#and they just wind up companions for the most part

[exitstageleft-pursuedbyabear]

Mary Shelly Eat Your Heart Out

Rating: Explicit

Fandoms: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game)

Relationship: Rook/Emmrich Volkarin

Characters: Rook (Dragon Age) Emmrich VolkarinOriginal Elf Character(s) (Dragon Age)Original CharactersOriginal Non-Binary Character

Additional Tags: Rough Oral Sex, gratuitous making out, Age difference, first time together

Summary:

A romantic date in the Necropolis's memorial gardens escalates to rough oral sex against what could potentially be a grave or just monument of two skeletal lovers. Either way, it's quite fitting.

This is a companion piece to the last part of this series, Would you still have me?. As usual this can be read stand alone, the only context you need is that this is set in the fade to black of the Arrangments companion quest.

Notes:

Hello!

Welcome, or welcome back, to Love To Oblivion!

A non linear Emmrook series I post whenever I yearn for that old man.

Rook (Talin Aldwir) uses any pronouns and is a veil jumper mage (spirit healer and entropy), they are 21 to 26 years of age.

This is a direct continuation of Would You Still Have Me but can be read as stand alone.

The title of this fic in reference the Mary Shelly, author of Frankenstien, loosing her virginity of her parent's grave.

As usual, this has been beta read but my brain is broken (neurological disability) so there may still be some errors.

Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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Emmrich planned to be a gentleman.

He was, in fact, a gentleman. Polite and courteous, considerate and refined in all things. He prided himself on it. And when it came to wooing a paramour, he carried the same grace. Oh, sure he was no stranger to more... rough sensibilities. He'd had many experiences in his time and in certain contexts there was appeal to breaking his usual, respectful demeanour. But first dates, if you could consider this one, were for romance. Most of the time, anyway. He *was* young, once.

And oh does he feel young again, with Rook's mouth on his. He began to feel a suppressed hunger within them the second time they kissed that evening, and perhaps he should blame himself for the tangle they have ended up in. Rook kissed like they were afraid he was going to disappear, careful and closed mouthed as if not to scare him away. Emmrich had moved his hand to the back of their head and bit gently on their bottom lip, imploring them to let him in, and with a soft moan, they did. It was then he felt something *dangerous* bubbling beneath the surface.

Their tongues met, Rook's hand slid down to the small of his back, and they pulled him in closer. Warm bodies pressing together like they could phase into eachother.

As the kiss deepened, Rook gripped his shirt tight. He had them pressed against the stone of the lover's monument. It didn't escape his notice how his position and height left Rook nearly to his mercy.

One part of Emmrich's brain deciding to keep that in mind, so he did not overwhelm them or accidentally pressure them to continue. The other part, the burning fire in the pit of his stomach, relished the feeling.

It is now that the man feels he may have underestimated that surfacing hunger. He moves to step away from the kiss. To pet Rook's hair and make their way back to the lighthouse. Maybe have some tea next to the fire together and hear about the exploits of their friends that day.

Instead, a slight growl emerges from Rook's throat. It surprises him, a quieter version of the one he's heard them make right before the tides of battle turn in their favour, but no less vicious. It sends blood shooting downwards.

The elf's grip on the back of his shirt tightens as they surge forwards, recapturing his lips and knocking the breath out of him. The gates have been unlocked, all caution thrown to wind.

Rook is starving.

Emmrich pushes them back up against the stone, using the slight ledge to help lift them off the ground. It's the most wonderful sound when his leg slips between theirs. The hand not on his back clawing at hsi his shoulder, and damn it to the Abyss why does he wear so many layers.

Emmrich feels the struggle inside him. The rational, collected, smart part of him that is screaming at him to stop. This is slipping out of his control far too quickly, his plans shattering inbetween Rook's teeth. By the spirits they're so much younger than you, This is too soon, you're in the memorial gardens!

It's being steadily drowned out by the rushing in his ears.

He wants to *devour*.

A deep moan surfaces from the back of Rook's throat, as they can't help but grind on the leg holding them up against the monument. Emmrich's own hips purposefully still despite the desperate need fully aflame within him. He continues to have decorum, even with Rook's noises steadily chipping it away.

He parts their lips, enjoying the site of the dark green paint smudged out of place. Their pupils are blown dark and they pout at this new distance between the two of them. Rook moves to fill the gap but Emmrich puts a firm hand on their chest, pushing them back and holding them in place. He drinks in the reaction, a deeper blush on their already rouge darkened skin. A wiggle of their hips, an indignant squeak. Oh he is finding it so difficult to hang onto sensibility.

It takes him a moment longer than he anticipated to get ahold of himself, and Rook begins to push back against his hand. Not enough to break his grip, they aren't even trying. They're baiting him, he presses down harder.

"Rude!" They say with another pout, another wiggle. This time moving their own leg to rub against him. He gasps at the desperately sought friction, Rook grins. Their eyes sparkle with mischief.

He is going to *ruin them*.

Emmrich nips at their chin gently, begins to place kisses across their jaw, illiciting a pleasant hum from his lover. In the soft space between their jaw and their ear, he nips again and Rook's sharp breath is followed by giggles.

"You can go harder than that, love"

Ah, he had a feeling.

'"Patience, darling" smooth, dripping with desire and promise. He kisses down their neck, relishing in the sweet music they make. Rook may be his favourite instrument to play.

Emmrich's kisses turn to sharp little bites, canines catching on loose skin.

His instrument sings in response, urging him to bite down harde.

Their hands fly up to his hair, gently pulling at him. He stops.

"D-down. Under the collar" It's breathless, the air growing shallow the more it hurts. Something deep within him twirls at the thought. He obliges, suddenly thankful for rooks open collar, as much as he usually curses it for the temptation it brings.

Emmrich pulls the cloth open further, eyes focused on the tender part where their neck meets their shoulder. The skin is lighter here, ashier where it's shaded from the Rivain sun. He kisses it first, lovingly.

Cherishing how perfect it is.

Rook whines above him, one leg hooking around him. It pulls them closer together, already practically melded to eachothers bodies. The additional contact nearly shuts his brain off and he bites down. Hard.

The younger nearly sees stars. Euphoria mixed with dull pain, flooding their nervous system. Emmrich's mouth on their neck, warm body weight pressing them against cool stone. It's perfect, he's perfect. They feel as if he's not gotten enough appreciation for that fact.

A gentle kiss over bruised skin,

"I think I may have left a mark", Emmrich says after his mouth has left them. Their foreheads are pressed together now, gazes boreing into eachother. They need him more they've needed anything else before. With brave spark, Rook moves one hand to cup him, careful with the pressure. Emmrich fails to bite back a moan.

'"H- Rook~" falls from his lips, tone nothing like they've heard before. Rook loves it.

"Is this ok?"

"Y- Yes. Yes of course it is, dear, but if yo-"

Rook shuts him up with a kiss, biting his bottom lip, inviting themselves in. No, none of that. They've never been sure of anything in their life. Any action they take riddled with 'what ifs' And doubt. But this? Emmrich against them, writhing under their touch? They want more, they *more* and they know it.

