#also for whoever tagged me before for other ask games but i never got to it im sorry ill get better at it next year again

[kulliare]

tagged by @shrips for 9 books you'd like to read in the new year! ty for the tag-- i tag @halfagod @albatrossisland @eponine119 @tru-lyly

[enwoso]

Ooh a bit of an angsty one!

Can we have something about when Alessia transferred from United to Arsenal and how grumpy reacted to the fans (not all fans but quite a lot of them) turning on Alessia?

Something about the transition period and how they adjusted to the new club please!

Love your writing so much!

FOR THE BETTER — alessia russo x child!reader

sorry to whoever requested this that it has taken me so long, i do apologise! this was supposed to be out last week but then i was ill and then life was busy so it’s been a bit delayed but hey better late than never eh?

ALSO thank you all for 400 followers i love and appreciate each and every one of you all<3🥹

navigation -> grumpy universe masterlist

the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind for alessia but even more so for you. you weren't used to change nor were you a big fan of change.

you'd had basically the same routine your entire life. same bedtime, same favourite teddy, same favourite colour, same amount of sweets you were allowed before bed.

it was all you had ever known and so was manchester.

so when you got home from being australia it was a little weird to you not be going back home with your auntie ella and the other united girls like you usually would after an england camp.

when leaving for the world cup you didn't realise that, that was going to be the last time you were going to be in that home in manchester, the last time you would wake up in that home.

instead, this time you were going back with lotte and the other girls who lived in london for some strange reason unknown to you.

"mummy! where auntie ella going?" you asked as sat on top of the trolley of suitcases as alessia had went to say goodbye to her best friend not knowing when she would next see her.

"back to manchester lovie" she smiled softly, her voice a little shaky. your eyebrows knitted together a litttle, "why we not go with her, we live dere too!" you pouted, your face struck with confusion.

"lovie, we had this talk before we went to australia" alessia had stopped in the airport, dismissing lotte who stood waiting for her. signalling that you'd catch them back up.

"talk?"

"about mummy,, moving to a new club" the blonde spoke calmly trying to re jog your little memory as your mouth opened to an 'o' shape. realisation hitting you that change was happening as the talk memory appeared back into your head.

"your here, i thought you were watching tv in my room" you jumped a little at the sound of your mummy's voice as she came into your room. you'd been playing a game with your dolls on your bedroom floor.

"you wan be this one?" you asked holding up a doll towards your mum as she smiled, nodding and joined you on your bedroom floor.

"before we play though, i actually need to talk to you" your mum sounded serious as a frown appeared on your face, mummy only ever wanted to 'talk' when you had done something you were not supposed to of.

"oh- your not in trouble lovie"

"so mummy has been asked to join a new football club, called arsenal" she explained to you as the doll in your hand dropped slightly. a slight silence filling the room.

"you still play here?" you asked as your mum shook her head, "no lovie it means we have to move down to london"

you paused for a minute, it processing in your head "oh, but who play tag with after training?" you sadly smiled, you would play tag with millie and ona after each training session.

"i'm sure many of the girls will love playing tag with you, beth and leah play there too" mummy said as you looked back up from the ground.

"from england?" you asked as mummy nodded. it took a little convincing from you but once alessia had assured you, after you were a bit hesitant you agreed and didn't feel as sad about leaving manchester.

since the day in the airport, you had settled into your new home in london. it had already been better than manchester as you already seeing your uncles and grandparents more in the past week than you had the entire time that you lived in manchester.

you had made friends at your new nursery, settling in quick — quicker than alessia expected. as well as decorating your room the colour you wanted as well as picking out a new bed, which mummy had described to you as being your first big girl bed.

alessia of course had already started training for preseason. however you hadn't had a chance to go to training with being at nursery so today would be the first time meeting your mummy's teammates.

you were scared.

you don't remember meeting the united girls, to you they had always been there. but mummy said that was because you were just a baby when you first met those girls.

walking hand in hand with your mummy, your other hand holding your elephant teddy, esme which you'd had since you were really little held close and tight to your chest.

your mummy leading you to where she would put her training bag away, along with your bag before leading you down the long corridors to where the team was having lunch.

the arsenal girls knew that you were coming today and had asked alessia what was the best way to introduce themselves to you, not wanting to make you feel overwhelmed by all the new faces.

alessia suggesting that it be one by one as you weren't the biggest fan of big crowds and being fussed over.

you tugged on your mums arm, asking to be picked up as she did placing you on her hip as she walked deeper into the room. there being a few faces which you recognised that being the three england girls but once you spotted some of the other girls you hid your face deep in your mum's neck.

"oh is that you tiny?" beth beamed as you kept your face hidden feeling the movement of alessia sitting down. her hand rubbing up and down your back to try and soothe you, hoping you would come out from your little shell you'd put yourself in.

"she's gone all shy" alessia shrugged as she tried to peel you from your hiding spot, only whines coming from you as you dug your face deeper into her chest.

"shy? if there's one thing tiny isn't and that's shy!" you heard leah say, as well as your mum hum as she nodded her head in agreement.

it was true when you had the chance you could easily talk for england and would most definitely come away with a gold medal in that type of competition. alessia had her brothers and ella to thank for your chattiness even though she loved to hear you ramble on about anything and everything.

“tiny! do you want to see these photos of myle?” beth tried this time, you had been obsessed with the little puppy that beth had just gotten. myle was so small and any time you were at beth’s you would sit and talk to myle — you considered myle to be one of your best friends since you’d moved to arsenal as she too was getting used to all the new faces just like you were.

this seemed to do the trick as you slowly peeled yourself from your mums chest, half your face turning to look at beth, as the other half was covered with your grey elephant teddy. beth who was on her phone more than likely looking for the photos.

you looked up to your mum still unsure as you could see out the corner of your eye the unknown faces of your mummy’s new teammates. your mummy smiling nodding her head enthusiastically as you slowly climbed down from her lap and over to beth who was sat in between leah and viv.

you fingers in your mouth, you other hand having esme the elephant in it as you walked nervously over to beth, standing next to her as she lifted you onto her lap.

her phone screen in front of you as she showed you an arrange of photos of myle, some with a little scarf wrapped around her collar, some of her just lying asleep around beth and viv’s apartment and the rest were myle with some of the girls who were sat in the room with you right now.

“who dat?” you pointed to one of the girls who was holding myle another one of the girls sat next to her as your face scrunched at the unknown people.

“that’s vic and steph, look their over there!” beth pointed the two girls out as they both noticed you looking at them sending you a small wave, as you returned it. alessia watching on as she talked with leah and viv a smile appearing on the blondes face as she watched you slowly come out of your shell.

beth carried on swiping through the photos as you had now learned who kyra, katie, caitlin and stina were sending them all a small shy wave as beth pointed them out in the canteen.

“who dis?” you pointed to the girl in the photo as beth has swiped to the next photo.

“and that’s lia” beth smiled as you looked at her confused, “no that not leah? le there” you frowned as you pointed to the blonde leah who was sat with your mum across the table from you.

beth chuckling lightly at your little misunderstanding, “no tiny, there’s another lia! look there” beth pointed to the other lia as you awh in realisation, sending the lia a little wave like you’d done with the other girls.

“there two leah’s?” you turn to look at beth, who nodded with a smile on her face.

beth carried on, pointing out each of the arsenal girls as you did your signature shy wave at them as beth felt a slight feeling of accomplishment that you’d began to come out your shell, yes you may have not actually met the girls properly but you’d been introduced to and anyway there was plenty of time for you to meet them, the arsenal girls would not only becoming your mummy’s new teammates but they in time would become part of your family.

alessia had now been at arsenal for a few months now and you both had fully settled in, your home in london had finally come together and your room was fully decorated and in your opinion a lot better than your room in manchester.

and now the league had started and you’d now become fully acquainted with all the girls and as your mum had expected once you’d come out your shell, you loved them all.

after beth sat you down and showed you all the girls, it took you a few days to learn all there faces but you had now learned all about them and they had learned all about you and your little habits too.

katie who you learned was irish and had an accent that you found funny as she would say some words funny like the word three always had you in stitches as it sounded like tree, she was cool too as she would let you get away with being a little naughty sometimes.

caitlin, steph and kyra were all australian, they all had a funny accent to you too but the three of them were all different. caitlin was quiet but she would always let you pass the ball to her and play tag with you once training was done.

steph would let you talk to her as she answered all your questions you had about australia especially after just spending the summer there. and kyra well she would help you cause trouble, she would always sit with you and colour as well as dance around the changing room with you when the music was on.

vic was someone who mummy would sometimes take to training, and who mummy would spent a lot of time with when at training. vic was dutch just like viv. and vic wasn’t a big fan of mummy’s driving and on a morning when you were going to training with the as you sat in the back vic would sometimes sit and complain about mummy’s driving as you would sit in the back in your car seat giggling.

and for lia it had taken you a few days to wrap your head around there being two leah’s as in your mind you had only met one leah and that was blonde leah. so you had decided to give them your own nicknames, leah one and lia two just so you didn’t get confused.

as for the rest of the girls they had all been very welcoming to you and your mummy, helping you both to fit in.

and now it was onto the second match of the season against manchester united, the first time alessia was going to be back since she left. to say she was a little nervous was an understatement but she was trying her best not to show it.

“you okay?” lotte asked knowing how much the blonde had been dreading this fixture to come, and it being so early on in the season was not helping. as she walked into the leigh sports village with alessia, you following suit next to her.

wearing your new arsenal shirt, russo printed on the back in big white capital letters over the top of your hoodie it being a cold october night down in manchester something alessia definitely wasn’t missing since moving back down south.

alessia didn’t say anything just nod as she looked over to her england teammate, her lip bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes making sure not to loose you as you three reached the changing room.

you sat on the bench quietly watching your ipad munching on a few snacks you’d been given as your mummy got changed and did her pre match routine.

“mummy?” you looked up from your ipad, your mum doing her hair as you watched her wrap her bobble around her bun. “yes lovie?” she smiled at you.

“we see auntie ella and mazza?” you asked, you knew that arsenal were playing manchester united as you had overheard mummy talking to auntie ella on the phone you then interrupting and talking to ella and how you were excited to see her after a few months not yet being totally used to not seeing her every single day of the week.

the excitement following through the entire week as it was all you had spoken about to anyone you’d seen, even the staff at your nurseries knew.

“after the game we can, i’m sure they are both just excited to see you” she smiled as you nodded excitedly, you little legs swinging from the bench as mummy kissed the top of your head before smoothing out her kit to change into, your attention going back to your ipad.

the match had now begun and was just nearing half time and you were sat with leah one who had come down on the bus with the team, but she still had a big ouchie on her knee meaning she couldn’t play.

you were wrapped in a blanket with your big thick puffer on which mummy had made sure to zip right up before she ran onto the pitch.

watching with a smile, but that smile quickly dropped as then you noticed.

the manchester united fans were booing your mummy. the same fans which would cheer and shout her name while asking her to sign and take photos with her just a few months ago. they were now booing.

the first time you thought maybe it was just a mistake, but then it happened again. every time your mummy touched the ball, they booed.

“why they booing?” you asked, as leah frowned not knowing how to exactly explain it to you but she could tell it was upsetting you.

“i’m not sure tiny” leah sighed as she pulled you onto her lap so you had a better view of the pitch. making sure your blanket was kept around you to keep you from the crisp cold air.

“me no like it” you huffed, a frown not replacing the smile that was on your face moments ago.

“it’s okay, look your mummy’s got the ball, she might score!” leah tried to turn your focus away from the sound of the booing but that’s all you could hear, it was ringing through your ears.

“stop! make it stop le!” you whined shoving your head into her chest as your fingers went into your ears. leah’s heart dropping as she watched you start to cry, deciding it was probably best to take you into back inside away from all the noise.

alessia watched each step that leah took, you in her arms. your face hidden, alessia knew straight away that the noise of the booing as well as the nasty chants were upsetting you. alessia had learned with time to block them out when she was playing but you were young and took things more sensitively.

leah had turned back to try and catch alessia’s eyes, quickly realising alessia was already watching leah. alessia mouthing a quick, ‘is she okay?’ knowing that was probably a silly thing to ask but she did always before running to get the ball from katie, still noticing the quick thumbs up that leah threw towards alessia.

the booing only spurred alessia on more, wanting to play that well that it would silence them. something the travelling arsenal fans had been good at, chanting louder than the many home fans.

leah took you back into the changing room just after half time has finished doing her best to calm you down and distract you — it taking a few laps around the inside of the stadium and a trip to the food van before the tears stopped.

back in the changing room, you sat down on the bench, your ipad propped up as you both began to watch a cartoon as you placed your blanket across your legs and leah knees being extra careful to not hurt her ouchie on her knee.

you both being very consumed by the bright light of the ipad screen you both didn’t even hear the sound of the changing room door go, the girls beginning to pile in at the end of the match.

“hey lovie” you mum cooed softly, placing a hand on your head slightly startling both you and leah. but you were quickly jumping into her arms as she twirled you around.

“you okay now?” she asked softly as you nodded, your arms wrapped around your mummy’s neck not wanting to let go. alessia rubbing her hand up and down your back as you placed a little kiss on your cheek, mouthing a thank you to leah who smiled nodding her head.

“good” alessia whispered, as you let go from hugging you mum as you sat on her hip. “why were they booing” you asked innocently, the same frown appearing from earlier, since you didn’t get a proper answer from leah, you might from mummy.

“there just upset i left that’s all lovie, there silly anyway and there nothing you-” your mummy began as your frown still stayed, “-need to worry about, okay” she finished booping your nose a small smile flashing on your lips.

“i know you love me and that’s all that matters” mummy told you with a smile as you nodded.

“now we need that smile to come back, cause i don’t think auntie ella and mazza will want to see you all grumpy!”

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Hello, hope you're doing alright. I have a pretty twisted one shot request concerning our amazing Shadowsinger. I was looking at the super natural dark dialogue prompts list and I feel like the #24 and #36 would fit perfectly for my request.

So basically: I was thinking about Azriel capturing the reader. She's a spy from the Spring Court and she was on a mission wandering at the border of the Night Court. When the reader wakes up, she's tied up in Azriel torture room. She also realizes how Azriel seems to be drawn to her. As she tries to find a way to make him untie her, she remembers something about Illyrians obssesion with bargains and deals. She offers to make a deal with him that the first one to make the other cum earn a favor. If she wins he spares her life, and if not he can kill her. And like as they conclude the pack, a tattoo appears on both of them and bla bla bla... and she ends up winning this challenge maybe?

Can't wait to see if you'll be willing to write this! I think it would have a lot of potential if written by you. Anyways, keep up your good work. I love your writing.

Okay, I know I said my next release would be the POM bonus bits, and then I’d be working on my other pieces, but I got this request and had immediate inspiration for it, so here it is!

Thank you to whoever sent this in! I hope I did it justice. It was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

The prompts you requested to be included in this will be written in bold.

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone in this because I desperately need to sort out my tag lists and haven’t had the chance. I’ll add them later if I get the time. Sorry!

Warnings: Smut! 18+, minors dni. NSFW. Some details of aggressive behaviour. Azriel being a sore ass LOSER.

