#and he threw it out the window wordlessly

[syrenki]

i keep telling myself awful things about it, like he'll drop you forever now because you chickened out i feel like he hates me for it

[0omillo0]

BIKER LEE KNOW

x reader <3 angst —> comfort/happy ending

everyone warned you about him, how he plays with girls and then leaves… you don’t believe them, until…

The clock ticked quietly in your room, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. Rain pattered steadily against your window, mimicking the slow tears that streaked down your face. You clutched your phone tightly in your hands, scrolling through old messages, trying to reconcile the sweet, caring Minho you’d been dating with the cold, distant person he’d become over the past week.

You couldn’t help but smile as you thought of the day he took you to the diner on his motorcycle. The ride had been exhilarating, the city’s lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color as you held tightly to him, feeling the comforting warmth of his back against your chest.

When you reached the diner, Minho had insisted on ordering three servings of pudding.

“You’re unbelievable,” you teased, watching as he tucked into the first one with childlike enthusiasm.

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned closer, spoon in hand, and offered you a bite. “C’mon, taste perfection.”

The way he watched you eat—like you were the most fascinating person in the world—made your heart flutter. Afterward, he’d noticed your hair was windblown from the ride and gently brushed it back into place.

“These moments… they make me feel alive,” he murmured, almost to himself…

But that Minho had vanished. It started with him being quieter during your calls, then came the short, clipped replies to your texts, and eventually, nothing at all.

You (Monday, 7:12 PM): Hey, how are you? Did you make it home safe last night?

My Mimo💕🏍️ (Monday, 9:45 PM): Yeah.

You (Tuesday, 4:30 PM): I was thinking about getting tickets for that movie you mentioned! What do you think?

(Seen, no reply)

You (Wednesday, 10:15 AM): Are you okay? I feel like you’re being distant. Did I do something wrong?

(No reply)

You’d tried giving him space, telling yourself he might be busy or overwhelmed. But by Friday night, the ache in your chest was unbearable. The rumors—about him being a heartbreaker, about him getting bored and leaving without a word—crept into your thoughts like poison.

“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, the tears coming faster now. You curled up in bed, clutching your knees to your chest. “Maybe I was just another distraction for him.”

….

It was a saturday night, the knock on your door was loud, urgent, and startling. You glanced at the clock, 11:47 PM, and hesitated. The rain was heavier now, and the thunder growled low in the distance. You wiped at your eyes, your heart pounding. Who could it be at this hour?

You opened the door cautiously and froze.

Minho stood there, drenched from head to toe. His motorcycle helmet was tucked under one arm, his leather jacket soaked through, and rain dripped from his dark bangs onto his flushed face. He looked… disheveled. Vulnerable.

“Minho?” you managed, your voice shaky.

His eyes softened the moment they met yours. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and rough, almost drowned out by the rain.

You blinked, torn between anger, confusion, and a flicker of hope. Your teary eyes must have been obvious because his expression shifted to one of guilt.

You stepped aside wordlessly, letting him in.

Inside, Minho stood awkwardly near the couch, his shoulders tense. He looked around your apartment like it was unfamiliar territory, though he’d been here many times before. You crossed your arms, watching him carefully.

“You’re soaking wet,” you said flatly, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel. You threw it at him without ceremony.

He caught it, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “Thanks.”

You stayed standing, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he just dried his hair in silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Why are you here, Minho?” you finally asked, your voice trembling.

He stopped mid-motion, the towel hanging limply in his hands. “I owe you an explanation.”

“You think?” you snapped, the bottled-up pain of the past week bursting out. “Do you have any idea how hurt I’ve been? You disappeared without a word! And after everything people said about you… I didn’t want to believe it, but—”

“Stop,” he said, his voice cracking. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But it’s not what you think.”

“Then explain,” you challenged, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

He took a shaky breath and sank onto the couch, running a hand through his damp hair. “I didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling,” he admitted. “I thought if I put some distance between us, I could figure it out. But all I did was screw everything up.”

“Figure out what?”

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.

Your breath caught, and you took a step back, your mind racing. “You… what?”

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, his voice firmer now. “I’ve never felt this way before, and it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t think I deserved you, and I didn’t want to risk messing things up. But pushing you away was the worst thing I could’ve done.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your ears. Tears welled up again, but this time they weren’t from pain. “Minho, you really hurt me,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he said, standing up and taking a tentative step toward you. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”

You hesitated, your emotions warring inside you. But the look in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity—broke down your walls.

Slowly, you closed the distance between you, reaching out to touch his face. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I know,” he said with a soft smile, his hand coming up to gently wipe the tear away.

And then you kissed him.

It was slow at first, hesitant, but then the dam broke. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, as if he was afraid you might vanish. The kiss deepened, raw and desperate, a mix of apology and promise.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face.

“Does this mean I still have a chance?” he asked softly, his lips quirking into a hopeful smile.

You laughed through your tears. “You’re lucky I love you too, Minho.”

His grin widened, and he kissed you again, this time softer but no less passionate.

That night, as the rain poured outside, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past week washed away. And for the first time in days, you felt whole again.

tags: @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[milliumizoomi]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

☆彡SUMMARY.; What better time to smoke with each other than at night. Armando thinks there’s a better way to do it too..

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO x READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; DRABBLE

☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF + SEMI SMUT (mdni)

☆彡WARNINGS.; Mature Language, Mature Actions, usage of weed + usage of drugs.

☆彡NOTES.; in light of the information I just found out yesterday (apparently Jacob smokes🥹) I had to write something to ease my mind thats running a mile a minute,, I hope yall enjoyyyy😋💕.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED😙.

The space of your room was now becoming dizzying to you.

All the lights were off and the windows and curtains were closed. The current sore of light that was illuminating your room was the TV, that was playing lowly in the background. The scent of weed was swirling all around your room, making your body feel lighter than it actually was. “Mama.. Enciende esto para mí...”

You look down at the man under you, his eyes are low and red. He holding a cigar in his hand, and the other is gently rubbing up and down your back, down to your ass. You grab the lighter that was right beside the both of you on the bed and lean down to light it for him. He watches your movements.

He feels so good right now.

With you in on top of him, and him watching as you leaned your body over to light the cigar for him.

He was more focused on you than anything else, and his whole body felt like it was on fire and like he’s was being hosed down at the same time.

What the fuck was he even smoking right now.

Finally, after what felt like years, you managed to light the damn thing then plucked it from in between his lips, putting it to you’re and taking a deep inhale.

With you being on top of him, and also high out of your mind, you were giggling and shuffling a lot, and with his heightened feelings of pleasure right now, he felt every slide and shuffle you did on his lap,

“Maldita sea, mamá, no hagas eso.” He grabbed your waist steadying you.

You looked down at him and smiled, eyes red from the weed.

“Do what baby? I’m not doing anything..”

You grinded down on him deliberately this time while looking into his eyes, watching as he fluttered them closed then threw his head back, trying to hold back his groans.

You continued doing this until you got tired, and the man under you was breathing so heavy he sounded like he’d need an oxygen mask by the time he fell asleep.

“Shit mama you feel so good..”

You smiled at him for the compliment. “Thanks baby..” you said lowly.

He began to sit up, holding you on his lap in the same position and took the cigar from you and placing it between his lips. You looked up at him as he finally sat up and he looked at you wordlessly, taking a smooth swig of the cigar. He taps your cheek and you immediately understand what it is he wants and you lean closer to his face while opening your mouth.

He pulled you even closer by your neck and blew the smoke into your mouth, then kissed you afterwards. You held your breath, letting the smoke circulate inside your chest and when you broke apart from the kiss, you blew the smoke out and some hit him in his face.

He smiled lazily at you.

He spent the rest of the night having you grind down slowly on his dick while shotgunning you, overstimulating you to the point you can’t even tell which way is up and where is down, hell you couldn’t even tell if you were still wearing clothes.

“Head up mama..”

You slowly pulled your head up from its hanging position and when you did, Armando blew a hit puff of smoke into your face, which, in response, you let out a moan at.

He smiled lazily at you and said, “Don’t do that shit again or the next thing you’re gonna be high off my dick instead of this weed mama..”

[GLOSSARY]

“Mama.. Enciende esto para mí...” — “Mama.. Light this for me...”

“Maldita sea mamá, no hagas eso.” — “Damn it mama, don’t do that.”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @armandosbabymama @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom @butterflyybabe @dyttomori @nuggetnat888 || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — MILLIUMIZOOMI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission.

[puckinghischier]

Suds n Sorrows

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader comforting nico after losing the last game of the season

notes: y’all i kinda love this one 🤭. me being a cancer, i’m patiently waiting for the day i can nurture and comfort nico. that’s all. hope you enjoy !!

request: Nico coming home after that last game of the season and obviously he really needs some cheering up from his girl.

(also, i used google translate for any german present in this fic, so if its wrong, oopsies)

[2.9k]

part 2 (18+)

~

You already felt terrible you were having to miss the last game of the season, but as you watch the clock hit zero on the screen of the tv in front of you, signifying another Devil’s loss, you really wished you could be there. You think about how defeated your boys look, not being able to secure one last win for the fans this season. You watch as they skate to the middle of the ice, thanking their fans with rounded shoulders and sad smiles on their faces.

You curse your professors, hating that their review schedules for finals fell right in the middle of the end of the hockey season. You were supposed to be there tonight, supporting your friends and boyfriend; but a last-minute email from a professor informing you of a mandatory review session, starting only an hour before puck drop, threw your plans out the window.

You pick up your phone to send Nico a quick text, telling him you love him and are proud of him no matter what. You know he won’t see it right away, with post-game interviews and the added responsibility of fan-appreciation activities, he won’t be home for another hour or two at the earliest. You turn the tv off, not wanting to see the dejected looks from the team any longer.

You go to the kitchen and start to busy yourself by making one of Nico’s favorite treats, wanting to give him something to smile about when he gets home. You make plans in your head to either make something or order something to take to the rest of the team tomorrow during their locker cleanout. Once you’ve finished the task at hand and cleaned the kitchen, you make your way back into the living room, figuring Nico will be home any minute.

You were scrolling through Instagram, lost in the comments on the Devil’s most recent post about the fans, when you heard the front door to your apartment open. You sat up, turning your body to face the entry way, watching Nico walk towards you. He dropped his bag as he reached the couch, wordlessly flopping down beside you, throwing his body half on top of yours. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the comforting scent of your perfume, squeezing your body against his own.

“I’m so proud of you,” is the first thing you said to him, taking the beanie off of his head so you can run your fingers through his hair.

“Nothin’ to be proud of, Schatz. We lost. Didn’t you see?” You feel him mumble against your skin.

“Hey, now. No more pity party, alright? You still went out there and gave it everything you had. I’ll always be proud of you, win or lose,” you scold, hating when he doesn’t give himself credit for all the work he puts in for this team.

“Just wish we could’ve won one last one. For the fans. For the guys. For Jack.”

“How is he, by the way? You heard anything?” You ask about the middle Hughes, knowing how upset Nico was he wouldn’t be finishing the season with the rest of the team.

“Yeah, talked to him before the game. Sore, but good. Already trying to weasel his way back onto the ice, but Ellen has him under house arrest.”

You chuckle, causing Nico’s body to shake with yours, knowing how stubborn Jack can be.

“I swear, if he doesn’t just let himself rest and heal I’ll fly out to Michigan myself to babysit him,” you tell your boyfriend, earning a laugh in response.

The conversation falls silent soon after, the two of you just soaking in each other’s company. You had adjusted your bodies so Nico was fully laying on you now, one hand continuing to play with his hair, the other lightly tracing shapes up and down his back. You worry he’s fallen asleep until you feel him lift his head, resting his chin on your chest so he can look up at your face.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask him, looking down at his soft, sad eyes.

“Not much to say. We lost. The game, the season, the cup. We just didn’t perform this year. Got a lot to work on going forward,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes.

“Okay, when I asked if you wanted to talk about it, I didn’t mean give me locker room answers. I meant, do you want to talk about why you’re being so hard on yourself? Why you’re acting like you won’t ever play hockey again? I know how hard this is on you all, especially after the season you guys had last year, but not every year is a stellar year, Neeks. Sometimes you have to have a bad season before you know how to have a great one,” you pushed him off of you slightly, both of you sitting up so you can face each other.

“I know we can’t be great every year, Y/N, but I at least expected us to do as well as we did last year. Coming off of such an explosive season, even though we didn’t win the cup, I figured everyone would show up ready to go, ready to win some games. And then then everyone started getting injured, and the longer the season went on, something shifted. It’s like they gave up before we even got started. It’s like they didn’t even want it anymore!” Nico cries out, letting himself get worked up.

You simply nod, encouraging him to keep going, knowing he needs to get it out of his system.

“I just-“ he hesitates, calming himself from his outburst mere seconds ago. “I worry about who’ll be coming back next season. I like this team. I love these guys like they’re my brothers, and I wanted better for so many of them. Nothing is ever guaranteed in the league, and I just want to keep playing with this team. Tonight could’ve been the last time I ever stepped onto that ice with a few of them.” He continues, emotion so raw on his face you almost want to cry for him.

There it was. The real reason he’s so upset. You knew this was more than just a loss, even if it was a hard one. He hardly ever comes home and just allows the two of you to sit in silence, always going over what they could’ve done better, and what they need to work on in the future. He’s upset about losing his team. Nico always gets so attached to his players, wanting to give every person he plays with the best guidance and outcomes he can. You figure its why they made him captain.

“Oh Neeks,” you start, reaching out to grab his hands. “These guys love you, you know that, right? They want to do their best for you, always. You think they don’t beat themselves up for letting you down?” you pause, wanting your words to truly reach him. “But…you know this is always a possibility. Trades get made, contracts expire. It’s just part of the world you signed up for. I can guarantee you, nearly every one of these guys would come back next year if it was up to them. They love this team just like you do,” you reiterate, having been told this by his teammates more times than you can count. “You gave them everything you could this season. I can assure you, not a single player left that arena tonight thinking of what you could’ve done differently, instead focusing on what they could’ve done differently.”

Nico sat for a second, absorbing your words. He takes his hands from yours to place his head in them, trying to collect his thoughts.

“Wenn es nur so einfach wäre,” you hear the foreign words muffled by the sound of his hands.

“Neeks, you know I’m learning, but I have no clue what you just said,” you chuckle slightly, not knowing if he’s even aware of the language switch.

“I said, if only it was that easy. I know you’re right, I do. But I just can’t make my brain hear the words the way my ears do,” he sighs.

You look at the man in front of you with sad eyes. You wish you could carry some of this burden for him, but you can’t. At the end of the day, you don’t know what it’s like to be the captain of a hockey team. You don’t know the full extent of the pressure not only his coaches place on him, but the team management, as well.

“My sweet, sweet boy,” you coo sadly, reaching out to cup his face, his own sad, brown eyes looking into yours. “Why don’t we just relax for the rest of the night, yeah? I was thinking about a bath earlier, if you wanted to join me? I’ll add some of that bubble bath you like. The one that smells like oranges and raspberries?” You question, deciding you’d talked enough hockey tonight.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agrees, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You lean forward to give him a small peck on his forehead before standing and making your way to the bathroom.

You make sure the temperature of the water isn’t too hot, but still wanting it to be warm enough to soothe the ache not only in Nico’s muscles, but the ache in his chest, too. You decide to light a few candles, wanting to make the space as relaxing for him as possible. The bathroom door opens as you’re lighting the last candle, Nico having already discarded most of his clothing, standing before you only in his boxers.

He closes the door behind him, walking fully into the bathroom and leaning against the counter next to you. You set the candle away from anything that could potentially catch fire, and walk over to Nico. You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against his bare chest.

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, trying to transfer every ounce of love you have for the man through the contact. Eventually he pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulder before cocking an eyebrow, eyes raking down your body at your still fully clothed figure.

“Shouldn’t you have much less clothing on if we’re meant to be taking a bath together, Schatz?” he asks, the teasing in his voice a nice change from earlier.

“Are you trying to get me naked, cap?” you try to act shocked, but you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out on your face.

“Always, Mrs. cap,” he cheekily responds, using his teammates’ nickname for you.

You step back with a giggle, undressing yourself as Nico removes what little clothing he had on. After you walk over to turn the bathroom light off, the two of you step into the steaming tub, settling into a comfortable position. Your back rests against Nico’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, his clasped hands resting on your stomach. He begins tracing shapes on your stomach like you were on his back a few minutes ago, letting the warm water heat your skin and wash the stress of the day away.