It's nearly the hardest thing they've ever done to push him away, but needs must. Emmrich's hands move to their hips, careful to keep his distance, resolve waning by every second. He thinks this is it, Rook has taken the ball from his court and the end approaches. Then he is spun around, back against the Lover's statue.

And Rook is on their knees.

It's the most beautiful peice of art Emmrich has ever seen. The greenery and cobble of the gardens framing their face, open mouth and eyes pleading. Their hands hovering over his fly.

"Please." The mage nearly comes undone from that word alone. His mind repeats 'Rook. Rook. Rook' A million times per second.

"How can I refuse such a pretty request?" In mere moments, he is in Rook's hand. It's been awhile since they've seen a cock, let alone touched one. In a way, he's mesmerising. Eyes raking up from the base to the tip, hand applying different pressures, playing with the expressions Emmrich makes.

They take their hand away, and he can't help the whine he makes, only to nearly collapse as Rook spits in their hand. That should not be as hot as it is, with their mouth inches away from his dick.

It's been a long time since anything but his own hand has touched him. And for it to be beautiful, intelligent, indomitable Rook.

When their mouth touches him, he's holding on by the thinnest thread. They lick up his shaft, lingering teasingly on the head. He's being good, he's being respectful. He's going to loose his fucking mind.

With a pop, they take him. Just the tip but it's nearly enough to send him over. Swirling their tongue, over the slit. And then, down. Halfway, then up. Halfway, then up. Creators, does he taste amazing. Salty and clean in the same measure. Emmrich is uttering their name a thousand times, switching between them.

"Talin" He mumbles and they hum, sending ripples throughout him.

Fully down, with their eyes wide staring straight up at him. He bucks his hips, unable to stop their movement. Rook chokes slightly with the surprise and he would be a damn liar if he said he didn't go wild at the feeling. But he's still holding on-

"Talin- Rook, darling, I'm sorry, I didnt mean-" He stops speaking, words dying in his throat. He thought he knew the depths of this desire before, but he was a fool.

"Fuck. Emmrich." They continue stroking him as they speak, eyes downcast, "you can- you can move if you want."

His hands fall to Rook hair. The pins loose and falling out. It's not much of a braid any more, it'll be non existent by the time he's done.

"Tell me what *you* want, darling."

They swallow, tongue falling out without control. Their eyes are still on his cock. No, he won't make it that easy. He firmly grabs a hold of their chin.

"Look at me, Rook. Tell me what you want."

Rooks eyes shoot to his. Their cheeks that brilliant rose gold. A string of elven falls from their lips and Emmrich feels so proud of himself for elliciting it.

"Creators, Emmrich. Just fucking. Use me."

Snap, everything holding him together crumbles away. Reservations about who they are and where they are dissapearing in the Necropolises cool wind.

Neither has noticed the chill.

Emmrich's hold on Rook's hair tightens, they loose themselves for a brief moment in the esctasy of the sharp sting. Until he pulls them over the head of his cock, hips rising to meet them.

It's a rough, carnal rhythm. Their throat is tight and he can feel the way in clenches around him. Rook's mind goes blank, full and suffocating. Does it last minutes? Hours? They have no idea, lost in noisea of Emmrich above them.

"Good boy. Good girl. So unbelievably perfect for me." He notices the change in tone with each compliment. A pleased hum, a deep moan, somehow both at the same time. He continues to spill forth a litany of adoration, changing the gendered nature of each phrase as he roughly fucks their throat.

Emmrich slows after a moment, letting Rook catch their breath and notices the one hand not gripping his hips for dear life, buried in their lap. His cock rests across their cheek, streaked with running eyeliner. Of all the sights he's seen over the years, of the journeys they've led together, nothing could ever compare to this.

"You looked absolutely wrecked, darling. My, what would the others say if they saw you like this for me?" Emmrich can't help himself, proud of the position he has Rook in, extatic that *he* is who they're on their knees for.

For a split second he's worried he's gone to far when their eyes widen, the gold in the green highlighted by the minimal light. But the most *perverted* sound escapes their throat in response and Emmrich is surprised he had any more composure to loose.

He enters Rook's mouth again slowly, guiding them all the way down, holding for a few seconds until they splutter and tears escape the sides of their eyes and then back up again. They give him the most cock drunk gaze. He feels himself throb in response.

Down and up again, increasing the length he holds them there for. Seeing how much they can take. It's like he hits a button that shuts their brain off, all they can think of is Emmrich and the cock he's burying inside them.

"I'm going to use this lovely throat of yours until I'm satisfied, my dear, and you are going to touch yourself as I do"

The combination of noise and expression Rook makes at his words is utterly sinful, their mouth opening wider, their eyes trained on him. Emmrich moves his hips again, guiding their head with one hand, moving the other to their throat. He can feel himself fill them, feel the bulge everytime he enters to the hilt. Darling Rook, taking him so well. The picture of a a young, intelligent, strong adventurer turned into an utter mess by him.

Rook dutifully follows his instructions, not that their body gives them much choice. They rub themselves through their underclothes, whines bubbling in the back of their throat. Emmrich's leg slips forward slightly, not enough to set him off balanced or distract him from his task, though it's left his boot placed just in front of Rook's crotch.

Perhaps if they were in a less sex addled mind, more full of air, not consumed by the pain of kneeling on hard stone, they would feel any hesitation whatsoever forwhat they're about to do. Maybe they will feel embarrassed for this later, hoping the Emmrich will still look at them the same.

Rook moves their hips and grinds against his boot. The warm leather and humiliation feeling so much better than their hand. Emmrich's eyes open at the touch, barely able to comprehend what he's seeing. His proud lover humping in earnest against his leg, feral and desperate. He's hit his fucking limit.

"Rook- I'm-" He goes to warn them, Rook grabs onto both of his hips, holding him entirely sheathed as he empties himself in their throat. Emmrich sees sparks, speaks a breathless "Talin~" Out into the otherwise still garden air. Rook's eyes roll back in their head, completely wrapped up in subspace. He spasms inside them, they can feel his quickened pulse on their tongue.

He can feel then swallow to their best of their ability, milking out whatever he has to give them. Emmmrich pulls out slowly, enjoying the white that stains Rook's lips. Then it's gone in a moment as they lick it away, then open their mouth to show his remaining seed, and again after they swallow it all down, proud. It's absolutely obscene. He loves it.

"That was. Not how I expected evening to go."

He leans back against monument, fatigue beginning to catch him. He puts himself away and then smooths down Rooks hair as they lean on his knee, humming happily with their eyes closed. It's such a soft frame in comparison to just a few minutes ago. Emmrich's heart feels so full in his chest, every doubt he has had quiet, just for this moment.

"Now, would you like some water, dear?"

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Notes:

Oh! They have a playlist now:

[lychniis]

There's also this other idea for huli jing ! Jing yuan I have in mind. Partly inspired by the story goose mountain and all ( just a little ) where the reader ( who probably lives alone in the mountains and makes a living selling herbs and firewood ) is on their way to the main city and first meets Jing yuan as a silver fox in need of help, then posing as a scholar who has collapsed at the side of the road.