Lust is a Losing Game — Azriel x Reader.

You can feel the caress of Night before your eyes open.

Every single court you have trespassed and traversed has its own distinct feel. The Autumn Court feels perpetually — and unsurprisingly — like a stroll through a forest, touched by brisk air and hues of oranges, yellows, reds. Your home court — Spring — has a feeling of renewed hope; like the first rays of sun after a long, harsh winter.

The Night Court is blood-drenched, rippling darkness, and the allure of scandal, of want, of lust.

Night time is for secrets and exploration. It’s for burning the bridge between who you are in the daylight and becoming something…else. It’s exciting, and it’s coaxing, and—

Cold, sharp metal prods beneath your chin. Its point is lethal. Any wrong move, and you’re bleeding.

Perhaps even more lethal is the quiet voice that commands, “Eyes open.”

Slowly, you comply — because you are both intrigued and wise. Intrigued by where you went wrong and where you ended up. Wise, because you know that cold, granite voice.

It doesn’t surprise you in the least to open your eyes and find Azriel the shadowsinger stood in front of you, his blade at your throat.

You know of him, of course — spymaster of the Night Court, a rare species of fae, far more powerful than many realise. You’ve sat across from him during terse meetings between courts and been the target of those guarded, icy stares. You’ve never heard him utter more than a few words at a time; he is spoken for by reputation, by violence and threat and battle.

But you’d know that voice anywhere.

You peer up at him through eyes blurred by some sort of power. And when your lips tilt up into a smile, a subtle tick of his jaw tells you it incenses him.

“Hello, Azriel.” You rasp.

The blade presses into your skin as he asks, “What were you doing at the border of our court?”

“Picking wildflowers. Foraging berries. Making a daisy chain. All the things a lady loves to do.”

A quiet noise sounds in his throat. “Is that what you are? A lady?”

“I’m whatever you want me to be, shadowsinger.”

His answering smile is cruel. A harsher press, and his blade nicks your throat. A drop of warm blood blooms on your skin.

Your eyes, rapidly clearing, take quick stock of your surroundings. The room is dark and damp and cold, empty save for the chair on which you sit — to which you are constrained. You can scent the blood of a thousand previous victims of the shadowsinger, and you imagine the vacancy of the space must have been more intimidating to them, somehow, than if the room were filled to the brim with torture instruments. The lack thereof tells anyone who finds themselves here that the Night Court’s spymaster does not need such things to do his work.

You try to shift in the chair, and find yourself well and truly stuck in place. Your gaze drops to your feet, where shadows act as manacles, as firm and strong and steel. Though your hands are restrained around the back of the chair, the cool touch tells you that a shadow binds them, too.

Azriel follows your gaze. A smug smile graces his mouth as he watches you try and fail to move.

“An impressive little trick.” You offer, nodding to the shadows around your ankles. “Now be a gentleman and untie me.”

“Tell me what you were doing at our border, and maybe I will.”

“Tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

“You’re not really in the position to barter, right now, are you?”

“And yet, here I am.” You smile. “Bartering.”

He stares down at you, shrouded in shadows, in night. His aloofness has been perfected over centuries, but you somehow know where to look in order to tell — you’re getting on his nerves.

A slight angling of his head. Shifting on his feet. He drags the tip of that blade up, not pressing quite hard enough to draw more blood, but to make a twisted heat enter your veins. The blade stops at your cheek.

“I don’t know how you do things in the Spring Court.” His breath caresses your face. “But I can’t imagine it’s part of your job description to be a smartass who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

Your eyes flick down to that blade. Back up to his gaze. “I can’t imagine it’s part of yours to lust over me so tirelessly.”

The shadowsinger actually falters.

Something tells you he would never do that in front of somebody else.

His teeth grit. He bites out, “Tell me why the fuck you were at the border—”

“I’ve seen you, you know.” A satisfied smirk curls your lips. You will not give away that your arms and legs are beginning to ache. “I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years.”

A clatter bounces off the walls as he tosses his dagger to the floor. Can’t be one that means much to him, then. You almost laugh, but a scarred hand is gripping your chin to the point of pain. He tilts — yanks — your chin up. “Pray, tell, how do I look at you?”

“With hunger.”

“Hatred.”

“Lust.”

“Loathing.”

“Like you want to touch me.”

“I am going,” he snarls, “to wrap my hands around your throat and—”

“Fuck me?”

“Kill you.”

A mocking pout puckers your lips. “Less sexy.”

"You must be a fool," his fingers bite into your skin, "to laugh in the face of such danger."

"What danger would that be? You've handed me your threats. What are you waiting for, Azriel? Kill me."

He could easily retrieve his blade and gut you then and there. You know it. He knows it.

And yet he doesn't do it.

He clenches his jaw so hard that you hear his teeth clash. He squeezes your chin, calluses and scars grazing you. It feels...good.

But then a growl is ripping from deep within his chest, and he's tearing his hand away and pivoting on the spot. He's confident enough in the shadow bindings to turn his back to you, clearly.

You just smile. He can't do it. Can't kill you.

"I'll do you the courtesy of asking one last time." His voice is strained. "Why were you snooping around our border."

"Perhaps I was hoping you'd find me and tie me to a chair. I'm into that kind of stuff, you know. We could make this fun."

"You think this room is intended for fun?"

"I think you and I could have fun anywhere, shadowsinger."

He says nothing. You watch as he sucks in a deep breath, steels himself. By his command, a shadow dances out and retrieves his blade from the floor. His fist flexes at his side.

Perhaps you can irritate him enough that he'll either kill you or let you leave out of pure exasperation. Or turn on the tears and plead innocence, that you're just a foolish, foolish girl doing her High Lord's bidding.

Or perhaps you can have fun.

You scan your brain for what you know about this court. How you can use it to your advantage — use Azriel to your advantage. An idea knits itself in the twisted avenues of your mind.

"This court has a thing for bargains, does it not?" You watch Azriel's shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. "How about making a bargain with me?"

He chokes on a scoff. "Why would I want to make a bargain with you?"

"Because you want me."

Slowly, he turns. His eyes are narrowed, mouth pinched. He looks two seconds away from using that blade to wipe your head clean from your neck.

But then he smiles, cruelly and coldly. "How very sure of yourself you sound."

You mimic that smile. "I am." Damn right you are. "So here is my deal: you toy with that lust however you like. We tease each other. Coax reactions from each other."

"Where is the bargain in that?" No outright refusal.

"If I make you cum first, shadowsinger," your eyes fall to his breeches. You could swear you glimpse the outline of a bulge. "If I make you cum first, I get to walk out of here with my head still attached to my body. But if you make me cum first...well. You get to know why I was snooping around the Night Court border, and you can send my head back to my High Lord in a pretty little box."

He stares at you for what feels like so, so long. Head to toe, his eyes rake over you. His shadows whisper in his ears, things you don't need nor care to hear.

Because you might not have his shadows, but you are a spy, just as he is. And you know his mind is already made up.

Shadowsinger, spymaster, feared member of the infamous Night Court — but still, a male weakened by lust. Lust for you that has driven him mad for a long, long time.

Still, he tries to keep up a front. He sneers at you, "You'd so willingly barter away your life?"

You smile. Simply, prettily. "It turns me on."

Oh, he's lost to his need. There's a newer scent that has joined the present ones of cedar and night-chilled mist and bloodstains. This one is deeper, smokier. Spicier.

He points his blade at you, the tip glimmering. And the shadow binds fall away as he demands, "Undress."

Your hands fall back to your sides. "Are you saying you agree to my terms?"

"Yes. Now take. Your fucking. Clothes off."

"What way is that to talk to a lady?"

"You are no lady—" His words fall short as, with a snap of your fingers, your clothes disappear. Leave you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes drink in the brassiere, the silky little fabric that hangs from your hips. He swallows. "And I am no gentleman."

A spy you may be — someone who throws themself into danger and risk and dirt and blood, time and time again. But you never see a reason not to wear pretty underwear while doing so. And gods, in this moment, you're very glad of that choice.

It's the same colour as the siphons that adorn the male before you. The coldness in Azriel's eyes is replaced by intense, raw heat. He takes a step towards you, but you kick out a leg.

"Your turn." You say.

He pauses. Chucks his dagger aside again.

And then his clothes are gone.

He doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by the fact that he stands utterly naked before you. So much golden, sculpted skin on show. All over, white scars tell the stories of previous injuries. His body is a novel written over time.

That silky underwear of yours is already soaked as you take your fill of him. For a moment, you think you might stumble in your bravado. He's huge and hard and standing to attention. Utterly perfect.

But you sit up straight in the chair and plant your hands on the arms. Your legs part, and Azriel hungrily tracks the movement.

"There is only one rule." You tell him. "We don't want to make this too easy, after all."

His jaw flexes. Eyes don't stray from the growing damp patch between your thighs. "What's the rule."

"You can touch me. You can lick me. You can put your cock in my mouth and my hand and rub it against my skin. But you can't fuck me."

He starts, pupils blowing wide. "But—"

"Not today." Your lips curl up. "But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me."

"You are wicked."

"Do you accept my rule?"

"Yes."

You are wicked, indeed. You widen that gap between your legs until you're hooking them over the arms of the chair. Baring your silk-covered cunt to him. His eyes damn near roll into the back of his head at the sight.

"Do you think you can stand to touch me without fucking me?" You hum, your fingers dancing down to that, sweet, sweet spot. You run them over the dampness, biting your lip. "I don't think you can."

"You underestimate me." Azriel growls. "And you're going to cum first."

There is no opportunity for you to volley a response. Not as Azriel surges forward and yanks you out of the chair, his arms securing you. His firm, velvety cock presses against your stomach. His lips slide over yours in a harsh, bruising kiss.

A male of natural elegance and grace, he doesn't even falter in the kiss or his steps as he marches you back, back, until you're pressed up against a cold wall. You nip his bottom lip and reach between your bodies, wanting to feel the pulsing weight of his cock in your palm, but his hands are grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head.

"No hands." He snarls onto your lips. "Just my cock and your cunt. Whoever cums first is the loser."

You almost want to laugh. So, so easy this will be.

But then he's letting go of your hands and pinning you with a knee. And out of fucking nowhere, a slim bottle appears between his fingers. You watch, leaning against the cold surface of the wall, as he pulls the stopper out of the bottle and tilts it towards you.

Oil drips onto your chest. Rolls down your breasts, your stomach. Azriel watches with predatory focus as it floods to where he wants it — soaking your underwear.

The blue silk darkens, sticks to your skin. Showcases everything that Azriel so desperately wants, but everything he will not get — today.

And then so quickly, he's hoisting your leg at his hip. So quickly, his cock is pressing into your soaking undergarments.

He positions his length between your thighs and guides it through your clothed folds. Both of you let out an immediate gasp at the taunting sensation — that a mere bit of fabric separates you from what you both want.

"Is this how you're going to play it?" Your head falls back, teeth digging into your lower lip. "You think thrusting through my clothes is going to stop you from cumming?"

"No." He makes a small noise, slowly rolling his hips. Watches his glistening cock rubbing against the silk. "But I think I'm going to make you cum fast from it."

"And then you get to kill me."

"And then," the head of his cock nudges your clit, "I get to kill you."

The sensation is divine, you can’t deny it. A coiled, aching pleasure that sits tightly in your lower belly. Azriel hears your intake of breath, and he smiles like this will be easy for him. You’re having none of that.

You’re thankful for your refined stealth and balance as you clamp your leg tighter around him, pull him harder against you. His hands press flat against the wall either side of your head, and you both gasp as his cock rubs so torturously against you, up and down and up and down.

“Gods,” He grunts, dipping down to brush his lips against yours. “This is torture.”

You smile. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to remove my underwear? You still can’t fuck me, though.”

A suffering groan chokes out of him, and he throws his head back. Because yes, he fucking wants you to remove your underwear. Yes, he wants to feel his bare skin rubbing against your bare skin.

But gods, the temptation to slide his cock into you is going to be unbearable.

But even though he knows that, and you know that, he smiles like this is nothing. He bites out, pleasure wavering his voice, “Why not? It’ll only make you lose.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” You say, and then your underwear is gone, leaving you naked and dripping with nothing to shield you.

Not expecting it so fast, Azriel’s cock slides easily through your folds — and the head nudges your entrance. Very nearly slips in. He growls and halts the roll of his hips.

“Oops.” You smirk. “Careful, shadowsinger.”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” He bites back, and then he’s kissing you.

The kiss robs you of breath and of words. All you can do is twine your arms around his neck and welcome the sensation of him fucking through your folds, your wetness his pleasure. You’re lost to the feeling of him bumping against your clit, rubbing against it. Your legs are beginning to tremble.

“I want to fuck you.” Azriel moans, dropping his head to take in the sight of his cock against your pussy, never entering, never going deeper.

“I know.” Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “And you have wanted to for a very long time.”

“Yes.” He can’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“You think about me.”

“Yes.”

“You wonder what it’s like to be inside me.”

“Yes.”

“But not today.” Your hands stroke down his muscled arms, and you moan as he grinds his cock against your clit. “Not today.”

“Nor any other day.” His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head up. “Because I will have your head. Cum for me, lady.”

He kisses you again, and gods, you want to cum. Every single inch of you begs and trembles for it. You’re clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you, fucking into you, spilling into you—

But through your pleasured haze, you remember: you will be victorious. Azriel cannot win.

And so when he’s kissing you and kissing you, moans catching in his throat and landing in your mouth, hips faltering with every thrust, you pull your lips from his and sink your teeth into his neck with a harsh bite. You’ve always imagined he’d like that.

And simultaneously, you lock him between your thighs and roll your hips torturously slow, dragging every last sensation from him.

Azriel’s cock, nestled snugly between the folds of your cunt, spasms and twitches. He slams his hands against the wall and goes still. Tries to pull back the control.

But it’s too late for that.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and then ropes of cum are spurting out of him and landing on your stomach, your breasts, your arms. Beads of it roll down his cock. He trembles hard, panting, groaning, growling.

And you suck harshly at his neck. Suck until it leaves a mark. And then pull away with a smile.

Breathing so, so heavily, Azriel’s gaze drops down to his cock like the damn thing has betrayed him. He’s wide-eyed and outraged. He’s not sure what’s just happened.

A horrid longing still aches between your legs and makes you want to continue until you’re exploding, too. But the triumph of a win is pleasure in itself.

“Well, well, well.” You glance down at the cum now coating your skin. “I do believe I was right.”

“What—” Azriel breathes, shaking out of his lust. “What kind of witchcraft was that?” He touches his neck, where you bit him. As though the answer lies there.”

You shrug. “No witchcraft, though I’m flattered you think so. You simply lost the game.”

“I. Don’t. Lose.”

“You just did.” You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

He rips away, so fast that you almost fall. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Gladly.” With a snap of your fingers, you’re squeaky clean and clothed once more. Azriel’s clothes return, too. “And I’ll do so with my pretty head still on my shoulders—

“Get out.”

“Because I won the game—”

“Get. Out.”

“A bargain’s a bargain, after all—”

“I will not tell you again.” His hand grabs the back of your neck, hard enough to bruise, and he marches you to the door, yanking it open. “Out.”

