#and shadow. shadow doesn't even know she's there

[thedemoninme141]

It doesn't matter. (anon asks)

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader.

Theme: Angst. Warnings: Discussions of suicide, depression.

Wordcount: 3.5k.

Wednesday sat on the railing of her balcony, her legs hanging over the edge, boots scraping against the cold stone.

Enid was sleeping softly in her side of the dorm. Peaceful. Oblivious. Even Thing had curled up on his little makeshift bed, unmoving, trusting that she would do nothing drastic. They thought they understood her.

They thought she was above weakness, above fragility.

Fools.

She had studied death. Pored over it. Dissected its meanings, its finality, its inevitability. She had wielded it in her hands like a sharpened blade, used it as a threat, a weapon, a fascination. But now, she wondered: was a fall from this height truly lethal? Would her bones shatter on impact? Or would she suffer, twitching on the cold stone until the void finally claimed her?

The world below seemed so far away, yet so close. A single misstep, a slight shift in weight, and she would no longer be perched between life and death, she would simply fall.

She had read about people who had jumped. Some regretted it before they hit the ground. Some had died on impact, their bodies broken beyond recognition. Some had lived, haunted by the knowledge that they had failed at escaping.

Would she regret it?

A foolish question. She didn’t believe in regret. She believed in action.

It didn’t matter.

It really didn’t matter.

She sat in the quad, her fingers curled over the spine of a book she had long since stopped reading. Her dark eyes were fixed on a single point across the courtyard.

You. It had been a year since she talked to you, that day.

She was watching you again.

Why?

She didn’t know.

She wasn’t even aware of when it started.

You were reading. Or, at least, you had been.

Now, your book was gone, ripped from your hands by a sneering group of students who thought themselves superior. She had seen this before. Watched from a distance. The same group. The same scene, playing out like a wretched cycle. A hand shoved at your shoulder, another voice laughed in your face. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your fingers curling into fists, but you did not fight back.

You never did.

You had been like this for a while now, silent, withdrawn, smaller. You never stood close to her anymore, hadn't been for the past year since that day. You never hovered near her anymore.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen this.

She had been seeing you, as you closed yourself from.. everything.

Wednesday could end it.

It would be easy. A single glare, a few well-placed words, and they would scatter like cockroaches under a harsh light. She could terrify them, send them running, make them regret every second they had spent trying to break you down.

But how could she?

How could she, when she had done the same to you?

The wind was colder now, biting at her skin as she sat motionless on the railing. Wednesday didn’t move, didn’t blink, only stared at the ground below. She understood now. Why you had chosen her. It wasn’t because you were fascinated by her, nor because you admired her, no, you did admire her but not in the way the others did.

The Hyde investigation had reached a standstill.

Wednesday gritted her teeth, Yesterday’s rain had washed away what could have been critical evidence. It was infuriating. She hated inefficiency, hated wasting time, hated failure.

And then there was you.

Trailing behind her like a shadow, quiet but persistent.

“…Maybe it’s not someone from this school at all, but an outsider?” Your voice was soft, hesitant, barely loud enough to rise above the sound of her footsteps.

Wednesday didn’t reply. Her mind was a swirling storm of deductions, dead ends, and mounting irritation.

“I mean… you’re so smart, Wednesday. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.”

A compliment. Empty words, spoken with sincerity, but meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

Wednesday stopped walking.

“Stop talking.”

Her voice was flat, sharp, laced with barely contained irritation.

She didn’t have time for this.

You flinched, but you didn’t leave. Instead, you simply adjusted the grip on your notebook, as if grounding yourself, as if trying to take up less space. Your footsteps became softer, your presence dimming, but still there.

Still following.

Still clinging.

By the time they reached the main hallway, the low hum of students passing through only made the irritation coil tighter inside her chest. The voices, the movement, the constant press of bodies—it was suffocating.

And then—

“…I could help if you need someone to brainstorm with…”

She still doesn't understand what was wrong in that sentence that caused her to lash out.

Wednesday stopped abruptly.

You hadn’t been expecting it. You barely had time to react before you bumped into her shoulder, the force of it barely anything, but it sent a fresh wave of irritation through her already frayed nerves.

She spun around, her hand latching onto your arm before she shoved you against the nearest wall.

“You are insufferable.”

Your back hit the cold stone, you froze, your notebook still clutched to your chest.

“Do you not understand the concept of personal space?” Her voice was rising now, sharp enough to cut. “Or basic social cues? How many more insults will it take to penetrate that thick skull of yours and make you realize I am not interested in your pathetic attempts at friendship?”

She remembers she noticed it.

The way your eyes flickered around, the way you took in the students stopping, whispering, watching.

She didn’t care back then.

“I don’t care about your feelings. I don’t care about your problems. And I certainly don’t care about your pitiful attempts to get closer to me.” Her voice was ice, unwavering, merciless. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and stay the hell away from me?”

She didn’t wait for a reaction.

Didn’t wait to see the way your fingers trembled around the edges of your notebook.

She just turned and walked away.

And now, sitting on the railing of her balcony, she understood.

You had clung to her because she was a wall, an impenetrable fortress of indifference and cruelty, and as long as you stayed near her, no one else could touch you. No one else could hurt you.

You weren’t trying to befriend her. You were trying to survive.

She had been your shield.

You had felt safe around her.

Safe.

Wednesday stood outside your dorm, the same day she had watched as they surrounded you, as they tossed your book aside like it was worthless, as you stood there and did nothing, accepted it like it was as natural as breathing.

And now she was here, because… because what? Because she felt responsible? Because she had spent a year noticing the silence you left in your absence? Because something about the way you had looked, empty, resigned—had made something inside her twist unpleasantly?

Her hand hovered for only a second before she knocked twice.

“Wednesday?” you asked, your voice quiet, indifferent.

Wednesday opened her mouth, then closed it.

She had spent the past hour deliberating over this moment, she had thought of this moment in her head, had run through different variations of how this conversation might go, but now, standing in front of you, she realized she had no idea what to say.

She expected—no, she had prepared for—the possibility of anger, of bitterness. Perhaps even avoidance, a door slammed in her face, a sharp remark thrown back at her in retaliation for last year.

But this?

This quiet, unreadable calm?

It made her skin crawl.

How can she bring this up? How could she string together words that didn’t sound weak, didn’t make her feel foolish?

You tilted your head slightly, waiting. Then, after a beat, “Do you need something?”

Wednesday finally forced herself to speak.

“I saw some students bothering you today,” she said, her voice clipped. “Why didn't you even try to fight back?"

It was a simple question. A reasonable one. And yet, the moment she said it, something in your expression shifted.

You looked… surprised.

As if the very idea of someone asking had never even crossed your mind.

Then, slowly, you smiled. A sad, small thing that barely touched your eyes. "It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."

Wednesday studied you carefully, but there was no tension, no bitterness, no frustration—just quiet acceptance, like this was simply a fact of life, an inevitability you had long since resigned yourself to.

“I’ve learned not to fight battles that don’t matter,” you added.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like cowardice.”

She expected a flinch, a glare, some kind of reaction at the insult.

But you only looked at her, that same faint, almost knowing smile on your lips. "Maybe," you said. "Or maybe I’ve just realized there’s no point."

There was no weight behind the words, no emotion for her to latch onto. Nothing.

That should have pleased her. Wednesday had always hated dealing with overly emotional displays, found them exhausting, unnecessary. But this wasn’t peace. This wasn’t calm.

This was a void.

And it unsettled her more than anything else could have.

Wednesday held your gaze for a long moment. Then, before she could stop herself, before she could convince herself it wasn’t necessary, she forced the words out

“I haven’t spoken to you in a year,” Wednesday said, her voice uncharacteristically soft, though still blunt. “That day in the hallway…”

You tilted your head slightly, as if trying to recall something distant. “I don’t blame you, Wednesday. You don’t need to apologize.”

The statement caught Wednesday off guard. She hadn’t been planning to apologize, not exactly. But the fact that you brushed it off so easily, as if it didn’t matter at all, made her feel even more uneasy.

“I wasn’t going to apologize,” Wednesday said quickly, more to reassure herself than you. “I don’t apologize. I just..." she sighed, taking a deep breath.

"I just wanted to say I am not one to dwell on past mistakes, nor do I often feel the need to correct them. However…" A pause. Her fingers twitched at her sides. "I shouldn’t have said what I did. Last year."

Nothing.

No flicker of relief, no sign that this meant anything to you at all.

You simply nodded, voice as steady as ever. "It’s fine."

It wasn’t.

"It really doesn’t matter," you added.

Wednesday’s jaw tightened.

It didn’t matter.

That was what you had said.

The same way you had said it about the group who bullied you.

The same way you had said it about yourself.

It should matter.

But you spoke like someone who had already accepted things would never change. Like someone who had given up long ago.

She didn’t know why that bothered her so much. Wednesday exhaled slowly.

"If they bother you again, tell me."

Your polite, practiced smile returned.

"I’ll keep that in mind."

You wouldn't.

Wednesday was feeling tired now, she hadn't been able to sleep for the past few days. And there was the round glowing thing, up there in the sky, judging her.

So the next time Wednesday didn't hesitate. “Are you all incapable of finding something more productive to do than harass the same person every day?” she said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

The bullies froze, their smug expressions faltering as they turned to face her.

“Look, Addams, we’re just—” one of them began, but Wednesday raised a hand, silencing them.

“I don’t recall asking for an explanation, if you want to keep your body parts intact, I would suggest moving away now.” she said icily.

Before she could take another step toward them, you stood abruptly, placing a hand on Wednesday’s arm.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, your voice steady.

Wednesday frowned, her eyes narrowing. “It’s not okay.”

You shook your head, your gaze meeting Wednesday’s for a brief moment before dropping again. “Please. Just leave it. It doesn’t matter.”

Those three words, and here she thought she hates the other set of three words.

She was beyond frustrated. “Of course, it matters—”

But you cut her off with a faint, almost pleading smile. “Thank you, Wednesday. But I can handle it.”

Your calmness only made Wednesday angrier, but she allowed herself to be stopped. The bullies muttered something under their breath and walked away, clearly unwilling to push their luck further.

You let go of Wednesday’s arm and gathered your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” you said quietly, before walking away without another word.

Wednesday watched as you walked away, the ghost of that practiced smile still lingering on your lips.

It unsettled her.

She should have felt satisfied. The bullies had left. You were no longer being bothered. By all accounts, this was a resolution. Yet, as she stood there, the frustration in her veins had not lessened. It had thickened.

Because you weren’t relieved. You weren’t grateful or upset or anything at all. You were just… neutral. Indifferent. As if nothing that had just happened actually mattered.

And that was what disturbed her the most.

She hadn’t intended to seek you out again that day, but as evening settled over Nevermore, she found herself in your presence once more. It was not premeditated. At least, that was what she told herself.

You were at your usual spot in the library, tucked away in the corner where few people ventured. Your book was open, but Wednesday could tell you weren't reading, your thoughts were elsewhere.

Wednesday sat down across from you without invitation. You looked up, but instead of questioning her presence, you simply nodded in acknowledgment before returning to staring at the pages in front of you.

She waited for you to speak.

You didn’t.

“I assume you have no opinion on this novel?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

You blinked, finally lifting your eyes to hers. There was no confusion, no curiosity—just quiet patience, as if waiting for her to get to the point. “It’s fine,” you said simply.

Fine.

Wednesday studied you for a long moment.

A year ago, you would have said more.

A year ago, you would have tilted your head, started a conversation, told her what you thought, even if you knew she might not respond.

But now?

She felt a strange, unfamiliar irritation.

Wednesday exhaled sharply. "You used to be more talkative."

You blinked, tilting your head slightly, as if this was a strange observation. "Did I?"

Wednesday's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes."

You hummed, as if considering it, before turning the page of your book. "I guess I don’t have much to say anymore."

There was something deeply, profoundly wrong about that.

"You always had something to say before," Wednesday pointed out.

“I suppose I grew out of it.”

Wednesday didn’t believe that.

Not for a second.

But she didn’t know how to make you tell her the truth.

Wednesday had never been one to admire beauty—she found it frivolous, a distraction from the inevitable decay that awaited all things. And yet, she could not deny it.

The moon did look beautiful tonight.

And perhaps it's too late to notice this... has she always been too late to notice things?

It's alright, it doesn't matter.

Somewhere in the months that followed, she had begun to notice things.

Small things.

The way she was drawn to your presence more than she cared to admit. The way her mind wandered when you weren’t near. The way irritation clawed at her when she saw you retreat into yourself, as if part of you was slipping away, disappearing into the quiet that had settled around you for the past year.

She found herself seeking you out, not out of curiosity or obligation, but because she wanted to.

It was unnatural.

It was wrong.

But it was happening.

And she noticed that something else was happening, too.

You were changing.

At first, the silence had been suffocating. Wednesday had spent months trying to pry something—anything—out of you, trying to provoke a reaction, to hear your voice the way she used to. But it had been slow, painfully so, like pulling teeth.

Then, one day, she made a comment about Xavier's iq, and you—

You laughed.

It wasn’t much, just a quiet huff of amusement, barely even there. But it was real.

Perhaps that's what pushed her over the edge.

It started happening more often after that.

Little things.

A subtle smile when she made a dark observation about the world. A quiet response when she asked you a direct question.

You weren’t how you used to be. Not completely.

But you were less silent.

And Wednesday—who had spent her entire life preferring silence—found herself desperate to hear more.

One evening, as you sat across from her in the library, she caught herself staring.

You were focused on a book, your expression calm, lips slightly parted in thought. A stray strand of hair fell in front of your eyes, and without thinking, you reached up and tucked it behind your ear.

It was an utterly mundane action.

And yet, something inside Wednesday twisted.

She dropped her gaze immediately, pressing her nails into her palms.

This wasn’t right.

She knew what this was. She wasn’t stupid. She had read about these things, seen them infect others like a slow-spreading disease.

She was falling for you.

And it was unacceptable.

But the realization did nothing to stop it.

She still sought you out. She still lingered in your presence. She still noticed every detail about you—the way you fidgeted when deep in thought, the way your voice softened when you spoke to her, the way you had begun to meet her gaze a little more often.

She noticed how you were changing.

And she noticed that she was, too.

She had tried to fight it. Tried to ignore the way something inside her clenched whenever you smiled—really smiled, not the polite, practiced one you gave so often.

But it was pointless.

Because this had been building for months now, like a slow-burning fire that refused to be smothered.

And perhaps—

Perhaps she didn’t want to smother it anymore.

Wednesday wasn’t blind to the world. She knew what affection looked like, even if she had never experienced it herself. She had read of it, studied it, dissected it through history and literature and human observation.

And now, she was living it.

There was something deeply unsettling about the realization.

But there was something else, too. Something almost… comforting.

It wasn’t so bad, she supposed, to have someone she didn’t mind being around. To have someone who had seen the worst of her and still—still—remained.

Maybe she could allow this.

Maybe, for once, she could let herself have this.

The Raven was approaching.

Wednesday had never cared for such events—meaningless social gatherings. It was an evening of vanity, of shallow declarations and fleeting romances, none of which had ever interested her.

And yet, for the first time, she found herself anticipating it.

Because this year, it had a purpose.

This year, she would ask you.

The realization should have unsettled her, but it didn’t. Not anymore. She had spent months fighting this, dissecting it, rationalizing it, but there was no use in denying the inevitable. She had fallen for you. The thought of it no longer felt like a weakness.

Perhaps, in some ways, it was a strength.

