#THE BEAST IS RISING NOT THE TIME TO BE YEARNING FOR SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO DESTROY UR REPUTATION!?!?

[sacrifical-lamb-core]

DUMAI NO !! WHY ARE YOU DOWN BAD FOR THE LITERAL COURT MANIPULATOR!?!? GIRL?!?

[soapoet]

how are you, october?

+3 Taylor Swift songs each because she's striving and so should you.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

Soapy scribbles: I already did a general energy reading for this autumn season here, but there's quite a bit of energies at play this autumn, so I felt the need to look at October specifically as it feels very important.

01.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift ‐ Don't blame me, I did something bad, Red.

How long have you kept the light on? Sitting there, staring at the door, waiting for someone who never seems to come? The radio is on, playing two stations at once. The flower petals all say maybe, not he loves me, he loves me not. You are frustrated and confused, yearning for clarity but outside the sun just won't rise and the only light is the one lit outside your house. Have you given your time at a discount, or is the free trial still running? Someone needs to draw the line in the sand further from the waves that keep washing them away. You want more, and for love to not feel like agony. Red is the colour of passion, both love and hate. I see you wearing their white t-shirt, your heart bleeding and staining it red as you watch them sleep. Safe and sound, whilst you howl to the moon. You're growing territorial. A desperate act to ward off the wolves that prowl your prey. You saw them first, but they don't seem to see you.

It seems as though your thoughts and feelings are silly until somebody else echos them, word for word, and then they're liquid gold. You're not a ghost, but you feel your outlines blur. Where do you end and where do they begin? You haunt their halls, but they're fast asleep and never notice a bump in the night. You've felt powerless, like the quietest poltergeist, unable to move and shake the silverware, never able to rattle the cupboards or the picture frames. Somebody treats you like they would give you their last name, yet make no such commitments, not a single step in that direction. It is all up in the air, and you feel like the rug beneath your feet will get pulled at any moment. Is it not tiring to lie awake, watching the shadows, wondering what beasts may strike if you let your guard down in slumber? Without certainty, you're the one in fear under the covers, certain it wasn't just the wind. Because in your experience, it never really is.

Do not sign the dotted line without examination of the fine print. Better yet, do not sell your heart and soul to someone who will keep you on a shelf, saved for a rainy day, but will not puncture breathing holes into the lid and care for you truly. Do not let yourself be kept for a season, wings clipped and left to asphyxiate in a jar. You have given enough benefits of the doubt, but nobody is so daft, so oblivious, they would not embrace love they find worthy and good. Do not let yourself be kept as an option or as something good enough until something better, new and shiny, comes along. Close up shop and demand full subscription for your time and effort. If they won't pay the price, you'll find better in no time whilst karma chews them out. Especially if you feel like you can't do better, or have felt like love keeps avoiding you and you're somehow faulty and too broken to be loved, there really is someone around the next few corners who won't play you like a game or stick around only in fair weather but your storms too. So don't settle, you deserve better than okay and fine and good enough. For a select few, there really is love here, but may be drowning in addiction or fears of some kind. Remember that you can't help someone who doesn't want help, because change is made when they want change. This change may very well be coming up in the near future, and wrongs may be made right slowly. If this is somebody you love, whether romantically or platonically, even in a familial sense, make sure you keep your head above water and put your own oxygen mask on first before helping another. You can extend a helping hand, but do so when they ask, not because you're expected to do it because you always have. New beginnings in old relationships are possible if you want it.

Additional details: Amethysts, Ayurveda, moths, mixed signals, love languages, uquizzes and other such tests, purple, blue, red, bus rides, tattoos, job offers, writing, poetry, thesis, message in a bottle, missing an ex, addiction, healing, birds and squirrels, starting over, second chances, reminiscing, old photos or journal entries or ig posts, synastry charts, girl in red, Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Kahan, Bishop Briggs, YA book series, maladaptive daydreaming, BPD, lighters, short trips, parties or other get togethers, double dates, life path 8, birthdays, sanrio, studying, Scorpio/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn/Pisces, 3H/4H/5H/12H, Saturn/Mars/Uranus, Lilith/Chiron, 25/89/222/555.

02.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - Gorgeous, Paper rings, I think he knows.

Luck seems to be on your side, or it soon will be. After a long drought, you have stumbled upon an oasis. Prayers whispered in the dark, sometimes choked out by tears, are now proven to have been heard after all. Endless night and harsh winter is over, even though seasonally speaking it's right ahead of us in the northern hemisphere. In your life, however, you're coming out of a very long and hard winter. You have felt cold and lost, sometimes frozen in place, as though your icicle bones and frosted skin wouldn't let your body decompose when you thought you were dead. You were stuck up to your thighs in snow. Every step was a challenge, and harsh winds threatened you like frail branches bending and snapping in storms. Now the snow is melting, trampled into slush beneath your boots and making way for spring flowers to bloom.

Forward movement is happening in many areas of your life. New beginnings are popping up like wildflowers in a meadow for you to frolic in. You're making changes and changes are making you. Immovable objects begin to roll down the hilltop where you've felt stranded like a lone celltower sending and receiving signals. You may have felt in your heart and soul that the winds are changing. Your intuition has been wide open and receptive for some time now, hasn't it? But rooted in place unable to move you have felt unable to take action. That is changing now as not only can you move forward, but things you have wished for begin to arrive like ships to your shores. You sowed and nurtured the seeds and it is time to harvest your crops. If you have dealt with mental terrors and grief, you should see those slowly begin to heal, circumstances improve, and help becoming available to you and you finally feel ready and able to take it.

If you've been engaging in some good old fashioned yearning, know that it's a case of mutual pining. Someone whose freckles, birth marks, or scars you have mapped out like an astronomer the night sky in stolen glances has stolen just as many of you. Either one of you, perhaps both, have been closing doors as of late, gone through endings and made space for the new and found the keys to the doors once shut and chained and locked. There is a distinct sense of leveling up here, like entering a new region in a game at last when the requirements have been met, and you're now free to explore new and unknown territory. I see unwavering eye contact where before it was a game of cat and mouse. I see a church, two people side by side in the pews sharing quiet confessions. Words previously only thought find a voice and get spoken, not to the moon but the heart they were meant for. There can be some secrecy involved, but less like the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet it's keeping something sacred between two souls, keeping each other like an oath. Sheltering a flame, for some of you one rekindled, between four hands and promising to meet in the woods at night. This secrecy is not one grown from shame, but one of dedication. A solid foundation, a home and sturdy fortress is being built or rebuilt in the dark of the night so its eventual beauty and intricacies may be admired by all in the sun. You may have manifested this, or simply known this was inevitable. All you really had to do was accept it as fate and wait for it to unfold. This is a cozy kind of love, but also devout like two souls looking upon each other in reverence. It feels as close as it feels free. There's something to lean on but also room to grow. You hold each other tightly, but loosen the grip as needed, and always ready to catch the other if they fall. For some of you this marks the end of a third party situation, an entirely new love, and for others this is reworking an existing or past love with a new set of rules and making magic together after tough challenges.

Additional details: Full moon, abundance, sudden income, lottery luck, gifts, receiving or giving flowers, dancing, swimming, guided meditations, listening to higher frequencies, therapy or counselling, lists and plans, entrepreneurship, editing, finishing tasks, cats, rabbits and ferrets or rodents, pancakes and waffles, sunflowers and dandelions, espresso, heavy rain, holding hands, nostalgic scents or environments, coughing, PTSD, neurodivergence, artificial intelligence, fidget toys or stress balls, colouring books, arts and crafts, dainty jewellery, body language, law of assumption, dreams, blue, green, black, glasses, kpop, punk, indie, Stray Kids, Ateez, Dreamcatcher, Daft Punk, Sabaton, Avenged Sevenfold, Korn, Virgo/Leo/Cancer/Aquarius/Sagittarius, 1H/3H/5H/11H, Jupiter/Moon/Mercury/Pluto, North and South Node/Ceres, 12/13/33/555/888.

03.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - The archer, Mean, Anti-hero.

Narcissus and Echo, a tragedy of old. You may have been at the mercy of fluctuating between the two. This can be a dance between you and another, or you and your own reflection. You may have pushed someone away. A friend, a family member, yourself, or an authority figure of sorts. Demanding they leave you alone, left them on read or never bothered to open their letters at all, after so long of clinging to their every word. Certain of your independence, a need to put yourself first, desperate self love wholly unrequited. Or perhaps you fought viciously for yourself, but your voice was never heard. As though you always needed someone else to speak your words for them to be taken as right and true. Perhaps you were sent on a glitched quest, "ask your mother" only met with "ask your father", leaving you in the uncertainty of the in between, alone and filled to the brim with unanswered questions and no sense of direction.

You have sought help, asked for assistance, asked all the right questions and really pushed your own cart forwards though it has been uphill. And something or someone always cast stones on your path forward, shoved stick between the wheels to make the process feel so hopeless. There are wounds that you bear that have been left unhealed for years. Still raw and bleeding you dry whilst you try to keep yourself together like cupping water in your hands as it spills through your fingers. But though your path is full of traps and spikes and is uncertain and winding, you know the way forward all within yourself. Because you carry with you the only light you need to find your way. You may cross paths with kind advisors who unseathe their swords to fight for you, and some of them may already be in your life. Those who see the injustice and tear down the thicket ahead to make way for you and protect you whilst you stitch your wounds and ready yourself for battle yourself. Accept the help, encouragement, and follow these kind mercenaries when you get lost. Allow them to carry your burdens when as Atlas you need a break from carrying the world upon your shoulders. Soon you'll be strong enough to do what you need to do. Be better, stronger, healthier, if not for you right now then for those who need you and cherish you and want you by their side in the quests of life. Eventually your actions will prove to be the best for you, and a faint portrait of a future you smiles upon your present self for your decision to keep moving forward.

If you need to put your foot down, do so in earnest. Shoo away guilt and shame, and let go of the idea that you must suffer in silence and weather unnecessary storms, speak when spoken to and follow another's commands so often not in favour of your own well-being. Fight your inner demons, but know you need not fight them alone. Dip a quill in ink and rewrite the rules. Break into the library which holds the book of life and black out that what does not serve you, and take ownership of your own story. If Narcissus treats you poorly, trample him under your foot on your way out the door. He is only a flower now and seasons change, and he will wilt and wither away as you no longer shine upon his petals.

Additional details: Violins, literature, art galleries, sisters and fathers, divorce, babies or children, psychotherapy, CBT, law, changing your name, lgbt+, jazz, classical music, Regina Spektor, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, borzoi, dog videos, playing instruments, writing a book, storytelling, unknown address, exotic animals, spiders, ED, OCD, teddy bears, squishmallows, studying for a test, doctor's appointments, funerals, chill covers/lofi, slowed/reverb/acoustic versions, subliminals, affirmations, lace, fuzzy socks or woolen socks, bruises, house plants, monstera, ivy, pothos, tea collection, cold hands, Taurus/Gemini/Libra/Scorpio/Capricorn, 2H/6H/8H/10H, Saturn/Pluto/Neptune/Venus, IC/MC, 17/23/95/11:11/000/444.

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 1

Chapter 0

♡———♡

I still don't know what love is.

But someday I want to fall in love and know love.

A passionate love like a blazing rose, a fierce love that remains forever like a story someone spun.

???: I see, I see...

???: How amusing.

(...Who?)

The change came to the recurring dream I always had, on the night it was decided I would travel to a foreign country.

In an immature space, a rose garden where many flowers are tightly closed as buds, an unknown person is reading an unfinished story placed on an oak table.

They had a mystical appearance that didn't seem human.

Hair that shimmered with the light of the giant moon rising in the sky, and strange eyes that seemed to hold the starry sky in their depths.

The sacred and beautiful being, blending into the dream space, scoffs at me as I approach.

Emma: What...is it?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of it.

???: Love is not such a good thing.

???: There are times when it is happier to end your life as an innocent you who knows nothing.

I don't know what words they read from the unfinished book.

But the "something" that is not human directly denies what lies at the root of my heart.

Emma: How can you say that so definitively?

???: Because I am a God.

(...God?)

???: I have seen the "love" of many people. Not stories, but the many raw loves that exist in reality...

???: Many of them are people who think they can do anything with "love" as an excuse.

???: It's a miserable thing, a human being driven mad by love.

???: No matter how rational a person is, once they are mad with love, they can no longer live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: ..............

???: You, the fact that the dream world is wrapped in thorns means you are the daughter of Rhodolite, right?

???: Rhodolite also had it. The story of His Majesty the King who lost his love and fell into becoming a beast.

Emma: ...The love story of the previous Belle and His Majesty the King may indeed have been a tragedy.

Emma: But that doesn't mean that all love ends in tragedy.

???: You are quite right. But it also doesn't mean that all love ends in comedy.

???: Why do you crave love?

At the God's question, words catch in my throat.

There was no particular reason.

There is no particular motive.

It doesn't go beyond pure yearning, and I don't have any deep thoughts on love.

Only when I am told do I realize that my longing has no substance.

???: At the very least, I would like to be excused from such a thing as love.

???: --Because I am a god who does not love people.

-

(...Nn...)

Drawn by the gentle sunlight peeking through the window, I opened my eyes to find the familiar ceiling of my room in the city filling my vision.

The immature roses, the God who denied love, all vanished like an illusion.

As soon as I woke up, the memories of the dream crumbled, gradually being repainted with reality.

But there was one fragment of the dream that fell into my heart without disappearing.

("Love is a curse"... huh?)

???: Emma, are you awake?

The door knocker announcing a visitor pushed aside my sleepiness.

(This voice... Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, wait a moment!

???: Ah, it's fine. I'm a gentleman, so I'll wait for you as long as it takes.

(...Wait, I think I heard a voice other than Rio's...)

With a touch of anxiety, I quickly changed clothes, washed my face, and got ready before opening the door.

Standing at the entrance was the dazzling smile of my friend, who had quit being a butler and returned to the city with me.

Rio: Good morning! You look absolutely adorable today too!

Emma: Yes, yes, thank you as always.

Emma: ...What brings you here so early?

Rio: I just came to see you because I wanted to see your face.

Rio: I brought some bread. Would you like to eat together?

Emma: Thank you, I'd love to. Mmm, it smells good...

Rio: It's from your favorite bakery. They have the new divination bread too.

Emma: Divination bread? Sounds interesting!

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. There's something more important than bread, isn't there?

A figure forcibly wedging himself between Rio and me snatched the bag of bread.

(So it wasn't a hallucination after all.)

Giving up my self-defense escapism, I faced the prince, this country's number one problem child, with a dubious smile plastered on his face.

Emma: It's been a while, Prince Clavis.

Clavis: I'm glad you jumped into my arms honestly from the start.

Emma: Thank you for your concern. Why are you here?

Clavis: Now, why do you think?

???: Don't be so coy, just say it already.

(Huh...?)

I couldn't help but widen my eyes at the large figure sitting on a wooden box some distance away.

Emma: Prince Luke was here too!?

Luke: Oh. Sorry for barging in so early in the morning.

Rio: I just happened to run into Prince Clavis and Prince Luke a while ago.

Rio: I haven't heard what they're here for either, but...

(I thought it was unusual for Rio to come this early in the morning... Maybe he was worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden box and lightly lifted the paper bag he was holding.

Luke: Let us join your breakfast party too.

-

A commoner's house, occupied by two princes and a former butler friend... In this space, oppressive both physically and mentally, it was Clavis who broke the silence first.

Clavis: Emma, you're going to Tanzanite soon, aren't you?

Rio: Ugh...

The freshly baked bread lined up on the small table and the sweets Luke brought as a souvenir lightly bounced as Rio bumped his head against the corner.

Clavis: What's wrong?

Rio: ...I have a seizure every time I hear that.

Rio: To think that I won't be able to see my angel, goddess, and fairy, Emma, for a while...

Luke: You're so dramatic.

(The first time I told Rio, he looked like he was about to combust, so this is much better.)

*flashback*

Rio: --Emma is going... to Tanzanite...?

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You just slammed your head into the bookshelf...

Rio: I'm okay... But, why...?

Emma: The owner told me a lot about foreign countries, and I was especially interested in the God in Tanzanite who can perform divination with 100% accuracy.

Emma: If Gods really exist in reality, I thought I'd like to meet one.

Emma: Besides, you know, Tanzanite is famous for tourism, right?

Emma: It's a desert, but I thought it would be a good place for my first trip.

*back to present*

(I felt bad for almost making Rio faint...)

(But I've been excited every day since it was decided I was going to Tanzanite.)

Luke: It's surprising you're not going with her.

Rio: The owner asked me to look after the shop while he's away.

Rio: Of course, I want to go with her!? What if something happens to Emma while I'm not there...?

Rio: But if me staying here will allow Emma to travel with peace of mind, then I... I...

Clavis: Haha, if that's the case, don't worry.

Clavis tore off a piece of bread he was holding, brought it to his mouth, savored it deliciously, and swallowed.

Clavis: We'll be Emma's bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Eh, really? That's great, then I can relax--

Rio: --That's not how it works, is it!? Wait, what do you mean?

(What does he mean!?)

I almost dropped my divination bread and hurriedly caught it.

Clavis: Exactly what I said.

Luke: We're going to Tanzanite too.

Luke, who had stuffed a whole honey-covered pastry into his large mouth, sighed as he licked his fingers.

Luke: I don't want to go because it's a pain, but Chevalier ordered me to go on a diplomatic mission.

(To Tanzanite at this time...)

*flashback*

Akatsuki: Things have been dangerous everywhere lately.

Emma: Could it be... because of the Triple Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. For now, there are no overt moves from any country. But it feels like the calm before the storm.

*back to present*

(...I'm an outsider now, so it's probably best not to pry too deeply.)

Clavis: It's close to your departure date. So, wouldn't you want to go with us?

Clavis: We're planning to use the sea route via Benitoite, and if you board the country's passenger ship, it's practically free.

Clavis: I can see you crying with joy. Ah, I know even without you saying it.

Clavis: Such good fortune to be able to go to a foreign land with your beloved Clavis--

Rio: Objection!

Rio, springing to his feet in the small room, pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: They say there's nothing scarier than something free, so what's your objective?

(As expected of Rio, that's what I wanted to know too.)

Clavis took a sip of the tea I had prepared as if to pause for a breath...

And what appeared on his slightly moistened lips was a meaningful and fearless smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't be so suggestive. There's no deep reason.

Clavis: Luke, read the room.

Luke: You should.

Luke: This guy issued a notice to all officials to report any interesting information regarding Emma to him immediately.

Emma: So you knew about my trip to Tanzanite because...

Luke: The official who issued your departure permit ratted you out.

Emma: Isn't that an abuse of power!?

Clavis: What are you talking about? It's his job.

Luke: This guy was jumping for joy when he learned about your first trip, saying "Delightful."

Luke: He volunteered to go to Tanzanite himself, and I was stuck with babysitting Nokto.

Luke: He said, "I have to give Emma at least one sane person because she's pitiful."

(Thank you, Nokto!)

Luke: But, if you really can't stand it, I'll take responsibility and bury Clavis in the woods.

Clavis: There's no need to worry about that. Emma must be trembling with joy, right?

Luke: ...You should get your eyes checked by a doctor before you leave the country.

Rio: ...I'm worried. I'm very worried.

(I should probably consult with the owner since I'm not traveling alone... )

(But it's reassuring to have someone I know in an unfamiliar place, not just Clavis but Luke too.)

Lost in thought and worry, I furrowed my brow and tore the divination bread I was holding in half.

Emma: Ah.

(Something came out from inside.)

It was a small figurine made of pottery.

It was modeled after a horned horse, standing gallantly on the palm of my hand.

Rio: As expected of Emma! That's a jackpot.

Clavis: Oh ho... Indeed, the unicorn is currently considered the "symbol of good luck" across the continent.

