#THE SKY IS THE DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN?????

[allmightyscroll-swag]

HOLY SHIT?????

shivers

[rainbow-squirrels-7]

And three! Smiles go for miles!

(split under the cut for better viewing!)

[marejadilla]

Bella Ormseth, “Darkest Before the Dawn”, 2020, oil on cradled wood panel. Dutch artist.

“A group of mushrooms gather around a fallen mushroom. The setting is a garden at night. The starry sky shows the constellations above Minneapolis, just before midnight on May 25, 2020, the day George Floyd was killed. The North Star, Polaris, rises above the fallen mushroom.” Born in The Hague, Netherlands in 1968, now live and work on a small island in Puget Sound, near Seattle, WA.

[lightofraye]

The rain is gone, but the fierce winds remain. The sun is setting, the night will come.

But the dawn will return. The light will break through.

It’s always darkest before dawn.

[signanothername]

When the sky meets the earth

If you remember my Cloud Leo you’re a real one

Anyway now Flower Raph my beloved exists too >:) and after an entire talk I had about Raph and Leo’s relationship and their usual fights with a friend I just wanted to draw some soft big bro and lil bro art so here you go!

[goblin-king-jay]

"My darling paramour, my infernal flame, my Figueroth. I sent these meteors to you from the dawn of time when a rogue asteroid almost hit my dad's jet ski. Sundering the space rock with but a gesture of my most potent art, the debris surrounded me and with it came the sorrow of your absence. I sent these rocky chunks across the galaxy, and they have traveled since the beginning of time to tell you that I love you. In each moment of our mutual ignorance, where we had yet to meet, this message was already spinning its way to you through time and space to illuminate the night sky and tell you that I love you.

Us -- our love, like time, has been inevitable and strange. I have walked in its shadow joyfully. It gives me peace to know that in my darkest moments, my love for you was already on its way, flying through the stars. We have been on our way to save us since before the lights of our world were first lit. Pretty cool, my darling paramour.

P.S. I know you have another year of school after this. But I hope one day soon, you and I might travel amongst these stars together.

XOXO Ayda Aguefort

P.S. You are not gonna believe how much my dad spent on this jet ski."

[dinsbeskar]

In the Dark of the Night (Sauron/F!Reader)

Reader is long starved of her lover, after centuries apart, these are the fantasies that plague her in the night

Prequel: Wicked Game // Sequel: Evil Will Find Her

AO3 Link

Warnings: smut! 18+, female masturbation (reader), unprotected P in V sex, Sauron likes eating you out apparently?? Begging, praise kink, biting (only a little), kinda rough sex?? Lots of yearning, he absolutely adores you

A/N: I wrote this at 3am instead of sleeping, it is very much a "bashed it out and now I'm running away" type of fic. Is he there or isn't he?? Idk, it's up to you!! I imagined him as Annatar in this, but you're welcome to imagine any face you fancy, he is a shapeshifter after all!

There is an unending, seeking void in Middle Earth. You know it well, for it resides deep in your own being, hungry and desperate and vicious like a starved dog. It hadn't always plagued you, but after an age without your lover at your side, the void has filled the aching hole in your heart, tendrils of heavy nothing reaching out into the gloom of your bedchamber and threatening to engulf you whole.

It is in the black of night, when the darkest sky is overhead before dawn begins to break, that the void fills you the most. Sobbing has long ceased to ease your emptiness, so you lie in your feather bed, high in the elven city, and think of him, your lover's phantom figure nestled into you, fingers tracing your sides while whispers of sweet nothings pass between you. At least for a moment, you are not alone. Sometimes you swear you can hear him plain as day, your mind soothing your aching heart with memories of his scent pricking your nose as if he were right there beside you, holding you close as he used to, centuries ago. It is with those memories, those fantasies, that you think of him and touch yourself as he loved to, hand between your thighs, dancing across your chest, on your lips, needy for more.

He was quick to anger, and his wrath was nigh unchallenged, but never had you suffered it. The most gentle words and soft touches were reserved for you alone, revered and exalted in his bed, protected from the carnage his master had wrought on your kind. His soft hair grazing your face as he held himself over your trembling form, caressing every inch of you for the thousandth time as if it were the first.

You feel him next to you, on top of you, surrounding you, the smoky metallic smell of the forge permeating your bedsheets as if he'd spent these long, lonely centuries ravishing you. Your hand moves faster as you near your peak, biting back the deep moan in your throat as you picture him at the apex of your thighs, wicked tongue bringing you closer to your pleasure, tugging at your swollen clit and delving into your wet folds.

"All this for me?" You feel his smile against your mound as real as the pillow under your head. "My good girl, so ready for me, always so willing and waiting and wanting..."

His murmurs are lost to even your sensitive ears as he resumes his task, long fingers digging into your thighs so deliciously, nails dragging on your soft skin as you pull him closer, deeper, knowing he'd only beg if you refused him. Not that you ever would, at least not in jest, as you had many times before, just to see his hungry gaze grow dark and desperate. The games you used to play.

You slide a finger inside yourself, then another, always feeling him and only him, hearing him tease you as you whine for his cock.

"Good girls beg for it, my love. Are you my good girl?" You keen at his words and nod your head frantically, his fingers tracing your slit, dipping in and out at his pleasure, as he holds your gaze and fuels the fire pooling deep in your abdomen.

"Please... only yours, only for you..." Your words tumble from your lips, as a wolfish grin spreads across his handsome face.

His hands knead your flesh as he grasps your thighs to pull them apart, reverently taking in your dishevelled state, your blown pupils and swollen lips a masterpiece even Eru himself could not have imagined. His perfect creation, soft and pliant and oh so needy for him; any semblance of self control is lost as he takes his cock in hand and drives deep inside you with one thrust.

He steals every breath from your body with ravenous kisses that leave you clawing at his back, filthy wet sounds filling the air as he ruts into you, claiming every moan and whimper as a victory to his cause. You cry out his name, his real name, chanting it like a prayer, as he purrs in your ear. He pulls you apart with every touch, fingers raking through your hair, cursing in Black Speech as his orgasm approaches.

"I want to hear you, love, I need to hear you as I make you mine," he growls in your ear, low and deep, reverberating through you as he buries himself within you as if he means to never resurface.

You're only too happy to oblige, your moans unleashed from your throat as you no longer attempt to stay quiet, uncaring if anyone should hear you now. His name falls from your lips over and over as you plead for your release.

"I will make you my Queen, my love, and all Middle Earth will worship at your feet as I do," he praises you, his promises falling on deaf ears as you edge closer to what you crave.

He bites at the soft skin of your throat, licking the sheen of sweat that has collected thanks to his efforts, like a man starved of water at a desert oasis. The stretch of his cock inside you is almost too much but you take it so well for him, and he is a loving lord after all, one must be rewarded.

With one hand behind your head supporting his weight, his other hand travels from your swollen nipple downwards to your clit, circling the nub before pressing and stroking just as he has so many times before. He picks up the pace and slams his hips into yours, almost brutal in his all-consuming lust for his Queen.

You see stars and the world falls away, your walls clenching around him as he collapses onto you, the two of you entwined in body and enjoined in soul as you dissolve into pleasure, the spring that had so deliciously coiled deep in your belly finally releases, and he kisses you so sweetly you forget your own name.

As the first rays of sunlight peek through your window, you gasp, the spell broken. The bedsheets are rumpled and your fingers are wet, but the warm body that had encompassed your own only moments ago had vanished into the ether. The scent of the forge lingered long after in your nostrils, filling your heart once more with longing that could not be satisfied with one night's pleasure.

The yearning of the void was always present, and its black embrace was oh so tempting.

[sachaa-ff]

Aegon Targaryen x little sister Targaryen

Aegon was always very closed of his little sister Daeris, but when he was in aged to get married his mother the queen alicent decided to not choose Daeris for him, too afraid of what the both of them were capable..

Request are open 🫶🏼

Bound by fire

In the heart of the Red Keep, Aegon Targaryen often felt the weight of his crown pressing down on him, a reminder of the responsibilities and expectations that came with the throne. Yet, amidst the court’s scheming and whispers, there was one person who understood him completely: his younger sister, Daeris. From their earliest days, they had shared a bond that transcended the confines of royal duty, a connection forged in laughter and secret dreams.

As children, they often escaped the confines of the palace, sneaking into the gardens where the scent of blooming roses mingled with the promise of adventure. In those moments, they would share their hopes and fears, each confiding in the other as if they were the only two souls in a vast, uncaring world.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be free?” Daeris would ask, her voice barely above a whisper as they lay on the grass, the stars twinkling overhead.

“Every day,” Aegon would reply, a mix of yearning and longing in his gaze. “But we are Targaryens; our duty binds us to this throne, whether we like it or not.”

Yet even within the constraints of their noble lineage, Daeris’s laughter brought him solace. She had a way of finding light in the darkest corners, a gift that made the burdens of their heritage seem lighter, if only for a moment.

As they grew older, the shadows of their mother, Queen Alicent, loomed larger. Alicent’s ambitions for Aegon consumed her, and she often reminded him of the expectations placed upon him. “You must think of the realm, Aegon. Your duty is to your family and your crown,” she would insist, her voice both commanding and fearful.

Aegon understood his mother’s perspective but felt increasingly suffocated by her constraints. The pressure to conform to the expectations of a future king often drove him to seek solace in Daeris. Late at night, when the palace was quiet and the stars filled the sky, he would find her in the gardens, lost in thought.

“Daeris,” he would call softly, and she would turn, a smile breaking across her face that melted away his worries. “What are you thinking about?”

“About the future,” she would reply, her eyes sparkling with ambition. “What if we could change things? What if we could create a kingdom where love and strength prevail?”

He would draw her close, holding her tightly. “With you by my side, I believe anything is possible.”

But as the years passed and the responsibilities of kingship loomed nearer, the weight of their love became an unbearable secret. Alicent grew increasingly suspicious of their bond, fearing the power it could wield. “You must keep your distance, Aegon,” she warned. “The world will not accept what you share. It is a dangerous path.”

Despite her fears, Aegon felt an undeniable pull toward Daeris. Their moments together became more precious, their stolen glances filled with unspoken words. He cherished their shared laughter, the way her presence lit up his darkest days.

On the eve of his coronation, Aegon wrestled with his conflicting emotions. The throne was finally within reach, but the thought of ruling without Daeris by his side felt like a betrayal of everything they had dreamed of together. As he sat in his chambers, staring at the Iron Throne, he knew he had to make a choice that would change everything.

The day of the coronation dawned bright, but a storm brewed within Aegon. As he stood before the gathered lords and ladies of the realm, he felt the weight of their gazes, the expectation of his mother looming behind him. Yet, when he looked for Daeris, he saw her standing resolute among the crowd, her eyes filled with encouragement and love.

“My lords and ladies,” he began, his voice steady, though his heart raced. “Today marks not only the beginning of my reign but a new chapter for House Targaryen. I will not be the king who bends to fear or tradition. I will forge my own path.”

Alicent stepped forward, alarm flashing in her eyes. “Aegon, think carefully!” she implored, but he pressed on, unwavering.

“I hereby declare that Daeris, my sister, shall be my second wife.” His voice rang through the hall, and gasps echoed around him. The nobles were stunned, the tension palpable.

“Aegon, this is unwise,” Daeris whispered as she stepped forward, concern etched on her face.

“No,” he replied, determination surging within him. “It is time to embrace what we are. Together, we can unify this realm, harnessing the power of our bond. We will not be mere pawns in our mother’s game.”

The court held its breath as Daeris’s eyes widened. “But the consequences could be dire,” she cautioned. “The realm will never accept us..”

“Let them try,” Aegon said fiercely. “What we have is stronger than their fears. They will see that our union brings strength, not division. We can challenge the old ways and redefine the future of our house.”

As the silence stretched, Aegon felt a shift in the air, a subtle acknowledgment of their bond, a spark of acceptance that might just ignite a new path. Daeris looked deeply into his eyes, her trust in him unwavering.

“If this is what you truly want, I will stand by you,” she said softly, her heart racing with both excitement and fear. “We will face the storm together.”

With that, Aegon felt a rush of hope. The court remained silent, but he sensed a change, a ripple of acknowledgment that perhaps they could carve out their own destiny.

In the days that followed, their lives became a whirlwind of preparation and scrutiny. Aegon found himself navigating the political landscape, facing the pushback of nobles who could not fathom their union. Yet with each challenge, Daeris was his anchor. They would steal moments together, laughter echoing through the quiet corners of the palace.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Aegon found Daeris in the gardens, the light casting a golden glow around her. “You’ve been my strength through all of this,” he said, approaching her. “I don’t know how I would have faced the court without you.”

She turned, her smile warm and inviting. “We’re in this together, Aegon. We always have been. Our bond is stronger than any title or crown.”

Their hands found each other, fingers intertwining as they stood beneath the stars. “Do you ever think about what we dreamed of as children?” Aegon asked, his voice low. “A world where love could conquer fear?”

Daeris nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Every day. And now, it feels like we have the chance to make that dream a reality.”

As the days turned into weeks, Aegon and Daeris continued to face opposition, but they remained steadfast. They attended feasts and council meetings, presenting a united front to those who dared to challenge their bond. With every whispered threat and glimmer of disapproval, their love deepened, transforming into an unbreakable force.