She had spent so long trying to bring you back—trying to restore the version of you that had been buried beneath silence and indifference. And it was working, wasn’t it?

She could already picture the moment in her mind—she would find you alone, somewhere quiet, away from the noise of the others. She would state it plainly, without unnecessary theatrics or hesitations.

You would say yes.

And after the Raven—

She would tell you.

That she had fallen for you. That somewhere between your silence and your soft smiles, between the way you had once tried so hard to reach her and then stopped entirely, she had found herself tangled in something she could not escape.

She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen afterward. But she would deal with it when the time came.

For now, she just needed to ask you. She just needs to go to your dorm and ask you. She just needs to go to your room and find you.

Wednesday sat on the edge of the balcony railing, her legs dangling over the side.

In her hand, a letter trembled, one she had found beside you.

Her fingers curled tightly around the paper, the words smudged in places where she had gripped it too hard, as if by crumpling it, she could change what was written, change the reality of what had happened. But the ink did not bleed, and the words did not disappear.

They stared back at her.

"I'm sorry."

""I'm tired, Wednesday."

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault."

"Don't blame yourself."

But Wednesday did.

How could she not, when she had seen the signs too late? When she had spent so long convincing herself that you were getting better, that the quiet was no longer something suffocating? When she was the reason you got away?

You were smiling more. Talking more. Responding when she reached out.

For all her investigation skills, she should have known better.

It was never real.

She had studied death all her life, dissected it, understood it in ways most people never could.

And yet, she found herself wondering—

Would a fall from this height be lethal?

It doesn't matter.

She was going to find out soon anyway.

[Author's note: This was a one-shot ask. So blame anon for the heartbreak. I can't believe I wrote all that in one sitting lmao.]

Taglist: @ognenniyvolk@mally-ka@protozoario@machyishere@freakshow2501@101rizzlrr (If you guys don't wanna be tagged in one-shot asks, inform me, I don't mind.)

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

ahhh i read all of your works they are so good. also may please request a "how can you still trust me after everything i've done" with an fem!reader with either 🩺 and/or "i've never met someone as infuriating as you and i can't stop thinking about you" with ⚔️? thank you so much! have a good day!

Hi @beachaddict48 ! Here's the second part of your request! I do hope you like this one! Thank you for asking!

Source for pic

Trust

Word Count: 4934

Tags: fem!reader; modern world AU; mafia; blood; threats; torture; slight angst;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Doflamingo thinks Law is betraying his trust, and what better way to make him confess than by torturing you?

Notes: Ooff, I feel like I need to really get to these requests, but everytime I start to write one I go: oh well, I'll keep this short, around 1k words, or so... IT'S NEVER SHORT! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, even though I'm so not happy with the ending...

|Masterlist|

“He's not going to give you what you want, Doflamingo. He's not a traitor, you're just wasting our time.”

You have only been in Donquixote Doflamingo's office once. That one time, you noted the opulence of such a room. The tidy desk, the vintage whisky bottles in the corner, some more expensive than a car, the sleek, glistening leather of the chairs. You also noticed that the room exuded something other than opulence: danger. You didn't quite know why, apart from the presence of the man who owned it, but the air was thick with it. 

But now you know. 

The ropes binding your wrists seem to get tighter by the second, your heart pounds against your chest in such an erratic way that you're almost positive the blond man can hear it. The leather chair has been replaced by a cold metal one, with plastic beneath its feet. At first, you didn't understand why he needed the plastic, but once he took out his knife, it all made sense. 

Doflamingo doesn't want to make a mess in his office. 

And it seems you're about to become one. 

“See, that's where you're wrong, princesa. In my book, the time spent setting out a trap to catch a rat is time well spent.”

Doflamingo caresses your cheek with long, cold fingers. His crimson eyes glint behind tinted glasses, and the mixture of the sweet scent of his cologne and the metallic tang of your blood makes your stomach churn with revulsion. 

“Law's not a rat.”

“We'll see about that.” He straightens, his lips curling into a thin smirk as he opens the door to his office to let his nephew in. “Come in, Law. I have a surprise.”

You stifle a gasp behind your teeth, your wrists twisting instinctively as you try to reach your boyfriend, to touch him. The effort only makes the rope’s bite harsher. The plastic beneath your bare feet sticks to them, the blood trickling down your leg, creating swirling patterns and tiny pools. 

Law's golden gaze falls on you, and you see it. His control silently slipping. It's something quite small, barely noticeable, but it's there. It's in the slight clenching of his jaw; it's in the way he opens and closes his hand; and it's definitely in the flicker of anger that flashes in his eyes as he directs his gaze back to his uncle. 

“What is the meaning of this? Why is she under questioning?” At least his voice still carries its edge and calm composure, though you, who know him like the back of your hand, can detect the barest trace of hate. 

“Oh, but she's not, Law. You are.” Doffy's chuckle is low and unnerving, his chest trembling slightly as he places his hand in the pocket of the trousers of his perfectly pressed pink suit. 

“I'm not following, Uncle.”

Law shifts, his gaze searching yours again, a shadow of pain darkens the gold, and you take a deep breath, trying to smile through your suffering as to reassure him. He's assessing your wounds, but Doflamingo was merely playing with you before: a slash on your leg, a shallow cut on your arm, a trickle of blood on your collarbone. Law takes it all in, his throat bobbing up and down as he tries to steady his own breathing. He needs to be strong for what's to come. 

“You see, Law, it has come to my attention that I am being betrayed. Someone is spilling my secrets to the police, and we can't have that, can we?” You focus on the glint of the knife tapping against Doflamingo's chin, using the rhythmic motion to try to steady your uneven breathing. 

It doesn't work. 

“I'm going to assume you’ve exhausted all other options before deciding that I should be the one under scrutiny and my girlfriend the one under torture?” He can't disguise it now, even though you know he's trying to stay controlled, you can hear the growl behind his words, the leashed anger, ready to snap. 

“Believe me, Law, I wish it weren’t like this.”

You know Doflamingo is a master deceiver, but the way he delivers his words almost makes you believe he actually regrets this. 

With a heavy sigh, the intimidating Donquixote steps closer to you, and each tap of his expensive shoes sounds like another nail in your coffin. 

“I trust you, Law.” You whisper. 

-*-

It was a freaking deluge. The rain was pouring nonstop, the light and blissful pitter-patter having turned into heavy, merciless drops in mere seconds. Your hands held your purse above your head, trying to shield some of the relentless rain away as you rushed to find shelter. 

You heard it before you felt it. The screeching tires, the wet sound of soaked concrete. And then blinding pain as you were hit before collapsing on the ground. 

Everything hurt, and you barely registered as the car drove away, its driver giving no thought to what might happen to you. 

You remember thinking this was how you would die. Having a lifetime of regrets and barely a handful of life achievements. 

This was how you'd go. 

“Hang in there, help is on the way.” His voice sounded distant, but it was so measured and gravelly that it managed to ground you enough for you to focus on his eyes. 

The most hauntingly beautiful eyes you've ever seen, an amber light in the darkness that enveloped you. 

“Am I going to die?” It wasn't fear that brought up the question, it was deep-seated regret. 

“Not on my watch.”

And he was right. He didn't let you die, he helped you before the ambulance arrived, disturbing the rain with its blinding lights and filling the night with its echoing sirens. 

But all you could hear was his voice, and all you could see were his eyes. 

-*-

The tip of the knife presses against the hollow of your throat, Doflamingo's fingers hovering over your pulse point, feeling how scared you are. 

Little does he know, you're not frightened for your life. 

It's Law's life that worries you. 

“Stop this, Doflamingo. I'm not the one you're looking for.” Law's voice trembles slightly, and you hope his uncle blames it on his anger rather than on him being on the verge of confessing. 

“Sadly, I don't believe that. And I also know how much you care about your little charity case here.”

Law bares his teeth as blood starts dripping from the small puncture wound on your neck. You lock eyes with him, silently pleading for him to be strong. 

“You do know what I do to traitors, don't you, Law? It doesn't even matter if they're family or not…”

Law's breath shudders as he closes his eyes, and you know he's reliving the worst moment of his life: the moment his other uncle, the man who raised him, who made him believe in love again, was murdered in cold blood right in front of him. 

And how that broke him. 

“You're unstable, Doffy. Deranged and delusional.”

Doflamingo removes the sharp tip from your skin, and you let out a deep breath. But then, his fingers grip your hair as he pulls and tilts your head back with enough force to draw tears, the knife now resting horizontally against your throat. 

Yet you don't release a single sound. 

“Ohhh, I'm so much more than that, Law!” His cackle is maniacal, and the grip on your hair tightens. “I'm insane! But I have a reputation to keep and a business to maintain. I will not tolerate traitors!” He says it with such rage that you can feel drops of spittle hitting you in the face, making you flinch. “Are you the traitor, nephew?”

“He's not.” You answer for him, too afraid he'll let his heart take over and confess just to save you. 

“Shut up!” Doffy growls and yanks on your hair, making you gasp as the knife digs into your neck, crimson droplets spilling out and marring your collarbone. “I'm not talking to you, princesa.”

Law takes a step towards you, and you can see how coiled-tight he is, every movement restrained and controlled. 

“Doflamingo…” There's danger in Law's voice. The type of danger that would make lesser men flinch in fear and hesitate. But not Donquixote Doflamingo. 

He revels in it. 

“Just say the words, Law. Either prove me wrong and make me proud, or prove me right and be the same disappointment my brother was.”

Tears gather in the corner of your eyes, your heart clenching at the pain Law must be feeling. You can't let him say anything. 

You can't let him die. 

“Law, I trust you!” There's not much more you can say. 

You hope it's enough. 

-*-

“I can never trust you again, Law! I thought we were becoming something. I thought you were the one. I just… I never expected you to have so many secrets.”

You had been dating Law for almost a year, had practically moved into his flat. You loved him, and though he had yet to confess the same to you, you knew he loved you back. He was a man who showed his love with actions rather than words. 

But these actions spoke louder than any words ever could. 

“Are you going to explain what this is?” The high pitch in your voice almost made you flinch, and you could see your own hand trembling as you pointed to a wad of money, a burner phone, and a gun. All things you had found hidden in the back of a cabinet while looking for treats for Law's dog, Bepo. 

Law lowered his gaze, looking defeated and ashamed, two things you would never associate with him. 

And it nearly broke you. 

“I don't have a good explanation.”

“How about the truth, then?” 

Law groaned as he took a seat at the kitchen table, gesturing for you to do the same, only to be met with a huff and your arms crossing in defiance. 

“My uncle belongs to the mafia. Owns it, actually. All sorts of shady businesses you can imagine.” He chuckled darkly, a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. “And then some.”

“And you?” You couldn't believe what you already knew to be true. Law was a doctor, he saved lives. He couldn't be taking them as well. He couldn't be part of this. He couldn't. 

Your eyes fell back on the gun, on the phone, on the money… 

“I…”

He didn't seem able to say anything else. And you had heard enough. You would never be able to trust him again. 

-*-

“I trust you, Law.” You hope he understands. He can't say anything. Not even if Doflamingo kills you. Law needs to be strong. 

Law grinds his teeth, his eyes locked with yours, burning with fury and determination. You smile at him. He's so strong. 

“I am not the traitor you're looking for, Uncle, but maybe I can help you find them. When you release my girlfriend and stop hurting her.” He takes a step towards Doflamingo, and you see the way his hands flex, like he wants to grab the man and yank him away from you. 

Doflamingo pauses for a moment, his grip loosening slightly as he seems to be lost in thought.

“It's not enough.” He whispers as he finally lets go of your hair. 

Law releases a breath and you gasp for air. 

Then Doflamingo stabs the knife into your shoulder, the blade coming down in a deliberate, arching motion, puncturing your muscle with a sickening sound. The pain is blinding, like nothing else. It radiates down your arm in waves, turning everything too bright and seemingly far away. The wound’s shallow and the knife doesn't seem to have hit anything critical. It’s meant to taunt, not kill. 

You taste blood as you bite your tongue to keep from crying out. You won't give him the satisfaction but mostly, you don't want Law to lose control. 

“Fuck! Doflamingo, stop this nonsense immediately!” Law takes a step forward, determination setting his pace as fury takes hold of him, but Doffy simply uses his other hand to reach for the gun on his back and point it at Law. 

“You stop right there, Law.” Law grunts and halts. You take deep, ragged breaths as your eyes focus back on him, on his gaze, on his pursed lips, and on his clenched jaw. 

“I'm fine…” You stutter. The knife still stands on your shoulder and you're bracing yourself for another wave of blind-hot pain when Doflamingo decides to pull it. 

“You're brave, little girl.” Doffy seems annoyed. “Not. One. Scream.” He emphasizes each word with a slight twist of the knife, and you can't stop the tears. Frankly, it's a miracle you're holding back your screams. “Are you going to speak, Law?”

“I fucking told you all I had to tell you, already! I'm not the one you're looking for! Release her, fuck!”

“You're lying!” Doflamingo shouts, his nostrils flaring in anger as he pulls the knife away from your shoulder, and you finally let out a scream. 

Law calls your name frantically, an urgency in his gaze and you force your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine, Law. I'm fine.” You manage to sputter between deep breaths. 

“FUCK!” Law kicks the chair in front of him and it rolls twice before hitting the desk and stopping. He's clearly seeing you're not fine. “Let her go, now!” He takes another step forward and Doflamingo clocks the trigger of the gun, the barrel still pointing straight into Law's head. 

The shiver that assaults you doesn't come from the blood loss. The small whimper that leaves your lips doesn't come from the pain. The tears marring your cheeks aren't for yourself. 

And Doflamingo knows all of this. 

His laugh starts slowly. A low rumble behind your head that crescendos to a manic chuckle, then to an outright insane cackle. 

“Oh, this is precious. This is so good!” Law's hands clench into fists, and he sways unevenly, both wanting to lunge forward and stop your bleeding and forcing himself to stay still so he doesn't anger his uncle anymore. “I've been doing this all wrong.”

Then he steps away from you, sidestepping the plastic so he doesn't get blood on his expensive shoes. Your breath comes out in shallow gasps, each one making the pain in your shoulder travel through your arm in painful throbs.  

Yet you have no time to consider whether the blood you're losing will kill you, because Doflamingo places one arm above Law's shoulders, the gesture familiar and taunting as he smiles at you. 

“She's very brave.” He says, pointing at you casually with his gun. “And you're a tough nut to crack.” He tsks as he turns his head towards Law, one finger pushing against Law's temple. “I can torture her all night, and she'll barely scream. And you're wound up so tight, she could be on her deathbed, and you'd still be in control of your emotions.”

Law's gaze never leaves you, and you're sure he's watching as you wince every time you breathe, as your breaths grow shallower and shallower. 

“Now, what happens if you're the one being tortured, Law?” The barrel of the gun presses against Law's temple, and your breath hitches, your brows furrowing tightly as you trap a gasp. “You won't scream, I know that, but look at her. Look at your little princesa. I bet you don't even need to scream for her to spill all your secrets. Am I right, mi querida?”

You stay silent, lips pursed and eyes locked on Law. 

“I trust you with my life, Law.”

-*-

“Please, just hear what I have to say.”

“You have said enough, Law.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you tried to close the door to your flat. Law’s foot remained wedged between the door and the doorframe, and you pushed further, not caring if you hurt him or not. “Oh, no, wait. You haven’t said anything. You didn’t deny my accusations, which, in a way, was worse.”