And the rest of the journey is just them sharing their food with him all while he poses as this feeble scholar woe is me but for some reason he seems strangely adept at keeping danger away.

[queen-scribbles]

.

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Genshin Men Eating Out Their Darling

Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Kinich, Lyney, Neuvillette, Ororon, Pantalone, Pierro, Sethos, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer/ Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli (all separate)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

I decided to do ca. 100-200 words each character to keep it nice and simple:) (some are over 200 tho). This took me longer than expected haha. My requests are open, but read my rules before requesting <3 (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Masterlist

Warnings: NSFW 18+, cunilingus, all sexual acts are consensual, female reader, obsession, possessiveness, some of the yandere tendencies are more subtle than others, future imprisonment, face sitting, jealousy, fingering, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, forced marriage, reader is indifferent to some of the yandere behaviour in some of the parts, translation at the end, power imbalance

Word count: 4779

Albedo

The unforgiving wind of the icy mountain howled against the treetops. The fireplace was lit given you much needed warmth. It had been 2 months since you had moved up into the cozy cabin high up in the mountain with the famed researcher.

His hand scissored skilfully into your cunt before his tongue joined them. The cold left you quickly as his tongue dove in deeper into your fluttering cunt.

You were glad you had taken upon the offer of the blond haired man and followed him up to Dragonspine. Here you had been happier than ever before and you believed him when he said that others would just do you harm.

Alhaitham

The scribe was a calculated and well composed man. So who would have thought he would lose his composure so easily when it came to you? Your presence was enough to make his seemingly cold manners crack and turn into poorly hidden admiration. Alhaitham did anything he could to keep you as shielded from the outside world as possible.

His muscular arms kept your legs open as he devoured you with uncharacteristic vigour. He sneered like a starved animal as he left mark after mark on your thighs. A guttural sneered left his lips as he dove his face further into the warmth of your cunt. You cooed at him lovingly as shivers of pleasure ran through your body.

Ayato

Ayato had always had his way with words. He had always had the upper hand no matter the circumstances. He was a beautiful man and he reminded you of a siren. His lilac eyes enchanted you to no extent. His touches intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. He was a dangerous man, that much you knew, but it didn’t stop you for seeking him out time after time. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but he loved you, oh so much and he kept you safe.

His bed was soft as and comforting. The doors open and welcoming in the breeze from the sea. The moon was high and clouds covered some of its white body.

The pale blue haired man was busy with burying his face between your legs were he ate you out with precision. His eyes never leaving yours as he showed you what it meant being the wife of the head of the Yashiro Commission. You found yourself melting in his touches and any thought about your parents disappeared without a trace. The smug smirk of the ethereal man was out of your understanding as you lost yourself to pleasure.

Baizhu

The Bubu Pharmacy was empty save from the two of you. The lights were dimmed and the window closed to keep the cold autumn night air out. Candles were lit to give you some much needed light. Baizhu’s trusted companion, the snake that often accompanied him, was in another room far away.

Orange reptile like eyes gazed down on you gently as he moved slowly down your body and to where you wanted him the most. His light touches teasing and making you hunger for more.

He parted your thighs skilfully as he kissed up your slit before he entered your hole with his tongue. The very same tongue which had driven your family and loved ones away with elegantly spun lies and well hidden treats.

Now the only thing you needed was him and his gentle, loving touches.

Capitano

The 1st Harbinger was a big and righteous man. He was stronger than any human that walked the earth and he never broke his word. He had first intimidated you with his size (and he still did at times), but you learned that underneath his helmet was a charming man. His charm was difficult to pinpoint as it was different from most, but it had greatly intrigued you.

His large hands held your legs firmly as they rested in his shoulders. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed with his head buried in your soaking cunt. His helmet was carefully placed on the dresser. Capitano’s long black hair fell against his shoulders as he lapped up your juices. His dark midnight blue eyes stared up at you, making you shiver under their intensity.

“You are so beautiful [Name]” his voice a groan.

You let yourself get lost in the pleasure and you couldn’t care less about the havoc he had caused when a rowdy man had accidentally bumped into you.

Childe

Blood were still coating the ginger strands of the warrior who had you pressed down on his face. The first thing he had demanded when he got home from yet another business trip, was for you to sit on his face. Who were you to deny your husband?

His grip on you were as intense as the rest of the man. His blue eyes were shut in bliss as he ate you out like it was his last meal. And if he had the choice he would die happily between your thighs as he told you at every given moment.

You didn’t last long with that damned tongue of his and before you knew it, you were clutching the headboard for much needed support. Instead of letting you get off, he simply glanced up at you with big eyes full of love and utter devotion.

As he continued to stare, it became obvious of who the blood in his hair belonged to.

Cyno

The white haired Mahamatra had his gazed locked onto your weeping cunt. His calloused hands ran down your sides till they got hold of your hips. His tongue plunged into you like a starved man and drove moan after moan out of you. He had finally managed to convince you to stay at home in his fine house as he would take care off you. Given his mannerism you could tell he was greatly pleased with himself.

His skill full tongue drove you quickly to your climax and you intertwined your hand in his white locks as he licked up your sweet release.

His red eyes looked up at you lovingly as he continued his previous pace. You were in for a long night.

Dainsleif

Blond hair tickled the sensitive skin of the inside of your thighs. The Khaenri'an’s hands were digging into the flesh of your skin as he lapped at your sweet juices. Dain had told you time after time that you were the only person that relived him of the pain that was caused of the curse that was cast upon him. As following he never let you leave him. You had long since learned that the soothing effect you had on his curse was only a tiny tiny fraction as to why he never let you leave his sight.

His groans and your soft moans were echoing through the empty halls of the ruin. The blond man drove his tongue deeper and you felt you were close. You chest heaved up and down in a rapid motion as you tried to calm down form your release.

Cerulean eyes stared up at you with devotion one normally only found in a worshipper of a god. How ironic. Words feel from his mouth which you had no means to understand, yet you felt the meaning through his unrelenting gaze. “Jeg elsker deg, jeg elsker deg, jeg elsker deg, min kjære [Name].”

Diluc

The soft glow of the fireplace warm against your naked skin. The light from the fire lighting up the muscular chest of the redhead that leaned over you. His lips locked against yours in a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced in a seductive tango which made you ache with need between your legs. Diluc hummed as he noticed your thighs pressing together.

With his head between your thighs he worked you closer and closer towards or orgasm. His movements passionate and filled with love. You ran your hair through his red locks. You were truly happy in the arms of the man who loved you more than life itself. You ignored the words of others. So what is he was overprotective and so what is he didn’t want strangers talking to you? He was only trying to protect you.

Dottore

The Doctor was a talented man when it came to the art of intimacy. It was a rather shocking discovery at first, but you was happy he had showed you his ways in the bedroom.

The threat of being imprisoned forever within the walls is his lavish manor hang low over your head like a guillotine. Despite that you couldn’t care less. Not when he was nestled between your legs and lapped at your cunt with such gentleness and love you almost wept. To awaken such emotions within the second Harbinger was a defeat in itself, one which you treasured greatly.

His groans synchronised with your moans in a symphony of love and lust. It made you curious for the future and uneasy for what he had done to your loved ones.