“You know, even though I’m sad the season’s over, it does mean I get to spend more time with you now,” Nico breaks the silence, head tilted to rest against yours.

You hum in response, smiling at the thought of no more early morning alarms or late-night interruptions when he gets home from a roadie. You daydream about lazy mornings and breakfast in bed, something the two of you don’t get to indulge in nearly enough. You open your eyes, the thought reminding you of the treat you made Nico before his arrival home, nearly forgetting about the baked good sitting in your kitchen.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I baked you a little something before you got home!” you sat up a bit, water splashing around you.

“You did? What ever for?” Nico asks, eyes widening a bit at your sudden burst of enthusiasm.

“Just because. Knew you had a hard day, wanted to make sure you had something sweet to brighten it up a bit,” you shrugged.

“Not necessary. Not with the promise of getting to come home to you already.”

Your cheeks flush red, never really getting used to the sweet words Nico always throws your way.

“Well, I guess you don’t want any Luzerner….Luzerner…Leb…” You start, but can’t remember how to pronounce the Swiss dessert. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, aggravated with yourself and your lack of fluency in Swiss-German.

“Luzerner Lebkuchen?” Nico finished for you.

“Yeah…that.” You roll your eyes at his perfect pronunciation.

“You really made it for me? From scratch?”

“Mhmm. Used your mom’s recipe. I hope it turned out. I didn’t want to cut into it to try it before you got home. Wanted to surprise you.”

Nico’s heart swelled at the confession, amazed that you’d go through all of that effort just for him. It wasn’t an easy dish to perfect, by no means. It took his mom years to get her gingerbread cake perfectly moist and flavorful. Regardless of how it tastes, he’ll savor it like it’s the last food on earth, simply because you made it for him.

“Well consider me surprised,” Nico murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.

You love moments like these. Lost in Nico, the two of you in your own little world. No hockey, no schoolwork, no responsibilities. Just two people hopelessly in love with each other, soaking in every ounce of affection the other has to offer.

Nico runs his hand down your back, causing your body to shiver at the contact. He pulls you closer, his other hand coming to tangle itself in your hair, tugging just enough to cause your mouth to open in a gasp, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fight one another, his winning the struggle for dominance in the end, a groan working its way out of his throat. When he starts to move his hand lower down your back, grabbing the flesh of your ass in the process, you pull back, lips swollen and out of breath.

“Nope. Slow your roll, hot stuff. This was meant to be a relaxing bath, not a sex and suds party,” you push him back by the shoulders, earning a pout from the man across from you.

“But, a sex and suds party sounds pretty relaxing to me. No better way to unwind after a hard day than watching your face as I make you cu-“

“Nope! Not happening right now! Keep it up and it won’t be happening at all tonight,” You warn, turning back around to resume your earlier position, hands resting over his on your stomach to keep them from wandering.

Nico laughs, finding amusement in your commitment to the relaxing bath you promised him. He places a kiss to your temple, deciding to leave it alone for now, knowing he’ll revisit the subject later.

The two of you sit in the warm tub until the water runs cold, talking about anything that crosses your minds. From your upcoming finals to summer destinations you’d love to visit, the security of your bubble filled world allowing no room for hockey talk or stressful situations to infiltrate the delicate space.

After you start shivering, having put up with the cold water for as long as you could, Nico reaches forward to drain the tub, deciding that its time the two of you get out and dry off. You step out of the tub, reaching for the towels you had placed on the closed lid of the toilet seat, grabbing one for yourself before handing one to Nico. The two of you dry off your bodies, no sound other than the draining tub in the room. You look over to Nico, towel wrapped around his waist, and admire the man you love. You love him for so much more than his physique, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the cherry on top of the already perfect soul before you.

Before he catches you staring and gets anymore ideas, you look away and wrap your own towel around your body, trying to shield yourself from the cool air on your damp skin.

“Thank you, Schatz,” Nico breaks the silence, causing you to look up at him, noticing he had closed the distance between the two of you, reaching out to place a piece of hair behind your ear, hand falling to your cheek.

“For what?”

“For always being here when I need someone. For always knowing exactly what I need, even before I do. For being you,” he states, referencing the many times you’ve been his sanity after days like today, always managing to take his mind off of his troubles and filling his head with thoughts of you, instead.

“Always,” you turn your head, placing a kiss on his palm before placing your cheek back against his palm, flashing Nico one of your loving smiles.

“Now, what about digging into that cake I made you? It’s not going to eat itself, you know?” you perk up, wanting to find out if you efforts paid off or not.

“Oh, I have a different kind of dessert I’d rather dig into, if you don’t mind,” Nico smirks, watching your eyes widen as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at your squeal as he heads towards the door of the bathroom, ready to savor his sweet treat.

[lady-ace]

Injustice Spirit

(Injustice Ghost, part two)

(I'm so happy for the support on the first part, i'm glad you all liked it! :) Anyways, heads up again, this will talk about what happened to Billy in injustice, have some blood, and angst.)

According to the other members of the League, Diana is the last person the ghost showed himself to.

The Leaguers don't even got to ask the boy's name, as after he appeared to Clark, he stayed silent, ever watching. Arthur has said he's been feeling watched lately, same with Barry, Hal and Bruce.

They all started to notice scratch marks appearing on some places. The Zeta tubes, by example. The scratch marks look like somebody desperately scratched at it after failing to operate the Zeta, and was trying to get out.

Diana sighed, walking to the observation deck. Maybe watching the vastness of space and the bright stars will clear her mind?

When she arrived, she noticed someone sitting on the floor by one of the big windows, looking outside, hand on the reinforced glass.

“It's the ghost.”

Was Dianas first thought upon seeing him. The ghost was indeed as small as everyone said he was, and even more frail. He looked like if a strong bit of wind would knock him over, if ghosts could even be knocked over or touched by the wind.

Melancholy was clear on the spirit's face, reflected by the glass. He seemed not to notice Diana walked in, even though her reflection should be on the glass, too. Maybe he was deep in thought.

Diana didn't want to interrupt the poor boy, but he seemed just.. so lonely. Bruce had said that everyone's accounts, except for Clark's and Barry's, were extremely brief encounters. No words were exchanged, only the brief surprise of encountering the ghost, and him being surprised at being seen, before vanishing yet again.

The sound of Diana's boots echoed against the silence of the room as she approached the ghost as silently as she could, not wanting to scare him.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Diana said, as the spirit's head snapped to her in an instant, startled even though she said it as calm and as quiet as she could.

The ghost watched her like a wounded animal, wary, and looking for any reason to bolt. Yet, he didn't. He wordlessly nodded, and Diana looked at the glass once again.

“The stars are so bright. Sometimes, i still stop just to admire how pretty they are.”

She mused, as the stars seemed to shine brighter in response to her compliment.

The ghost (They really needed to find out his name. it seemed so wrong to just call someone 'the ghost' or 'the boy' all the time.) seemed to think, but his head didn't leave Diana's direction, so she assumed he was still looking at her, shoulders looking tense.

..Until suddenly, they weren't as tense, as he relaxed a littlest bit.

“You really aren't anything like her.”

The ghost noted, his words repeating in a echo. Diana didn't how what he meant. Maybe she reminded him of somebody he used to know?

“You're good. Strong, but not evil. A inspiration, a hero. You're what she should have been. What she once was.”

Is what the ghost followed up with, his voice choked. The boy's arms started to shake.

Diana looked at the poor soul in front of him with concern. Who was 'she'? Did she hurt him? Is 'she' the one who killed him? So many questions, yet none of those she would have asked. He doesn't need questioning, he obviously needs someone to be there for him. To hear him.

“I'm sorry.”

Is what Diana started with, as the ghost looked up at her. She just knew that if the ghost had eyes, he would be holding tears back as she spoke.

“I may not know who you're talking about, but she doesn't sound lovely. I'm sorry you had an bad experience with her.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as a choked sob left the ghost, his whole body now shaking, small droplets of blood leaving the holes of where his eyes should be, imitating tears.

He threw himself at Diana, hugging her, as if he let go, she would be gone. His small figure shaking like a leaf as sniffles and sobs left him. Interestingly enough, he seemed somewhat more solid, and didn't phrase right through Diana, like what happened to Clark.

“You're g-good, right? Y-you wouldn't..”

He said between sobs. Diana noticed that her clothes and armour would be very bloody with tears, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She slowly hugged the crying boy back, using one hand to run her fingers through the small boy's hair, hoping to calm his desperate sobs down.

“T-they used me. I was b-blind and d-dumb and so stupid and..”

The boy continued, not letting go of the hug but now trying to look up at Diana.

Diana shot him a look that she hoped was comforting. She may not know what happened to him, but he clearly needed to get this out. The poor boy seemed to hesitate for a bit.

“You aren't dumb or stupid. Please, don’t beat yourself up like that, dear.”

That seemed to give the boy courage, as he let go of one hand to wipe away tears with his sleeve, the bright red hoodie now having a bit of blood on it.

“I-i thought we were doing the right thing..”

The spirit said, looking up at Diana. He couldn't look smaller like this, and it breaks Diana's heart.

“T-they called themselves heroes. Nobody stopped him.. they just... watched.”

Oh. Is the poor boy a villain victim? The thought of failing someone like him, leading to his death, hurt Diana even more. She didn't know the boy, but she would be damned if she let anyone ever hurt him again. And so, she hug him a little bit tigher, whispering encouragements as the boy paused to sob, his face now running with the bloody tear tracks.

“Grundy w-was the one who buried me. i n-never went home.”

That seemed to remind the ghost of something. Diana frowned. Who did that? Who was cruel enough to let someone like Grundy bury a child?

“Oh g-gods i never went home. M-Mary.. F-Freddy.. t-they're all still waiting.”

Oh.

He had a family. A family who didn't know he was murdered in cold blood and let to be buried by a villain. She didn't think this could get worse, but yet, it kept getting worse.

“T-they're still in the danger.. AND I CAN'T HELP THEM!”

This launched the ghost to a panic, pushing himself off the hug as he grasped his head. Diana felt so impossibly lost. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know what to or not to say- the poor ghost just realized his family probably just thought he was missing, and, according to him, were also in danger.

Diana grasped his shoulder gently as the spirit started to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey. Could you look at me?”

Shakily, the ghost's head turned to her.

“Thank you. Could you imitate my breathing?”

Diana inhaled, then exhaled slowly, trying to get the ghost to copy her. When she noticed he was trying to, she smiled.

“Yes, just like that. You're doing great.”

The spirit continued until his breathing leveled up again and he slumped against Diana, utterly exhausted.

“I'm sorry.”

He apologized, wiping his bloody tears yet again, this time with the other sleeve.

Diana simply hugged him again.

“You don't need to apologize for anything, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”

The boy slowly nodded, and seemingly fell asleep, utterly exhausted, probably both mentally and phisically.

“I promise i won't be like those who hurt you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, if i have anything to say about it.”

She pet him, now looking up the glass, at the stars.

They truly looked beautiful.

/ / /

(Part 2 done! This will have a part 3, and it will be the final part.)

[vivwritesfics]

POV: Oscar saves reader

An NNTA AU

Just before she is due to marry Carlos, Oscar takes her away

For this, i'm pretending all the US immigration stuff doesn't exist, like, I know its seriously difficult to get a visa to live and work in the US, but i've ignored that here

Series Masterlist

It was the night before the wedding and Y/N was crying into her pillow

You know how the story goes, what happens when she marries Carlos

And, in a way, she knew it too

She knew what was going to happen to her, the impending tragedy she could feel coming

No amount of consoling from Oscar had any effect

In our original story, Oscar disappears to get some beers and let her have one last fun night

But, in this story, Oscar didn't do that

While she had been sleeping, Oscar was wide awake, putting things in place to get her away from Carlos's house

The hardest part had been getting a car and stashing it outside of the gates

If it was still there when they went to escape, he would have been incredibly surprised

"Pack your bags," said Oscar as he gently pulled her away from the pillow and wiped the tears from beneath her eyes

"Osc," she began, but he threw a bag onto the bed and pulled an already packed one from beneath it

Wordlessly, she got on with it, packing her things into the bag

The bag was tiny, not nearly big enough to pack all of her things

But she did what she could

"What're we doing?"

Oscar took her hand and kissed the back of it

He pulled open her bedroom door, keeping his hand on his gun as she looked up and down the corridor

When he saw nothing, he walked out, Y/N trailing behind him

He went to the stairs, kept his gun pointed down as he looked for any of Carlos's men

They had a clear run to the stairs

Oscar kept a tight hold of Y/N as they ran towards the front door

Outside would be a different story - there would be cameras everywhere and probably some men too

"When we're out there, run like hell," he said and waited for Y/N to nod before he opened the door

They did just like that, ran like hell

The gates weren't the most sophisticated and Oscar easily got them open

He took Y/N's hand and pulled her towards the car that was still stashed away

Within seconds they were driving towards the airport, and nobody even knew they had left

"Where are we going, Osc?" Y/N asked as she leaned her head against the window

Finally, he answered her, "The Sargeants have offered us a place to stay in the United States," he said as they drove on the highway

The flight from Spain to the US was long and Y/N slept through most of it

Oscar didn't, though

He kept his arms wrapped around her, alert and protective

When they touched down in Florida, Logan and two other men in suits were there to greet them

"I'm putting my ass on the line for you, mate," (because I love the way logan says mate) he said as he pulled Oscar in close

Oscar looked at the girl behind him

"She's worth it," he said

The Sargeants had multiple safehouses

That was where Oscar and Y/N found themselves, in one of the Sargeant's safehouses

It was their perfect little haven

It was hard for Y/N not to fall in love with Oscar

If she wasn't already in love with him when she lived in Carlos's house, she certainly was now

The safehouse had one bed (because I love that trope)

At first Oscar refused to sleep in the same bed as her

He took a couple of pillows and slept on the floor

But then Y/N insisted that he sleep in the bed with her

They fell into a domestic sort of bliss, and that was how they got together

They didn't think about it the first time they kissed, laying in the bed they now shared

It had become normal for Oscar to hold her close while they slept, still protective

For a full year, their life was normal

Y/N wanted to get a job, she wanted that sort of normality, so she did

She went by her middle name, calling herself Piastri instead of Norris

That made Oscar wear his polite cat smile

Oscar got a job too, working for the Sargeant family

It was really nice, working with his best friend

They went karting together, taking Oscar back to the days before he began working for Webber, when his Formula One dreams were close to being a reality

After a year of peace, Lando found them

It had been a solo mission, something he hadn't told anybody about

His men didn't know, the man that should have been his brother in law didn't know

Lando made the trip to Florida alone, letting Sargeant know that he was on his way

The Sargeants pulled Y/N and Oscar in

Oscar was immediately protective when Lando walked into the room, but the Brit held his hands up defensively

"Relax, nobody knows I'm here," he said, looking at his sister (who had been pushed behind Oscar)

"I'm proud of you," he said, "both of you"

"Both of us?" Asked Oscar, unable to stop the face he was pulling

Lando nodded his head

"You got my little sister away from a marriage that i never wanted to happen"

Y/N stepped forward. "Why are you here, Lando?"

Truth was that Lando wasn't going to come, not until he found out that she was going by Piastri

That gave a certain idea (that they were together) and Lando couldn't not check it out

He was right, it seemed

The way Oscar was protectively in front of her told Lando everything he needed to know

The way Y/N was holding the back of Oscars white button up shirt told him

"I'm here giving my blessing"

"I don't need it," Y/N replied quickly

"I don't care, you've got it"

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal

[mypearlsareclutched]

You're Just Another One of my Problems

High By The Beach | Chapter Nine

Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character, Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Viserys Targaryen is dead. His death brings unlikely people together, and drives others apart. Mila is unsure about her place amongst the Targaryen clan, her feelings are complicated. Does she stick by brother she fell for first, or the one she fell for harder?

RIP Vizzy T you're serving Targaryen realness in the afterlife (and grooming minors too, probs). I kept going ham with this chapter and it ended up being 8k words so I split it up and now it's 5k and the next one is going to be 5k+ so y'all will be eating good bbgs x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Family death, funerals, reunited at last, Targaryen daddy issues, major angst, captain love triangles, Aemond's 'I can fix this' ass, toxicity, mourning, also Morning the dragon but she's a chihuahua, canon character death, colourful language, Daemon, Otto, no-one is happy.