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yes. It's a good sign, you should keep it as a charm.

Clavis: After all, the unicorn has a special meaning in the desert country...?

(I don't really associate unicorns with deserts...)

Emma: If that's the case, it seems like it will bring good luck.

Luke: You've been a good girl. Lots of good things will happen to you even without a unicorn.

I gently wrapped the unicorn in my hand with my fingers.

The unexpected good fortune seemed to be pushing me forward, confirming that my current honest feelings were "right."

Clavis: So, Emma, will you go with us...?

-

The gateway to Tanzanite, the land of divination and illusions enveloped in desert, was a bustling port town like Benitoite, thriving with merchants.

Emma: This is Tanzanite...!

(I had heard it was a desert, so I thought there would be more sandstorms raging...)

There was no hint of desert in the lively town.

However, the attire of the animals and people passing through the town was clearly different from that of Rhodolite and Benitoite, and coupled with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it made me feel like I was standing in a foreign land.

(I've really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is far. It's too early to be frolicking around.

The owner, carrying luggage for his business trip, lined up next to me.

I was also carrying a bag full of books, but it was nothing compared to the owner's.

Emma: Should I carry some more of your luggage?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(It looks like there are easily 100 books, and he carries them all by himself...)

Clavis: Even though we offered to help, Akatsuki is quite serious, isn't he?

Luke: Emma, I can also carry some for you.

Clavis and Luke, who were on the same ship, were lightly dressed in contrast to us.

Emma: Thank you. But this is my first purchasing trip, so I want to carry my luggage myself.

Emma: Selling books in a foreign land, buying new ones...

Emma: I'm really looking forward to seeing how much the contents of my bag will change between the outbound and return trips.

Luke: You're really lively.

Clavis: Akatsuki has a good assistant.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two going now?

Akatsuki: Someone is coming to pick us up.

Emma: ...Pick us up?

Where the owner unnaturally shifted his gaze, an eye-catching beauty was standing.

(Wow...)

She was a tall, bewitching woman dressed in extravagant ornaments, no less impressive than the owner in his vibrantly colored ruby red attire.

Next to her was a gentle-looking man with glasses, who, upon noticing us, broke into a smile and approached.

Man with glasses: We've been waiting for you, Akatsuki. And...

Emma: I'm Emma. I've come as the owner's assistant.

Basil: Ah, I heard about you in the letter. Nice to meet you, please call me Basil.

Basil: And this flamboyant woman here is Kamal.

Kamal: ............

Kamal smiled seductively and showed me the words "Nice to meet you" from a bundle of papers she took out of her pocket.

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can't speak, so please communicate with her through writing.

(I see...)

Emma: Understood. It's a pleasure to meet you both.

Clavis: ...Hmm.

Beside us, as we exchanged greetings amicably, Clavis rested his chin on his hand.

Clavis: You are servants of the Living God, are you not?

(...Eh?)

Basil: Impressive! How did you know?

Clavis: Well, you have the proof of faith, don't you?

Clavis pointed to his own chest with his finger.

Both Basil and Kamal had their cloak clasps in that spot.

(...Looking closely, there's a unicorn on the clasp.)

(Is this the "proof of faith"?)

Clavis: I once heard that those close to God wear unicorn ornaments.

Clavis: Also, a few years ago, I heard a story about the book merchant that Prince Azel employs.

Clavis: I had a hunch, but it seems Akatsuki's client is a big shot.

Emma: Client... You mean God?

Akatsuki: Whether it's God or royalty, a customer is a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He didn't tell me that!?)

The owner, who didn't change his expression at all, might be a more amazing person than I thought.

Basil: We will always serve as guides for Akatsuki.

Basil: Prince Clavis and Prince Luke, please go that way. The court envoy is waiting for you.

Clavis: Haha, as expected of your discerning eye, to know not only about me but also about the newcomer Luke.

Clavis: Rhodolite shouldn't have sent a prior notice about who was coming, so it must be a prophecy from the Living God, right?

(...!)

Basil: That's right! Prince Azel is truly an amazing person! Can I talk about this? Is the atmosphere okay? It's okay, right?

(He suddenly started talking fast...?)

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he pushed up his glasses and made them shine, a complete change from his calm demeanor.

Then she took out another stack of papers and showed the word "Let's go."

(...That sounded like his skull cracked, is he okay?)

Luke: Well, we'll say goodbye here for now.

Clavis: I'll come to see you myself before Emma starts crying from loneliness, okay?

Emma: I don't think I'll cry from loneliness, but let's meet again.

(With this flow... we're going straight to God's place, right?)

(Oh no, I'm getting nervous.)

(I wonder what the real God is like.)

-

Azel: Thank you for making the trip to such a remote place.

Emma: Ah!

.

.

.

Chapter 2

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[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 8

A/N: So sorry this chapter is coming so late into January. I hope everyone is doing well. Let's get this chapter rolling!

Summary: Love comes with many sacrifices.

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Chapter 8

He’s up all night as if consumed by grief all over again.

Adrian is familiar with the feeling, the ache within his chest, which devours him whole.

It stings in his body and mind when he rises with the sun, clouded and forgetting the previous night’s memories. He tells himself he will never be vulnerable with another, over and over, but his time spent with you draws that closeness he needs. He was craving more and more of your closeness and it grew easier and easier to feel it with you.

He was sure that if the consumption of wine continued, he would’ve done something he regretted, unravelling all the work to form an attachment and friendship that took so long to create.

It was the wine, he told himself. It causes anyone to do stupid things.

But it’s not the wine, he knows it. He knows it’s an excuse – a poor one to use when facing something far more lethal than a friendship on the line. He knew it had to be wrong, to put you in a position that made you downright uncomfortable, and the soft touches the two of you shared brought him far bigger feelings than he’d ever felt before.

It wasn’t far from trusting someone anyone, he knew it was something that could’ve been done long ago to betray him. And despite it, Adrian fears it could come any day, no matter how much his emotions grow.

He feels like a boy with a childish crush, not fully understanding the entire complexity of it all. It feels far more real than a simple crush: Adrian yearns for it, begs for its stay, to flourish and build into something much more. It’s a desire, a wish to anyone who would listen.

No, it would never happen. He told himself over and over again, cold in the bed as if there had been another beside him. It was far different to that fateful night, and the ghost of arms around him felt more tender than they had ever been. She is my friend, my closest friend.

Adrian had never felt colder.

When the sun reached his eyes, he squinted, as if its heat would finally put him out and catch him ablaze. Anything to end my misery. He wondered if more wine had been left, but it would’ve started a routine he dared not start again. Not with you around.

He said he would never return to that, not when you stayed.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered into the chill of the air, awareness hitting him like a blow to the face. If he was truly wanting to remain sober for you, something was deathly wrong. “I truly am becoming a Belmont.”

He rises with the rest of the day, telling himself he will apologise if you’re still stiff with him, but he will continue as if all the previous days had been the same. Nothing to hide, except for muddled emotions.

It’s the reminder to himself when he looked over the fireplace mantel, sitting cosy above with its pretty dark curls he made by uncoiling dark thread, and brown buttons for eyes, the skin tone as close to yours as possible, that he cannot have you finding this of all things.

-

“Are you ready?”

You draw your eyes over to the blond, readying a chestnut mare, the two of you standing in the castle stables. Adrian tells you that the town is not too far, it may take a bit longer to get back with such a large supply he hopes for. The castle’s food supply was dwindling, and Adrian kept a list of what needed to be restocked.

Adrian was kind in giving you some spare clothes, simply because you didn’t want to get your pretty dresses dirty: simple dark pants with a pair of riding boots, a dark green vest and a white tunic shirt that was too big and you had to cinch in with a belt. You also carried on you a small satchel, a cloak and gloves in case of the cold.

“Yes,” you shuffle closer to him, wary of the large beast in front of you, its beady black eyes staring right into your soul, “it’s a beautiful creature.”

“Indeed,” Adrian answers, soothing the horse by scratching just behind the back of its neck, behind its ears, “she is a gentle soul. She will not be frightened by you.”

You warily stare ‘her’ up and down, inquisitively, “What is her name?”

“Oh,” the Dhampir seems understandably abashed for not giving her one, “I did not think that far.”

“Really?” You stare between him and the beast, surprise blooming in your voice. It only makes sense for you to give her a name now! “How about… Lady? No, no—or maybe—”

“Luna?”

His voice catches you by surprise, but it is a wonderful idea. “Luna?”

“It’s a pretty name,” Adrian strokes her snout affectionately, “I like the other name too.”

“No, I like Luna more.” You follow with a guide of Adrian’s hand in knowing where to stroke Luna; just above her snout, his hands lingering longer than you both expected in this subtle affection before he pulls back. His touch still lingers, and it comforts you the size of his hand compared to yours.

“Shall we get going?”

“Indeed.”

It takes some minutes of humbling yourself to get onto a horse- with Adrian’s help- but you’re far more ashamed of how you embarrassed yourself in front of him. It’s not graceful how you straddle, the discomfort that comes from your legs so far apart and how you’re already dreading when it moves.

 Adrian is quicker than you, almost leaping on with ease as he sits behind you, his hands coming from behind to grab at the reigns.

“Easy,” you think he’s telling the horse to be at ease, but you realise it’s directed to you, his hands reassuring you, “You’re not going anywhere, little witch.”

You’re thankful he can’t see the way your face heats, the way you wish he would do what he said, but you have to stop those thoughts from occurring.

The laugh that comes from you is more of a wheeze, and you correct yourself before you can embarrass yourself further. “Are you talking to the horse or me, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckles lightly at your jab but knows it is all a tease. He guides the horse out from the stable, and almost immediately begins a sprint. The castle seems like a speck in the distance the further you travel, trees whipping past like shadows of figures you thought were human.

Animals could be heard within the trees as if they surrounded you, but instead of fear, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and across your face. You imagined this was what it felt like to be a bird, or the fastest horse free in a field. It was in some way what you imagined what a vampire felt like hidden and part of wildlife.

With the speed and wind on your side, you arrived in the town by the time the sun was highest in the sky. You forgot how lively a town could be: bustling with life. People of all ages, genders and skin tones wandered the market. Mothers with their babes and young children playing around her skirts. Those who came to sell and trade within the markets. Couples of old and young fill the streets with tender displays of affection for one another.

It made you blush when you looked around, realising that some could maybe say the same about you and Adrian looking like a couple. Would Adrian notice this too? Would he feel ashamed to be associated with you?

You didn’t realise you had been distracted by your thoughts when you felt a tender hand shaking you gently out of your thoughts. Blinking owlishly, Adrian stood before you, his golden eyes were wrought with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Overwhelmed, but I’ll survive,” you told him, puffing your chest out to show you weren’t feeling all sorts of worries. “Have you got the list?”

Adrian doesn’t want to shake away his concerns for you, but he unravels the crumpled note from inside his coat pocket to hand to you. You scan over it quickly before you nod. “See you back at the carriage?”

“I must hire one first,” Adrian chortles, “but yes, I shall see you then… be safe.”

Be safe.

It’s enough to make your heart swoon, and you nod, fleeing like a lovesick teenager who just said hi to her crush. You absorb yourself by finding the necessary things, trying your best to not get engrossed by the things around you.

You get mostly through your list before something catches your gaze.

An array of jewels of different sizes and colours greet you: some attached to bracelets, necklaces and brooches, others gaudy and lavish and sitting for all to see. It doesn’t take you long to fully stop and be standing in front of the older woman’s stall, looking over them carefully.

If only I had enough money.

“The peridot would suit you nicely, young lady,” you look up to catch the warm gaze of the woman, her crow’s eyes wrinkled. “Or alexandrite. Very pretty, will catch anyone’s eye.”

“They are very pretty,” you muse, though you already know you won’t be buying anything from her, it is always nice to look around. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Light colours would suit your skin tone,” she begins as she points to different items, holding them as if for you to compare until the next thing to come from her mouth leaves you practically gasping, “I’m sure your husband would agree.”

“Husband?”

“There you are.”

The first thing you notice is the arm that snakes its way around your waist, a body leaning in closely to you as you feel your body freeze on the spot. Adrian is looking over the jewels with you with interest, softly musing to himself, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You’re gawking now, no words are coming to you and it’s only when the old woman brings up impatiently that you’re buying anything that Adrian pulls a bag from his pocket, casually handing the woman the change as if it's nothing. “The peridot I think would look lovely on you.”

He’s moving away, back to the wagon with you following behind like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” You whisper when it’s just the two of you, watching the world go by.

“What do you mean?” He asks as he pulls out the necklace to inspect himself. “I thought this colour would look nice on you.”

“Yes,” you replied, fiddling with the hem of your gloves. “It’s just—”

Adrian seems to read you easily, and he knows when you’re showing some discomfort. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“Far from it,” you laugh it off, though your heart hammers to great lengths, “She had been the one to say I had a husband.”

Your laugh leaves Adrian silent, quieter than he normally is, and it leaves you spiralling. What was he thinking? Was he too uncomfortable with the choice of words?

“Turn round for me?”

You blink thoughtlessly at the question, slowly following as you turn your back on him. You have to stop yourself from gasping aloud when his gloved fingers graze over the back of your neck, pulling back your curls to give him a proper view.

You’re shivering, and you realise what state you’re in, crumbling just from a singular touch, but you try your best to keep your cool. Adrian steps close behind you, his scent is strong in your nostrils as he collects the links of the necklace, putting it around your neck before securing it.

 “It suits you.” He quips, knowing that his words are having an impact on you, before he turns away to the cart, you follow hot on his heels to nag him for making you feel so unsteady.

-

It's sometime later on the cart on your way back when Adrian suddenly touches your hand.

Even when he wears his leather gloves, you can feel the warmth that resonates within him, the raw strength and power that comes from him. He’s a killer, a killer who could’ve overpowered you a long time ago, but who you put your undying trust in.

Your shock freezes you as you look over at him, his gaze on the road ahead, but you know for a fact, that he’s aware you’re staring. “Is something the matter?” He draws softly, looking at you through his peripheral.

“You’re…” You can’t find the right words, but you direct your gaze to his free hand occupied in holding yours, and he follows. “My hand,” he states coolly, though you feel as if there is a hidden motive to this. “You were cold.”

Right, you tell yourself that, and a harsh chill bristles through you before you have time to think it through. He’s smart, too smart.

“Oh." You don’t consider he’s telling the whole truth, but you don’t shake away the way he’s holding your hand. It brings a great comfort to you. You’re still side-eyeing him as he continues on the road, the silence that envelops you is calming and quaint.

You’re very aware that your heart is hammering, the necklace wrapped around your neck is being twirled as you think heavily with your thoughts. Shall you tell him now how you feel? Would that break everything you built with him? It’s only a matter of time before your feelings are split accidentally and your friendship is cursed.

You squeeze his fingers to get his attention, “Adrian, there is something I wish to tell you-”

You’re lurched forward from your seat at the front of the cart, the suddenness of it is all to not still your nerves. The horses snorted in anxiousness, and all around you stood still as if holding their breath. Adrian’s eyes were deadest on something within the trees, and you couldn’t help but feel even more nervous at what could be out there.

“Night creatures?” You whisper to Adrian, but he only gives a glance your way, a way to tell you it was way, way worse.

It was still far too early for creatures of the night to be out, but with the fading sun passing over the horizon of the trees, that was when you spotted them.

They blended with the trees at first, but you could see their silhouettes, standing as rigid as statues, ready as soldiers for war, staring down at you like vultures. They can’t be just human bandits on the road, their presence alone gave off a bad omen. You don’t know how many you count, their clothes blend as one with the growing darkness as the sun settles.

Adrian’s voice is already speaking to you, cutting the silence with a knife.

“Y/N, get to the back of the cart, do not come out until I tell you so,” it’s not a warning, but an order, and you don’t want to waste his time by stalling. His voice is serious, eyes stone cold as he glares down at the figures not far and lurking around the trees.

Adrian easily hops down from his spot as he flicks the scabbard off his longsword. You watch in a mix of wonder and dread at the scene that unfolds.

The figures draw in closer, watching and snarling as Adrian holds a solid line, almost unfazed as he holds the sword close to his face.

His sword glows suddenly as if imbued with holy light, a shocking flow of blue flames engulfs it, glowing and hissing with life. The flames flicker close to Adrian’s face as he readies his action, changing his stance before he is on the closest one.

He’s quicker than your eyes can register, a shadow of crimson shifts as he moves at lightning pace, soon in front of the hooded creature as his sword moves as one with him. He is no longer holding it, rather, the two of them move as if it is a dance, fluid and graceful.

A hiss of a cry lurches into the darkening skies, one is down on the ground, its skin hissing and bubbling as it disintegrates.

Two more are on him with a flash, but Adrian fights with valour and dances around him, swords crashing against the sound of their taloned nails. You’ve not stuck around to know what was happening, having crawled through to the back of the cart for safety.

Once huddled in a spot surrounded by crates, you can only rely on sound: clashes of silver clang loudly around you, bodies fall and you have no clue if Adrian is winning or not. You can only assume he is, from the way you can still hear the glow of his magic sword, twirling around as silent as he is.

Another noise resonates from just outside, creeping behind you and you freeze, before the sound of splattering blood and a gargled choke dies down. You look just to your left to see that the material of the cart is splattered in the thick, viscous liquid, and you shudder that Adrian is here to protect you.

You don’t know how many of them are left, and you can only think that the best thing for you to do is protect yourself if one finds you inside. You scramble to your feet, clumsily looking for any blade that could be of use. You find only a flimsy dagger, and you clutch it close to your chest as you settle in the back of the cart, trying to calm your racing heart.

Something draws in close and you stutter a gasp before you realise it’s too late. The figure pauses almost dramatically, inching closer to the back of the cart, their movement deliberately slow, trying to edge as much fear out from you.

You pray it’s Adrian coming to your rescue, to tell you the area has been cleared, but as the face emerges through the curtains of the entrance to the cart, it’s not those golden eyes you’ve grown to love staring back at you.

They’re red, crimson as the blood that will soon spill from you.

Your screams fall silent as the face erupts into a smile, wide and fanged as the rest of its vampiric kind. The dagger in your grasp feels more like a twig as you stare down, wide-eyed the vampire in front of you.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his voice is soft yet hoarse, and his red eyes seemed unblinking as he seemed to taunt you from the entrance, blocking one of the ways you could escape. “What a delicacy you’ll be.”

Your fight or flight had kicked in and instead of either of them, you had become frozen in your spot, dreading that this would be the way you died, dying in a smelling cart as a vampire ripped at your throat.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, inching closer, a clawed hand bracing the inside of the cart as he further draws inside, “I’ll make sure I’m quick with you.”

-

Adrian's POV

Blood soaks through the leather of his clothing, but he is thankful it is there’s and not his.

The last of the creatures die within an inch of him, sizzling into nothingness as he stares down what remains. Ash of their bones and the burnt clothes remain, the reminder to anyone who crossed him he would do it a hundred times over.

All in the name of love.

He had once didn’t understand the meaning of love, the way it would pull at his heart and lurch within him. He needed it as if it was necessary like water or food, a hunger that he yearned for in the waking hours of the day to the late hours of twilight.

He is his father's son after all.

Dracula did it in the name of love, and he found he was killing his kind all to keep you safe.

“Y/N, it’s safe.” He calls you to, and he listens for any sound except for the sounds of nature surrounding him. It’s startling how quiet the outside world could be, and how quickly his heart could plummet in knowing something was deeply, deeply wrong.

His heightened senses could not smell blood, not the blood that came from you but what had fizzled and dried. It seemed almost deathly quiet, but Adrian’s mind was racing, the pulling of his heart meant you were not here, or worse, he had failed to keep you safe.

A scream brings his attention, and he wastes no time in hurtling towards the back of the cart, his heart racing.