Gorou

The life of a general was busy and dangerous. His days existed of leading battles and giving out orders. So it was only natural he was extremely touch starved when he returned from war and to you.

When you greeted him in the hallway of their cozy home he almost leaped into your arms. You hugged him tightly, glad he wasn’t hurt. He buried his face in the crotch of your neck. “Oh how I have missed you” his voice a whisper.

Pale hands gripped your thighs in a tight grip. Blunt nails digging into your skin. Your hands held onto the headboard with enough strength so you wouldn’t collapse on the man underneath you. His tongue drilled fast and deep into your drenched cunt. He was eating you out like a wild dog. Your every nerves was haywire.

Your breath hitched as Gorou drove you faster and faster to your climax. The brown haired man beneath you muttered chants of “I love you” against your clit over and over again. He had promised you when you pulled you onto the bed that he would never ever leave you again, and judging by his intense look you believed him.

Heizou

Slim fingers ran down your thighs leaving goosebumps in their wake. Dark red hair brushed against your nose. Light green eyes gazed into your eyes with lust and love. Your lips locked in a soft kiss. He tasted sweet like cherries. Your lips pulled apart and you could feel him smirking.

“You have no idea how much I love you, need you” his sensual voice whispered against your lips. He gave you one last deep kiss before he lowered his head down and kissed trails down to where you needed him the most.

You kissed your inner thigh till he reached your sweet cunt. He kissed it once, twice, before he gave it a good lick. You moaned at his moment.

He snickered teasingly as he pushed his tongue inside your spongy walls. He moaned loudly at your taste.

“Archons, you tasted heavenly” he sighed in between licks. His thumb found your clit which he stroked and rubbed skilfully.

You could feel the knot in your lower abdomen getting closer and closer to snapping. Before you knew it you came all over the beautiful face of the man between your thighs.

In your blissful trance you were completely unaware of the documents on his nightstand that read the reports of your future disappearance.

Itto

The horns of the oni was hard and cool underneath your hold. As you rubbed the base the large oni groaned in pleasure. He had you on his face in a tight hold as he ravaged your cunt with such hunger only an oni could posses. As his tongue swirled over your clit in a slow harsh manner, your dread upon seeing him tear the men who had backed you in an alley, in half slowly disappeared.

Your chest heaved as you tightened your hold on his horn which egged him on further. His movements speed up and it didn’t take long before you saw stars. You slumped forwards, but his strong large hands kept you upright.

“I love you so, so much” he murmured against your thigh.

Kaeya

The blue haired captain had without no doubt murdered the annoying tavern patrons in cold blood. Despite that, you felt safe in his arms as he pleasured your cunt with his slivered tongue. His lone eye glanced up at you with a hooded lid which sent a warm jolt down in your cunt.

He was as skilled with his tongue when it came to pleasuring you as he was at whispering you lies that fuelled your dependence on him.

He held you in a tight embrace as you came down form your high. His honeyed voice whisper sweet nothings into your ears and you felt safe in his arms.

Kaveh

Blond locks tickled your thighs as the architect lapped at your cunt. He had been extremely stressed and panicked when he came home to your shared home. He had admitted that he was afraid of someone better coming to whisk you away. You were the only thing that kept him sane. You had stroked his hair reassuringly and told him you would never leave him. Before you both knew it you had ended up in to sofa, with him nestled between your thighs.

You pulled at his soft locks which earned you a grown which reverberated against your cunt. You threw your head back against the cushion. Kaveh had always put your pleasure before his and he had always had a talented for making you feel better than anyone else could.

With a swirl of your clit and thorough the lapping of his wet muscle you came so heard you saw stars. You thought that he must be a gift sent by the gods beyond the sky as he licked up your excessive juices with loud moans.

He leaned over you as he started lovingly into your eyes. “You are never allowed to leave me, ever” he kissed you passionately. His grip on your shoulders was hard as if he was afraid you would run away.

Kazuha

The white haired samurai had always intrigued you. He was a wise man with a connection to nature you could only hope to fully understand. He was so so kind and gentle towards you, yet you had just witnessed him slashing down a group of drunken sailors who had gotten a little too friendly with you. His snowy haired had been stained red as he pulled you into a tight embrace, relived you were okay. You were shaken up by the sight you had just seen before you and he had kissed your face as he had whispered reassuring words. Every word he utters from his pale lips felt like a warm blanket. They always seemed to calm you.

You had helped him wash his hair and as his hair grew more and more white, his desire for you became more and more visible. You had pulled him into a kiss with led to you being laid out on the soft sheepskin rug in the middle of the bathroom.

His tongue wasn’t only good at uttering poetic words, but it was also extremely skilled in the art of pleasure. He ate you out gentle and sensual with his hands gripping your thighs. Every time the started close do to you being so lost in please, he pushed them open firmly. His red eyes held your gaze through the many orgasms he drew out of you. You had now completely forgotten all about the sounds of Kazuha’s katana slashing through the throats of the sailors.

Kinich

The ancient name bearer was a honest man. He believed in getting straight to the point and he rarely kept secrets. Hence why he told you quite early on after he had realised his feelings, what he felt for you. You had been foolish in believing it was just a normal crush and not an endless abyss of love and obsession which had scared his little dragon companion.

You had invited the hazel eyed young man into your home, without knowing that day would be your last day of freedom. After his visited, he would bring you home with him.

You laid spread out onto your bed with the drakes haired man planted between your legs. His tongue hungrily ate you out and he swallowed as much slick he possible could. You whispered a soft “I love you” which made him completely lose his composure.

Lyney

White doves, flashy card tricks and well thought out magic performances became a part of your daily life after you accepted Lyney’s love. His feline eyes never left your form and his hand was always near you. He sneered passive aggressive threats at everyone who dared getting close to you. It had starting to get exhausting calming down your possessive lover. Luckily you had come up with a solution.

Burying his head into your cunt had surprisingly calming effects on the magician. He moaned at your sweet taste as his pale lilac eyes fell shut. His tongue was as talented as his fingers and brought you to orgasm after orgasm. You had started to wonder if he actually possessed magical powers after he brought you to your fourth orgasm that night.

Unbeknownst to you, was that the cunning magician had purposely lashed out more than normal at the travelling market you two had visited in order to be granted access between your legs. It was a grand feast for him and a pleasurable act for you, so it was a win win for both parties, wouldn’t you agree?

Neuvillette

The dragon had laid you down on the plush bed. Your skin flat against the silk sheets. His hold on you were gentle, but possessive. Despite his perfectly crafted façade he was only a dragon, and dragons did not ever want to share their treasures. Seeing you surrounded by so many who wanted to congratulate you on your marriage shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. He had clenched his jaw and dragged you upstairs to his private quarters.

His tongue was skilled and held an authority which made you blush. His pale fingers joined his tongue and brought you to a pleasure you knew you would never find with another man. You let yourself lose control of your body and gave your entire being to the awaiting dragon.

Ororon

The dark haired man was a desperate man. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline and for all you knew, maybe you were. His mismatched eyes held an obsession that ran deeper than the well that was outside his home.