You’re thrown into a dim-lit hallway, your body colliding with a cold brick wall. You throw Azriel a smile over your shoulder, despite your teeth singing at the impact.

“Try not to wank over me too much!” You call, as he slams the door shut behind him. “See you around!”

It’s only once you’ve winnowed back to your own court, and you’re bathing the day from your skin, that you notice the small black band inked into your upper arm. You scrub at it until it’s red raw. It doesn’t budge.

The mark of a bargain. But you had always believed that the tattoos of bargains disappeared once the terms were fulfilled…

But if I win, and I walk out of here? Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me…

It had all been bravado. And yet…it had unwittingly been woven into the bargain.

Some other time, Azriel, you can fuck me.

That’s the only way you’re getting that mark off your skin.

[cheesus-doodles]

For Yandere BFF Rindo, it seems like he's just a baby in denial (totally in love with bestie but unwilling to admit it and covers by saying its a best friend thing (totally not a boyfriend thing)). Based off your "Opinions about Dating BFF Reader", a question has been sparked.

What would happen if BFF herself asked Rindo to date/why aren't they dating? BFF has heard from other people that when a boy and a girl like each other alot and never want to be apart that means they should date. It totally sounds like an upgrade from BFF (isn't dating just like being super BFF's with kissing?) Once bestie gets an idea in her head she doesn't seem to let up or let go of it, so how would Rindo handle bestie insisting that they should date/aren't they basically dating already? (Or alternatively, does Rindo succeed in convincing bestie that she is mistaken and then proceeds to beat up whoever put these ideas in her head)

I totally can imagine Ran catching wind of this bestie thinks she should be dating Rindo agenda and egging it on (either to annoy Rindo or because he can see how obsessed Rindo is with bestie and thinks it'll do him some good to be able to claim a more official possessive position in her life)

been working on A Friend in Me but also got caught up in the TR Puzz Reve game ;-; so sorry if things get a bit slow here

Recommended Reading: Opinions on dating BFF Bimbo Reader

Masterlist | Rindo Tags

‎

I previously answered about Rindo being asked by an external party on dating you and how it would react, but I honestly think that the same question coming from you would get a totally different reaction.

Under every circumstance, Rindo will absolutely just freeze up and short circuit the first time you ask about dating. Not because its a strange question to ask, given its something he not only have been asked multiple times before, but also have considered before himself, but because ya know, it’s you of all people. The one person he never expects to know anything beyond what he teaches you.

Yes sure, he knows that you love to read those sappy romance books whenever you sleepover (cause you need him to explain the story to you, and god only knows why this baby boy continues to keep them in his room for you). But he has always made sure to always trick you with regards to what those stories were actually talking about, so where on earth did you hear about dating from?

Asks you to repeat your question as if he didn't hear it the first time, but ends up cutting you off halfway and demanding to know who you heard that from - Rindo's not going to let you leave until he finds out where you learnt that close friends should date, claiming that it's dangerous to listen to others beside him.

Did he actually have feelings for you beyond being a caring, overprotective bestfriend? Irrelevant, in this boy's opinion, especially so right now when there is clearly a more pressing issue to solve at hand.

‎‎

But after this stage, Rindo's next actions depend on the current situation the two of you find yourself in.

If it's still just you and Rindo against the world, then this boy would immediately try to change your mind. If you are already insisting that the two of you are essentially dating (since the two of you were already super BFFs right?), Rindo would try his best to persuade you that you had the wrong idea, that dating and having being BFFs were completely different things and that you were completely mistaken in your understanding.

Would do his best to try and find out where you heard it from so that he can have a little talk to set things straight (hoping to anyone out there it isn't Ran because fuccckkkkk). And you'll get to hear straight from the horses mouth on how having a boyfriend was bad for you and you shouldn't aspire to have one. If you heard it from Ran then Rindo just has to convince you to stop talking to his stupid older brother because what else can he do?

However, if you do continue to insist that the two of you are already dating or that you two should start, then Rindo would very reluctantly go along with it with with several conditions, essentially that it would be no different from when the two of you were just BFFs, and that you weren't allowed to tell anyone else about this "dating" without his express permission, especially not Ran.

Anything more than calling himself your bestfriend would not be processable in Rindo's mind, and honestly the idea of kissing for this baby boy is so out there at this point in time that he can't even comprehend it without his brain melting down and him having to reset.

‎

If this occurs after you have already met Kakucho and worse, Izana, then no doubt that Rindo would immediately agree to being your boyfriend the moment you bring it up. No questions asked. Sure the mere thought of being your boyfriend would bring a blush to his face and he can barely speak without stammering about how you were being so stupid right now, but he knows that allowing you to say that you had a boyfriend and that you were dating him would help to fend off unwanted attention.

He will no doubt start to work on fear-mongering you into thinking that he was doing you an absolute favor because did you know how bad it is to have a boyfriend?? And whoever told you otherwise is lying, especially Izana, though he only says this out of earshot. And hopefully you don't repeat this to the Tenjiku gang leader because god only knows how many beatings he would get in retaliation.

Absolutely worth it though, if you reject any and all other advances, because you can't keep yourself safe even if life on earth depends on it, and Rindo can't trust you with drinking from a straw if he isn't watching.

But at the same time, this baby boy becomes just so shy about doing anything with you and even more self-conscious. What if other people get the wrong idea about what you mean to him? What if people stop seeing him as a delinquent but see him as some mush? So he switches to holding your hand in private, or where people can't watch because of the implications, but Rindo quickly caves when you start pouting.

‎

Ran no doubt would absolutely encourage your behavior the moment he finds out, and he will because you simply can't keep your mouth shut. This poor older brother not only will enjoy the free real estate of laughs and wiggling eyebrows at his younger brother, but also the peace and quiet of Rindo having some sort of security over you. No more late nights of being awaken by Rindo storming over to your place early in the morning, or being dragged out of bed by another suspicious post on social media.

Rindo's obsession with you has been so obvious from the start that Ran doesn't know why he hasn't just upgraded himself from the start, but honestly he'll be rich before he can mind-read what goes through Rindo's head. Ran would definitely be the sort to take the opportunity not only to pester and annoy Rindo with innuendos and seemingly harmless questions about marriage, but also go behind the poor boy's back to plant the same questions on you to ask your bestfriend.

[harringtonswriting]

Bestie. Bestie you know I have to. Obsessed with:

“this sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “...i have been trying to do that for three years now.”

Steve or Eddie, whoever your heart desires 💓

bestie i looooooove this!!! thank u thank u for sending it in!! i picked eddie hehehe i hope you don't mind!! 💕

...

“You sure this is enough food, Eddie?”

You’re teasing him, and you know he knows that, which is why he rolls his eyes with a smile on his face as he opens a bag of chips to pour into a bowl.

“You laugh now, but when you see how much food those little shits can put away, you’ll understand,” he tells you. He scrunches the empty bag in his hands before he throws it in the garbage bin under the kitchen sink. The kitchen counter, as well as the table, are all covered in various kinds of snacks, from chips to cookies to candy. Eddie’s also got beers in the fridge for him (and maybe Steve, but if Steve’s driving he probably won’t have any, which you know Eddie is counting on so he can have more for himself), along with juice and pop. A feast fit for a king, he’d told you when he called you earlier that morning and asked you to pick up a few things on your way over to his place.

Today is the day that Eddie is going to be teaching you, Robin, and Steve how to play Dungeons and Dragons.

He’s so proud of himself for finally being able to talk the three of you into it. This is what he told you would be a one-shot; a one-off adventure that’s only supposed to take a few hours, something that’ll let you get your feet wet and understand how things work before you join a campaign. Eddie had tasked you with creating your own characters, giving you a list of options and some basic ideas for backstory. He’d also invited some of the kids to join in too—you knew Dustin and Erica would be coming for sure, and you’d bet that Lucas, Mike, and Will would probably tag along too.

Since there were going to be that many people joining in, Eddie had asked you to come by early to help him set up. Wayne is out of town on a fishing trip, so you’ve all got the trailer to yourselves. It didn’t take long for you to help Eddie with some spot cleaning in the living room when you’d gotten there, last minute snacks and drinks in hand, and then you’d set up the new coffee table so that everyone could sit around it and play. While Eddie was bringing out his maps and books and gaming screen and shooing Ozzy away from knocking over his miniature figures, you were placing cushions and blankets on the floor to make it as cozy as possible.

Once you’d finished that the two of you had gotten all the snacks ready. And now that was done, the two of you could relax and spend some time together until the others got there. Which may be part of the reason you agreed to come over early; you enjoyed spending time with Eddie, especially when it was just the two of you, and you figured this would be no exception.

Your crush on Eddie was kind of an open secret, though neither of you had ever done anything about it. You’d always been kind of unsure as to whether he felt the same way; sometimes he’d flirt back, sometimes he’d ignore it altogether. But he never complained and never once told you he was uncomfortable, though you’d never really talked about it in detail. You hoped that one day you might cross the line you’d been toeing at for the last few years, but given how open you’ve been, you wanted to let Eddie take that leap, let him decide when he’s ready. If he ever is. You hope he will be.

But for now, you grab a glass of water for yourself and Eddie cracks open a beer.

“Hey, lemme see your character information before everyone else gets here,” he says, taking a long drink before putting his beer down, and making a grabby hands gesture towards you.

“I thought you wanted everyone to wait to introduce their characters when we start.” That was what he’d told you before, and Steve and Robin had confirmed he’d told them the same thing when the three of you had gotten together to try and come up with characters so that you didn’t accidentally all choose the same thing. Not that you’d told Eddie you did that, though Steve probably ended up telling Dustin.

“Yeah, but you’re different,” he insists, and you feel your cheeks get warm as you smile and roll your eyes. You go and grab your bag to fish out the notebook you’d done all your writing and planning in; once you’ve got it, you put your bag back and hand it to Eddie. He starts thumbing through the pages, scanning over what you’d written while he hums to himself. He doesn’t make any comments out loud, though, and the longer he goes without saying anything the more self-conscious you start to feel. Does he love it? Hate it? You can’t tell based on his expression, though you see the way that one of his legs is bouncing, which means he’s thinking.

“What, never seen a character that good before?” you ask, your tone teasing as you break the silence between you. Eddie’s leg stops bouncing and he shakes his head.

“Oh, yes, this is a masterpiece. Shut up and let me read,” he says, no real heat in his voice as he rolls his eyes. You raise your eyebrows and lift the corners of your lips up into a smirk.

“Maybe you should make me,” you tell him, the words rolling off your tongue as you lean against the counter. You’re absolutely aware of how it sounds, and by the way that Eddie’s cheeks start turning a bright pink you know he is, too. You can’t help yourself, though, because you do love flirting with him. Even if it goes nowhere. His leg stops bouncing, and you see him grip your notebook just a little bit tighter in his hands. He doesn’t look up, though. It’s silent for a moment until he clears his throat.

“You know, that sounds like you’re flirting with me,” Eddie says. He seems to be maybe a little confused, or maybe he’s teasing you. Does he not know that you really were flirting with him? You wish he’d look up so you could see his eyes; they’re always so expressive, showing off what he tries to hide, but you can’t see them now. And so now you’ve got a choice: you can deny it, or you can admit it. And you aren’t quite sure how he’d react to either option.

Well… this could be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, so you say, “...I’ve been trying to do that for three years now.”

This time, Eddie drops your notebook. It hits the ground and a few loose pages flit out to land by your feet. He looks up at you, brown eyes impossibly wide as his mouth hangs open just a bit. You straighten up from where you’re leaning on the counter, feeling nerves start to creep in. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

“Wait, I’m sorry, how long?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer before he continues with, “Three years?” He seems to be in complete shock, and while you’re feeling nervous, you’re also a tiny bit offended.

“Did you really not know?” Was your flirting really that bad? You didn’t think so, at least not until now. Robin and Steve could tell you were flirting with Eddie, with how much they’d teased you about it once they’d figured it out, and you were pretty sure some of the others you both hung around with knew too. How did Eddie not pick up on it? Steve said the guy was dense, sure, but you’d always thought it was an exaggeration.

“I thought you did that with everyone!” Eddie’s throwing his hands in the air, the apples of his cheeks going from pink to red and the blush starts creeping down his neck. It’s cute, but it’s probably not the time to tell him that.

“No, just you!” Which is the truth; you didn’t flirt with anyone else the way you did with Eddie, at least not on purpose. But apparently he hadn’t picked up on that.

“Oh my god,” he says, and his hands come down to tangle in his thick, black curls. He starts muttering it to himself, and the lack of a positive reaction is starting to eat at you. Your stomach twists because maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you’ve overstepped, here, and Eddie doesn’t feel the same way as you. Which would explain why you’ve spent the last three years, since the day he’d walked into your shared English class with a well-worn copy of The Hobbit and did his book report on how Tolkien had shaped modern fantasy. His passion, his eagerness, and the way he talked with his hands completely endeared him to you, and you’d asked him to explain the difference between hobbits and dwarves to you after class. That’s when it all started. But here, in his kitchen, seeing how Eddie is reacting, you wonder if maybe this wasn’t all some big mistake.

“Eddie, it’s fine that you don’t feel the same way, and I promise I’ll stop now that I know it makes you uncomfortable,” you tell him, bending down to gather up your loose papers and shove them back into your notebook. You swallow past the large lump forming in your throat, a little embarrassed by it all as you stand back up. “I’m sorry. I… I should probably go before the others get here.” There’s no way you’re sticking around after this; you don’t know if you can spend the next few hours thinking about this with everyone else around.

“Wait!” Eddie’s exclamation takes you by surprise, and his hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist. His hand is warm, a reassuring weight that brings you out of your thoughts. You look at him, and while his cheeks are still red, he’s got a serious look on his face that you rarely get to see. “Sweetheart, I promise it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I just can’t believe I didn’t notice before now. Please don’t leave.” Which loosens the lump, just a bit, and he tilts his head a little as he smiles at you. It’s a little bashful, his head ducking slightly. “Also, I never said I don’t feel the same way. Just so you know.”

“Sweetheart?” you ask, picking up on the new moniker he’s using. It’s cute, and it’s got your chest swelling with hope because maybe he does feel the way you do. He opens his mouth to reply when there’s a loud bang on the front door.

“Hey, Eddie, open up!” It’s Dustin Henderson, no doubt with the others behind him, and Eddie jumps just a bit.

“Shit! I hate Henderson’s timing,” he curses, and you can’t help the laugh that comes out at how Eddie’s face falls into a pout. Not that he’d ever admit to pouting, of course. “Look, we definitely need to talk about this, I want to talk about this, but if I don’t let them in, Henderson's gonna keep doing that til he breaks the door down.” Which wouldn’t surprise you. You nod, smiling at Eddie.

“Eddie! Open the damn door!” Dustin continues, banging louder this time.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Eddie lets go of your wrist, sighing. He raises his voice, yelling out, “Dustin Henderson, I will not hesitate to give you disadvantage on all your saves if you don’t give me a damn minute!”

Dustin immediately ceases his banging on the door, and instead lets out a frustrated yell before he falls silent.