Word count | 5.1k

previous chapter // next chapter

Mila decides to travel with Aemond and Aegon back to King's Landing for Viserys' funeral.

After Aemond went to bed the night of the Targaryen patriarchs death, Mila sought out Aegon. She found him sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom, looking lost. Unsure of... everything, she simply joined his side, letting him rest his head against hers as they sat in silence.

Aegon was unsure of leaving the beach house. The morning after thr news of Viserys' assing, as Aemond threw various items into his SUV and waited outside for the other two to join him, Aegon stood outside, watching the waves with a blank expression. Mila watches him from the kitchen window, a crease forming between her brows.

Joining his side, she comforts him as she too peers at the ocean beyond. "We'll come back."

"You promise?" Aegon asks, voice uncharacteristically quiet and somber.

"I promise." 

He brushes the back of his hand against hers, the feeling of his soft skin comforting both of them. They share a look, words spoken silently before they turn and head off to join Aemond.

Opting to leave Aegon's battered and ancient car, the three pile into Aemond's car. The long, two day drive was painfully silent, no Cocteau Twins playing, no idle conversation, no Aegon swearing at passing drivers. Aegon slept in the back seat, Aemond taking Mila's hand into his own as he drove wordlessly. 

When they arrived back in Kings Landing, Mila felt an overwhelming feeling of dread. Like she wasn't supposed to be here, like she left herself back in Old Town. Aegon had paled during the drive, his smile vanished and his eyes haunted, and Mila knew he felt the same.

Aemond took a call from Otto, nodding along with his grandfather as he told him the plans for the funeral. He and Aegon were expected at the Targaryen estate, to prepare for the formalities. Aemond sighs as he ends the call, absentmindedly holding Mila's hands in his own as he looked out at the city scape. 

"I'm going to head to my brothers." Mila says, looking down at their enclasped hands, "I need to talk to him. I've been AWOL since Weirwood and we haven't spoken."

Aemond regards her silently, nodding. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, choosing his words wisely.

"Alright." He finally says, though his hand remains clutching hers, "The funeral is the day after tomorrow. Do you want me to pick you up from Cregan's?"

"Probably not a good idea to show your face there." Mila muses softly, pressing her lips together as she remembers Cregan's rage at Aemond for his actions that led to her overdose. Cringing almost noticeably, Aemond nods. "I'll be at the house at seven."

"I'll see you then." He leans down to press a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering. Mila presses her eyes closed, pulling back. Aemond's eyes flicker with disappointment, but Mila pretends not to notice as she takes a step back.

"See you then." 

She turns and looks to Aegon, who stares straight ahead, trying to not look at the interaction between his brother and the woman he loves. He pulls out his battered back of cigarettes, lighting one up and taking a drag. His eyes never meet hers. With an internal sigh, Mila leaves them both.

Knocking on Cregan's door, she braced herself for whatever kind of explosion that would be waiting for her.

The front door opens, and a familiar yet unexpected face greet s her. Rhaena gasps, flinching like a phantom was standing on the doorstep.

"Mila? Mila!" She exclaims, jumping and wrapping her arms around her, "Oh my fucking gods I can't believe you're here! You're okay! Oh my gods, Mila!"

"Mila?!" Cregan's voice yells from inside the flat, and his heavy footsteps echo down the hallway. Rhaena barely lets go of her friend before Mila is snatched up by her brother. His immense height and strength means he grabs her like she weighed nothing, pulling her off her feet and crushing her to his chest.

Mila laugh breathlessly, pressing her cheek to her brothers chest, the beating of his erratic heart could be heard through the old, white t-shirt he wore.

Cregan lets go of her, putting his hands on her shoulders to look down at her with wide eyes, "Where the fuck were you? Oh my gods, Mila, I was so fucking worried!"

"I called you." She tries to explain, placing her hands on his own.

"I broke his phone." Rhaena sighs guiltily, "I bought him a new one! But you... don't have his new number." She looks between them, looking crestfallen at the notion that she was the reason Cregan did not receive any of Mila's calls.

"Don't beat yourself up, sweetheart." Mila chuckles, taking Rhaena's hand in her own, "Next time I'll send a raven."

A huffed laugh escapes Cregan's lips, as he runs his hand over his face. Mila's mind finally kicks into gear, and she looks between her friend and her brother with furrowed eyebrows.

"Why are you here?" She asks the pale haired woman. Rhaena's eyes widen, and she gives her a shy smile. Cregan crosses his arms as he leans against the apartment door, nudging Rhaena to explain. Yet she remains silent, pressing her lips together as she nudges him back for him to explain to his sister.

"You two...?" Mila looks between them, "No fucking way, are you back together?!"

Rhaena blushes, smiling up at Cregan, "Kind of...?"

"Gods if I had known disappearing would bring you two back together I would have done it ages ago!"

"Not funny. Ridiculously unfunny" Cregan sighs, flicking her nose, his expression turning grim once again, "Why did you leave the clinic?"

Mila bites her lip, face darkening as she looks around the empty corridor where they linger, "Can we talk inside?"

"Oh my gods, of course!" Rhaena grabs her wrist, pulling her into the flat, "Come in, come in!" Momentarily forgetting about the owner of the flat, she shuts the door on Cregan's face as he stands outside.

"My apartment." Cregan grumbles with a sigh, though his voice is soft with affection for the Targaryen girl. He opens the door again, glaring half-heartedly at Rhaena's back as she drags Mila towards the kitchen. Cregan's apartment, bought with his giant footballer's paycheck, is completely open plan. The centre of the flat is the living room, with a conversation pit in the middle. The kitchen curves around one side, with the bedroom on the other side, an ensuite bathroom attached. Mila tries to not notice various items of Rhaena's clothes scattered across the floor.

"Tea? Tea." Rhaena drops Mila's wrist to flit around the kitchen, turning on the kettle and grabbing mugs as quick as a whippet.

"Rhaena, please, you're giving me whiplash." Cregan groans, wrapping an arm around her waist to halt her erratic movements and putting her down in the middle of the kitchen.

"Sorry, sorry." She laughs, running a hand over her locks. Her eyes follow Cregan's slower movements, her blush deepening.

"Great, I'm nineteen again." Mila groans, and Rhaena averts her eyes.

"Speaking of being nineteen again." Cregan grumbles as he leans against the counter next to the boiling kettle, raising an eyebrow at his sister, "Where did you go? I thought your vanishing into thin air days were over?"

"They are." Mila sighs, sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, "It's... well, it's a long story."

"Start at the beginning."

"It's the best place to start." Mila murmurs, accepting a cup of steaming tea from her brother, "So... I sort of freakout out and spiralled at the clinic-"

"Why?" Rhaena asks conversationally.

Because I almost kissed my ex-boyfriends older brother. "I started overthinking everything with Aemond, about what he said and how I felt like a disappointment for relapsing. I just... needed to escape."

Rhaena nods, her eyes sympathetic. Beside her, Cregan busies himself with stirring his tea, his jaw clenched as he listened to her tell her story.

"So I left. I hitchhiked back to Kings Landing, went to Alysanne Martells and joined the old gang at Madame Sylvie's. I got drunk and high and stupid. But it was all ok until I got into some trouble. With Jason Lannister..."

"I heard something happened with him." Cregan nods, "His brother Tyland snatched him up after he had a weird meltdown about the Targaryens, no-one's seen him since. What happened, Mila?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Did he try to hurt you?" Cregan asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Cregan knew about what Jason was like a few years ago. He was notorious for dealing drugs to famous folk, and for taking advantage of women who were in dire need of a hit. Mila had fallen victim of him a few times when she was a teenager, and Jason gained a few broken bones from Cregan's rage subsequently. But Jason never learned, and Mila could tell Cregan was worried about what he did that night.

"Aegon saved me." Mila states simply, "That's all that matters."

"Is it true he broke Jason's nose?" Rhaena asks, eyes wide, "Floris said she saw him and it was all bent outta shape like a tree root."

"Sounds accurate." Mila chuckles, shaking her head.

Cregan watches Mila, his face pensive as he thinks about what she's said.

"So where did you go with Aegon? It can't have been anywhere in King's Landing, I looked everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

"Everywhere."

"He took me to Old Town. His families beach house." A small , "I got better. Mentally, emotionally. Started to feel normal again. Like I wasn't some... freak let down."

"it's hard to feel like you've hit rock bottom when you're standing next to Aegon Targaryen." Rhaena muses. "Nothing against my cousin... well, everything against my cousin. He's a lost cause."

"No he's not." Mila said assuredly, finding herself quick to defend him, "He's doing much better. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him"

"So, a few weeks at the beach, you're better and you're besties with Aegon 'the Mattress' Targaryen?" Cregan chuckles mirthlessly, suspecting there is more to the story than she let on.

"You sure you didn't get high by the beach?" Rhaena asks, chuckling at her own joke.

"What's funny."

Mila jumps as someone else groans, looking around to spot the .

"Jace?" She laughs, spotting a head of fluffy dark hair popping up from the conversation pit. He looks around blearily, blinking at her. He waves slightly, before clutching his head and falling back onto the red couches.

"What was the joke?" He calls out.

"High By The Beach, by Lana Del Rey?" Rhaena laughs, before her face falls and she looks at Cregan, "How long has he been here?"

"...I have absolutely no idea." Cregan groans, walking over to the pit, "Jace, get the fuck out of my flat." He grabs a couch cushion and smacks Jace with it.

Mila stayed at Cregan's that night. The urge to go back to her own apartment never came, and the thought of being alone made her feel stomach twist into knots. Not after spending weeks with Aegon always at her side...

Ignoring her insistence that she could sleep in the conversation pit (once Rhaena had dragged Jace out of the flat by the scruff of his neck), Cregan had further insisted that she sleep in his bed. Before the conversation was over, Cregan had sprawled all six foot four inches of himself across the red cushions of the retro pit and conked out, leaving Mila to unceremoniously collapse onto his fur covered bed.

Rhaena had come back the next morning with a spare black outfit for Mila to wear to the funeral, something that she was immensely grateful for. She and Baela had turned up bright and early, rising before the sun.

They turned up with their dogs, Moondancer and Morning, at their heels. Moondancer, a dalmation with the prettiest, most judgmental eyes, had greeted Mila with a nudge of her head and a few barks that sounded way too reprimanding. While Morning, a baby chihuahua, had crawled onto Cregan's sleeping form in the pit and fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Baela stares at Mila with wide eyes after she confesses everything that happened. Since Viserys' birthday a month ago, to his funeral tonight. Including all the gory details of drugs, the beach house in Old Town, big Tesco and fucking both the Targaryen brothers. A detail she would have preferred not to hear about her two cousins.

"Gods wept, Mila, this is bad." She groans, holding a chipped mug in a well manicured hand.

"Thanks! I'll be sleeping on the highway tonight." Mila sighs.

"You need to talk to Aegon."

"You think?" The Stark says sarcastically, pouring more expensive coffee into her and Baela's mugs.

"Yeah." Baela smiles, patiently ignoring the other woman's sass, "I'm not the biggest fan of my cousin, but from what you've said, he's changing. Or at least trying to. And that's more than I've ever seen of him. He must know you're special."

"Stop it bae." Mila sighs as she puts the mugs down, running a hand over her face. Baela stands up from the table, walking around Mila to wrap her arms around her from behind, resting her head on her shoulder. Mila sighs into her, resting her temple against the other woman's head.

"It'll be okay, Mimi."

"Y'all have the worst nicknames for me." Mila laughs.

"That's because we love you."

"Love you too, Baebae."

"Ugh." Baela groans, nipping Mila's shoulder, "Ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be." Mila sighs as she follows her friend towards the front door.

As they slipped on their heels and finished their appropriately somber makeup, Rhaena sat next to Cregan and kissed his nose.

"Can the dogs stay here during the funeral?" She asks him softly, though he was barely awake.

"Sure." He grumbles, glaring at Morning on his shoulder. Rhaena beams and kisses him lightly on the lips, joining her sister and Mila at the door as Moondancer replaces her on the bed, sneezing over Cregan.

The last thing they heard from the flat was Cregan's murmured "fucks sake..." as the dogs got comfortable on his bed.

Once they got to street level, Mila was already feeling anxious about the day ahead. Emotions would come to surface at the sure to be extravagant funeral for the head of the Targaryen dynasty, and the Stark did not know if she was ready for that yet. Baela held her hand as they headed towards their car,

Laena Targaryen, her married name remained due to the recentness of her divorce, was leaning against the sleek black car. She smiled warmly at the three as they appeared, kissing Mila's forehead quickly before they all climbed into the car.

At the Targaryen estate, Mila finds her movements are slow and sluggish as she gets out the car, her body and soul unwilling to face the Targaryen's now, in their state of

"You're not coming in, mum?" Baela asks her mother, fluffing out her hair as she sneers at the building ahead.

"If I have to see your father, he'll be spooning his brother in his grave before the day is up." Laena smiles from inside the car, kissing Baela's forehead as she leans in.

"If you need anything, please let me know. Baela and Rhaena really love you, so I have no choice but to love you too. You have my number, anything happens, you call me."

"Thank you, Laena." Mila smiles.

"Say 'hi' to Rhaenyra for me." She says finally, before sliding back into the car. Ah, yes, another one of the Realm's Delights many ex's, Mila thought to herself with a chuckle. No wonder Daemon and Laena's relationship ended badly, he probably could never compare.

"Ew, mom." Baela blanches, rolling her eyes at the retreating car. The two Dragon Sisters begin walking towards the estate, heels clicking against the cobblestone. Up ahead, more and more cars unloaded black-clad mourners, surrounding the already darkened Targaryen mansion with a sea of night.

Mila tries to bite back the dread inside her as she joins her friends' sides.

Spotting Rhaenyra and her children greeting mourners across the courtyard, the group head her way. Jace's face brightens immediately, a wild grin on his face as he practically sprints over.

"Finally! Gods this is already such a drag, I'm so glad you guys are here." He grins, grabbing Mila's hand.

"That's so inappropriate, Jace." Baela smacks the back of his head, "Your grandfather is dead, dumbass, act sad."

"I've been acting sad all morning." Jace rolls his eyes, throwing his arm over Mila's shoulder, jostling her, "My favourite Stark is back."

"You saw me last night, moron." Mila says affectionately, "And I won't tell my brother you said that."

"No, go ahead." Jace wiggles his eyebrows, "He shags better when he's mad."

"Gross. His girlfriend is right here."

"His mistress, you mean." Jace sticks his tongue out at Rhaena, who elbows him with a roll of his eye. He and Baela begin bickering, while Rhaena

Rhaenyra smiles sadly at Mila approaches, reaching out and taking her hands in her own.

"How are you feeling?" Nyra asks.

"I should be asking you that." Mila sighs, noting the aura of sadness around Rhaenyra. She was always her father's favourite, knowing him during his peak, when he was a formidable philanthropist and model father. Doting, proud, everything a father should be. Everything his other children never got.

At a time, Viserys Targaryen was known as a family man. Husband to a beautiful wife, father to the perfect daughter. Then his wife died in childbirth, their second child never once opening his eyes, and Otto Hightower got his claws into Viserys. Married a young, beautiful woman, had four more children, continued on with life. But Viserys Targaryen was bitter until he died, crippled and as cancerous as the disease that took him.

"I am... well, I will be alright." Rhaenyra sighs, looking over at the rest of the funeral goers.

The main door opens, and Aemond strides out. Despite herself, Mila's breath catches in her throat. He's dressed in a full black suit, perfectly tailored and hugging his lithe frame. A green tie clip, as well. Of course he would get a new, expensive suit for his father's funeral. If Mila didn't know any better, she would say he straightened his hair. It falls perfectly around him like a blanket of bright gold, his skin pale and flawless.

It's a shame he's so beautiful, it would be easier for Mila to hate him if her heart didn't flutter whenever she saw him

His lone eye lands on her, pale blue iris and dark pupil scanning over her. With a nod, Aemond extends his hand out. Even across the courtyard, with a hundred people between them, he watches only her.

Rhaenyra's hand grips Mila's harder, her eyes hardening as she looks at her half-brother.

"I should go over to him." Mila sighs, nodding her head resolutely. Giving her a cautious look, Rhaenyra keeps her hand in hers, giving her a reason to stay by her side.

"You don't have to." The older woman says softly.

"I do." The Stark replies, squeezing Rhaenyra's hand and kissing her cheek, before leaving her.

