clear my throat to grab his attention.

“Sorry about that, uh, I um… I think that I have an idea but it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do it.” There’s a nervous shake to his voice that comforts me a bit, at least I’m not the only one that’s anxious.

“Oh? What’s the idea?”

“Maybe I could… come over to your place? We could have a home date, order some food and watch a movie. I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, I don’t want to cross any boundaries.”

My gaze shifts over to where Changbin has been impatiently waiting in the hallway. He looks over at me with furrowed brows and now it’s our turn to whisper.

“What?” Changbin asks, leaning closer to me.

“He wants to come over.” I whisper as quietly as I can and Changbin’s eyebrows fly up in surprise.

“He gets ten points for being bold. Do it.”

“But the apartment is a mess.” I motion towards the living room and Changbin looks behind him, scanning the room carefully.

“We literally just cleaned yesterday.” Anxiety climbs up my spine as I realize that there’s no way to get out of this. It’s not that I don’t want to have this date, I want it more than anything, the problem is I have never in my entire life had a man over to my shared apartment but there’s no time like the present, right?

“Fine.” I whisper back at him, rolling my eyes in defeat.

“Everything alright?” Hyunjin asks from the other line and I sit up straighter in my seat at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, uh let’s do it. A home date sounds good.” He’s quiet for a second, most likely trying to calm down his hammering heart because I am definitely trying to do the same thing.

“Great so, uh do you want to keep the same time?”

“Yeah seven still works, I’ll uh, send you my address.” Changbin gives me a thumbs up, trying his best to encourage me through my anxiety.

“Okay well uh, see you soon.”

“Yeah, see you soon.” I slowly lower the phone from my ear before hanging up and practically throwing it onto my vanity. He’s going to be in my house, in my room, oh my gosh.

“See that wasn’t so bad.” My mind is racing, now I have to prepare for an entirely new date. I need to clean my room, I’m way too overdressed for a home date, I need to redo my makeup. Do I even have enough time? What movie do we watch? “Y/n?”

The sound of Changbin calling my name snapped me out of my thoughts, I don’t have time to sit here, I need to get moving. Oh my god, he’s going to be in my house.

“Out. I need to get ready… again.”

“I don’t think that there’s much for you to do.” I glare over at my roommate and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m going, I'm going.”

He backs out of my room, closing the door with him. How in the hell do I prepare for this date now?

Third Person Pov - 6:57pm

You spent forty minutes rushing around your room and moving things around. Your room wasn’t even messy but it wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting either. You organized and decorated your bookshelf, lighting some candles and turning on your fairy lights. You vacuumed and changed your sheets so that everything was fresh. After spending way too much time revamping your space you turned your attention to your appearance. You got dressed, again, trying your best to pick something comfortable but not too casual, this is a date after all. The more you think about it, the more comfortable you are with the change of plans. Instead of some expensive wine and some fancy restaurant you get to indulge in cheap wine and fast food on your bedroom floor. It’s more your speed, more intimate, romantic. The idea of it makes you blush, you and Hyunjin always settle into your own bubble when you’re together but tonight it really will be just the two of you. The thought of it is scary yet exciting.

You haven’t heard from Changbin since you sent him away earlier, you were thankful that he gave you your space to prepare instead of hovering but you knew that he’d be back to check on you before your date started. That’s why you’re not surprised when you hear the small knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in.” You call out just as you complete your look, pulling on your forest green sweater. Changbin opens your door and leans against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks you over and shakes his head in approval.

“You look comfortable, it’s very you.” You chuckle lightly, turning towards your mirror to study your look. Your curly hair is pulled up into a messy bun and your green sweater is paired with a pair of high waisted black leggings and a pair of fuzzy green socks to match your sweater.

“You think that it’s okay?” You ask, your eyes meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. He moves from his spot at your door frame and comes up behind you, he places his hands on your shoulders and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You look wonderful as always, and from what you’ve told me this guy is already head over heels in love with you.” You scoff, turning around to be face to face with your roommate.

“I never said that, that’s just what you think.” You move from in front of him and take a seat at your vanity. You decide that your look could use a subtle touch of lip gloss and maybe a necklace. Changbin goes back over to your door frame leaning against the wood as he watches you.