“We’ll talk after the game, okay, sweetheart? I promise on my honour as Eddie the Banished, Master of Dungeons, that we’ll talk and you can flirt as much as you want, as long as I can flirt back.”

“If you know how to flirt back,” you tell him, and he lets out the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard as he walks over to the door to let in an angry Dustin, a grinning Robin, and the other exasperated members of the party.

[aspd-culture]

@brandon666

First off, you have some *really* inaccurate ideas of what ASPD is. Do you think we can survive in the world acting like you expect me to act? Far more often, pwASPD appear detached and callous rather than actively hostile the way you're saying. We aren't 12 year old kids on Xbox Live voice chat, * s p o o k y voice* we are all around you. You wouldn't be able to pick most of us out of a crowd, even if you had direct interaction with us. In fact, a running joke here and in my real life is that people often tell pwASPD "don't worry, I can sniff out a s*ciop*th a mile away" or similar not realizing they're talking shit about us to our face.

There *are* pwASPD who are still entirely valid who act the way you're saying - and also plenty of prosocials who behave like that too. But it isn't all of us, all the time. Most of us are capable of and maybe even prefer to be cool, calm, and calculated about how we speak and act because of the trauma we have.

Unlike people on TV like Dr. House, there are real life consequences to the behavior you describe, and many of us strive not to be happy, but for life to be as convenient as possible. Kinda hard to get convenience while you're pissing everyone off. Ever heard the part of ASPD where they mention we are manipulative and charismatic? Yeah that isn't exactly compatible with being crass, careless, pranking, or offensive. Careless actually specifically bothers me because we are often said to "play a social chess game" with people we talk to. Many of us are extremely calculating and overly cautious. And many of us aren't, but it certainly isn't like you're saying all the time. Even pwASPD who *do* act like that usually are calm and "respectful" sometimes.

Also, I never claimed to be unmasked on this blog. Most of the time, I am absolutely masking to some degree - although much less than IRL. You can actually see that in the tags, I use "a rare unmasked aspd-culture" as a joke about this fact. Whilst this is a safe place for other pwASPD to unmask if they'd like, my posts on this blog are different. My side of this is helping educate people - prosocial, antisocial, whoever - if/when they have questions for me about ASPD which is fairly frequent. This isn't to say I am not ok with unmasking here, like I said it's happened before, but consider the context of what's happening.

I'm often asked genuine questions about ASPD, some of which are ableist (almost always on accident!) and many of which are based on extremely common misconceptions. If I were to unmask while answering those, I would end up being really shitty to people who are trying to learn - often people who want to do better for the pwASPD in their life, or for themselves. We talk about coping mechanisms and the development of ASPD a lot here; with those topics there is little room for my unmasked behavior *and* education. If I were to unmask while answering, no one would be getting anything out of asking those questions even if I was providing info because it's hard to take in new information from someone when they're being defensive or hostile.

I don't want to be hostile towards them, I want to help because if ASPD is ever going to be destigmatized, someone has got to answer their questions and help show them what it is and what it isn't! We can't expect prosocials to fend for themselves in the cesspool of stigma that the typical google results on ASPD show - someone has to help them. And since one of my special interests (something autistic ppl like myself have and love to infodump about) is mental health, especially my own disorders, I am happy to be one of the people they can ask these sometimes tough questions to.

I am also helping pwASPD! Many questions I get are people trying to understand their own disorder or the disorder they think they might have. It sucked for me, learning this all on my own (and I'm still learning too), so I can use the cognitive empathy I've taught myself over the years and remember the feelings I went through when I was trying to find unbiased info.

There's a transaction here - a major part of ASPD if you didn't know - I calmly and respectfully answer people's questions, and the world becomes slightly less ignorant and we get a slight amount of progress on destigmatizing this disorder. That makes my life easier too. In the process, I see many culture asks that remind me I'm not alone in this. Often, posting those gives me some catharsis, and you will sometimes see me going off in the tags about what I've dealt with. But for the most part, I'm giving other pwASPD an open space to unmask as well as to ask questions to someone who will, 95% of the time, give a masked and respectful answer. Friendly is a stretch tho lol unless you missed the original post about the syscourse that you commented this on.

So yeah, long and short, you're definitely missing something here and that's ok. Just learn and do better. I know you might see that as another thing that is flying in the face of ASPD or whatever, but it's no skin off my back if you think I have ASPD or not, and anyway I'd rather you just learn and maybe next time someone says something like that to/around you about ASPD, you'll have the knowledge to correct it. Spreading info is an exponential situation - once I tell you guys things, some of you will inevitably tell someone else that, and so on and so forth until a good handful of people now know things about ASPD they didn't before. If not, oh well. I got to infodump and see relatable posts that made me feel seen.

Either way, it's been, and hopefully will continue to be, a net positive. You are absolutely welcome to keep this dialogue going if you have questions, want clarification, are enraged that I gave you a calm response, whichever. Even if you don't get anything out of this, someone else seeing it might.

I'll really fuck with you now - I genuinely hope you have a good day.

[rose-tinted-vision]

Fic: 只为他 袖手天下 | For him, I can renounce the world

Fandom: White Cat Legend (大理寺少聊游）

Relationship: Qiu Qingzhi/Li Bing, Qiu Qingzhi & Yi Zhi Hua

Summary:

“I wonder what happened to you, for you to become like this?” You. Qiu Qingzhi thinks. You.

In which Qiu Qingzhi would do anything to keep the one he loves safe, even if it means ruining himself.

[read it on ao3] | also why isn't QQZ/LB a tag on ao3...

“Li Bing’s funeral procession got attacked on its way out of the city,” his men hurriedly reports, and Qiu Qingzhi’s blood runs cold. He needs to make sure that Li Bing is okay, he needs to know who it is who dared to attack the one he loves, he needs vengeance, he needs—

He digs his nails into his palms to center himself, forcing his mind to focus instead of jumping to conclusions. He is now a General, he has dozens of men at his disposal– but that would only put Li Bing in danger, if he mobilised so many men for him– it would only turn the attention of the Yong’an Elders onto him.

A pair of wild green eyes flashes across his memory, those words thrown around so confidently, “my blood can extend your life, so that you’ll never die!”

Yi Zhi Hua can help, he desperately thinks. He does not know what that demon finds so interesting in him, does not know if he would even answer the call, but it is the only idea he can think of.

Qiu Qingzhi drags his palm across his blade, ignoring the sting as he waits for what feels like eternity in the few seconds it takes for the demon to arrive.

His blood sings with the need to destroy, to crush whoever dared to insult Mr Li’s name.

“No,” he snatches his hand back as Yi Zhi Hua reaches for it, “help me to find someone. Kill the people attacking him, revive him, if he’s dead.”

“Why would I do that?” the damned cat says, though his eyes sharpen with interest, Qiu Qingzhi notes. He would be, it is the first time he has reached out to the other, instead of waiting for the demon to approach him out of boredom.

“Help me, and I'll play your game. I'll help you to find what you are looking for, or catch you again, whatever it is you wanted.”

“Qiu Qingzhi, begging for help! I’ll remember this day!” Yi Zhi Hua sneers, “Alright, since you asked so nicely, who is it?”

—

Please be okay, Qiu Qingzhi begs, spurring his horse to go as fast as she could– he would spoil her rotten later in apology– he can only pin his hopes on a flighty demon now, hope that his bargain was alluring enough for him to uphold his end of the deal.

He has not felt so afraid before. Qiu Qingzhi, who has been on multiple battlefields, who had to learn how to survive on the streets, who had fought and captured a feral demon cat, has never felt such all-encompassing fear before.

Fear that he would arrive to see Li Bing already dead, killed alongside the rest of the procession, or Li Bing with his neck slit open by the damn cat. It was a damn near suffocating fear, choking him from the inside out.

(Never did he imagine that he would see a white cat).

Qiu Qingzhi feels like throwing up.

He had asked for Yi Zhi Hua to save Li Bing, had not questioned his methods in his desperation for Li Bing to just be alive.

“Oh? How interesting, that’s a new expression, I haven’t seen that one before!”

Distantly, his alarm bells are going off– warning him that he is revealing too much in front of this demon, that this would one day come back to bite him– but he finds his composure slipping away until he is grasping at nothing, too distraught at the sight of the unconscious cat in front of him.

What has he done to his friend?

He had been so desperate to cling onto the silver of light in his life that he essentially ruined Li Bing. The only person who ever saw him as anything other than a slave, the only person who has shown him unfaltering kindness, who provided him with a shelter over his head.

He hears the demon scurrying off, crowing in delight at the discoveries he has made tonight, and still Qiu Qingzhi can only stare at the vulnerable state of his friend, whose fur was as white as his hair. So white that he nearly blends in with the snow falling around them.

Hair that had turned white prematurely– all because Qiu Qingzhi had been too late, too weak, too slow to protect Mr Li.

But because he is General Qiu, commander of the Jinwu guards and currently the fixation of a wild demon cat, Qiu Qingzhi composes himself with a shaky breath. He would have preferred to sit here and wait until Li Bing woke up and explain himself to the other, but he had summons that could not be ignored, and men to command.

(He had already revealed too much by running off at first sight of the news).

Qiu Qingzhi allows himself one last glance at Li Bing, and turns to leave.

His stomach churns with guilt as he makes his way back. Guilt that he was leaving Li Bing all alone in that state, guilt that he was all alone in this world now, guilt at his selfish relief that Li Bing was still alive, despite it all.

The urge to turn back and scoop the white cat into his arms and bring him back with him was overpowering. But he was under heavy scrutiny from Yong’an, and there were many who coveted his position, others who would stop at nothing to bring him down. He could not allow that, not with the Li family in ruins and Li Bing so vulnerable. Qiu Qingzhi would get to the bottom of this– the Zixu war, Yi Zhi Hua’s origins, and the extermination of the Li family– he owed as much to Li Bing and his father.

(He needed more power, if he wanted to be able to protect Li Bing).

---

@randomingoftherandomness - thank you for introducing me to this show and this ship haha

@wuxia-vanlifer - I finished the show!!! :>

[countrymusiclover]

4 - Just Ariyne and Finnick

Part 5

Are You District or Capitol?

Pretty please leave your thoughts in the comments 🙏 😁 ❤️ Tag list ( send an ask in my ask box to be added ) @lemonluvgirl @virtualsweetsdreamer @emma-andrea1 @voiddylanobrosey @kmc1989

@agentxx92

I wasn’t sure what time it was or how long I had been down in the training yard but I was beginning to get the hang of using some weapons if I got thrown in the arena. Holding the dagger in my right hand I sucked in a breath launching the blade into the orange hologram that came running at me. The hologram broke apart when it landed in his chest right before I heard Finnick speak behind me. “You're getting pretty good with those knives.”

“Yeah it seems so.” I shrugged my shoulders eyeing the trident hanging on one of the weapon stands. “So I’ve been told you're pretty good with a trident. Care to show me?”

He sent me a smirk of the usual capital charm. “Are you afraid that I'm not as impressive as they say I am?”

“I never said anything like that.” I shook my head no.

He stared at me. “But you're thinking it, blossom.”

“How do you know that?” I snapped at him.

Finnick picked up the trident walking back over to me, carrying it in his right hand. “Because I'm good at getting information out of people.” His ocean green eyes scanning over my facial features.

“I'll believe it when I see it.” I sniped, biting the inside of my lip. Before I could react he spun me around into his chest with my back pressing into his front and the trident stick pushing up against my throat. I shutter out his name, my hands were holding onto his wrists thinking I could stop him somehow. “Finnick-”

He leans his head down to my ear whispering. “Come up to my floor when we're done here and I'll tell you some of the things I found out.”

“Really you found something out?” I knew I had a hopeful tone when I responded.

His hot breath ghosted over my neck as we stayed that way for a second until the elevator door opened a few feet away from us revealing my father standing there. “I haven't lied to you since we've met - we'll work on your response time there, blossom.” He pushed me forward, lowering the weapon away from my throat.

My hair got thrown in my eyes so I pushed it away, sparing him a glance. “Finnick, I - I'll see you later.” I felt like I was at a loss for words never expecting he would actually be a man of his word. Maybe he wasn't like the other Carrier tributes. Just like maybe my mother wasn't like who my father said she was.

3 years ago

Laying in my bed I silently stared at the ceiling not being able to fall asleep. I had gotten used to my father sometimes waking in the middle of the night screaming. He also always kept q knife hidden underneath his pillow. I heard him get up and walk from to the kitchen so I decided to check on him. “Dad - uh are you okay?”

“Ari! Oh um - yeah I’m - I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” He croaked through some tears, raising a drink glass to his lips.

I slowly walked up to him, gently touching his shoulder. “You don’t have to be tough on me, dad. Is it - about me?”

“I just had a nightmare about my games. How much I hate the capital for what they did to my family. How much I wish I didn’t despise who your mother is.” He gripped the glass in his hands and his jaw was clenched when he grumbled.

I paused before asking my next question knowing he didn’t like to talk about it. “Who exactly is my mother?”

“She’s a snob in the Capitol. Thankfully we only have to see each other once a year!” He grumbled the last part under his breath.

I moved in front of him, bending down on my knees trying to make him look me in the eye. “Dad, I know you're not a huge fan of whoever my mother is. But I want to know, do you think I'll find love in a world where these games exist?”

“Ariyne, I wasn’t expecting for you to come into my life. But now that you have I can't imagine you not here with me.” He lifted his gaze up to meet mine, he used his freehand to cradle the side of my face. “So in my experience with the Games and everything else this world throws at us. You should always expect the unexpected.”

That evening I had told my mother that I wouldn't be eating dinner with my father and the others like I usually had been. I didn't bother telling my father where I was going considering he would most likely figure it out anyhow. Taking the elevator up to the 4th floor, I walked off, finding a door that said Odair on the outside of it, so I knocked three times, assuming that was a good enough signal that I was there. The door peaked opened with Finnick popping his head out. “Hey blossom, come on in.”

“I think we should set a rule about that nickname you have going for me.” Was the first thing I said entering the apartment hearing him shut the door and lock it. I slowly turned around hearing him enter the living room. “It's not that I hate it. I just wish you would call me by my - oh wow I would've figured you always wore low cut clothing.”

He was wearing some black sweatpants and a light gray shirt that actually didn't show off his nice brad chest. “That’s not the real me. It's all just for the show of the Games.”

“Oh, so who is the real Finnick Odair?”

He sent me a genuine smile that didn't look like his cocky one he usually wore. “I'll tell you if you tell me more about you, Ariyne Abernathy.”

“Finnick.” I giggled feeling my face turning red at his true words.

He gestured to the empty coach going to sit down on the furniture and I joined him sitting near him on it. “So tell me something about yourself.”

“My life is pretty boring to be honest. I have been hiding for basically my whole life.”

He gave me a sad look. “I’m sorry.”

“I haven’t had any of the firsts. First love, first date-“

He cut me off. “First kiss.”

“Yeah.” I nodded silently, staring at the district four boy. His sea green eyes focused on my gaze slowly leaning forward beginning to close the gap that was between us.

I blinked my eyes a couple of times thinking about whether or not I should kiss him. I’d never done anything like that compared to him at this moment. Biting my lip I scooted forward closing the rest of the gap we had before we finally kissed the other. Finnick kissed me slowly while moving one hand to the side of my face deepening the kiss until I drew back with a nervous smile. “At least now you’ve had your first kiss now, Ariyne.”