A hundred people milling about in waves of black might as well not be there, as Mila walks through like towards Aemond Targaryen. His hand remains out, palm up as he offers it for her to take. And as she meets him at the bottom of the steps, she does. Instinct wins again.

"Come on, the rest of my family is already inside." Aemond says, squeezing her hand as he turns and leads her inside the mansion.

There are less people inside. Mila recognises a few, like Borros Baratheon and Jason Lannister, and members of Viserys' advisory board like Jasper Wylde and a man named Orwylle. All of them offer murmured condolences to Aemond, eyebrows raised in intrigue as they lay eyes on the She Wolf beside him.

It's hard not to feel like a spectacle, Mila notes as she lets Aemond lead her towards the parlour.

The rest of the Targaryen's mill about. Alicent is recognisable despite her veil as she stands beside her father. She lets out a gasp as she sees Mila, rushing over to her to grab her into a tight hug.

"Sweet girl, you're alright...."

"I am." Mila squeezes the Targaryen matriarch back, before holding her at arms length to give her a somber look, "I'm so sorry, Alicent."

The older woman nods, face barely vible under her veil. Over her shoulder, Otto Hightower watches Mila like a hawk. Almost like he was summoned, Aemond returns to Mila's side, taking her hand again. As if to prove a point to his grandfather.

As gently as she could, Mila gently lets go of Aemond's hand, moving over to the other Targaryen siblings. Daeron brightens as he sees her, immediately rushing over and crushing her into a hug. Mila smiles as she smooths her hands over his back, feeling him sniff as he lays his head against her shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Dare?" She asks softly, leaning back to look at him as she holds his elbows. He sniffs again, looking around with glassy eyes.

"I don't know, Mila. Me and dad weren't close or anything, but... he was still my dad, y'know?" 

"I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry." Daeron holds her hands, squeezing them gratefully before he leaves room for Halaena to join their side.

"Hey Hel-" Mila starts, before she is cut off by Halaena hugging her. The second daughter of Viserys was never one for physical contact, even with her family, so Mila carefully wrapped her arms around the other woman, hand cupping the back of her head as Halaena sank into her, "It's okay, lovely."

"Missed you." Halaena murmurs, voice muffled by Mila's coat.

"Missed you too, bug." 

Mila keeps her arm around her as they seperate. Helaena leans into her, cheek against her covered shoulder as she stares out into the distance. The Stark's hand holds the Targaryen up, sensing her mind is elsewhere in this moment.

Across the room, another pair of blue eyes watches Mila closely. She tries not to make it obvious when she looks over at Aegon, who sits sprawled out on one of the sofas. He seems calm at first glance, and perhaps his anguish would only be noticed by those closest to him. Mila looks at him for a long moment, watching his somber face and twitchy eyes.

She wants nothing more than to go over to him. To sit at his side, hold him to her like she did in Old Town. To press a kiss to every inch of his skin until he felt right again. But under the watchful eye of Aemond and Otto Hightower, she couldn't.

Someone clears their throat, and all eyes turn to Criston Cole as he stands in the doorway, looking ever the dutiful servant as he stands with his hands crossed in front of him. He nods to Otto, a grim look on his face.

"It's time."

Finally, after many years of illness and waiting, Viserys Targaryen is laid to rest. Inside a black coffin, he is lowered into the ground in the family lot, his ancestors surrounding him.

Mila stands at Aemond's side as the septon delivers a eulogy, harmonised by rolling thunder above. Small drops of rainfall around them. Though looking around the mourners, the drops of rain would be the only water falling down their faces.

Aemond watches with a stoic face, his eyepatch dripping, seeing eye dry. He stares at the descending coffin with disdain, with relief. His hand cradles Mila's waist, holding her close to him as the rain slowly drenches them both. Whether he holds her for comfort, for warmth, or for possession, she does not know.

Alicent is pale beneath her veil, brow furrowed as if she is confused about how she should feel. Her eyes keep flicking to her father, who barely spares the coffin a glance as he continuously looks at those around him. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, Rhaenyra, Daemon, Mila. All of them are merely here to be observed.

Helaena stands between Baela and Rhaena, the Dragon Sister's forming a protective barrier for their favoured cousin. Daeron stands with Jace and Luke, near Rhaenyra. The only child of Viserys who cries over his grave.

Daemon stands away from the large group, simply watching his brother being lowered into the ground from across the way. His arms are crossed, in a show of boredom, that Mila can only read as protectiveness. A younger sibling watching his elder leave this world forever.

As Mila looks around at those witnessing Viserys' burial, her eyes finally travel to Aegon.

His eyes were already on her.

Her breath hitches when she catches him watching her. The soft blue of his eyes is perfectly visible to her, a soothing colour reminding her of the waves on the shore of Old Town.

Eyes moving down to rest on Aemond's protective grip on her, his gaze hardens. His eyebrows furrow, his face pales.

Mila shakes her head, trying wordlessly to tell him everything is okay. To tell him that nothing has changed. That it should be his side she stands at right now, his hand she holds as they bury his father.

Aegon mouths something to her, and Mila's heart flutters.

"I love you."

AN// Apology video with tears coming tomorrow after I post the next chapter... Thank you guys again for all of your likes and comments and reblogs y'all r crazy like me and I love you all <<33

Lula x

[casuallyanidiot]

The Beta Test | Chapter 2

[Yandere M x Gn Reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

1.6 k words Tw. Swearing

Chapter 1 Table of Contents

You stayed shivering on the floor of the cell for what you guessed to be the next few hours. There were no windows in the little room you had been stuffed into, and even the little dim lights under the cabinets on the other side of the bars had been turned off. They had shut off a few minutes after Javier had left, leaving you in near absolute darkness. Over the course of however long you had been in there, your mind had become increasingly clear.

You had fallen asleep after a certain point. Like, what else was there to do? When you woke up again, it felt like your spine had been bent into thirteen different directions. This sucked, to say the least. Your freedom for him getting with some girl? What a freaking weirdo. You sighed as you stretched out as best as you could and tried not to think about the absolute mess of a man that could probably harm you with little remorse. 

Still, all you could really do was wait for Javier to come back. So, that’s what you did.

It wasn’t clear how long you had been sitting there, staring at the cabinets and trying to imagine what lay in them, before a beeping noise came muffled from the other side of the door. Your bleary eyes widened before narrowing sharply. A twinge of annoyance ran through you as a head peeked into the room. This little asshole stared at you like you were some kind of rabid animal. Still, he shuffled in.

“ Hey uh, you’re probably hungry cause of the drugs and all. I brought you something,” he said. He walked over to stand in front of your cell. In his hands was a tray of what looked like something edible. Honestly, it was the least he could do. 

“ I would’ve had a…someone else deliver it to you, but I think we should kinda uh get to know each other a bit more. Since you know, you’re gonna help me and all,” he laughed a little and raised the dishes out to you slightly. You could only blink at his audacity. But hey, you were pretty hungry. 

The pit in your stomach had been a big pain in your ass for who knows how long, and you doubted that a hunger strike would really get you anywhere. You let a groan out in frustration as you threw your head back and started to stand.  It was a slow and shitty process; all your joints were cracking like a glowstick. You should not be having this hard of a time in your twenties. Maybe it was time to go see a chiropractor or something. Surely someone knew a good one that wouldn’t break your bank or back. 

Walking up to the metal bars you realized that this was the first time you had ever been this physically close to Javier. He must’ve been thinking the same thing because he was shifting around so much you would’ve thought that he had to go use the bathroom or something. Still, you wordlessly held out your hands with a blank stare. He looked at you silently for a few moments, absolutely flabbergasted I'm sure, and went rigid. You rolled your eyes.

“ For fuck’s sake man, just give me the food,” you said, pretty exhausted all around. Your sure you sounded like a stay-at-home military mom with 5 kids after picking them up from school or something. Not a good look at all. Whatever. Being held captive wasn’t exactly the vibe you wanted to put out either, but here you were.

“ Huh! Oh yeah.. That. Sorry, sorry. Here you go,” he said meekly and attempted to pass you your meal, finally, but there was just one issue. It was kind of weird how neither of you had noticed nor thought about the fact that the plate might be too big to actually fit through the bars. As the plastic dish was stopped by the immovable steel (or whatever metal it was actually made of. How should you know?) you pressed your lips into a thin, tight line. You raised your head to see the gloomy man going through what you could guess were the five stages of grief all at once. 

Yeah, Javier looked like he was on the cusp of shattering like a lego building does when dropped from the twelfth story.

“Dude…” you whispered, also absolutely devastated because you were hungry, duh.

“ Uhhh, umm.”

The guy couldn’t even get a single word out; He only kept trying to shove the plate into your cell. The room was filled with only the sounds of dull tapping. You could only stare on dumbly, lips parted in absolute disbelief.

“ Hey it’s um, it’s not going to get through,” you said. It was like your words went in one ear and out the other. It was like he was a robot, trying to do an action even though it was physically impossible. You noticed his trembling hands and his quivering lip almost immediately, and you shook your head. You reached through the bars and grabbed the plastic dish, stopping the weak motions. 

“ It’s not gonna work man. Let it go.”

It was like you had backhanded him or something. His dark eyes went wide and he actually jumped back from you. You were left in a pretty uncomfortable position there while he bumped back into a table. His chest was heaving pretty deeply, and his string bean body was splayed out in all sorts of awkward angles. You stood there, with your back still hurting as the one who kidnapped you in the first place stood trembling 5ft away. 

Well, that was a total waste of time. 

He seemed to realize that he was acting very, very strangely and cleared his throat. Javier ran his hands through his flat, dark hair, clearly stressed. He straightened up, pushing on the high-quality marble counters with shaky arms. 

“ I uh, sorry. I should’ve thought of that haha. Guess that just shows how useless I am,” he laughed weakly, and you grimaced at the way he glanced to the side. You rolled your eyes, the hunger had really started to whittle down your already tiny amount of patience. The plate of food, which you still could not pull into your cell by the way, smelled stupidly good. I mean, if you really tried, you could still be able to eat. Though as you held it up, you noticed that there was nothing for you to eat with. You huffed.

“ You’re fine, man. Can you get me a fork?”  

“ I’m fine? Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed out of relief. He laughed as he waved a finger at you. “ I think… I think I can see why you get along with people so well. “ You raised a brow at his words. He stood tall, finally done with whatever emotional rollercoaster he had gone through in like under two minutes.

“ I mean, you’re really good at talking to people. I mean we’re already having some fun memories, right? I mean, I know we’re not friends, not yet at least, but um, this is good! You can help me better if you’re more comfortable with me and stuff haha,” he said while rubbing his arm. You could only blink at the audacity of this man.

“ Fun memories? Like what?” You couldn’t help the confused hiss that left your lips.

“ Oh you know, like right now. I made a mistake and um, you were all reassuring and stuff. Like I said I know we’re not friends, but um it was really nice how you kept me calm and stuff. I know that I’m probably gonna remember this for a long time,” Javier giggled a little bit at the end.

“ Ah okay. Well, that’s cool and all, but can you please get me a fork?”

“ Yeah, it is cool. I’m glad that I came and talked to you today. I almost didn’t, haha. I was um, kinda nervous. I mean… yeah this was nice. I’m gonna go now. See you later,” he said. His gloomy expression had become noticeably brighter. He gave a little way and smiled before turning to the door.

“ Wha- hey wait!” You cried out, but he just kept walking. The door was shut once again and the same mechanical beeping rang out. You stood dumbfounded, an offended scoff leaving your mouth as those stupid lights dimmed down. The food in your hands couldn’t easily be eaten without utensils, and even if you did, your hands would probably be super messy. Your stomach rumbled as you sighed in defeat.

It was awkward to move the plate down to the ground while your arms were still outstretched beyond the bars, but you managed to do it. You stared at it longingly. Maybe if you looked at it long enough the flavor would somehow miraculously end up on your tongue. You slumped over in slight defeat.

While you had always assumed to an extent that Javier was socially inept, you would’ve never guessed it would be this bad. Like, the dickwad didn’t even spare you a second glance as he left. Did he even hear you? Was it even possible to be that wrapped up in oneself? You could kinda feel bad for the guy if the current setting was literally anywhere else. 

If you were back in the quiet corner of the library, then sure, you might feel for the guy. Hell, if he had asked you to help him like a regular fucking person would, you probably would’ve jumped at the chance. But here? Now?

You groaned as you slumped over. If he was this bad, then there was absolutely no way that he was going to get with that girl. Even if you helped. You looked miserably at your plate and bitterly came to the reasonable conclusion that you were probably gonna die here because of that fact alone.

Fucking Javier Galvan, man.

[27dragons]

Countdown to 2025: Dec 12

Cowboys AU / Marvel - Winteriron / Hibernate

The air had a different quality to it when Tony woke up the next morning. He pried one eye open, then cautiously tugged the quilt down from around his nose. Outside of the blankets, everything was frigid.

He sighed and nudged Bucky with his elbow.

Bucky grumbled wordlessly at him and snuggled deeper into the blankets.

Tony couldn’t blame him, but there were animals to feed, and whatever the snowstorm had dropped on them overnight, they were going to have to dig their way to the stable. He threw the blankets back, letting an icy gust blow down Bucky’s back.

“Fuck!” Bucky flailed to restore the blankets, and Tony chuckled as he dragged on his clothes over top of the longjohns that he’d slept in, then knelt to stoke up the fire. The water in the ewer had a thin scrim of ice over the top that he had to knock loose before he could splash his face.

If he hadn’t already been awake, that would’ve done it.

He went to the window and twitched aside the curtain to see what the storm had dropped on them.

Then he stood there for another couple of minutes, making sure he wasn’t imagining things.

“Tony?”

“We, uh. We’re not going into town today,” Tony said. “Or this week.”

“What?” Bucky slid out of bed himself, hissing as his feet hit the cold floor, and came to stand behind Tony. He looked out at the snow, piled neatly and smoothly halfway up the window of their bedroom -- their second floor bedroom -- and then whistled lowly. “I reckon not.”

“Still gotta milk the cow and feed the horses,” Tony pointed out.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, still staring out over the vast expanse of white, glistening in the faint, pre-dawn light. “Yeah, I’ll help you dig a tunnel to the stable door. But then...”

He leaned in to brush a kiss across Tony’s cheek, his mustache scraping against the stubble on Tony’s face. “Well then, I reckon we can spend the rest of the day hibernatin’ in bed.”

Tony huffed out a soft laugh, his breath steaming in the air. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we can do that.”

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Going For A Joy Ride With Mirage

Mirage X Human FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Mirage is a jerk, teasing

Word Count: 1k

(A/N:) Transformers Rise of the Beasts is taking over my brain. While Optimus is my absolute favorite and always will be. There’s other characters I adore and Mirage is being added to that list. He really made the movie and I loved some of his lines. He made me laugh. I’m sure I’m not the only one who would enjoy an imagine with Mirage so I had to write one. I had this idea and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it anyway. So enjoy my Transformers madness, there may possibly be more where this came from! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Mirage was becoming antsy the more he had to lay low. Optimus had given strict orders that they were supposed to stay hidden and with no human contact. Which was hard when all you wanted to do was transform and stretch your peds. Mirage became grumpy if he couldn’t have any fun and he blamed it all on Optimus, so many times he disobeyed orders. Finding secluded areas to transform and just disrupt his mundane existence. One night you really disrupted everything. Mirage had thought that he had picked the perfect place at night to enjoy some time of freedom, when he spied a figure in the shadows. What you were doing there had completely left your mind when you saw the large mechanical being. With a scream you tried to run away only to be caught and trapped inside the cab of a silver and blue Porsche. No matter how much you tried the handle or kicked the window you couldn’t escape, when the car talked and froze you in your panic.

That’s the night Mirage met you and you met Mirage. While you liked the Cybertronian he was more fond of you and actually having a friend to talk to. He was easy going and made you laugh, though he could be overwhelming at times when he was really wanting to do something. His favorite though was joy riding. Your screams and panicked pleas gave him that jolt he was missing when he drove by himself.

You had met up with Mirage in the same spot as usual. The mech was pacing back in forth, watching you intensely as you sat on your regular rubble strewn spot. You would either sketch or read while he cracked jokes and tried to butt into what you were doing. You could feel his optics staring straight through you, making it hard for you to concentrate. With a sigh you shut your sketch book and turned towards him. He perked up now that he saw that he had your attention.