One fateful evening, during a grand feast, an ambitious lord rose to speak against them. “This union is an abomination!” he declared, his voice dripping with disdain. “You will bring ruin to the realm!”

Aegon felt anger surge within him, but Daeris placed a calming hand on his arm. “Let me,” she whispered. He nodded, stepping back to allow her to speak.

Daeris stood tall, her voice steady and clear. “Our love does not weaken the realm; it strengthens it. Together, we embody the unity that this kingdom so desperately needs. We are Targaryens, and our bond is a testament to the strength of our house.”

Her words hung in the air, and Aegon watched as some nobles shifted uneasily, their expressions softening. They had seen the depth of her conviction, the way her spirit shone when she spoke of their shared vision.

“Aegon and I share more than blood,” Daeris continued, her eyes piercing through the tension in the hall. “We share a vision for a future where love and loyalty prevail. Together, we will build a realm that serves all, not just the privileged few.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Aegon felt a swell of pride for Daeris, knowing that her bravery was a reflection of their shared strength.

As the feast continued, whispers of approval began to ripple through the crowd. Aegon and Daeris exchanged a glance, the bond between them reaffirmed in that moment. They were not just siblings; they were partners in every sense, ready to face the challenges ahead.

In the weeks that followed, their relationship blossomed further. They spent evenings in the library, poring over ancient texts about their family history and the legacy they wished to create. Their discussions became fervent debates, laughter punctuating serious conversations as they envisioned a kingdom built on justice and love.

One night, as they studied a particularly ancient tome, Daeris leaned closer to Aegon, her hair brushing against his shoulder. “Do you ever feel like we’re meant to do this?” she asked softly, her breath warm against his skin. “To change the world?”

He turned to her, feeling the gravity of her words. “I do. With you, I feel like we can achieve anything. We are stronger together than apart.”

Daeris smiled, her expression radiant. “Then let’s not waste this chance. Let’s make the realm a better place, not just for us but for everyone.”

With each passing day, they plotted their reforms, improving the lives of the smallfolk, ensuring justice for the wronged, and uniting the divided houses of Westeros. Their shared ambition ignited a passion that made their bond deeper, a love that transcended mere sibling affection.

Yet, not all were supportive. As their popularity grew, so did the animosity from those who feared their union. A nobleman from a prominent house, feeling threatened by Aegon’s vision, began to rally dissenters, whispering poison into the ears of the court.

One evening, as Aegon and Daeris walked through the gardens, they overheard a group of nobles discussing their plans to undermine Aegon’s authority. Aegon’s jaw tightened, anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“We can’t let them get away with this,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “They’ll try to tear us apart.”

Daeris squeezed his hand, her gaze steady. “Then we must act swiftly. We can’t allow fear to dictate our future. We need to show them that our love is unshakeable.”

“Together,” he agreed, feeling the strength of her resolve fill him with determination.

Their strategy involved reaching out to the common folk, emphasizing that their union was a force for good. Aegon and Daeris began to hold public gatherings, inviting the smallfolk to speak and share their grievances. They listened intently, pledging to address their concerns and foster a more equitable kingdom.

One day, as they stood before a gathering crowd, Aegon spoke passionately about their vision. “We are Targaryens, but we are also your servants. We will fight for you, for your rights and your future. Our love will not just unite us; it will unite this kingdom.”

Daeris stepped forward, her voice clear and unwavering. “Together, we will build a realm where every voice is heard, where love is the guiding principle. We are here to serve, and we will not be afraid to challenge the status quo.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, their support invigorating. Aegon felt a surge of hope, knowing that with Daeris at his side, they could weather any storm. Their bond, once seen as a secret, now became a rallying cry for a new era.

But even as they garnered support, the forces against them grew more desperate. The nobleman, driven by his desire for power, orchestrated a scheme to undermine Aegon’s rule. He spread rumors of discontent and discord, painting Daeris as a puppet in Aegon’s grand plans.

One fateful night, as Aegon and Daeris were discussing their next steps in the library, the door burst open, and a group of nobles stormed in. “You have gone too far!” one of them shouted, eyes blazing with fury. “You threaten the very fabric of our realm!”

Aegon stepped protectively in front of Daeris, his heart racing. “You know nothing of our intentions. We are here to bring justice, not chaos.”

“Justice?” the nobleman scoffed. “You would tear apart the traditions that bind us together! Your love is an abomination that will ruin everything!”

Daeris stepped forward, her voice steady and resolute. “Our love is a strength, not a weakness. It represents hope for a future where fear no longer dictates our choices. We will not be silenced.”

Aegon’s heart swelled with pride as he watched her confront their enemies with such courage. “We will not cower before your threats,” he declared. “We will continue to fight for our vision, for our people, and for our love. And if we had to make the city burn of fire and blood with ours dragons then we will.. ”

The noblemen exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. The tension in the room was palpable, but Aegon and Daeris stood firm, their hands clasped together—a united front against the opposition.

Days turned into weeks as the political landscape continued to shift. Aegon and Daeris worked tirelessly to strengthen their alliances and garner support from the common folk. They held gatherings, inviting everyone to share their stories and concerns. The more they listened, the more their bond solidified, transforming into a shared mission.

One evening, as they sat together in the gardens, Aegon turned to Daeris, his expression contemplative. “Do you ever worry about the future? About what it might hold for us?”

Daeris looked up at the stars, her gaze thoughtful. “Of course. But I believe that as long as we have each other, we can face anything. Our love is our greatest weapon.”

He smiled, feeling the warmth of her words envelop him. “With you, I feel invincible. We can reshape this kingdom together.”

As they continued to face challenges, their relationship deepened. They became each other’s confidants, allies, and best friends, navigating the complexities of their roles while holding tight to the dreams they shared.

But their trials were far from over. The nobleman’s campaign to discredit them intensified, culminating in a grand council meeting where he sought to undermine Aegon’s rule publicly. “This union threatens the stability of our realm!” he exclaimed, his voice rising above the murmurs of the gathered nobles. “Aegon’s judgment is clouded by his infatuation with his sister!”

Aegon felt the room grow tense, but he stood tall, fueled by the strength of Daeris’s presence beside him. “My sister is not my weakness; she is my strength,” he countered, his voice unwavering. “Together, we will build a realm that serves all, not just the privileged few.”

Daeris stepped forward, her gaze fierce. “Our love does not diminish the Targaryen legacy; it enhances it. We are committed to serving this kingdom, to listening to the voices of the people, and to creating a future where all can thrive.”

The tension in the hall was palpable, but there were whispers of support among the gathered nobles. Aegon felt a surge of hope; perhaps they were beginning to see the truth of their union.

As the council meeting concluded, Aegon and Daeris emerged into the cool evening air, their hearts racing with adrenaline. “Do you think we reached them?” Aegon asked, his breath still heavy from the confrontation.

“I believe we planted a seed of doubt in their minds,” Daeris replied, her eyes bright with determination. “We must keep pushing forward. The more we show our commitment to the people, the harder it will be for them to oppose us.”

Over the following weeks, Aegon and Daeris’s efforts began to bear fruit. Their gatherings grew larger, and they garnered support from unexpected allies. The common folk began to rally behind their vision, inspired by the unity they represented.

One afternoon, as they stood in front of a cheering crowd, Aegon felt a wave of exhilaration. “This is just the beginning,” he announced, his voice ringing with conviction. “Together, we will create a kingdom where love conquers fear, where every voice matters, and where our bond will become a symbol of hope for all not just of war again Rhaenyra and her bastards..”

Daeris’s heart swelled with pride as she watched her brother inspire the masses. They were not just siblings; they were champions of a new era.

But as their popularity grew, so did the desperation of their enemies. The nobleman who had opposed them continued to plot against them, seeking to exploit any weakness in their armor. He spread lies and rumors, attempting to turn the tide of public opinion against them.

One evening, Aegon and Daeris returned to the palace after a successful gathering. They were met by a somber Alicent, who had been visibly distressed.

“Aegon, there are rumors spreading like wildfire,” she warned, her voice shaky. “They claim that your union with Daeris is a danger to the realm. The council is divided, and they’re calling for a vote to question your legitimacy as king.”

Aegon felt a surge of panic. “What do we do? We can’t allow this to escalate.”

Daeris stepped forward, her eyes steady. “We confront them. We need to show them that our love is not a weakness; it is our greatest strength. We will not be cowed by their fears.”

In the following days, they prepared for a crucial council meeting. Aegon and Daeris crafted a passionate speech together, drawing from their shared vision for the kingdom. As they rehearsed, Aegon felt a sense of unity enveloping them.

On the day of the meeting, the tension in the council chamber was palpable. Lords and ladies filled the seats, their faces a mix of curiosity and disdain. Aegon and Daeris stood together at the front, their hands clasped firmly.

“My lords and ladies,” Aegon began, his voice steady despite the weight of scrutiny. “Today, we stand united, not just as brother and sister, but as partners dedicated to the future of this kingdom. Our bond is a symbol of strength, not weakness.”

Daeris stepped forward, her eyes fierce and unwavering. “We will not allow fear to dictate our choices. Our love represents hope, a chance for this kingdom to thrive. Together, we can create a realm where every voice is heard and respected.”

As they spoke, Aegon could feel the energy in the room shift. Some nobles shifted uncomfortably, while others nodded in agreement. Aegon and Daeris’s passion was infectious, and he could see that their message was resonating.

But then, the nobleman who had opposed them rose, his voice cutting through the air. “This union is unnatural! It undermines the very foundation of our realm!”

Aegon felt anger rise within him, but Daeris squeezed his hand, grounding him. “We are not asking for your acceptance; we are demanding your respect,” she declared. “Love knows no boundaries, and our bond will only strengthen the Targaryen legacy.”

The room fell silent, and for a moment, Aegon felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps they could win this battle together.

After what felt like an eternity, the council voted. Aegon and Daeris stood side by side, hands intertwined, as the results were announced. A narrow majority supported them, and a wave of relief washed over Aegon.

As the meeting adjourned, Daeris turned to him, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “We did it! Together.”

Aegon pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the weight of their struggles lift momentarily. “This is just the beginning. We will continue to fight for our vision, for our people.”

In the following weeks, they faced renewed challenges, but their bond only grew stronger. Aegon and Daeris worked tirelessly, implementing reforms and listening to the concerns of the people. They became a force for change, their love inspiring hope throughout the realm.

Yet, even as they forged ahead, the specter of opposition loomed large. The nobleman, humiliated by their victory, grew increasingly desperate. He began to plot a more dangerous scheme, one that would put everything Aegon and Daeris had built at risk.

One fateful night, as Aegon and Daeris prepared to retire, a loud crash echoed through the halls. Aegon instinctively moved to protect Daeris, his heart racing. “Stay behind me,” he instructed, his voice firm.

As they stepped into the hallway, they were met by a group of armed men, their faces obscured by masks. The nobleman’s voice echoed through the shadows. “You’ve gone too far, Targaryens! It’s time to end this madness!”

Aegon’s heart raced as he drew Daeris close, their bond providing strength in the face of danger. “You will not harm us!” he shouted, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him.

“Your reign ends tonight!” the nobleman hissed, his eyes filled with rage.

Daeris stepped forward, her expression fierce. “You underestimate us. Our love is a force that cannot be extinguished. We will fight for our future, no matter the cost.”

In that moment, Aegon felt the fire of determination ignite within him. They were more than siblings; they were warriors, united against the darkness threatening to tear them apart.

With a surge of adrenaline, Aegon charged forward, leading Daeris into the fray. Together, they fought back against their attackers, a whirlwind of strength and determination. They were not alone; the guards had been alerted, and soon the hall was filled with the sounds of clashing steel and cries of defiance.

As the battle raged, Aegon caught a glimpse of Daeris, her fierce spirit shining through as she defended herself with unwavering resolve. They moved in sync, each protecting the other, their bond forged in fire.

Finally, as the dust settled, the last of the attackers were subdued. Aegon turned to Daeris, breathless and exhilarated. “We did it!”

She nodded, her eyes bright with fierce determination. “We are stronger than they realize. Together, we can face anything.”

With their enemies vanquished, Aegon and Daeris emerged from the shadows, their love unbreakable, their resolve fortified. They would not allow anyone to tear them apart. They would forge ahead, side by side, as champions of a new era—a reign built on love, strength, and unwavering commitment to their people.

As they stood together, the weight of their shared struggles felt lighter. The future was uncertain, but Aegon knew that as long as they faced it together, there was nothing they could not overcome.

Their love had become a force of its own, inspiring hope across the realm and solidifying their place in history as not just a king and queen, but as beacons of change for all of Westeros.

[lilac-5ky]

always darkest before the dawn (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

plot: your boyfriend finds you waiting on his porch after a mission you warned him against going.

tags: hurt/comfort with a silly ending cause I'm silly for this man.

wc: 2.4k

“Baby? What are you still doing up?”

The sound of his voice gets amplified with every step he takes toward the dim-lit engawa, a pleasant break from the incessant chirping of the cicadas slowly being traded for that of the first morning sparrows—midnight sky melting into the lightest shades of blue. Stars are sprinkled over the velvet canopy like powder sugar, a subtle bronze haze dividing the horizon from the heavens above, and you almost thank them for sending their most exalted angel your way.