“Thank you, um - what did you find out about Snow and me?” I mumbled, being scared for the answer he would give.

He sat back running his fingers through his blonde curls taking a deep breath clearly feeling the weight of the conversation we were about to have between each other. “He’s planning on trying to throw you into the arena.”

“Anything else?” I asked, feeling a nervousness in the pit of my stomach.

Finnick parted his lips. “He found out about who your parents really are. My informants don't know how but that is what I could gather from them.”

“What am I gonna do. I - I've never even been in the Games before and now it's all former Victoria going into it. I'm - I'm gonna die the second that cannon goes off.” I began heavily crying burying my face into my knees when I hugged them up close to my chest.

He slowly wrapped his arms around my body tugging me against his chest. “Sshh Ariyne. That isn’t going to happen to you. I'll make sure of it.” He whispered running his freehand through my messy blonde hair.

I sniffed, barely lifting my head from his chest. “How are you going to manage that?”

“You let me worry about that, Ariyne.” He brushed hair away from my eyes with a half smile, kissing my forehead that I found rather nice in this moment of fear. “For now let’s just simply be Ariyne and Finnick.”

Laying my head down against his chest he wrapped his arms around my body once more, trying to imagine that the Hunger Games didn’t exist. “I’m glad you’re helping me, Finnick.” We just remained that way for a while. With any luck my father would be happy that I was finding some alliance with him.

[kinglazrus]

Beep boop hello to you! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

I adore whoever made this ask game. Thank you for sending me one, Lexx! This was so hard to choose, so these aren't in any particular order.

The Moment It Breaks

Description: After months of lies and secrets, it finally happens. His identity is revealed in the worst of ways—in the middle of a ghost fight. Now everyone knows that Tucker Foley is the Tech Hunter

Reason: I made this AU for the Danny Phantom au zine, Reality Trip, and I have had so much fun playing with it. It started as a throwaway wondering "what if Vlad approached Tucker instead of Valerie?" and grew into something huge. I've always adored no one knows aus, and this one takes it a step further. I'll be posting the fic to Ao3 soon, and I've got big plans for the rest of this AU.

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Description: Valerie knows Danny Fenton, everybody does. Youngest of the family, son and heir, future owner of Fenton Works. Notable for all those reasons and infamous for none of them. Where Maddie and Jack are the local quirks, Danny is the tragedy. And, for the next week, he's the Red Huntress' newest client.

Reason: I adore writing Valerie's point of view. She's my favourite character, so it's a bit criminal that I don't have more fics focused on her. I've also used some different narrative techniques in this fic playing with perspective, which has been a lot of fun.

The Punishment Fits the Crime

Description: Ghosts are naturally drawn to death. Danny, however, finds himself drawn to those who have wrongfully died. He always said he would never hurt someone who doesn't deserve it. It's not his fault that he keeps finding people who do. Or: Danny is a vengeful spirit.

Reason: My darkest fic, tonally. I got the idea to turn Danny into a vengeful spirit and immediately decided to push it as far as I could. There's only a couple of chapters up right now, but the tags tell you all you need to know about the direction this fic is going.

The In-Laws

Description: Harriet and her son, Kwan, meet each other's boyfriends through a family dinner. Hopefully, Vlad Masters and Danny Fenton can get along for one meal.

Reason: Because it's fun! This is a very light-hearted, humorous fic, and I had a great time with it. I like to write all kinds of pairings, and this was a great way to explore two I hadn't yet: Vlad and Harriet, and Danny and Kwan. Bad News shippers come get your juice.

Blossoms On Her Tongue

Description: Years after Undergrowth’s attack, Sam’s ghost powers from that day are slowly returning. Sam is excited at first, both at the chance to grow closer with Danny, and the opportunity to use her own powers for good. But things aren’t as great as they seem. After all, plants don't mix well with the cold.

Reason: I can't actually say because that would be a spoiler! But there's a specific dynamic I wanted to explore for the trio and this fic was what came out of it. I've got three parts planned for this series, each one focused on a different member of the trio.

Honourable mentions that I almost picked for this:

The Survivalists (of course)

Prince Before King. Genius Before Fool.

Not Your Danny

Deep Wounds

Dead Man Walking

Until Death Do We Part

[inafieldofdaisies]

2 in 1 uquizzes

Uquiz #1: What does your OC heart look like?

Uquiz #2: What does your OC path lead to?

broken, missing pieces that once were there: your heart has been torn before, chipped and maybe even shattered. Some pieces will never be recovered, and you are shaped by the loss. But it can still be shaped into something tangible, something good, even with its flaws and imperfections. You don’t have to do all the work of rebuilding by yourself. Allow other hands to leave their fingerprints on the new heart you create from the remnants.

the messenger: a creature of flesh and bones but wrong, wires wrapped around limbs and a steady ticking accompanying each step. His home is in the forest, pale trees with dark eyes, and he clutters on, his bones creaking with every step. The clock keeps on ticking, every moment a blink in the eye of the universe as the years fly by. His steps continue forevermore, an ouroboros lumbering on and on, a mechanical being made from the dead. On and on he clatters, a void that can never be filled, with bloody feet and a chittering voice.

i'd say quite fitting, but the fact the second result is titled "the messenger" definitely sent me

a tangled ball of red strings: who are you without the company of others? You aren’t sure, but you know that you aren’t fond of whoever it is. You are an actor, a pretty face and a pleasant song. Many idolize you, or love you, but you can never be sure of how sincere it is. Your heart is buried under the letters they leave you, sealed with a kiss. It can’t be untangled from the red strings they’ve attached to you. You deserve to find something, someone, true and faithful to hold your heart in place. You don’t have to be everything to everyone.

the path: the memories left behind by others, each one taking their next step along side you. Softly rustling leaves in the wind, the full moon bathing the forest in a silvery light. A beaten path between towering trees, giant shadows slinking between them. Glowing eyes staring down at you, the animals' gazes piercing right through you. The fluttering of thousand of moths, each flap of their wings accompanied by whispers and the knowledge that somewhere someone's fate has taken a new path.

I'm screaming at the actor result for Mer. OMG. the path is also ironic considering her role chosen by Joseph

molten lava and charred flesh: your heart burned so fiercely that it burnt itself out, leaving horrible scars in its wake; scars inside your chest and on the hands of those who touched you, the hearts of anyone who got close enough to connect to yours. The person you are now is no longer recognizable, burnt up by your own anger and passion and love. The injuries can never be fully erased, but they can be soothed with time and trust and forgiveness.

the virus: Game Over. Try Again? Yes [ ] No [ ] I am tired [x] You are psydelic colors, no clear edges but instead just flowing into the ether, just floating somewhere in-between. You have played their games and lost, tried again and again and again but it could never be enough, no, you have been flawed from the start, always wrong wrong wrong. Aren't you tired yet? Hasn't it been enough, you have done your best but your form was never supposed to fit into the cutout they've created for you, each time you played their game you snipped parts away. And it still wasn't enough, would never be enough. Darling, don't you want to break them as they broke you? Darling dear, remember, they called you toxic and vicious, a virus they sought to eradicate. So stop playing the games you could never win and play your own, you are bright colors as a warning sign, sharp words spilling like toxic fumes from a sharp toothed mouth, you are a predator of this new age.

I am once again asking Cal to stop breaking my heart. Ooochie. The fire symbolism, the forgiveness.

Tagging @thesingularityseries @cassietrn @direwombat @strafethesesinners @madparadoxum @poisonedtruth @detectivelokis @shegetsburned @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @jacobsneed @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @adelaidedrubman @clicheantagonist @neverthesameneveranother @voidika @v0idbuggy @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @clicheantagonist and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

[neondiamond]

✨ Twenty Questions for Fic Writers ✨

Thank you @disgruntledkittenface for tagging me! I always enjoy this kind of tag games! 🩷

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

57

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

259,349 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

One Direction

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I’d Walk Through Fire For You (Just Let Me Adore You), Sounds like love to me, Find Me in the Kitchen, Sweet like candy, and On Thin Ice

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I do my best to answer all comments I receive, because they truly make my day every time I get one, and I want readers to know I appreciate them. ❤️

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

...

none? I seem to be incapable of writing anything but happy endings…

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Now this I'm good at lol. Happiest is hard to pick though... maybe Here You Come Again? I feel like the angst that comes in the middle makes the happy ending even sweeter with this one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

It's happened once or twice that I’ve gotten a mean comment on a fic, yeah, but not regularly. I've also gotten a few comments I would qualify as stupid specifically on my ace fics, though I think those are coming from a place of ignorance more than from a place of hatred (or at least that's my hope...)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do sometimes write smut, but not very often, because I find I have to be in a very specific mindset to do it that doesn't come often, and frankly because I don’t think I’m very good at it. But when I do write smut, I write whatever kind I feel will fit best into that fic.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've never actually written one!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! One of the Christmas fics I wrote last year was stolen and posted on AO3 for a different fandom. 🙃 The person had simply changed Harry and Louis’ names to different characters... Someone pointed it out to me in the comments and it got taken down.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! My Ace Omega Harry fic series was translated into Russian earlier this year.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Predictably, Larry. I love reading other pairings, but as far as writing goes, I think Larry will always remain my favourite.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I've been meaning to write a sequel to Chasing Feelings where Harry and Louis get to work together again, but I keep getting distracted by other ideas and at this point I'm not sure when or if it's actually going to happen lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I'm quite good at portraying feelings and emotions, even in few words.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Long fics feel kind of impossible to me, and i don’t think I’m the best at writing dialogue either.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've never done it myself, just because I don't think I've ever written a fic where a character spoke another language, but I don't mind it when reading. It can be fun to try to decipher it sometimes.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

One Direction

20. Favorite fic you've written?

If you ask me the same question tomorrow, I'll probably have a different answer because my favourites change all the time, but a recurring one has to One for the Books. I just love writing Christmas fics and this one feels extra cosy to me.

Tagging: @onlythebravest @crinkle-eyed-boo @sun-lt @homosociallyyours and whoever else feels like doing this!!

[andydrysdalerogers]

The ABC's of Nick Vaughn - "L"

Pairing: Reader x Nick Vaughn (Before We Go)

Summary: Children its time to learn your ABCs. And Nick Vaughn is here to teach you the lessons. 26 glimpses in the world of you and Nick Vaughn

Warnings: S-M-U-T!!!! (under 18 please leave the chat!) descriptions of sexual activity including some themes of BDSM, loss of virginity, fluffy bits, pet name etc...

The new upload will probably be Sundays and Thursdays. Have fun kittens! Also, the tag list is open!

A/N: This one is longer than usual because of context readers. Also, I have nothing against cheerleaders, jocks, homemakers etc. This one was based on personal experience.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: K - Kink

ABC Masterlist - Main Masterlist

L - Location

Heading into Boston, you hold Nick’s hand as he drives, tracing patterns into his skin.  He looks over and smiles, bring your hand up to his mouth to place a gentle kiss. “Have I told you today that you look beautiful?” 

“Not in the last hour, no.” You giggle as you look out the window. You loved visiting Boston; Nick’s parents were great and welcoming. But this weekend was a little bit different.  It was Nick’s 20th high school reunion, and he was a little bit anxious to attend.  And he wouldn’t tell you why.  

After arriving at the Vaughn’s family home and having lunch, you went up to Nick’s old bedroom to get ready.  You set your hair into soft waves, romantic makeup on your face.  As you applied the red lipstick Nick loved so much, you saw the man in the mirror, looking a little down. “Honey, you ok?” 

He seemed to snap out of it.  “Yeah, sorry,” he shook his head. “I’m just a little lost in my thoughts.”  

“Is everything ok? You seem nervous.” You went to sit next to him, taking his hand.  

“Just not sure what to expect tonight.”  He sighed loudly. “I haven’t spoken to a lot of these people since we graduated.  I wasn’t exactly popular in high school.”  He hung his head. “I was a nerd.”  

“Everyone thinks that about themselves.”  

“No really.  Had braces, acne, bad haircut, the works.  I played in the marching band, and I had a crush on a girl.” He looked away. “Stephanie Winters. And I asked her to homecoming.  She said yes and then, when I went to pick her up, she had ditched me for Danny Adams, the running back.”  

“Oh, baby...” 

“I was humiliated and I never got to have a school dance.  I didn’t play at the football games anymore. That field just had bad memories.” He laid back on the bed.  “I don’t know if I can face those people.”  

You laid back next to him. “I think you should walk in with your head held high, don’t let anyone tear you down and show them how Professor Vaughn handles it.”  

“You’re amazing, you know that.”  

“I know,” you reply with a wink.  

“You look gorgeous.  Let’s show you off to my old classmates.” He stood up and offered his hand. You took it, your engagement ring blinking in the soft light of the room.  

** 

As you entered the gymnasium, you took in the decorations. Navy blue and gold, the school colors, but whoever put them up made them tacky AF. Streamers and balloons glitter everywhere, it looks more for a tween than an adult party. “Gosh, this is... a lot,” you whispered to Nick.  

He laughed under his breath.  “It looks like something...” he stopped. “Stephanie.” You turned to see a blonde with blue eyes walk towards you. You tightened your grip on Nick’s hand as she approached but then you really saw her.  Heavily made up, a tight dress but you could clearly see it was not made for someone her age but rather someone twenty years younger.  She was trying too hard.  “Nicky!” She squealed. You huffed as she went to hug him.  

Nick tried to dodge the hug, but she came on full force.  “Hi Stephanie.”  

“Oh em gee! It has been so long. You look so...good,” she cooed as she looked him up and down, shamelessly checking him out.  Nick grew uncomfortable and took a step back, re-grasping your hand.  

“Thanks. Stephanie, I would like to introduce to you my fiancé, YN. Sweetheart, this is Stephanie Winter.”  

“Stephanie Adams,” she corrected. “Danny and I got married right after senior year. “ 

“Wow,” Nick replied.  You cleared your throat to stop laughing.  “Congratulations, I guess.”  

Stephanie looked you over and you could clearly see she was judging you. You didn’t shrink back, you stood proud next to Nick. “Well congratulations to you as well Nicky...”  

“Please, just Nick,” he interrupted. “Are you working on your dance career Stephanie? I remember that’s what you wanted to do in high school. “ 

“Oh, no,” she waved him off, “once I had the kids, I just stayed home with them.  Danny went to work at the real estate office.  What are you doing now?” 

“Oh, well I’m a professor at NYU and YN here just made partner at her law firm.” He looked over at you adoringly. “I’m so proud of her.  And with the wedding just a few weeks away, we are just living our best life.”  

“That’s great,” you can hear the tightness in her voice.  “Well, I have to get back, planning and decorating all of this has been so tough but it was really great to see you, Nick.”  She walked away and Nick let out a low whistle.  

“What is it baby?” 

“I fucking dodge a bullet with that one.”  You both let out loud laughs as you saw Stephanie walk over to a man who was balding slightly and had the beginnings of a beer gut.   

“Let me guess, Danny?” 

“Yep.” Nick shrugged. “I have no words.”  