You stopped trying to close the door on him, the gesture futile because he was stronger than you. Lacing your arms around your body as if to shield you from his lies, you took two steps back, expecting Law to burst inside your house. Yet all he did was pry the door open, his hands resting on the doorframe as he slumped his shoulders, his head falling forward in such a defeated way you struggled to keep your heart in check. 

“That’s why I’m here. I want to explain it all to you. But I need you to be ready to listen to me.”

“Have you killed people, Law?”

His sigh was soul-shattering, and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know him, you didn’t know him at all!

“Can I come in?”

A ragged sob left your lips as you turned your back on him. “Fine.”

You didn’t turn to look at him, but you didn’t have to. The soft click of the door told you he had entered, but his presence always seemed to overwhelm everything else in the room. He hovered near you, yet he didn’t touch you or push your boundaries.

“I never killed anyone. But I never did anything to save them either. So, in a way, I’m an accomplice to those deaths.”

You could almost hear regret tinging his words. He sounded bitter, wounded, and grieved. But was he? 

“How many deaths?” His silence should tell you all you needed to know. “How many, Law?”

“Too many to keep track of.” 

You lost strength in your legs, your trembling hands finding purchase on the nearby table. No more trust, no more love. Could everything be over just like that? 

“Just… please, listen to what I have to say.”

You didn't answer him. But you didn’t stop him either. Instead you took a seat at the table, your head bowed down so as not to look into his hypnotizing amber eyes. 

He had already told you how his family died and how he was raised by his uncles. But he had never told you that his uncle Doflamingo had killed his own brother, Rosinante. You heard every word that Law decided to share with you, trying hard to keep your emotions at bay because you found it hard to hate the man you loved so much. Especially when he was baring his heart, his pain to you. 

He shared all about what his uncle did, the drugs he sold, the people he threatened, the high-profiled VIP’s he kept in his pockets, ready to be played like puppets on a string. Then he got into detail about what he did in the organization. And though he never killed anyone with his own hands, he had tortured and maimed enough to be haunted. 

“Why?” You asked, getting up and ready to throw him out of your house, out of your life for good. Even if you loved him with every fiber of your being. “Why are you still working for him when you know everything he does is evil?”

You watched as his throat bobbed up and down, his hands fidgeting with his phone: a burner phone.

Then his eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away. Not when pain was so evident in them, but that was not what held you trapped in his gaze. It was hope.

No… it was…

“Because I’m spilling all his secrets to the police. I’ve been gathering evidence against him since he killed Cora. I’m going to bring him down, destroy his empire, destroy his mafia, destroy him.”

It was revenge.

-*-

“Trust? Trust is such a wasted sentiment, cariño.” Doffy chuckles before leaning in and whispering into Law’s ear. “She trusts you, Nephew, but do you trust her? Because I don’t. What I trust is that she will spill every little secret she holds dear to her heart once I start hurting you.”

“You wouldn’t!” You cry, using your outburst to release some pent-up pain from your shoulder. 

“Wouldn't what? Hurt my own family?” Another maniacal laugh escapes his lips. “You don’t know me at all, princesa.”

Then, without warning, he points the gun at Law’s thigh and shoots.

It all happens too fast, yet somehow, it replays slowly before your very eyes. The sound of the shot still rings in your ears as Law doubles over in pain, his cry trapped between pursed lips and clenched teeth. The smell of blood mixed with gunpowder is intoxicating and dizzying. 

You can’t bear it.

“STOP!” You scream, thrashing against your restraints as Doflamingo kicks Law’s other leg, causing him to kneel on the floor with a dry thud. “Leave him alone, don’t hurt him, please!”

“Look at the mess you’ve made me cause.” Doflamingo seems disappointed as he looks at his pristine carpet, tainted with the blood of his family. “I love it when you beg, princesa, but that’s not what I want to hear. Spill your secrets.”

-*-

“I can’t do this. He’s going to find out. He suspects already, and if he so much as thinks I’m the one behind it…” Law’s hands cupped your face, his eyes weary as they searched yours. “I haven’t hidden you well enough. He knows you’re my weakness. He will come for you, and I can’t–”

“Law…” You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the irregular drumming of his heart. “Oh, Law, you’re doing the right thing. Don’t doubt yourself. You’re so close! He won’t find out, don’t worry.”

Your lips found his, and he groaned, pulling you against him in a desperate embrace. “I can’t lose you, I can’t. I… God, I love you.”

You thought you had loved before, but the way your heart somersaulted, the way your breath hitched as you tried to breathe, was proof enough that you had never loved as deeply as you did Law. 

“And I love you, Law.” You held him close, your hands tangling in his hair, trying to brush away his feelings of fear and insecurity. “I trust you. You’re doing the right thing. I trust you, Law.”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “How?” A low grunt escaped his lips and he nuzzled his face against your neck, inhaling your scent. “How can you still trust me after everything I’ve done?”

You smiled against his chest, raising your arms to envelop his neck.

“You’re a good man, Law. I’ve known that since the day you saved me instead of leaving me to bleed in the middle of the street. I see it in the way you help people at the hospital, I see it in the way you want to bring justice for Cora. You’re kind, good, whole. I trust you with my life.”

-*-

“Are you going to talk, or should I shoot his other leg?”

Law grunts, ripping the fabric of his jacket to tie it around his thigh, stopping the blood but not the pain. 

“Maybe I’ll just skip to the head and get this over with. If I kill him and the treason stops, then I was right, if it doesn’t…” He shrugs. “Oops.”

“You’re sick!” You spit, your eyes searching Law’s. He shakes his head softly, a silent warning for you to remain silent, but you’re not strong enough. You know you’re not.

“Nobody fucks with my business!” Doffy shoves the barrel of the gun harshly against Law’s head, and you cry out again for him to stop. “And Law should know that better than anyone!”

-*-

“How much longer? Don’t they have enough proof already? What more do they need?” You paced the kitchen, back and forth, hands wringing against each other as your breathing came out in irregular gasps. 

“They say they’re almost ready. Almost.” Law typed away on his computer, his fingers detailing Doflamingo’s latest business. He was using a burner laptop, something that couldn’t be traced, and it was hiding in your flat.

“Almost is not soon enough! Doflamingo is breathing down your neck already. How long until he suspects something? I can’t… Law… what if he kills you?” Your voice broke, and you heard the chair scraping against the floor before Law’s strong arms wrapped around your body, trying to tether you and ground you back. To keep you from spiraling.

“Almost, love. We’ll be free. Soon. Trust me.”

-*-

“You have three seconds, doll.” Doflamingo’s voice sounds dangerous, unhinged, and maniacal. You sob, locking eyes with Law again and shaking your own head. You were never strong enough for this.

You will never be able to live without him.

No matter how selfish that may sound.

“One…” The barrel presses harder against Law’s head. “Two…”

“I love you.” Law whispers as you cry harder, your head falling forward and your shoulders wracking with heavy gasps, not even the pain radiating in your shoulder is strong enough to stop the tears.

“Three.” 

“It was me! It was me! It was always me, not Law! Don’t kill him, don’t! He didn’t know anything about it!”

It’s desperate. It's a hollow lie. But maybe he’ll buy it.

“You?”

“She’s lying! We don’t know anything about it!” Law rages, trying to move, but Doflamingo grips the scruff of his jacket, forcing him still as he steadies the gun against Law's head.

“Well, fuck me.” Doffy states. “Guess you’re going to have to die, then, princesa.”

“No! It’s not her!” Law thrashes and you whimper. 

“Is it you, then?” Doflamingo lowers his head, his lips hovering near Law’s ear. “After all I’ve done for you, after what I’ve taught you, after I’ve raised you? This is how you repay me?” You can't quite discern if what you perceive in Doflamingo's voice is disdain or disbelief. Either way he's upset. And he's taking it out on Law. 

“It’s not him!” You keep pleading, but neither of the men are paying attention to you now. “Doflamingo, listen to me. Leave Law alone!”

Law turns his face to the side, facing Doffy, the most unhinged and satisfied smirk spreading on his lips, even as sweat beads fall from his temple down his face. “It was always me, Uncle. I've wanted you behind bars ever since you killed Cora. I carried on the mission he started. I finished it.”

It’s clear Doflamingo was expecting that confession, but he still looks taken-aback. His smirk turns quickly into a scowl as he bares his teeth. 

“I hate you, Doflamingo. I loathe you with every fiber of my being. And you will rot in prison like the vermin you are.”

Doflamingo straightens up, his throat bobbing up and down as he fixes his glasses and suit. 

“Not before I kill you, dear Nephew.” He sighs heavily. “This was quite the disappointment. Go on, then, go meet my dear brother.” He raises his gun again, the barrel pointed directly at Law’s head and as he speaks, you know he’s addressing you, even though his eyes are locked with his uncle’s.

“I have no regrets. I would do it all over again.”

“Stop… stop… please… anyone… please…” You plead, your chest hurting, your vision blurring. You can’t lose him, you can’t. “Law…”

The bang is deafening. It reverberates around the space, clinging to the room like thick fog. You don’t have any more strength to cry, to shout or even to speak. So you close your eyes, tears dropping in an endless torrent.

It’s over.

It’s all over.

You just hope you’re next so you can meet Law in the afterlife.

…

……

………

“Open your eyes, love. Let me see your wounds, you’re bleeding too much.”

“Law?” It can’t be. “Law! What happened?” You look around the room, Doflamingo is sprawled on the floor, a bullet wound in his forehead, blood dripping in a very thin line and tainting his blond locks. 

“A sniper, I’d guess. The window’s shattered and I heard screaming outside. The police must be storming the place. They’ll find us soon. Keep still.”

But you can’t. You want to hold him, hug him, find out if he’s real. 

“Untie me, Law!” With a soft chuckle he presses his forehead against yours for a second before kissing the same spot and untying your wrists. You don’t mind the sharp stab of pain that travels through your arm or the swell in your chest as you hug Law tight against you.

“You did it, Law. He’s gone. He’s gone.” You manage to say between sobs and kisses.

“He should’ve spent the rest of his life in prison, but I’m not going to complain. You’re alive, love.”

“You’re alive.” You sigh, cupping his cheek in your bloody hands. “I knew my trust wasn’t misplaced. I love you.”

“I love you too.” And when you kiss it's like the world stops spinning, the commotion outside the room disappears and the pain ceases. All that exists, all that matters is Law. And the way he completes you. 

There was a time where you had a lifetime of regrets and yet you had barely lived. Now you have faced death and the inevitability of living a hollow life without the presence of your other half. You've found the person that makes everything worth it and you helped him in his quest for justice and righteousness.

You've lived. 

And you have no regrets left. Only trust.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache

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[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

No cause you know what would be funny as fuck Ras Al ghul randomly showing up to the Wayne Manor and just letting himself in doesn't wait for anyone to let him in and he doesn't even tell Talia he's stopping by Wayne Manor and it's the anniversary of Jason's rebirth and Ras accidentally missed Damian's birthday because he was out of the country so here he is just waltzing into the manor here's how I think it'll go

Ra's: breaks into Wayne Manor and bee-lines to the batcave cause his spies told him Damian and Jason were down there

Bruce:has his back turned to the entrance in the middle of lecturing Jason for being reckless and for rigging his batmobile to shoot fucking glitter bombs whenever he tried to fire any kind of projectile

Jason: come on it was funny and it worked honestly I thought you'd be happy no one's dead they're just covered in glitter

Bruce: eye twitching

Damian: notices Ras just casually waltzing into the bat cave

Damian: hello grandfather

Bruce:spins around to find Ras in his lair bracing himself for a fight or some type of bad news only for ras to by pass him entirely and beeline to Jason and Damian

Ra's: snaps his fingers and assassin's come out of nowhere seemingly appearing from the shadows one is holding a bear cub with a little bow on its head and hands it to damian and steps back meanwhile another assassin appears with a giant stack of first edition leather bound classic literature and some rare ones that are almost unheard of to have

Ra's: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY GRANDSON'S :)

Bruce: is baffled because why is Ras calling Jason his grandson where did he get a bear cub why is he gifting Damian a bear cub, Damian's birthday was a month ago wtf Bruce's eye is twitching

Jason: oooo these are really hard to get, oh all of these are leather bound this is awesome thanks gramps though it's not really my birthday is your memory going old man

Ra's: this is the anniversary of your rebirth

Jason: ...

Damian: I appreciate the gift grandfather I shall name this bear lilly

Bruce: Damian I ... Look okay.. it's nice your .. his eye is twitching and he's trying to not lose his patience because again wtf.. grandfather has put an effort into this uh. Gift but you simply can't keep a bear in the manor much less in Gotham it's a wild animal

Damian: 😐 so isn't Jason and we keep him around and he gets to waltz around Gotham and the manor

Jason: hey listen here ya little shit

Bruce: exasperated first off your brother is not an animal secondly I'm not sure it's legal to keep a bear cub as a pet in Gotham

Damian: like running around Gotham dressed as a bat to beat up bad guys is legal, or that time you purposely broke into Arkham asylum to free Selina Kyle because her input on your suit was just sooooo important

Bruce: looks to Alfred

Alfred: well we do have the land space to build a sanctuary for the cub and the permits it would be quite an easy task to say the Wayne foundation is funding a bear sanctuary

Damian: ☺️ thank you Alfred

Bruce: turns to Ras why would you gift Damian a bear cub

Ra's: it was on his wishlist, and only the best for my grandsons, also you owe me child support

Bruce: ready to throw hands at this point

Alfred: smirks

Jason: trying really hard not to laugh

Ra's: ofcourse I'll let it go if you let the boy keep the bear cub in fact I have another gift but it won't be arriving for about a week 🙂.. he then turns to Damian you should give your mother a call she said something about wanting to plan something I'm really not sure what it is she's on about but regardless I think she'd like your input ... Well actually both your inputs

Bruce: sighs fine they get to keep the bear and we'll build the damn sanctuary but Damian i expect you to have it at least potty trained and do not under any circumstances let it in the kitchen I do not need a repeat of last time you got a new pet

Ra's: happy that he's annoyed the fuck out of Bruce and got his grandsons Great gifts my job here is done he claps his hands and his assassins fade back into the shadows

Jason: already lounging on a couch reading

Damian: holding the bear in his arms and patting it let's go get you some apples covered in honey 😊 walks out the cave with the bear cub

[love-byers]

boyfriends who defend and reassure each other <3

"Wait, this is Will's fault?!" 1x01

"I'm the only one acting normal here! I'm the only one that cares about Will!" 1x01

"Will could've cast protection last night, but he didn't. He cast fireball. [...] My point is, he could've played it safe, but he didn't. He put himself in danger to help the party." 1x01

"She pointed at him, at his picture. She knew he was missing, I could tell." 1x02

"Maybe it's his ghost, maybe he's haunting us." "It's not his ghost." "And how do you know that?" "I just do." "Then what did they pull out of that water?" "I don't know! All I know is Will is alive. Will is alive!" 1x04

"Hey! Hey! Hey, Troy! Hey, Troy! You…you think this is funny? […] I saw you guys laughing over there. I think that's a real messed up thing to do." 1x04

"Now she's going to let him die in the Upside Down--" "Shut up!" 1x05

"I'm gonna get you home, okay? I'm gonna get you home." 2x02

"Maybe...maybe that's good." "Good?!" "Just think about it, Will. You're like a spy now. A super spy. Spying on the shadow monster. If you know what he's thinking and feeling, maybe that's how we stop him. Maybe all this is happening for a reason." "You really think so?" "Yeah, Yeah I really do." "What if he figures out we're spying on him? What if he spies back?" "He won't." "How do you know?" *grabs his hand* "We won't let him." 2x05

"Closing the gate will kill him." 2x09

"It's a cool campaign it's really cool!" 3x03

"What if you want to join another party?" "Not possible." 3x08

"I don't think Mike is gonna like that you're lying to him. And he doesn't deserve that, and when he finds out he's gonna be mad." 4x02

"Seems like you've made it super clear you're not interested in anything I have to say." "That's just not true." 4x02

"I was being a total jerk to El, I deserved it…" "No. No, you didn't deserve anything." 4x04

"Listen, the truth is, the last year has been weird, you know? I mean, Max, and Lucas, and Dustin, they're great, they're great, it's just...it's Hawkins, it's not the same without you. And I feel like maybe I was worrying too much about El...I don't know, maybe I feel like I lost you or something. Does that make sense?" *nods* "I have no idea what's gonna happen next. But whatever it is, I...I think we should work together. I think it'll be easier if we're—we're a team. Friends. Best friends." "Cool." "Cool." 4x04

"I should've explained myself, because then maybe Eleven would've taken me with her and things would be different, but…" "No-" "I—I didn't know what to say." 4x05

"Sometimes...I think it's just scary to open up like that. To say how you really feel. Especially to people you care about the most. Because...what if they don't like the truth?" *nods*4x05

"Sorry." "No--" "No, it's so stupid given everything that's going on." 4x08

"See how you're leading us here? You're guiding the whole party, inspiring us. That...that's what you do. And see your coat of arms here? It's a heart. I know it's sort of on the nose, but that's what holds this whole party together: heart. And without heart, we'd all fall apart. Even me. Especially me." 4x08

"He's not going to stop, ever. Not until he's taken everything, and everyone. We have to kill him." *grabs his shoulder* "And we will. We will." 4x09

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.2k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Chapter 7: A Glimpse of Truth

Isla's POV

The night air was cool against my skin as I stood on the balcony, arms crossed over my chest. Velaris stretched out before me, glittering like a sky turned upside down. The view, breathtaking as ever, offered little comfort tonight. My mind was a tangled mess of questions and doubts, most of them circling back to Azriel.