“What is it Mirage,” you asked. “If you stare at me any harder you’ll melt me with your laser beams.”

“I don’t have those sweetheart,” he chuckled. “But it would be awesome I did!”

“Mirage! Focus please,” you couldn’t help but laugh as he shook his head getting back to the topic at hand.

“I want to go joy riding,” he knew as soon as he asked, you would refuse. Though he did have his ways to make you say yes. You were a sucker if he brought out the water works or the sad optics. You were such a pushover and he loved that about you.

“Absolutely not,” you shrieked. Before Mirage could say anything else, you bolted. He sighed at your futile attempts to escape him. He picked you up from the ground, your protests echoing through the ruined building.

“Relax,” Mirage held you gently. You kicked and fruitlessly tugged at a digit trying to loosen his grip. Mirage held firmly so you gave up while still glaring viciously at him.

“I don’t wanna go for a “joy ride” Mirage! I’m going to die of a heart attack one of these days with your crazy driving!”

“Hey,” he scoffed, “I don’t drive crazy.”

“Oh excuse me reckless then,” you snarled.

“Thank you,” Mirage paused. “Hey!”

“My species is on the verge of extinction every time you take to the road Mirage!”

“At least you’ll be safe.”

“Oh sure that makes me feel so much better,” you threw your hands up and huffed.

The mech didn’t continue to argue with you, wordlessly transforming with you still in his grip. He plopped you into the passenger seat, your seatbelt buckling itself around you with a little extra squeeze. Mirage’s tires squealed as he peeled out, causing you to grip the seat with fingernails dug into the material.

“Loosen up sweetheart you’re hard on the merchandise,” Mirage’s voice came over the radio. His tone echoing with happiness. You kicked the dash in retaliation.

“I’ll show you hard on merchandise Mirage!”

He chuckled darkly and sped up, the acceleration pinning you back into the seat. Despite his teasing, Mirage did go a little easier this time letting you enjoy the ride more than the other times. After the initial anger and fear had left you actually began to laugh. After Mirage made his way back, he did a few donuts before finally coming to a stop. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were flushed when he finally opened the door, letting you out. Your legs were wobbly and walking was rough until Mirage came to your side and you were able to rest a hand on him for support.

“Having fun,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah tons. I love having jello legs,” you snorted making him laugh.

“Wanna go again? I like having you inside of me, holding on tightly.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” you choked. “It sounds weird when you say it like that!”

The large mech knew what he did to you and he enjoyed making you flustered. He also liked making you laugh or hold on tightly when you felt a twinge of fear at his reckless driving. But in all honesty he could never bring himself to hurt you. He had felt so lonely until he found you and now you were making the days worthwhile until Optimus was ready to make a move. Until then Mirage would enjoy the moments he got to be with you. He watched you trying to tug a knot from your hair before scooping up your abandoned sketch book. You noticed him staring again, but this time there was no mischievous look in his optics or features. A touch of sadness could be seen until it melted into his usual cocky look. You shook your head but walked over to him anyway, looking up towards him.

“I’m glad I met you Mirage,” you spoke.

He nodded happiness welling in his spark, “I’m glad too.”

[liillyliilly]

The Herpetologist

daishou suguru x reader words; 4456 synopsis; daishou suguru goes crazy for one (1) girl and it's the same girl who tells him that she hasn't had her first kiss.

It was always those damn Nohebi afterparties.

The kind that made her face burn in embarrassment. It was cruel really, trying to not hamper the mood of all her friends by declining to play any of the games. For once, she wished that the Nohebi third years would just play Uno. Or maybe, she should ask her friends to stop dragging her to the 18+ parties.

If she was at a normal party, maybe she wouldn’t be sipping a Coke-A-Cola in the corner while her best friend was essentially getting mauled by one of the basketball players. Or maybe this was what actual parties were. What happened to parties where everyone wanted to hit pinatas and watch the newest Jurassic Park movie? What was once popcorn and the Hot Billboard Pop 100 had gradually shifted into jello shots and music that made her toes curl.

To contemplate this shocking discovery longer than needed was distracting her from the original reason she was standing in the cold corner. Her designated corner. She hadn’t kissed anyone yet. It just didn’t feel right to waste a kiss on some stupid high school boy who probably didn’t brush his teeth enough. It also didn’t feel right to waste a first kiss during some ridiculous game only designed by the horniest of teenage desires.

She would go window shopping during times like these. Scanning around the room for a potential option that she could possibly be okay with giving her first kiss to. She never took the first jump into that pool.

It was always those damn Nohebi afterparties.

Daishou Suguru sat on an empty loveseat, arms resting on the length of the back of the couch. His legs were comfortably spread out, leaning back deeply into his seat.

He couldn't care less for the flitting around, drinking, and ridiculous games. Where was all the honest, genuine human connection? Not that he wanted that either. He just wanted something cunning to observe, entertainment at others' expense was his true forte.

Unfortunately, manipulation of people didn’t fly at a party the same way that it did on the volleyball court. He wished he could call Mika, at least so she could tell him an interesting story about college life. Despite their romance not turning out the way he had hoped, they stayed good friends. She was someone who he could rely on. Her new boyfriend was nice, and let Daishou drive his motorcycle around one time for kicks and giggles.

Drinking during the volleyball season was an illogical decision, but drinking when the season was over seemed appealing. Daishou just couldn’t drag himself over to the mixing table.

His thoughts were processing the music. Someone should’ve banned the person who had AUX. It was the third time that “The Color Violet” by Tory Lanez had played.

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Daishou got up and slithered over to the kitchen. In the corner was the girl. She was the one that his buddies had talked about. They complained that she never joined in on any of the games. They had said she refused to take body shots or give body shots. When they scoffed about her antics during the discussion in the locker room, Daishou just kept quiet.

He poured himself a glass of Sprite, threw an ice cube in his cup for good measure, and leaned against the kitchen island facing her.

They both just sipped from their drinks, analyzing the situation. Daishou had entered her territory wordlessly and had claimed a section of it for himself. She wasn’t going to speak first. Why should she have to speak to this prick? She knew him from class, class 6. She had wanted to test into class 7 but it was already full.

“L/N right?” Oh, goody.

“Daishou Suguru, right?”

He raised an eyebrow at the bite she had inserted. He felt like he was going to have a great time with her.

And he did. They had talked all night.

“That’s when I knew I loved volleyball.” Daishou spun around in the office chair. The two of them had migrated to the bougiest office either of them had ever seen. Some of the non-scholarship kids who attended Nohebi Academy were all set for life, including inheriting whatever kind of job provided for an office this expansive.

She was sitting on the window sill, tracing the various shapes on the seat cushions.

Daishou decided to investigate a little.

“You never play the games. You know, the intellectually stimulating game of Spin the Bottle. Or the ever-richly academic Suck and Blow. Or, or my buddy's personal favorite, Marathon Kissing.”

Maybe she felt like she wouldn’t be judged. Maybe she felt like this was a potential opportunity for an actual friendship. Was he lulling her into a false sense of security, or was that earnest tone of voice an actual curiosity?

“I don’t want my first kiss to be for some silly game.”

She got him hook, line, and sinker.

Or maybe he got her.

“How about lessons with a teacher?”

“Kissing lessons? That has to be some form of dubious prostitution schtick.”

“I don’t know, maybe if you had someone to teach you, or at least someone low-pressure that you don’t care about as your first kiss then you could become less of a social pariah at these things.”

“A social pariah, how kind of you to let me down gently.” She stood up from her spot on the window sill and rested her hands on the huge dark oak table. The black mat likely was used to hold a MacBook Pro, and the pen holder contained an expensive German fountain pen, both paragons of the wealth that was held by the owner of this home.

Daishou stood up as well and shrugged.

Her dad used to be really into the whole survivalist thing. She remembers all the stories and rules about snakes. Red touching yellow kills a fellow. The Japanese Mamushi snake was known for literally liquefying the tissue of the victims who got bitten. The Habu snake, found in Okinawa, was naturally aggressive, attacking before even getting provoked. But there was always the Japanese Keelback, a naturally calm, non-poisonous snake that was so small it liked to hide in rivers and streams.

Would he be the Keelback or the Habu? Only time would tell for her.

They kissed for the first time that night, her sitting on the desk, him shoving the ornamental decorations off the table. He held her face in his hands. He leaned so far forward that she was lying on the desk instead of sitting. Hands went from her face to her back, trying to push her up against him.

She wondered if she was a good kisser, or if that was all Daishou’s doing. If he made kissing seem so simple and natural like this. Was that a moan or was she just hearing things? His hands were behind her now, resting on the desk. He didn’t know why but he was keeping his face close to hers, letting his breath hit her neck. Was he panting from a simple kiss, or was the room just hot?

“Are you a liar?” Daishou used his hand to lift her chin, moving her face so he could pretend he was a detective, searching for clues to his hypothesis.

“I, uh, no. I’m not a liar.”

As much as they both wanted to pretend the kiss hadn’t affected either of them. Their share of tension, like a tightly strung cello string, meant they spent way more time together on a day-to-day basis.

He wishes that he didn’t seek her out as often as he did. Suddenly every test score was being placed on her desk to compare. Every essay was scrutinized not just by his eyes, but by hers as well. Lunches with the volleyball team talking about plans and games turned into sitting in Daishou’s car trading fruit cups for pieces of chocolate he had his mom import from Europe because he begged.

The question in both their minds was when they would kiss again. Tomorrow? Next week? Daishou prayed it wouldn’t be more than an entire month. She put her stupid feelings on the line when she asked for another lesson.

They weren’t at a party, they were at his house. He told his mom that they were studying because they were studying something. Instead of classic literature, or calculus, it was the art of the hickey.

Daishou realized he would have to articulate what little he knew about hickies. At least he brushed his teeth four times before she came over.

“Suguru, that’s the third time you’ve brushed your teeth, do we need to go to the dentist again? Want to borrow my waterpick?” His mom had called from the dining room, she was looking through university options for him. Trying to find one in Tokyo that would both challenge him and be close enough to home so she could see her son more often than a blue moon.

“I’m good. Thanks though.”

She came to his house earlier than expected, still wearing the Academy uniform. The girl’s uniform consisted of a pleated yellow skirt, a white button-up, and a green sweater vest. The emblem of a snake wrapped around a shield was carefully stitched onto the left breast pocket. Daishou was still in the bathroom, brushing away while listening to his playlist, he was nodding his head to the beat of “Snooze” by SZA.

When all music suddenly became all about her, he wondered if he still had brain cells that weren’t occupied by his favorite academic competition.

She knocked on the door and Daishou’s mom opened it. She had the same dark, slanted eyes that he did. Her black hair was shoulder-length and curled, she had the same dimples when she smirked at her son’s study companion for the evening. So this was the girl Suguru wanted chocolates for.

“Come in, come in.” Daishou’s mom ushered. “Suguru will be down in a minute.”

Looking around at photos was a good way to pass the time, there was one of Daishou on a soccer team, one on a baseball team, basketball, swimming, and all the other sports. When he appeared to be around middle school, everything was volleyball. There was a certificate of academic achievement resulting in a scholarship award.

“I was so proud when he got into Nohebi. His dad would’ve loved to see him at his alma mater.” Daishou’s mom opened a wooden box on the mantle place, flipping through some pictures before telling Y/n to come and look at the select few.

Daishou was younger in this picture, his mom looked younger too, and there was a man too. His dad. He had his arm around Daishou’s mom and a hand on Daishou’s head. An unreal smile was on everyone’s faces.

Daishou’s mom kept scanning through photos, she landed on one and froze for a moment. It was Daishou in a formal suit, his mother in a black long-sleeve dress, and a memorial picture of his father surrounded by white flowers and green shrubs. Their eyes were red, and his mom was managing a neutral expression, but Daishou looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in that photo.

“Suguru adored his father.” She sniffled, mouth quivering, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to damper your mood. I just thought a few cute photos of Suguru would sell you a little on my son. It's been so long since he had a girl over, especially one who’s smart. He just talks about you endlessly, I almost thought my ear would fall off.”

They didn’t have a lesson on hickies that night. Instead, they ate dinner with his mom and watched a movie. She was curled up with a blanket, watching the screen intently wondering what was going to happen to the main character.

He said he needed to go and get a glass of water. The college brochures were strewn across the kitchen island. He remembered what university she was planning on going to, so he picked up the information booklet for that same university. Grabbing a black marker, he bit the cap off and circled the application deadline several times. Using a thumb tack he put the paper right in the center of the corkboard.

Graduation was great, a blast even. It was three hours long, and the first fifteen felt like they lasted forever. Suddenly, the top students were giving their speeches, she got her diploma and she remembers cheering for Daishou to accept his. And then it was over.

And then he was pulling her aside, shoving a paper into her hands.

“Read it.” She nodded. “Now I mean.”

She skimmed the paper, looked up at him, and then looked back down to the paper.

“Suguru this is great! They gave you the Secondary Academic Merit award!”

“There’s more,” He pointed a finger at something he had highlighted green.

“They compounded it with a volleyball scholarship too? You get to play for the school and your education is free.”

In a moment she was picked up and gently spun around. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips, she could hear him swallowing. He mumbles. She cups his face with a hand, making him look at her. It's a short kiss, first on the corner of the mouth, then straight on.

“I still think you’re a liar.” He recalls the first-ever kiss they shared.

Then it dawns on him.

“The school? Don’t you mean our school?”

Some other school gave her a full tuition scholarship. The universities were approximately 3.38 hours away from each other by car. By train, the time was shaved by 0.14 hours. Daishou knows because he spent his graduation night calculating distances and adding up costs for tickets.

His mom tried to get him to eat the seaweed soup she had made, but he was busy writing everything down in his notebook.

He saved up all his frustrations, worries, and joy and then planned a weekend trip to her university. He liked to spend at least an hour or so chomping on her neck leaving teeth marks and arrangements of soft bruises from the remnant kisses.

When she asked him about it, he just shrugged. When she asked him about it again, he seemed to brush the topic away and offered to go get lunch together. The third time she asked was the time she got an answer from him.

“Because it’s to show that you’re mine.” He said it with a calm face. Almost as if he was asking her to ask him about it further. So she entertained him.

“And why exactly do you feel the need to show people that I’m yours?” She tilted her head, accidentally exposing a fresh canvas of skin. In an instant, his mouth was on her neck, biting it as he continued to explain.

“Because then I’m actively claiming you as mine. Despite my lack of physical presence, I’m still there somehow. That way no one will try anything funny.” He nipped at her skin, his sharp canine stabbing into her neck. “Do you know how tough it is being in class sometimes, wondering if there’s another dude in one of your classes who’s eying you up? Especially when you wear that cream-colored cardigan over your yellow sundress?”

When she lets out a short yelp at a bite, Daishou smiles against her skin.

“Plus, you make really pretty noises.”

While Daishou may have initially been a Keelback snake, he evolved into a Habu over time.

He felt like volleyball was going nowhere, each practice felt longer and more exhausting. Each game felt dull. Same plays, same tricks, same result. He wondered why winning so often felt like winning nothing at all. Did he love volleyball?

His dad sure loved volleyball. Each game that was on TV became all that his dad would talk about sometimes. Wearing jerseys and eating huge plates of yakitori on Sunday nights. Daishou’s father always would point at the screen, right when an outside hitter got a deep unreceivable kill spike, saying that's what should be plastered as a true athletic feat. To jump so high, to hit so hard that you became practically a bird.

A bird. His dad was like a bird. Not a crow, or an eagle, not even an owl. But a falcon, a peregrine falcon. One time, at the zoo, when Daishou was still small enough to sit on his dad’s shoulders, his dad whispered and told him to look at the leftmost tree branch within the cage. There it sat, the falcon. Preening at its wings and looking around one head movement at a time.

The fascination with birds was lost on Daishou. He preferred to watch the snakes, the way they slithered around, leaving no trails in the dirt. Wrapping around and around on branches. Even the way their tongues flitted out when they hissed. Sharp fangs get down into the meat of its prey.

“Stay with me for summer break.” He was picking at the orange peel, phone resting between his shoulder and his ear.

“I can’t.” She was lying in bed, typing away on one of her final essays for the year. The first year of university was almost over, and she was killing it.

“Yes, you can stop saying you can’t.” Daishou put a segment of the orange in his mouth, throwing away the peel. He sat down on his couch. His school year had finished a few weeks ago. His mom was out of the country for a case she had to investigate in Hong Kong. Having a hot-shot lawyer mother was nice, but it also meant long durations of staying in an empty house by himself.