No, no, no, if he's failed in doing the one thing, he's failed you and himself.

He hasn't even got his face an inch through the gap before he senses something telling him to move out of the way, an object being flung just where his face would be. His head snaps to see a dagger clatter to the dirt just behind him before it turns to what stands before him, a snarl leaving his curled lips.

You were safe, for now, though the vampire he failed to miss had his disgusting fangs inches from the base of his neck, his clawed hands wrapped around you, keeping your body locked to his chest.

 “Son of Dracula, the Messiah,” the vampire greets him, observing him with a lazy smile. You continue to squirm in his grasp, eyes locked onto Adrian for any semblance of safety. “Care to take a bite of your pet first or shall I do the honour?”

His venom is bitter and his anger is boiling at the words he uses for you. How dare he call you a pet!

“Unhand her now,” his voice resonates inside him and he channels his father, the voice he would use and boom across the castle grounds, “I will not ask you again.”

“Ah, ah, one step and I spill her neck open.” The hooded vampire fusses, his movements almost consoling to Y/N as he runs a hand down her cheek, tears drying on her skin. “This one is a waste if you keep it.”

He laughs easily as he stares Adrian down, his next words bringing Adrian close to lopping his head clean off. “Though it is no surprise, you are Dracula’s son, keeping human women around as your pets. It was Dracula’s weakness,” he leant close into Y/N, drinking up her tears as he licked his tongue up the side of her face, “and it will be your undoing.”

Adrian is hunched as if ready to pounce to get him off you, but his golden eyes are never leaving you. A cry leaves your lips when his tongue licks up the side of your face, and you’re shivering, hands clutched around the tightened grip of his forearm.

There is a silent connection that only he can feel when you are close, and it comes from your eyes that stare back at him. They don’t seem as frightened as they did before, and he believes he knows you want him to be calm and not quick to action. Your eyes calm him like a storm approaching, ready to destroy all in its wake.

The vampire holding you runs a hand through the links of your necklace, the hands glimmer in the low light inside and it’s the only thing Adrian sees, trying to not imagine it coated in blood. “Such sweet, sweet blood.” The vampire says, his face drawing into your neck, but you stop him from doing anything further.

With your hands clutching his forearms tightly, Adrian watches how you shut your eyes tight, before shouting the words that resonate through you:

“Ardeo!”

It amazes him every time when you speak that spell, the way flames spill from your hands as easily as water flowing. The endless cycle of nature flows through you, and the power within your hands cries with a mighty scream that neither Adrian nor you know who it’s coming from.

The flames roar as they lick up the clothes of the vampire, and his screams join in fright as they clutch around his arm, a grip in itself that never lets him go. They take and they take, scorching the fabric as they bury deep into the skin.

The vampire is held in place as if something within an endless cycle of life and death ties him to his spot, scorched by your touch as he squirms and screams. He sounds like a pig, Adrian notes, but the sound is as annoying as the actual animal dying.

The vampire is quick though, and though his arm is distorted, blackened and charred, he shoves you away from him, his nails catching you by the skin of your arm, nicking it as you collide with the side of the cart.

Adrian is there in a flash to end it all, to end its misery, to end its hellish torment. He does it for you when his sword is a flash of lightning, quick to the bite and cold as a kiss to the vampire’s neck, coming out the other end before anyone could realise.

Your breath is caught in your throat as you’re unaware you’ve been cut, though the adrenaline dies down as quickly as the body slumps in front of you, turning to ash before your very eyes.

Adrian is beside you, a hand tending to your arm before the sting catches up with you. You hiss in pain, realising what had happened and how deep the wound is. Three long scratches reach down to your elbow, bleeding freely.

“Careful.” He’s quiet with his words, delicate as if treating you like the fine China you are. He rips part of your shirt, wrapping the open wound to stop the flow of blood. He reminds himself he needs to clean it when you return to the castle.

You’re staring at him as he does so, your eyes glazed over as if in a daze, and before he has time to register if you’re okay, he feels something press against his cheek, and he realises it’s your warm lips, chaste and sweet.

“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning into him as the silence fills the cart. Adrian is silent for what feels like forever, but his mind is screaming. You kissed him, and he’s gaping like a dead fish. You kissed him and he feels like a boy all over again.

He shakes out of his thoughts to collect himself, to calm the rush of blood that goes straight to his head, and he feels lightheaded, but he gladly accepts your embrace, cradling you to his chest.

“No... thank you.”

-

Latin Translation:

Ardeo - (I) burn

[daybreakrising]

The Palais is quiet, the evening twilight drawing in over the Court of Fontaine. The bustle of the day's work has dwindled to a crawl as the last of the clerks leave for home, paperwork filed or set aside to continue in the morning. Soon, all that can be heard is the light-hearted skipping of the resident Melusines, the occasional patrol of the night shift gardes making their rounds...

...and the soft, gentle lilt of music coming from an upstairs chamber.

Fingers dance almost tentatively across the keys of the old piano, the hesitancy traced to being centuries out of practice, rather than any self-conscious nerves at being overheard. The piece of music is an old favourite, one he has such fond memories of playing alongside the accompaniment of his sister's violin, and so, despite the years that have passed since last he sat at a piano, muscle memory takes over.

Someone, he notes, has made sure to take care of this piano, to keep it in tune. He has a sneaking suspicion he knows who. It is unlikely to be the same piano he remembers from the Palais from all those years ago, but it is in the same place - though he had not dared to touch it back then. Music was something in his past, something tainted by grief and loss, and even if he had been bold enough to ask, he wouldn't have been able to play a single tune without a bitter taste in his mouth and a deep ache in his chest.

Things are different, now. Lots of things are different now. The grief remains, yes, but he can once again find joy in music, in dance, and he can thank the very same person who has ensured this piano stays in perfect condition.

He pauses after the last notes of the song, fingers hovering above the keys as he considers what to play next. He thinks of several tunes, all of them familiar, but the mood doesn't feel right for this moment - too light, too fast, too happy. He wants something softer, slower, something more... emotional. Music used to be a way for him to work through his feelings, to express himself. Perhaps it can be again.

A few tentative notes fill the room as he idly walks his fingertips across the keys, no specific tune in mind. Feel your way through the music, Vautrin. Let your heart choose the notes. His father's voice fills his head, and he is a boy again, sitting beside him at the piano where he had first learned to play. He remembers being so determined to make his father proud, remembers closing his eyes to search deep within himself, to find the notes in his heart. He remembers his hands gliding rapidly across the keys, fingers stretching to their limit to mimic the skill his father possessed.

His hands are larger now, his reach farther, and he no longer needs to search so deep within himself - he has the music of Fontaine within his heart now. This time, when he closes his eyes, it is not to summon the emotions to guide his hands, but merely to focus on the notes he is already playing. The tune he produces has a yearning melancholy to it at first, a pining sorrow that tells a story of heartache, heartbreak, and tragedy.

Then, little by little, it lightens, softens - it is never a happy tune, but it carries the sound of hope, summons a feeling of warmth even amidst the melancholy that continues alongside. It sings of the sea, rising and falling like the crash of waves, and underneath it all there is a tune that resonates within the chest, like the mighty, mourning cry of some primordial beast. Like the sound of a sea dragon calling from the deep.

As his fingers still, the song drifting away to silence, he exhales a slow breath and feels a sense of relief that he hasn't felt in a long, long time. It feels good to channel the complicated tangle of emotions in his heart, his mind, into a piece of music. It is almost as if it is easier for him to understand them in this medium, easier to process them. Easier to face them. He exhales another breath, opens his eyes for the first time since he started playing-

-and catches the draconic gaze of Neuvillette.

The Iudex is perched comfortably in a chair, legs crossed, looking as regal and elegant and beautiful as ever. Vautrin did not hear him enter - either the man had moved in stealthy silence, or he had been so caught up in playing that he was deaf to all else. Knowing himself, it is likely to be the latter. Regardless, he has no idea how long Neuvillette has sat there, how much of his heart's song he has heard.

"Ah, Neuvillette..." Heat threatens to flood into his face. "My apologies, I... I did not hear you come in. I was just..." Letting my heart choose the notes. "It's been a while since I last played. I hope you don't mind."

He smiles, softly, feeling vulnerable and raw but for once not afraid to let it show. He will not be judged, not here, not by this man. He knows this now; he has started to accept this without question, without doubt. It is safe to be himself with the other - but there is a part of him now that hopes, prays, that Neuvillette does not ask him what song it was he just played.

He's not ready, yet, to tell him. He's not sure if Neuvillette is ready to know.

drabble for @apocryphis :)

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part I

Ahh I can’t believe it’s finally done! After a year of working on this beast, it’s finally ready for me to share. This is something I started way back last summer, and I decided to finish it as my project for this year’s @geraskierbigbang. It will be ten parts in total, and I will post one part per day until it is complete! There are several art pieces that were created by the wonderful @herostag​ and Miranda.draws for this story, which I will link when the appropriate section is posted. For a summary and further links, please see the masterpost.

Next | Ao3 | Masterpost

“Alright,” Geralt said. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Yennefer looked up at him with bright eyes, curious and already mirthful. She was sitting across from him in his quarters, reading through a tome she’d found in Kaer Morhen’s disheveled library. Geralt had just come from a bath after hours spent training Ciri in the yard, and the room was filled with the warm evening light, supplemented by the fire crackling in the hearth. Yennefer had insisted on carting dozens of tapestries and drapes to hang around the drafty keep, and the room was nearly stuffy with their bulk keeping the heat in.

Yennefer gave him an amused smirk. “I will make no such promises before I even know what you’re going to say.” The gentle teasing brought a fond smile to Geralt’s face. After the events of the mountain all those years ago, things had been understandably tense. Yennefer had been reluctant to join them when she had finally met up with Geralt after Sodden, but had eventually agreed to seek refuge in the witchers’ keep and teach Ciri to control her magic. Once she’d met the girl it had all been a wash; it was clear as soon as their eyes met across the room that Yennefer was as much a part of Ciri’s destiny as Geralt was.

Geralt had expected that to either mend the rift between them enough for things to go back to the way things were, or make things even more awkward. Instead, they found themselves in a sort of in-between. Over the years his affection for Yennefer had only grown, but he found himself looking to her more and more as a friend—maybe his best friend. After Jaskier, of course.

Speaking of. “I was thinking about Jaskier.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes obviously. “As you are so frequently wont to do. The thaw will come soon enough, dear, and you can run off in search of your bard.”

Geralt felt his ears grow warm. Witchers couldn’t blush, not truly, but he still felt the tingle of it as he fidgeted with embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, absently tracing a finger against the grain of the wooden table. There were two goblets of wine sitting between them, but so far neither of them had begun to drink. “Do you know how many winters it’s been since I found Ciri?”

If she was confused by the odd turn in subject matter, Yennefer didn’t show it. Instead she looked thoughtful. “Two, perhaps three? You know I don’t follow the seasons with diligence.”

“Neither do I,” Geralt agreed. “I was thinking the same though, two or three years since the fall of Cintra. Which means Jaskier is…” He paused, trying to do the math. “He was a few years past forty, during the dragon hunt, I think. He must be closer to fifty now than not.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him. “I recall mentioning something about his crows feet. What of it? Humans age. Are you only just discovering this?”

Geralt forced himself not to grumble. In a way, he was only discovering it. He’d known humans across the years, of course, and knew that many that he’d once been acquainted with were no longer alive or were in their twilight years. For decades Geralt had wandered through the world, changing no more than a ghost would, touching the lives of regular mortals for a brief instance, maybe a few times if they were particularly unlucky. No one had stayed by his side, dedicated themselves to a relationship with him, the way that the bard had. The amount of devotion that Jaskier showed to him had made Geralt antsy, in earlier years, and then confused and angry by turn. He had hated the idea of someone needing him, had hated needing someone in return. The way his chest felt heavy when he and Jaskier parted ways had left him furious with himself and the bard.

And then Ciri came into his life, and everything had changed so quickly.

With Ciri, it didn’t matter whether Geralt felt like he should care for her, or if he wanted to. He needed to. Without him, the girl would die, or be kidnapped by Nilfgaard for who knows what purpose. He had to feed her, and clothe her, and teach her, and he had to love her for her to thrive.

She made it very easy. It was only afterwards that he realized how much of an idiot he’d been to Jaskier, and the thought of how he’d treated the bard over the years had plagued him. It had been months before he could find him to apologize, but Jaskier forgave him almost immediately—which Geralt found both relieving and infuriating at the same time. This was the first winter they’d spent apart since. Geralt left the keep more rarely now, heading out on the Path only when the months grew truly warm and returning at the first hint of falling leaves. Ciri was safe on her own, he knew, but he missed her when he was away. And he could admit now that one of the forces driving him back into the world over the last few years had been the itching desire to find Jaskier again and settle the yearning in his chest for another year. He was less inclined to venture forth when his bard, his daughter, Yennefer and his brothers were all in one place.

This winter Jaskier had begged off, saying that he had “work in the south,” which could mean anything from spending a decadent winter in the court of some noble or sludging through the front lines as a Redanian spy. Geralt had learned not to pry too deeply into Jaskier’s business when he wasn’t around. It was often either too explicit for him to stomach or too confidential for Jaskier to share freely.

It worried him, being away from the bard for so long. He could get hurt, or captured by Nilfgaard, or worse. But what really terrified Geralt was the idea that he would find Jaskier in a tavern along the Path and realize that the bard had grown old, to find silver in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes. “He’s getting too old,” Geralt said to Yennefer, who looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You must have known when you started travelling with him that he would eventually leave you,” Yennefer said, not unkindly. “Humans are so short lived.”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice about becoming his muse,” Geralt said with a huff. Despite his improved relationship with Jaskier over the past few years, he still found it difficult to admit that he had always been more than willing to let the bard tag along. If he’d wanted to travel alone, he would have. But he never had. “I just didn’t realize…”

“It always comes sooner than you think it will,” Yennefer sighed. She set her book aside and picked up her goblet of wine, turning to look out the large window their table sat in front of. It faced west out of the keep wall, towards the mountains and the forest beyond. The sun had set below the craggy peaks, throwing the snow covered valley below into darkness. Geralt could just make out the ruins of the old tower, its stones dark against the white landscape. “You can’t cure his mortality, Geralt.”

“We did.”

The look that Yennefer gave him was sharp, almost angry. The firelight in the room turned her violet eyes darker, like mulberry wine. “At great cost,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine you would put him through the Trials.”

A stab of panic shot through his gut at the thought. “No. Of course not. He wouldn’t survive it anyways. Only children stand a chance at all.”

Yennefer nodded, apparently satisfied that Geralt hadn’t completely lost his mind. “The boy hasn’t got an ounce of Chaos in him, in spite of his rather chaotic nature, so I highly doubt they’ll accept him as a late trainee at Ban Ard.”

“There must be other ways,” Geralt said, feeling petulant. “Less conventional.”

“I cannot believe we are actually discussing this,” Yennefer said, rising to her feet. She picked up her book from the table as well as her glass. “There is no way to achieve immortality, especially not without sacrifice. You know that, Geralt. Drop this foolish line of thought.”

Geralt rose after her, reaching out to catch her retreating wrist. A grasp loose enough that she could break it, if she wanted, but Yennefer paused. “Please, Yen. Just… look into it for me? I can’t—the thought of—” He cut himself off, dropping his hand away from her arm. The look she gave him was more pitying than he would have liked.

“I’ll do some research, but nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up, Geralt. There’s a reason there are so few of us,” she said. Her face softened slightly, as much as it ever did. Despite Ciri, Yennefer was still made of more glass and fire than anything else. “I know you love him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. I promise, I will do my best.”

Geralt nodded wordlessly as she left and wondered if Jaskier's eyes would be as bright next time he saw him.

*

For weeks Yennefer said nothing about his request, and Geralt refocused on spending time with Ciri and preparing to depart for the spring. Lambert and Eskel had already left a month before, as soon as the road down the mountain began to thaw, but Geralt had hung back. The roof needed repairs, a difficult job to do in the midst of winter, and it was a hard task to leave for Vesemir alone. It was always like this, now—him looking for odd jobs to keep him at Kaer Morhen, with Ciri, making excuses until Jaskier’s jitteriness or Vesemir’s raised eyebrows forced them on the road again. Some of that was mitigated this season by the silence he heard when he found himself listening for the sounds of lute strings strumming gently in the background, and Geralt’s increasing anxiety about Jaskier’s wellbeing. Even so, it was hard to leave Ciri behind.

The girl was progressing rapidly as she entered her teen years, the chubbiness of her youth morphing into lean if awkward muscle as she continued to work on her swordsmanship. When Geralt and his brothers weren’t pushing her through drills, she was studying monsters and alchemy with Vesemir, or practicing her magic with Yen. She never seemed to tire, eagerly absorbing any lessons passed on to her and desperate to prove her worth. The only person she seemed to let her guard down around was Geralt, who found himself often goading her into mock wrestling matches (which he refused to throw on principle) and humoring her when she became restless and wanted to explore beyond the keep. Kaer Morhen was dangerous in the winter, but as spring approached and the deep snows on the surrounding mountains began to thaw, the duo spent more and more time trekking through old ruins and sleeping beneath the stars.

He could put off his journey south no longer.

“I’m going to be fine, Geralt,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if he’d been this petulant as a teenager. Certainly Lambert had. “I can take care of myself, and Yen will be with me.”

Geralt tapped her wooden training sword with his own, indicating that she should prepare to go again. When he was a boy he’d trained against the other foundlings, stumbling around like pups through drills and sparring matches. Ciri trained against full witchers, and only Eskel ever faked a misstep here or there to allow her to get in a good hit. When she won a fight for the first time, it would be on her own merit.

The girl raised her sword into a decent fighting stance, and Geralt moved to correct her footwork. Her sword work was exceptional above the belt, but she consistently forgot her stances, throwing herself off balance. They’d begun putting her on the pendulums to force her to focus, dancing between posts to attack the dummies. Geralt had spent many a night rubbing salve into her bruised shoulders, gained from taking fall after fall from the low poles. No one forced her, but if there was one thing Ciri hated, it was admitting to weakness in herself. “Sword up,” Geralt said, and launched into his attack.

He stayed on the offense, forcing her to practice the defensive drills they’d started going over recently. “I know you’ll be fine,” he said, continuing their conversation. His breathing was relaxed, almost meditative through the slow exchange of blows. “Just seems cruel to leave you with only the old man and Yennefer for company.”

Ciri giggled despite herself, and Geralt found himself grinning back before he smacked her lightly in the ribs with the training sword. She swore—Lambert, Geralt thought with chagrin—and danced back a few paces. “Gotta focus,” he said, still smirking at her.

She poked her tongue out at him childishly and reposted off of one of his blocked attacks. He easily swayed out of the way, but the movement was fluid and smooth, which meant someday it would be fast, faster than he could dodge. He gave an encouraging nod.

They continued to spar for another half an hour or so before breaking, heading to the well to fill their water pouches. Geralt sat on the short ring of stones and Ciri slumped on the ground beside him, leaning against his leg. The simple trust and familiarity she exhibited around him still took him by surprise, sometimes. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of her head. Her hair was almost as white as his.

She sighed, wiping dripping water from her chin as she tossed her water pouch down. “I figured,” she said. “Say hello to Jaskier for me, when you find him? I missed his songs this time.”

Geralt’s caress turned into a playful ruffle. “I will. Any requests for books?”

“Ones about Elves,” she said immediately, “and Skelligan alchemy. It’s different from ours, did you know? The Druids—”

Geralt chuckled. “I know. You’ve said half a dozen times. No fairytales this time?”

The girl hummed, reminding him for a brief and touching moment of himself. “Just bring Jaskier back. He tells about your adventures so much better than you do.”

“He’s certainly made a career out of it,” Geralt grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’ll do my best. You know how he is.”