Azriel.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Every interaction left me feeling more confused, more drawn to him despite the walls he constantly erected between us. And his shadows—they were always there, lingering around me like a silent promise, even when he wasn't.

I turned, my gaze falling on the shadows curling near my feet. They danced slowly, as though sensing my turmoil. They weren't threatening or cold. No, they felt... familiar. Safe.

"Why do you always follow me?" I whispered, half to myself, half to the shadows.

They didn't respond, of course. They never did in words. But the way they shifted, brushing gently against my wrist, felt like an answer. They were there because they chose to be. Because they wanted to.

A soft rustle of wings broke the quiet, and I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Azriel had a way of entering spaces without making a sound, but I always knew when he was near.

I kept my eyes on the city below. "You don't have to keep doing this."

"I wasn't planning to." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it as if he was tired of having this conversation.

I turned to face him, unable to stop myself. He stood a few feet away, his shadows swirling restlessly around him as if they couldn't decide whether to stay with him or come to me. I'd never seen them behave this way before—like they were torn between us.

"You always say that," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "You always act like it's something you can't help. But if that's true, then tell me—why are your shadows always with me? Why do they act differently around me than they do with anyone else?"

He flinched, just slightly, but enough for me to notice. For once, he didn't have a ready answer.

"I don't know," he said after a long pause. "I've never seen them behave this way either."

I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "They're a part of you, Azriel. They don't do anything without reason. So what reason do they have for being with me?"

His gaze met mine, dark and unreadable. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then he spoke, his voice quieter than before, as if admitting it was painful.

"They reflect my emotions," he said. "My shadows—they react to what I feel. They always have."

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and charged with meaning. I swallowed hard, trying to process what he was telling me. His shadows reacted to his emotions. Which meant...

"They come to me because of how you feel about me," I said aloud, needing to hear the words, to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

Azriel's jaw tightened. "It's not that simple, Isla."

"Why not?" I demanded. "You care about me. You don't have to say it—I can feel it. Your shadows make it clear enough. So why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because it doesn't matter," he said, his voice rough with something I couldn't quite name. "I can't... I can't give you what you want, what you deserve. It's Elain—"

"Elain," I cut in, bitterness creeping into my tone. "You keep using her as an excuse. You say she's something special to you, but she's with Lucien. She made her choice, Azriel. Why can't you make yours?"

He looked away, his shadows flickering uneasily. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't," I said, my voice trembling. "I don't understand how you can feel something for me, how your shadows can be drawn to me, and yet you still act like I'm nothing more than a replacement for someone you can't have."

That got his attention. His gaze snapped back to mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw in his eyes—something that made my chest ache.

"You're not a replacement," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Don't ever think that."

"Then what am I?" I whispered, hating how vulnerable I sounded. "Because right now, I feel like I'm stuck in this limbo where you want me close, but not too close. Where your shadows comfort me, but you won't."

He didn't answer.

The silence stretched between us, too loud, too painful. I shook my head, stepping back.

"I can't do this, Azriel. I can't keep waiting for you to figure out what you want. I deserve more than that."

His shadows flickered around me, hesitant, as if they didn't want me to leave. But I ignored them, turning away before he could see the tears gathering in my eyes.

I left the balcony without another word, my heart aching in a way I hadn't expected. I didn't know what hurt more—his reluctance to let me in, or the fact that his shadows still followed me, even when he didn't.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I spent the next few days avoiding him. It wasn't hard—Azriel was a master at keeping to himself, and I knew how to disappear when I wanted to. But no matter where I went, his shadows were always there, a constant reminder of what I was trying to forget.

It should have been comforting. Instead, it only made the ache worse.

"Isla, are you all right?" Mor asked one afternoon as we sat in the sitting room.

I forced a smile. "I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press the issue. Still, I could feel her watching me, as if she knew exactly what—or rather, who—was bothering me.

Later that night, when I found myself once again standing on the balcony, I wondered if I'd ever truly be able to move on. If Azriel's shadows would ever stop haunting me.

"I told them to stay away."

The voice startled me, but I didn't turn around. I knew who it was.

"They don't seem to listen to you," I said quietly.

Azriel stepped beside me, his expression unreadable as he looked out over the city. "They don't. Not when it comes to you."

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to ask what that meant. I didn't want to have this conversation again, didn't want to open old wounds that hadn't even begun to heal.

"I'm sorry," he said after a long moment.

I glanced at him, surprised. "For what?"

"For hurting you. For making you feel like you weren't enough."

His words were quiet, but they cut through me like a blade. I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"I don't know what this is," he continued. "I don't know what it means, or why it's happening. But I know one thing—I care about you, Isla. More than I should."

I turned back to him, my heart pounding. "Then why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because I'm afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what it means. Afraid of what I'll lose if I let myself care too much."

I didn't know what to say to that. So instead, I took a step closer, reaching out to brush my fingers against the shadows still lingering between us.

"You don't have to be afraid," I said softly. "You don't have to do this alone."

For a moment, I thought he might pull away again. But then his shadows wrapped around my hand, warm and familiar, and I knew that maybe—just maybe—there was hope for us after all.

Taglist:- @donnadiddadog@onebadassunicorn-blog@wintersquirrel@rcarbo1

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Free

Summary: Bucky is freed from his Hydra programming but your demons still hold you captive. This leaves you unsure of whether you have a place in the future of the man you love, but he reassures you nothing has changed.

A fire crackles between the two figures in the dead of night somewhere in the forests of Wakanda, far away from the prying eyes of everyone. You watch them from the shadows, leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed over your chest. As much as you appreciated the Wakandans for their help in trying to remove Bucky's Hydra brainwashing, you weren't sure about what would happen when Ayo said the words so here you were, waiting in hiding just in case you needed to step in.

"You sure about this?" His voice wavers slightly. You twirl the knife in your hand, a nervous habit you've developed over the years which Bucky has been trying to make you break because "you'll scare people off doll, especially with that scowl of yours". Your gaze flicks to Ayo, and for the briefest of moments her eyes meet yours.

"I won't let you hurt anyone." Her voice is reassuring, but you remain on edge. You know the consequences of letting your guard down, and you won't let that happen again. You look at Bucky, who's staring at the fire, fingers twitching and curl your fingers around the hilt of your knife a little tighter. You know how to use unlethal means to bring the Winter Soldier down, but you'd rather avoid the situation altogether. It hurt you to hurt him, even more so if it was intentional, and you swallow at the thought. To think a few years ago you wouldn't have batted an eye at the notion of driving a dagger into his heart, you've changed a lot since being free of Hydra.

Rusted.

You watch the pair, the night air filled with the quiet chirping of insects and the crackling of the fire. Bucky doesn't move, the Winter Soldier still lying dormant within him.

Seventeen.

Ayo walks closer to him and you shift, standing upright now.

"It's not going to work." Bucky exhales, shaking his head. You frown, it's been working so far, and you are hoping for his sake that the Wakandans with their advanced technology have managed to give him his freedom.

Daybreak.

You have to admit, Ayo's Russian is rather impressive. You've barely taught her anything, spending more time sparring with her during your sessions together than actually teaching her how to speak Russian and yet here she is, confidently saying each trigger word.

Furnace.

Bucky's chest is heaving now and you take a small step towards the duo, eyes narrowed.

Nine.

You can't imagine what's going through his mind right now, perhaps it's flashbacks of his time as the Winter Soldier, perhaps it's flashbacks of all the times these words were read to him, perhaps it's a combination of both. You want nothing more than to run over and hug him tightly, whisper that everything is going to be alright, that you're right there with him, but you can't. He doesn't know you're here, and you'd rather keep it that way. This is his moment, his turn to regain the freedom he rightly deserved, and it's not your place to barge in.

Benign.

He grits his teeth and your heart aches for him but you force yourself to remain where you are. You're here just in case the Winter Soldier goes on a rampage, nothing more. You're here as the Reaper, not as Y/N L/N, significant other of James Buchanan Barnes. This is his trial to go through, all you can do is be there for when things get physical.

Homecoming.

His breaths are becoming heavier, the fire glinting in his eyes. His bottom lip trembles, but there's no sign of aggression, no emptiness, none of the usual indicators that the Winter Soldier is resurfacing. You raise an eyebrow, had Shuri done it? Only one way to find out.

One.

Tears have started to form in the corners of his eyes, reflecting the flicking orange glow in front of him. You relax, but your knife remains in your hand. One more word, and all three of you will know if he's truly free or not.

Freight Car.

Nothing happens. Silent tears stream down his cheeks and his body shakes with quiet sobs. He's free, finally. You're happy for him, really. He deserves all of this and more, and you wish him all the best. The door to a normal life is open for him now, and you want him to live it, to catch up on all the years he's lost as the Winter Soldier, to live a life you can't provide for him.

You turn, unsure of where you'll go now that you and Bucky have separate paths to tread. There is nothing left in Wakanda for you anymore, maybe you could go to Madripoor and find a place to put your skills to good use, there would be plenty of work for you there. Or maybe —

"And where do you think you're going?" Okoye.

"Somewhere." You shrug.

"You're going the wrong way."

"Pretty sure this is the exit towards the capital city. I'm not that bad at directions." Okoye moves to block your way, eyebrows furrowed. You growl and try to shoulder past her but she refuses to budge, a firm look in her eyes.

"Move it." You feel the anger rising within you, fingers curling.

"I will not. Not until you talk to him." Okoye fixes you with a hard glare. The two of you have sparred countless times, and while you know you can take her on with your powers, fighting will only spoil the mood of the night. Also Bucky will know you were here, and it would be better to avoid that.

"He doesn't need me anymore. I'll only drag him down," you mutter. "He can finally live a normal life and I have no place in that."

"And who decides that? You?" Okoye gives you a shove towards where Bucky is still sitting in front of the fire. "He's finally free of other people forcefully dictating his life and now you want to do that too?"

"I—"

"You keep running, Reaper. When are you going to fight?"

You exhale sharply, hands balled into fists. "Fighting is —"

"Fighting is what you're good at. Start doing it." Okoye places a hand on your shoulder. "I know you are stronger than this."

"Right." You run a hand through your hair. "Thanks."

Taking a deep breath, you turn to look at the man you love with every inch of your soul, rivers of tears flowing down his cheeks. A pit forms in your stomach, gnawing away at you with each step you take towards him and your breath catches when his ice blue gaze meets yours.

"Hey." You barely squeak out. Your heart thumps in trepidation, fingers playing with the loose fabric of your shirt.

"Doll." His body relaxes. "Hey."

He gives you the soft smile you can't resist and you nearly crumble in front of him. How are you going to tell him that you're leaving, that there's no place for you in the normal life waiting for him at the end of his path?

"I assume you already saw everything?" He reaches out, beckoning you closer when you don't move. You bite the bottom of your lip, resisting the urge to kiss away his tears and step forward.

"Yeah. I did." Your heart thunders in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it with that super soldier hearing of his. "Congrats."

"Thanks, doll." He pulls you into a tight hug, nuzzling into your hair. "Now I don't have to worry about accidentally killing you. I don't have to be afraid of myself anymore, we can live a normal life together, well as normal as we can get."

"You can't kill me anyways, intentionally or not." You huff while he chuckles, the sound clogged by the saliva in his throat. Your arms hang limply by your side, unsure of whether to hug him or pull away, your heart torn from your dilemma. "James, I—"

"We'll free you too, I promise. No matter what it takes, I'll find a way." He looks into your eyes earnestly, cupping your cheeks with his palms. "I promise."

His whisper is all it takes for you to shatter. You bite the inside of your cheek hard but the tears still escape anyways, your shoulders shaking with each silent sob and Bucky curls around you, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other pressing on your back. His metal hand rests on the back of your head, holding you close, metal fingers threading through your hair without fear of hurting you.

"You — you still want me?" You choke. "I can't give you a normal life, you deserve someone who can, not someone whose past keeps chasing them. I —"

"I don't care what I deserve. I only care about what I want, and that's you, no one else. Only you understand me, only you know me, every part of me. There's no one better for me than you, and there's no one else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with." Bucky presses his forehead against yours, letting out a soft sigh. "I only want you."

"But a normal life —"

"I don't want a normal life if I can't have it with you." He closes the distance between your lips, kissing you fervently. You hesitate, fingers lightly touching his hands and he pulls away.

"Doll? If you don't want me I —"

"I do!" You grip his hands tightly. "I want you, all of you, but I can't drag you down. I can't take your future away from you, not when you finally have it back."

"You are my future, doll. You can never drag me down, you aren't heavy or strong enough." His lips curve upwards into an amused smile. "So you don't have to worry about that."

You sniff, lightly hitting him in the chest. "Is that a challenge?"

He laughs, peppering kisses all over your face. "Take it how you will, doll. I just need to know that you want me."

"You're all I ever want." Your thumb caresses his cheek as you look lovingly into in his eyes.

"And you're all I ever want."

[lemon-ti]

Why now I want to see Mei and MK fight? (The shadow gambit au I mean)

And does Mei parents aware that their child were you know causing chaos and destruction?

I'm back! Finally got a chance to answer this! :,)

For your second question, Mei's parents trust Macaque, her mentor, completely to keep her in check. After all, as a family with an ancient lineage, it is crucial for them to maintain a good reputation.

The Dragon family always keeps their head up high, even in the face of... this.

...Ahem.

Yes, so to start with, in the Shadow's Gambit AU, Mei was the first to rise as Megapolis' so called hero.