He kissed your lower lips sloppily, but with such passion the poets of Mondstadt could never hope to achieve. He whimpered at the sweet taste of you and his kisses deepened. His lips parted from your sweet cunt and shifted to your inner thigh were he sunk his fangs into. You hissed as he sucked a purple hickey onto your sensitive.

“I should mark you up so no one gets any funny ideas about who you belong to” his sweet voice drowning out any other thoughts and filling them all with him.

Pantalone

Ringed fingers stroked the inside of your thighs as the dark haired Harbinger held your thighs. His pretty lips curled up into a smile that made your cheeks redden. He laughed at your embraced appearance. “Aren’t you the sweetest?” he purred as he kissed the inner of your thighs slowly, teasingly.

When his lips finally reached you were you wanted it the most you couldn’t help the small sounds that escaped your lips. The sounds only pushed him further on as he quickly and suddenly plunged his tongue deep inside. He moved his tongue skilfully as one of his hands found your clit which he rubbed gently.

The ring on your finger which symbolised the eternal binding you had to him felt like a part of you as you came undone on the silver tongue of the banker. It was as if your distaste of the marriage had never happened at all.

Pierro

The director of the Harbingers was a cold and collected man, but when it came to you he was different. The coldness thawed and was replaced with a warmth that lulled your senses. His large hands moved in precision that came with the many years he had lived. The marriage he had forced upon you didn’t seem as bad as you laid in the bed of his elegantly decorated bedroom with relics he had collected throughout the years.

His right hand held onto your thigh as the other held onto your and. Your hands intertwined. On of your legs were popped up on his shoulder as his tongue worked inside your tight hole. He was rather quiet save for a few grunt here and there, but it was obvious he enjoyed himself greatly.

As you came you tightened your hold on his hand and he kissed your thigh gently in a sign of his undying love.

Sethos

The tent was cramped, but with a miracle he had made it cozy. Blankets were covering the ground followed by pillows. Sethos was pressed between your thighs as he worshipped your cunt like it was an ancient goddess. His wild locks had fallen down his shoulders and framed his beautiful face. His gemstone like eyes found yours as he continued to please you with his tongue.

You could tell he was relieved to find you unharmed after the encounter with the bandits. You hadn’t dared to ask what he did to them afterwards, but you decided it was best to ignore it. You knew he would never hurt you, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for the bandits that had the misfortune to encounter the clever young man.

Thoma

The blond housekeeper had always been so very gentle and careful when it came to you. It made you wonder if he was scared you would break if he applied a little more pressure. Tonight however was different.

His hands dug into your skin as his tongue worked you up with fast and harsh movements. You couldn’t hold back the soft moans that fell from your lips. You closed your eyes as he ate you out.

His jealousy was evident in his tight hold. He had been seething through his usually calm and friendly expression. He couldn’t stand seeing other men lay their slimy hands on someone who belonged to him. Who knew what they would do to you?

Tighnari

Soft ears flicked as a deep groan sounded from deep within the chest of the forests watcher. His was eating you with carnal desire that had first surprised you. His arms snaked around your waist in a protective manner.

Tighnari had always been extremely overprotective for as long as you had known him. You had after a time, welcomed that side of him after you realised he only meant you well. His company was all you needed and you had started to forget how it was being with your friends.

A groan left his lips as he lapped up your release with a hunger fever. You let your fingers run along his ear which earned you a strangled moan. His hazel eyes gazed up into yours which such love. Why seek freedom when you had the sweetest lover?

Venti

The playful bard was happily lapping at your wet cunt. His fingers gently caressed your skin. His nose pushed against your clit as he angled his head in order to reach deeper into you.

Venti was a firm believer in freedom, and freedom he had given you. It had surprised you at first how a man with so deep feelings for you at the point you could envision him creeping into the cavity of your chest in order to be closer to you, letting you roam freely within the city. He had let you do as you wished, except talking to other men alone. Whenever a male counterpart approached you, his green eyes filled with rage was he stepped in and dragged you away.

Wanderer/ Scaramouche

Cold breath fanned over your lower half as he bent his face down. His beautiful face ethereal in the moonlight as his eyes found yours. Love and desperation swirled in the violets.

He swirled his tongue around your clit which made you gasp. His cold hand intertwined with yours in a gentle, but firm hold. He had always had the need to know where you were at all times and when you weren’t within his reach he became irritable and lashed out at anyone who dared to talk to him. You had long suspected that there was more to him than what he had told you. One thing was sure, his love for you ran deeper than the roots of the giants trees in the rainforest.

He ate you out with such emotion you were taken aback. The usual snarky man was now glossy in the eyes as his eyes raked across your face.

The moonlight cast long shadows over the bedroom as you came. At that very moment you didn’t care about how he didn’t want you to spend time with your friends. For was it really that bad to only be with him? Was it really that bad to be with the man you love?

Wriothesley

Strong hands held your hips in place as his face burrowed into your crotch. A few groans escaped his lips as his tongue works up your slit. His nose against your clit. Your eyes started up into the ceiling as you moaned. The Duke had had a bad day and he had wanted nothing more than to burrow his head between your thighs and eat you out for hours.

It had become an everyday occurrence with him nestled nicely between your thighs. You had long since stopped complaining about not being able to see the sun that hung high above the blue Fontainian waters.

“You are such a good girl, [Name]. Let me take care of you” his chin was glimmering with slick. His tongue swept over his chin in a hum. “You’re gonna be safe here. I’m glad you finally realise such” he kissed your inner thigh before he dove back in. What he said was true. You were going to be happy with him down in the Fortress.

Xiao

Golden predatory eyes held your gaze as the long fingers of the adeptus plugged into your cunt. The slick sounds filling the room accompanied by your uneven breathing. His mouth locked around your clit as he gave it a hard suck which sent shivers down your spine. Xiao was a man of few words, but that didn’t bother you. He had his own ways of showing you his love.

His ravenous tongue accompanied his fingers as he began his feast. The bedroom at his private quarters at the inn was dimly lit. A lone candle was burning on the nightstand. Your gaze wandered to the open window which overlooked the marsh and the land that stretched beyond. You longed for your freedom, but you didn’t want to part from the adeptus you loved so dearly. Maybe one day you two would traverse the world beyond the surrounding land of the inn.

Zhongli

Strong warm hands pinned you down as soft lips kissed down to your cunt. His hauntingly beautiful eyes met yours as he gently bit down onto your skin. His sharp teeth almost breaking the skin, but he parted before it started to hurt. He had time after time showed you he knew both you and your body better than everyone else.

The contract that laid neatly on the dark wooden nightstand was temporarily forgotten as he worked your through your nth orgasm for the night. His long silky brown hair fell over his shoulders as he tipped your head up into a deep kiss. His tongue invited yours to a dance of pleasure and love. He parted with your lips after a moment that felt like an eternity.

“I will make you happy for eternity. Just sign the contract and I will take care of everything else” his deep voice reverberated through his broad chest.

You nodded, oblivious to what would happen to you when you signed your name onto the golden paper. Your faith was in his hands, but he promised he would take care of you. You were his future wife after all.