He comes alive again—wings heavy from the blood that soaks them, its source hardly human.

The knitted blanket slides off your shoulders as you turn around to face Satoru, his otherwise sublime features wearier and more haggard than you remember seeing them this morning by your pillow. He carries a bag in each hand, his apology wrapped in layers upon layers of aluminum foil. You wonder what it tastes like. Last time was gyoza, and the time before that drunken noodles—always accompanied by some sort of dessert from some faraway corner of the map, which he (typically) promises to revisit with you.

“Welcome home.” You sigh, mustering a smile to distract him from the dried-up tears that stain the apples of your cheeks.

It was a long night, and his absence stretched it to eternity. You realized after he left for his mission that forever is a long time to be spent alone, especially when the last words you said to him echo harder than the cumbersome footsteps of his departure, scaring you into thinking that was the last you heard of each other.

No one ever told you that being with the strongest meant becoming stronger yourself.

It’s not fair.

He doesn’t miss the opportunity to call you weak, making a habit of teasing you when your puny arms fail to carry his excessive haul of grocery bags or when you can’t open a mere jar of jam without him loosening the cap beforehand. He doesn’t admit you are stronger than him, despite you being the one to carry his burden and your worries, the two brewing into a sickly cocktail of premonition you can barely stomach—one that initiated today’s fallout.

You feel wronged. Your roles were reversed against your will; the comfort of being the weak one viciously yanked from your grasp, feet forcefully put into a pair of shoes you were never meant to wear. You should be weak. He should be strong. You should be crying, and he should be comforting. You should be able to tell him, don’t go, and he should be able to stay.

But you didn’t. And he did not.

Unaffected by the war of contradictory motions in your head, Satoru plops down beside you, large palms emptying of the cheap plastic handles to fill up with you. The thrill of the fight still hasn’t worn out, muscles taut from the action, and eyes bright under their concealment. He feels warm, warmer than the blanket that’s now receded to your thighs, though not warm enough to appease the cold in your heart, goosebumps prickling your skin from the inside out like your body is trying to escape itself.

A lump forms in your throat from where his lips touch your neck, briefly and fleetingly, before they are replaced with the familiar fluff of hair. It’s ironic how he tries to fit in you. There isn’t a part of you that hasn’t been touched by him in one way or another, and if you could pull out your own guts to make more space for him, then you would. You’d let him consume you whole if that meant never spending a second without him.

You wonder if that’s how love is supposed to be. You aren’t sure. You don’t know if you’re just another person who foolishly let themselves worship Gojo Satoru—if, in your effort to get to know the real him, you became his biggest fan.

“You are abnormally quiet.” You point out, instantly hating how ragged your voice sounds. The only dissonance in the picturesque garden of his estate.

Satoru shifts in his position, heavy jaw rubbing sweetly against your bare shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck. “I’m just mimicking you.”

“Mimicking me?” A bit better this time.

“Mhm.”

You glance at him, following the curve of his nose down to the dip of his cupid’s bow, both highlighted under the waning moonlight. Even when the stars are slowly drained and those flattering shadows dispelled, his beauty remains a certain constant. He is so beautiful that your heart aches, a longing sigh caught at the far back of your palate, his soft smile begging for its release.

He won’t hear you say it. Not tonight.

You test out the waters with a teasing poke of your tongue. He does the same, mouths almost touching with how closely he leans forward. Then a pout. A scrunch of the nose. An unserious wiggle of his eyebrows that mirrors your own—an image far more perfect than the one you’re used to seeing in the mirror.

“Would you jump down a cliff if I did?” You taunt.

“Absolutely!” He breaks the loop, answering in less than a heartbeat. “You know I would. The world would be a horrible place without my sugarplum.”

“You know, you could save us both if you wanted.” You say with a level voice.

“The greatest love stories are sealed by tragedy.” Satoru argues back. “Romeo and Juliette. Jack and Rose. Orihime and Hikoboshi. Takeru and Hikari.”

You are quick to spot the odd one out. “First of all, stop sneaking in Digimon references thinking I won’t notice, and second of all, Takeru and Hikari didn’t die.”

“No, but they never got together.” He frowns.

You roll your eyes. “You are unbelievable.”

“And you’re soooo pretty. Did you do something to your face? Your dark circles look extra dark tonight.” Satoru tries to catch your cheek in his palm, fine sand slipping through his fingers as you pull away.

“Shut up!” Your mixed chuckles course through your body, reigning over the tremors that previously had you shriveling into a ball of tightly packed limps. Staying mad at him is impossible when he’s actually there; all mood for poignancy gone in an instant.

“You never answered my question.” A featherlight hum brushes against the shell of your ear, the pout easy on his tone. “What are you still doing up?”

With a knowing smile, you peer at the sky, feeling the press of his cheek on yours as he follows the movement of your eyes. “Whenever I miss you, the only thing that calms me is looking at the sky.”

“You know I’m not dead, right?”

“Say one more stupid thing, and that will change!” You warn with your pointer up. He kisses it. God.

You tap your finger against his forehead, urging some distance be put between the two of you. “Whenever I look at the sky,” you start again, “I see you.”

Breaking from his embrace, you shape two circles with your thumbs and forefingers, narrowing their size until they turn into a pair of minuscule goggles you lower over to where his eyes supposedly lie behind the blindfold. “See? Just like your eyes.”

“Oh, I’m not too sure about that.” Satoru gazes at the sky through your fingers, eventually tipping in your direction. He smirks, “I mean, the eyes of the Gojo Satoru are kinda hard to beat. See?”

Peeling the blindfold off, he lets your palms spread over his cheeks, azure eyes losing their vibrancy as your dainty fingers frame them better than any pair of sunglasses in his collection. He’s right. The original cannot compare. It’s not Satoru’s eyes that resemble the sky. It’s the sky that resembles his eyes, for in his 28 years, he’s managed to make something as ancient as time itself seem like a cheap rip-off.

“But I am flattered.” Warm palms cushion yours as he brings them to his mouth. You don’t realize how frigid they are until he starts blowing the cold away, smiling against them. “Means I’m always on your mind with how often your head’s in the clouds.”

“Can’t go one minute without bringing me down, huh?” Your voice frail once more.

“I can. But where’s the fun in that?”

You pull each other into a gentle kiss, Satoru’s arms snaking around your waist while your fingers cup his cheeks with urgency, fearing that by the time your eyes blink open, he’ll already have faded into stardust. He doesn’t share your concern, soft pecks interrupted by muffled chuckles, the taste on his lips giving you an idea of what he brought home with him.

“Pancakes?” Your tongue drags against his bottom lip. Foreheads pressed against one another.

“Mhm. Figured you’d be hungry for breakfast at this ungodly hour.” Satoru pecks your lips again and again, making it impossible to think straight, let alone answer, given how often your mouths are smashed together.

“How did you know I’d be up?” You breathe out.

“Hmm, a premonition?” He grins, playing with fire with how he mocks your previous words of concern. “My six eyes—”

“Do your six eyes tell you that you’ll be smacked in three, two, one!”

Limitless activates before your forehead can ram into his skull, the number of times you bob your head futile.

“One of these days, my anger will outdo your technique.” You promise.

“Can’t wait for that!” Satoru beams earnestly. “Maybe then I can teach you about domains too. Make my baby into the best—well, second-best sorcerer.”

Truly impossible.

The world quiets down as the final veil of the night is lifted from the sky and dawn begins its dance, everything it touches slowly coming into life. Light seeps between the yellowing grass blades, illuminating the morning dew that rests upon them. Water sparkles as it pours from the bamboo fountain, the constant thump setting the tempo for the birds’ song. Fragrance is drawn out of the towering pine trees, grounding the elegance of the showy blue hydrangeas. No room for despair in this imagery of hope, complete with Satoru’s presence, white lashes fluttering shut as he stretches like a cat in the sun.

You love him.

You know you do. You mean it every morning and every night when he makes you say it in between chuckles, slender fingers tickling the admission out of your ribs. You mean it when he moves heaven and earth to fulfill a stupid promise you made at 4 AM when you were drunk out of your mind and he tucked you into the comfort of your shared bed—somehow less sober without a drop of alcohol in his system.

You mean it when there’s sand in his eyes, when his breath doesn’t smell as peachy as one would expect of someone as ridiculously perfect as him, when his voice cracks during a sing-along. You mean it when his tongue licks the luscious coffee cream from your lips and when it greedily laps between the puffy lips down under.

There is so much you love about him that you’d run out of synonyms for words before you could jot them all down in a way that’s not dull to read, and still, you’d lose out on describing how exactly he makes you feel.

Because Satoru isn’t a person, so much as he is art. Sometimes he is just splash of colors across a canvas without the masterful strokes needed to hone him into a finished product. Other times, he is just the notes composing the wonderful lilt of his voice, too audacious to be deemed a symphony. He can be poetry too, spilling out of the ordinary 17-syllable arrangement of a haiku. But most of all, he is raw energy, an untamed torrent ripping through mountains and a whirlwind sweeping everything in its path.

It’s hard not to romanticize him in moments like this. They don’t come too often.

“You know, you don’t need tragedy to write a good love story.” Your tendency to break the silence festers into a bad habit. “We might be doomed by the narrative, but we are here to live. I’d rather live with you than die with you, or live a life without you.” You whisper, voice getting caught in your throat.

Sincerity always scared you, but if there’s one thing more regrettable than words you’ve said, then that’d be words that were never told.

Your focus shifts to your dangling feet, grass grazing your toes at the completion of each nervous sway. You are no longer touching. Not purposely at least, contact reduced to the slight nudge of your shoulders as Satoru leans against his to smile.

“Gotcha.” He says, not quite pressuring you to face him just yet. “It was easy-peasy, by the way. Yuji and Nobara did most of the work, while Megumi—he fell inside a curse’s stomach. It was hilarious! You should visit them soon; see how my kids have grown.”

Your lips pucker their way around your mouth, tongue poking at your cheek from the inside—prelude to a slow nod. Too uncertain to be directed at him. You regret bringing this up. You should’ve let yourself bask in his affections when they didn’t require a verbal answer.

“You worry too much.” Your uneasiness prompts Satoru to crane his neck and lay a tender kiss on the crown of your head. His voice serious when he says, “I won’t die.”

“That’s what everyone says right before they die.”

“But I’m not everyone. I’m Gojo Satoru, and I won’t die.”

You gulp, then huff a forced chuckle. “H-hey, that’s a pretty good catchphrase. You should use it in your fights when you’re about to deal the killing blow.”

“I have a better one. I’m Gojo Satoru, and I love youuuu~” He sings, seconds before his lips attack your neck, deft fingers mercilessly tickling your sides against the hard wood.

“God! You are so corny!” You blurt in between giggles.

“You love it!” He protests, a wild glint to his eyes. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Say it.”

“N-no way!”

“No?” The sadist stops his torture, finding new ways to torment you as he slyly moves toward the forgotten takeout. “Guess I’ll be enjoying these myself then. Thank me for the food!”

“Hey, Satoru! Wait!” You concede.

Maybe it’s fine to let him stand on the podium alone this once.

a/n: my mood is all over the place nowadays, suffering writer's block, wrote this as a self-indulgent 5 AM craze, help satoru brainrot too strong

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III. "Trust Me, He's In Good Hands."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

As the calendar flips to September, so arrives Autumn, the season of change. And change will always come, whether it is welcome or not.

Warnings: Language, Grief, Minor Bucky Injury, Mention of Medical Treatments/Devices, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [fingering, handjob, semi-public play] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: In case you missed it, there was a head cannon produced as a semi-interlude for just how Bucky 'took care of himself' after their moment on the bench. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6486

-------------------------

“Think you took a wrong turn back there, Bucky…” You raised an eyebrow, glancing over your shoulder as he continued driving further and further away from your quarters, navigating the jeep, instead, towards the control tower.

After nearly a week of chauffeuring you and your rapidly healing leg around Thorpe Abbotts, you were more than confident that he knew his way from your quarters to the mess to the control tower and back. This was most certainly a detour from the normal route.

When your comment was met with silence, you turned to look at him curiously, only to see the profile of his mischievous grin as he worked a fresh stick of gum between his molars, a pair of aviator sunglasses concealing his eyes even in the rapidly darkening twilight.

A plethora of fresh cuts and abrasions adorned his face from that day’s mission to Stuttgart – nearly 1,300 miles round trip. Flying in the second group of the day, the Luftwaffe and ground forces had been more than ready for them. Resistance had been heavy, though their drop was still considered a success, the first group’s had been a disaster. Bucky had been putting on his usual good humor since his return to the Operations Room, though his kisses in the custodial closet had been a little more frenetic than usual. His hold on you a little tighter than after previous missions.

For your part, you had wound yourself around him as tightly as a vine of ivy, the loss of your brother still terribly fresh and barely scabbed over. A scab that you had to fight the urge to pick at in the darkest hours of the night while your hut mates slept the sleep of the ungrieved. It was easier to set your hurts aside in the daylight, or in Bucky’s presence, as the man himself might as well have been the sun personified. Yet there was something changed about him today.

“Bucky?” You prompted softly as he reached the control tower and hung a right to begin driving out along the runway.