Our bold, fearless dragon girl dove head first into danger, utterly annihilating the poor soul who thought today would be a good day for villainy. Much to her mentor's amusement... and the public's horror.

Of course, that doesn't mean her parents were about to leave Mei to suffer the consequences of that little.. blunder on her own.

Not with their name, their legacy, at stake.

The Dragon family didn’t get to where they were by letting others dictate their story. They had the resources. The influence. The power to make sure the world saw what they wanted it to see.

Macaque, ever the helpful mentor, had made that much clear.

Mei was a hero - she had only done what was necessary. And the ones whispering against her? They were just scavengers, circling, waiting for a chance to strike.

"Honestly, they’re just like bugs, aren’t they?" Macaque would muse, flicking a speck of dust from his sleeve, barely sparing the paper a glance as he lounged in the chair opposite Mei’s parents. "Crawling out of the woodwork, buzzing nonsense, trying to sink their teeth into something they have no business meddling with."

"Still, can’t have this kind of slander floating around, can we? Wouldn’t be right - after everything you’ve built, after everything Mei’s done. But, you know, bugs… well, they’re easy to deal with. If talking won’t shut ‘em up, squashing ‘em always does the trick."

He'd lean forward, flashing an easy grin.

"Lucky for you, I don’t mind doing the dirty work. So, what do you say? Shall we clear the infestation?"

And wouldn’t you know it? In just two weeks, the headlines shifted, and Mei’s critics fell eerily silent.

Oh, and for the first question? Yeah, don't worry about it. :)

[ihavethedreamies]

Kept Secret | Changbin [NSFW]

Seo Changbin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: Wonsanghwa! Changbin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

(A Wonsanghwa was essentially the guy who trained the Hwarang.)

Genre: Historical AU!, Pre-Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Friends-to-Lovers (ish)

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (Princess [also her title]), Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Big Dick! Changbin, Cockbulge (slightly), Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)

Summary: You are the youngest princess, and because of that you get the most freedom. The only thing your father refuses is to let you learn to fight. So, you get rid of the middleman and go straight to the Wonsanghwa.

Author's Note: Holy crap, I'm back! If you didn't read my pinned post, I basically took a hiatus to write my book, and...that didn't happen so I'm back owO

This one is not in the Joseon era, this is set much earlier, probably around the 9th century. I know most of what I do of the Hwarang based on The Great Queen Seondeok which is, from what I understand, at least somewhat more accurate than the show Hwarang.

P.S. At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, including the clothing they wear and some other terms.

P.S.S. Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Bang Chan's <-

-> Lee Know's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Birds chirp in the trees, the leaves casting a shadow from the late morning light over your face. Your cheek is pressed to the wood of the table you’re sitting at in the palace pavilion with your sisters. Rocking the chair under you in boredom, you just sigh.

“What's the issue now?” Your sister next to you, Seoyoung, three years older, doesn't even look up from the scroll she’s writing on. Probably a letter to her husband.

“Probably the same issue as before.” The second youngest, Miseong, hums, popping another piece of fruit in her mouth, “children get bored so easy.”

“You're like a year and half older than me, be quiet.” You sit up straight so you can sneer directly at her. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear coyly, batting her eyelashes and you can’t help but huff in amusement.

“I don't see why you want to learn to fight.” The eldest of your sisters, Daeyoon shakes her head, picking through her tray of beads to find another for the piece she’s making.

“I don't see why you keep asking father.” Miseong scoffs. She has a point.

“Because father said no, neither Gaeyong nor Taseok will teach me.” Your brothers are too obedient for your own good. They never help you do anything fun.

“Then ask one of the hwarang, even just a nangdo.” Wonyoung finally speaks up. She’s the middle sister and sits in a weird place socially among the family. Your two eldest sisters get away with nothing, and you and Miseong get away with almost anything. It’s a toss-up what your mother or father will do if she gets in trouble. Especially because she rarely does. Since you’re the baby, you’re treated as such. Any misbehavior is brushed off as childish fun and you’re praised for minor things. You were a spoiled brat as a kid, and you know it. The one thing you want most is the one thing you’re held back from. Your father restricts you from learning to fight more for your protection than even you being a woman, which honestly pisses you off more.

“I don't know any of the nangdo. They're even stricter though because they get in trouble easier. I think the hwarangdo are too close with Taseok…”

“What about that younger guy that is the trainer? I think he's about Gaeyong's age.” Seoyoung speaks up, just wanting you to stop whining about learning to swordfight.

“Oh, yeah, he was so good he got promoted when the last Wonsanghwa retired and the senior sangseon got really mad!” Miseong nods, then grins evilly, “he's handsome too.”

“He's short.” Wonyoung adds and you honestly don't mind. You’re short too. She probably mentioned it because her fiancée is so tall. All of your sister's partners are, and of course you’re the only single one. But that’s beside the point, you want a trainer not a spouse.

“Can you try and help me meet with him?” You look at Daeyoon and she shoots you a withering look. Her husband is a gukseon, so he would be able to.

“Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease-” You rub your hands together, ready to get on your knees to beg.

“Heavens! Fine!” She aggressively throws a silver bead back into her tray.

 ~ò3ó~

“W-wait, unni, don't leave me alone!” You hiss at Miseong as she begins to leave.

“I'm not getting in trouble with you!” She shoots back and then dashes away, leaving you alone in the courtyard of the hwarang housing, the moon shining high among the stars above your head. The dull, warm light of the lanterns seems eerie when out alone, even the normal peaceful cricket noises put you on edge.

“Gongjunim?” An unfamiliar voice catches your attention, and you flinch, spinning around to see the owner. Judging by what he’s wearing, he’s the Wonsanghwa. And…he is short. However, he’s very handsome as well. Plus, the fabric of his uniform seems to strain against the muscles of his chest and arms underneath. Your face suddenly feels warm, and you’re glad for the lowlight.

“U-uh…” you clear your throat, then stand straight like you’ve been taught all your life, “yes.” He bows deep at the waist, then comes closer so he’s standing before you. Just because he’s short for a man, doesn't mean he isn't still taller than you, nearly five chon.

“Gukseon Bodam told me you want to learn to fight?”

“Yes! I don’t care if it’s a sword, or even just a little dagger,” you motion with your index fingers, “or maybe a pong stick of something? A spear?”

“You could hurt yourself with something like that.” He hums, looking you up and down. You sneer at his derisive look, and he raises a brow. He scratches his forehead under the headband he has tied around his head.

“I…I could. That’s why I want to be taught.” You insist, trying to sound assured of your own statement. He turns his head away, seeing if anyone is around. He has his hair up in a full top knot unlike many of the hwarang who normally keep their hair half-down. It suits him though. When he looks back at you, he sighs.

“Fine. I’ll train you in martial arts, no weapons.” He turns around and motions for you to follow him toward what you presume is the actual training grounds.

“Is everyone asleep, Wonsanghwa?” You ask, walking next to him. It’s nice to just be beside someone since you’re so used to being followed by a handmaiden instead of her next to you.

“Should be. Don’t worry, even if we get caught, no one knows exactly who you are to snitch.” You finally arrive and he motions to a small shed at the back of the area.

“Go change, you'll ruin your dress, Gongjunim.”

“I see. I…what is your name?” You turn back to him after stepping toward where he pointed.

“Seo Changbin, Gongjunim.”

“Ah. Thank you, Changbin-ssi.” He nods and you scurry off to do what he said.

The clothing is a bit too large, but that’s understandable. You even decide to tie your hair up much like the hwarang do, with the headband and everything.

“I’m ready!” You smile at him, proud of yourself and he casts you an amused grin, then raises his brow.

“You ready?”

“Yes!”

 ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

“Keep your feet spread more, and put more force with your calf and shin, not your whole leg.” Changbin uses his ankle to press on yours and get you in the right stance. He’s been working with you for about three weeks, even managing to get you some training during the day instead of at night. You’re getting better to the point that he decides maybe, one day, you can try a practice sword.

Following his advice, you go to deliver another kick to the straw dummy he’s set up. You knock it over and he nods in approval. As he instructs, he’ll often maneuver you into the right pose or stance with his hands or feet. Sometimes, he’ll be close enough that his chest presses against your shoulder or back, and you have to fight back a blush. The longer you work with him, get to know him, you realize you’re falling…fast. He’s actually extremely sweet despite being a rather strict trainer. And he’s good too. Strong. You really want to see him underneath all those layers of his uniform…

“Eyes ahead, Gongjunim.” He snaps in front of your face; his smirk becomes clear when you zone back into reality.

“R-right!” As you go to demonstrate the next move, you ankle twinges and you yelp in pain, twisting wrong and falling onto your shoulder.

“Ow!” You land on a rock or something and when you sit up, there’s a tear in your borrowed clothing, a bit of blood staining the white fabric.

“Hey, let me see.” Changbin is immediately at your side, looking over the cut and you press your lips together, eyes flitting all over his face. You didn’t and still don’t believe him when he said he was a scrawny kid and teenager. Can’t really even picture it.

“I can help you clean this up, it’s not too deep.” He stand and when you go to follow him, your ankle screams, making you stumble. He catches you with his chest and you just want to press closer.

“Your ankle again?”

“Yeah.” You’ve been twisting it a lot and it seems more likely to happen the more often it does happen.

“May I?” You’d gotten more informal with each other, but you are still a princess. You nod and with great ease he lifts you into his arms to carry you to the clinic room of the hwarang housing. Changbin gently sets you down onto a chair inside and begins to tend to the cut.

“Um…so, you mentioned the other day your dad is trying to match you with a girl?”

“Yeah, but most of them haven't wanted to continue courting when they see my height.” He sniffs in dismissal, and you wrinkle your nose in annoyance.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re sweet, and funny, and handsome.” He looks up at you then and you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him. His crooked brow falls, and he smiles gently.

“I’m glad at least you see me that way.” You flinch when he dabs at the cut with a wet cloth. There’s some sort of herbal poultice he just adds water to and applies with a bandage to your cut. It stings a bit, then feels much better.

“Why did you really want to learn to fight?” Instead of brining you back outside, he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. You look at your lap, fiddling with your fingers.

“A year ago, my sisters and I got…well, mugged basically while we were in the market and when we tried to get our money back, I got punched and I…I couldn’t do anything to defend myself or my sisters I…hated it. Even to just learn something, to do anything…” It wasn’t the most terrifying experience since it was just some teenager that did it, but you hated feeling so helpless.

“Then we should stick with martial arts. You don’t need to be able to fight with a weapon for something like that.” He stands back up to lead you back out, but you bump into him when he stops right before the door. He turns to look at you softly, “I don’t want you to get hurt even if it’s just learning to fight. I don’t want to be the one who lets you get hurt.” His eyes flick to the cut he bandaged on your arm. Changbin then leaves the clinic, and you wait a few seconds to follow him, patting your cheeks that you know for sure are red.

~◕‿◕✿~

“Changbin?” You’d arrived at the hwarang compound of the palace at your designated time, but the Wonsanghwa isn’t there. Looking around to see if you can see even a trace of him…nothing.

“Gongjunim?” An unfamiliar voice calls out instead and you turn to look, panicked. From the uniform you can tell it’s another member of the hwarang, probably a nangdo. Luckily, you aren’t in your training uniform yet.

“Y-Yes?” You stand up straight, readopting your regal posture you had let relax.

“Can I help you?” he asks, stepping closer; his face is vaguely familiar.

“Oh. I-I'm looking for the Wonsanghwa.”

“Ah, he's not here now. He had to return to his father's home to meet with a family friend's daughter.” Daughter? A woman…

“Oh.” Your entire posture deflates, and you know why the information upsets you so much, but you are a bit ashamed showing it in front of the nangdo.

“Are you (Y/N)-gongju?” he asks, and you look up at him a bit, nodding.

“If you want to wait, I'm sure he'll be back soon. You know, he won't stop talking about you?” The younger man smiles, and your head shoots up to focus on him.

“Really?”

“Hm. I wouldn't worry too much, I'm sure he'll be back soon, just as single.” The nangdo smiles and leaves and you sigh. It’s too risky to wait out in the open, but you aren’t sure where to go to wait either without going back to where you are technically allowed. Heading back to the clinic where Changbin had tended to several little cuts and scrapes you tend to get; you sit at the same table to wait.

~

“(Y/N)?” You jerk away, lifting your head from your folded arms, then rub your eye. It’s dark out, only the faint light of torches from outside shining in the room.

“Huh?” The door opens then, and Changbin steps in, dressed in normal clothes rather than his hwarang wear.

“How long have you been here?” He huffs, setting he lantern down on the table, letting the stick it hangs from rest on the surface as well. He sits across from you and licks your lips nervously.

“Um…around shinshi…” You admit.

“Aigo, it’s been hours… Why did you wait for me?” He shakes his head in disbelief. He only looks a little different without his headband, but somehow, he’s even more handsome.

“Well, um, because-”

“Was it because I was meeting Lord Bak's daughter?” Your silence is telling enough.

“(Y/N),” you’d told him a while ago to just use your name when it’s just you two, “were you jealous?” Changbin smiles, not a smirk, he’s grinning like an idiot. Your silence is, once again, telling enough.

“(Y/N). Do you really think I’d even want to look at a woman who isn’t you?” His voice is gentle, but his giddy grin doesn’t change.

“H-huh?”

“When I got to my family’s, I told my father I didn’t want to court anyone. Well, not no one, only you. That’s why I was gone for so long, we had to get a bigger dowry put together. My father’s meeting with the king now.” He gets up, going around the table to you, and kneels on the floor so he can look up at you. Tears are already gathering in your eyes.

“I hope it wasn't too forward of me to assume you would say yes?”

“Of course, yes you handsome jerk! I was so worried you’d come back engaged to some other woman!” You nearly fall out of your chair when you hug him and he laughs, standing up and easily lifting you with him, spinning you around. 

~θωθ~

 “So, how does it feel to be a prince now?” Your fingers mess with goreum of his white marital jeogori. Changbin smiles.

“It feels better to be your husband.” You nearly whimper, resting your head on his shoulder and he chuckles. You thought he was sweet before, but you’re pretty sure you’ll never want sweets again.

“I love you, so much.” He hugs you, strong arms feeling so comfy around you. Stepping back, your eyes flit over his face and down to where the fabric of his top stretches over his chest. Your fingers go back to the tie, and you pull on it, watching the knot loosen. Biting your lip, he watches with a cocky smirk as you grip the sides of his shirt and pulls them open.

“Oh.” You sigh and he can’t help but grin, looking away and clearing his throat to hide his giggle.

“Every other woman is a fool.” You declare, gently resting your hands on his bare chest. As soon as your skin touches his, you whine, pressing harder, feeling the muscle under his skin. Changbin smiles like an idiot, loving how enthralled you are with him.

“C-can I…?” You have a hard time working up the courage to ask the full question.

“Do whatever you wish, (Y/N)” He kisses your forehead and then his eyes widen, not expecting your next actions. You lean forward, kissing his collarbone, then whimper. You fall to your knees and lick a strip from just above his belly button to as high as you can, right at the base of his sternum. He shivers softly at your actions, fingers weaving into your hair.

“What…are you doing?” He huffs a laugh, bemused and slightly in awe.

“Tasting~” You hum, kissing over his abs, then licking his stomach again. You’ve never acted so boldly before, but he isn’t complaining at all.