“I promise you that everything that this guy has done up until this point is just screaming ‘I’m in love’. I even bet that he’s going to kiss you tonight.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in Changbin’s words. Is Hyunjin going to try and kiss you tonight? What if he does? It’s been nearly a year since you’ve kissed a man, are you even still good at it? Were you ever good at it? “Hey, get out of your head.”

You’re brought back to reality by Changbin poking your shoulder lightly.

“You think he’s going to kiss me?” Just as Changbin opens his mouth to reply, a deep rumble of thunder rips through the apartment.

“First let's see if he’ll even show up.” You groan before picking up your phone and checking for any new messages from Hyunjin. Maybe you should cancel, having him travel in this storm is dangerous and the last thing that you’d want is for him to get hurt. Just as you're about to reply you’re interrupted by another sound but instead of thunder it’s the sound of knocking at your front door. Your heart rate quickens as you look at the time.

“Fuck, that’s him, oh my gosh.” You rush to stand from your vanity chair, looking in the mirror one more time. “I can do this.”

You start to walk out of your room but just as you pass Changbin he grabs your wrist lightly and flashes you a big smile. “You deserve this, ya know?”

“What do you mean?”

“You deserve to live the life that you read about and you deserve to have your fairytale ending. I know that you’re nervous but you got this, okay?” You smile back at him nodding your head in acknowledgement. Changbin has always been there for you through your ups and downs, especially when the two of you were in university together. You were the classic hopeless romantic looking for her prince charming in all the wrong places. Changbin was your shoulder to cry on whenever you ended up with a broken heart which happened more times than you’d like to admit. “And if you need me to kick him out just text me.”

He lets go of your wrist and you can’t help but to laugh at his previous statement.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” You hear a knock at the door again and you rush over to answer it. You take a deep breath before turning your lock followed by the knob and opening your front door with a smile. That smile quickly drops into a look of confusion once you take in the sight in front of you. Before you stands your date holding orange roses while in a soaking wet black suit that looks expensive enough to pay your rent for two months. His long black hair is slicked down and dripping and you’re almost positive that everything in the bag that he carries is ruined.

“Oh my gosh.” You gasp out, a faint chuckle passes Hyunjin’s lips as you stare at him in shock.

“May I uh, come in?” You nod quickly, moving to the side to let him in. Once he’s inside and you’ve closed the door behind him the two of you stand in a bit of an awkward silence.

“It’s raining just a tiny bit.” Hyunjin whispers towards you and the two of you can’t help but to break out into a fit of laughter.

“Hyunjin, you’re soaked.” You watch as he slips off his shoes and places them neatly by the entrance. He may not have realized it but he placed them right next to yours. The sight of his large shoes next to your smaller ones brings a small smile to your face.

“Yeah, well, my roommate ended up needing to use my car for an emergency. I tried to order an uber but they kept canceling on me. I even tried to catch the bus but the next one didn’t come at a decent time. I figured that if I wanted to be on time my best bet was to walk.”

“You could’ve been a bit late, I would have understood.” Hyunjin shakes his head, a slight grin on his face.

“I never want to be late getting to you.” You can’t help the blush that creeps across your cheeks as his words sink in. “Oh, um, these are for you.”

He takes a step towards you, handing the wet roses over to you and you accept them with a wide smile. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are, but I must admit that they have some very serious competition.” You tear your gaze away from the flowers and look up at Hyunjin with furrowed brows. He reaches forward and takes your hand in his. The small touch makes your body feel electric as always. “You look stunning tonight.”

He leaves a small kiss on the back of your hand and you swear that the butterflies in your stomach have multiplied.

“As do you.. Even though you’re soaked.” You laugh again as you take in his appearance. Keeping your hand in his you decide to lead him away from the main entrance and over to your bedroom. You can hear music coming from Changbin's room and you can’t help but to feel thankful for his attempt at giving you some privacy. You lead Hyunjin through your living room and past the kitchenette until you reach your room.

“You have a very nice apartment.” Hyunjin comments as he takes a quick look around.

“You don’t have to lie.” You chuckle as you lead him into your bedroom, closing the door behind the two of you.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” You smile at his response, That sure does sound familiar.