Dotted around the room were photos of the class from their time at Cambridge High School.  You finally found one of Nick and you smiled.  He was as described, albeit a little more puppy fat on his frame.  However, he had a major glow-up in your honest opinion.  Nick was the hottest guy here.  As Nick returned with your glass of champagne, you curled into him.  “So, where would the most popular guy in the school take his date?” 

“Under the bleachers,” Nick replied. He looked at you and could see the look in your eyes. “Why?” 

“Because I want to erase all these bad memories from the football field,” you whispered in his ear.  

Nick swallowed and took your glass.  He set it down on the table and walked you out to the field.  He held your hand until you got to the field and then spun you around, pinning you to the chain link fence. He kissed you hard, hands in your hair until one drifted down to your thigh. He hiked your leg to his waist, allowing him to press his growing bulge right over your heat. “Nicky,” you moaned.  

“God, I love it when you say my name like that.  Only you baby, only you,” he said between rolls of his hips into you.  

You nipped his chin with kisses and down his neck.  “I thought we were supposed to be under the bleachers?” 

“Fuck that, I'll take you on the bleachers.” He swiftly took off his coat and laid it down before lowering you on top of it.  He spread your legs and found the scrap of fabric you called panties already wet from his kisses and touches. He pulled them down and pushed your skirt up more, exposing you to the cool air.  He quickly pushed his pants and boxers down, freeing his length and running the tip through your folds. “Fucking soaked baby. Such a good girl for me.”  He slowly pushed in, both of you moaning in relief.  

Nick started to fuck you, hard, taking out his emotions of seeing old friends and bitch cheerleaders on you.  You went with it, holding onto the back of the bleachers as he pounded into you.  He wished he could have seen your breast bouncing with each thrust but that would have to be later. He started to feel the tell-tale signs that you were close.  “C’mon baby, fuck, squeezing me so hard.  God, I love this pussy.” He changed the angle of your body and he hit that spot inside perfectly.  

“Nicky, fuck, gonna cum. So good, feel so good.”  

“Let go my sweetheart.  Cum for me.”  

The release was euphoric, sending you into another world as Nick followed suit and released ropes of hot cum inside you.  He slowed and laid on top of you for a moment.  

“The football field is amazing. So green,” he commented, making both of you laugh.  Nick took out a handkerchief and cleaned you gently before pulling your panties back on.  He redid his pants and then draped his jacket over your shoulders.  You walked back to the school where Stephanie was outside, smoking a cigarette.  She watched you approach, wrapped in each other.  

“And what were you two...” she trailed off as she could see your red lipstick all over Nick’s face and neck.  Your hair was a little less soft and more freshly fucked.  

“Oh, Nicky was just showing me the football field.  You know, reminiscing about his band days, and telling me about all the dreams he had about the bleachers,” you commented in a sugary sweet tone that was way more of a warming to her. You wrapped your body closer to Nick as you could get while not being naked.   

Nick chuckled at your subtle show of possessiveness.  “I think we are going to take off.  It was nice seeing you, Stephanie.  Good luck with everything.”  

Next

Taglist:

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @atoosa22 @tinkerbelle67

[midnightostara]

Sneak Peek - You were bigger than the whole sky.

Fandom: God Of War (Video Games)

Relationships: Kratos/Heimdall

Characters: Kratos, Atreus, Heimdall, Freya, Freyr, Mimir, Sindri, Brok, Thor, Thrud, Angrboda, Sif.

Tags: Mpreg, Miscarriage, stillbirth, grief, hurt/comfort.

Note: This is my first time writing a GOW fanfic that I am working on. This is where everyone survives and Ragnarök was averted. So I hope you all enjoy it.

And yes, I have Kratos and Heimdall married here :)

Also we need more of this pairing

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

From what he remembers of his duties of guarding the Bifrost and Asgard, the weather in Asgard was always pleasant. Gazing out from the wall into the lush greenery below, he brushed a strand of hair away from his face as the wind caressed his skin and took in the scenery. 

When he didn't watch over the bifrost and Asgard, he would normally would want to prove himself to Odin constantly, always going to him like a dog to its master. He wasn’t aware of how much of a monster his own father was until the cloud that hazed his mind dissipated to make him see the reality of whom his father was. 

How much pain and suffering he had wrought upon all the nine realms under his tyrannical rule. The god of foresight had helped him to cause pain and suffering, mostly done in Svartalfheim when he went to deal with the dwarves. But it was all in an eager that Odin would see him and give him praise. But never did. 

It took him being with Kratos and Loki to make him realize that his relationship with Odin was not a healthy one. 

After Odin was defeated, having his soul be in a marble by Loki, each of the realms now could start their healing process and rebuilt their lands. Which it was a steady process, but already some were healing carefully.

Movement made him come out of his thought. His heliotrope eyes gently gazed down his protruding belly. He gently rubbed his mound and felt movement from within again, which made him chuckle.  He was already 24 weeks pregnant with Kratos's child, after waiting in his marriage with Kratos and exploring it a bit more. Heimdall decided after some thought to ask Blóðughadda, his mother, to change some parts of his body to carry a baby. Which she obliged, but being very excited that she would be a grandmother and her sisters would be happy to hear about this as well.

This would be Kratos's third child, after having a daughter with Lysandra and a son with Faye. 

“Didn’t like that I was thinking about a sour memory, little one?” He asked, softly, which responded with movement again. “Guess so. You’ve been quite lively, haven’t you lately? Seemingly, you are like your half-brother.” 

Heimdall returned his gaze returned to the scenery, while having one hand against his stomach. Sensing someone approaching him, looking over his shoulder, he gave a slight scowl to see it was none other than Loki, who approached him. 

“So,” he began. “How’s the view again, Heimdall?” 

The god of foresight rolled his eyes. “Just as I remembered when doing my duty as guarding the bifrost and Asgard.” 

“Ah, so nothing new? No threats?” 

“No, no, not at all.” 

The half-breed walked towards the stone of the wall to lean over to look over at the view that the god of foresight was gazing out upon, he whistled. “I will never get over this view. It must’ve been amazing to look over this and not be tired of it.”

“Oh, it never got tiring. Just that you always see the same thing over and over.” Heimdall rolled his eye. He dropped his hand from his belly, walking over to the middle of the landing and sat down upon the stone that was in the middle. He groaned in relief after sitting down.

Sensing something touching his stomach, he whipped his hand around to whoever’s wrists it was going to touch him without his permission. Darting his eyes to whoever it was, and of course, it was the half-breed. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Touching without permission from me? It is so common with you now, isn’t it?” Heimdall scoffed. Before letting go of Atreus’s wrists, the half-breed was busy shaking his wrist from the sudden grasp of the god of foresight.

The half-breed scrunched his face up in displeasure. “Sorry, I just… Well, I just wanted to feel if, you know, my half-sibling is awake.” 

“They were moving a minute ago.” Heimdall informed. “They didn’t like when I was thinking of a sour memory that came to my mind.” He paused for a moment. “They’re lively, just like you.” 

[hanmasghost]

“The Sweethearts Together Again”

Please read my pinned post before requesting

Authors words:

I tried- I’m a lil’ all over the place so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you expected, also I wrote the first half while I was on the verge of passing out, sorry abt that^^;

Pronouns: He/Him

Tags: @reallyromealone

Warning(s): de*th, dissociation, not proof read

Shinichiro had never expected his life to me going well. At least that’s what he told his husband.

They had been highschool sweethearts.

They were practically inseparable, no force could pull them apart, not completely anyways.

{Reader}, Shinichiro’s husband, had full on moved his tattooing business down near where Shinichiro’s shop was.

Why? Because Shinichiro complained that no matter how fast his motorcycle was, he couldn’t ever get to {Reader}’s work fast enough to share their lunch break together.

Hell! When Shinichiro was still the leader of the Black Dragons they were called “The Sweethearts” why you ask? People had given them the nickname as whenever fights happened, or anyone tried to overthrow Shinchiro, {Reader} was always there protecting him telling others “to get to him, you have to get through me” and afterwards people would watch as Shinichiro coddled him and babied the male. Sometimes Shinichiro would cheer {Reader} on if he seemed to be losing spirit, and in an instant, it’s almost like the males spirit had never left, he became stronger.

They were each other’s strengths, and that much was obvious. Hence why “The Sweethearts” became a much feared name among gangs.

So when Shinichiro died?

{Reader} was heartbroken. Shattered.

He felt utterly useless.

The one time he wasn’t there, something tragic happened.

He was going to kill whoever took his other half away. That was until he found out it was one of his brother-in-law’s friends.

He couldn’t kill a kid.

So he remained heartbroken. Quitting his job, and staying home, only ever leaving to go take care of Mikey and Emma or to get groceries.

Though after a few years, watching as Mikey, his in-law, his brother, lose himself into the abyss, is when he finally snapped out of it.

He thought he was taking care of Mikey all these years, when really he was just a shell of a person whom Mikey was taking care of.

It hit him hard.

Emma was dead.

Mikey wasn’t himself.

He didn’t succeed at taking care of them.

He failed Shinichiro.

That’s when he decided to start doing so.

He’d start taking care of Mikey like he should of been all these years. Emma is gone, and he’ll live with that guilt, but hopefully she’s enjoying her time in the after life, if there’s an after life.

That’s exactly what he did.

He started getting Mikey to write in journals, talk to a specialist, made him his favorite foods, had Mikey rediscover his interests.

Everything was going great.

Mikey was more of a human being now, he talked to people, played video games, wrote. All kinds of things.

He also seemed to have a very well paying job, he had a nice fancy house, which he shared with {Reader}, as {Reader} was taking care of him, and tons of nice things most people didn’t have.

Everything was… perfect.

Just as it was before.

That was until {Reader} got sick.

——

It was hard for Mikey.

Being happy and spending time with his brother, his only family, and switching up to a cold blooded gang member, a murder, with zero self control.

And once his brother became ill? He couldn’t do it anymore. He had to tell him about Bonten. The one thing Mikey wanted to avoid for as long as he could.

He was afraid {Reader} would be upset, curse at him, shun the help Mikey offered. So when {Reader} just.. accepted.. just accepted that Mikey was in a gang, along with everything else, he was shocked, but happy nonetheless. It just made it easier to help his brother and make sure he was taken care of.

And that’s what happened.

Mikey got personal doctors, who made you take tests which he was not to be apart of, or told what they were about.

He thought he’d be able to secure your health and well being, that was until the doctors came and told him {Reader} had [REDACTED] which currently had no known cure.

Mikey panicked.

He couldn’t lose the last living family he had. He just couldn’t.

He hired, and threatened, many people who he thought would be able to help keep {Reader} alive and find a cure.

——

Bonten executives watched as their boss, who rarely showed emotion towards them and others, dote and almost cry from stress over this man. They asked him what they could do, and tried comforting him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t accept their help. He didn’t care he was possibly going insane, he would do anything to make sure his brother was okay.

It was going well, besides Mikey on the brink of losing his shit. {Reader} was stabilized, that’s all that mattered.

——

“Hey.. Mikey?” {Reader} called out to the male who was sitting in a chair next to his bed.

Looking up, Mikey acknowledged his brother with a soft “hm?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I spent most of our time together distanced and heartbroken due to Shin.. Shinichiro’s death.. and I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to make up those years of distance to you.” Reaching his hand up to his chest where he gripped the itchy clothing he wore.

“What are you talking about—“

“I’m afraid.. I won’t be able to make up for those years where I wasn’t really there.. I just wish… just maybe… I could… maybe, just maybe, have taken care of you kids better.. and honor Shinichiro.. but instead I failed him. I failed.. to take care of you guys.”

Mikey sat in shock, what the hell were you talking about? Not really being there? Failed Shinichiro?

“I’m supposed to be your family, and take care of you, but now.. you’re like me… dissociated with life, knowing you’re there but not feeling like you are.. feeling as if your body isn’t your own as you watch yourself do things, good and bad… I failed.. to take care of you, I’m sorry.”

He knew deep down this would happen, but why.. why did it have to be so soon? You didn’t even make it to 40.

Mikey only heard static as he stared into your cold, unblinking eyes.

And for the first time in years, Manjiro Sano, cried. Now having officially lost his only living family member.

——

{Reader} stopped dreaming after Shinichiro died. Both ambition and sleep wise.

So last night, when he dreamed about seeing Shinichiro, holding his hand, and waking up after a “see you soon” he knew. He knew he was gonna die soon.

And a few hours before midnight is when he felt it. He felt his soul start to leave his body.

So before it turned twelve, he decided to apologize to Mikey.

Apologize to him for not taking care of him as Shinichiro would have. Apologizing about how he wasn’t able to honor Shinichiro’s death and wishes.

He knew the 28 year old man would be confused. He didn’t necessarily have the time to explain to him, so, with what he knew would be his last breath as he felt his heart stop, he apologized one last time.

Body numb, his vision and thoughts blank.

Then he was met with the sweet and loving calls of his name.

Shinichiro.

He was finally… finally back with his missing piece. He was.. free.

[frogtanii]

“hi everyone,” you gave your webcam a half hearted wave, noting the flood of inquisitive comments at your demeanor.

ynismymommy: omg queen r u ok??????

emilia.95: Have you been sleeping?

atsumus-leftballsack: bestie imma need you to invest in some concealer

a giggle pried it’s way up your throat, despite your attempts to stop it as you read the comments. yes, you were fully aware that you looked like shit however, you just weren’t expecting the viewers of your stream to be so... observant.

“holy shit guys, i’m okay,” you attempted to placate your vicious audience by giving them a (forced) smile and a small chuckle. “let’s just play, okay?”

you loaded up your game of choice (call of duty — you had a lot of aggression to work off) while making idle chatter with your fanbase. they seemed to have dropped conversation about your heavy eye bags and low enthusiasm in favor of more lighthearted topics.

just as you were starting to get into it, a knock sounded at your door. at first, you were tempted to ignore it but after a few moments of silence, the knocking started up again, more incessantly. your comments started to go wild, wondering who exactly was banging on your door at like 11p.

bokutos.bahamamommamilkers: tell whoever is @ the door to fuck off

shartyba3_420: damn slam me yn like [redacted] is slamming on that door

Greg_72: Hey, you can go answer that! We’ll wait <3

you apologize quickly before removing your headphones and scurrying over to the door. swinging it wide open, you’re met with bokuto.

and what a sight he is.

once bright, golden eyes were now dull and void, accompanied by dark circles that rivaled your own while his usually sunny visage was dampened by this metaphorical dark cloud that was hanging above him.

in other words, he looked like shit.

the both of you must look like quite a pair — you in your ratty, oversized hoodie and red sweats and him in his white t shirt and flannel pajama pants. after giving him another glance over, you repressed the urge to pull him into your room and into a hug, instead choosing to wrap your arms around yourself tightly.