“Hm, sounds like fun~” He grins and what he does next makes you squeak. He easily picks you up, nearly slinging you over his shoulder like a sack, carrying you to your bed. You let out a puff of hair when he quite literally drops you onto the bed and he starts to untie the fasten of your sokchima. He gets frustrated quickly with the knot however and just tears it at the seam and yanks it off of you. As he tugs it off, the action flips you over onto your stomach and you barely have time to react before you feel his hands on your hips, his hot breath right against your cunt.

“C-Changbin?” Your breath then leaves you when he swipes his tongue up through your folds, the sudden intense pleasure instantly makes you dizzy. You had never even so much as touched yourself with your fingers, the lack of attention making you extremely sensitive.

“Fuck, you taste so good, princess~” He groans, thumbs spreading your pussy open and he licks up from your clit to your entrance, then shoves his tongue in as deep as he can. All you can get out are gasps, as soon as you can get your breath back, he takes it away again.

“C-Changbin-! S-something feels- weird-“ You heave out and he can feel your gummy walls pulsing around his tongue. The strange sensation kind of scares you, almost feeling like you need to relieve yourself, but feels so much better.

“You’re gonna cum, princess, my princess~” He practically giggles, then sucks at your clit and you nearly scream as your climax hits you. Your fingers dig into the bedding, knuckles going white as your vision does. Your pulse races in your ears and the first thing you can hear when the waves finally die are Changbin’s near-giggles and your heaving breaths.

“Did that feel good, princess~?” He leans over you where you’re still face down on the bed, nearly fully laying on top of you. You whimper when you feel his fully hard cock press against you through his pants.

“T-thought I died…” You huff, then giggle softly when he laughs.

“You taste so fucking good~” He whispers in your ear, and you whimper.

“Please, Changbin…I wanna taste you too.”

“No you don’t-

“What, why not?!” He gets off of you so you can roll over to glare at him.

“I promise I won’t taste nearly as good as you do.”

“How do you know-“ He cuts you off by gently cupping your jaw in his hand, thumb running over your cheek.

“Maybe one day, love, but right now, I need to fully claim you.” His voice lowers to a rough timbre, and you shiver at it.

“Get to the head of the bed.” He tells you and you scooch back to do so, watching intently as his fingers go to the tie of his sokbaji and the white fabric pools at his feet. You’ve never really seen a guy naked, the one time you kinda did, he wasn’t even hard, but…

“That…will it even fit?” You gawk at him, not in horror or disgust, but with genuine awe.

“We’ll make it work~” He smirk smugly, crawling on the bed over you. You huff when he pushes you to lay down then his strong hands go to your thighs, and he leads you to wrap your legs around his waist. You gasp a soft moan as he grinds his cock over your slick folds, a shine transferring to the skin of his cock, and when it slides over your clit, your hips twitch.

“That feel good, princess?”

“Yes~” He slides his cock over you a few more times, then drops your legs, pumping his hand over his cock, enjoying the glide your wet allows.

“Let’s get you ready for me…” He leans down, sealing his lips against yours and you sigh, letting his tongue into your mouth easily. You moan into the kiss when his fingers slide through your folds, then he slowly sinks two of his fingers into you. It stings, but not so bad it hurts, just feels odd. As he slowly moves his fingers, he presses up against your back wall and all of the slight discomfort disappears, replaced with a wave of pleasure.

“A-ah-!” He pulls back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips still and he adds a third finger. His hooded, dark gaze skates all over your face and body, watching your breasts heave with your breath as he fucks you open with his fingers.

“Wait-!” Your back arches, hands flying to grip at his shoulders, blunt nails digging in as his thumb flicks at your clit, the already intense pleasure spiking and you cum again. Changbin chuckles as he feels your tight gummy walls spasm around his fingers, and he helps you ride it out. He finally pulls his hand away from you once you’ve calmed, breath still a bit heavy. You watch with hazy eyes as he brings his wet fingers to hit mouth and obscenely sucks your essence off, groaning as he does it. With his still slick fingers, more from his saliva, he pumps his cock again and lifts your leg with his other hand and brings the head of his dick to your dripping core.

“Changbin~!” You whimper, hands reaching for him. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As he starts to sink his fat cock into you, he lifts your other leg, and you once again wrap them around his waist. He goes slow, the searing heat stinging. He coaches you to breathe through it, and you wince a few times as he gets deeper.

“I-I don’t- I-I can’t-“ You pant out and he shushes you, laying gentle kisses over your face, his thumb going back to your clit. The pleasure of his finger working you eases the pain of him carving into you and you keep breathing. He knows he’s bigger than most, and when he finally bottoms out, he swears he can see a slight bulge in your lower stomach, outlining where his dick sits inside.

“Fuck, that’s hot…” He lets out a breathy chuckle. He feels your nails in his skin ease up and you move to wrap your arms around his neck, leaving behind crescents in his skin, but he by no means minds.

“You’re doing so good for me, (Y/N). You’re taking me so well, love, don’t worry, it’ll feel good soon.” Changbin whispers sweet things to you as your body gets used to him, he uses that as a way to distract him from the hot vice of your core. He’s holding back so much so he doesn’t just plow into you, he doesn’t want- he can’t hurt you. It pains him to see you even a bit uncomfortable, but it’s worse that he’s the cause of it, but he assures you it’ll be worth it.

“Y-you can…move…” You whimper, hips twitching, and only a very slight burn is still present.

“I’ll go slow, my love.” He kisses your cheek, his hand grabbing yours and as he leans down over you, his fingers weave through yours, holding your hands up by your head. You tighten your legs around him and he pulls out slowly, only an inch or two, and it feels like he’s sucking all of your air out of you. Your head swims, but the sharp burn only heats your body further. As he sinks back in, he grinds down into you, your clit brushing against his groin and you let out a sharp whiny moan, fingers in his tightening.

“Does that hurt?”

“N-no-! P-please, keep going~” You whimper, and he smirks, knowing your start to feel good as well. He slowly pulls out again, only a bit further, then sinks back in again, your pussy sucking him in letting out an obscene wet noise.

“You’re so wet~” He chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours, nuzzling. You giggle breathily, then wheeze out another moan as he keeps moving, pace still slow. You appreciate him making sure you’re ready and used to him, but the pleasure is taking over fast, and you need more.

“Changbin, please, more~” You mewl, and his hands tighten their grip on yours.

“I don’t want to hurt-“

“You’re not, you’re not I swear, please, need more-!” You nearly squeal when he picks up the pace, rapidly building. You’re moaning loudly now, not able to hold back, and the wood frame raising the bed up starts to creak. His breathing is heavy over you and he’s grunting with each thrust, the fat head of his cock battering against your cervix over and over. Your cunt is so tight and hot around him, he’s starting to lose control, wanting to fuck you stupid. He originally wanted to make love to you, sweetly, but your tiny squeaks and fucked-out expression is tainting his thoughts. Something about your delirium and whimpers makes him want to ruin you.

Changbin’s fingers weaved through yours leave, and he instead wraps them around your wrists and pins your hands up over your head. He holds them there with one hand, the other going to your left thigh, and you gasp when he moves to hook your knee over his elbow, shifting the position so his cock somehow buries further into you, the fat head pounding your sweet spot.

“A-AH-!” Your entire body jerks and twitches, cunt spasming around him as you cum again, slick spurting out from you and he laughs.

“Fuck, you’re just beautiful (Y/N), so fucking perfect for me~” He lets your wrists go, but you leave them over your head, mind foggy as you let out little whimpers with each of his thrusts. He hooks your other leg over his arm, leaning over you, nearly folding you in half and starts to thrust hard and shallow. You’re air leaves you at the angle change and his hips stutter as your cunt clenches him tight.

“Gonna fuck you full, (Y/N). Gonna breed you, fuck a baby into you~ You want that, yeah~? Wanna have my cum, have my baby~?

“Yes~! Yes~ please, ah-!” Your cunt spasms again and he can’t hold back anymore, getting as deep as he can and pumps your womb full of his cum and the rapid heat searing into you sends you over the edge as well.

As you both come down from your highs, he catches his breath faster than you do. He looks down at you with a soft smile, your eyes closed as your chest heaves, body limp on the bed under him. You hum softly when he leans down and kisses you, then hugs you when he pulls back, rolling over so you’re laying on top of him, his softening cock still sitting inside you. You feel yourself already starting to fall asleep as he rubs your back, kissing the top of your head.

“You were loud, love~” He huffs a laugh, and you hum sleepily.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asks softly and you hum again.

“I wanted to be gentle, but…”

“But?”

“I’ve wanted you since the day we met…so I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

“Can I tell you a secret too?”

“Of course, love~”

“I’ve wanted you that long too.”

hwarang - a group of young noblemen that became somewhat like educated knights in the royal palace from around the 6th century to the 11th. hwarangdo - leaders of groups of nangdo. nangdo - lowest members of the hwarang hierarchy and would form groups led by the hwarangdo. Wonsanghwa - the first officer of the hwarang who is in charge of training in martial arts and combat. sangseon - training offices of the hwarang. gukseon - a chief officer of the hwarang. unni - older sister to a girl. Gongjunim - formal address for a princess. gongju - princess honorific. chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. pong - also known as a bo stick used in martial arts, typically made of wood. shinshi - designation for the ancient Korean hours of the Monkey which is about 3-5 pm. aigo - kind of like an exclamation like "sheesh" or "geez", still used in modern times. goreum - the ties that fasten the top of a hanbok. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok. sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @stresskidz, @rhonnie23

[thevalkyriesshadow]

@aldbooks and @freyjas-musings

I finally finished that fic inspired by y'all

enjoy 😘

Touch

Summary: Azriel takes a bath in a moonlit pool under a gently cascading waterfall. He comes here for the quiet, healing solitude, but tonight, he gets more than he expected.

Read it under the cut or on AO3 💙

The cold waters of the moonlit waterfall cascade over my face, cold rivulets running through my hair. It washes away the dirt and grime of another day. Cleanses me physically and mentally. 

Now that the snows have melted, the sun shines just a bit brighter for a bit longer, and the soil slowly warms – I can come out here without freezing my ass completely off.

My body still reacts. My shoulders tense for a moment, I shiver, just the slightest. The water bites as it tumbles onto my skin, flowing over the smooth rocks. But as time passes I adjust to it, soaking in the natural healing properties.

This is my time to reflect. To unwind.

My marred hands scrub at my skin. Gentle at first, then harder. A stubborn blood stain on my wrist has me rubbing the spot until it's raw and the bite of the pain is almost as refreshing as the water.

There's a snap of a twig and a gasp. I turn on the spot and there, standing amongst the tall grass and the hanging willows is Gwyn.

Her eyes widened, the shining teal of them glittering in the moonlight. Her copper hair shimmers under the gentle ray of light.

She hugs her towel closer to her body, which I'm now just realizing is clad in only a thin, light blue nightgown. The bottom hem barely reaches mid thigh. Her freckled shoulders are on full display.

I've never seen Gwyn like this, casual and exposed.  

I shouldn't be looking. I should tear my eyes from hers, but…

A tinge of red blooms on her face. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes dip down to – 

Gods above.

The water reaches my upper thighs and I'm standing stark naked in it. My half-hard cock waving about just above the water's surface.

I lowered myself slowly, just enough to hide my private bits.

Gwyn watches the movement then takes a step back.

We speak at the same time.

“I'll just –”

“You can stay –” 

She smiles and I clear my throat. When she doesn't speak or move I say, “You can stay, I'll leave.”

“Oh, no, please you were here first,” she says as she takes another step back and I have this urge to ask her to stay with me.

I run my hands through my hair and she watches the movement carefully, following with her wide eyes.

Gwyn always watched me, her eyes lingering as I trained the other priestesses. I didn’t mind of course. I liked her smiles as she watched my shadows move around me. I liked the quips and jokes she made. The way she would tease and banter with me. For almost two years it was just constant watching and teasing. 

She was curious, and so was I. So why not ask her to join?

“You know,” I start. Wading closer to her, stepping out from under the torrent of water. “You could join me….if you'd like?”

Her eyes widened even more, “Join you?” 

“If you want.”

This was silly. She'd never –

Gwyn dropped her towel and fingered the straps of her nightgown. 

Oh shit. She was really going to join me.

My lips pulled into a small smirk and I turned around to give her a moment to get into the water. 

The leaves rustled. The water splashed. 

I glanced back over my wings in time to see her swallowed up by the inky black waters. The moon's reflection shimmered where she disappeared. 

I waited.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Was she okay? My shadows hover above the water. Waiting for her...

I took a step closer to where I’d seen her disappear beneath the water.

“Whatchya looking at, Shadowsinger?” 

I started and she giggled. She’d snuck up on me and I was only now realizing how close she was to me. Leaning over my wings to spook me. I tried not to get her caught up in them as I faced her, but her hair got caught on a talon…

“Oh shit, sorry. Don’t move.” I unhooked the copper strands from the talon, letting them fall from my fingers before giving her a nod and good gods above…

There was goddess beauty and then there was Gwyneth Berdara beauty. 

Truly. 

She looked like a statue of old come to life. So perfect. Carved from ethereal beauty itself. Every freckle stood out against her alabaster skin. Her lithe form looked so natural and comfortable in the water. Almost flowing along with the current, like she was made from water herself. The water had made her long hair stick to her skin. Some of it cascaded over her breasts, covering most of the supple mounds.

And that’s just from ogling her in my peripherals. 

I kept my gaze on her teal eyes that sparkled with curiosity and awe. As much as I wanted to take in every curve and plane of her warrior-honed body, I wanted to keep this as cordial as possible. 

Just two friends bathing under a waterfall in a moonlit pool.

I swallowed, “That was impressive.”

She kept her gaze on mine, her chin rising slightly. Always goading me. “Half-nymph, remember? In fact I could probably still be under the water right now and still not feel the need to come up for another five minutes or so.”

I wanted to run my thumb across her chin, count all those freckles…

Warmth spread across my chest, that spark danced in my chest. 

I couldn’t speak. Everything I wanted to say in response to her posturing was lost on my tongue. All I could do was admire her.

A blush bloomed on her cheeks, down her neck, across her chest the longer I just stood staring at her. My eyes were drawn to her lips as they quirked, holding back a smile. “Did I break the infamous Shadowsinger?”

I blinked. Gods I had just been staring at her. I shot my shadows a look. Why didn’t they snap me out of it? 

As if mocking me they started twirling around Gwyn. They slithered over her shoulders, around her arms. They played in her hair that was dripping from the trickle of the waterfall she stood under.

“Sorry…uh, I was just thinking.”

“About?” She blinked, her smile finally spreading. Meeting her eyes with that glorious spark of joy.

I was thinking about her, but I couldn’t say that . 

“How your ability to hold your breath like that would be very useful against underwater foes. We should start training for underwater combat.” Oh my gods that sounded so much smoother in my head, but instead I just rambled.

Gwyn laughed, the sound playing around the small alcove they stood in. “ That’s what you were thinking about? Truly?”

I nodded.

She narrowed her eyes at me, “Sounds like you’re just trying to fit in another private lesson with me.”

My shadows danced around my wings. I’d love to have another moment of the day where it was just her and I.

“Sounds like you’re trying to avoid it. What’s wrong? Don’t think you can handle underwater combat, Priestess ?”

She crossed her arms, and gods dammit I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting down to note the movement. Her arms covered her nipples, but her breasts pressed together - water pooled in the pocket they made as they pushed against her forearms.

I pulled my gaze back up. Heat sizzled in those pretty teal eyes, a fiery crackle that sent a pang of need right to my cock.

“I can handle underwater combat just fine. In fact, I’ll probably be better at it than you,” she said matter-of-factly. Then she took a step back and another. “Wanna find out?” Her eyebrows wiggled and she took another step back – towards a drop she wasn’t aware of.