“Well then, thank you.” You turn to your closet and start to rummage through it. “I should have some clothes that you can change into here.”

“You have mens clothing in your closet?” You can hear the slight confusion in his voice and it makes you a bit nervous. Does he think that that’s odd?

“Well, my roommate gives me the clothes that he doesn’t wear anymore so I have some mens clothing, yeah.” You try your best to sound nonchalant but you’re sure that the shakiness in your voice gave way to how you really felt. Hyunjin flashes you a soft smile as he nods.

“Your roommate is a guy? Are the two of you close?” He asks while his eyes scan your room slowly, taking in all of the personal details.

“He’s like a brother to me.” You grab a set of clothing from the top shelf and turn back around to him. “We met in college and have been best friends ever since.”

“Well, I hope to meet him soon.” You hand Hyunjin the clothes and he smiles. “Beer Pizza?”

You look down at the white t-shirt with maroon lettering and you can’t help the embarrassed blush that covers your cheeks. You have a man wearing the most expensive suit you’ve ever seen in your bedroom and you gave him a silly graphic t-shirt to wear?

“I can find something different.” You mumble as you start to turn back towards your closet but Hyunjin's gentle grip on your wrist stops you. You turn around to his smiling face and your heart calms down a bit at the sight.

“It’s fine. I just thought that the design was kind of… fun, ya know? It’s not what I’d usually wear but I like it.” You nod and he lets go of your wrist. “ Where should I uh..”

“Oh, right um you can change in here. I’ll go put the roses in some water, you can use the towel on the back of the door.” You grab the roses off of your vanity and rush out of the room, once you hear the click of your door closing all the way you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. You can’t help but to feel a bit embarrassed by your reaction to the clothes you gave him but who could blame you? That man looks expensive, I mean you would too if you did what he did for work… Wait, what does he do for work?

You think to yourself as you fix your roses in the pretty blue vase that you got from some thrift shop years ago. How have you been seeing this man once a week for five weeks and you still have no clue what he does for work? He’s in your apartment and you don’t even know that small detail? You sigh at yourself as you place the flowers in the middle of your kitchen island and head back to your room.

“I should really ask him.” You whisper to yourself as you grip your bedroom door knob. You knock twice and Hyunjin calls out a soft ‘come in’ before you turn the knob. You start to walk in but stop dead in your tracks as you catch a glimpse of Hyunjin's back as he pulls the t-shirt over his frame. Your cheeks heat up instantly and you feel a blush creep over you for the millionth time tonight and the date only just started.

“May I use some hangers? I need to let this dry properly or else I’m in big trouble.” Hyunjin laughs nervously and you nod.

“Why would you be in trouble?” You ask in an attempt to get your brain to focus on something other than the very appealing back muscles of the man in your room.

“It’s not my suit. I begged my stylist to let me keep it on so that I could rush over to you.” He replies with a slight chuckle.

“Stylist?” You ask yourself in a whisper as you try to figure out what job he could have that would require such a thing. Hyunjin smiles as he steps closer to you, taking the hangers that you’ve fished from your closet.

“I never told you what I do for work, did I?” You shake your head and now it was his turn to blush. “I suppose that I always try to avoid that conversation when I first meet people. It gets hard to tell who wants to be your friend for the money and who is actually interested in you.”

“Money? What money?” You joke and Hyunjin chuckles.

“I know that I can trust you. For some reason, I’ve felt that since I met you…” Hyunjin’s sentence trails off into a whisper. He seems to be in deep thought for a second but he snaps out of it before you can ask what he means by that. “Anyway, I’m uh, I’m a model for some luxury brands. Hence all of the Versace that I wear and the YSL suit that I got soaked in.”

“Oh?” You can’t help but look Hyunjin over slowly, taking in his features and his frame. Of course he’s a model, He’s the personification of perfection in the fashion world's eyes.

“Is.. that alright?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You perk up at the sound of his uneasy tone and grin.

“Yeah, I just can’t believe I didn’t figure that out. You’re so beautiful, of course you’re a model.” You freeze as you realize the words that just left your mouth. You look down at your rug quickly as your face flushes.