“You missed him too,” she said, hitting his knee with one closed fist. “I know you did. You get all…Well, more grumbly and mopey than usual, when he’s not around.” She wrinkled her nose up at him in exaggerated disgust. “It’s gross. But I do want you to be happy.”

Geralt knocked back against her gently with his knee, swallowing around the feelings that rose in his throat. “You just think I’m a boring old man who won’t help you put toads in Eskel’s bed. But you never even ask. I’m the expert, not Jaskier.”

Ciri laughed, bright and crisp in the morning air, and Geralt felt warm despite the fading winter chill. Tomorrow he would leave, and he would find Jaskier, and next winter he would tell Jaskier that he had to stay at Kaer Morhen. For Ciri, if nothing else. And if it was more for Geralt’s sake than anything, well, no one had to know.

*

Yennefer found him before he left, saddling Roach in the stables.

“Go to Triss,” she said by way of a greeting. Geralt knew what she meant by the gravity in her tone and the tension sitting in the corners of her mouth. “Ask after Ida. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll speak with you, but a Sage is the only one that might be able to give you anything.”

Geralt reached out to grasp her hand firmly in his own. “Thank you, Yen,” he said honestly.

The sorceress sniffed. “Well, you owe me one, I suppose. I hope you find what you're looking for. But be careful.”

“I won’t do anything that might put him in harm’s way,” he promised. “I swear it.”

“Good.” She gave him a slight smile before leaning in to brush a kiss over his rough cheek. The simple touch warmed him from inside out. “Say hello to the bard for me. Tell him I heard about that disastrous competition in Vizima. Ought to have him stewing for a good long while.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him your love as always.”

“Goodbye, Geralt,” she said, patting his arm lightly. “Be safe. You know how to reach me, if you have need.”

“I do,” he said. “I will. Take care of Ciri.”

“It’s more the other way around, I’m afraid,” she said with a soft smile, and Geralt understood exactly what she meant. Ciri had saved them both, in more ways than one. Every time he left her was more painful than the last. Someday, he knew, they might travel the Path together, a witcher, a sorceress and their daughter. Maybe even a bard, if he was extremely lucky.

Geralt hoped he would be.

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

[blzzrdstryr]

A silent plea

Yandere!Kujou Sara x gn!reader

Wordcount:1366

CW:Yandere themes, death and torture mention

Kujou Sara knows her place. It’s always beneath and at Raiden Shogun’s beck and call. Some may think it's humiliating, to dedicate so much time and energy for the tyrant, yet Sara disagrees - Baal may be a cruel goddess, but she is a goddess nonetheless, meant to be praised and obeyed and Sara is nothing but a devoted worshipper, willing to commit any atrocity if it will please her archon.

She doesn't indulge in it, preferring to endure the cruelty of her own hands and telling herself that it is needed for Baal's eternity. All who resist and defy have deserved their fates, no matter how grim and bitter they are. How many rebels did she strike herself? Electro archon’s heart holds no mercy nor pity for her enemies, so Sara’s shouldn’t either. And it did, for a time, allowing Kujou Sara to fight and torture and interrogate, all in the name of her Goddess, until she met you.

It happened on the battlefield. Sara was aiming at someone, all her attention consumed by the distant figure and the tension of the bow in her hands as she heard a rustle of the leaves and then sensed a blade pressing down her jugular.

“Order your men to retreat”, you demanded, adding a bit more pressure. She couldn’t see it but felt a small trail of blood trickling down her neck and staining the clothes. It was an awful and dangerous situation to be in and for the first time in months she experienced fear so clearly and brightly.

“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, she kicked you, focusing the electro energy around her body. It was enough to give her time and protect Sara from your weapon, leaving just a shallow cut on her neck.

You gasped then, from pain and shock, eyes wide as you grasped the injured hand, and dropped the weapon. And then it was Sara’s turn to get surprised - you didn’t flee and she couldn’t see your vision. Were you that stupid or desperate? Did you really think that you could defeat her in a fair fight?

Sara took a stance, preparing for a quick victory, which it wasn’t. She had to claw it out, deflecting your blows and kicks - you were like a wild animal back then, feral and forceful, seemingly just a step away from lunging at Sara and biting a chunk of her flesh out. But unlike the beast, you were smart and tricky too, throwing small metal trinkets to redirect her lightning, leaping at her only when you were sure she wouldn't attack. If it wasn’t for her approaching men who knows for how long you would drag out this battle, using lowly tricks and stunts to make up for your obvious disadvantage.

You fled then, pulling out a smoke bomb to create a distraction, and something inside her changed. At first Sara thought it was respect, keeping her up at night and making her return to the place of your “fight”, replaying your moves in her memory again and again. Respect for your resourcefulness and loyalty to your cause, despite the opposite allegiance.

Nevertheless, the dreams, wet and messy and too dishonourable to be said out loud, made her change her perspective - she didn’t respect you, no, she wanted to be at your mercy again, to feel herself helpless and powerless as your figure looms over her vulnerable form.

Those were sick perverted fantasies, not to mention traitorous too. As the loyal servant of Raiden Shogun she couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to the animal urges and sinful lust. Who knows, what if her arrow falters and blade dulls because of the same craving and shameful desire? How can she allow herself to live further after such failure?

That’s why her efforts in capturing and neutralizing rebel camps doubled, despite the slowly rising wave of hesitation inside her.

The early morning greets Kujou Sara with the cold breeze of grey waves and the news she has both dreaded and anticipated. Her men finally located and captured the small insurgent group, hiding among the lush forests of Kannazuka, roughly dragging the rebels back to the Kujou encampment.

“Bring them here”, Sara says to one of the troops after she exits her apartment, her battle regalia already on. The soldier bows and quickly hurries to the furthermost nondescript building - a makeshift cell for all prisoners before they’re sent to the capital.

Sara trails his figure, feeling how her own heart thumps, head aching from the sudden tension and anxiety and she doesn’t know whether she wants to see your face or not. “A moment of truth”, she whispers to herself as one painfully long second is replaced by the other.

Turns out, you are in that group too, as the mentioned soldier leads you out with the other prisoners, your hands tightly cuffed by a long chain. Kujou squints as she looks over all of you, your frame being her main focus. You are tired and dirty, she notes, but also defiant and full of fight, just like that fateful day.

Sara orders her men to lead you to the interrogation room, and put the rest in the cells, she accompanies the soldier, eyeing your form as he tugs on your chains - you don't want to go, it's obvious, but in the end fatigue and simple weakness win and your legs buckle.

You have new bruises, she notes, purple-bluish they stand out in a stark angry contrast against your skin. Maybe her men got handsy, maybe they weren’t careful with transporting you enough - no matter the reason she needs to punish them.

“Out”, Sara says, once you’re tied and secured in one place, defiant eyes burning right through her. The soldier quickly bows before exiting the room and leaving Sara with you alone, and that’s when she feels it again - the wave of longing and carnal desire so strong that she yearns to touch your body no matter how dirty and battered it is.

“Why am I here?”, you ask, voice low and scratchy after days of complete silence, snatching Sara from her thoughts, and by the archons the sound of your voice is enough to awaken something in her, pink dusting her cheeks.

"You don't have a vision", she says instead of answering you, feeling how her heart speeds up from those words alone:"but you still defied Raiden Shogun's eternity and you will be punished accordingly"

A crooked smile makes it to your face, resignation mixing with pure hatred boiling in your eyes. Sara wants to shiver and turn away, hide from your gaze, yet she endures it, not a single muscle betraying her.

"You will be tortured regardless of you knowing anything about resistance plans", you don’t stop smiling, yet your expression grows even more tense. Like a deadman, Sara thinks to herself - she had seen it of course, the face, the resignation, and she doesn’t like it. The mere idea of you suffering and screaming under someone else's hands enough to make her taste a sour bile on her tongue.

"Then why are you telling me all of this?", you raise one brow.

"There’s a way to avoid that. Aid me in my service to Raiden Shogun and your crimes will be forgiven". Sara leans closer to you, her golden eyes transfixed on your face. "Please agree", she wants to say: "It's for your own good".

“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, you spit back at her and she jerks away, remembering your bestial nature. If only you were more obedient Sara would worship you like a second deity, her love and devotion to you surpassed only by the reverence she holds towards Baal. She would dress you in silks and kiss every spot on your body, ripping out the most pleasurable and desperate moans out of your lips. She would fall on the knees before you, patiently awaiting your command.

But she can’t - deep down you’re an animal, feral and ungrateful and rabid beasts deserve nothing but death.

“I will come back tomorrow and ask you again. I suggest you take back your words”.

Kujou Sara knows her place. She wishes you knew yours.

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - The Saints Of Freedom

(Gif not mine)

A/n: So this just came up into my head... There's going to be so much Shadow and bone content I'm just saying in advance - I'm so sorry! Also Matthias is alive!

Warnings: Sexual abuse, abuse, harassment, angst, fluff, terrible men, death, blood, language I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Some man from the Crow Club wants a good time with you

I take a sip of my water, sighing. Inej and Kaz are in the corner talking to each other, like they never broke up. Wylan and Jesper are in a couple seats over from me joking with each other like their lives depend on it. And Nina and Matthias are in a both in back, Nina trying to get Matthias to kiss her while he's trying to be decent. Apparently.

Why did I have to fall for the Bastard of the Barrel?

I shift around on my bar stool a bit so I can listen in on a conversation.

"Let's play a round of strip poker boys!" I flinch, nope not happening.

I guess I never really fell in love with Kaz, I drowned for him. Him and all his terrible ways and his broken mindset, I drown in that. I yearn for that death in an ocean of Kaz Brekker. Wanting that kills me, slowly although.

"James! Go get some Chicks!" I stiffen up and start to get out of my seat. I gracefully like a snake avoid anyone in the crowd slipping into the darkness acting as just another man looking for it's prey.

That way you go unnoticed.

A hand grabs me and forcefully drags me away from the entrance. Damn it, I was so close. I am harshly turned towards the person who dragged me away from my freedom. A shiver runs up my spine as a man with yellow teeth grins down on me. His left hand goes up and down my arm, while his right has a bruising grip on me.

"Your gonna come play some poker with us aren't you little- Umm let me think." The man pretends to think for a second

"Ah! Your a fawn!"

I freeze.

That's what my father called me when he use to rap-

Don't think about that you need to try and make up a plan to get out of here!

I realize that I'm dragged all the way to the back where a table is, too late.

"Come on girly, we want some." The monster says.

"Now." He growls.

I shake my head trying to get the thoughts out of my head from my home life. I can't kill them because their good pigeons to the Crow Club. But I can injury them if necessary.

"Your not even going to tell your name?" I look up to the man who dragged me over here, knowing that he's going to get me and will be the only one to get me. He got his prey now the others get to watch.

"It's James pretty girl, and take your pants and panties off now, if I win you'll get to keep em." The men around the table chuckle in delight knowing what will happen - he will try to loose.

"And if you don't?" I cheer myself on internally for not loosing it and keeping my voice strong. Stall, it's the best thing you get do.

"We really start playing poker than."

Lies. I hiss in my head, once my pussy is out he will do what ever he wants with me.

I place a hand on his arm, stall Y/n, stall.

"When does the game end?" I lean in and whisper into his ear like I'm trying to seduce him. Bile rise's up from my throat but I shallow it back down but then I realize it makes me seem like I'm nervous. Shit. He seems to have picked up on that though and he likes it. It means he has control.

His hand goes to my thigh.

"As long as I want." He pulls me onto to him and I struggle out of his grip. Five other men come and hold me down on the table. I attempt to wrestle them all and I almost get out, but two other monsters come up and hold me down.

"Let's give them a show boys!"

Tears gather up in my eyes.

"Monsters." I hiss at the men. One with blond hair punches my arm with the bed of his fist and a small scream is with drawled from my throat as I hear it... Crack! Fuck, it's definitely broken.

"You can't break a girl that's already been broken, you'll only get cut." I rasp my voice quiet but very, very angry.

"You litt-" He gets cut off from the other man who brought me to this torture.

"Gather round! People, gather round! Let's see what we can do to this pretty little fawn here?" The man - James says as he places a hand on my stomach. Mostly horrid men gather around the table but the odd woman is here too, probably the dumb ones. As soon as the predator got it's prey you run.

So your not it's next meal.

Struggling to try and get out of the men's grip on me, but it's hopeless. They have two on each limb of my body holding me down.

"Come on little fawn, it's time to play." The man whispers into my ear.

Memories flood into my sense's of my father. Doing terrible, terrible things to me. Marking me. Tainting me, as I learned not to scream anymore so mother wouldn't beat the crap out of me because if he couldn't get me - he got her.

The barbaric beast crawls onto me surely leaving bruise's and his hand goes to lift up my shirt and-

BANG! He's on the floor bloodied from where something hit his face. Hard.

The other men don't try and stop whoever hit the other vile man to the floor. I almost don't open my eyes to see who might be my savoir in fear that they just might want some.

I open my eyes.

Kaz! I think and I nearly sigh in relief.

"Let her go." Kaz says dangerously low and calm and the men practically drop me on the table.

Kaz's cane is still on the table as I sit up. Hi cane is pointed towards the men in question and at this point the other man starts to get up. Kaz nods to Jesper and Inej and she smiles a bit, always a pleasure to hurt some nasty men. Matthias seems to be guarding to doorway so now one can get out and Nina seems to go help Inej and Jesper as Wylan goes help Matthias with the door. Demo at the entrance, nice.

Kaz holds out a gloved hand, I take it and stand up next to him and at the angle we're at I'm pressed up against him.

"Come on little fawn." My father opens the door to my room slowly with a sadistic smile on his face.

"But fath-"

He lifts me up by hair and the cry of pain that would come from a normal child did not come, for they had not been train to be solider at seven.

"We don't call me that when it's play time. You know that." He growls as his hands start pulling off my shirt.

"Yes master." He takes my shirt off and h-

"Y/n." I voice says and I open my eyes and they lock onto some dark brown eyes. "Would you like to do the honours?" A voice rasps. I realize that Kaz is referring to the seven men lined up, held up my Nina, Inej, and Jesper and with some help from Wylan who has a grenade out to scare them.

I feel myself fade away like a I'm ghost.

Come on Y/n, be a good little fawn.

No. I think and push the memories back.

I go to the first three and I simply cut their throats with my double sided daggers. A man laughs and I swiftly turn. I then stab one in the stomach, the one who laughed while I killed the others. He howls in pain, I then simply kill him and the others till it's just the last one left. The monster. The one who dragged me away like a sack of kruge. Like I was a prize for him.

A ballistic smile creeps up on his face like he was paper and someone was drawing my nightmares.

It's my brother.

My brother who has the same smile as my dad, the brother who made fun of me at school, the brother who helped mom and beat me on his own accords as well. The brother who toke after our father in every way.

"You won't kill me." James smiles.

"You won't kill me." My brother says as I pull out a knife with serpent around it's handle.

"You still love me, I'm your brother." I drop the knife and he see's it as his chance and strikes.

The knives shake in my hands but I put them away.

"See." He chuckles like he knew what would happen. Imbecile.

"Your doing it wrong." Kaz limps up to me, the familiar pace of his cane hitting the floor. "You need to have a reason."

"I thought you didn't need one?" I sigh in disappointment of doing it the wrong way. Again. Kaz stares at me for a couple of seconds then shakes his head slightly like he's trying to clear his mind.

"No. You need a reason behind why we're here."

My brows frown in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Limping closer to me he places a hand on my shoulder.

"Why are you here?"

He walks back a bit giving me space to do my work. I suck in a deep breath, why am I here?

I release my weapon, an extension of myself and it doesn't hit the traget.

A man hits the ground with a thud, the man who tried to get a night with me yesterday is dead right on the ground. The blade embedded inside his chest and the snake sticking out.

Checkmate.

Kaz flash's me a smile but I barley catch it and it's gone in a blink.

"Good, not what do you want to be called?"

"Serpent." I whisper as I look up into his eyes.

"The Serpent."

I take out my knife with a snake around it's hilt always looking like it's moving and ready to strike.

Why are you here.

I close my eyes and it's done in a flash.

His ankles and hands are severed off and they drop to the floor like their separate bodies.

I lean in and whisper into his ear.

"The Serpent as struck and it seems." I grin a little.

"She has not granted you the mercy of death."

I lean in closer so only he can hear as he howls out in pain.

"Eight years." I breath. I come back up and turn swiftly out of the Crow Club shoving past Matthias who looks to be horrified but I don't know beause he did survive hellgate.

I stumble into an alleyway and I grip onto the brick wall.

The wolf is no more.

Streaming down my face tears flood my vision as I weep for all the pain, for all the years of torture finally the last one of them is dead.

Thump. Thump.

I hear the rhythmic of the crow cane but it seems to stop.

I lift my head up.

Kaz.

"Breath Y/n." I gasp in a breath and I stumble forward into his arms. I tense up and-

"Come on sister time to be a..."

"I'm not him." He whispers and it pulls me back into reality like an anchor.

He goes to try and touch my face but he stops midway and takes his gloves off. He touches his ungloved hand to my face and I can feel myself losing him to the past.

Think, Y/n! Think! He helped you, he saved you from everything! From your retched family, from the men today! He made it so you could defend yourself! He-

"Sankta Kaz." I blurt.

His eyes snap open and goes to back away.

"No, no, no! You can't possibly think of me as a saint!"

Normally I would be discomposed and would already be running out from embarrassment but a weird calmness wash's over me and a strange sort of serenity makes me want to go swimming.

"You may not be a saint to them." I point out behind him even though there's no people.

"But to me..." I pause trying to find the right words.

"You are my savoir. You saved me from my family." I walk up to him. "You killed my father and mother." I keep on walking closer. "You saved me from myself, you saved me today, and..." I trail off realizing how close we are.

I look into those dark eyes and I barely breath out,

"You gave me freedom."

I hesitantly warp my arms around him and he stiffens up but he relax's in my embrace. Our face's get closer and closer then-

"Why are you here?" It's the question he asked when I first learned how to throw a knife: What do you want?

"I am here because..." I trail off trying to find the words.

"I am here because of the kids." A new found confidence builds up in my chest.

"I am here to help the children safe from their abusive homes. I will help the children of Ketterdam." A fire of passion ignites in me making me bold.

"Will you help me?" The words hang in the air and Kaz looks into my eyes with a calculating gaze.

"I run a gang Y/n." I go to look away my face burning with embarrassment.

"But..." He takes my face into his hands.

"This Bastard can do both I guess." I grin in happiness and our faces finally get closer and we kiss.

Lightning crash's through me but I think of Kaz and our friends. Our lips shift together and I realize now that...

I'm drowning.

I'm drowning in Kaz, I'm absolutely deep into the ocean, falling but never rising. I just keep on going deeper and deeper till I pull away.

We pull away and I feel like a wave just crashed into me Kaz smiled and I whisper;

"Sankta Kaz."

Sankta Kaz the saint of greed. Sankta Y/n the saint of suffering. Together they are the saints of freedom.

Words 2383

-thedelusionreaderbitch

All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix and you! I just own the plot!

[cielrouge]

YA SFF Books by Asian Authors

Ash by Malinda Lo: In this variation on the Cinderella story, Ash grows up believing in the fairy realm that the king and his philosophers have sought to suppress, until one day she must choose between a handsome fairy cursed to love her and the King’s Huntress whom she loves.

Along the Indigo by Elsie Chapman: Marsden yearns to take her sister and escape Glory, a town famous for seedy businesses, but her friendship with Jude yields secrets that may chain them to the Indigo River forever.

Alpha Goddess by Amalie Howard:  In this sci-fi retelling of Ramayana, Sera is a Hindu goddess incarnate and must battle between her good and evil sides in order to save the world from becoming hell on earth.