“Wanna show you the stars, doll.” He murmured quietly, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head, his cap tossed carelessly on the seat between you, as darkness finally conquered the sky.

“Alright.” You whispered, setting your hand on his knee slowly while he drove to the very end of the asphalt before veering off into the tall vegetation that brushed against the sides of the vehicle.

As he cut the engine, the silence of the field settled in around the pair of you, so far removed from the crews diligently working on planes parked on their hardstands – there was another mission tomorrow, they would do their very best to get as many as possible back into service by dawn. But this far out, it felt like it you were perhaps the only two people in the entire world just then. Tilting your head back to look up at the sky, you pulled your cap from your head to watch the stars begin to wink into light against the deep blue velvet night, a smile tugging at your lips.

“They are beautiful.” You breathed reverently, rolling your head to the side to look at him fondly.

“Yeah.” He murmured in agreement, though your heart clenched as you found his eyes focused squarely on you rather than the constellations above.

His hand settled over yours where it still rested on his leg, fingers threading between yours, squeezing tightly, and you leaned in with the intention of pressing your lips to his. Bucky met you halfway, tilting his head to the left to slot his lips against yours firmly. The taste of spearmint flooded your mouth and your tongue darted forward the pilfer the still-supple piece of gum from its hiding place against his cheek, tucking it against your own as his body shook with laughter. Your responding grin made it difficult for either of you to continue the kiss and so Bucky dropped his mouth to your neck, fingers abandoning yours to begin tugging at your necktie and the buttons of your collar to reveal more of your skin to his greedy lips.

“Bucky…” You sighed, sliding your liberated hands into his hair, wantonly holding him to your throat.

Your eyes fell shut as you shivered eagerly, each exhale shaking as it left your mouth in response to the damp, open-mouthed kisses he painted across your skin. The brush of his moustache provided a wicked contrast in sensations. He hummed approvingly against you, arms snaking around your hips as he shuffled the pair of you further onto the passenger’s side of the bench seat, farther away from the interference of the steering wheel.

Bucky’s fingers tugged at the buttons on your uniform jacket, parting the offending fabric so his broad hand could slide beneath to cup one of your breasts, kneading at the tender flesh over the thinner fabric of your shirt. Arching with a needy whimper, you pulled gently on his dark locks until he tipped his head back, lips kiss-stung as he looked up at you, eyes barely focused. Lunging forward, you kissed him thoroughly as he continued his sweet torment, making your hips undulate against the seat needily, desperate for any friction you might find.

You mewled in protest when his hand left your chest, pressing your face against his cheek as he tutted teasingly.

“Easy doll, I won’t leave you hanging.”

His hand slid to your left knee, fingers cupping the back of it as he gently guided your leg to hook over his right, spreading your legs open to the rush of cool night air. Instinctively, you rolled your right leg inward to close the gap, but his hand slid between your inner thighs, keeping them apart.

“Wait.” He whispered, stroking his slightly calloused fingers against the soft skin he had found there, knuckles rasping against the opposite thigh. “Let me make you feel good.”

Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you shuddered slightly before relaxing your right leg, letting your knee fall against the frame of the jeep as you shuffled your hips forward consentingly.

Sweeping ever higher along your inner thigh in slow, smooth circles, you still jumped slightly as Bucky’s palm came to rest over your underwear, breath hitching in your throat to feel the heat of his skin seeping through the thin material.

“Damn, you’re so warm.” His breath fanned across your cheek as he spoke, heel of his palm applying just the right amount of pressure to the place that had you seeing constellations of your own behind your eyelids.

“Bu…cky…” You keened his name, pronunciation disjointed and clumsy as his fingers worked at tracing your folds across the rapidly dampening fabric.

“I know, I know.” He rasped, sounding almost pained as he shifted his hips.

Forcing your eyes open, you recognized the same need in his movements that had, just moments before, laced your own. You swallowed roughly to gather your courage before allowing your hand to drop to his lap. The gasp that escaped you at the sheer pressure of him against his fly was drowned out by his harsh, half-swallowed moan. Pressed temple-to-temple, you inhaled sharply as his eyes flicked to yours, boring into them at close range as you began to work your palm along the shape of him through his trousers, applying what you could only hope was the right amount of friction.

“Goddamn you’re not going to be satisfied unless I cum, are you?” He huffed and tilted his jaw forward to nip at your lower lip.

Your brow furrowed in thought as the verbiage of that sentence did not quite compute, though it very well could have been as a result of his diligent attentions between your thighs.

As if sensing your confusion, Bucky began throwing out alternative words like a thesaurus while he gradually began to ease your underwear to one side. “Finish, climax, release, orgasm…what you did so prettily all over my thigh and what I’m going to make you do again right–”

“Fuck…” You squeaked as his fingers found the bare skin of your folds, hips jerking both towards his touch and away from the intensity of it all at once.

“Here.” He finished his thought, temple pressing against yours once more, fingertips rapidly growing slick with your desire before they delved to find your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Jesus Christ, Bucky!” You gasped out, bucking sharply and most definitely toward his hand this time.

“You talk to your Captain with that mouth, doll?” He teased with a broad grin, teeth flashing white in the darkness.

“Mmm fuck…” You whimpered, nearly incoherent as he expertly worked your body like he had known it longer than you.

“Spending far too much time around soldiers, doll.” He continued to tease you, making your nostrils flare stubbornly as you summoned the very last of your wits to attack his fly, wanting him to suffer equally under the exquisite torture of pleasure he was inflicting upon you. “Whoa there what a–” His words died on his lips as your persistent, delving hand worked its way into his trousers and then past the waistband of his boxers to wrap around the steely length of him.

A ragged groan cut through the night air before his mouth crashed into yours, a slight clacking of teeth before he recovered his usual finesse. There was a beguiling slickness gathered at the tip but otherwise the skin covering the swollen hardness of him was the softest you had ever felt. However, now that you had seized your prize, you were not entirely certain what to do with it. Bucky’s large left hand wrapped itself around yours, beginning to guide you through a pumping motion up and down the length of him that filled your mouth with his moans and sped the pace of his right hand against you.

Wrenching your lips back from his to gasp for breath, you pressed your forehead against his once more, your exhales becoming his inhales. Tugging the gusset of your underwear further from your body, he made more space for his hand, settling the heel of his palm against the apex of your pleasure as his index finger began to circle your entrance.

“Fuck you’re so wet…” He huffed, dipping the pad of his finger into your slick.

“Mnnph!” You vocalized nonsensically, swiping your thumb across the source of his own slickness, collecting fresh beads of moisture to ease the motion of your fist around him. “You, too.” You panted.

Hot breath cascading down the gaping collar of your shirt was his only response, and being a quick study, you were certain to repeat that motion at the top of each pull, despite how difficult it was becoming to think straight. Particularly as he sank his index finger into your eager body, the feeling foreign yet not unwelcome, especially when he began to thrust said finger at a pace that matched your own hand around him.

A fleeting concern passed through your mind, of what sort of vulgar display the pair of you were currently presenting to the very heavens that you had driven out here under the pretext to admire, but it could not compete for you attention as Bucky added a second finger to your wet heat. Your hips moved in time with his fingers, of their own volition, and you were so focused on driving the pair of you towards your own heaven that you were barely taking in enough oxygen.

“Doll I’m gonna…fuck…I’m gonna cum…” Bucky growled, though there was the distinct edge of a whine to it.

“Yes.” You exhaled enthusiastically as you fully understood the statement this time. “Yes, Bucky go on I want you to, please.” You babbled, no longer completely in control of your faculties.

His left hand quickly abandoned yours to yank his uniform jacket and shirt higher on his torso as his hips slammed into your fist several times before, with a hoarse shout, a tremendous amount of fluid was released across his lower abdomen, dripping onto your hand. You watched with a slack jaw, very much wishing you could see the intricacies of his pleasure more clearly than the dark of night would allow, but nevertheless mightily pleased to have brought it about.

As his right hand stilled inside your underwear, you mistakenly assumed he was utterly spent, would not have minded at all if that were the case, and began to straighten your uniform.

“Oh, hell no, I’m not finished with you.” His fingers lurched into motion, pace somehow doubled as they scissored and curled inside you.

Left hand, now freed, settled over your right breast as he turned fully to devour the noises his renewed attentions wrung from your trembling body. You could feel your walls beginning to clench around his fingers, your thighs pressing together as the tension within you rose to its crest before shattering in a rush of ecstasy that had you clawing at his uniform jacket as you writhed beneath him.

Pulling back only once you had stopped wailing down his throat, Bucky smirked a little as he licked his lips. “That’s better.” Settling back onto the seat beside you, he carefully pulled his fingers from your still-shaking body to lick them clean, closing his eyes slowly. “Next time, I’m going to eat you alive, doll…”

Slumping against his shoulder all you managed by way of reply was a weak, “Uh huh.”

Bucky pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head before pulling a utilitarian handkerchief from his pocket, wiping your hand before roughly wiping himself clean. He brusquely restored order to his uniform before very tenderly doing the same with yours.

“Need a few more minutes?”

“Mmm we should get back.” You frowned, leaning in to peck his lips softly. “If my legs still aren’t working, I’ve got the crutches at least.”

A confident grin unfurled across his features as he slid back behind the wheel, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you snug into his side before he began the drive back to your quarters. Absent-mindedly, you retrieved the stolen piece of gum from the corner of your cheek and folded an air bubble into it before cracking it against your teeth, slowly feeling the capacity to control your limbs returning.

Pulling up in front of your hut, he turned to you with a smirk. “You stole my gum.”

You looked to him slowly before shooting him a wink. “Guess you’ll have to steal it back.” You would have kissed him goodnight, given him the chance to do so right then, if not for the crunch of footsteps on the gravel drive behind you. “Goodnight Major Egan.” You said as you straightened quickly, putting a great deal of distance between you as you slid to the other side of the jeep before climbing out.

Fetching your crutches from the back, you were slowly making your way inside when you heard him address the unknown individual.

“Captain Miller.”

“Major Egan, whatever has become of your cap, sir?” Her voice was cold and shrill as usual.

“Got it right here Ma’am.” You heard him reply, though her hum of disapproval, one that was all too familiar to the WACs, did not bode well for the state of it.

“It seems rather worse for wear, sir. Might want to try and remedy that before Colonel Harding gets a look at it. Goodnight.”

Risking a glance back over your shoulder you frowned to see how horribly crumpled the thing had become – surely a victim of your star-gazing trip gone astray. Bucky, for his part, only sent you a broad smile as Captain Miller continued on into the night and you waved to him before ducking inside to face the firing squad of your expectant-faced friends.

The early days of September continued to be busy with crews from the 100th flying the following morning, the 7th, and then receiving a day’s rest. There was no real rest for you on the 8th, however, as the field order for Operation Starkey, set for the 9th, arrived late in the day, sending the Operations Room into a frenzy. Bucky had appeared at the usual time to drive you to the mess for dinner and all you could spare was an apologetic look before he was snagged by Colonel Harding. Set to be the largest operation of the war to date, you were up quite late ensuring everything was in place, unsurprised that Harding had ordered Bucky to bed to rest up – that only meant one thing. He would be flying tomorrow.

The target was an airfield just outside Paris, mercifully not another foray deep into Germany, but the customary knot that settled into your stomach seemed to twist all the more acutely this time. Making your way down the stairs on your crutches, bearing a little more weight on your ankle now, on Doctor McLean’s instructions, you were surprised to find Captain Miller waiting for you at the door.

“Good evening, Lieutenant. I was hoping to catch you alone.”

“Ma’am.” You juggled your crutches awkwardly in order to salute her, doing your best to keep the confusion and concern from your voice.

She began the walk towards the barracks at a slow pace, allowing you make your way alongside her as she spoke. “I’ve received orders this afternoon from Pinetree that effective September 10th you will be transferring there as a member of their Operations staff.”

Your head whirled to look at her angular profile, her hair perfectly smooth beneath her cap, as she delivered this devastating news as though it had as much effect on your life as the fact that it might rain later. The bottom of your left crutch snagged into the gravel and dug awkwardly into your armpit, sending you stumbling forward. Somehow you managed not to fall flat upon your face, but all you could croak in response was a pathetic, “Ma’am?!”

Miller eyed you a moment, presumably ensuring your stability before she resumed both her speech and her progress towards your quarters. “Your work is impeccable, you should not be surprised that you have been given this opportunity, Lieutenant. I suggest you begin packing. I will see you to the station myself morning after next.”

Nodding, speechless, you continued to shuffle after her. Pinetree – code name for the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force, located in some village just north of London. Quite a ways away from Thorpe Abbotts. Away from Vi and Mary and Ruth – your constant companions through your entire time with the WAC. Away from Bucky. Your throat clenched painfully as you desperately tried to swallow, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

‘Christ, please not in front of the dragon-lady…hold it together girl.’ You chastised yourself and straightened your back, clenched your jaw, willfully keeping an iron grip on yourself.

By the grace of everything holy she kept silent for the rest of the walk, pausing in front of your hut. “This is a good thing, Lieutenant. Now rest up, big day tomorrow.” Miller nodded firmly and you shared a salute before she continued on her way.