Translation

Norwegian → English

“Jeg elsker deg” = “I love you”

“Min kjære” = “My dear”

[the-faceless-bride]

More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)

<- Part 1

Imagine being dangerously in love.

Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.

Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.

Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.

Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."

Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."

Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."

Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.

Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.

Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...

Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.

Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.

Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...

Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.

Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates

Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.

Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.

Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...

Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.

Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn

Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon

Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.

Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."

Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.

Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.

[comfortless]

Pygmalion!König and Galatea!Reader………. 😖 What do you think?

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. pining, light angst. self harm, implied animal death (not done by König or reader), fluff, König is horrible and by that i mean yes— he fucks the statue, outercourse, unprotected piv, implied mutual loss of virginity.

notes: lovely Salome did something similar to this already! 💖 however. yes. i am thinking about it and well…. take this out of my hands.

König has never had anything that could properly be called his own.

He walks the city entirely alone, no wife at his side to paw at his chest and bless him with adoring glances. His only steadfast companions are the grit slipping into his sandals as he walks, head held high even as the shadow of a boy begging on his knees for any semblance of love eternally tethers itself to him.

A glance lingering too long at the appeal of a soft face, the brush of his calloused fingertips against a pornai’s bare stomach before deciding that no, he didn’t want something so simple.

He merely slips a few apologetic drachma into her waiting palm and sets her free of him.

A warm body would never be enough, it was the heart that he starved for. To bed some poor creature that would never properly love him would be worse than the greatest of tortures in his mind.

It wasn’t a simple affair to find a lady to marry, either. Foreign soldier that he was, he had no right to some politician’s pretty daughter, court her properly and sweep her away to a bed that’s only ever been a harbor for lonely, twisted bitterness and blood.

Most turned away the moment he passed by: frightened glances that rightfully accused him of immense violence, shushed whispers of “barbarian” passed from soft lips before the sand beneath their fretful feet shifted and their shapes had disappeared from view entirely.

The ceaseless loneliness carves a burning ache somewhere within the expanse of his chest, something he knew he would never truly be free of, not until it rotted it’s way out of him in full.

It only seemed to quiet in moments he shed blood for this foreign country; burying his sword in some poor man’s gut was the closest he could get to sheathing a part of himself inside another, to touching a heart, seeing lips part in a gasp as their world becomes entirely consumed by him.

Just as the many days prior to this one, he grips the hilt of his blade, letting the metal dig into his palm, his knuckles bone white, as he makes his way back to the empty shack deemed a home.

Streets quiet and crowds disperse with each of his silent footfalls— not one of these smaller men or fearful women dares to look him in the eye. The only thing that does, the only eyes that ever lock to his, are those peering out from the harbor.

The figurehead guarding her expertly crafted ship has always called to him.

Her beauty was remarkable, from the curl of her hair to the patient look in her eyes. Her hands clasped before her breasts in silent prayer as she looms over the darkened depths of the sea beyond the soil, calling him to board, to venture away from this place that his left him in such an acute state of misery.

He swears he hears it then, a mere whisper on the wind, urging him in featherlight comfort to lie down his sword and take up the chisel and hammer.

It’s only when he pauses to look the gentle face of the figurehead over once more that he finds himself resolute in what he must do.

— — —

When he took to crafting her it was born of this desperation; hazy moonbeams cutting through the shade of his shack for hours before he would reluctantly pull away from a beautifully carved hand or the soft but stiff curve of a neck to retire to the straw-stuffed mattress at the corner of the room.

She was beautiful, a representation of all of the sweet, effeminate softness he would marvel at from afar. The swell of plush breasts, curved hips and silken thighs, eternally parted by her stance, the sweet face that could make any man feel entirely weak…

His hands tremble when they rest upon her form, unsure of just how such splendor could have come from his own coarse palms.

Weeks of scarce sleep only seemed to further his devoted madness. Though the warring dulled the ache and sated his blade, the longing seemed to only grow far more prevalent.

He yearned when they were apart, dreamt of coming home to her less lifeless and only demure smiles and hurried kisses the moment he would return to her. He would always come back.

Upon her completion, he took to courting her proper. Though she could not in any way reciprocate or reject his advances, he believed wholeheartedly that the cushiony love that had blossomed within his aching, neglected heart must be mutual.

Gifts were strewn at her cold feet, some gilded and shimmery, some soft with an abundance of colorful petals: offerings for a silent goddess that kept a part of his soul hidden away deep inside the pristine marble that she was carved from.

When he wraps her neck in a necklace with a sparkling beryl amulet attached, his hand does drift to the swell of her breast beneath the woolen chiton.

It’s hard and cold, but his groping becomes as incessant as the kisses he presses to her jaw, to her cold lips, tongue leaving a warm path down to her neck before he finds himself committed to having her.

He’s careful when he disrobes her, slowly revealing the mounds and curves and softness of her imitation of human flesh.

Dropping to his knees, his tongue laps at the ivory depiction of smooth lower lips, spearing between each silken ridge until he imagines her eyes squeezing shut as she cries out for him, rolling her perfectly sculpted hips to coat his tongue in waves of vulgar honey.

He moans into her cunt, drools and sucks at the mimicry for as long as it takes to find her thighs drenched in his saliva and his cock aching horribly between his thighs.

He rises to slot himself between her legs, pushing forward with a keening whine that dissipates into a relieved gasp. The feel of her pressed against him; the smooth ridges of her makeshift flesh running over his stiff, leaking cock is akin to finding divinity.

His hands rove over her breasts, thumbs pressed against her eternally pebbled nipples as he kisses her, each sloppy and filled with years of need.

It is pure bliss, almost as though he is burying himself to his hilt inside of her pulsing cunt.

He would fuck her better than any man— not a single other could match the strength of his affections nor his hapless willingness to please.

If he could have carved a proper hole between her legs, not a drop of his seed would be wasted on thin sheets or spilled into his palm, she would be filled, womb brimming until some loving god or goddess blessed her with child.

His pace quickens to the point of frantic, feverish hands drifting to her hips as he mouths at her breasts instead, hissing out praises for how good she feels against him, how his heart bleeds to feel her nearer.

There is so much heat between her thighs now he could swear it burns like the cold mist of the Underworld itself; the fuzzy heat pools from his navel and further as his muscles begin to tense and leave his thoughts a haze and his lips parted in a silent, worshipping cry.

It’s only when he envisions her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, back arching as she drags her nails over his shoulders and whines through her own damnation that his cock throbs in repetition as his eyes roll back. His heavy sack arrives at her mound as his seed spills from him, cascading down to paint the thighs of his silent lover, smeared pearly and glistening over her labia as he rubs his cockhead against her with an agonized groan.

His forehead finds her shoulder, warm breath replacing the coldness of her skin as he wraps his arms around her perpetually beckoning form, lovingly trailing kisses from her clavicle to her ear where he whispers a breathless, “I love you.”

It’s only after he’s finished wiping away the evidence of depravity from her that he feels the first wave of shame, sharp and feathering from his chest that leaves his jaw set and throat tight.

What lowly man envies the warmth others experience with far less gratitude? König has never seen himself as pathetic, no matter how commonly he’s been sent off and kicked like a stray.