Angelfall (Penryn & the End of Days #1) by Susan Ee: It's been six weeks since angels of the apocalypse descended to demolish the modern world. When warrior angels fly away with a helpless little girl, her 17-year-old sister Penryn will do anything to get her back. Anything, including making a deal with an enemy angel, Raffe. 

The Archer at Dawn (The Tiger at Midnight #2) by Swati Teerdhala: Set in an Indian & Hindu-inspired world, long-held secrets will force Kunal and Esha to reconsider their loyalties—to their country and to each other.

The Athena Protocol by Shamim Sarif: After being fired from the Athena Protocol, an organization of female spies who enact vigilante justice, Jessie Archer investigates a human trafficking case in Belgrade, while her former teammates have been tasked with bringing her down.

Blood of a Thousand Stars (Empress of a Thousand Skies #2) by Rhoda Belleza: Rhee risks her crown to negotiate peace terms with villainous media star Nero, while framed assassin Aly plots revenge and Kara seeks technology that will erase her royal past.

The Bone Witch by Rin Chupeco: Tea’s gift for death magic means that she is a bone witch, a title that makes her feared and ostracized by her community, but when an older bone witch trains her to become an asha - one who can wield elemental magic - Tea will have to overcome her obstacles and make a powerful choice in the face of danger as dark forces approach.

The Bronzed Beasts (The Gilded Wolves #3) by Roshani Chokshi: With only ten days until Laila expires, the crew will face plague pits and deadly masquerades, unearthly songs, and the shining steps of a temple whose powers might offer divinity itself, but at a price they may not be willing to pay.

The Beast Player by Nahoko Uehashi: An epic YA fantasy about a girl with a special power to communicate with magical beasts and the warring kingdom only she can save.

The Beautiful by Renee Ahdieh: In 19th century New Orleans where vampires hide in plain sight, half-Asian Celine Rosseau, a dressmaker from Paris, becomes embroiled in a murder mystery, connected to the glamorous supernatural cohort, known as the Court of Lions, and catching the eye of their mysterious, charismatic leader, Sèbastien Saint Germain.

Broken Web (Shamanborn #2) by Lori M. Lee: With Queen Meilyr bent on destroying the magical kingdoms, Sirscha becomes caught between a war in the east and the Soulless in the west.

The Candle and the Flame by Nafiza Azad: Set in the city of Noor, along the Silk Road which has become a refuge for those of all faiths, Fatima becomes embroiled in a war between two clans of powerful djinn who threaten to destroy her peace in different ways, forcing her to make unlikely alliances to survive.

Caster by Elsie Chapman: In this Chinese-inspired, magical Fight Club, Earth is already at the brink of environmental disaster due to the magic overuse. And 16-year-old spell caster Aza Wu must navigate through an illegal, underground battle magic tournament, while evading local gangs and police scouts to save her family from ruin.

Catalyst by Lydia Kang: Zelia Benten has lost her father, the love of her life, and any future she might have imagined for herself. Now she, her sister, and the band of illegal genetic outcasts they’ve come to call their family are forced to run when the safety of their foster home is compromised.

A Clash of Steel (A Treasure Island Remix) by C.B. Lee: Set in 1820s China, Xiah joins Anh and her motley crew in pursuit of the hidden treasure of the legendary Dragon Fleet.

Chainbreaker (Timekeeper #2) by Tara Sim: In 1876, someone is destroying the clock towers that control India’s time. Teenage mechanics Danny Hart and half-white, half-Indian Daphne Richards as they travel to Agra to investigate a series of clock tower bombings.

The Chariot at Dusk (Tiger at Midnight #3) by Swati Teerdhala: In the final book of this epic fantasy trilogy, the lands’ fate, their people’s livelihoods, and the bond that sustains their world all depend on what Kunal and Esha can offer—to the gods and to each other.

Champion (Legend #3) by Marie Lu: June and Day have sacrificed so much for the people of the Republic--and each other--and now their country is on the brink of a new existence. Just when a peace treaty is imminent, a plague outbreak causes panic in the Colonies, and war threatens the Republic's border cities.

Circle of Shadows by Evelyn Skye: Love, spies, and adventure abound as apprentice warriors Sora and Daemon unravel a complex web of magic and secrets that might tear them—and the entire kingdom—apart forever.

Control by Lydia Kang: In 2150, when genetic manipulation has been outlawed, seventeen-year-old Zelia must rescue her kidnapped sister with the help of a band of outcasts with mutated genes.

Court of Lions (Mirage #2) by Somaiya Daud: After being swept up into the brutal Vathek court, Amani, the ordinary girl forced to serve as the half-Vathek princess Maram’s body double, is desperate to continue helping the rebellion But can she bear to remain separated, forever, from Maram's fiancé, Idris? 

Cross Fire (Exo #2) by Fonda Lee: When the peaceful alien-run government withdraws from Earth, it seems that the terrorist group Sapience is going to get the "free" Earth it wanted; but Donovan Reyes, member of the security forces, and once a prisoner of Sapience, realizes that freedom comes with a price. 

The Crown’s Game by Evelyn Skye: Vika Andreyeva can summon the snow and turn ash into gold. Nikolai Karimov can see through walls and conjure bridges out of thin air. They are enchanters—the only two in Russia. The Tsar needs a powerful enchanter by his side.And so he initiates the Crown’s Game, an ancient duel of magical skill—the victor becomes the Imperial Enchanter and the Tsar’s most respected adviser. The defeated is sentenced to death. 

The Crown’s Fate (The Crown’s Game #2) by Evelyn Skye: Vika struggles with dangers in her new role as the Imperial Enchanter while Pasha faces disputes about his legitimacy and Nikolai considers how far he is willing to go to return to the world.

A Crown of Wishes (Star-Touched Queen #2) by Roshani Chokshi:  Gauri, princess of Bharata, has been captured by her kingdom's enemies and faces a future of exile and scorn--she has nothing left to lose. But Vikram, the notoriously cunning prince of a neighboring land, promises her freedom in exchange for her partnership on his team to win the Tournament of Wishes.

The Damned (The Beautiful #2) by Renée Ahdieh: Sébastien Saint Germain is now cursed and forever changed. The price of loving Celine Rousseau was costly. But as Bastien and Celine begin to uncover the danger around them, they learn their love could tear them apart.

Dark Goddess (Alpha Goddess #2) by Amalie Howard:  In this Indian-inspired fantasy, a girl who is the avatar of the goddess Lakshmi must work to prevent the apocalypse at the hands of demons. 

Dark Goddess (Templar Chronicles #2) by Sarwat Chadda: Billi SanGreal, a teenaged member of the Knights Templar, must prevent a young girl, who is being hunted by werewolves because of the dangerous powers she possesses, from falling into the hands of the ancient Russian witch, Baba Yaga.

Daughter of Dusk (Midnight Thief #2) by Livia Blackburne: After learning the truth about her bloodlines, Kyra can’t help but feel like a monster. As tensions rise within Forge’s Council, and a vicious Demon Rider attacks continue in surrounding villages, Kyra knows she must do something to save her city. 

Descendant of the Crane by Joan He: In this Chinese-inspired fantasy, Princess Hesina of Yan is thrust into power when her beloved father is murdered, and she’s determined to find his killer–whatever the cost.

The Devil’s Kiss (Templar Chronicles #1) by Sarwat Chadda: 15-year-old Billi SanGreal has grown up knowing that being a member of the Knights Templar puts her in danger, but if she is to save London from catastrophe she must make sacrifices greater than she imagined.

The Devil’s Thief (The Last Magician #2) by Lisa Maxwell: Esta and Harte set off on a cross-country chase through time to steal back the elemental stones they need to save the future of magic.

Divided (Dualed #2) by Elsie Chapman:  When the Board goes after West Grayer for refusing to kill her next target, West must uncover the truth of the past to survive.

Dove Arising by Karen Bao: On a lunar colony, 15-old Phaet Theta does the unthinkable and joins the Militia when her mother is imprisoned by the Moon's oppressive government. 

Dove Exiled (Dove Chronicles #2) by Karen Bao: Phaet’s past catches up with her when the Lunar Bases attack the community and reveal that Phaet is a fugitive. She’s torn between staying on Earth with Wes—whom she’s just discovered her feelings for—and stowing away on a Moon-bound ship to rescue her siblings.

Dove Alight (Dove Chronicles #3) by Karen Bao: Shy, introverted Phaet Theta has gone from being a top student to an interplanetary fugitive to the reluctant but fierce leader of a revolution. But as the death tolls rise, the cost of the war weighs heavily on Phaet. Phaet started this war because she lost someone she loved. Will she have to lose another to end it?

Eclipse the Stars by Maura Milan: Criminal mastermind and unrivaled pilot Ia Ccha and her allies make unpredictable choices as they fight to keep darkness from eclipsing the skies.

An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir: Set in a terrifyingly brutal Rome-like world, An Ember in the Ashes is an epic fantasy debut about an orphan, Laia, fighting for her family and a soldier, Elias, fighting for his freedom.

Empress of All Seasons by Emiko Jean: During a once-in-a-generation competition to find the new empress, Mari, who hides a terrible secret, Taro, the prince who would denounce the imperial throne, and Akira, a half-human outcast, will decide the fate of Honoku.

Empress of a Thousand Skies by Rhoda Belleza: Two sisters, Rhee and Kara—sole survivors of a murdered royal lineage - must reunite from opposite ends of the galaxy to salvage what’s left of their family dynasty and save the universe from a greater threat.

End of Days (Penryn & The End of Days #3) by Susan Ee: After a daring escape, Penryn and Raffe are on the run, but a startling revelation about Raffe’s past unleashes dark forces that threaten them all. When the angels release an apocalyptic nightmare onto humans, both sides are set on a path toward war. Forced to pick sides in the fight for control of the earthly realm, Raffe and Penryn must choose: Their own kind, or each other?

The Epic Crush of Genie Lo by F.C. Yee: 15-year-old Genie Lo wonders if she’s qualified enough to gain admission to an Ivy League school, then becomes powerful enough to break through the gates of Heaven with her fists.

The Eternity Cure (Blood of Eden #2) by Julie Kagawa: Cast out of Eden and separated from the boy she dared to love, Allison Sekemoto will follow the call of blood to save her creator, Kanin, from the psychotic vampire Sarren. But when the trail leads to Allie's birthplace in New Covington, what Allie finds there will change the world forever--and possibly end human and vampire existence.

The Ever Cruel Kingdom (The Never Tilting World #2) by Rin Chupeco: To break the cycle of sacrifice, twins Haidee and Odessa need answers that lie beyond the seven gates of the underworld, within the Cruel Kingdom itself. The shadows of the underworld may hunger to tear them apart, but these two sisters are determined to heal their world—together.

Exo by Fonda Lee: For a century now, Earth has been a peaceful colony of an alien race, and Donovan Reyes is a loyal member of the security forces, while his father is the Prime Liaison–but when a routine search and seizure goes bad Donovan finds himself a captive of the human revolutionary group, Sapience, terrorists who seem to prefer war to alien rule, and killing Donovan just might be the incident they are looking for.

Fair Coin by E.C. Myers: When evil versions of himself and best friend Nate appear one day, teenaged Ephraim embarks on a dangerous odyssey through parallel worlds to make things right.

Firestarter (Timekeeper #3) by Tara Sim: Colton, Daphne, and the others must choose between those striving to take down the world’s clock towers so that time can run freely, and terrorists trying to bring back the lost god of time.

Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) by Kendare Blake: In this conclusion to the Three Dark Crowns series, three dark sisters will rise to fight as the secrets of Fennbirn’s history are laid bare. Allegiances will shift. Bonds will be tested, and some broken forever.

Flame in the Mist by Renee Adhieh: The daughter of a prominent samurai, Mariko is promised to Minamoto Raiden. But en route to the imperial city of Inako, Mariko narrowly escapes a bloody ambush by the Black Clan. Dressed as a peasant boy, Mariko sets out to infiltrate the ranks of this gang. But she’s quickly captured and taken to the Black Clan’s secret hideout, where she meets their leader, the rebel ronin Takeda Ranmaru. 

For A Muse of Fire by Heidi Heilig: 16-year-old shadow puppeteer Jetta Chantray performs with her family’s traveling troupe, the Ros Nai. But as rebellion seethes and as Jetta meets a young smuggler, she will face truths and decisions that she never imagined—and safety will never seem so far away.

Forest of Souls by Lori M. Lee: Sirscha Ashwyn, while training to become the queen’s next royal spy, discovers she’s a rare and powerful lightwender and is summoned to the realm of the Spider King, where her newly awakened abilities are needed to cull the bloodthirsty Dead Wood.

Forest of a Thousand Lanterns by Julie C. Dao: A reimagining of the evil queen from Snow White based on Asian mythology in which 18-year-old Xifeng must unleash a jealous god on the world and set free the viciousness of her own soul in order to become Empress.

The Forever Song (Blood of Eden #3) by Julie Kagawa: Allie will embrace her cold vampire side to hunt down and end Sarren. But Sarren has left many surprises for Allie and her companions as his trail leads straight to the one place they must protect at any cost -- the last vampire-free zone on Earth.

Fury of the Phoenix (Kingdom of Xia #2) by Cindy Pon: When Ai Ling leaves her home and family to accompany Chen Yong on his quest to find his father, haunted by the ancient evil she thought she had banished to the underworld, she must use her growing supernatural powers to save Chen Yong from the curses that follow her.

Gates of Thread and Stone by Lori M. Lee: A teenage girl must keep her ability to manipulate the threads of time a secret, but when her brother goes missing, she risks getting caught up in a revolution in order to save him.

Gearbreakers by Zoe Hana Mikuta: Eris Shindanai and Sona Steelcrest, two girls on opposite sides of a war fought with Windups, giant mechanizes weapons, discover they’re fighting for a common purpose–and falling for each other.

The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi: Paris, 1889: Treasure-hunter and wealthy hotelier, Séverin Montagnet-Alarie gets the chance of a lifetime when the all-powerful society, the Order of Babel, seeks him out for help in exchange for a priceless treasure: his true inheritance.

The Girl From Everywhere by Heidi Heilig: From modern-day New York City to nineteenth-century Hawaii to places of myth and legend, 16-year-old Nix has sailed across the globe and through centuries aboard her time-traveling father’s ship. But when he gambles with her very existence, it all may be about to end.

The Girl From the Well by Rin Chupeco: Okiku has wandered the world for centuries, but when she meets Tark she knows the moody teen with the series of intricate tattoos is not a monster and needs to be freed from the demonic malevolence that clings to him.

The Girl King by Mimi Yu: Sisters Lu and Min become unwitting rivals in a war to claim the title of Emperor.

Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust: As the day of her twin brother’s wedding approaches, Princess Soraya must decide if she’s willing to step outside of the shadows for the first time.

Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan: When Lei, seventeen, is stolen from her home to become one of nine Paper Girls, the Demon King's concubines, she proves to be more fire than paper.

Girls of Storm and Shadow (Girls of Paper and Fire #2) by Natasha Ngan: After escaping the Hidden Palace, Lei and her warrior love Wren must travel the kingdom to gain support from the far-flung rebel clans.

Girls of Fate and Fury (Girls of Paper and Fire #3) by Natasha Ngan: The last Lei saw of the girl she loved, Wren, was fighting an army of soldiers in a furious battle to the death. With the two girls torn apart and each in terrorizing peril, will they find each other again or have their destinies diverged forever.

The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh: A feminist retelling of the Korean folktale The Tale of Shim Cheong, set in a town where every year a girl is sacrificed to the sea to stop torrential rains, but when a brave teen girl dives in herself to protect a loved one, she discovers a spirit kingdom in need of saving.

The Great Destroyers by Caroline Tung Richmond: set in alt-history, 1960s America where WWI & WII were fought with giant mechs, biracial Chinese American teen Jo Linden is Team USA’s most unlikely pick in the annual Pax Games, an Olympic-style competition that pits mecha pilots against each other.

The Heartforger (Bone Witch #2) by Rin Chupeco: With a thirst for vengeance, a band of terrifying daeva at her command, and her resurrected lover Kalen by her side, dark asha Tea is ready to face her adversaries.

A House of Rage and Sorrow (Celestial Trilogy #2) by Sangu Mandanna: As gods, beasts, and kingdoms choose sides, Alexi seeks out a weapon more devastating than even Titania. The House of Rey is at war. And the entire galaxy will bleed before the end.

Huntress by Malinda Lo: 17-year-olds Kaede and Taisin are called to go on a dangerous and unprecedented journey to Tanlili, the city of the Fairy Queen, in an effort to restore the balance of nature in the human world.

Ignite the Stars by Maura Milan: When outlaw Ia Ccha is captured by the Olympus Commonwealth and revealed to be a 16-year-old girl, they force her to serve them by joining the Commonwealth's military academy where new acquaintances cause Ia to question her own alliances.

The Immortal Rules (Blood of Eden #1) by Julie Kagawa: Allison Sekemoto survives in the Fringe, the outermost circle of a vampire city, until she too becomes an immortal vampire. Forced to flee into the unknown, outside her city walls, she joins a ragged band of humans who are seeking a legend -- a possible cure to the disease that killed off most of humankind and created the rabids, the mindless creatures who threaten humans and vampires alike.

Inferno (Talon #5) by Julie Kagawa: Ember Hill has learned a shocking truth about herself: she is the blood of the Elder Wyrm, the ancient dragon who leads Talon and who is on the verge of world domination. With the stakes rising and the Elder Wyrm declaring war, time is running out for the rogues and any dragon not allied with Talon. The final battle approaches. And if Talon is victorious, the world will burn.

The Infinity Courts by Akemi Dawn Bowman: Japanese American teen Nami Miyamoto finds herself in a limitless world where the human consciousness goes after death, where she battles an AI entity posing as a queen that has hacked its way into the afterlife.

Isle of Blood and Stone by Makiia Lucier: Mysterious maps from opposite ends of the sea cast doubt on the whereabouts of two princes, presumed dead.

Jade Fire Gold by June C.L. Tan: A debut fantasy inspired by Chinese mythology, in which peasant girl Anh, cursed with the power to steal souls enters a tenuous alliance with exiled prince Altan, bent on taking back the dragon throne, and save the empire from a cult of dangerous priests.

Journey to the Heart of the Abyss (Light in the Abyss #2) by London Shah: Leyla McQueen has finally reunited with her father after breaking him out of Broadmoor, the illegal government prison—but his freedom comes at a terrible cost. As Leyla celebrates his return, she must grapple with the pain of losing Ari. Now labeled the nation’s number one enemy, Leyla must risk illegal travel through unchartered waters for the truth behind her father’s arrest.

Hunted by the Sky by Tanaz Bhathena: Set in a world inspired by medieval India, the story tells of a girl, Gul, with a star-shaped birthmark who is prophesied to be the downfall of a tyrant king, the warrior women who come to her aid, and the boy she falls in love with.

The Keeper of the Night by Kylie Lee Baker: set in 1890s Japan, half-British reaper, half-Japanese Shinigami Ren Scarborough flees London and enters the Japanese underworld under the service of Izanami, the goddess of death.

King (Dragon King Chronicles #3) by Ellen Oh: Girl warrior, demon slayer, Tiger spirit of the Yellow Eyes - Kira is ready for her final quest! She must save her cousin, the boy fated to be the future king, uncover the third lost treasure, and face innumerable enemies in order to fulfill the famed prophecy.

A Kingdom for the Stage (For A Muse of Fire #2) by Heidi Heilig: The rebels are eager to use Le Trépas’s and necromancer Jetta’s combined magic against the invading colonists. Soon Jetta will face the choice between saving all of Chakrana or becoming like her father, and she isn’t sure which she’ll choose.

Kingdom of the Blazing Phoenix (Rise of the Empress #2) by Julie C. Dao: Princess Jade has grown up in exile while her stepmother, the ruthless Xifeng, rules Feng Lu. Ready to reclaim her place, Jade embarks on a quest to raise the Dragon Lords and defeat Xifeng and the Serpent God once and for all.