Taking a shaking breath, you crept inside, leg aching from the walk, throat aching from smothered emotion. The rest of the occupants were all sleeping, oblivious to your plight, and you miraculously managed to keep it that way, sliding into your cot at last to allow silent tears to roll down your cheeks. You should have used those four hours to rest before waking early, knowing Bucky would still insist on driving you to the mess and then the Control Tower before his flight, but sleep was about as friendly with you as Captain Miller that night.

As your alarm clock went off, and Vi hurled a pillow at you for the insult of vicariously waking her with it as well, you were quite convinced you had not managed a minute of sleep. Running through your morning routine like some kind of robot, you began to make your way toward the mess, smiling weakly even as your heart wrenched beneath your ribs to hear his jeep pull up beside you.

“Morning, doll.”

“Morning, Bucky.” You sighed, turning to him, afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid he might be able to see right through you, and not wanting to burden him with this impending separation right before he went up. “You go on ahead, I know you’re busy…”

“Doll, please don’t hit me, but what time did you get to bed last night? Get in the jeep.”

Despite yourself, despite the yawning dread in your gut, you still felt a laugh bubble up your throat. Perhaps not to the usual brightness he would have earned, but Bucky was still able to earn it.

“Late.” You sighed, surrendering your crutches to the back of the jeep, sliding in beside him. “But clearly, I need to put on a better face. ‘A WAC should never appear tired or distressed.’” You quoted one of your instructors from Fort Des Moines.

He huffed with a playful roll of his eyes as he put the vehicle into motion. “As far as I’m concerned doll, you’ve more than done your duty for this mission.”

You looked to him curiously, brain sluggish without any food to fuel it yet.

“‘Release a man for combat.’” He glanced at you with a wicked grin as he quoted the former WAC slogan, the one that had been in use before your superiors had truly understood the connotations of such a statement, and your jaw dropped as you felt heat paint its way down your neck.

“John Clarence Egan.” You hissed in half-hearted admonishment, shaking your head as a grin snuck its way onto your features in spite of it all. Sighing deeply as, after mere moments with him, you already found your mood much improved. “I’m gonna m–” Quickly slapping your hand over your mouth lest you admit to more than you were prepared to at this time of day, you feigned a yawn which made him chuckle under his breath as he pulled up in front of the mess.

“Maybe need a nap?” He finished mischievously and you just nodded, leveraging yourself out of the jeep, still feeling sore after your long walk to bed last night. “I’ll see you after briefing.”

“You don’t have to, Bucky I can make it just fine, you’re busy.”

“That wince you just failed to hide says otherwise, doll. I’ll see you in an hour or so.” He eyed you sternly and you gulped painfully, already feeling quite lost at the idea of being separated from him.

“I’m going to start walking if you’re late.” You tried a small smile on for size, preparing yourself to enter the mess with a pleasant look on your face.

“I’ll find you!” He threatened as he pulled away slowly, careful not to kick up any gravel in your direction and all you could do was shake your head fondly.

You were doomed.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, the few already up this early only present for the sake of fuelling their bodies and not really seeking conversation. Burying your nose in a book that you could not even manage to read one sentence of, you lasted all of forty-five minutes before your nerves got the better of you and insisted on action rather than wasting time while you waited for Bucky to be ready. Gritting your teeth against the protest in your joints, you began making your way down the road toward the Control Tower, needing very much to be useful else you might simply drown in the complexity of your emotions.

Regardless, you would need to get used to being independent once more. Pinetree, or High Wycombe as it was properly known on a map, would not have a private chauffer awaiting you. It remained to be seen how much distance you would need to cover in your daily duties and there was no time like the present to start practicing. You were almost halfway there when Bucky pulled up alongside, dressed in his flight suit, eyebrow raised impatiently.

“Someone definitely needs a nap.” He narrowed his eyes, gesturing at the open bench seat beside him.

Sighing deeply, you pulled the crutches from beneath your armpits to slide into the back before climbing into the jeep next to him. “I was falling asleep at the table.” You muttered as he pulled out. “I didn’t mean to insult you…”

His only reply was a gently squeezing of your knee, a quick motion between his steering of the vehicle, but you could tell he was not pleased. Combined with the quiet thoughtfulness that overcame him on his way to a mission, it made for a silent drive to the Control Tower. As he pulled up in front of the building, you turned to press a warm kiss to his cheek, feeling him tense in surprise at your rather visible display of affection.

“See you in a few hours.” You smiled to him tenderly and he offered you a lopsided grin in reply.

“You bet, doll. No sleeping on your desk, now.” He winked as you slid out and you offered him a laugh over your shoulder as you made your way inside.

Organized chaos awaited you in the Operations Room. Now officially billed as a practice run for the invasion of France, the entire base seemed to be alert and involved in this mission, many appearing just as tired as you. Situating yourself at your desk, you dove in headfirst, grateful for the all-consuming work before you. It did not allow for any ponderance of what tomorrow would bring, nor for you to feel the depth of your fatigue. The morning fairly flew by in a flurry of paper and typewriter ribbon, with one of the other women in the office taking over the duties of delivering wireless transmissions and teletype tape to the brass given your still-healing injury.

Upon reports of the safe return of all twenty-one of the planes that the 100th had contributed to the mission, you finally allowed yourself to surface for a break, making a trip to the washroom. On your slow return journey, you were startled when Colonel Harding stepped into your path, sliding his trademark cigar from his lips to speak.

“I’ve just been informed we’re losing you tomorrow, Lieutenant.”

So, it seemed the news was beginning to make its way around the base, then.

“Yes, sir, it is true.” You nodded, trying your best to keep your facial expression neutral.

“If I had known what a pain it would be, I would never have sung your praises so loudly to General Eaker.” He chuckled though you found it very difficult to focus on the words he was speaking as Major Cleven stepped into the Operations Room.

‘Why is Buck here? If all the planes made it back, why is Buck here?’

Your heart began to thrash frantically against the cage of your ribs as though it intended to break free in its panic. If Bucky were to assign anyone with the grim duty of breaking some horrible news to you, it would surely be his best friend. Nodding vaguely in reply to Harding, who was still speaking about something – possible Eaker’s personality, the level of dread within you only increased as Cleven’s eyes sought you out in the crowded room. Your stomach dropped further and further with each step he took in your direction.

Despite Harding’s apparent obliviousness to your terror, Cleven’s sky blue eyes traced over your face as he came to stand just behind the Colonel, casually crossing his arms before giving you a discreet thumbs up and slight nod of reassurance. It was subtle yet incredibly effective, almost instantly restoring your ability to breathe and easing the racing of your heart.

“Well, on to bigger and greater things, right Lieutenant?” Harding grinned at you, and you nodded quickly as the words once again registered in your brain, the dull roar of terror receding to the darker corners of your mind.

“That’s right sir, but I will miss everyone here.”

“But not little East Anglia I bet.” He laughed before sliding his cigar back into his mouth and dismissing you with a nod, making his way over to confer with Major Bowman who had just returned from interrogation.

“My apologies, Lieutenant. I did not mean to frighten you.” Cleven frowned as he stepped closer to address you directly. “Bucky is fine, just getting some stitches in his forearm – bit of flak, nothing to worry about.”

Exhaling slowly, you nodded gratefully. “Thank you very much for delivering the message, Major. I’m sorry I panicked.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think the Colonel noticed.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and you pressed your own together to prevent yourself from laughing at Harding’s expense. “But, unless I’m mistaken, it sounds like you’re leaving us.” He tilted his head and your mouth immediately pulled down at the corners into a frown before you could stop it.

“I haven’t told anyone yet, I…I just found out last night and…” You tugged at your fingers nervously, a somewhat dramatic wringing of your hands.

“It sounds an awful lot like a promotion.” He prompted in that soft-spoken way of his and you nodded quickly.

“Supposedly a ‘good thing’ but it’s nowhere near here and I’m worried.”

“Worried about the job or…”

You gulped roughly and took a long hard look at Bucky’s best friend, the man he had sent to tell you he was all right, just a bit delayed in the hospital. The man he would have surely entrusted to tell you he was not all right, if it had come to that.

“Leaving Bucky.” You admitted, eyes quickly darting down to your brown, low-heeled dress shoes.

“Don’t you worry about that idiot. Trust me, he’s in good hands.” You could hear the smile in Cleven’s voice as he spoke, and you risked a glance upwards to confirm that he was in fact shooting you a soft smile of reassurance. “I’ve kept him alive this long, haven’t I?”

You scoffed a laugh as it really was hard to tell in moments like these who had the bigger ego, Bucky or Buck. All the same, you deeply appreciated his reassurances.

“Thank you, Major. I will tell him just as soon as I see him.” You assured him in kind, knowing he would be looking out for his friend’s best interests as well.

“Hopefully he doesn’t run into Harding first.” He smirked and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “The Colonel is right though, we will miss you.”

“Thank you Major, the feeling is mutual.” You nodded, swallowing thickly as he nodded warmly in reply before turning to make his way out of the rapidly calming room, the level of activity waning now that the mission had been accomplished.

Bucky himself did not make his appearance until the end of your shift as you made your way out of the building, fit to fall asleep on your feet but facing an evening of packing and goodbyes instead. Leaning against the side of his jeep, he grinned to see you appear and you could not help but smile in return, crutching over to him as he met you halfway.

“Your own set of stitches hmmm?” You tilted your head curiously and he huffed.

“It barely needed it, but Buck insisted and then once Doc McLean got his hands on me…” He grumbled, pressing his lips to your temple in greeting. “Buck said he scared the hell out of you, sorry about that. We’ll work out a better signal next time.”

Taking a shaky breath, you turned to look at him, deciding there was no time like the present. “A…about that Bucky.” Despite your intentions, you still struggled to string the words together. “I’m being transferred.”

His steps lurched to a halt and a look of pure bewilderment came over him. “Transferred?”

Nodding slowly, you reached out to cup his cheek, despite the way it made you wildly unstable on your crutches. “Yeah. Promotion it seems. Doing too good of a job…” You felt tears welling in your eyes and blinked rapidly to try and stave them off.

“Hell, are they sending you to Division?” He croaked.

“Bucky, you know I can’t–”

“Headquarters then…damn doll, I’m proud of you.” The smile he bestowed upon you was brilliant, but the effort that it took him to summon was just as evident, and you could only shake your head sadly as those cursed tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes.

Bucky’s broad palms were quickly cupping your cheeks as his thumbs swiped them away as fast as your tear ducts could produce them. “Got my very own dame in Pinetree.” He grinned cockily and pressed his lips between your brows as you sniffled hopelessly. “Well done.”

“Gonna miss you, though.” You insisted weakly.

“Don’t you go getting all General crazy now. Don’t forget about your poor little Major back in little old East Anglia.” His tone was light, playful, though the sentiment did not fully reach his eyes which seemed somewhat hollow, resembling the endless depths of the ocean more than ever just then.

“Never.” You replied vehemently, gasping as his lips were suddenly on yours in broad daylight, surrounded by all manner of humanity, earning a few whistles and catcalls from his fellow airmen.

“Good.” Bucky replied firmly and pulled back slowly. “Suppose we gotta get you packed hmmm?”

“Yeah…” You breathed softly and relished the feeling of his hand on your lower back as you covered the last of the distance to the jeep, sitting as close as possible to him while he drove to your quarters. “I’ll write you.” You promised as he parked, and he grinned.

“I’ll write back.” Bucky tapped your nose fondly and you reached out, gently pushing his sleeve up, frowning as you found no bandage on that arm before grabbing his other hand to repeat the process.

When your eyes fell on the white gauze wrapped around his forearm you bent your head to press a soft kiss there. “Heal quickly.”

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” His question was barely above a whisper.

“0530, to catch the first train.”

“I’ll see you at 0515, then?”

Furrowing your brows, you spoke with the rational side of your brain only. “You should sleep in, there’s no mission tomorrow.”

Bucky snorted and tugged you closer by the hand still holding onto his. “And let you leave without kissing you one last time?” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to press his lips to yours as if to prove his point.

Melting against him with a sigh, you were sorely tempted to ask him to drive you to out to the end of the runway to look at the stars once more. To play fast and loose with more than just your need to pack. Unfortunately, Ruth’s warning cut through the swell of recklessness that was building within you.

“Miller alert. She’s less than two minutes out.” She said quickly as she passed by the jeep before darting into your quarters and you pulled back sharply.

“0515, then.” You conceded with a nod and peck his lips once more before sliding from the vehicle and following your friend into your hut to begin the process of breaking the news and filling your suitcases.

By the time you slid into bed, not much earlier than the night previous, you were convinced that the next person who offered you a bravely proud face would be met with your fist in their nose.

‘Why can they not be as devastated as I am?’ You wondered as you lay you head onto your pillow to begin another fruitless wrestling match with the elusive prize of sleep. ‘Or at least admit that they are, instead of putting on that mask of happiness on my behalf. I’m not happy.’

You alarm clock, shrill and earlier than everyone else’s, was not greeted with the usual affronted reactions, but groggy hugs before you forced your companions back into their cots, moving your pair of mismatched suitcases outside the door one-by-one once you were dressed and ready. Bucky was there, waiting against his jeep in the wan grey light, soft smile settling on his features as you appeared.

He rushed forward to grab your luggage, putting it into the back of his jeep automatically, making you laugh softly.