She’s the only thing that’s brought him any sort solace in a world that’s left him starved, but also a cruel mirror casting a reflection of his own nature.

Pulling the thin blanket from his mattress, the statue is soon swallowed up in her entirety, all guilt and pity-drawing attestation neatly hidden away behind rippling sable fabric; her form silent and waiting as it would remain eternally.

None of this is enough.

———

König has never found himself fond of prayer, never felt the need to partake in the festivals and ceremonies. His luck in battle was only a mere measure of skill, of a body so brutal and immense that most trembled before him, not born of any benevolent gift. There was no need to kneel, to bestow offerings upon the altars. If the people turned away from him, then surely any god or goddess would be even more inclined to do so.

Only… his mindless wandering has led him here, to Aphrodite’s altar whilst the festival of Aphrodisia plays on everywhere around him. The people invoke and dance, abundant offerings brought forth as the scent of timber burning and bold floral incense floods his senses. Blood and flowers already riddle the stone, a stark vibrancy of color that lures him closer, commands him to kneel.

He doesn’t have a thing to offer to the goddess, not so much as a petal, but if the pull were not just the first signs of a withering mind…

The glimpse of hope he’s offered is not taken for granted.

Thick fingers curl over his sharpened blade, dragging his palm against the steel until it stings almost sweetly. If she could accept the blood of a goat then surely, his could be no more polluted. Beads of crimson revel and dance along his forearm before dropping down onto the stone.

And he does pray.

It is not a vulnerable prayer, one that bares him in full, but only a wish— a longing for warmth, to have her share his breath, to admonish his shame and live free with the one thing that has never given him anything but safe harbor.

He unveils her when he returns, knowing that this is the closest he will ever come to love.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against her cheek, leaves a kiss there before dragging himself away to disrobe and pull himself back into bed.

When the weariness takes him, his sleep in dreamless and calm. If any blessing were bestowed upon him at all, the surely that would have been more than enough. A night without turning, without visions of a darkened grave devoid of anything to haunt him.

He only begins to stir when the mattress dips at his side, a soft palm pressed to his chest, stroking along the loose curls of auburn there.

“König..,” a voice calls out, more gentle than any he’s ever heard.

He wakes to find her, leaning over him with the sweetest glimmer in her eyes, wide and fascinated. Her touches only trail further up to his face as he tries to silence the rapid beating of his heart, the stinging born of adoration in his own pale blue eyes.

“I missed you,” she whispers, moving to curl at his side, her hands cradling either side of his jaw.

König is utterly stifled and so terribly smitten, the most he can manage is a quiet huff of breath as he rolls onto his side to take this sweet, unreal woman into his arms. Dreaming or waking, it mattered not, if he were given only the night or a lifetime with this beautiful little creature it’s still more than he has ever had.

His head dips to press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, only finding a warmth there that had never been the many times he had kissed her prior. His palm runs along her side, feeling ever perfect dip and curve, all heated and so very alive.

She only falls apart beneath his touch, already quivering and softly gasping even from such a gentle kiss. The thought that this little dove has been longing for him just as much makes his heart bleed. He whispers his apologies against her temple, for his frustrations, for his doubt in their love, for all of the temptations and hatred that plagued his mind before she came to be.

She only answers with eager touches, grasping at him as she murmurs her own perceived shortcomings. If only she knew that she could never do wrong, that she was what’s saved him and that nothing could shatter that.

When her tongue slips past his lips and his breath grows heavy, there’s little else he can concentrate on than the throbbing pillar between his legs, the scent of her around him, under him when he guides her onto her back.

Thanking the goddess could wait, he’s far too focused on the one that’s willingly climbed into his bed.

One hand splays at her side forcing him upright as the other trails over her breasts, a satisfied groan leaves him as he feels her softness, fighting back to urge to squeeze and pinch until she cries in pleasure, howling out like those at the altar he had encountered only earlier.

A nipple is snared between his thumb and index, twisted gently beneath each pad, her back arches…The wetness of the dew slicked flower between her legs brushes against him and he whines like a starved dog finally presented with the aroma of a meal.

His hand falls from her breast to her hip, encouraging her to buck the source of her own need against him— take anything she needed. If she were to pull a blade and carve a hole in his own chest he would only let her, the taste of this heated bliss and the look that she gives him, enchanted and curious, is more than he has ever deserved.

Only does he pause when he parts her thighs, and her stare becomes more curious, searching him for any reason as to why he would even stop.

“We have done this before. Are you afraid now?”

No, he wants to tell her, that before was not the full extent of it. Instead he only laughs, peeling away just enough to fit his head between her legs, mouth only a small measure from her weeping cunt.

“I want to taste you.”

With a whispered plea from her lips, he raises her hips, mouthing and suckling at her until she shivers and sings against the cushions. He groans against her when she does come, her hips stuttering in his grasp as she drives further against him.

He hisses in his mother tongue when he pushes the backs of her thighs up, grinds his leaking tip against her until he swears he really will fall into madness if he doesn’t fuck into her immediately.

The ache in his chest that his been so prevalent for so long is finally smothered out the very moment she tugs him down by his shoulders and pulls him into a frenzied kiss. She encourages him in each lapse, murmurs how long that she’s waited, how starved she’s been for him while hidden away.

He nearly sobs when his tip snags against her entrance, so divinely wet, pulsing and begging just as he is. When he penetrates her, the breath is punched from his lungs, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her within reach as she wraps around his shaft as though her cunt was made for him.

His little dove only covers him in kisses in turn as he mumbles obscenities into her flesh, revelling in her tightness, in the way her body fits so perfectly against his, mutually carved by the gods to fulfill one another. His professions of love come in abundance as she fits her legs over his narrow hips, crying out from his sudden depth as his cock jumps against a spot that leaves her writhing.

Though it’s almost painful to keep himself restrained, he tries his best not to rut into her like a mindless animal, even when he feels her constrict around him as another orgasm leaves her cunt drooling and pulsing. He doesn’t give her time to recover, however… forced to lie in wait for so long, it’s nearly taken out on her as he spears into her as she moans and babbles her praises against his chest.

He’s lost to the empyrean as his muscles finally pull taut, crying as he buries his head into her shoulder and pumps his come into her, shaking as he wraps her up in his arms and clutches her close as he melts against her.

Spent and sated, König holds her tightly against him as they pant and share sweet words, secrets and giggles from her that make every moment of dolor before this night seem insignificant.

She slots her fingers between his own, compliments his damaged face and the worships his body with brushes of her lips and tongue just as he does her. He does not leave her empty, warms her heart with words he’s kept trapped in his throat for months, guides her gently as she perches over him to descend back onto his cock, his thumb stroking her stomach as he tells her over and again just how much he loves her, compared his feelings to that of Orpheus, how he would suffer anything all for her.

A pleading “Stay” is uttered as she falls limp against him, stroking along her back as they come down for the second time that night.

The last thing that leaves her lips before sleep takes her is the most saccharine she’s said that night, a simple, “I love you.”

It’s the only thing that he’s ever truly longed for.