Legend by Marie Lu: In a dark future, when North America has split into two warring nations, 15-year-olds Day, a famous criminal, and prodigy June, the brilliant soldier hired to capture him, discover that they have a common enemy.

Legion (Talon #4) by Julie Kagawa: The legions are about to be unleashed, and no human, rogue dragon or former dragon slayer can stand against the coming horde in book 4 out of the Talon series.

The Library of Fates by Aditi Khorana: Amrita must unravel the mysteries of her past to save her kingdom, but in doing so, she herself might come unraveled.

The Light At the Bottom of the World by London Shah: Set in a future where the Earth is underwater, Leyla McQueen must navigate the treacherous abyss to find her missing father, but discovers a world drowning in lies.

Live in Infamy by Caroline Tung Richmond: 80 years since the Axis won World War II, and America was divided between the victors: the Nazis in the East and Imperial Japan in the West; but now resistance is growing in the Eastern territories and 16-year-old Chinese American Ren Cabot finds himself drawn into a resistance group. 

The Lost Girl by Sangu Mandanna: 15-year-old Eva is the clone of a girl living far, far away on another continent--and when this 'other' dies, Eva must step in and take over her life.

The Infinite (Gates of Thread and Stone #2) by Lori M. Lee: Kai always believed the only danger to the city came from within. Now, with a rebel force threatening the fragile government, the walls have become more of a prison than ever. To make matters worse, as Avan explores his new identity as an Infinite, Kai struggles to remind him what it means to be human. 

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao: blending Chinese history and mecha science, Wu Zetian offers herself up as a concubine-pilot to assassinate the ace male pilot responsible for her sister’s death. Features a poly F/M/M main romance.

The Iron Will of Genie Lo (Epic Crush of Genie Lo #2) by F.C. Yee: Along with a few other contenders for the throne,  heaven-appointed guardian Genie and her friends embark on a Heavenly quest to an in-between world.

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen: An intergenerational story of a mother and son struggling to relate to each other—the mother an immigrant to America who wants to make a home for her family in an unfamiliar country; the son Tiế  trying to figure out the best way to come out to his parents. Through telling each other fairy tales, they’re able to find common ground.

The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas: When her ailing father is conscripted to fight invaders from the north, Mulan dresses as a man to take his place in the army, but an old enemy and an attraction for her troop's commander complicate her mission.

The Memory Keepers by Natasha Ngan: Seven is a thief with a difference - he steals downloadable memories from banks and memoriums to sell onto London’s black market. But one night, as Seven is breaking into a private memorium in a wealthy part of London, he is caught in the act by one of its residents; Alba, the teenage daughter of London’s most famous criminal prosecutor. 

The Memory Key by Liana Liu: In the not-so-distant future, everyone is implanted with a memory key to stave off a virulent form of Alzeimer's. Lora Mint fears her memories of her deceased mother are fading, but when her memory key is damaged she has perfect recall--of everything-- which brings her mother's memory vividly back--but may also drive Lora mad. 

The Mermaid, The Witch, and The Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall: A desperate orphan turned pirate, Flora, and a rebellious imperial daughter, Lady Evelyn Hasegawa, find a connection on the high seas abroad the Dove, in a world divided by colonialism and threaded with magic.

The Midnight Star (Young Elites #3) by Marie Lu:  Adelina is forced to revisit old wounds when a new danger appears, putting not only Adelina at risk, but every Elite. In order to save herself and preserve her empire, Adelina and her Roses must join the Daggers on a perilous quest—though this uneasy alliance may prove to be the real danger.

The Midnight Thief by Livia Blackburne: Kyra, a highly skilled 17-year-old thief, joins a guild of assassins with questionable motives. Tristam, a young knight, fights against the vicious Demon Riders that are ravaging the city. 

Mirage by Somaiya Daud: In a star system dominated by the brutal Vathek empire, 18-year-old Amani is forced to work as a body double for the princess who is hated by her conquered people.

The Never Tilting World by Rin Chupeco: In  a world ruled by goddesses that has been split in two—one half existing in perpetual scorching Day, the other in freezing Night—twins separated at birth Odessa and Haidee embark on a quest across the great divide and rule a reunited world.

Mooncakes by Wendy Xu & Suzanne Walker: Teen witch Nova Huang runs into her childhood crush, Tam Lang, battling a horse demon in the woods. Pursued by dark forces eager to claim the magic of wolves and out of options, Tam turns to Nova for help. 

Moribito, Guardian of the Spirit by Nahoko Uehashi: The wandering warrior Balsa is hired to protect Prince Chagum from both a mysterious monster and the prince's father, the Mikado.

Moribito II, Guardian of the Darkness by Nahoko Uehashi: The wandering female bodyguard Balsa returns to her native country of Kanbal, where she uncovers a conspiracy to frame her mentor and herself.

Night of the Dragon (Shadow of the Fox #3) by Julie Kagawa: As darkness rises and chaos reigns,  fierce kitsune shapeshifter Yumeko and her shadowy protector Kage Tatsumi, will face down the greatest evil of all.

Not Your Sidekick by C.B. Lee: Resigned to a life without superpowers in a world full of them, Jess takes a paid internship where she helps a heinous supervillain and works with her longtime crush Abby, but stumbles on a massive plot.

Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2) by C.B. Lee: After discovering a massive cover-up by the Heroes’ League of Heroes, shapeshifter Bells Broussard and his friends Jess, Emma, and Abby set off on a secret mission to find the Resistance.

Not Your Backup by C.B. Lee (Sidekick Squad #3): As the Resistance moves to challenge the corrupt League of Heroes, Emma Robledo realizes where her place is in this fight: at the front.

On This Unworthy Scaffold (Shadow Players #3) by Heidi Heilig: Jetta’s home is spiraling into civil war.Le Trépas—the deadly necromancer—has used his blood magic to wrest control of the country. Meanwhile, Jetta’s love interest, brother, and friend are intent on infiltrating the palace to stop the Boy King and find Le Trépas to put an end to the unleashed chaos.

The Only Thing to Fear by Caroline Tung Richmond: After 70 years since Hitler's armies won the war, 16-year-old Zara St. James lives in the Shenandoah hills, part of the Eastern American Territories, under the rule of the Nazis--but a resistance movement is growing. 

The Ones We’re Meant to Find by Joan He: In a near future when life is harsh outside of Earth’s last unpolluted place, Cee tries to leave an abandoned island while her sister, STEM prodigy Kasey Mizuhara, seeks escape from the science and home she once trusted.

One Dark Throne (Three Dark Crowns #2) by Kendare Blake: Preparing for the queens' sixteenth birthday celebration and navigating the fallout of the Quickening, sisters Arsinoe, Katharine, and Mirabella reassess their strategic paths to the throne using new understandings of their powers and destinies.

Our Violent Ends (These Violent Delights #2) by Chloe Gong: In 1927, Shanghai tethers on the edge of revolution. After sacrificing her relationship with Roma to protect him from the blood feud, Juliette has been a girl on the warpath. Then a new monstrous danger emerges in the city, and while secrets keep them apart, Juliette must secure Roma’s cooperation if they are to end this threat.

Prodigy (Legend #2) by Marie Lu: June and Day make their way to Las Vegas where they join the rebel Patriot group and become involved in an assassination plot against the Elector in hopes of saving the Republic.

Quantum Coin (Fair Coin #2) by E.C. Myers: Ephraim, Jena, and Zoe embark on a mission across multiple worlds to learn what's going wrong and how to stop it. They will have to draw on every resource available and trust in alternate versions of themselves and their friends, before it's too late for all of them.

Ravage the Dark (Scavenge the Stars #2) by Tara Sim: After escaping the city of Moray, Amaya and Cayo head to the port city of Baleine to find the mysterious Benefactor and put a stop to the counterfeit currency that is spreading Ash Fever throughout the kingdoms.

The Reader by Traci Chee:  Set in a world where reading is unheard-of, Sefia makes use of a mysterious object to track down who kidnapped her aunt Nin and what really happened the night her father was murdered.

A Reaper At the Gates (An Ember in the Ashes #3) by Sabaa Tahir: Beyond the Empire and within it, the threat of war looms ever larger as the Blood Shrike, Helene Aquilla, Laia of Serra, and Elias Veturius all face increasing dangers.

Rebel (Legend #4) by Marie Lu: Brothers Eden and Daniel Wing struggle to accept who they’ve each become since their time in the Republic, but a new danger creeps into the distance that’s grown between them. Eden soon finds himself drawn so far into Ross City’s dark side, even his legendary brother can’t save him. At least not on his own.

Rebelwing by Andrea Tang: At a prestigious prep school, scholastic student Prudence Wu, who smuggles censored media in a futuristic North America divided by culture wars and becomes an unlikely revolutionary, after being imprinted by Rebelwing, a sentient cybernetic dragon.

Renegade Flight (Rebelwing #2) by Andrea Tang: Pilot-in-training Viola Park, a probationary student at GAN Academy, enters a mech combat tournament that becomes a fight for the future of Peacekeepers everywhere.

Rising Like a Storm (The Wrath of Ambar #2) by Tanaz Bhathena: Gul and Cavas must unite their magical forces―and hold onto their growing romance―to save their kingdom from tyranny.

The Righteous (The Beautiful #3) by Renée Ahdieh: Pippa Montrose is tired of losing everything she loves. When her best friend Celine disappears under mysterious circumstances, Pippa resolves to find her, even if the journey takes her into the dangerous world of the fae, where she might find more than she bargained for in the charismatic Arjun Desai.

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee: The never-before-told backstory of Avatar Kyoshi, from a girl of humble origins to the merciless pursuer of justice who is still feared and admired centuries after she became the Avatar.

Rogue (Talon #2) by Julie Kagawa: Unable to forget the human boy who saved her from a Talon assassin, Ember is determined to save him from execution with the help of rebel dragon Cobalt and his crew of rogues.

Rogue Heart (Rebel Seoul #2) by Axie Oh: Two years after the Battle of Neo Seoul, telepath Ama must use her telepathic abilities to infiltrate the base of the Alliance’s new war commander, Alex Kim, her first love who betrayed her.

The Rose and the Dagger (Wrath and the Dawn #2) by Renee Adhieh: Unsure who to trust, Shahrzad takes matters into her own hands to try and break the curse and reunite with her one true love.

The Rose Society (Young Elites #2) by Marie Lu: Adelina Amouteru’s heart has suffered at the hands of both family and friends, turning her down the bitter path of revenge. Now known and feared as the White Wolf, she and her sister flee Kenettra to find other Young Elites in the hopes of building her own army of allies. Her goal: to strike down the Inquisition Axis.

Ruse (Want #2) by Cindy Pon: In near-future Shanghai where society is divided between the fabulously wealthy business elite and the masses they exploit, Jason Zhou must play a dangerous cat and mouse game with the ruthless CEO of an all powerful corporation which has an ever-growing choke hold on the polluted metropolis.

Scavenge the Stars by Tara Sim: In the city-state of Moray, Amaya, orphaned by a powerful merchant’s greed and condemned to seven years aboard a debtor’s ship, returns to seek revenge only to encounter the merchant’s son in this gender-swapped retelling of The Count of Monte Cristo.

Serpentine by Cindy Pon: Although 16-year-old Skybright feels lucky to be the handmaid and companion to the daughter of a wealthy family, she is hiding a secret that threatens to destroy her position and her closest relationships.

Sacrifice (Serpertine #2) by Cindy Pon: When Zhen Ni discovers that her new husband, the strange and brutish Master Hou, may not be all he seems, Skybright and Stone must travel through the terrifying underworld to save her.

Seven Deadly Shadows by Courtney Alameda & Valynne Maetani: Set in contemporary Japan, Shinto temple priestess Kira Fujikawa, must seek the aid of seven ruthless shinigami, in order to protect Kyoto from an ancient evil.

Shatter the Sky by Rebecca Kim Wells: Maren, desperate to save her kidnapped girlfriend Kaia, plans to steal one of the emperor’s dragons and storm the Aurati stronghold, but her success depends on becoming an apprentice to the mysterious dragon trainer, which proves to be a dangerous venture.

Talon by Julie Kagawa: In a world in which near-extinct dragons pass as humans to grow their numbers secretly, siblings Ember and Dante Hill prepare for destined positions in the world of Talon only to be hunted by a dragon-slaying soldier.

The Ship Beyond Time (Girl From Everywhere #2) by Heidi Heilig: Nix has escaped her past, but when the person she loves most is at risk, even the daughter of a time traveler may not be able to outrun her fate—no matter where she goes.

The Shadow Mission (The Athena Protocol #2) by Shamim Sharif: Jessie Archer faced down death to prove her dedication to Athena, the elite organization of female spies she works for. Now she’s back on the team, in time to head to Pakistan to take down the man whose actions spurred Athena’s founders to create the secretive squad. 

The Shadow of Kyoshi (Kyoshi #2) by F.C. Yee: Kyoshi’s place as the true Avatar has finally been cemented. With her mentors gone, Kyoshi voyages across the Four Nations, struggling to keep the peace. But while her reputation grows, a mysterious threat emerges from the Spirit World. To stop it, Kyoshi, Rangi, and their reluctant allies must join forces.

Shadow of the Fox by Julie Kagawa: Demons have burned the temple Yumeko was raised in to the ground, killing everyone within, including the master who trained her to both use and hide her kitsune shapeshifting powers. Yumeko escapes with the temple’s greatest treasure—one part of the ancient scroll. Fate thrusts her into the path of a mysterious samurai, Kage Tatsumi of the Shadow Clan. Yumeko knows he seeks what she has…and is under orders to kill anything and anyone who stands between him and the scroll.

Shadow Girl by Liana Liu: When Mei arrives at the beautiful home on Arrow Island, she can't help feeling relieved. She's happy to spend the summer tutoring a rich man's daughter if it means a break from her normal life. Yet she can't shake her fear that there is danger lurking in the shadows of this beautiful house, a darkness that could destroy the family inside and out...and Mei along with them. 

Shadowsong (Wintersong #2) by S. Jae-Jones: Liesl is working toward furthering both her brother’s and her own musical careers. But when troubling signs arise that the barrier between worlds is crumbling, Liesl must return to the Underground to unravel the mystery of life, death, and the Goblin King—who he was, who he is, and who he will be.

Smoke in the Sun (A Flame in the Mist #2) by Renee Ahdieh: After Okami is captured in the Jukai forest, Mariko has no choice—to rescue him, she tricks her brother, Kenshin, and betrothed, Raiden, into thinking she was being held by the Black Clan against her will. But each secret Mariko unfurls gives way to the next, ensnaring her and Okami in a political scheme that threatens their honor, their love and very the safety of the empire.

Sisters of the Snake by Sasha & Sarena Nanua: an Indian-inspired fantasy where twins separated at birth—one now a princess, the other a street thief— must switch places in a bid to stop a catastrophic war that threatens to tear their kingdom apart.

Silver Phoenix (Kingdom of Xia #1) by Cindy Pon: With her father long overdue from his journey and a lecherous merchant blackmailing her into marriage, 17-year-old Ai Ling becomes aware of a strange power within her as she goes in search of her parent.

The Silvered Serpents (The Gilded Wolves #2) by Roshani Chokshi: Séverin and his team members might have successfully thwarted the Fallen House, but at a terrible cost. Desperate to make amends, Séverin pursues a dangerous lead to find a long lost artifact rumored to grant its possessor the power of God. Their hunt lures them far from Paris, and into icy heart of Russia.

Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim: The Wild Swans meets East Asian fantasy where an exiled princess, Shiori, must unweave the curse that turned her brothers into cranes, assisted by her spurned betrothed, a mercurial dragon, and a paper bird brought to life by her own magic.

A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) by Sabaa Tahir: Laia of Serra is now allied with the Blood Shrike, Helen Aquilla. Determined to stop the approaching apocalypse, she throws herself into the destruction of the Nightbringer. In the process, she awakens an ancient power that could lead her to victory–or to an unimaginable doom.

Skyhunter by Marie Lu: Robbed of her voice and home, Talin Kanami knows firsthand the brutality of the Federation. Their cruelty forced her and her mother to seek asylum in Mara. When a mysterious prisoner is brought from the front, Talin senses there’s more to him than meets the eye. 

The Shadow Glass (Bone Witch #3) by Rin Chupeco: Bone witch Tea’s dark magic eats away at her, but she must save the one she loves most, even while her life—and the kingdoms—are on the brink of destruction.

Song of the Abyss (Towers of Wind #2) by Makiia Lucier: When menacing raiders attack her ship, navigator Reyna must use every resource at her disposal, including placing her trust in a handsome prince from a rival kingdom.

Song of the Crimson Flower by Julie C. Dao: After cruelly rejecting Bao, the poor physician’s apprentice who loves her, Lan, a wealthy nobleman’s daughter, regrets her actions. After learning that Bao’s soul has been trapped inside a flute by a witch, Lan vows to make amends and help break the spell.

Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) by Julie Kagawa: As the paths of Yumeko and the possessed Tatsumi cross once again, the entire empire will be thrown into chaos.

A Spark of White Fire by Sangu Mandanna: In this sci-fi retelling of the  Mahabrahata, Esmae learns that the King of Wychstar is offering the unbeatable warship Titania to the winner of his competition and she sees her chance to return home and help her brother win back his kingdom.

The Speaker (Sea of Ink and Gold #2) by Traci Chee: Having barely escaped the clutches of the Guard, Sefia and Archer are back on the run, slipping into the safety of the forest to tend to their wounds and plan their next move.

Spin the Dawn by Elizabeth Lim: 17-year-old Maia Tamarin poses as a boy to compete for the role of imperial tailor, and embarks on an impossible journey to sew three magic dresses, from the sun, the moon, and the stars, with help from the mysterious court magician, Edan.

Spell Starter (Caster #2) by Elsie Chapman: Yes, Aza Wu now has magic back, but now she’s in the employ of the gang leader, St. Willow. Who soon decides that having Aza as a fighter is much more lucrative than as a fixer.

Star Daughter by Shveta Thakrar: Inspired by Hindu mythology, half-mortal, half-star Sheetal enters a celestial competition to save her human father’s life.

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi:  Treated with scorn and fear in her father's kingdom because of a formidable horoscope, 16-year-old Maya commits herself to her education only to land in an arranged marriage that culminates in her sudden elevation to the throne, a situation that is threatened by dark secrets and Otherworldly magic.

Star-Touched Stories by Roshani Choski:Three lush and adventurous stories in the Star-Touched world.

Steelstriker (Skyhunter #2) by Marie Lu: After the fall of Mara, and with the fate of a broken world hanging in the balance, Talin and Red must reunite the Strikers and find their way back to one another.

Storm the Earth (Shatter the Sky #2) by Rebecca Kim Wells: Maren and her girlfriend Kaia set out to rescue Sev  in Zafed, and free the dragons from the corrupt emperor.

The Storyteller (Sea of Ink and Gold #3) by Traci Chee: Sefia is determined to keep Archer out of the Guard’s clutches and their plans for war between the Five Kingdoms. As Sefia and Archer watch Kelanna start to crumble to the Guard’s will, they will have to choose between their love and joining a war that just might tear them apart.

Stronger Than A Bronze Dragon by Mary Fan: In this steampunk fantasy set in Qing dynasty-inspired China, warrior girl Anlei teams up with a thief to save her village from shadow spirits, but after arriving at the Courts of Hell, a discovery challenges everything they know about who the real enemy is.

The Suffering (Girl From the Well #2) by Rin Chupeco: When an old friend disappears in Aokigahara, Japan's infamous 'suicide forest,' Tark and the ghostly Okiku must resolve their differences and return to find her. In a strange village inside Aokigahara, old ghosts and an ancient evil lie waiting. 