“Captain Miller is picking me up here shortly, we’re just waiting for her.”

He huffed and guided you to sit on the front seat of the jeep as you waited, taking the weight off your leg. “Don’t even get to drive you one last time.”

“Today. One last time, today.” You amended firmly, looking up to him as he leaned over you, braced against the frame of the vehicle.

“You’re right, not forever.”

“No. Just for now.” You swallowed as your throat clenched painfully.

“For now.” He echoed and bent his head to kiss you softly.

The sound of a jeep pulling up behind his, grinding on one of the gears before coming to an abrupt stop, signalled the arrival of Captain Miller.

“She’s early, doll.” Bucky griped against your lips, and you sighed.

“‘A punctual WAC is an effective WAC.’” You whispered and slid to your feet.

Bucky stepped back to grab your luggage, moving it into the rear of Miller’s vehicle as you crutched along behind him. Standing at the passenger’s side, you gave him a watery smile.

“See you soon, Bucky.”

“Take care near that big city, doll.” He rumbled back, hesitating a moment before lunging forward to slide his arms around your waist.

Hauling you close against him, your mouths collided in a thorough kiss as the brim of his cap clipped yours, sending it flying backward into the road.

“Major Egan!” Captain Miller barked shrilly, but neither of you paid her any mind, clinging to one another until only life-giving oxygen necessitated that you part.

“You…take care here Bucky.” Your eyes bore into his firmly and he nodded in understanding.

“Lieutenant, get in this vehicle at once.” Captain Miller barked again, and you tensed under the direct order, wheeling to obey.

Bucky retrieved your cap, dusting it off and exchanging it for your crutches which he stowed in the back beside your suitcases.

Your eyes never left him, even as Captain Miller ground her way through several gears, getting the jeep into motion. Mouthing a silent ‘bye,’ which he mimicked, you turned in your seat to watch him become smaller and smaller behind you until you could no longer distinguish him in the distance.

-------------------------

Read Part Four - "I Trust You Know What You're Doing?"

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot

[needfantasticstories]

Hi again, @twistedstoryteller!

Okay, LU recs off the top-ish of my head in a sort of organized-ish order:

AUTHORS!

Angst, Action, and Mixed:

Faerule and the No Good Very Bad Road Trip by ImperialKatwala, PolynomialPandemic is a great "Chain Meets Hyrule" fic.

@gintrinsic-writing is phenomenal. A gem. I love all of it, but check the tags to find ones you're comfortable with. AO3 Blood Like Yours is my personal favorite, and the sequel Like Fire in Your Veins by @pocketramblr are both about Hyrule's Blood Curse from Adventures of Link. M for Violence for most of them, but check tags to be sure. If you like it, consider also...

Protector of the Golden Power by Sillus Hyrule centric but he has a different secret.

@somer-writes has a lot of great short one shots, some darker than others. My personal favorite is a sort of character study of the boys at their lowest and how they recover called "Depletion"

For a Sliver of Sunlight by tirsynni: Warrior's dedication to his brothers makes him question his title as Hero.

What are You to a God Slayer by Secretlysheikah BAMF Sky

Brethren in a Cradle by Skyward_Arpeggio BABY!!!! It is adorable, if a bit sad at the start.

Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Linked Universe Whumptober 2023) by Skyward_Arpeggio because in general they don't go above T ratings and write excellent fics.

this year it taught me (lost and ambitious) by qar Also EXCELLENT writer. "Sky has a separate moment with each member of the team"

Whumptober 2023 by Arecaceae Great fics! Plus, "Each story will have warnings in the tags and the story notes as well as a 0-5 whump rating. The ratings will be relative to my writing, so my 5 might not be equivalent to someone else's 5. I don't write MCD, extreme gore, non-con, or extreme emotional angst."

Major's Whumptober 2023 by major_de_speed Major's are also quite clean despite the M rating which is more about the violence.

Linkeduniverse Shorts by Skyward_Arpeggio LU Short fics

A Royal Castletown Wedding by Skyward_Arpeggio This story is so good!!!!!!!!!

Whumptober 2022 by Arecaceae more great fics, rated T.

LU Whump Dump by UnexpectedStormy (ArtemiStorm)  need AO3 account to read, but worth it! Linked Universe Whumpy One-Shots, rated T.

There's one I'm missing, and when I find it I'll add it here. It involves a cursed magical artifact that Legend messes with... it's intense.

Fluffier Fics:

Frosty Reception by Skyward_Arpeggio "Four’s glad to finally be home again, and he’s not the only one happy at his return." Cute fic!

S’more Stories by Ginger375 "A collection of drabbles and mini-fics for LUtober! Day 31: Costumes"

Sentiment by Arecaceae

nine heroes, one spirit by Imjustherefortheangst, uncleskyrule (unclemoriarty) tons of great short fics, all with G-T ratings

Finding Family by Tashacee "AU where Wild's scars are a lot worse and he isn't used to interacting with people. The Chain think their new brother is dope af and are determined to make him feel at home."

My Heart's Forsaken Me by sister_dear "Four looses his sword in the heat of battle, and it's picked up by someone else... Time’s aren’t the only secrets coming to light, and the gang discovers they still have a thing or two to learn from each other."

Ambush at the Bridge by JinxedRuby Very action and healing oriented fic, multiple perspectives on one event.

Dark Clouds on the Horizon by CubanCracker62 "he Chain ends up in Wild's era shortly before the events of TotK."

There are worse ways to stay alive by EliotRosewater one shots rated T.

Crack Fics:

Misplaced Heroes by notOK this had me busting out laughing SO MANY TIMES!

Peak Gremlin Energy by defenestration_nation "Fics focusing on various Links being chaotic gremlins"

Not Necessarily LU, but Adjacent or just LoZ:

Blood of the Hero by Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase: (Wild) Link's parents have to step in to save him when the Shrine of Resurrection gets damaged. His parents are so well written, and Abel makes appearances in LU-related/adjacent fics, The Many Misadventures of Dad Squad and Dad Squad AU by Nancyheart, Silver_Captain82403, Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase

which is part crack and part angst, mostly lighthearted.

Don't Worry Man, I'm from the Yiga Clan: Link makes a Yiga friend due to being a delightful chaos gremlin.

Feature MCD... but might be worth it:

And Still the Cradle Blooms by Solistrix: GORGEOUS literary masterpiece. The writing is unreal. It's descriptions and emotions are incredible. This is more like finding the meaning in eventual death, so of the three here I suspect you'll like this one best as far as not being too hurt by the character's mentioned end.

This is an Adjuration: I'll be real, this is full of action and excitement but yes, it has MCD and is making me cry, but it's also REEEEAAALLY good!

Blood Drops on Roses by HotCheetohatred Fantastic storytelling! Wild centric, Twi is big brother but from day one of Wild's journey. Unreliable young Wild as narrator is an absolute delight. Unfinished, no MCD yet, but it's in the tags so no promises.

Modern AUs for not-big-on-modern-au fans:

As a fellow not-seeker of modern AUs, I personally have enjoyed the following

@skyward-floored Incredibles AU

Wild’s Wolf by HotCheetoHatred "Modern AU where young Wild is a feral forest child, raised by Wolf Twilight. He is captured, separated from Twilight, and put under observation. Time helps him escape." Unfinished, and I admit personal bias here because HotCheetoHatred is my BETA reader.

ARTISTS!!!

@ovegakart: amazing action, gut-busting humor, and captivating storytelling! Does comics

@la-sera: beautiful, ethereal, and gorgeous illustrations and a great storyteller, loves downfall duo but does every one of the boys justice

@dfanart: HILARIOUS and such heartfelt emotions on them boys.

@kikker-oma great art from fluff to whump to action

@1caru has so many fluffy LU gems!

@linderosse has a Zelda's meet AU, does LU, and much more!

@lele5429 great illustrations and abstract pieces of LU fanart.

@theecholegend hahaha... arson.

@ikaishere has so many cute LU ones.

@thepinklink fabulous LU character sketches

@hiimgin BIAS! I got to work with them and they are FABULOUS!

@pluviatrix has art for their fic And Still the Cradle Blooms

@cherrypaii has fantastic illustrations of these boys!

AND MANY, MANY MORE!

(Commenters, please add artists I forgot. I know there are a ton Im missing!!)

Hope this helps you feel welcome!

[bridenore]

HD fic recs : Curses (part 2)

Here are a few recs dealing heavily with curses. This is part two of three and focuses on fics ranging from 30k to 50k words. Listed in alphabetical order, as always. Part one can be found here.

Aeternus Solem by @onbeinganangel  [36k]

On December 1st, Harry Potter gets sent halfway across the world to attempt to break a possibly fatal curse on an unnamed British Unspeakable — except said Unspeakable is not unnamed at all and Harry has been in love with him for over four years.

The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell [30k]

After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right.

Catfished by Saras_Girl [32k]

Draco is in deep water, Harry can see straight through him, and that’s not even the full scale of the problem.

Darkest Before the Dawn by @dualwieldteacup [47k]

The last thing Draco wanted was to show up at Harry Potter’s door, cursed blind and holding a boxful of his friends Transfigured into snakes, but here he was. Between breaking the curse, adjusting to life without sight, and teaching his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, Draco’s got his hands full. Being forced to live with Harry Potter might just be the death of him. This is a story about the bonds of friendship, fairy tale endings, and learning to ask for help (even from Gryffindors).

Draco Malfoy, It’s Your Lucky Day by @faith2wood [37k]

Even though he’s unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

En Passant by @dodgerkedavra [41k]

Harry and Draco survive the apocalypse. This is what happens after.

Fearless by Bounding-Heart (Brief_and_Dreamy) [34k]

“There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance.” – John Lennon

Hades Paradox by @romaine2424 [32k]

For reasons unknown to most, Draco Malfoy came to Hogwarts soon after the battle and for five years had never left its premises. Auror Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts to deal with his psychological daemons, but soon realises Professor Draco Malfoy has his own magical and physical daemons to deal with. However, much to Harry’s surprise, Draco is coping well with help from the person Harry aspires to be.

In Our Blood by @secretsalex [37k]

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra [38k]

Harry Potter has been running away since the War, disappearing into his job as a freelance curse-breaker. Work is his life. Home doesn’t exist. He’s about to disappear again when he runs into Death Eater-turned-Healer Draco Malfoy. It’s supposed to be a one-night-stand. They’re not supposed to pine for each other. Harry’s not supposed to sleep with Draco a second time. Or a third. Or a fourth. But when a nasty curse sends Harry back into Draco’s arms, he might be forced to admit that home’s been waiting for him all along… Or: Harry wants to go home. Draco wants to be a home. It’s hard to say it out loud.

Orion in the Sky by space_wingding [30k]

Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter.

Potential Gravity by @lol-zeitgeistic [32k]

Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

Renaissance by @dysonrules [33k]

Harry awakens after a long sleep to find things terribly changed. He’s not in an alternate universe… it just seems like it.

The Rules of War by calrissian18 [40k]

“After having his tentative advance rebuffed, Harry has been Imperius-ing Draco into having a relationship with him. He’s needed to make the curse stronger and stronger, the more he wants – desire, sex, love, marriage, baby. However, when Draco falls pregnant, the power of the curse starts diminishing, no matter what Harry tries. What happens when the curse finally fails?”

Somebody to Love by khasael [31k]

Draco’s life after the war is quite different than it used to be. When he finds himself cursed, with little hope for lifting the spell, he sets out to make the most of the time he has left. Getting to know his Aunt Andromeda and his young cousin Teddy feels like a good thing to do, even if it can’t help him in the long run…or can it?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[www-pinkhearse]

“Disco elysium is a bummer” when disco elysium said the night is always darkest before the dawn; when disco elysium said In dark times, should the stars also go out?; when disco elysium said the arthropods are in silent and meaningless awe of you, know that we are watching -- when you're tired, when the vision spins out of control. The insects will be looking on. Rooting for you; when disco elysium said that we continue to persist at all is a testament to our faith in one another; when disco elysium said in honour of your will, lieutenant-yefreitor. That you kept from falling apart, in the face of sheer terror. Day after day. Second by second.; when disco elysium said No. This is somewhere to be. This is all you have, but it's still something. Streets and sodium lights. The sky, the world. You're still alive; when disco elysium said something beautiful is going to happen; when disco elysium said I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT. I LOVE YOU.

[not-quite-so-intrepid-hero]

My darling paramour, my infernal flame, my Figueroth,

I sent these meteors to you from the dawn of time, when a rouge asteroid almost hit my dad’s jet ski. Sundering the space rock with but a gesture of my most potent art, the debris surrounded me, and with it came the sorrow of your absence. I sent these rocky chunks across the galaxy, and they have traveled since the beginning of time to tell you that I love you.

In each moment of our mutual ignorance, where we had yet to meet, this message was already spinning its way to you through time and space to illuminate the night sky, to tell you that I love you. Us, our love, like time, has been inevitable and strange. I have walked in its shadow joyfully. It gives me peace to know that in my darkest moments, my love for you was already on its way, flying through the stars. We have been on our way to save us since before the lights of our world were first lit. Pretty cool, my darling paramour.

P.S. I know you have another year of school after this, but I hope one day soon, you and I might travel amongst these stars together.