“I’m beautiful?” Hyunjin asks, clearly amused by your confession. “ I believe that I’m in the same position as the roses I gifted you, I definitely have some very serious competition.”

He steps forward so that he’s right in front of you and gently places a finger under your chin so that your flustered gaze meets his soft one. He’s smirking down at you softly, taking in the beautiful rose red that’s sweeping across your features. You stare back at him but you can’t help but to glance down at his blushed lips. The smirk pulling at them makes your heart beat faster than the embarrassment that's melting away.

“Thank you for the compliment.” Hyunjin whispers and now it was his turn to look at your lips. Beautiful and shining with the coat of lip gloss you put on minutes before he arrived. You both have the same thought, the same desire.

“You’re welcome.” You whisper back, blinking up at him with doe eyes that he swears carries the galaxies. You lean into the gentle touch he has on your chin just a bit, drawing yourself closer to him. Hyunjin can feel his heart beating a mile a minute, he can hear his brain telling him what to do but he can also hear the doubt whispering to him and for some reason the whispers always win. With a small sigh Hyunjin retracts his hand and you instantly feel yourself missing his electric touch. He takes a step back and picks up one of the hangers you gave him from your full size mattress.

“Are you hungry? We should figure out what we’d like to eat.” He asks, avoiding eye contact with you. You do the same, as you try to slow down the fast beating of your heart.

“Yeah, I’ll see what’s open.” You reply quietly before stalking over to your vanity and grabbing your phone to browse through a delivery app. “What are you in the mood for?

“Just about anything, you pick what you want and I’ll follow.”

He puts his suit on the hangers and then moves to place the wet items on the back of your door. He watches you as you mindlessly scroll through the restaurants, rocking back and forth lightly. He can’t help but smile but unfortunately there’s only a small trace of happiness in this gesture. His thoughts are racing and he can’t help but to feel like he’s drowning in them. What is he doing here with someone as beautiful as you? Someone so smart and stunning and open to love. What could his damaged heart possibly provide you? Hyunjin can’t help but to bite his tongue as his doubts start to attack him, flashbacks to all the things that have tainted him, all of the things that he wants so desperately to tell you even though the two of you have only just met. He wants to hear you say that none of it matters, that even with his heart being ripped out of his chest before he met you you’ll still love him, that you’ll teach him how to do the only thing that he’s desired to do for years. There’s a hint of hope in his thoughts and it only grows bigger when you look up at him. Your curious eyes ground him immediately and he can’t help but to smile again, that hint of hope budding into a small flower in his heart. Maybe he can do this?

“See anything good?” He asks as he walks over to you, he stands behind you and places a hand on the small of your back gently. You relax into the touch and you both grin a bit.

“I’m buying so go crazy.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“We can go half.” Hyunjin clicks his tongue in disapproval as he sits on the edge of your bed.

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay on the first date?” You sigh, turning to face him.

“I just like for things to be fair.” He offers his hand to you and you take it without a second thought. He leads you forward a bit, opening his legs to allow you to get closer to him.

“If I am to be fair then I must treat you the way that my heart so desires. I must gift you all of the world's greatest wonders before I can call you one of my own.” A shy smile adorned Hyunjin's lips full lips before he licked them, pulling them into a thin line right after.

“Who was that by? It was beautiful.” He reaches his free hand up to scratch the back of his neck lightly, a mere chuckle leaving his lips.

“Uh, that was actually an original.” Your eyes widen slightly as a blush sneaks up on you. “That bad?”

Hyunjin chuckles again, this time avoiding your gaze

“No.. I just, I guess I’m surprised? I wasn’t aware that you wrote poetry and that was…that was beautiful, Hyunjin, really.” His eyes meet yours quickly and he can feel his nerves melt away.

“Thank you.” He whispers shyly before clearing his throat a bit. “I only just started writing again. I guess I found my muse.” You watch him as he grins a bit, he sits up straighter trying his best to compose himself. A shiver runs over you and you smile a bit, he can’t be talking about you right? There’s no way that you’re his muse…right? The two of you seem to snap out of your thoughts at the same time, smiling at each other with shy yet soft gazes. The air feels electric again, is this how the entire night is gonna feel?

“So, what are we thinking for dinner? I’m starving.”

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