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong: In 1920s Shanghai, starcrossed heirs to rival gangs, Juliette Cai and Roma Montagov, must work together to face a monster that hunts the city streets before the outbreak of the Chinese Civil War.

Three Dark Crowns by Kendare Blake: A fantasy about triplet sisters separated at birth, where one of the sisters will grow up to be queen of their magical island, but in order to ascend to the throne she must hone her magic for a dark purpose: assassinating her other two sisters before they kill her first.

A Thousand Beginnings and Endings edited by Ellen Oh & Elsie Chapman: 15 bestselling and acclaimed authors reimagine the folklore and mythology of East and South Asia in short stories that are by turns enchanting, heartbreaking, romantic, and passionate.

A Thousand Fires by Shannon Price: In modern-day San Francisco where three gangs rule the city streets, half-Filipina teen Valerie Simons enters the Red Bridge Wars to seek vengeance for her younger brother’s death, but soon finds herself torn between old love and new loyalty.

The Tiger at Midnight by Swati Teerdhala: In ancient India, soldier Kunal hunts the “Viper,” rebel girl Esha accused of killing his General, embarking on a dangerous cat and mouse game and where both must decide—loyalty to their old lives or to a love that’s made them dream of new ones.

Timekeeper by Tara Sim: set in an alternate Victorian era where clock towers control time, about a teen clock mechanic who is assigned to repair a damaged tower and finds himself falling in forbidden love with the boy he mistakes for his apprentice, but is actually the tower’s clock spirit, and whose life is threatened by a mysterious attacker planting bombs in clock towers across England.

A Torch Against the Night (An Ember in the Ashes #2) by Sabaa Tahir: Laia and Elias fight their way north to liberate Laia’s brother from the horrors of Kauf Prison. Hunted by Empire soldiers, manipulated by the Commandant, and haunted by their pasts, Laia and Elias must outfox their enemies and confront the treacherousness of their own hearts.

Two Dark Reigns (Three Dark Crowns #3) by Kendare Blake: A victorious Katharine sits on the throne, Mirabella and Arsinoe are in hiding, and an unexpected renegade is about to wage a war of her own. The crown has been won, but these queens are far from done.

Unravel the Dusk (The Blood of Stars #2) by Elizabeth Lim: With a war brewing, master tailor Maia Tamarin will stop at nothing to find her love Edan, protect her family, and bring lasting peace to her country.

Vicious Spirits (Gumiho #2) by Kat Cho: With the support of Somin and Junu, Miyoung and Jihoon might just have a shot at normalcy. But Miyoung is getting sicker by the day and her friends don’t know how to save her. With few options remaining, Junu has an idea but it might require the ultimate sacrifice and, let’s be honest, Junu isn’t known for his “generosity.”

Want by Cindy Pon: Set in a teeming, pollution choked Taipei which follows a group of teens living on the seedy fringes of a highly divided society that works only for the elite as they decide to risk everything to take down the powerful company which controls the city. 

Warcross by Marie Lu: When teenage coder Emika Chen hacks her way into the opening tournament of the Warcross Championships, she glitches herself into the game as well as a sinister plot with major consequences for the entire Warcross empire. 

Warrior (Dragon King Chronicles #2) by Ellen Oh: Kira, the yellow-eyed demon slayer of Hansong, continues her quest to find the lost treasures of the dragon king's prophecy, save her cousin, the prince, unite her kingdom, and defeat the demon lord

We Hunt the Flame (Sands of Arawiya #1) by Hafsah Faizal: In a world inspired by ancient Arabia, 17-year-old huntress Zafira must disguise herself as a man to seek a lost artifact that could return magic to her cursed world.

We Free the Stars (Sands of Arawiya #2) by Hafsah Faizal: When Zafria, the Hunter, and Nasir, the Prince of Death both embark on a quest to uncover a lost magic artifact, they encounter an ancient evil long thought destroyed - and discover that the prize they seek may be even more dangerous this time.

Where Dreams Descend by Janella Angeles: Showgirl Kallia, haunted by a dark past, must compete in a magician’s competition in order to secure her ambition and freedom from the handsome, enigmatic keeper of the club, Jack, even as mysterious accidents seem to plague her every move, while crossing paths with another talented magician, Demarco.

When Night Breaks (Kingdom of Hearts #2) by Janella Angeles: The competition has come to a disastrous end, and Daron Demarco’s fall from grace is now front page news. But little matters to him beyond Kallia, the contestant he fell for. With time running out, Kallia must embrace her role in a darker destiny.

Wicked Fox by Kat Cho: After 18-year-old Miyoung Gu, a nine-tailed fox surviving in modern-day Seoul by eating the souls of evil men, kills a murderous goblin to save Jihoon, she is forced to choose between her immortal life and his.

Wildcard (Warcross #2) by Marie Lu: Emika Chen barely made it out of the Warcross Championships alive. Knowing the truth behind Hideo's new NeuroLink algorithm, she is determined to put a stop to his plans. 

The Wild Ones by Nafiza Azad: A a multi-perspective feminist narrative about a fierce band of magic-wielding girls—the Wild Ones—who have collectively survived unspeakable things, and together are determined to save other girls from the cruelties and tragedies they’ve had to endure in their own past lives.

Wintersong by S. Jae-Jones: After her sister is kidnapped by the Goblin King, Liesl journeys to the Underground and is faced with an impossible decision when she finds herself captivated by the strange world and its mysterious ruler.

Wicked As You Wish by Rin Chupeco: A girl descended from Filipina mythological heroine Maria Makiling, finds herself caught up in a war between two fairy tale kingdoms, where the fate of Avalon is at stake.

Windborn by Mary Fan: With magicians hot on their trail, air nymph Kiri and magician’s apprentice Darien embark on a treacherous journey through dangerous lands to freedom.

World After (Penryn & The End of Days #2) by Susan Ee: Penryn's search for her kidnapped sister, Paige, leads her into the heart of the angels' secret plans, while Raffe must choose between reclaiming his wings--and his role as the angels' leader--or helping Penryn survive.

The Wrath and the Dawn by Renee Adhieh: In this reimagining of The Arabian Nights, Shahrzad plans to avenge the death of her dearest friend by volunteering to marry the murderous boy-king of Khorasan but discovers not all is as it seems within the palace.

Zeroboxer by Fonda Lee: As 17-year-old Carr 'the Raptor' Luka rises to fame in the weightless combat sport of zeroboxing, he learns a devastating secret that jeopardizes not only his future in the sport, but interplanetary relations.

[lackingsympathy]

Once upon a time there was a beast who protected his dark being from the light of the world in a distant hut. It knew that the world wanted to erase its darkness - because it saw something bad in it. No one understood that the beast cannot exist without darkness. So the light gathered in front of his hut, wanted to push into it and the beast became wilder. They didn't understand it, didn't accept it, didn't see it for what it really was. It began to hate the light, for it came to change it. What the beast didn't see was a young woman standing behind the hut. She understood the fight the beast had to fight, did not impose herself on him. Instead, she chose a different path. The beast entrenched itself more and more, eating its way deeper into its darkness. Until it opened the back door - and saw the young woman standing there. It needed no words - acceptance needs no words. The young woman and the beast retreated into the house and she enlightened his being. Not completely, no, but sufficiently. And together they disappeared into the depths while the world kept searching.

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞: @goldenlights-inmysoul

I've seen the works of heaven but it took your love to set me free. I've seen the wonders of the world, stood on mountains green and tall, seen kingdoms rise and fall - all for love and war. Yet I yearn to understand the amazement in my hands. There's nothing on this land like you. You amaze me, you made me see. Damn, how the colors came to life in me...

There are millions of things I wish for you. Putting them all into words would go beyond the scope. But first and foremost, I wish you the ability to live your life freely. I wish you goals, successes, yes, failures too - because you are someone I want to see grow. You have such a big heart and you love in such a unique way that not even the best can do you justice. You changed something in me, and not just in me. I wish you the fulfillment of your greatest longings, intoxicating experiences and memories that last a lifetime. You unite worlds within you and I have my greatest respect for you. Even evil is in awe of you, for one look into your eyes could make any beast long for your light. To me you are the greatest gift - because you came into my life with no expectations. Just as I want to share mine with you and live out our happiness in an endless loop with you. There could not be anything more beautiful than you for me. I love you. 𝐕𝐨𝐜𝐞̂ 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐜̧𝐚̃𝐨. 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐳 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚́𝐫𝐢𝐨, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[zacharyleigh316]

solar eclipse

solar eclipse - a moonchaser ficlet | Word Count: 679 | Teen and Up | Read here (or below cut)

Looking at James Potter was like looking into the sun.

Remus knew that if you stared long enough you’d only get burned, and yet, it was also impossible to look away. Every room James was in, he was just there, the absolute centre of attention, even when he wasn’t trying to be. Especially then. Drew your eye without even thinking of being sought. Burned brighter and hotter than any other, and scorched your entire being inside and out. And yet…and yet. People just fell into James’ orbit without much say, but also without much objection. It was who he was. The very definition of James Fleamont Potter. For the people within his gravitational pull revolves around him, for him, just as he did for them. It made Remus’ chest ache, with how much James was loved. With how much James loved in turn. How Remus, like any adoring form of life, yearned to bask in James’ sunlight, to feel the warmth of his golden glow, to know this light intimately, and without competition, so that he may, too, one day grow big enough to reach him.

Because looking at James Potter was like looking into the sun. If you stared long enough you’d only get burned. 

But Remus was no stranger to pain.

Being around Remus Lupin was like being around the moon.

James knew that the moon was always there, and that, even when you couldn’t see it, with an absolute assuredness—as day turns to night—it would return to its rightful place. Cool, calm, and collected, a resounding fixture in people’s life, wise beyond his years. A mystery, an enigma James couldn’t help but be lured in by, like a siren song warning him of the rising tide. He is but a simple man, never one to err on the side of caution, weak to the lunar call pulling him in. A quiet strength is Remus John Lupin, a friend of friends, of creatures, of suns and stars. A satellite, James surmises, assumed to be caught in everyone’s rotation, when, in reality, they depend on him. Someone to look up to, to whisper secrets into the night, moonlight as their only witness, and the promise of discretion in his humbling affection. James wept for the chance to experience Remus’ ethereal beauty, scars like craters, through each phase, ever changing, both human and beast. Fully. New. Longed to be purified by his silver ribboned glow. Under his watchful eye. The reflection of James himself, someone who got him, understood him, never judged him…completed him. 

Because being around Remus Lupin was like being around the moon. And sure enough, when day turned to night, he’d still be there.

James really valued steadfast loyalty.

So was it really a surprise when Remus and James found each other? It was bound to happen eventually, all shy, careful smiles and tentative touches, neither one wanting to breach the gap first, cross the line from friendship to something more. The truth was, however, that they would always be something more to each other—James and Remus, Remus and James. Both of them are incomplete without the other, two halves of a whole. Something cosmic. Astronomical. Once amongst the stars, past loves that have since burned out, a sun and moon come back around to one another. Lips would touch softly, shared in both day and night, and fingertips would leave miniature solar flares in their wake, trailing across marred skin. Bodies would melt together, all encompassing like the weighted blanket of twilight’s dusk, and limbs would intertwine, until you couldn’t even tell where one began and the other ended. Time was irrelevant in these moments; it was as if it all stood still, waiting with bated breath for them to consume one another. Their love was shining. Glowing. Light. A sun cannot be without its moon and vice versa—chasing after each other in endless orbit.

James Potter was the sun, and Remus Lupin was the moon.

And when the sun and moon come together, they make a solar eclipse.

[colossal-fallout]

Historia and male bodied reader. Breeding kink. I'm making you go further down this hoe you dug

The Farmhand Father 🌾

Male bodied reader X Historia

Momma Sarah is feeding you male bodied readers well with this one...

Warnings: 18+ NSFW smut. Breeding kink. Size kink. innocence tainting. Seducing. Orgasm denial. Slight pillow Princess Historia.

Seriously... This is filth. You've been warned.

You remember mere hours ago that cute face of Historia blushing deeply, squirming in such a shy way, you thought it was absolutely adorable. Her huge, sky blues' glancing away nervously, her hands behind her back a sure sign of her feeling uncomfortable as she confessed her desires for you.

This powerful, high queen dressed now in normal clothes as she came to your farm escorted by her two most trusted guards.

You blink, her words melting into a blur as if you were receiving some awful news.

Yet, it couldn't be further from the truth.

Queen Historia. In all her royal glory. Someone who had visited your farm a fair few occasions. Nothing special. Royal duties and all that. You had been in awe at her beauty - as were most. She was straight from a fairy tale. Innocent, pure and sweet.

No.

She wasn't like she were from a fairy tale. Historia was the physical manefestation of inspiration to write the most gorgeous queen in the land. The most dangerous calling siren; her luring beauty so hazardously tempting.

You had to admit it, you were more than surprised to see her at your door, still looking devine even in nicely pressed civilian clothes.

"And so, due to royal duties I must produce an heir, to keep the Riess bloodline and - "

You were sure you'd heard her but your mind just wasn't accepting it. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was actually happening.

Perhaps you'd fallen and hit you head on the horse plough again and this was some weird coma dream. You were sure to wake up to those two Colten boys from the next farm over annoying you by trespassing. The usual, fantasy free life.

"Of course, I understand if you don't want to. Please don't feel forced because I am your queen. It's just... You are my first choice. I've wanted you for some time." Her crimson face glances away.

You already felt your cock twitch at the mere words of her suggesting what she was.

It was torture every single time she's visited to boost morale of the farmworkers. Her graceful form would float in, her delicate frame surprisingly strong as she even helped out with certain tasks, her kindness overflowing, pouring into the hearts of her citizens.

God what you wouldn't give just to smell her...

The amount of times you'd tugged yourself stupid, panting her name and imagineing her little pussy stretching around your colossal cock.

Boy was she in for a shock.

You hold yourself steady, your mouth watering with excitement. You did well to hide it. Surely if she knew how desperate you were for her, the extent of the yearning for her would surely make her rethink her decision.

You sit tense - still not really allowing yourself to believe this was real.

"What about your guards?" You ask, trying your hardest to keep your words steady.

She glanced back out of your living room window, the guards waiting by her carriage at the bottom of your large yard.

"They've been told to stay put. But, I don't mean we do this right now. I want you, I do. But shouldn't we get to know each other a bit more?"

Shit.

Now she was within your grasp, you couldn't risk her changing her mind. This was an opportunity of a life time. And you'd be damned if she gave up her innocence to some soldier.

But what could you do?

You most certainly were not going to force yourself upon her. You weren't a monster. Also, even if you were, you would probably be executed for such a thing.

And rightly so.

Your mind races as she stands up to excuse herself.

"It'll allow you some time to think. I'll be back here in one month from now."

A whole month?!

30 whole days of knowing she wanted you, was wet for you and might change her mind at any given time?! No way were you about to let that happen.

You spring to your feet, throat now suddenly dry.

"Historia. If I may...?" You hold out your hand feigning patience.

You're thrilled when her satin soft palm lands within yours, a touch you'd craved for the longest time. A gasp escapes her as you sit back down and pull her comfortably onto your lap. Her heart hammering with excitement as this strapping farmer she had been wanting for a while now pulls her down with such bold strength.

Her lips stay parted and that cute magenta tone etches her cheeks.

"Of course. Let's get to know one another better." You sneer. "There's something I must warn you about."

"Oh?" She sings in surprise as you allow yourself to finally inhale her scent. Her warm form on your lap was enough - your monster cock growing, yawing and stretching itself awake.

You swivel her around so she's now straddling you as you lean back further into the chair, your hands firmly caressing her thighs as her crotch sits on your solid errection.

Her eyes widen, nails slightly dig into your skin reflexively when she feels the sheer size and girth of you. Her thighs subconsciously squeeze together as that Magenta colour deepens into more of a crimson hue.

"Oh... I..." She stammers, squirming uncomfortably.

She didn't think it would be possible to want you more. You'd certainly caught her eye and she'd thought about you often, wondering how you were doing and wether or not you saw her the way she did you. And now, feeling your huge beast beneath her ceased all of her cognitive functions.

"Would that be okay, my sweetheart?" You coo, brushing her hair from her face and holding back a sneer.

You needed this to work.

You. A mere farmer about to fuck the queen. The innocent, pure queen who no one else had fucked (male anyway). You didn't mind the rumours that she had dated a fellow female soldier in her cadet days. She's still untainted by sinful cock.

Beneath your cool exterior was a panicked inferno of hazed lust. There was no possible way she was walking out of that door without being fucked by you, now you felt the warmth of her pussy rolling through the cloth of her panties under that skirt as her legs splayed across you.

Historia's blood ran hot and she was close to crumbling.

"I need to go." She muttered yet didn't make a move. Her eyes were still wide - her mind telling her to leave but her body refusing to let her.

Your fingers snake up to her waist before you begin you push her back and forth, her slit rubbing against your large buldge.

"I just wanted to make sure." You mutter, your soft facade quickly falling away as you have her warmth massaging you, moving her small form with such ease. "Before you go. I need you to be sure. I need you to really feel me. To know what you're going to be having."

Her face deepens in colour as warm, beautiful sensations caress her clit and folds as you rock her up and down against your length what was now throbbing; aching to be released and inside of her.

Wit great restraint, you prevent yourself from running your hands all over her. If you come on any stronger it would surely break the spell. You had to wait for the right moment.

"y-yes. Of course." She swallows hard, her chest rising and falling as you push her down a little harder, your groan being held back.

"You're so beautiful." You marvel, as if it was your first time noticing it.

Her hands suddenly and quickly run up your chest as she leans forward with a moan and crashes her lips against yours, her hips now grinding against you on their own accord, your hands now free to roam up her back as her hands run through your hair with desperation.

You sneer into her mouth, her lust too far gone for her to notice as this beautiful woman rubs against you frantically like a cat in heat, moaning into your mouth.

"I need you." She breathes, rubbing her head anywhere she could against you. "Please don't let me go. I need you now. Please have me... Oh please..."

With a grunt you get to your feet, her body wrapped around you as you carry her towards your bedroom. Your tongue swirled around her sweet little mouth, devouring her as you lock your door behind you and lower her down onto your bed.

"Jesus, Historia..." You gasp when you see a wet patch on your trousers where she'd been sitting.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaks, mortified. You didn't think there were a deeper shade of red on the colour spectrum as she slithers in embaressment.

"Don't be." You breathe, removing your damp pants and springing your cock free.

She gasps at the sight of your huge dick, it's fat head gleaming with malice as it almost angrily pulses and throbs, demanding entrence inside of her.

Pushing her legs up harshly, you put your face close to her soaked crotch, finally inhaling her scent before you encase your mouth around her, sucking the moisture from the material - your hot breath feeling heavenly as her head throws back.

She'd never wanted a man so much in her life. Nor had she been so turned on in all of her twenty one years.

You continue to suck and hum, your wish finally coming true. You couldn't wait to ruin her tiny frame, your fingers hooking at the cloth and pulling them down her legs.

"Please, don't stop." She pleads.

You glance down at her bloom that sat neatly between her legs.

Thick ropes of slick covered her small pink lips, her hunger making it twitch and clench, her insides spasming and trying to grab onto anything it could to ingest.

"fuck..." You sigh before leaning down and running your tongue up, moaning at her taste.

"Ah~!" She cries out in Hysteria, her back bending and hands gripping your sheets as you run your tongue painfully slow over her clit.

You had to give her the best orgasm of her life. You would go insane having her then not being able to again.

You take a fingertips and push it against her warm hole. You weren't sure how your were going to fit inside of her.

You'd make it fit.

Your name leaves her lips over and over as you insert your index, her insides instantly pulling you inside with glee.

Suddenly you pull away, leaving her starving as you make her way up her stomach, removing her shirt.