There were only so many things to do alone. Tokyo was vibrant and perfect, but without her it was boring. No interesting conversations, no teasing, and no warmth.

She hesitated. She was hesitant. Hesitance was what all animals went through before going right into fight or flight. Daishou didn’t know what to do to bring her over from her school and back to his home. He remembered what his mom said about her trip.

“How about we go to Hong Kong, just for a month?”

“A trip like that is way too expensive.”

“Mom’s there already, her employer gave her a very large, very spacious penthouse to stay in while the lawsuit is still going on.” She was listening, and so he kept going. “I have some money saved for tickets.”

He had just attacked first, without provocation. Adding a new depth to their relationship.

Hong Kong was beautiful. The first night there, despite being riddled with sleep deprivation and jet lag, they went to a food market, trying everything they could get their hands on. Wonton noodles, dim sum, egg tarts.

The smoke from the grills floated around, mixing with the smoke from all the uncles' chain smoking and yelling at each other in Cantonese. Bright neon signs shouted at people to come into the stores. They sat in the open air outside, tightly packed into a table meant for one person. She was sipping some broth, and he was playing with her hair.

The company penthouse was probably worth more than Daishou’s school campus. High ceilings, marble floors. It reminded him of the house from Parasite, just without all the murder. His mom was on her laptop on a huge white couch in the main living area. When they entered, she exclaimed.

“Ru, you should’ve told me when your plane got in! I would’ve picked you both up.” Daishou’s mom was kissing his face and he was leaning away, but he let his mom smooth down his hair while she clicked her tongue against the roof of her disapprovingly.

“It's all good, we went and did a little exploring.” Daishou rubbed Y/n’s back, his thumb moving back and forth on her shoulder.

“Well, you must be tired. Your room is to the left, down that hall.”

She had begun unpacking, putting clothes in the chest of drawers. Daishou was taking a cold shower, scrubbing his hair with the shampoo she bought. She folded his clothes and put them away too. She flung herself onto the bed and soaked into the covers, a huge foam mattress with some bounce.

Her phone binged, a message from a friend back at school. Her friend talked about how jealous she was that she was out of the country with her boyfriend. Then her friend complained about her boyfriend, saying he never did anything out of the ordinary or interesting. She said that she knew too much about her boyfriend.

Did she know too much about her boyfriend? Daishou was open enough, telling her all the important details, except for the stories and memories from his last year in primary school before entering middle school. She knew he liked volleyball because of a story he told about his dad, but that was the only time Daishou had mentioned his dad. You had seen more photos as time passed, but it didn’t feel like enough. She shook the thought, if he wanted to share he would. No need to bring up things that weren’t relevant at the moment.

When he came out of the bathroom he had a towel around his waist and wet hair. He had cut it recently, so his bangs were no longer swept to the left side of his face, instead it was a short fringe across his forehead. His dimples were on full display.

“Hi, pretty lady.” He picked out some clothes, hanging them over his arm. “You look beautiful.”

He sweet talked too much and she was too tired to be clever in turn, “I’m sweaty, dirty, and have been wearing these sweatpants for over twenty-four hours.”

“Exactly, beautiful. If the pants really are bothering you I can take them off, you know, as a favor.” He slowly made his way to her, for a second she thought she saw a pair of rattlesnake fangs appear on his smile.

She scrambled out of bed and grabbed the pajamas she had set on the side table, going to the bathroom.

“Aw c’mon, let me live a little.”

“Not today Satan.”

“It’s Suguru.”

One moment they were holding hands in the Kowloon Walled City Park, the next, they were ducking for cover from the heavy rain. Daishou used his jacket to cover their heads, tucking her under his arm so that she would stay dry. He looked around and found a structure they could stand under, at least until they had a plan for what to do next.

Shaking off the jacket, grateful for the waterproof coating, he wrapped it around her. Rubbing her arms to try and generate some warmth.

“Try not to think too much about the cold, it’ll make it worse.” His teeth were slightly chattering, but he put on a grin, scrolling through his phone to check the weather and nearby restaurants they could escape to.

“That’s all pseudoscience. You should know that.”

“I’m not a science major.” Daishou found his money shot, calling for a ride using the extremely broken Cantonese that he had learned.

When they got into the taxi, she put Daishou’s jacket back on him, rubbing his arms the same way that he had done for her earlier.

The driver looked at the two of them in the rearview mirror, said some things in a language that was most definitely not Cantonese, and handed Daishou the GPS ready for him to enter their desired location.

“ภรรยาของคุณดูจะรักคุณมาก.” The driver smiles, turning on the meter in the car after taking the GPS back.

“ขอบคุณ.”

She elbowed him lightly, “What the heck?”

“Half-Thai right here,” Daishou raised his hand, “My dad immigrated to Japan with my grandparents when he was young though, so I don’t know much else besides a kindergarten understanding. My speaking ability is even worse.”

“How come I never knew this?

“You never asked.” Is that really what their relationship had come to? She didn’t ask so the information was never given?

The rest of the trip flew by, and then they were back on the plane.

“Tell me about your dad.” She wanted to know. And if he wasn’t going to give answers, she was going to ask for them.

“My dad was amazing.” Daishou smiled. One of those bright smiles that made you want to drop everything and only look at him. He talked about his dad for the rest of the flight home, even when she was fighting sleep, she kept listening to him. Daishou held her hand in his.

Graduations came and went.

Birthdays came and a pet snake stayed.

He remembered when she finally had gotten used to kissing, he did teach her about hickeys, and she was a fast learner. Almost too fast.

“Suguru, my turn.” She pushes him away lightly, leaning up on her forearms as the two of them laid on his bed.

“What?” He stutters out. Suddenly very self aware he folds his arms over his bare chest.

“Let me leave a hickey this time. C’mon, my turn Suguru.” It was as if he had melted, his face red and his ears burning. She flipped them over as she straddled his waist, before leaning down and softly brushing her lips over his jaw. Before trailing down and ghosting her tongue over a spot on his neck.

She keeps testing around, looking for the sweet spot. When she nips at a junction between his shoulder and neck he sucks in a deep breath. Pressing another kiss to the spot she opens her mouth and starts to suck at the skin, circling her tongue around the area.

When she pulls away, a small hickey starts to show on his neck. When she looks back to Daishou, he is covering his face and muttering incomprehensibly.

“Aw, I got you all mushy over a kiss.”

“It wasn’t just a kiss! It was a hickey!”

“You’re right, it was just one hickey, but I can do more if you want?”

“No! One is fine! I like one! One, um, one is a good number for today.”

Daishou felt like he found his person. Looking at her cooing at the snake through the glass terrarium was definitely something that made him glad that he had picked her that night. Those damn Nohebi afterparties, making him find his forever person.

[yeahspider]

hideaway 🕸️

Ve’s note - soft soft bestfriend to lovers hyunjin fluff . sfw but mentions of parental issues and neglect . just a lil drabble tbh very cute and comforting . not proofread ofc enjoy !! <3

“hyunjin is there any reason why you’re blowing up my phone at 4 in the morning .” your voice said into the phone heavy with sleep . you barely registered it was him calling you but no one else would call at this hour , and you’d only pick up for him anyway .

“always with the unnecessary questions darling just come open your window.” he says on the other end of the line no trace of sleep in his voice . you let out a silent groan . of course he’s outside your window . where else would he be .

“hyune you have to be quiet my parents are home and have to be up early.” you warned him to which he just scoffed .

“when am i ever loud ? hurry up this possum is staring at me menacingly .” and before you could question his weirdness , which you would not receive and explanation to anyways , he hung up . the dial tone snapping you into action .

cursing hyunjin in your head as you went to your window and opened it as quietly as you could . inch by inch until one inch was too much and the window pane let out a whine that had you cringing and him laughing .

“what happened to being quiet” he said as he slid his ways through your window with a practiced grace from years of experience . you didn’t even bother with a response as you shut your window behind him . turning around you see hyunjin already making himself comfortable in your bed . kicking his shoes off and snuggling under your covers .

“what are you doing here hyune . it’s early in the morning . the sun hasn’t even risen .” you say as you stare down at his form , fighting a smile off your face as your try to keep in your stern facade . but he saw right through it as always .

“what i’m not allowed to visit my best friend whenever i want to anymore ?” he said with mock offense as he threw himself up into a sitting position . he was always a rather dramatic person . no dull occasion with him . but just as he saw through him you could also see him . the way he looked tired and worn out . the fired tears under on his cheeks and the paleness of his lips . taking in his distressed state you wordlessly went to the kitchen and made him a glass of water as quietly as you could . making your way back to the room you saw his shoulders relax at your return . his posture loosening . you handed the water and he didn’t hesitate to gulp it down .

after a few seconds of silence he finished the drink and handed the glass back to you to put on your cabinet . you could put it away later .

“she left again” is all you said to him . and with a simple nod of his head the tears he had been holding since he stepped foot into your room fell . silent sobs racked his body as you slid into bed beside him . you weren’t the best at comforting people but this was hyunjin . he needed you . so you grabbed his frame and wrapped him in your arms as he clung to you . tears wetting your shirt as you soothes him the best you could .

a few minutes had passed and his breathing had slowed down along with his tears . you decided to readjusted as you hii fed him to sit between your legs , his back to your chest as you pushed his shoulder back . once he made contact with your he sunk into your embrace . you would never admit it to him but you loved having him in your arms .

“she just left y/n . packed up everything and disappeared . not even a note no goodbye no nothing .” your fingers stroked his hair as he collected his thoughts . you didn’t speak knowing he just needed to heard right now .

“how could she just leave . i’m her son y/n” hyunjin’s relationship with his mother was a strained one . that much you knew . after being friends since the sandbox this wasn’t the first time he had come to you seeking shelter from his mother . the neglect he was subjected to wasn’t unknown to you either . at lunch you shared your food , when he spent the night your parents always made him dinner and woke him up to breakfast . your protected each other , watched each other grow up . now young adults you still clung to one another .

“why am so unlovable y/n ? why does no one care ?” he said with a hiccuped breath . you placed a kiss to his forehead before speaking .

“you’re loved hyunjin . i care and i always will . that woman will never make you unlovable . you’re so sweet and genuine and hardworking hyune . you offer this world so much and i hate seeing the one who brought you into it cause you so much pain .” you say just above a whisper . but with a firmness that even had you shocked .

hyunjin turned to face you . your eyes connecting with his as he held your gaze . he looked like he was hesitating his next words as you saw his lips quirk up then move back into place . he looked down to where your hand was , and as you followed his gaze he wrapped your hand in his .

“you are my everything you know that right ? you’ve saved me more times than i can count . you ….you won’t leave me too .. will you ?” he said with a frown on his face . you wanted nothing more than to wipe it away . you could feel his apprehension as he played with the rings on your finger . one of which was a copper one he made for you on your 18th birthday . hyunjin never had much but he made sure to make sure you always had something that was his . the hand that wasn’t occupied in his made it’s way under his chin as you brought him up to match your level .

“i’d never leave you behind . you’re with me forever hyune .” you said as you cupped his face , thumb grazing his cheek as yo held his gaze . his eyes traced all over your face until they settled on your lips . without warning he placed his lips on yours ever so gently . it took you a minute to register he was kissing you until but after a second you returned the kiss . his lips soft as always molded with yours as all his fear melted away into your lips . and you swallowed them up willingly . hyunjin your best friend your home your shelter your hideaway .

when you separated a rosy flush took its place on his cheeks as he blushed . like he wasn’t the one that just initiated the first kiss the two have ever shared . you let out a soft laugh at his bashfulness as he hid himself in your neck .

“can i spend the night ?” he whispered in your ear as he before emerging from his hiding spot that was your hair .

“well seeming as you’ve already made yourself at home on my bed it only seems appropriate .” you say and just laughs as he lifts the blanket , inviting you to join him . as longs as you had each other everything would be okay . nothing could hurt you in your hideaway .

[anticidic]

SO SHALL THE RIVER OF TIME FLOW

Snow White!Dazai dreams a most peculiar dream about the Queen's magic mirror. He blows away the dust and makes a wish. About them. For a moment, he sees the silhouette of Prince!Chuuya appear from the darkness, and believes deep down that wishes really do come true. Then, he hears a crack. 492 words. Minor mentions of blood. Fairytale AU.

He stared at the mirror. Right before his very eyes stood a young man. Proud. Shoulders pulled back. Or was that a mirage? Because the longer Dazai looked, the less like himself he saw. And felt. The curls in his hair loosened and tangled into knots. That shine he worked so hard to maintain dulled to nothing, just like the fading light of the day. Gone was the crown perched atop his head—it never belonged there. He was no prince.

His fingers trembled as he reached out to touch the mirror. It was cool on contact, and all was silent. The reflection smiled back, lips chased and split down the middle. A bloody smile he forced through the pain. He's looked happier, Dazai thought, but this was an expression of someone desperately clinging to fragments of hope and happiness even as they fell from the cracks of his fingers.

Then, the sound of glass breaking. The same kind he heard back at the castle, far down the corridor and to the left when Mother dropped her crystal glass and screamed wordlessly. The anger that filtered through the halls and attached itself to the walls.

Now he looked at a shattered spiderweb split down the middle and to the sides. His reflection, too, broke. Four eyes stared back. A bleeding smile-frown melted down the length of the shards. The cracks were all there ever was.

And a ghost of a voice reached his ears, calling on the wind that blew through his hair: "Memories...Fading one by one..."

He felt the breeze through the holes in his clothes and inhaled the cold before exhaling the memory of warmth. A hand in his hair; not his own—he could never be so gentle to himself. His head on a lap.

Dazai woke with a start. He heard a tap on the window. The floorboards creaked with every step, and he pulled back the curtains to reveal the sunbeams filtering in.

Chuuya was the morning breath of fresh air Dazai got out of bed for. The very one he threw open his balcony doors to greedily breathe in because none of it was ever enough. And the sun warmed his cheeks the same way Chuuya's palms felt against his skin, cradling his face.

Looking into those eyes the way Dazai gazed across the horizon to where the glittering crest of waves waited—and called—from the beach, he found himself lost at sea. But Chuuya was that beacon in the dead of night bringing him back to land. He sank into a pair of arms and drowned in the overwhelming feeling of being alive and wanted. So unbelievably unbearable Dazai thought he was suffocating beneath it all because he had never known such tenderness in another person like he did the animals in the forest or the shining sun and clear sky.

The kindest. Chuuya was the kindest one of them all he'd ever met.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

When he was still living with his parents, Lambert would have given anything to have a Christmas like the ones on TV: The perfect tree, a loving father who would get mildly annoyed at the kids, but never angry and a whole bunch of presents. In the years following The Incident - with Christmas in various group homes being a bit of a non event - those spent under Vesemir's care came close, but - in a Christmas tradition of their own over the last twenty or so years - they were always met with disappointment from all parties at some point when Lambert either wouldn't or couldn't fit into the cookie cutter Perfect Family Christmas in the same way his brothers found so effortless (he still didn't think the old man had quite forgiven him for the first Christmas he could legally drink. He went barhopping with friends and left a puddle of vomit under the tree when he finally stumbled home early Christmas Eve morning). This year however was shaping up to be quite different for many reasons.

Lambert couldn't help but smirk to himself as he compared the decorations on the syrupy, Hallmark Christmas movie to the ones surrounding him. Their tiny, battery operated Christmas tree blinked at him cheerfully from the waist high bookcase they used as a marker to separate living room space from bedroom space, the ceiling was covered in the paperchains they'd sat making with Ciri last time they were babysitting after Aiden had found a huge pack of multicoloured craft paper on discount, the windows were covered in snowflakes in every colour of the rainbow made from the same stuff (which Lambert had found amusingly fitting, all things considered). Fairy lights had been a no-go unfortunately after an unexpected bill threw off their budget for the month, but maybe next year...

Sleepy snuffling and movement from the other side of the bookcase caught his attention and the smirk turned into a fond smile as Aiden emerged from under the covers and shuffled the five steps from the bed to the tiny kitchen area.

"Hey babe. Esk sent me home with a sandwich for you from lunch, it's in the fridge if you want it." Lambert called out, causing Aiden to grumble something and wave a hand in thanks and acknowledgement. Lambert turned his attention back to the TV, but didn't bother turning up the volume from the low murmur he'd set it at to avoid waking Aiden as he slept off a double shift at the bar; stumbling home in the early hours and briefly running into Lambert on the threshold as he was leaving for his own day at work with Vesemir and Eskel.