I shot out and grabbed her around the waist as her foot met the hidden drop in the dark waters of the pool. I tugged her into my chest. Gwyn’s eyes widened as I pulled her back, a shocking gasp escaping those perfect lips..

Her hands splayed against my chest, fingertips digging into my skin. Once she was righted I pulled my arms back, wholly aware of how close I was holding her. The skin that touched. 

Gwyn didn’t pull away. Didn’t put space between us as the steady beating of my heart – that I could’ve worn rippled through the waters around us – pulsed excitedly. Another pulse echoed in the water, as if in answering. As if I could feel her heartbeat too.

The air was palpable with tension.

The waterfall tumbled around us, its roar blocking out any other sound, her palms still resting flat on my chest. Goosebumps skittered across my skin as she let out a breath. Her chest heaved and we were so close I could just feel her hair and breasts brush against me.

Our gazes met, a question burning there. 

I didn’t care what the question was. My answer was yes.

I dropped my chin in a nod, “Yes,” I whispered, giving her permission to do whatever it is she was asking to do.

Her throat worked as she swallowed. Then her left hand started sliding down my torso, brushing past my ribcage. My stomach clenched as her fingertips danced lower, pressing into my hip and stopping there. Her thumb brushed the muscular vee, electricity sparking with every pass.

Her right hand that had been resting against my chest, moved. Her fingers traced the pattern of my tattoos, following them completely. Across my pectorals, over my shoulders and collar bone then down my sternum. 

I let out a breath at the sensation and Gwyn smiled, but didn’t say anything as she continued her exploration.

She spent a lot of time tracing the grooves between the muscles of my stomach. Over and over, my muscles spasming with each pass. I was beginning to think she enjoyed watching me squirm and honestly, I was very into it.

If she explored any lower, she’d see just how much I was enjoying it.

Oh shit. You’re hard as a rock . And she’s about to unknowingly discover this. Her fingers dipped into the pool, but before she could find my throbbing cock, I grabbed her wrist. “Wait,” I said. “I’m -- uh -- .” I cleared my throat "--hard--"

She giggled, “I wondered.”

I gaped at her. Always surprising me this one. I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped my lips, the rumble of it settling low in my chest. That spark expanded, vibrating ferociously. 

As much as I wanted those beautifully long, freckled fingers around my cock. I wanted more of that delicious touch. The way she caressed every inch of me with precision. I wanted to feel that everywhere. I wanted her to be comfortable with every part of me. Not just with the way we talk and banter. Not just with the way we spar and fight side by side. I wanted her to know that she could come to me and feel safe. Home.

I guided her hand to my neck. “I want you to touch the rest of me first. Please.”

The stunningly gorgeous and incredibly adorable Priestess in front of me smirked, in the most devilish way. Heat bloomed from the base of my spine, and at the same time in my chest – that spark spread. It followed her touch everywhere she went. Moving through my veins, muscles, organs…everything down to my very soul moved with her touch. Like two voices falling into harmony with one another. 

Gwyn watched the goosebumps form across my skin everywhere her fingers touch. Along the sinewy muscle of my neck, across the dips of my shoulders, the planes of my back, along my hips…everything was on fire stoked by her touch, kindled by her curiosity. 

I balled my hands into fists, the moment too much yet not enough. Her hands were around mine in an instant, raising them up between us. Her eyes flicked between the scarred knuckles and my burning eyes. My breathing was shallow, anticipating her next move. Would she touch them? Would she drop them to the side and forget about them? 

“I’d like to touch your hands, Azriel. Is that okay?”

My chest cracked wide open. An all consuming light pouring out. “Yes,” I breathe.

She let go of my left hand, but held onto my right wrist. Holding gently, turning it in her hand. I unfurled my fingers and her touch found my skin instantly. She smoothed her hand over mine, opening until my palm was flat. Then she traced my scars. 

With painstakingly slow precision. As if she were memorizing every puckered line. 

When she finished her slow exploration of both hands, she pressed her palms to mine, chuckled to herself, then laced our fingers together.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

She shrugged, “Just thinking about how you think I’m the one who needs underwater training, when you haven’t even proven to me that you’re a worthy teacher of such combat.”

I squeeze her fingers, “Are you going to teach me , Priestess?”

Gwyn narrowed those sparkling ocean eyes, the light in my chest pulsing at her gaze, “I should. It makes the most sense.”

Our gazes locked for a long moment. Studying, exploring. Then without warning, Gwyn hooked a foot around the back of my knee and yanked me down, her grip on my hands forcing me under the water. I took one last gulp before she plunged me under. She had a quick foot on my chest in an instant. I’d be dead in minutes, especially with her weight above me like this.

Thankfully she didn’t want to kill me. Just show me up. Though my chest was maybe starting to burn. Just a tinge. And of course my fucked up ass was thrilled by it.

Her foot lifted off my chest and she was tugging me out of the water. I spluttered as I met fresh air, blinking my eyes furiously up at her. 

Her smile was radiant as she chuckled, “Alright there, Shadowsinger?”

I wiped my face and lounged back in the water, floating just beneath the surface. It wasn’t deep. Maybe about four or five feet, but it was plenty of room for my wings to just graze the floor of the pool.

“You tell me. You’re the one training to be a healer.” Another thing I was so proud of her for pursuing. “My knee kind of hurts after you expertly hooked it around my leg to disarm me. I think you should check it out.” I raised my foot above the water, my chest filling with joy at her bright smile. Her head fell back as she let out a barking laugh. It pulled her hair back, exposing her breasts fully and by the gods old and young –

They were so fucking perfect. Supple mounds that glowed in the moonlight. Her dusky nipples peaked against the cool spring air. 

Fuck. My chest was pounding with emotions. With an intense feeling that I couldn’t place. It grew and grew with her smiles. Her laughter. The way we talked. Her body. Her Mother blessed existence.

Gwyn dove into the water, her chest gliding along the surface as she executed a perfect breaststroke until she was wading next to me. She was so at ease. So calm as she took my leg in her hand, examining it with an exaggerated studying gaze.

Then she looked at me with those wide, stunning eyes – the teal of them swimming with mirth as she said, “I’m happy to report that your leg will be just fine, Shadowsinger. Not a scratch on it.” She lowered my leg back into the pool, her breathy laughter tittering away. My shadows were having the time of their lives. Dashing in and out of her movements. Dancing with every sound that fell from her lips.

We waded further behind the waterfall where it was quieter. I could hear her breaths, the tinkling of the water as she moved about. I watched her twirl and wash at her skin, humming a gentle tune.

I must’ve looked ridiculous. Floating in the water staring at her with awe. But…how could I not? Just look at her. 

I recalled the first day of training. How she kept her distance, but stared at me from across the training ring.

And now?

Now she was shamelessly standing five feet away from me in the waist deep water. Washing her hair back under the waterfall. Breasts peaked up to the sky.

I wondered if she would let me touch her? If I could explore her body too…

I joined her under the waterfall. Rinsing my hair under the waters. She smiled and her gaze landed on my wings as I shook them against the water free falling behind me.

“So…did something happen to your shower back at The House that you had to come all the way out here?” She asks. Her head tilts as her eyes gleam with amusement. Her perfect, pink lips curl on one side.

I huff a laugh, “Did something happen to yours?”

Her grin widens, “No. I was feeling… adventurous.” She tugs at her hair and it takes all my willpower not to glance down at her exposed breasts. 

By The Mother she was being bold tonight.

“Is that so?” I ask, taking a step towards her. The moonlight makes her skin glow, her freckles like molten stars in the darkness.

Fuck. Gwyn is… beautiful.  

She nods and gives a cheery hum in confirmation. “Checking off another thing on my must-do list.”

I raise a brow, “Must-do list?”

“Yeah – it’s a list of things I must do now that I’m –” She pauses, searching for the right word.

“A Valkyrie?”

She purses her lips, “Hm, no –”

“A Carynthian –”

“No –”

“Older?” She had a birthday at the beginning of the year. One where I watched her get drunk off faerie wine and giggle uncontrollably all night.

She gave me a small push, her fingers digging into the muscled skin on my chest. “No! Would you let me finish!” I chuckled and swept my arms out, giving her the floor. My shadows swirled excitedly around her, settling on her shoulders.

She watched them and gave them one of those breathy giggles that made my lips form a dim witted smile before she looked back at me. They sparkled as they met mine, a certain gleam of trustworthiness in them. “It’s a list of things I want to do now that I’m not living in The Library anymore.”

“Ah – “

There’s a moment of pause between us. Not weird or awkward, just a moment where we’re both considering what that means. I know she worked hard to overcome many obstacles. I was proud of her for it. For facing the mountain -- the physical, emotional, and spiritual ones. For facing her fears and worries and doubts.

I supported her then and I’d support her now. 

“So number one on your list was bathe in a waterfall?”

She shrugs, “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“The item was more about swimming naked in a body of water, but this counts…right?” She glances around the dark pool then looks back to me.

“Sure. I mean, just do a lap to the edge of the pool and back and voila, item crossed off. Officially.”

Gwyn gives me a smirk. A smirk I know all too well. It’s one of those shit eating grins she gives before she says –

“I bet I can beat you.”

I return the sly smile. “Name your price, Berdara.”

She crosses her arms and raises her chin at me. “If I win, you have to help me cross off another item on my list.”

“And that would be…?”

“A secret," the words are final. "Your terms?”

I narrow my eyes at her and say, “Fine. If I win – you have to help me cross off one of my own personal list items.”

“ You have a list?”

“Absolutely I do.”

She regards me with curiosity then holds out a hand, “Deal.” We shake, my shadows shiver with excitement, and then we’re getting in position and my heart pounds in my chest. I have one item on my list that this exact moment in time sets everything up perfectly for. Though, with the way she held her breath underwater, I don’t think I’ll win, but…

“On my mark,” Gwyn says. I ready myself, listening to her countdown “….three…two…one… go!”

I dive into the water, her splash echoing mine. I’m vaguely aware of her presence in the water next to me, but I’m focused on my destination and the end goal to pay attention to where in the water she is.

I touch the dirt slope on the opposite of the pool and turn around in the water. My wings definitely make traveling in water difficult, but I pull them in closer and push harder.

When I resurface on the other side, I’m met by muscle carved thighs and a soaked Gwyn, smiling devilishly down at me.

“Looks like I won, Shadowsinger. Guess the item on your list is going to have to wait.”

I smooth my hair out of my face and wipe the water from my face. “As if there were any chance in hell I’d win against a water-nymph.” She grins broadly. “Alright then, Berdara. What item do you need help with?”

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, blushing suddenly. Her boasting demeanor turned shy. Gwyn takes another step closer to me and she takes one of my hands in hers. Her thumb brushes against mine, sending shivers up my arm.

“You can absolutely say no, but…” She glances down at our joined hands, then looks up. Her gaze falls to my lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Words escape me as I process her words. Gwyneth Berdara wants to kiss me?

“Does your list item specifically say ‘Kiss the spay master of the Night Court’?” I almost don’t believe her request.

She blushes deeper, “If you must know it says kiss the Shadowsinger, but –”

“Yes,” My answer leaves my lips before I can stop it. Gwyn sucks a breath in, her eyes widening as if she doesn’t believe my answer. But then she’s raising up on her toes. Her grip on my hand tightens and she’s inching closer and closer –

She lets out a high-pitched squeak as her foot slips on the mossy stones beneath us and she falls into me, our mouths crashing together.

It’s messy and a little painful as her nose clashes with mine, and she maybe scrambles trying to salvage the moment. And since I was asked to help her check off another item, it’s exactly what I do.

My hands go to her waist and I pull her against me. Steadying her. For a moment our mouths only hover a hair's breadth away. Our smiles and breathy laughs are smothered a moment later as she finds her balance and presses her lips to mine.

Gwyn is tentative and stiff. Like she’s unsure how far to take it. So I let her know by softening my lips, parting them so my breath skitters over her mouth. Her body softens in my hands, her lips following.

Then her mouth is moving against mine and gods.

I don’t know if she’s ever kissed anyone before. By the way she presses and adjusts her lips against mine, I don’t think she has, but I don’t fucking care. 

Because every moment of it. From the way her lips explored mine. Kissing my top lip. Then my bottom. The way she tilts her head one way then the other. Every moment has my pulse racing. My body trembling.

I’m only vaguely aware of the curves of her body against the planes of mine. The way her hands have found their way around my neck and are nervously tangling themselves in my hair. Every nerve in my body is flooded with the feeling of her lips on mine. 

I move with her. My mouth opening and closing with hers. I let her control every movement. The speed. The pressure – and when her tongue darts out curiously, I let her in. 

She’s gentle and unsure but I don’t care. 

Gwyn could kiss me with the same clumsy inexperience every time and I’d welcome it. I let myself hope that maybe this wouldn’t be my first kiss with her. Maybe she’d want to do this with me all the time. Maybe this could be the flood gates that open to a whole new possibility. For both of us.

Something in my chest pulses at the idea just as the warmth of her mouth leaves mine and I let out a shaky breath.

Gwyn’s face and neck are flushed, her eyes darting between mine. Then she smiles and giggles, “Oh gods that was awful wasn’t it?” Her nose scrunches, her freckles crinkling with the movement.

I’m still trying to catch my breath and then she sends me that smile with her addictive laughter and I can’t help myself. She gasps as I lean in and our lips brush as I whisper, “By how much I want to do it again, I’d say it was far from awful.” Messy and unpractised? Sure. Awful? Never.

“Do you want to know what my item was that I wanted to enlist in your help with?”

Her nails scratch my scalp as her hips press into mine and if she’s aware of my hard cock pressing against her thigh she doesn’t say anything. “Yes,” she breathes.

I swallow the nerves that are suddenly fluttering around in my stomach, rising to my chest where they flit around that spark that grows brighter. “It was to kiss someone under a waterfall.”

She smiles against my lips and says, “No it was not.”  

I can’t stop the smile that blooms across my mouth, “Really.”

She hums then says, “Well…that kiss was for my list so…”

“But I didn’t win.”

“I mean if you don’t want to then fine,” she shoots back playfully.

My heart is pounding and all I can hear is the roar of my blood in my ears. “Gwyn? Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” She says it without hesitation and this time I take over.

It’s soft and gentle, exploring her like she explored me. Her lips are so fucking soft and full. I can’t get enough. I deepen the kiss and she moans , her lips parting. I run my tongue along the seam of her lips and through the kiss she hums enthusiastically, opening wider for me and I plunge in. Showing her exactly what to do with your tongue inside someone’s mouth.

I keep my hands firmly on her hips despite the way they itch to feel her all over. What would her kisses be like when I have my hands twisted in her hair? Or when I’m groping her ass and thighs? What about when my fingers are caressing the freckles scattered across her back? Will she shiver and moan uncontrollably? Will she whine or hum?

I’m lost in her instantly. My first taste of Gwyneth Berdara and I’m a fucking goner. I’m ready to kneel for this woman until the end of time. Until our existences cease to end and we’re nothing but stardust floating through endless time and space together.

When we separate, it’s to the sounds of both of us panting, our shaking breaths mixing together in the small space between our hovering mouths.

“Does that satisfy your must-do item?” I ask her.

She answers breathlessly, “Yes. And yours?” I nod. Unable to speak. “Good,” her voice has a silky tone to it, huskier. She grins wildly and asks, “Wanna do it again?”

I chuckle. The boldness of this female…

“Absolutely I do.”