XOXO,

Ayda Aguefort

P.S. You are not gonna believe how much my dad spent on this jet ski

[zaineviu]

❛𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳❜ - L.F (SKZ)

synopsis. My life is unfair. The one and only woman I love left me unprepared. I'm staring down at my own petals falling one by one... And piece by piece. I can't feel any peace in my heart.

pairings. felix x fem!reader.

content. angst, felix angst, breakup, heartbreak, inappropriate language in some sentences, felix doesn't get over his breakup with you, brief mention of Hyunjin and Jisung. Inspired by Felix's song ‘Unfair’ (I LOVE THAT DAMN SONG WITH ALL MY HEART). This shot is based on Lixie's pov!

wc. 3,079

a/n. Something quite sad, I love writing angst, and I hope you enjoy suffering with me.

Don't forget to comment, so I know you like what I write and encourage me to keep writing.

Ever since you came into my life... ... You taught me all about unconditional love.

Since you came into his life, everything changed. Not immediately, of course. At first, it was slow, like the dawn that barely illuminates a dark room. But when it did, you dazzled him.

Remember how you used to talk to him about unconditional love, how you taught him to believe in something he thought only existed in the songs you sang as a duet on the way home. Your words were his anchor, and your smiles… damn, your smiles were all he needed to survive the darkest days.

He couldn't even think straight without being able to think about you for a second, he was too in love to even admit it.

Looking at you from afar, watching your hair slide down your shoulders as you concentrated on what you were doing, his heart beating fast in his anxious chest looking for you to look at him the same way he was looking at you now.

Eyes so big and so bright that…

"You'll eat flies if you keep opening your mouth like that", Hyunjin laughed loudly behind them, shoving Han when he looked at him with a huge grin, Felix just looked at them with a shrug.

"I don't have my mouth open."

"You do, mate, and wide open", Han laughed this time wildly and smashed his palm into Hyunjin's who shoved him again breaking free from his embrace.

Felix just shrugged his shoulders once more.

He just couldn't stop looking at you.

Such a pretty girlfriend, imagining you being your boyfriend made his stomach a home for his rambunctious butterflies.

That afternoon, when she came with a smile, something in her smile made everything feel lighter. The idea of going straight home vanished when she proposed a walk. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and before they knew it, they were walking to the nearest park.

The sun was beginning to descend, tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. The shadows of the trees danced in the breeze, and the sound of the leaves accompanied our steps. She laced her fingers with his, and her touch was enough to calm the chaos that always seemed to dwell in his mind.

"Lixie", she began, her voice soft and full of peace for the intimate moment, "have you ever thought about what love really means?"

Felix, confused by her question, but also intrigued, looked at her and shook his head. She smiled, that smile that always managed to disarm him completely, the one that he fell for first.

"It's when you love someone without expecting anything in return," she continued, the boy just waited for you to go on, trying to figure you out. You were silent for a few seconds, trying to convey what you wanted to say. "Not because he's perfect, but because you just… love everything he is. His flaws, his fears, his good and bad moments…. It becomes your priority, you look after their wellbeing and care for them, that's love…. When you give something to someone without expecting anything in return."

Her gaze was lost for a moment on the horizon before she turned back to him, her eyes shining, a smile that could only be called his, you were as much in love as he was. "I feel that way about you, Felix."

His chest tightened, unable to process the immensity of her words. He wanted to say something, anything, but he gasped, caught in the sincerity of your confession.

Of your love.

"You don't have to say anything," she added, gently squeezing her hand. "I just want you to know that I'm here, always."

The sun finally set, leaving behind a sky that was beginning to fill with stars.

And in that moment, in that dim light, Felix could only look at you as you slept on his lap, with the lights of the lanterns surrounding them under a tree, you in his arms.

You taught him that love has no limits, that even on days when he couldn't handle the weight of the world, you still found room for him.

‘You promised a always that you knew would be a goodbye disguised as love.’

I think about you saving me every night. Felt like an angel sent from above.

It was normal, this feeling of need, to always have you in his arms, to keep you with him no matter how much you said it was a lot of love at that moment.

Loving you was too easy for him.

Your body close to him, so soft and warm that you seemed like a cozy blanket on top of him, Felix was delighted.

That night, as he lay down in his bed, your image came back to his mind. Thinking of you was inevitable, as if his mind had created a sacred space reserved just for you. Every time his days became heavy, you were there, saving him with a word, a look or a smile. It was as if your mere existence was enough to remove the shadows that sometimes wrapped around him.

Sometimes he felt selfish for loving you so much, but he couldn't help it. He thought about how you came into his life, like an angel sent to remind him that even in his worst moments, he could find something good, something real. The way you saw through him, the way you made him feel enough, gave him enough strength to stay alive.

With his eyes closed, he allowed himself to hold you tightly.

'I fell asleep with your name on my lips, hoping that, at least in my dreams, you could save me again.'

All I see is your shining beauty. Hope you can see the human in me. Will your truе love be the onе to free me?

Felix adjusted the scarf around his neck, the cold biting his cheeks as he walked aimlessly through the city. Neon lights flickered over puddles of water on the pavement, reflecting a world that seemed to move too fast for him to keep up.

Everything seemed to work perfectly for everyone else, like gears clicking into place on a clock.

The world seemed to keep pace.

Except he didn't seem to keep pace.

There was something unsettling about the way your image popped into his mind, without permission, at the most inopportune times. He wasn't even sure when it had started.

Maybe the first time he saw you laughing in that record store, with the sun streaming through the windows and drawing soft shadows on your face.

You had caught his attention like a spark in the dark, but now that spark was almost painful, a constant flame that burned and consumed him.

He felt miserable walking aimlessly while thinking about you.

It was funny how something so fleeting became his current torture, from how you left him stranded in the nothingness while you decided to leave without saying goodbye.

He felt like a fool believing things he knew were going to happen sooner or later.

It wasn't something he wanted to admit, not even to himself. But there was a brutal clarity to the fact that he couldn't get you out of his head.

He had learned to live with it, to keep quiet, because it was easier to hide behind his thoughts than to face the inevitable: that maybe you would never look at him the same way, that your love was fleeting, and that was okay, he didn't hate that fact.

He hated that you had made him fall in love, that you had spoiled him so much with your love, that you had made him addicted to you, that now he looked like a drug addict without his drug.

He came to a corner and stopped, watching the traffic go by. People came and went, each one busy with their own lives, while he felt his own freeze at that exact point. It wouldn't matter if he just crossed and a car ran him over.

At least you'd find out and go see him at his funeral, right?

Seeing you was an idea that tormented him.

It wasn't about the superficial beauty, the kind words or the smiles he offered to others. It was about everything he didn't show: his flaws, his insecurities, the scars he carried like an invisible weight.

You knew him so well that it scared him to the point, you knew the exact number of freckles he had, the amount of moles on his body, how he likes to sleep, even the most obvious flaws like bathing barefoot or sleeping without turning off all the lights.

Did you ever wonder what he was hiding behind those eyes?

He doubted it. Not because he thought you weren't interested, but because he knew you already knew.

Maybe it was easier to keep things that way, with distance as a shield.

But there were nights, like this one, when he allowed himself to dream of a different world. One where you could look at him and understand him. A world where your love, if it ever became real, would be enough to free him from this internal prison he had built himself.

You tore down all the walls he had worked so hard to build, taking him, his thoughts, all of whom there was nothing left.

He wasn't the kind of person who expected rescues. Yet there was something about you, something about the way you brightened even the grayest of days, that made him wonder if you could be the exception.

The rain began to fall softly, and Felix stood still, letting the drops cool his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city mixed with his own thoughts.

He had no answers that night, but he didn't need them either. He had learned to live with uncertainty, with the longing he didn't dare name.

Because deep down, he knew that your presence, even if only in his mind, was the only thing that made all of this worth it.

Even if you were no longer with him.

My life is so unfair... ... I'm still left in despair.

The sound of your laughter echoed in his head like a persistent echo, one he couldn't silence no matter how hard he tried. Felix couldn't help it: everything around him seemed to revolve around you.

But while you continued on, unconcerned, he remained trapped, a silent observer on the sidelines of your story.

He sat on a bench under the dim light of a street lamp, raindrops slowly soaking his hair.

The words of an unsent message kept floating in his mind. He had written it to you a thousand times, always in different forms, but he never dared to press "send."

He didn't know what scared him more: the possibility that you wouldn't respond or that you would, but only to confirm that you didn't feel the same way.

After so much time together, so much time apart, he didn't even know that you would respond anymore.

It wasn't the kind of thought he liked to indulge in, but that night, sitting in the dark with the cold seeping into his bones, it felt more real than ever.

It was unfair how every little gesture of yours seemed to light a fire in his chest while you, probably, weren't even aware of it. It was unfair how your words, always casual, became little treasures that he jealously guarded, even though you probably didn't even want a single one of them.

But what hurt him the most was the feeling that it could never be enough.

No matter how hard he tried to get closer, there was always something stopping him.

A deep, rooted fear that whispered to him that no matter how much you shined in his life, he would always be relegated to being a shadow.

Loving you hurt.

The confession wasn't something he could say out loud, but he felt it with every fiber of his being. Despair wasn't just sadness; it was a constant weight, a void he couldn't fill, no matter how hard he tried. It was the realization that even if you saw him, you could never see him the way he wanted to.

Your love was never real anyway.

Felix closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. He hated himself for feeling this way, for wanting something that seemed so out of reach. But more than anything, he hated himself for not having the courage to change it.

As the rain intensified, he slowly stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to walk again. There was no place he wanted to go, but standing still felt like giving up, and giving up wasn't an option.

The injustice of his situation was still there, like a thorn in his side, but so was the small spark of hope that he couldn't extinguish, no matter how hard he tried.

Because even though he didn't know if you could ever see him, he held on to the idea that somehow, it was worth it to stay there, waiting.

Always waiting for you.

Just when I thought that god... ... Had answered my whole prayer.

He stood still, staring at the empty space in front of him, as if waiting for something to change.

The room they shared, now silent, seemed so much bigger without you, emptier than he had ever imagined.

The promise of an eternal love was left behind, dissolved in the words no longer spoken, in the gestures no longer exchanged.

He had been so sure that he had finally found what he had always wanted.

As if, somehow, God had heard his prayers, having given him the love he so longed for.

A connection that seemed complete, as if all the pieces fit together perfectly in his life. The feeling that everything he had wanted for years, everything he had lost along the way, was within his reach.

He thought that, at last, he had found peace. That the uncertainty of his existence would vanish when he had someone to share it with. Everything seemed perfect, so natural and so easy. Until it wasn't.

The breakup had come abruptly, almost without warning, and it left a deeper mark on Felix than he had anticipated. In his mind, the image of everything he thought he had gained was crumbling, without explanation, without reason. What seemed to have been a clear and definitive answer to his prayers vanished into thin air, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness, as if the love he had felt had never been real.

"I think it's best that we break up."

He couldn't speak.

"I don't think being together is the best thing right now, Lixie."

He couldn't deny it.

"I stopped loving you."

He didn't react.

He felt like everything he had given, everything he had invested in that relationship, had been lost.

Despair began to take its place, like a shadow that lengthened, occupying every corner of his being.

How could he have been so blind? How could he have believed that, at last, everything would make sense?

Now there was only confusion and pain, a sense of being left behind, as if everything he had dreamed and prayed for so long had slipped away, perhaps forever.

Felix fell back onto the bed, head in his hands, feeling the heaviness of the moment crushing him. The answers he had hoped for, the promises he had believed, were gone, leaving behind only an echo of what could have been.

He had lost everything.

You were his everything.

After I let you go... ... And saw you out the door.

Felix stood, watching you walk towards the door.

Every step you took seemed heavier, and the silence that filled the room only made the weight of the goodbye more real.

His hands were cold, shaking slightly, but he didn't dare move them.

He couldn't.

He didn't know what to do, what to say.

He couldn't find the words.

"Felix…" Your voice, cracked, made his chest tighten, but he didn't say anything.

He looked at you, foolishly hoping you would change your mind. But you didn't.

"Please don't," he murmured, his eyes searching yours, but he only found indifference.

You sighed and, with one last look, walked over to the door. Felix swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. It was as if time had stopped.

"Is this really what you want?" He asked, his voice shaking, though he tried to sound firm.

You paused for a moment, staring at the ground. “It’s not what I want, Felix,” you said quietly. “But it’s what I have to do. I’m sorry.”

Felix felt the ground crumble beneath his feet. “Do you have to? Do you, really? Leave me like this?” His throat closed up. He tried to speak, but the words caught. “We… we had it, we had it all! Don’t you see? We tried! We made it work! We can make it work!”

You turned to him, your eyes glassy, ​​but there was no trace of doubt in them. “We tried, yes, but… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep fooling myself, or you. I love you, Felix, but this… it’s not working.”

The words fell on him like a loss. “No… No, please. It’s not like that.” Felix took a step towards you, reaching out his hand, but you didn't take it. The distance between the two of you seemed to have suddenly widened, as if you were no longer within reach of his love.

"I'm sorry, Felix. You don't understand, but this is what's best for both of us." You opened the door, and for a second, Felix thought you might back out.

But you didn't.