Aiden wordlessly handed him a mug of sachet hot chocolate and set his own on the coffee table before joining him on the couch, pressing into his side with a happy wiggle and a pleased hum as he took a bite of his sandwich. Extra cheese and extra relish - just how he liked it. They sat in silence for a few minutes while Aiden ate and Lambert sipped at his hot chocolate, one arm around Aiden's shoulder, his thumb stroking idly.

"Did you get a chance to talk to your dad about tonight?" Aiden asked as he dusted his hands free of crumbs.

"He was... surprisingly chill about it."

That was a conversation Lambert had been kind of dreading. It was tradition that the Lupeson kids and any partners (and kids of their own in Geralt's case) gathered at the family home Christmas Eve for a night of eating, drinking and wholesome family fun. He'd gone to Vesemir that morning to explain that Aiden and himself wished to be excused. He'd had a whole speech prepared about how they'd both saved for their apartment from the ground up - despite both Vesemir and Guxart offering to help with a deposit so they could get something better - and it was nothing personal, it was just after all the blood and sweat and crap they'd gone through together and individually to reach this point, they'd both come to the realisation the previous day that they just wanted to experience Christmas Eve in their own crappy little apartment. Just the two of them.

He'd been met with Vesemir's trademark mouth tilt and he'd gotten as far as "It's just that-" into his speech before the other stopped him with an "I understand lad. God knows neither of us ever thought this would be how things turned out for you." The easy acceptance had been a bit of a shock as was the back pat, "Enjoy it, you've worked hard enough for it. Make sure you're both around for midday tomorrow."

"Told you he wouldn't mind. I actually think things might improve between you two now you're not constantly in one another's space."

"Yeah?"

"Yup. Happened with Guxart and Axel. Now, what the bloody hell are we actually watching and why is that woman having a literal breakdown over a Christmas cake?"

The rest of the day passed more or less the same way. Drinking crappy hot chocolate and laughing at even crappier Christmas specials, snuggling under the blanket Lambert dragged from the bed once the temperature went down along with the sun and leaving their building only to grab takeout and treat themselves to a bottle of top shelf whiskey after Guxart dropped some cash into Aiden's account, saying it was a Christmas/housewarming gift and he'd try to visit after New Years.

"Think he'll ever take Ves up on his offer to spend Christmas over here?"

Aiden shook his head as he poured them both another measure, a couple of drops falling onto the blanket they'd spread out on the floor along with the booze and food earlier in a living room picnic, "Guxart hates traveling around the holidays. Plus, I don't think any of us would survive the sexual tension between them for a whole two days. Hey!" He scooted over until he was sat in Lambert's lap, shoving his phone in his face, "It's gone midnight." He said with a grin and a firm kiss, "Happy first apartment Christmas, Pup."

Lambert snorted, pulling the other further into his lap, "Really. That's what you're going with?"

"Humour me, please."

"Fine, fine. Happy first apartment Christmas, Kitten."

Lambert guided Aiden back into a slower, deeper kiss as footage from a midnight carol service somewhere started playing. Screw Hallmark. As far as he was concerned, this right here was the perfect Christmas.

[drunk-on-dk]

TRACK 3: TOUCH TANK | JOSHUA HONG (M)

Track 3 - TOUCH TANK // QUINNIE - playlist linked here

pairing: partner!joshua x fem!reader genre: smut (minors do not interact!), established relationship, moving in together w/c: ~1.7k Summary: Moving in with Joshua was like a breath of fresh air and warm linen.

Explicit Content - Minors DNI, Listeners 18+, NSFW Warnings Below

content warning: no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy; pet names (love); gentle(man) joshua; oral (f. receiving, nothing too crazy but a man's gotta eat!); this is pretty tame, lmk if I missed anything, also not well proofread tbh

a/n: i went through a bit of a writer's block on this and had to change the song, but this was a nice fun change of pace and I hope you all enjoy (:

"He's so pretty when he goes down on me Gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry He tells me he's gentle when he wants to be So I think he wants to be gentle with me"

The smell of fresh linen was almost suffocating, watching Joshua sort and fold your shared laundry made your heart pound in ways you never could have imagined. All you could do was praise yourself for cracking open a window earlier, the slight draft in your living room providing your brain with the oxygen you so badly needed.

“Y/N?” You’re knocked out of your daze when Joshua softly calls your name. His rosebud lips form a soft pout when he realizes you hadn’t heard anything he’s said for the last minute. You cringe slightly when you feel the slight ping of guilt in your chest, you hadn’t been listening to him nor were you helping with the laundry. Nevertheless, you respond with an apologetic hum and soft smile, plopping down next to him where he is sitting on the floor and folding a hand towel.

Cardboard boxes litter all corners of your living room, some are even stacked on the couches, and it’s almost an overwhelming sight. However, anything and everything is exciting when it comes to Joshua. Especially when these boxes contain both of your belongings, finally taking the next step in your relationship and moving into a shared apartment.

Admittedly, moving in with Joshua happened earlier in your relationship than you originally had intended for it to, but there was something different about your relationship with him. He was the perfect gentleman, always catering to your needs, but never overstepping. Honestly, you didn’t believe he was real at first, suspect of his behavior during your first few months of dating, but eventually coming to realize that it really was his true nature.

You spend the next couple of minutes helping Joshua finish the towels, organizing them into their respective piles and wordlessly shuffling through your apartment to store them in their designated closet.

The silence you two share is comfortable, the sound of the breeze and of cars passing by outside your window fills the space in a way that makes your heart swell. The toothy smile that Joshua flashes you as you rejoin him for the final stretch of laundry makes your heart feel like it might really explode.

Joshua smells like a mix of everything, fresh like the air and warm like the linens. His blue button-up is crisp out the laundry - only half the buttons are done up as if he lazily threw on the top - his damp, black hair falls messily onto his forehead, unbothered to style it after spending most of the afternoon moving boxes and testing out the new shower for the first time.

Sensing that your head is in the clouds again, Joshua takes this chance to shake out the bedsheet above both your heads, encapsulating both of you under the thin fabric and making you squeal in surprise.

“Shua!” You shriek when he grabs your ankles, tugging your body closer to his until your bottom hits where his legs are crossed. In one swift movement, he lifts you up onto his lap so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, one of his solid arms holds you close whilst the other keeps the bedsheet tented above the both of you. You’re a giggling mess, knowing that your hair is standing up in all directions from the static, and Joshua’s fingers dig into a ticklish spot on your waist. “Be gentle! You’re going to tear my legs off!”

It’s almost dreamlike, the diffused lighting from white linen that covers you both makes Joshua look prettier than ever, and it takes your breath away once you truly soak in how stunning he is even in this proximity.

His melodic laugh continues to buzz through air as he nuzzles his nose adoringly against yours, his chin jutting out to catch your bottom lip between his teeth almost teasingly before letting go. “I’m gentle when I want to be, love.”

It’s impossible to hide the gasp that escapes your throat, your heart dropping right to your core, and you’re unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Joshua welcomes your plush lips against his, smirking slightly because he got exactly what he wanted and firmly cupping your cheeks to keep you close.

The air gets hotter beneath the bedsheet, thickening with desire as you two devour each other, kisses now becoming impatient as your hips roll languidly against his. The wet spot in your panties is becoming more obvious, your arousal only growing when Joshua’s tongue slips past your lips, tasting you and battling for complete dominance. You’re greedy, but Joshua can be even greedier.

Joshua lets out a hoarse groan when you grind into him a bit harder, tossing the linen sheet from over your head and repositioning you on the ground where the sheet had crumpled.

“God,” he sighs, looking down at your figure laid out on the ground, he’s still nestled between your legs, but now he has better control from where he is kneeling between you. “So fucking beautiful, Y/N. Can’t believe I’m so lucky.”

“I’m lucky too,” you gasp, your words falling short when his large hands run down your bare thighs, his thick fingers slip under the hem of your shorts and send a spark of heat to your core. He toys with the fabric slightly before he slowly peels them down your legs, discarding the flimsy fabric and scoffing when he sees the darkened patch on your cotton panties.

“Is that so, love?” He teases, his digits rubbing over the damp fabric and making you keen into his touch. The pressure is so light, unlike his usual roughness in the bedroom. Even if he was a gentleman, that didn’t always translate between the sheets.

“So lucky,” you whine when his fingers slip away, no longer providing your throbbing clit with any sense of relief. “Please, Shua, I need you.”

“Need me? Want me to be gentle with you?” He taunts, fingers looping around the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs even slower than he did with your shorts. He’s breathing you in, loving the aroma that’s purely you when you’re finally fully exposed to him.

“Anything,” you mewl, moaning in delight as you watch him descend between the valley of your legs, lips kissing your inner thigh and curious eyes darting up to yours. It’s sinful how he watches your reaction, eyes never leaving yours as he nibbles and trails kisses closer towards your core, broad hands keeping your hips flush against the hard ground.

It feels like ages until Joshua reaches where you need him the most, your chest rising and falling in anticipation until his tender lips reach your clit, suckling experimentally at the bud. You practically cry out at the stimulation, back arching in bliss when he pushes his tongue against your clit and suckles even harsher.

You know he’s satisfied by the way he chuckles against you, eyes lighting up as he watches your face contort in pleasure, small hands grabbing roughly at his hair to encourage him to keep going.

He obliges, tongue licking between your folds and dipping into your sweet nectar. You’re so damn delicious, he’s groaning into your pussy before running his tongue back up to your clit. No longer is he holding your hips down, his hands only gently run up and down your thighs and rubbing the skin soothingly.

Joshua lets you rut your hips against his face, lapping up what he can before his tongue dives back between your walls, using the muscle to slowly fuck your tight hole with all the intention in the world.

When you finally pry your eyes back open, you watch as Joshua continues to lick at your cunt, dark eyes reconnecting with yours and making you babble out praises. It’s so messy, but he looks so fucking pretty. You can’t help but compliment the man who is making you feel this good with just his tongue.

He works expertly, tongue circling deep inside of you as his nose presses against your clit, breathing in your scent and moaning into your walls as he works you closer to your climax. It doesn’t take long for your walls to tighten, your lower abdomin tightening up so much that your muscles begin to quake from the fatigue.

Joshua nuzzles deeper into you, absolutely consumed by the way you taste and how you react, pushing your sopping heat harder into his face. You’re just so soft and sweet that he swears could do this for ages. Joshua almost wishes you weren’t so close, but he just can’t wait for you to fall apart on his face.  

His fervor is clear as his tongue shallowly fucks into you, licking back up to your clit and swirling wildly over the bud. This is enough to send you over the edge, walls spasming around nothing but feeling an overwhelming sense of relief as you gush with pleasure. Joshua doesn’t waste a single drop of you, drinking you up as if he was the thirstiest man alive. Admittedly, he had made a bit of goal to not let any of your slick get on the fresh sheets, but he had lost sight of that long ago.

Satisfied, Joshua pulls away when your hips begin to buck from the overstimulation, leaning over your tired form and gently kissing your lips. You shiver upon tasting yourself on him, leaning into his touch as he brushes his hands through your matted hair as he pulls away with a soft smile.

“Why don’t you take a nap, love?” He hums, not allowing for any argument as you begin to protest – God, did you want to suck him off – but there was no sense in arguing when it came to Joshua.

You oblige, just this once, but only because the way he wrapped the linens around your body like a burrito after redressing your bottom half was too endearing to protest.  So was the way he created a makeshift pillow out of a throw blanket, placing the plush fabric beneath your head and coaxing you to nap whilst he finally finished up the laundry.

When Joshua wakes you up for dinner, you truly realize just how lucky you are, the thought almost knocking the wind out of your lungs completely. Joshua thinks the same as you stare back at him with the most adoring eyes.

Now all you can think about is how breathtaking it will be to wake up to him every day.

[justporo]

A Night of Song and Laughter (Final Part)

Would you look at that - I actually finished faster than I thought I would (certainly not a thing that would be admirable in all contexts, but anyway)

In this final part, Astarion have a nice (and rather) long heart-to-heart by playing a game of question for question - while they are butt naked in their bed. Do with that info what you will.

This part is probably all over the place and very rambly, but I wanted to end with something sweet. So please enjoy and thank you all for staying with me through this story!

Song choice (especially for the very end): T=0 - Tall Ships

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

The sun was well up in the sky by now – so thank the Gods for the thick brocade curtains you had placed on every one of the tall windows.

You were laying on the gigantic bed – butt naked still and all your limbs spread out. Astarion mimicked you next to you although he was missing a few things to match you: the glistening sheen of sweat on his skin for example or the full body flush. Also, he wasn’t breathing as heavily as you were.

“Holy hells”, you whispered silently between deep gasps for air. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to move a single muscle tomorrow. I don’t think I can now.” Astarion chuckled beside you and rolled on his side to watch you struggle. “Love, if you are truly already giving up, we really need to work on your stamina. I was merely starting to enjoy myself”, the elf said while leaning his head on his propped up arm and pursed his lips. You only moved your eyes to give him a look saying “you got to be kidding me” and then a really hearty yawn overcame you. You felt so pleasingly exhausted in a way that could only be caused by a night full of events that had been uncalled for and lots of really deeply satisfying sex.

“Well, then, if another go is out of the question how about we kill the rest of the wine, I might even settle for some talking or cuddling if that’s all you are able to for now.”

You flopped around to get closer to him until you were on your side, mirroring his languid pose. “Both!”, you demanded. So Astarion chuckled wordlessly and pulled you closer until you were laying in his arms. Then he leaned back just a little to allow you to actually snuggle up to his chest which you gratefully did. And then to really lock in the deal you stretched one of your slender legs to swing it over and tangle it with his.

“Gods, look how adorable we are – I might start to retch right on the spot”, Astarion said and made a face as if he were disgusted by what was happening. “You’re enjoying this”, you retorted and grabbed his face to give him a big smooch. He scrunched up his nose afterwards: “Debatable.” But you could hear the grin in his voice.

You laid there for several minutes – not talking, just in comfortable and companionable silence and held each other. You were just resting your eyes when Astarion shifted to grab the goblet of wine from next to the bed and asked: “So, what do you want to talk about, sweetheart?” He took a big swig from the wine and looked down at you askingly. You took the goblet from his hand and drank to gain a few more moments – because frankly, the night had left you empty and your mind was just blank, only filled with content buzzing.

“Talking also out for the night, love? My, my, haven’t I worked you a little too hard, hm?”, Astarion cheerfully chimed and laughed. You wanted to whack him but your hand was just so… tired. “Well then, how about… I ask you, say, five questions and you ask me five in return.” “So like I would cast ‘Speak to the Dead’ on you”, you threw in with a sly grin earning you a truly unamused stare from the vampire. “What?”, you said when he kept throwing you a death glare, finally regaining some of your wits. “I’m dead serious”, you said with another grin. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t.” You stared at each other in silence. “Can’t argue with that impeccable logic, I guess.” More silence. “Alright, like what questions were you thinking?”, you finally said to put Astarion out of his misery.

“I don’t know, could be anything, really. Something you always wanted to know about me, what I think is your most annoying habit or what my favourite colour is or what the meaning of life might be. Although” – and here he took the chalice with wine from your hand which you had forgotten you were still holding – “if you were to ask the last one we’d might need several more bottles of wine, some good few hours and also I might wanted to throw myself down a bridge afterwards.” He laughed with just a tinge of hysteria in it and took another sip of wine as if to demonstrate that he’d need it. “Please, don’t ask me what the meaning of life is”, he pleaded and made you laugh.

“So, what’s your favourite colour?”, you asked. Astarion pursed his lips at you: “That’s your actual first question?” “Yes… although I could probably guess it already.” “Can you now?” “It’s red, isn’t it?” Astarion’s mouth straightened into a line: “You are really spoiling it like this.”

“I’m really exhausted, I’m sorry, love”, you replied and leaned in to kiss him. “Better you go first – answering will be easier I feel like and then I’ll probably can roll better with it. But first -”, you said and lifted your hand to silence the vampire that had already opened his mouth to start asking “is red really your favourite colour? Because I actually need to know now.” Astarion’s face softened: “Yes, it is.” “Bit cliché for a vampire, don’t you think?” “It has always been red, love, even before I became a vampire.” That shut you right up – moments when Astarion offered up details from his life before he was turned were indeed very rare.