"You can't cum yet..." You explain as your trembling fingers removes her coverings. "It needs to be huge and at the same time as me. Best chance of becoming pregnant."

She nods, pained but understanding.

"Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my hot cum..." You groan into her as her now freed breasts are caressed by your mouth. "Get you nice and full with me. Gonna breed you like a pedigree bitch."

She whines at your words, your name repeating over and over as you kiss her breasts as if they were her mouth; tongue lapping and swirling around her pink nubs, lips smacking loudly against her soft, clean skin.

You lean back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Queen Historia, a flustered quivering and pleading mess - naked and splayed on your bed.

"Let's get you a little used to my size, huh?" You grunt, pupils dilated with a predatory hunger, pushing her arms up by her head and hovering above her chest removing your shirt with one hand.

You push your leaking head to her mouth.

"Kiss it." You command.

She does so immediately, her mouth pouting as she presses it against you, smearing your messy liquids around her lips. Rocking your hips you grab her hair with one hand pushing her mouth down. Her jaw is wide and you can only get her lips just past your huge head.

Hissing loudly you push her as far as she'll go, her eyes tragically beautiful as they water at your size her warm mouth sealed tightly around you; her tongue flat as you rock her head by her hair, her stifled moans loud and hysteric.

"Shi~~~t..." You sigh, as she gags and chokes, the back of her throat spasming around you, pulling her faster as you thrust into her, now with two hands as you push yourself up higher onto your knees.

"You've never had your mouth around a dick before, huh?" You ask.

She shakes her head, wet lashes fluttering with blinks before they roll with another loud choke.

You pull out, allowing her some air, ropes of her saliva sticking to you, keeping you connected to her mouth.

She whines your name after her gasp of oxygen before you push yourself back in, thrusting harder than before, your grip on her hair nice and tight as you skull fuck your queen.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll only ever want my cock." You hum, sneering as her eyes roll furher, the squelching noises like music to your ears. One final deep thrust and you pull out, your orgasm brewing at a dangerously high speed.

"Take me, please!" She begs. "I need you inside of me! I'll do anything... Please!"

Panting you spread her legs, the arousal of you fucking her mouth now a wet patch on your bedsheets. Taking the bottom of your shaft you line up to her heat. You can already feel her walls trying to pull you in from within her. You sluggishly rub your thumb againt her external g spot, pushing yourself forward.

She cries out loudly, her spine folding backwards and head tilting as your head squishes into her tiny hole.

"It's s'so big... Ah~! I'm so full!"

"Oh baby..." You frown. "My head isnt even fully in you yet."

She whines in response as you slowly rock yourself, your angry errection tainting her with its poison, her purity ebbing away with each push, each millimetre that slides inside.

"So fuckin' tight." Your moan is desperate, hungry and predatory.

Glancing down you see her lips splitting apart at your girth, the pink colour washing out into a faded white as they attempt to swallow you.

"y/n!" She warns. "I can't. It's too good!"

You were inside of her now. You were too far gone to care as her entrance begins to spasm at the delicious full feeling of you, her orgasm hitting her hard as she silent screams, her eyes rolling.

"Fuck..." Your mouth waters as she gets even wetter, her ridged tunnel attempting to pull you in deeper. You take this opportunity, harshly thrusting into her while her mind was swirling in the void. You jut forward as your head finally passed her entrance, just as she comes back around.

You can't believe your eyes as you see the bump of your head pushing up against the flesh of her lower stomach - the sight alone almost making blow your thick load.

Historia is now extremely needy, her hands pulling you down and her lips taking yours faithfully as she sobs.

"S'so... Good. Ah~! Don't ever s'stop. Baby..."

"Never." You grunt pushing further into her.

"I can't... I'm going... Again...!"

Your eyebrows fly up in surprise as her nails sink into your back as she clings to you for dear life, holding you as close to her as possible as she cums once more around you.

Your eyes furrow closed. It was getting harder and harder not to cum and you hadn't even thrusted yet. You still weren't fully sheathed. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten cocky and fucked her sweet mouth.

You finally push yourself fully into her as her tongue lolls from her mouth.

"s'so full ah~! Y/n."

You begin to slowly dip into her, her snug insides so warm and tight, embracing your length lovingly, clamping and dancing around you in joy.

"I can't... Go back " she suddenly groans. "Not without you. Without this. Come back with me. Fuck me whenever I please. Your queen commands it."

Had you died and gone to heaven?

You nod. "Sure."

"Fuck me like this every night. I'll just lie here and your size alone can just... Ah~! Again~!"

Your dick is squeezed again, as she cums for a third time without much effort on your part.

"Fuck me over and over. Keep impregnating me. Only your cock is good enough, y/n. Yes! YES!"

Those words pushed you over the edge as well as her greedy tiny cunt sucking out your essence.

"Historia. I'm gonna cum."

"Give me it all." She sobs. "I want every last drop!"

Your pace quickens your hand grabbing and tugging her hair once more.

"Your dick is the only one I've had. And only one I ever will. It's too good not to own. It's mine now. Fuck me, please!" She cries out as she cums yet again.

You roar as your thick, hot cream splurges out of you, colliding with her cervix as she milks you dry. It sure as hell felt like she was taking every last drop - your orgasm going on and on. Your cum is leaking out of her stretched lips by the time you've filled her to the brim - her eyes in the back of her head and mouth open.

She'd ment it too. You didn't even have time to pack your stuff after you'd recovered as she whisked you away to her carriage. Admittedly, she was walking a little weird for a few days after.

Part 2 coming soon....?

[jypbae7]

Could you do a breakdown natal chart for Kun from Wayv?

QIAN KUN - NATAL CHART

Kun was one the most requested I got which was a pleasant surprise!!❤️❤️

(Not claiming to be an expert this is just for fun please don’t take anything too seriously!) Hope this is helpful and that you enjoy it 🥰❤️

Personality: Capricorn Sun, Leo Rising, Taurus Moon, Capricorn Mercury, Capricorn Mars

Clearly a LOT of Earth sign placements but nicely broken up by the fire sign rising

Capricorn Sun has serious and long term plans for the kind of future they want for themselves and once they set out for it they seldom give up. Stubborn to a fault, but also consistent enough to actually persevere. They want the perfect job, reputation, partner, house, family, etc.

Leo rising is a bright, warm and outgoing personality. Lots of energy, creativity and flair. They enjoy having a strong core of friends that they feel understand and enhance their experience and effect on the world. Leo’s are known for being hardworking and as a fixed sign it offers a lot of consistency and determination. They are extremely devoted and loyal once they develop a bond and trust with someone. Though the passion can fizzle out quickly if they aren’t feeling the kind of attention and passion they want.

Taurus Moon is a very grounded person with more social charisma and approachability than Capricorns are known for. They also have a tendency to like bold styles, they have big dreams and goals and you’ll be surprised at how well they can attain them if they’re focused enough (Kun is a Capricorn Stellium so yes this boy KNOWS how to get shit done when it needs to be done) Taurus is also a fixed sign which along with the stubbornness everyone knows about also comes with patience and consistency making them really good leaders when added with their natural friendliness and perseverance

Capricorn Mercury indicates a strong preference for structure, somebody who tends to follow rules and feels uncomfortable breaking them. They tend to have authoritative energy and demeanor. Big ambitions and determination to succeed and excel in their chosen career. Spend more time thinking than they show with a generally very logical mind which can sometimes lead to a black & white perspective

Capricorn Mars - responsible, organized, secretly a thrill seeker, can come off as aloof or guarded when they are around new people or people who they really want to make a good impression on.

Relationships:

Non-Romantic Relationships: Capricorn Sun, Taurus Moon, Leo Rising, Capricorn Mercury, Capricorn Mars

Trustworthy and dependable - the “dad” of the friend group who everyone calls when they have something serious to deal with

Platonic love languages: acts of service and quality time - he loves spending time with people with shared interests especially music. Also loves going out to different places such as different trendy cafes, movie theaters, museums - you name it.

Likes other thrill seekers who push and motivate him to get out of his comfort zone

Sense of humor is a lot more childlike and playful than one would expect from his serious and strict side

Capricorn energy is NOT to be crossed or messed with. These are the ones who are calm af and calculated when angry - this is when you know you are screwed. When Capricorn is calm and collected while enraged, ohhh boy, do they figure out ways to hurt you in the smoothest and most effective ways without so much as lifting their finger. Spare yourself the trauma and DO NOT LIE to him no matter what.

Romantic relationships and preferences : Aquarius Venus, Capricorn Mars, Capricorn Juno, Aries Eros

Aquarius Venus is outgoing, friendly and charismatic. They are attracted to interesting and unique people who stand out of the crowd. They like bold and spontaneous gestures and they will do them back for their partner as well.

Aquarians also dislike overly clingy/needy partners which Capricorn also isn’t a fan of either. These signs are all about independence, individuality, personal expression and achievement. Meaning that while they do yearn for a partner (especially Capricorn placements) they want a partner who is self sufficient and independent with their own hobbies, careers, dreams, goals, etc.

Capricorn Juno implies they’ll be a tough to nail down for very long because Capricorn wants only the best of everything and they’re always busy trying to excel at things and scoping out their options. So you’ll have to prove your worth to them before they are willing to commit because once they do it’s for the long haul

Capricorn likes natural ethereal beauty while Aquarius likes the bold - my guess is healthy mix of both. Natural looking and soft featured with some bold/unique traits like bright/bold hair or fashion style, a bit of spice/sass here and there is another secret pleasure

Be prepared for endless serenades and songs made and sent to you like love letters - whether he’s singing or composing a warm ethereal instrumental for you, his whole heart is in it

Love languages (most to least) - words of affirmation, gift giving, physical touch and quality time

Words of affirmation makes him feel really wanted and needed, he’s also really really good at giving it out to people he loves so if he’s doing it one sidedly it would hurt him and make him feel insecure.

Gives either unbelievably beautiful luxe gifts or unique/fun gifts and loves to surprise his partner with them often especially after time apart

Capricorns HATE wasting time they are hyper aware of how many hours in a day and how much can be done in a day. So, if he’s spending a lot of time with you, you’re very very special and important to him and he prioritizes this time very highly

Star gazing dates, beach dates, camping trips - this man will go out of his way to make sure every date is an experience. He is PREPARED, he has an itinerary in his mind, he’s looked up the travel routes and picked the best one. When you go camping he will FLEX with his efficiency and ability to handle the labor heavy tasks. This man will purposely wait till you’re looking to start chopping wood (not that ANYONE is complaining), put the tent up and have it filled with blankets and pillows galore in 2.00034 seconds because he practiced in the dorm living room with the others like a drill routine. (Lucas taught him how to chop the wood & still look hot while doing it)

Is the MOST polite and endearing person to your family and friends. Goes above and beyond to be the perfect partner around your family and they are unable not to LOVE him. Is especially soft and doting of any children or elderly relatives. And none of it is phony at all, he doesn’t know anyway else to even think. Respect, manners, and family are extremely important to Earth signs. They’ll probably end up liking him more than you but honestly you can’t even blame them

(None of y’all ungrateful people better ever slack on Zaddy Kun’s visuals ever again!! If I don’t get to see his happy trail during 2021 I’m burning the SM building down once and for all)

18+ Preferences:

Aries Eros ooof - passionate, possessive and steamy. Pick their partners off instinct and energy - once they really like you they become infatuated and want to STAY that way. If it’s not the “I need you so fucking bad I’m gonna lose my mind” type of love they DON’T want it.

Leo Rising is a possessive as fuck placement thankfully when they get riled up or jealous they have the confidence not to get angry with you or insecure about it. BUT.... you‘ll still be awakening a whole new type of beast and quite frankly he will let you know that it’s all your fault as he holds you down and uses you like the stupid toy you are till you remember who you belong to

If he sees you doing anything even remotely domestic his Taurus Moon and Capricorn Juno will have his mind go from soft and warm thoughts to bending you over the kitchen counter and taking you right there without a care or second thought spared

Positions where he feels in in control are his favorite - he likes being on top of you, behind you and if he can pick you up and carry you while ramming into you best believe he will.

His favorite is position is missionary - likes to feel big and dominant he also wants to be able to see as much of you as possible and kissing you as much as possible from your lips to just about anywhere else he can reach. Will be staring at you 99% of the time with big smoldering eyes that don’t waver in the slightest. In fact if you give him eye contact back he’ll just be even more turned on

Now...this might be controversial but... Capricorn Mars usually suggests power play/dynamic kink - think rich powerful CEO who secretly fantasizes about being tied up and blindfolded. Not to say that is exclusively his main kink bc it’s definitely not, he is 100% mostly dom BUT with the right person he’d be more than willing and very excited to try it out - probably because they are always in control so it’s an adrenaline rush for them to relinquish it to someone else. Doesn’t necessarily mean an extreme level of being submissive even just simple restraints can feel very extreme for a bossy and in-control Capricorn

Aquarius Venus also likes breaking relationship “norms” and trying out new things. They are super fun and bright when happy so when he’s in love he’s in LOVE. Wants to sing about it 24/7 but is too stubborn to be clingy or needy. The type to smile during sex, especially when he’s on top of you or drunk. Don’t even get me started on drunk handsy Kun whining in your ear about how he just wants to sneak out of the party early.....bc I will genuinely never recover

Very vocal in the bedroom - gives his partner tons of praise. Completely loses his mind and is loud af when you kiss your way from his neck down to below the hips

Most of the time sex with him is more passionate than kinky, not lightening fast jack rabbit thrusts instead hard and deep rhythmic ones that make your whole body shake - Hungry makeout sessions, sneaky little hickeys where no one else will see, massages than turn into hours of love making, takes his time to hit deep and hard inside you, handfuls of your hair, gaspy whispers

When he is feeling more kinky it’s usually spur of the moment. In the car in the middle of a rainy night during a cancelled schedule or after an especially steamy date night where he decides to take you to a hotel afterwards

KING OF AFTER CARE (NOT up for debate) - cooks you an amazing meal afterwords or orders up a feast if he’s too spent to get up too, cuddled up in blankets watching a movie for the rest of the night afterwards.

[tartagliaxx]

“ DEMONS ”

━━ ☆ PAIRING: xiao/reader

━━ ☆ GENRE: hurt/comfort

━━ ☆ SUMMARY: love is staying.

━━ ☆ WARNINGS: none

a haunting melodic line— a hushed whisper that dripped of your skin painting you in various shades of black. you could feel him so close— taste the bitter wine of burden he carries in a fancy glass bottle. you shouldn't be drawn to this, shouldn't yearn for something so venomous. you shouldn't but you did. you wanted to drink all of it up, a side of you so greedy rising through the surface through your primitive desires.

it was a cold night, luscious sheets of darkness coating the world in a solitary embrace. if you looked closely you'd see palaces long-standing finally falling into ruin. that was why you were here. you're finally sent to conquer the conqueror. to claim his neck if only to stop the destruction he unwillingly stains on the fields begotten from war. it was a night of regret, truly, you didn't want to be there. you didn't want to be the dealer— didn't want to place his head in a guillotine with a soft lullaby but who were you to run away from your duties all out of lust and something in between?

gold dripped in the form of leaves, piling on the grass you stood on as you stared at the man you once knew to be strong. but after millennia of pain, who could blame him if he were to succumb to his heavy cross? he wasn't a saint, no, he was a murderer not far from your reality. maybe that was why you solemnly prayed for his redemption.

"xiao."

he couldn't look at you. there was an unseeable weight that held his head low. the guilt, the regret, the fear that once he did look at you, he'd see nothing but the reflections of disappointment. or perhaps he'll lose control again and ravage you like a beast thirsty for blood. that was what he was. a weapon of war, a relentless machine. but now in an era of relative peace, where should he run?

"go away."

nowhere it seems. there was no place for him in this lonesome world. he thought that maybe— maybe if he tried enough— if he set just the right amount of distance in between you two, he'd just be able to stay inside your embrace for a little while longer. a feeble dream perhaps as his binds began drawing out of him to shackle someone else. he knew it was time to leave—  to resume his parade in his avenue to hell.

"will you please just listen?"

"stop digging your grave and leave me be. i'll manage on my own."

"but i want to help—"

"and i don't want to hurt you."

you faltered— the animosity that leaked from him making you grimace out of pity. you knew better than to offer your sympathies. he was never one to enjoy being pitied but how could you watch him suffer from the pain he carries inside his memories with nothing but a blank gaze?

"xiao. i'm not leaving you alone."

your voice was as steady as stone. a decision long decided before this even came to be. you couldn't leave him straying far away from your heart.

"i know why you're here."

you flinched. you hoped he didn't. you really did.

"they want you to kill me. they think i've turned into a demon. they're not far from the truth."

"that's not true!"

"how can you be sure?" his voice was low and steady as he growled under his breath. all too suddenly, he was right in front of you, glaring with eyes that seemed to bleed off all of the world's hurt and malice.

"look into my eyes and tell me you still see salvation."

you flinched as a hand came up to your neck, pressing lightly not to strangle you but to remind you that he could if he wanted to. were you terrified? yes. your pulse hastened to a hundred miles per hour, body tingling— begging to run away because you felt nothing short of a helpless hare in the eyes of a predator. but love makes you dull and brightly colored at the same time. it makes you stay even when you should run away. it makes you throw caution into the wind as you raise your hand to cup his cheek, your blade long abandoned at your feet.

you couldn't do it. not even if you tried.

"what will they say if you came back with my head missing from your hands? you think they'd spare you? you think they'd let you wander around as if you didn't just sentence everyone to their demise?"

"i'd come back with your hand in mine or not at all."

"you're not afraid of death..." he breathed out as his hand slowly dropped down, lingering slightly on your beating heart before it fully went away.

"i am but i trust you. i've been close to you for years. i know you'd never hurt me."

"that was your mistake. you had allowed yourself to wander too close and now, you are being swallowed by my darkness. leave. perhaps there is still hope for you."

you shook your head. he had more chances of getting you to kneel before him in worship than he did with getting you to leave.

"you asked me if i see salvation in you and i do and even if i didn't, i'll still stay by your side."

"aren't you scared you'll be corrupted instead?"

"i told you i trust you and besides, i can take risks."

"you do know what happens to those who become enslaved to torment, right?"

"yes, and i'm glad it'll be you who'll keep me in check."

you longed for his touch but maybe, not through death. though if the time does come that it's your head that would be placed on the guillotine, then you'd be thankful that at least it was him who'll pull the trigger; at least you'll be with him until the end.

"well, i'm not. i don't want to see that ever happening so please, leave while i still have it in me to let you go."

"let me help you, xiao. i promise we'll be fine. look at me."

when his eyes finally met yours, he sighed. it was like the heavens were opening up, welcoming him to a distant paradise and at the helm of it all was your grace that saw light in him when no one else could, not even himself. you were smiling at him, beckoning him close and he wanted to save this image in his tumultuous mind until the end of his days.

no gold, no glory, no song would ever compare to the beauty of your next words that sent his head rushing, a familiar warmth and security encapsulating his being.

"will you kiss me?"

slowly, hesitantly, gently, sweetly— his lips touched yours in a maddening adventure. tongue intertwined, you explored each corner of his heated cavern as he did with yours. it was a midsummer fantasy in which you let go of your troubles for a measly second because all that mattered was his body pressed tightly against yours, beholding a thousand fireworks that erupted in rapid ephemeral bursts that fall short of any of its allure. staying like this with him was like walking barefoot in an evergreen field and you just prayed that your sentiments reached him.

"we'll be fine," you mumbled against his lips, and xiao allowed himself some leniency to believe that it would be.

━━ ☆ NOTES: i actually have a short in my queue that’s very similar to this one. i really enjoyed doing this because it gave me an opportunity to go to a different route from the one i already written. for the nonnie who requested this!! happy valentine’s mi amor!!