Her body curls into mine, my arms wrap around her, hugging her tightly to me as our lips meet for a third time.

I wondered if Gwyn would want to add waterfall showers to our midnight rendezvous...

I store that question away for later and focus solely on the moment, committing every touch, taste, and sound of kissing Gwyneth Berdara to memory.

[brightvelvet]

Does anyone else imagine scenarios where Sauron had been able to infiltrate Eregion successfully? I'm watching S1E8 of Rings of Power and it's all I can think about. Halbrand has always been a subdued character, wary and introverted, and yet his arrival in Celebrimbor's city spells a complete 180 in personality. He's not hiding anymore. His gait changes, his accent comes through more as his voice grows demanding, and he isn't waiting for others to come to him. He hunts Galadriel down twice to where she hides from him (however unintentionally), and their dynamic is new and unsettling. It's throwing Galadriel off too, which makes sense since we as viewers see from her persepective. All this to say, why reveal himself now, so close to the end?

What does he stand to gain from burning the "gifts" he had so generously given Galadriel? To ruin Halbrand's face, to leave her last memory of a friend who had seemingly understood her plight in ruins as he digs through her mind. Is he panicking and reacting to a situation he wasn't prepared for? Playing tough? When Galadriel confronts him, he doesn't back down. Even as her facial expression sinks into something devasted, he keeps pushing. The pieces of his facade have been rapidly falling for a while now so it can't have been a total surprise. If you consider him revealing the truth as an act of respect or care for Galadriel, it doesn't fit with the sheer disrespect he shows in using the memory of her brother. He knew he would be found out, I think he even knew it would be Galadriel given his subtle threat in the courtyard. And yet despite anticipating, he doesn't lift a finger to hide evidence or argue for himself. There's just so many possibilities for Sauron's motives and not enough screentime to narrow them down.

If, IF, Sauron had decide to hide a little longer, had decided to manipulate Celebrimbor into making the rings from the shadows, had asked permission to see documentation of his family history and tampered with the evidence, who would have stopped him? Sauron wanted to hurt her and I want to know why. A tactic to weaken her mind? It makes me wonder if there was any kind of genuine goodwill between the two or if was just a kind of fascinated recognition of vulnerability from his side. An ego boost and new servant. But still, no way he could have expected his mind games to work. I once again circle to the thought that maybe he panicked and made a shit argument.

My final thoughts are: I think emotion over logic was the root cause for Sauron's reveal and attack on Galadriel. Whether that emotion was impatience or fear, I have no idea. Had Sauron stayed undetected, I wonder how he would have approached converting Galadriel.

[pain-is-too-tired]

Thinking about the fact that Luke was Hermes favorite.

That even with everything he did and the fact he hated his father, he was still Hermes pride and joy.

That instead of immediately trying to make sure what happened to Luke didn't happen to his other children, he was so attached to righting the wrong to Luke that he neglected them.

Thinking about the fact that he didn't even acknowledge them on Olympus in TLO. Not just the Stolls, but all of them(except Chris for obvious reasons-) were up there.

I wished we gotten to see him actually change in some way after Luke's death.

I remember there's one story where he gives the Stolls tongs(?) for something. And of course we know he at least had given info about one of his kids to bring to camp after the meeting in tlo(which- haven't heard it mentioned but do ya'll think that was for Cecil? Or I'm just looking to deep into it hegd)

But yeah. There's just not much evidence he's change. Honestly with how he's presented somewhat in ToA it doesn't feel like he truly has.

I 100% think lot of his other kids were aware that Luke was the favorite too, and are still bitter in some way over it.

The Stolls had to pick up as leaders at like 12-13 years old,maybe 13-14. They had to lead the biggest cabin why struggling with being in the shadow Luke left behind.

Chris wasn't claimed for years, it took him being in the worst state of his life, to have been inches away from deaths door, for Hermes to claim him.

How many others in that cabin were unclaimed by Hermes?

How many in that cabin died in the war before they were ever claimed? How many shrouds did the Stolls have to burn?

Hermes and Luke have a similar problem, tunnel vision.

Be so obsessed with one aspect, one thing in your past, whether how you were wronged or how you wronged others, that you ignore everything else around you.

Luke was so obsessed with getting revenge on Hermes and the gods that he ignore the suffering of the demigods under him.

Hermes was so obsessed with trying to make up for falling Luke and May that he neglected his other children.

Think it's something I especially love to play around with for Chris, as he was smack dab in the middle of both of those.

He was abandoned in the Labyrinth after going in for Luke. Likely wanting to prove himself more to him. And it left him in such a broken state that if Mr.D had been anymore late, he's likely wouldn't starved/dehydrated himself to death.

He had been in the Hermes cabin unclaimed likely for years, only getting claimed after or during the worst time of his life? And likely never hearing anything else from Hermes after.

I wished we gotten more with them then just.. him sending tongs???

Honestly, love the fun idea of both Apollo and Hermes being turn human in ToA. Hermes interacting with Connor. Hermes having a heart to heart with Chris at some point, realizing that Chris couldn't died never knowing he was his son. We could've got more about Stolls mother(I mean he went to her twice. That's huge), about Chris'.

Heck, where is Chris' mother. Cause she's either dead, thinks Chris is dead, or doesn't care. Cause he's gone for years. I have a feeling the Titan Army didn't really care if you went him to your mortal family or not. Considering how they treat mortals.

Ntm he's gone for over a year due to the Labyrinth and his insanity.

Would been so intriguing to learn about her and the Stolls mother like we learned a bit about Will, Austin and Kayla's parents.

Anyway dbdh sorry for ramble just...man.

Think it definitely sticks in their mind that Luke was the favorite, dispite the grief he put them through. Stolls and/or Chris being bitter over that just had my brain rn dhdb

[islandtarochips]

Shadow Company OC #2

Talofa everyone! I proudly would like to share another masterpiece that I got from @temeyes! Another Art Commission that I have requested from her! But before I showed this to you. I know most of you already know that OCs aren't Canon Characters. Even When making an OC that is like CHILDREN for the Canon Characters. Which it's FINE! And awesome too! Love those kinds of OCs that are connected with the Canons.

But this one is a bit different for me. Because the OC that I'm going to show you is actually related to the Canon who is like BLOOD SIBLING likes. And I gotta tell you. There are some online 'friends' that I've made a long time ago (I cut them off since they were complaining too much about how I made my OCs). That they were not very thrilled with how I made my OCs who are BLOOD RELATED to the family, like being siblings or cousins. Instead of putting my OCs as being the future CHILDREN. It kinda really put me down that I started to erase those OCs and just never mention them again.

It kinda hurts me sometimes and it's hard for me to make some OCs again. But after a few years, my OTHER good online friend, which is @forestgreenbunny, showed me the COD MW2. I have been so obsessed with it that I started to make OCs from it. And when I saw Graves on screen and watched him how he acted in every single scene. I just started to have an idea of giving him a sibling. The one who he will spoil rotten with! But…it started to taunt me again about my past experience showing someone my ideas. Except Bunny here had always shared me with their OCs so I thought that I could show her mine. And she had made me happy about it because she likes the ideas of having the OCs actually related to the Canon characters. Just need to make sure to let everyone know about it.

So...if you guys are interested. Here is my Shadow Company OC! Everyone! I would like for you to meet Graves's Sister!

Lieutenant Callie "Snipe" Graves!

One of the members of the Shadow Company and also Commander Graves's sister!

Before I continue on with this. How old do you guys think she is huh? Lol.

Anyway, Callie has the same personality as her older brother and she always admired him the most. From her childhood, she always looked up to him and wanted to be like him as well. She also saw him as their father's favorite. She doesn't pay much attention to it as she was focusing on being just like Phillip.

She had also wanted her father's attention but didn't get any for some reason. It upsets her most of the time but she forgets about it when Phillip came in and gave HIS attention to her instead. She loved her older brother and would follow him all the way till the end.

So she went with him to join the Marines Corps and later on joined in the Shadow Company. You could imagine that Phillip and Callie are like the most obnoxious duo in this world. Cocky enough to now care for ANYTHING or ANYONE. And will always get the things that they wanted.

You can say that Phillip's attitude had really become bad intentions for Callie. But she doesn't care. As long as she stays with her brother. Everything will be hell of a life! So thank you guys for reading this far! And want to let everyone know that Tim here is still open for Commission! So if you're interested, take a look through here to see the price of it! And give her your GREAT support! Love ya, peles! 😘❤️

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[manic-sapphic]

crimson waste catra ranting~

it's ironic, cause w the backdrop of a lifeless desert wasteland, every moment of the super pal duo out there gives me so much damn life. hp restored in full every time.

catra and scorpia, desert beauty queens in less than a mf'ing day, just casually ruling the place.

they party for the first time in their lives - catra is actually letting herself laugh about shit and has been all damn day - pretty sure she laughs more that one episode than prob like, the whole series at that point. after the sword 1/2 i feel like it doesn't get heard much.

they kick ass across the desert, and yeah, a grip of catra's laughter was done while leaving a trail of mf'ers in need of medical attention you know they def don't have in the crimson waste ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

aw but poor scorpia :/ (i maintain she and catra both ended up w who they shoulda)

but it's still sad to see her get the closest she's ever gotten to breaking down catra's walls only to have it last 2.5 seconds before they're reinforced to the max. cause scorpia def was down to hang out as a desert duo and yeet any lil moron catra points at so far into the horizon, even if they survived the impact, there's no way they coulda possibly had enough water on em to make the walk back.

--but before any of that, i think it's catra's initial reaction to finding out the crimson waste isn't uninhabited after all -- so much about catra's lil monologue in the desert shanty-tavern kinda floors me.

it seems like catra doesn't care anymore if she lives or dies - part of her speech in the tavern is just a cautionary: "i'm down to go full-tilt savage, claws out, with 0 regard for how it turns out. i'm up for the coin flip so if you're gonna come at me, you better be too"

and her behavior after that point seems to reflect that as well. but what i find to be pretty heartbreaking about it is probably that it takes being at her wit's end, feeling so worthless and existence so pointless- it's not until her life feels irrelevant to her that she can let go and kinda enjoy herself. but ultimately, she'd rather let go for good; catra would rather dissolve into the void than make any attempt to return to her real life.

and in the waste, as she warns everyone in the tavern not to fck w her, there are these brief sentiments she actually allows herself to express aloud - prob cause it's a room full of strangers she never expects to see again - of vulnerability interwoven throughout her threats of hostility (even if they're expressed in an aggressive tone)

she warns everyone against tryna mess w her, yeah. but it still kinda gets to me that, however vaguely, she even tells them why.

cause catra didn't do that. not anymore.

and ps i dunno if it's just me, but i'd imagine after how much time had passed since shadow weaver used catra to escape-

hearing "shadow weaver is in bright moon" probably hit different than if she heard "shadow weaver came to bright moon" or "was in bright moon" ... i'd figure knowing adora was fine with sw sticking around, prisoner or not, might get under catra's skin a lil extra at the time.

[11queensupreme11]

Aside from Poseidon since he only has sons, would any of the yan dads be chill with their daughters befriending the opposite sex? 😭

lmao

loki: he would be perfectly fine with it! he genuinely doesn't care lmao. his daughters wanna befriend a dude? okay! she wants to fuck him??? okay! premarital sex??? whatever! loki is pretty much the one dad who gives his kids, regardless of gender, absolute freedom to live their life!

beelzebub: it depends if he finds the man worthy of friendship. if he finds him dissatisfactory (like maybe he's too annoying, dumb, or if beel just doesn't like for whatever reason), then it's a big no. similarly to loki, he doesn't care if this friendship blossoms into something more (he's literally the devil, premarital sex means nothing to him lmao), all he cares about is if the dude is tolerable.

hades: this dude rarely lets his daughters out of the palace and he ALWAYS keeps them close by, so how the fuck did some BOY get close enough to his girls without him knowing? 🤨 it's a big fat no regardless. he doesn't trust boys, he doesn't want them anywhere NEAR his daughters.

apollo: he screams in horror when he finds out. he would absolutely beg, on his hands and knees with tears streaming down his face and all, for his daughter to stay away from the boy 😭😭😭 and when that doesn't work, fast-forward to several minutes later and he's stalking them in the shadows to make sure the kid doesn't do anything inappropriate to his baby girl 💀💀💀

anubis: "NO! NO! NO! NO!" he screams repeatedly, snarling like a dog ready to pounce. he doesn't want some ugly little brat sniffing around near his precious daughters! friendship? yeah right the perv's probably trying to sneak into his daughter's skirt!

cú chulainn: that boy will be dead the second he finds out 💀 like no kidding, it's just INSTANT death 😭😭 he doesn't even KNOW how a friendship could even happen since he literally locks his 100 daughters up in the palace and whenever they go out, he's constantly hovering over them 😭😭😭

[aventurineswife]

Any other Shadow varient you are particularly fond of or just is fun to play around with the setting? Seems like she could fit into a lot of different things really seamlessly.

Also! Any funny pictures/memes or quotes you'd associate with her, maybe ones she'd even do/post herself

(I know nothing about Shadow but I am loving every crumb of lore I am bestowed with)

Well, there's genshin Shadow, Obey Me Shadow, then another au where she doesn't have trauma lmaoo and yes I agree!! 🤭

Oh, I have plenty of them(mostly HSR) hehe!

This is the closest photo I could find of Shadow:

I had fanarts that my old friend made of her and his oc together but I ran out of photo limits dammit...

She's a very complicated oc ahahaha... Don't know what I was cooking 🧍‍♀️

I'm so glad you're loving her so far hehe!! 🤭💖

[yandere-paramour]

What about them with a darling who is a good researcher?, like anytime one of them mentions something darling is already Googling and looking at multiple articles just cause they LOVE LOVE information but they never get to add anything to the conversation because by the time they've finished scoring an answer or something the convo has moved on from the thing darling researched so now they are just stuck with so many facts lol.

How would the yanderes utilise this skill? Idk I like to think that atalanta and Darling are working together after the trust is there or atas darling is doing her own thing. I hate to see her just be atas shadow.

Darling might be Ata's precious, lovely spouse, but she is in no way Ata's shadow. It's actually a Montclair tradition that, once a new person enters the family, they are supposed to use Montclair money to create something in the city. When Jamie entered the family, he was hesitant, but he started a ballet studio for the children of the city (at least I think that's what it was, I can't remember). Darling will be encouraged to have her own life as long as it is with Atalanta. Darling can start a business, work with charities, take classes, anything she wants to do. With Atalanta Montclair's connections, you can get an exceptional education and become a professor or maybe even a researcher and dedicate yourself to knowledge. The world is your oyster as long as you come home to sleep next to your lovely wife at night.

Online school is really big these days. Noelle's Darling would absolutely be encouraged to go. You don't even have to be working towards a degree if you want, Noelle will pay for as many classes as you want. She loves to see you working and learning and growing as a person. She loves seeing you happy. Once things calm down and she knows you're loyal and yearning to go outside a bit more often, she'll have the bodyguard take you for short outings outside. Maybe you can even take a creative writing class and be an author! You certainly have enough time and she would love to read your work.

Vivien is constantly in awe of you. He doesn't think he's smart at all, but he thinks you're a genius. He appreciates every little fact you choose to share with him and if he knows you would like it, he could share his own facts back to you. He knows quite a bit about chemistry techniques for his little business, along with his extensive knowledge about plants and botany. You both will bond on fact after fact, falling more and more in love as you inform him that cats don't have collarbones and he responds that mushrooms are more genetically similar to animals than plants.