“um, hey bo,” you started, unable to keep your eyes on his face. “i’m really sorry but i’m streaming right now. maybe we can hang out later?”

bokuto shook his head no, and your heart began to sink. you were just so tired and you didn’t have the energy to entertain or comfort the man at the moment without letting another piece of yourself crumble but you knew you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

resigning yourself to your fate, you stepped to the side to let him into your room, making a mental note to shield him from your webcam while you brought him to lie on your bed.

to your complete and utter surprise, bokuto did not move, shaking his head no again before moving to grab something just out of your sight behind your doorway.

you were now thoroughly intrigued, shuffling closer to peek into the hallway, only to be stopped by a box being thrusted into your hands. you looked over the colorfully painted cardboard but it gave you no indication as to what was on the inside and glancing at kotarou gave you no help whatsoever.

“what’s this?” you voiced your confusion while weighing the box in your hands, the confusion only amplifying when you discover the box is suspiciously light. you’re shaken from your investigation when bokuto throws another object in your hands, this one significantly heavier.

looking up at him, you’re taken aback by the emotion swirling in his irises, his mouth finally parting to speak. “i’m so sorry,” kotarou’s voice, while gravelly from disuse, was sincere, a slight quiver being found underlying his words. “i- i know i never said it but i just want you to know that i-i care about you and that i am so sorry for ever hurting you and making you feel like you were less than. y-you’ve helped me become myself again a-and i can never thank you enough.”

a shuddering breath left his chest as he trained his eyes on the ceiling before looking back at you with watery eyes. “you don’t have to forgive me. i-i’d understand.” you opened your mouth to respond, to rebut, but you were cut off by his strong arms, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

you couldn’t keep yourself from melting into his hold, a small ounce of stress leaving your body at his words but the bulk of it remaining. he’s just apologizing because you’re the only girl who’s shown him an ounce of kindness, the voice in the back of your head whispered.

as bokuto pulled you in tighter, you stiffened, the voice getting louder and more constant. the man holding you didn’t miss the way you tensed and hesitantly removed himself from you, his hurt written plain all over his face.

kotarou gave you a weak smile and another gentle apology before turning and leaving for his room. you already felt guilt creeping up your spine for not holding him the way you thought you should but you quickly pushed the feeling down, knowing that you wouldn’t have gotten the rest you deserved if you’d done so.

letting out a deep sigh, you shut your door and moved back to continue your stream, not before gently setting down the 2 colorfully decorated boxes on the bed, a small smile creeping across your face at the sight of the gifts.

your stream ended pretty shortly after, your mind unable to focus on the game — it was getting borderline embarrassing how often you were dying to the point you were worried your sponsors would pull out of supporting you.

with a soft smile and goodbye, you collapsed on your bed, mindful not to crush the boxes. while you were extremely exhausted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without examining your gifts’ contents.

you decided to open the heavier box first which yielded bag after bag of your favorite chips, candies, and drinks. you knew your mouth was gaping unattractively but you couldn’t help it. this was... way too much.

at the bottom of the box was a small note, written in bokuto’s somehow endearing chicken scratch. it read, “hi yn!!!! this is for when you get hungry :) i know i didn’t let you eat any of my snacks for a long time so i thought it would be nice if i bought some for you!!!!! i hope i got these all right :( i asked atsumu for help!!!”

a choked chuckle escaped your lips and it only amplified as you continued to the end of the note. “p.s. don’t worry about not finishing it all!!! i can always help you ;) p.p.s. also you’re so pretty!!!! don’t not eat it because you don’t think so too <3”

wiping your eyes that had become suspiciously misty, you set down the slip of paper and reached for the second box.

you couldn’t keep the gasp from coming from you as the cardboard overflowed with tiny slips of paper. with shaky hands, you unfolded the first paper, the tears overflowing over your lashline before you could stop them.

you are loved :) - akaashi

“fuck,” you whispered, swiping at your face before clumsily reaching for another, and then another, each note making you cry harder than the last.

you are beautiful!!!!! never change!! - bokuto!!!

you’re really cool - kenma

you are so kind and i owe you the world - sugawara :)

you’re sympathetic, observant, and intelligent. - sakusa.

you are patient (even when we don’t deserve it) - kuroo

yer my angel <3 - tsum tsum

there were a ton more but you promised yourself you’d read them all later, your emotions getting the better of you. you’d rather not wake up with puffy, swollen eyes and a headache so you decided it would be best to close the box and finish it all later.

laying back on your bed, you expelled a deep breath of air, not realizing just how tense you were. you’d been living on edge with the guys for at least a month now and it was really starting to wear on you.

without being able to fully trust them, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you crumbled under the pressure.

you glanced at your phone before sighing again (it really was that kind of day, wasn’t it). maybe it was about time to give dr yamada a long awaited call.

℗ poker face

you are loved :)

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ooweee first single apology down, 4 more to go!!! also the box of papers came from everyone (obv) but they still gotta give their individual apologies hehe which shall come in the future <33 sorry this took so long KSJD i hope u enjoy!!! don’t forget to feed me <333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[padme-parker]

Mizpah // the darkling x f!reader // ch 6

summary: given some time alone to think, the pieces begin to fall into place. you go to confront the darkling be he avoids you at any given cost, until one night you go into the one room you were never granted permission to enter.

warnings: cursing, talks about violence/torture and death, alcoholism

A/N: the truth finally comes out. This is all over the place bc I was trying to rush getting it out. 5.9k+ words and 12 pages later, here we are. not proofread, will comeback later to edit.

ANA KUYA’S voice echoed in the back of your mind as you laid on your cot, calling out for Mal and Alina as they ran away from her. It was the day Grisha came to the orphanage to find out if one of their own had been whisked away into a place like this. You examined the walls, cracks running up and down them. The windows barely opened, and when they did, they let out horrible screeches. Water leaked from the bathrooms, the annoying drip a constant on your mind.

Maybe you should’ve gotten up from your bed and got tested by a Grisha. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to stay in such a run down orphanage. The Duke was rarely here, so no one really cared about his orphanage no matter how infamous he was. But being Grisha meant leaving Mal and Alina behind, something you couldn’t do because they had become your only family. Besides, Grisha don’t get sick, therefore you weren’t a Grisha.

You could never be a Grisha.

-

AS you phased into consciousness, you could hear someone muttering something in the background. Your hands were so cold, you reached out for something- anything that could give you warmth. You tried to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, nothing seemed to work. The person rushed to your side, clutching both of your hands in one as the other stroked your cheek.

“Go back to sleep.” He said, brushing your hair back. Closing your eyes, he assumed you had fallen asleep already. He resumed his mumbling, the words slowly becoming coherent as fell back asleep.

“It’s...too...soon..”

-

THE painful pounding of your heart had subsided as the Grisha left. Mal walked into the room followed by Alina, who was sporting a new wound on her palm that Ana Kuya had scolded her for.

“Come on, get up!” Mal urged, knowing from the look on your face that the pain had already left you.

“Where are we going?” You said eagerly, scooting to the front edge of your bed to lace up your boots.

“To the meadow.” That was all you needed to hear before running out the bedroom door. Mal and Alina’s footsteps padding behind. The three of you started a mildly competitive game of tag, the other two making sure you didn’t exert yourself.

In that moment, you were who you were supposed to be. Three children lying on the field, making stupid promises to each other.

“We can’t hide forever, but we can run.”

-

THIS time when you find yourself in a field, there’s a man laying next to you. It was the same man from your dream, shoulder length hair and clean shaven face.

“Aleksander?” He lets out a hm, awaiting your question. “Where am I?”

“What do you mean, my darling?” Aleksander- General Kirigan- or whoever the hell he was turned to look at you, laying one of his arms upon your stomach. His hand keeping a firm grip on your waist. From your peripheral view you could see him studying you.

He started with your eyes, taking in their color and your long lashes. He moved from the curve of your nose until he got to your soft, plump lips. You stared at the sky, afraid of what you would see, who you would recognize if you turned to face him.

“We’re at our meadow.”

-

WHEN you finally regain consciousness, you find yourself alone in a nearly dark room. Only one lantern had been lit up. It was just before dawn, you could see the sun beginning to peek out. Someone had changed you into a nightgown, you didn’t know who it was. Perhaps it was Alina or maybe the Darkling, maybe neither. Either way, you were thankful they decided to change you out of the robe you had fainted in.

With great struggle, you propped yourself up, your elbows taking the brunt of your weight. You crawled to the foot of your bed to put on your night slippers. The rug under your bed only went so far before it hit the cold floor. You slowly made your way to the desk, sitting yourself in front of the mirror.

The magic Genya had performed on you days ago had worn out by now. How long were you out for? The dark circles under your eyes had returned, seemingly worse. Your skin, although already dull, became more dull and pale. Whatever shine you originally had was gone. Your eyes look sunken in. While your hair was frail and also lost the shine that Genya gave it.

“Saints..” You whispered to yourself as you raked a hand through your hair. You were basically a dead person walking. You considered fetching a servant to bring you Genya, but decided against it. Throwing on a robe, you silently made your way to the war room, hoping to find the Darkling there. When you entered it remained empty, along with the bed he usually slept in. You walked the halls looking for one of his oprichniki, yet they weren’t around either.

There was no use in barging into his bedroom when it seemed like he was gone. Plus you didn’t want to invade his privacy knowing that he could have you killed for going into his room without permission if someone had seen you. You spotted one of the palace guards, walking up to him as you placed your hands into the pockets of your robe.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where the General is?” You asked, staring into the guards eyes.

“He left a week ago, accompanied by his personal guards.” Was all he said, not disclosing why he had left. A week? Had you really been unconscious for a week? This usually never happened to you, not like this.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“In a couple of days.” He said, not giving you an exact day. You quickly thanked him before making your way back to your room to change for the day. The dull ache of your heart was finally leaving, allowing for you to feel more like yourself. You were able to spot the sun in the sky as you finished changing. You thought about basking in its light when your stomach growled loudly.

I suppose I should eat, you thought. It’d been nearly a week since you were able to feed yourself, your last meal being breakfast. You could remember someone feeding you periodically throughout the week, now knowing the Darkling had left, it was most likely Alina. You rang for a servant, asking to be brought breakfast when she arrived. Surveying the room, you decided that the Darkling wouldn’t mind if you did a little retouching.

You moved the table towards the window, wanting to eat in the sunlight without having the harsh winter winds freeze you. Opening the curtain allowed for more sunlight to stream through, a grunt of triumph leaving your lips as you looked at your new setup.

The squeaky wheel of the servant’s cart alerted you of her presence, rushing to open the door before she could knock. You took the tray from her hands, closing the door with your foot as you skipped towards the table, eager to get some food in your system.

The food they had given you was practically the same, sweet pea porridge, a tall glass of water, and a bowl of grapes. It wasn’t your favorite, but you ate it anyway. Savouring the familiar crunch and sweetness of the grapes. Sitting in the sun had left you feeling giddy and warm, excited for summer when you would be able to go out whenever you could and feel the sun on your skin.

It was the same warmth you felt whenever the Darkling touched you, even when you saw him in your dreams, there had always been a lingering sense of familiarness-- and affection. You saw the look in his eyes just seconds before you passed out, the shock as you said his name, the concern visible in his eyebrows. Him whispering, stay with me, please. It was all foreign to you. In fact, his behaviour was strange to you.

You’ve always heard of the Darkling being cold, menacing, someone you had to fear. There were stories of him ruthlessly slaughtering the Drüskelle, using the Cut to separate multiple heads from bodies in a matter of seconds. Yet he welcomed you into his home without a second thought. He fed you, gave you clothing and a place to sleep, even gave you a tour of the Little Palace himself. You were sure he had never given someone the treatment that he had given you, so what made you so different? What made you so special to him?

You didn’t miss the look he gave you when you first entered the war room, recognition and longing bright in his eyes. He tried to hide the emotion, but you were able to catch it before he returned to his dark and empty gaze. It would explain the memories, but only fueled your confusion and curiosity more. Had you shared a past life with him? If so, why were you back? How were you back? Getting lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the person knocking until they opened the door and announced themselves.

The familiar red hue of his kefta brought you comfort. You were too trusting lately, you’d only met Fedyor a week ago. Just the sight of his kefta had calmed something down in you. This palace was changing you, bringing out something from within you that never existed. Being this trusting on the fields would get you killed.

“Good morning, Fedyor. What brings you here?” You greeted him. This time you already had your boots laced up, the tray in your hands ready to be disposed of on the table by the door. “Going to escort me to combat training?”

“Actually, the General forbade you from stepping foot on training grounds again.” You let out a loud gasp as you whipped towards him. Thinking there was something wrong, Fedyor stepped forward, reaching his arms out to steady you just in case anything happened. In your anger, you slapped his hands away.

“Oh just you wait until he gets back,” You seethed, “Who does he think he is? Taking away my combat training privileges?”

“He’s the General, he can do that.” Fedyor responded, a small smile on his face.

“So what am I supposed to do then?”

“Well, you could still go to the library.” No, you didn’t want to risk running into the Apparat again. “Watch the Grisha train.” He offered a meek smile. “Walk the grounds.” Perhaps you could go on a horse ride later, but right now there was one thing on your mind.

“Is Alina training right now?” The heartrender gave you a nod, “I guess we’ll be going to her room then. She has something I want to borrow.” With the flick of your hand, the two of you were on your way.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and if you don’t want to answer then that’s okay.” Fedyor squints his eyes at you, before motioning to continue. “Has the Darkling ever taken up any lovers?” The question makes Fedyor stop in his tracks, a baffled look on his features.

“Well..I..” He struggled with his words, not knowing if he wanted to tell you. What would the General do to him if he told you? It was common knowledge that General Kirigan had been alive for a couple centuries now, he thought everyone knew of his endeavours. “The General has been around for many years, so naturally he has...had sex before.” The mention of it made Fedyor blush. “But he’s never settled down with someone. The closest I ever saw was with Alina.” This didn’t surprise you, Alina herself had told you about what had almost happened between the two.

“In the tent, when he tested her to see if she was Grisha, I saw something in his eyes. It was admiration, but there was also a defeated look in his eyes. As if he had given up on something because he found Alina. Reasonably, it could’ve been relief, since we had finally found the sun summoner.” Fedyor pauses, thinking wisely about the next words he spoke. “Alina and the General were growing close. Everyone saw the look they gave each other the night of the fete. But any public traces of their affection for each other had disappeared that night. The two are only seen interacting when he visits her for a gradual check-in.”

“And he’s never spoken of any other lovers?”

“Not consciously, no. On the very rare chance where we ride in the same carriage, sometimes when he falls asleep he’ll whisper about a woman. Moya dorogaya, he’d call her. That’s all I know.”

Moya dorogaya, my darling. It was the same name the Darkling had called you in your dream.

“May I ask you a question?” He inquired, you nodded your head, allowing him to proceed. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

A smile so bright that could light up the room came to your face, “My friends down near the south Ravka border. A pair of siblings that taught me to fight before they defected from the First Army.” You confessed. “One of them also introduced me to my love of epic poetry.”

When Alina’s door came to view, you didn’t bother knocking as she had already left. After fetching what you needed, you quickly exited her room.

“I haven’t seen them since they left.” You rubbed the birthmark at your throat. Besides Mal and Alina, the siblings were also the closest thing you had to family. They considered you as their sister, even begging that you left with them. But you told them your place was here in Ravka, with Mal and Alina.

“I’m sure you’ll see them soon. Once Alina and the General get rid of the fold, we will have access to our docks again.” He said, trying to comfort you.