"No! Don't go! You can't do this!" Felix screamed, his words filled with desperation. But your eyes only looked at him one last time, and you turned away.

"I stopped loving you." Was all you said before you completely disappeared from his life.

The sound of the door closing echoed in his ears like a blow, a lash to his soul. He stood there, staring into space, not moving, not knowing what to do. Everything he had dreamed of, everything he had believed in, crumbled in that instant. The empty room reminded him of what he had lost.

There was nothing left.

Felix stood there, alone, with the words he could never say hanging in the air.

The door was already closed, and with it, it seemed like all his chances had vanished.

Somehow, he knew he could never explain to you how deep his love was, or how much you meant to him.

Pain enveloped him, but so did the sadness of knowing that words would never have been enough to save what was already broken.

He loved you, but that, sadly, wasn't enough to keep you by his side.

All that was left now was the echo of what was, a goodbye left unsaid, a love lost without being fully understood.

He couldn't even confess how much he loved you before you left.

I wanted you to know... ... How much I love you so.

[hangesdarling]

Request for a oneshot of Hange who gets really horny and flustered from their vampire fem s/o feeding from them. Thanks 🥰!

a crimson kiss — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You were a vampire lurking in the dark streets when you met Hange. CONTENT. a bit of slow burn to build their relationship, very suggestive, blood, biting, implied sex, light angst, open-ended hehe WORD COUNT. 2.6k A/N. fic request from @malorey-ethster :D this reminds me a lot of the vampire!hange series lingering in my head omggg

Dark shadows loomed over the village, making the darkest shade of black among the streets. People feared the night when criminals and monsters lurked as what rumors in the streets have told tales about. But as you stood perfectly still on a deserted alleyway among the darkness, you saw this strange being walking slowly, book in hand while the other held a small lamp.

People don't walk the streets late this hour but then again, this one is different. The perfect prey, too distracted by a book to think that you're standing still right across from them. Your claws clenched against your skirt, and the taste of blood from your previous meal still lingered, only prompting your hunger to take action.

You were about to pounce in that person's direction, trying to swallow your regret for another life lost in your hands but you felt a blinding light crossing past your eyes, making you retract from your stance.

Your arm shielded your eyes as the yellow glow of the lamp illuminated your face in the darkness.

"Oh, there you are," you heard the person mutter, a smile creeping across their face at the sight of you. But before you could run and disappear in the darkness once more, you felt a pair of arms restraining you.

-

The coach you were riding on had its small curtains drawn as you rode into the early dawn. You silently thanked how the velvet, embroidered fabric was thick enough to cover whatever sliver of sunlight began to creep in the sky. You tightened the thick shoal wrapped around you despite your bound wrists. This person who told you their name right after abducting you helped to fix your shoal so only a portion of your face could be seen. Hange.

"Sorry about tying you up like that," they muttered, almost apologetic as they offered you a smile. "But I won't hurt you, I promise. I was just tasked to investigate, that's all."

When the coach halted, Hange pulled you outside in wary carefulness, not letting the sun damage you. You found yourself in what seemed to be a library with a few laboratory materials, perhaps Hange's room.

Their table was strewn with sketches, and several stacks of reports detailing your nightly appearances and words from witnesses. It was clear that Hange had enough knowledge of all the forms you could take and even your whereabouts even before they crossed that alleyway last night.

In the days that followed, Hange fed and observed you, wondering to themself why you always requested animal blood even when it wasn't well-suited to satisfy your hunger. You tried to scare them off with a cold, obscure persona but nothing seemed to deter them even after your several attempts to bite their nose off.

Hange believed you would eventually soften up, earning your trust by encouraging you to talk without coercion. And even when you're trying hard enough not to yield, you find your mouth running, detailing what went before you became a heinous creature up to this day. Hange succeeded in pulling the words out of your mouth, even ones that you wouldn't want a soul to hear. Their presence felt like a dewy morning, a light breeze eager to get to know you out of pure curiosity.

"Ah, to think that there are more fascinating things than titans," Hange would smile at you, trusting you enough this time to untie your wrists. "Let's be friends, Y/N."

During the following days, Hange lets you lounge on their bed, keeping you comfortable as you lie down under their thick blankets. They don't sleep much themself as you have observed, maybe taking a few hours to sleep at their desk during the night and that was it. After a week of being together, you found them to be a heavy sleeper and took that advantage to carry them back to bed. You stared outside the window for the rest of that night, measuring how easy it would be to try and escape from this floor but decided against it. After all, only danger awaits you outside. If the townsfolk won't burn you at the stake, they would tear you apart bit by bit. Leaving you under the sun would be the least harsh punishment.

Hange was alerted the moment you disappeared from the bed, looking everywhere for you and thinking you might have escaped but they silently chucked to themself when they found you curled under their bed among the darkness. Hange crawled next to you despite the dusty floorboards.

"You seem a lot more comfortable in the darkness, huh?" they asked, tapping the underside of the bed frame and pulling away some webs from it. "We'll get this cleaned up if you like."

"Hm, thank you..." you mumbled.

Hange had gotten to know you better from then on. Physical contact became less strange as you let Hange touch your cold hands or felt the lack of pulse on your neck. A living dead creature. And even then as you lack the properties of a human, Hange never failed to make the space safe for you. They let you hug them at night, even if their warmth cannot meet yours, and let you hold their hand despite your insusceptibility to coldness. Every day, Hange brings a variation of animal blood to know what you like best. All felt like cold and tasteless cream crawling down your throat but you prefer them, knowing that your hunger wasn't hurting people anymore.

One night, Hange handed you a cup of blood, a shade darker than what they always give you. Your keen eye found the bandage poking beneath their shirt.

"Hange, is this your blood?"

"Uh, well, it is. I do think it's better if you drink directly from me but your insistence on drinking animal blood may cause a bit of shock to your system when you drink human blood again so try sipping from it first," Hange responded.

When you tilted the cup to your lips, it was cold but a sudden taste burst in your mouth, a hint of sweetness permeating the usual buttery taste of human blood. It has never been sweet before so what made it different now?

You told Hange how it tasted, quite in detail, and used several comparisons to help their research. However, the subtle smile and blush on their face couldn't escape your eyes. Maybe it was their excitement from the new information, but it's undeniable that there is something else.

-

Whenever night falls, your body does not crave long hours of sleep so you spend the night staring outside, counting people on the streets, or perhaps judging who the weakest prey may be just from their stance. But that night, Hange wanted to sit with you by the window, trading their few hours of sleep to be with you for longer. Your budding relationship came slow and subtle, the way midnight shifts to dawn to let the rosy rays of the sun appear in the sky once more. The hugs, the touch, the comfort within each other. Vampires cannot love humans this way but so are other things people tried to set rules upon. The peculiar cannot love or marry, forced to stay in the shadows and linger in their loneliness.

But even living organisms without consciousness like plants still sought companionship, you know, Hange told you one time, flipping through a book showing symbiotic relationships among living organisms. One has a better chance of survival with the other so it's only right for them to be together, right?

Hange leaned on your shoulder as they read by the moonlight. Your eyes followed the words and illustrations closed, exchanging a smile of two with them before trying to resist the urge to kiss them. Hange's rapid heartbeats near you only amplified that temptation as you turned away slightly. Hange may not have your keen sense, or hear a heartbeat and feel human warmth from you but their sharp intuition cannot deny what you both felt at that moment. Hange dropped their book by the side before turning you to face them in a soft, gentle kiss. Their warm lips linked with your cold ones and yet you found yourself pulling closer, as the companionship you desired all those years ago materialized before you. Hange kept a trail of kisses on your neck, pulling you towards the bed until you both collapsed on the soft mattress.

The curtains fluttered close as the wind outside calmed, little by little the moonlight could only bleed through an inch in that window. The flame on Hange's lamp by the table slowly extinguished but Hange kept kissing you in the darkness. Every touch, every time their fingers gripped yours against the mattress was a proclamation of the affection you've both tried to ignore. Both your worlds felt so distant but even if Hange could taste the blood from your mouth, they never wanted this kiss to end any sooner.

Hange had you spooned in their arms for the rest of the morning as they slept soundly against your neck. You wiped the blood beading on their lower lip from last night when your kisses got too passionate. Hange didn't mind and only laughed off their wounded lip, teasing you that it made them look more appealing in your eyes. You watched a drop of their blood dissipate through your finger, creating an intricate maroon pattern against your skin. You could taste that familiar hint of sweetness even as you brought it to your lips. And when you kissed Hange's lips, you felt their blood grazing your mouth, your tongue gently licking their wound until the bleeding stopped. Their blood tasted like a thin sheen of sweetened butter coating your mouth. However, the sweet taste only brought upon the bitter memories of your past. Of the human blood dripping from your chin as a victim lay lifeless on your lap, the sound of their diminishing heartbeat against your ear, and their last scream of help before becoming the food to satisfy your hunger.

You pulled away from their lips before they could even wake up, situating yourself to their chest so you wouldn't see their bloodied lip. You wrapped your arms tightly against their body, ear pressed to their bare chest where you could hear the rhythmic sound of the heartbeat you came to love.

-

"Y/N, why don't you feed from me this time?"

Hange's question broke the silence sitting between the two of you. Their eyes remained contemplative, bored through the wooden ceiling of their room.

"Why would you want that?" you asked cautiously.

Hange turned to give you a small smile. "I just noticed that you look healthier when you drink human blood. Your cheeks weren't so pale and you seemed a lot energized. It's your natural food after all so you don't have to insist on drinking animal blood."

Your mind wanted to protest, but all the reasons you shouldn't feed from them were stuck in your throat.

"But I don't want to hurt you..." you mumbled.

Hange tilted your chin so you could look at their reassuring face once more. "Come on, dear. You won't hurt me. It takes a few liters before a human could die from blood loss. If we regulate this properly, I won't die."

Their offer sounded tempting, after all, you were in a considerably better state after ingesting their blood. Almost like you have regained twofold of your strength from their blood alone.

Hange was overjoyed when you finally agreed, they pulled you into their lap before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. Hange's face was flushed when you began licking the spot on their neck you wanted to puncture with your teeth. Your mouth gently nibbled on their neck, leaving shallow bite marks that blossomed pink on their neck. Their hands roamed around your body, rubbing your thighs under that skirt until they wandered under your shirt.

You moaned softly against their neck with the way Hange was tugging on your clothes as if in permission to take them off.

"You're enjoying this a lot, Hange," you smiled as you helped them by unbuttoning your shirt. Hange groaned as you gave their neck another playful bite enough to turn them on even more.

"You bet I do," they chuckled, their voice shifting into a sultry tone as they brought both your bodies closer to the headboard. Hange leaned their head back, poising their neck where you could feed from them properly.

Your tongue glided along their reddening bitemarks, grazing your teeth to that particular spot before slowly digging in. Hange winced as they felt the puncture through their skin, their blood pooling on your mouth even before it dripped down their chest. Hange gripped your hips tightly, snaking down your rear to squeeze the flesh as your teeth dug in even more. Curses and praises spilled from their lips, suppressing an occasional moan or two as their hands were filled with the flesh of your bottom. Your tongue lapped desperately against the sweet buttery taste of their blood, the crimson gliding in thick gulps against your throat. Hange only pushed your head further into their angled neck as an encouragement, their every moan telling you how aroused they felt.

When you drank enough, your bloodied lips kissed their wound, patching it up with a cloth to staunch the bleeding. Hange captured your lips on theirs, their slender fingers wrapping gently around your throat. They could taste iron in your mouth, intoxicated and lightheaded from the blood you fed from them. Hange sucked on your plump lip, flipping you over onto your back before sliding their tongue in to lick along yours. As your kisses grew passionate, both your lips turned a crimson shade.

Hange stripped off the rest of your clothing, enraptured by your lips against theirs, and of the healthy color appearing in your cheeks. They wanted a taste of you, to return the bliss you gave them.

Hange's notes lay ignored by the bedside, discarded somewhere else along the pile of your clothes and theirs. Your intimacy was bloodied, full of bites and traces of drying blood after you finished. But you could care less about the thin sheen of blood coating your breasts or thighs as your lips rested on Hange's for the final time before they collapsed in exhaustion in your arms. The warm, bubbly bath you soon had washed away all the crimson and pinkish traces on both of your skins. You washed and nursed their wound, enclosing the fresh bite in a soft and dry bandage.

Hange slept on your chest until evening, perhaps tired from the ordeal. But as you stroked their hair's brown locks into neat strands, you remembered that familiar hunger coming in occasional visits, one that was never satisfied until the prey was lifeless. But Hange was never your prey, and you never wanted to be the monster to end them. You placed a long kiss on their forehead, gaze lingering on their sleeping form for a few seconds before pulling away to sit up on the bed.

The idea of departing from this place tarried your mind ever since you discovered the taste of Hange's blood. I trust you, Hange said multiple times, and yet you could never trust yourself to that extent. After all, you were still a monster of the night, even if you wore a human appearance. No matter how much Hange loved and cherished you like a breathing, living being deserving of good things, you couldn't keep them forever. You never wanted to subject them to this cursed life of aimless wandering and feeding on humans to save yourself.

You held Hange's hand around yours, cold diminishing against their warmth as you began to think and decide before the sun rose once again.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3