“Alright, my turn then!”, Astarion answered playfully and took a swig of the remaining wine than put the goblet down and started to oddly fidget. Was he – nervous?

You sat up a little because you were suddenly convinced that he wouldn’t just ask about your favourite kind of cheese or what the name of your childhood pet was. “I’ve been wondering, for some time now, actually, when – you know – I confessed to you that I had certain feelings towards you… You pretty much immediately – how do I put this – made clear that the feelings were mutual. Soo, naturally I was wondering when it was, that you had the realisation that you were… catching feelings for me?”

The way he had rambled out the question, kept fidgeting his hands and just the sincere and even kind of soft, even though not shy, tone in his voice made your heart immediately melt and evaporate completely. You reached out your hand and cupped his cheek, your thumb softly caressing his face. “So, your question is when I realised I was head over heels and I knew there could never be anybody else?”, you offered warmly and grinned at him openly. That had Astarion regain his usual cockiness. He smirked at you and looked at you through his lashes: “Well, if you want to put it like that…”

You rolled onto your back and started to remember how it had been like. It came quickly and easily – this was an easy question to answer and you were more than happy to enlighten him.

“To be honest – I at least had a huge crush on you from the very beginning – well, almost: the whole threatening me with a knife was not a turn-on.” Astarion made a disappointed ‘aww’ but kept listening. When you threw him a sideways glance you saw that he was hanging on your lips. “You were so charming and honestly the flattery, even though I figured that it must be idle chit-chat… What can I say, it worked on me. Maybe because I was desperate – and scared. Maybe, probably, because I never experienced something like this. I didn’t exactly grow up in circumstances where men – or women for that matter – would come and court me. And I never had someone, like” – you helplessly flailed your hand at Astarion – “you give me more than a simple onceover.” From the corner of your eye you could see how Astarion’s demeanour changed, but now you had to keep talking or you throat might close up.

“But when it really hit me, was after the first night we spent together. Not because of the sex – although that had also been the best I’d ever had up to that point, but because I woke up and saw you standing there, bathing in the sun light. And I saw your scars. And when I asked you about them you opened up the door to let me in, just the tiniest bit. That’s when I realised there was so much more to you then just the armour of sarcasm and flirtatious behaviour and violent urges. And I just wanted to…” – your eyes felt dangerously wet – “I just wanted for you to let me in, so I could get to know you and comfort you and stop what hurt you.”

You took a deep breath in after finishing and realised you had given quite the speech. You looked at Astarion while you felt a single treacherous tear ran over your cheek. He looked at you with a range of emotions swirling in his ruby eyes – love, admiration, even shock. He reached out to softly swipe away the tear from your face.

“I…”, he started but immediately broke off again. He took a few moments, then tried again, while carefully holding your face: “I wanted to say that I don’t know what to say, but that’s not true. Rather that there’s too much to put into words.” His thumb over your cheek, making sure there were no more tears coming.

After a small cough to clear up his throat, Astarion continued: “I’ll settle for this: I love you – deeply – and in a way I never thought I could love anything and I don’t know what I could’ve possibly done to deserve this or you but I hope that I can live up to it some day.”

Never mind his sweet, soft touches, but your tears kept coming, happy tears though. Never would you have hoped that Astarion could come this far in so little time and be so open and sincere with you. But here he was.

You sniffled and started to rub the streams of tears off your face with your hands when Astarion pulled you in and kissed you deeply until you had calmed down again.

“So”, you sniffled again “do you want to ask your other four questions and rip my damn heart out while you’re at it or are we finally done for the night?”

Astarion kept holding you for a moment longer than let go of you to just get enough space between you to be able to look at you better. He reached out again though to softly ruffle your hair. “Actually, it’s your turn, sweetheart, so do your worst, I assume?”, he said a bit hesitantly. “We don’t have to keep going, if you’d rather not.” “No, I want to keep going, but first I think it’s only fair that you tell me as well – since you made me cry and all”, you assured him and give him a small pout.

“You mean, when I first realised that I was falling for you?” You nodded. Astarion smiled at you and turned so he laid on his back, looking at the ceiling while he spoke. Talking about his real genuine feelings was still something that was hard for him – but you appreciated a lot that he tried.

“Do you remember when I came onto you that evening at camp and asked you to come to my bed again?” “Of course, I remember, I tried so desperately to be cool about it.” To that Astarion looked at you and grinned broadly: “Yet you so desperately weren’t.” Damn this man! You sluggishly swung to punch at his smirking face but Astarion easily caught your hand and held on to it, starting to play with and look at your fingers. “I still knew you were full of shit when you threw all your cheesy practiced lines at me.” “Still worked, didn’t it? And I was actually having so much fun with our little back and forth. Up until the end when I said these three little words.”

Astarion kept playing with your fingers but threw you a glance: “Because afterwards I realised that there might’ve been more truth in it than I thought and that I might’ve gotten in it over my head. And that scared me.” You squeezed his hand back reassuringly. And he threw you a loving glance before he grabbed your fingers and bit into them. “Now, your turn, my love”, he said as if nothing had happened while you yelped at him. “Ouw, what the hells was that for?” “Revenge?”, he answered and lifted his hand on which you could still the bitemarks you’d left there, “Assert dominance that I’m the one biting in this relationship?” You looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He shrugged and gave your fingers a kiss, then rolled back on his side to face you. “I’m waiting for a question, love.” “Impulsive much?” “That’s a question you can answer yourself, darling.”

Alright, he wanted a question and there was actually one thing you had wanted to know -  as well – for quite some time. A stupid little thing that had kept nagging you.

“Okay, I also have a thing that I wanted to know for some time. But it’s stupid really – such an unimportant little detail tha…” “Just ask the question, love.”

You took in a deep breath: “Well, I know you love me and I know you must be enjoying what we have, I mean, physically also – at least I’m ninety-five percent sure that you are. But I was asking myself if the first time we slept together… was it bad – for you?” For the last part you couldn’t take to hold his gaze.

Astarion seemed positively outraged. “My heart – first of all, why would you even think that I’m not enjoying myself with you?” “Well, as I said I’m mostly…” “Apparently five percent say you think differently. Why?” His voice was actually angry and as you looked at him his brows were deeply furrowed. You hesitated to answer but finally gave up with a sigh: “It’s just… You have so much more experience and I don’t have that and maybe I was worrying that you might get bored or something… or that it wasn’t enough.” “Excuse me, but did I look bored to you when you completely obliterated me like an hour ago?”

Astarion’s voice was rising while dramatically gesticulating. His genuine rage at you seemingly not believing that he was having as much fun in the sheets with you as the other way around and just the way he made a dramatic scene about it finally brought back your giggles.

“Well, I don’t know you can be a convincing actor?” “Are you accusing me, that I’ve been faking it? Because: how would that even work anatomically for men?”, Astarion almost shouted while his voice jumped up several octaves.

That broke you: you broke down laughing while the vampire kept fuming. „My love, I am positive you would have noticed, had I been faking a climax, hence there would have been… missing evidence, so to speak… Also, what we have is different - I would have told you had it not been enjoyable.“

“No okay, I’m sorry, I was messing with you for the last part”, you blushed and laughed. Astarion was not calmed down though. “I’ll show you right now how much I am enjoying myself with you if that’s what it takes”, he said through gritted teeth. You snuggled up closely against your vampire again: “No, point made, Astarion, I believe you. Now answer my damn question.”

Astarion sighed defeatedly but wrapped his arms around you again. “I also enjoyed the very first night we ever spent together. I might have not noticed it back then but it was different with you from the beginning – despite the shameful ulterior motives I had back then. So, there you go.” You hummed contentedly, then lifted your head a little to look up into his eyes: “Has someone ever faked it being with you?” That had definitely been the wrong thing to say to calm Astarion down. His eyebrow twitched in annoyed manner and he pursed his lips at you. “Not to my knowledge”, he said slowly. You cackled a bit at his wounded ego. But he recovered quickly – after all he had so much of it.

“So can we get past this topic and move on?”, he asked dryly. “So, that’s your second question?”, you replied. “I’m going to throw you of a cliff, you insolent little thing.” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep”, you kept teasing which made Astarion roll away from you and bury his face in his hands. You giggled hysterically until you had calmed down after a few moments.

“Okay, listen, I’m done and I’m sorry – this night was just too long and too much.”

“I know it was”, Astarion replied while lifting his hands off his face while still laying on his back. “So, if I may, I have my second question for you.” He looked at you and went on when you nodded in approval.

“What do you think is the most stupid thing you’ve ever done?” “Hm, not taking in anything that happened in the last months I assume?” Astarion hummed in agreement.

“Well, when I was a kid on the streets I met a group of other homeless children – all boys. And I was desperate to join their group because I really needed some company and some safety, but they wouldn’t let me because I was a girl.” “How cruel”, Astarion commented with a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I told them I would do anything to let me join so they dared me to jump off of on of these very tall towers at the Gray Harbour – and I did.” Thinking of this particular memory filled you with sorrow – so you rolled onto your back also and stared off into the distance. Astarion’s mouth had opened in shock and his eyes had filled with sadness at your confession. “How old were you?”, he asked softly. “Like nine.” „Gods“, he whispered.

But you didn’t want to dwell on hurtful memories. You spent a few moments thinking about your next question and then decided to sit up in the bed to start changing the mood.

“My turn again”, you exclaimed. “Hit me”, Astarion replied. “What’s a useless skill that you have and love?”

At that the vampire’s eyebrows shot up. “So much for a sudden change in mood”, he said but you could see he was grateful  to turn to more light-hearted matters. “Do you have a coin by any chance?” “A coin?”, you repeated in a confused manner.

Astarion was already up and walking over to where he had put his clothes over a chair earlier in the night. “Yes, I thought a demonstration would answer this question far better than just words”, he said while rummaging through his pant pockets.

“Aha”, he exclaimed as he produced a single gold coin and came back over to the bed – not without winking at you playfully. “You’re not going to do a magic trick, are you?” “Please, my name isn’t Gale”, the elf sneered as he sat back down on the bed, on your site now, where you had taken a cross-legged position and were curiously awaiting your partner’s hidden talent.

“Ready?”, Astarion asked with an enticing tone. You nodded and looked intently at him to go ahead. Then the vampire flicked the coin into the air with his thumb – quite high – and let it land perfectly on the back of his hand where he let it wander quickly and smoothly over the knuckles of his fingers. Back and forth and forth and back, then he flicked it up again and caught it between his index and middle finger with a soft “tada”.

You were in awe. “No way, you can do that? That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to be able to too”, you happily praised him and applauded him. “Then let me show you how it’s done”, Astarion cheerfully offered after a small gracious bow.

You spent quite some time then trying to mirror the vampire’s nonchalant moves while he kept explaining and demonstrating how to do the trick. But it seemed you didn’t have a knack for that particular little skill. “You make it look so easy”, you pouted at him at what must’ve been your hundredth try at letting the coin wander over the back of your hand instead of it simply sliding off. “I had two hundred years to perfect it, love. You’ll get there eventually”, Astarion replied and gave you a quick peck. He was being nice and gracious but somehow you had difficulty imagining that he had been just as bad as you in the beginning.

“Alright, I like this idea, so I got my next question for you. Besides this little feat, what would be a skill you would like to pick up, my love?”, Astarion said and fully climbed on the bed again, placing his back against the headboard and then pulling you onto his lap.

“Oh, that’s easy! I’d really like to play an instrument”, you immediately answered. The elf nodded approvingly at you while he held you: “Do you have a specific one in mind?” “Hmm – I guess the lute although I really can’t picture myself sitting down trying to learn it.” “I think, that would be very endearing actually.” You smiled at him. “Maybe”, he continued and cupped your cheek “if you also took up singing, you could my little nightingale.” That made you chuckle but you simply leaned into his touch and closed your eyes a little.

“You are not dozing off on me, are you?” You jolted upwards again: “No! I’m here and it’s my turn!” You had slouched tremendously and were almost laying down in his arms. You thought for a while.

“Hmm, I have another one but it might be quite the mood change again.” “Just ask, love.”

And so you did: “I know you have openly talked about having women and men before in your bed, but I was asking myself – was that of your own volition or…” You didn’t finish the question but knowing Astarion would catch your meaning nonetheless. “I’ve had men and women, yes, or sometimes people that wouldn’t categorise themselves as either.” He shrugged while you carefully listened. “But that was at least my choice and wasn’t something forced onto me against my nature.” “So – if you don’t care about gender what is it that makes you attracted to people?” Astarion cocked his head and looked at you with these sharp red eyes: “Certain people are just beautiful and enticing to me – because they’re just physically attractive to me, because of how proudly they hold their head, because of how smart and witty they are, because of how caring and kind they are. And yes, before you ask: I am talking about you, my love. Because of that and many more possible things.” You felt yourself blush at his confession and his compliments and also felt gratefulness for how openly he talked about himself.

“Does that… bother you? That I’m… pretty open when it comes to attraction?”, Astarion asked a bit hesitantly, his ruby eyes never leaving yours. You immediately and forcefully shook your head: “No, not at all! I was just curious to know how it is for you.”  You leaned into him more and hugged him tightly. “I love how you are such an open-minded person in general. In fact, it’s one of your most admirable qualities, I’d never want that to change.”

“Thank you”, he whispered in answer to that silently and held on to you in comfortable silence.

“Speaking of which”, he said after several heartbeats “is there something you would actually like to change about me? The obvious thing with the vampirism aside, I mean.”

You kept hugging him while you answered: “Your scars. I’d love to take them off your body. Just make you forget they ever existed.” You softly let your hands wander onto his back, immediately finding the ridges of the atrocity Cazador had forced upon him. Your fingertips wander over them, the thought of the pain it must have caused Astarion, both physically and mentally, almost made you tear up again.

You heard Astarion let out a deep breath while he mirrored your touches and rubbed small circles on your back. “I don’t even know what to say to that really other than: I fear they are just part of me now but at least Cazador’s dead now and I won’t have to fear ending up being a token for a prize exchange anymore.”

You lifted your head up. “So, nothing left to fear anymore, right?”, you said in a half-hearted attempt to not let the mood sink again. But Astarion barked a desperate short laugh at that. “If it only were that easy, darling, but I fear as it stands I have more to fear than before.” You throw him a confused look while his hands kept caressing your back gently.

“Well, now I actually have something to lose”, he said and leaned his forehead to yours. When the meaning settled in your heart dropped but filled with warmth simultaneously. “Somebody could hurt you or take you away from me, you could become sick – or you could simply decide you don’t want to be with me anymore.” Your eyes widened while his glazed over with the last sentence. You moved to cup his face with both hands: “The other stuff maybe – but I’ll always be with you. I’ll always want to be with you! Don’t say shit like that, Astarion. I love you so much, you can’t imagine!” You softly shook his face to get some sense into the man. You started smothering him with kisses while repeating over and over what you had said. And you didn’t stop until the vampire was laughing again and his eyes had filled with warmth.

“Tell me then”, he said while holding your hand that was still cradling his face. “Last question: how much do you love me?”

Your mind started racing trying to find ways to put it into words. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment to just feel. Feel how your love for Astarion filled you, heart, body and soul, until there was nothing else.

“I love you so much, I would give up everything for you, if only it meant I could still be with you. I would burn this whole world down if it meant, I could keep you safe. I would walk with you to the end of the universe if it was what you needed to be happy. And if I ever where to leave this earthly world behind, I believe my soul would find you again – and again and again – because I’m half and only ever whole with you.”

You stare into his widening red eyes, trying to convey to him if only with a fraction how deeply you feel for him. To show him that he’s at the very core of your own being. And that he is the only truth.

And as Astarion was taking it in, he held you, still not completely understanding – but he had forever then, to figure it out, didn’t he?

And so he kissed you and pulled you close to him as you both softly leaned down onto the sheets. The bed under you feeling threateningly soft. But you kept kissing him and touching him until you finally slid into your dreams – and hoped for another night tomorrow to hopefully do it all over again.

----- The End

Tags: @daedriclys @angelofthorr @starved-kitten

Note: Are you still here? Then let me thank you again for staying with me through this story. I enjoyed writing every moment of it and I loved it even more for all the support and love I got for it - even though I wouldn't have imagined it. This all might sound very dramatic but it's been quite some time since I've last felt truly inspired to create something and that means a lot to me. This is also the longest piece of fiction I've written (to date). But enough rambling, just: thanks!

And I'll hope I'll see you again in another story!