“I hope so.” The rest of the walk was filled with comfortable silence as you fiddled with the edges of the red book. As you neared your door, Fedyor stopped, telling you he would be just outside if you needed anything. Without wasting another second, you ran to the chair in front of the window.

The Istorii Sankt’ya glistened in the sunlight. Something about it had been calling out to you, urging you to read it and find out more. You flipped through all of the pages of the saints until you found the one that had been calling out to you.

Sankt Ilya in chains. Ilya Morozova. Morozova’s herd.

“One day. When the war is over and the shadow fold is gone, you will bear my name. You will become Mrs. Morozova. I swear it.”

The voice of the Darkling rang clear in your head. The memory made your heart come to a stop as you struggled to find a possible explanation for his words. The only conclusion you could inevitably come to was that you were the sole lover that Fedyor had been talking about.

As the sun began to set, you looked at the drawing once more. The stag, sea whip, and firebird all depicted. You called out for Fedyor, asking him to come into your room.

“Can you bring me dinner for two?” You politely asked.

“Sure, were you planning on eating it yourself or shall I fetch someone while I’m at it?”

“No. You and I are going to have a nice, long talk while we eat dinner.” His face paled as the words left your mouth.

“Oh...okay.” Was all he said before he scurried off to get the food. You tucked the Istorii Sankt’ya under a pile of paper in your desk to hide it. While you waited for Fedyor to return, you lit up some candles and lanterns now that the sun was going down. It was no fun eating in the dark.

Well, sometimes it was. You thought back to the orphanage. Night where you, Alina and Mal would sneak out of bed to have a piece of bread. The bread was never enough, but the excitement had always spurred the three of you on enough to make it a nightly routine until Ana Kuya eventually caught on.

When Fedyor returned, he rolled the cart over to where you had been seated. He placed a golden tray in front of you and another for himself right across from you. He also brought a big pitcher of Kvas for you to share.

Lifting the cover from your plate, you found yourself staring at some sort of meat pie with a side of root vegetable soup. Fedyor had the same meal but had pickled herrings instead of soup.

“Ugh, I don’t know how you eat that stuff.” You said with disgust. “I’m glad you guys don’t force me to eat that.” Although it was common peasant food, it never appealed to you. It was something you’d always hated.

“The kitchen staff have a strict list of foods you like and dislike.” That made your head snap up to meet his, who made the list? You had a scheming suspicion that it wasn’t Alina, leaving you with one suspect.

“Tell me, Fedyor, do you know what the General plans on using Morozova’s Stag for?” You inquired, feigning curiosity. You saw his hesitation, clearly uncertain if he could trust you. “I was, after all, one of the last trackers to spot it.” You reminded

“The stag is rumored to be an amplifier created by Morozova himself. Whoever wears it would hold the greatest power known to mankind. One that could rival the General’s.” He said, taking a bite of his meal before continuing, “He plans on giving it to Alina in order to get rid of the shadow fold. She’s strong, but not strong enough to get rid of it on her own.”

“What about you, do you believe they will be able to banish the fold together?” There had been a swirl of doubt pooling in you. The shadow fold was the one thing that had kept Grisha safe from the rest of the world. With the permafrost in the North and the mountains in the South, Ravka had practically been perfectly disconnected. Yet the Drüskelle and Shu still managed to slaughter Ravkans and Grisha alike.

“Yes, I do. It’s something very important to the General. That the sun summoner reversed what his ancestor, the Black Heretic, had created.” He explained.

“Right, we’ll then what happens after? It’s been so long since West Ravka has been able to connect to East Ravka. Who’s to say that they don’t want to create a monarchy of their own?” Fedyor paused at your words, he hadn’t thought much about what the West Ravkans wanted. He only knew how much his people longed to be free of the shadow fold.

“One step at a time.” He ensured, not sure if he believed the words he just said. He didn’t know what would happen if West Ravka decided to break off and become their own sovereign state. Whatever trade and weapons they had obtained came through the trading ports of the docks in West Ravka. Without it they’d have nothing. They would be nothing.

You finished the rest of your meal, occasionally talking about your time being stationed in the South while he talked about his Grisha adventures. When it came to an end, you helped him clean up and wished him a good night as he rolled the cart away. The pitcher of Kvas laid untouched, your fingers twitched at the thought of having a drink. You stared at it as Fedyor rolled it away, your throat begging for something to drink. Instead of giving into your urges, you chug whatever leftover water you had laying around.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help the strong feeling of loneliness overcome you. You tried to push those feelings away when you jumped into bed, not wanting to have a miserable dream.

-

WHEN you wake, you find yourself in the deadly permafrost of the Fjerda-Ravka border in nothing more than your lace nightgown. The snow under your feet melted as you walked around, searching for another sign of human life. You didn’t feel the familiar nip of the cold at your fingertips or toes. It was that same warmth you felt with the Darkling.

You caught sight of your own breath as you whipped your head around, the snow catching in your hair. As you stumbled into a tree, you felt the recognizable carving, stating that you were now in Fjerdan territory. Your feet had walked on their own accord, not knowing where you were going until you stumbled into a clearing. The same clearing where Dubrov and Mikhael had died, slaughtered brutally by the Fjerdans. The clearing where you had killed two of their own without a second thought.

The clearing where you had finally found the stag.

The very same stag that had now stood in front of you.

You inched closer to it with careful and calculated steps. It didn’t back away as you approached. It showed no signs of aggression as you laid one of your hands upon its antlers, your other going to stoke its fur.

It was giving you that same look it gave you when you first encountered it with Mal.

Mercy. Respect. Most of all, understanding.

-

IT had been two days since you dreamt of the stag. You hadn’t dreamt of it since then, in fact, you hadn’t been dreaming of much since you saw the stag in your dreams. You thought about bringing it up to Alina during breakfast, but decided against it, the conversation somehow drifting towards the General.

“I was giving him a report of my progress last night-”

“Last night?” You interrupted, “As in a couple of hours ago?” She nods, confused by your behavior. “When did he get back?”

“The night you woke up.” She replied, as if you had been informed already. No one told you he had returned, you hadn’t even seen him once. Fedyor didn’t even tell you of his return during dinner. With a huff, you got out your chair, moving towards the door before asking Alina one last question.

“When did you mention me to the General?” She gives you another confused look, not knowing what you were talking about. That was the only answer you needed as you made your way to the war room.

He knew you. Even before he discovered Alina and took her to the Little Palace, he knew you first. Your thoughts ran around rampant and unprovoked, trying to come up with a viable explanation as you stomped towards his hall. Before you could even reach the doors of the war room, you were stopped by his oprichniki.

“The General wishes to be alone right now.” She said, hold up a hand to stop you.

“Tell him that I want to speak with him.” You replied, she looked you up and down. You wore no kefta or guards uniform. You were merely just a First Army soldier in her eyes.

“I doubt he would want to talk to someone like you.” Great, you were dealing with a Grisha Oprichniki with a horrible superiority complex. With a scoff, you turned away and walked to your room. Holding back every urge in your body to punch her.

-

WHEN night came, you found yourself struggling to get some sleep. After your encounter with that rude oprichniki, you tried your best to at least get a glimpse of the Darkling. You tried walking in the gardens in hopes to see him, no luck. You walked past the singular window of the war room, only to find the view obscured by the curtains. You paced the halls as subtly as you could, waiting for him to exit the war room. But he didn’t leave. Not once, so you just gave up and decided to try again the next day.

The black silk of your slip on did little to soothe the irritation you felt. In fact, it seemed to irritate you more as it slipped around even at your smallest movements. With a sigh, you got up from the bed and walked towards the dresser with the intention of changing into something that would provide better comfort.

You ran your hands through all the different laces and fabrics of the nightgowns until it landed on the gold kefta. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. You took it off it’s hanger, before walking towards the mirror. You examined it closely. The fabric itself had shimmers of gold, the black thread similar to any other kefta. As you surveyed the back of it, you noticed the handiwork of a fabrikator. Someone had tried to mend the rips of the kefta, but they were still visible up close.

The kefta had fit like a glove when you put it on. It gave you a sense of belonging. That maybe as an orphan you had finally found a home. You ogled at yourself in the mirror, the golden fabric had practically made you glow. You placed your hands into the pockets, surprised to feel something in one of them.

Grasping the object, you pulled it out. It was a letter. Covered in blood, dirtied and ripped at the corners, but still a letter nonetheless. You contemplated reading it, making the motion to put it back into the pocket before a thought crossed your mind. It wasn’t like anyone was going to find out.

You opened the letter and began to read it:

Dear Aleksander,

My darling, I don’t know why the universe has continued to bring us together. But I am thankful that they’ve given us a chance to be together once more. I have loved you for all of my lifetimes, and nothing could change that.

At least, that’s what I thought. But you’re no longer the Aleksander I once knew. Something dark has taken over you, your lust for power consuming you. I don’t know who you are anymore.

That’s why I’m doing what’s necessary, you’ve been in power for too long. It’s time for you to stop. It’s time for Ravka to be whole once more.

I’m sorry. I hope with whatever love you have left in your heart for me, that you could forgive me.

Eternally yours,

Y/N

You froze as you saw your name signed at the bottom of the letter. Lifetimes? As in more than one? This could wait no longer. Shoving the letter into your pocket, you threw open your door. The halls were empty, his oprichniki were either on a break or a shift change. Either way, you didn’t care.

You barged into the war room, expecting him to be hunched over a pile of maps, but he wasn’t. The next place you looked was his sleeping quarters that had connected to the war room. This bed was empty too, the sheets still cold. You knew of one last place he could be, and didn’t care about the risks.

You walked towards his door, each step filled with the burning curiosity you felt. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you didn’t expect it to turn. You would’ve assumed he kept the door to this bedroom always locked. But then again you were the only person who would dare enter his room without permission. After entering his room, you shut the door. Not wanting to raise suspicion to anyone who might’ve walked the halls perchance.

You paid no mind to the layout and decorations of his room as you fervently searched for him, only to come up empty handed again. Where could he possibly be? Perhaps he went for a midnight stroll. Or possibly he left the Little Palace again. But before deciding on going back to your room, you were adamant on searching the entire ground for him.

As you made your way back towards the door, your eyes briefly flashed to the portrait above it. You were frozen in your tracks as you did a double take. There in the painting was you, depicted in the gold kefta you had put on mere minutes ago. Behind you was the General, who had one hand clasped around your waist, the other resting on your shoulder. The two of you smiling brightly, it had practically been one of the only other times you’d seen him smile.

The letter in your pocket felt like it weighed a ton, your mouth going dry. In your panicked state of mind, you didn’t notice the shadows jumping up and down the walls.

“My darling.” You never heard him creeping up on you until he started talking into your ear, his whisper making you involuntarily shiver. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him.

Turning around, you didn’t expect to find his hair dripping wet, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. A blush formed on your cheeks as you tried to look at anything but him.

“Don’t call me that.” You spat out, he reached one of his hands out to touch the kefta you had put on. His touch lingered from the black stitching to the collar of the Grisha jacket, his fingers ghosting over your neck. “I’m going to ask you one more time, have we met before?”

The General saw no use in keeping the secret from you any longer; you had worn the kefta he’d made for you centuries ago, most likely read the letter in its pocket, and now you had just seen the portrait he’d hung up of the two of you. It was evidently clear that you knew something was going on.

“What do you remember?” He deflected, not answering your question.

Flashes came to your mind, ones you had dreamt, others were new.

“I remember...my death. The night those soldiers shoved a knife in me.” You confessed. You also saw other things. Horseback riding in the woods. Long nights in bed spent talking about the future. Him training you, teaching you how to wield a sword. The birthmark at your ribcage, the one on your neck, and the long ones on your back. They had all been scars. Marking all the deaths from your previous lives.

Three scars, three separate lifetimes with him. You reached up to touch the scar on your neck, “They..I-”

“This one, the Fjerdans gave you this one. We were hunting for the stag when we had gotten ambushed. They killed you for the sole purpose to see me in pain. I begged them to take me too, but they found too much joy in my grief. The Drüskelle held me on the ground, my hands spread apart, as I watched you bleed out.” You can see the tears form in his eyes as he recalls the events of that night. He walks around you, tracing the rips of the kefta. The rips had consequently been placed exactly where the scars on your back were. You could tell by the familiar pattern he traced, a once soothing action that now caused you great anguish. “The Fjerdans also gave you these ones. They tortured you for days on end. When I finally found you, it was too late. There was no healer that had the power to help you. All I could do was hold you as a heartrender calmed you, minimizing your pain.”

“I can’t remember that, why can’t I remember that?” You panicked, to which the Darkling turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs rubbed your face in a reassuring manner.

“It’s not often that you fully remember what happens to you. It’s your brain's way of protecting you so you don’t get overwhelmed.” Well you certainly felt overwhelmed now. It was all too much to take in at once.

“The shadow fold..” You hesitated, removing yourself from his grasp. “Was that because of me?”

“Yes,” he confessed, “I created it after you first died. A way to protect all Grisha. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. But it was one less threat we had to worry about.”

“I don’t understand. Why me? Why is it always me? Why do I always come back to you?”

“There’s a reason why the universe has continued to bring us back together, my darling. My other half. My life.” He walks up to you, grasping your face in his hands. His touch was different this time, it was cold yet welcoming. It felt familiar. The shadows engulfed the room as you felt a power rush over you. His eyes darted towards your lips, hesitating before leaning in. You close your eyes as you feel that familiar warmth consume you. His kiss is soft, gentle, yet you could tell he was holding back from ravaging you.

He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You kept your eyes closed, lost in the memories.

“Open your eyes.” He whispered. When you had closed them, the whole room had been taken by his shadows, leaving the two of you in darkness. But as he stood in front of you, his hands on your cheeks, the whole room had been illuminated. “My sun summoner, I have loved you all of my life. For all of your lifetimes.”

“Maybe one too many.” What else was there to say? You always knew, somewhere deep down inside of you, that there was something special different about you. You didn’t know it until now, until you were reunited with your other half. “But I thought Grisha couldn’t get sick.”

The smile falls from his face, “I believe..that this could possibly be our last lifetime together.” He disclosed. “Neither heartrender nor healer could explain what was happening to you. I think it might be the consequence of avoiding eternal death for so long.” He joked, his eyes meeting yours.

“I thought your last life had been our final one together. I waited hundreds of years for your return. When I had caught wind of a sun summoner being found, I thought it was you. When it wasn’t I felt as if my heart had shattered all over again. That you would never return to me again.” The Darkling squinted as the light around you grew brighter. His touch was making you unstable.

“But Alina-”

“Can’t know. No one can. I can’t risk your life again. Not anymore.” He replied, “Especially when this could be our last time together.”

You struggled to find a name to call him, the General felt too formal, and to you it seemed too early to call him by his given name.

“Aleksander, my darling. Call me by my name.” He said, withdrawing his hand from you and letting the shadows shrink back to the ground.

All your life, you had subconsciously fought the Grisha within you. You had always been Grisha. Using the powers you had been born with had given you back your strength, albeit not all of it. You enjoyed- reveled the rush it gave you.

“Aleksander,” His name left your lips in a hushed whisper, “..what if I want the stag for myself?”

-

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