———

They marry after the voyage back to his homeland, his head clouded during the entire trip of seeing her swell with his child in time, a home built with her in mind for the two of them, of lying flowers at her feet just as he had before.

His blade lies neglected in the little glade they had chosen, taking up only a hammer and his own hands as he works tirelessly to provide for his wife, the dove that looks at him as though he were not a dog but a king.

When their home is built after many weeks of tedious work during day and bedding her beneath the stars each night, König only then thinks to pray his thanks to the foreign goddess who gifted his salvation to him with little more than a scrape from his palm. All the while his true goddess leans over him to tickle his cheek with flowers he had plucked for her only moments prior, covering him in a fragrance so sweet it only seemed befitting of herself.

She giggles and sighs when he pulls her down into the grass to roll over her, blanket her in kisses and gentle bites to her throat.

The beryl amulet around her neck catches the glimmer of the sun above as she sifts her fingers through his hair and tells him that the gods already knew he was grateful, that his worship of her was already telling enough.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy

A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 

🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇

TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content

(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)

Astarion: 

He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 

Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.

Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 

Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 

Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 

Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 

Gale: 

Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.

Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 

Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 

The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 

Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.

Wyll: 

Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 

Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 

Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.

Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 

Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 

Halsin: 

Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 

Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 

Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 

Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 

Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.

Minsc: 

He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 

Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 

He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 

He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 

He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 

Gortash:

Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 

He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 

He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 

Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 

He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 

Raphael: 

Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 

He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?

Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 

Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.

He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 

The Emperor: 

It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 

Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 

Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 

Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 

If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 

[orangetintedglasses]

@forgivenpunishment // guess we're camping for the night

Traveling while there were outages was something ill-advised all across the planet. Even moreso when it wasn't just some localized thing-- with nearly an entire quadrant just one big question mark in terms of gang activity, weather patterns and a number of other hazards common to a hellish sand planet, no one knew what was going on and most public broadcasts were pretty heavy-handed in reminding everyone to stay safe, and not travel anywhere outside the influence of Octovern and May, labeling the entire area in-between as a dead zone until further notice.

How the cities themselves managed to get away without a scratch, though, no one was sure. But there was quite an uproar building about leaving the active cities and settlements not within their jurisdictions to the wolves...

Especially at the start of sandstorm season.

Vash was doing his part as passenger by keeping an eye out for trouble where Wolfwood couldn't as they went along their merry way, driving across a massive expanse of nothing but sand and half-ruined structures (which he assumed were old rest stops and brave attempts at making camp, torn down by weather and time), headed towards the first set of coordinates given to them by people in the last town. There, they'd said, they could find a couple of Plants who wouldn't see engineers for quite some time still-- and yeah, it was nearly a three hour drive, but get out there, calm them down and get them working again? That would hasten some of the recovery for people and places at least a hundred iles out. Maybe more, if they were willing to share.

So of course Vash-- ever the altruist --insisted that they give it a shot.

They were getting fairly close when the Plant spotted it: the beginnings of a storm gathering on the horizon. A dark smattering of wind, sand and lightning; not directly in front of them, but coming at them from the side, and coming at them fast. They had maybe half an hour, tops, before it caught up to them; Vash relayed this information to Wolfwood and the pair quickly detoured from their course, seeking out the closest structure that had a ceiling and four(ish) walls before the storm could strand them out in the open.

What they found wasn't... perfect, but it was definitely good enough. An old wooden structure with scuffed-up glass in it's windows, and big double doors still firmly on their hinges that Angelina could fit through to keep her out of the storm, too. It... had clearly had more floors at some point in the past, but the floor between the first and former-second floor was still there to provide them coverage, as well.

It was the best they could do on such short notice; the winds were already howling when they rolled up, and kicked up wisps of sand and dirt up and around their legs as they hurried the three of them inside. A bonafide blessing in the middle of nowhere.

"Yeah, this doesn't look like it has plans to let up any time soon..." Vash said idly, frowning out the window. Flashes of lightning and ominous, rumbling thunder overhead appeared to agree with him as he turned to face his companion, walking back into the center of the room.

"Guess we're sandwiched until further notice. Just glad we got here before it got dark..."

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 5

(It took me way too long and saving every 5 min, but I got my laptop to run my drawing software long enough to get Leona drawn! Not overly thrilled with the pose and his legs gave me way too much trouble, but at least that is one more down!)

Warnings; Monster AU, yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, Romantic Yanderes, Platonic Yanderes, adult themes present, communal grooming behavior seen in most of my AU species, nesting behavior, social disconnect, attempted bullying, cooking breakfast, untrusting yet soft hearted reader, Cater unintentionally causes problems, Vampire Bats, Gnolls, Satyrs, Fauns, Kelpies, Water Nymphs, mention of Unicorns, Sphinx,

~~~~~~~~

"What... the actual hell are you doing?"

Lilia paused for just a moment, regarding you with wide and curious eyes that almost tricked you into thinking he was harmless. Almost. He took a moment with his pink tongue sticking out slightly as he blinked one eye after the other.

You were finally able to wind down for the night after what had been a long ordeal and a frightening several hours. Lilia spent the short span of time by your side, only giving you space when you bathed and even then he waited outside your door. He had proved to be a wise choice of protector given how many already tried their luck. Trein's idea had been a good one as the odd Bat already had to chase off several curious students, most just seeking to get a sniff or glance in your direction. In some ways you understood that you were an anomaly in their world and that made others curious, but at the same time you felt it was overboard for so many to be so keen to approach you.

Now you sat in the monstrously sized nest- courtesy of the Dragon that fixed up most of your current abode- with your errant guardian for the evening. Grim was curled up and fast asleep on one of the many pillows that littered the valleys and hills of blankets within the nest. You were just starting to doze off as well when you felt a warm and wet muscle trail over your skin. Naturally, you wanted to know just what on earth the strange Bat was doing and judging from the way he looked, he had actually just licked your cheek.

"Grooming you?"

"Why?"

"To help you sleep. Usually a quick bit of grooming makes Malleus and Sebek drift right off with no problem, Silver never needs much help in regards to sleep. Do Humans not groom one another?"

"... Not really. I mean, I guess they can but I don't think I've had someone literally lick me in order to clean me up."

"That wasn't a lick, that was grooming."

"You literally just licked my face."

"But I'm just grooming you?"

You stared at Lilia for a long moment, thinking back to the regular bats of your own world. Bats did often groom one another as a communal pastime, so it could be very possible he was simply doing the same for you. Though you figured these Human-like monsters would behave like Humans, there was still a high possibility that what was socially acceptable to these creatures was far beyond the realm of accepted for Humans. On top of the social disconnect you also realized that though Lilia had spoken of Humans before, he didn't really get all the aspects of Humanity or what you found acceptable.

Lilia seemed genuinely confused and hesitant. There was a strong part of him that still wanted to continue his nightly habits of lulling his nest companions to sleep before trying to rest himself. Still, he was not going to continue his semi-self-soothing communal grooming if you were angry with him over it. Not even getting his scent on you was worth making you genuinely displeased with him.

"Do you not want me to groom you?"

"... Does it help you sleep?"

"What?"

"You said it helps others sleep when you groom them, does it help you sleep too?"

"To groom or be groomed?"

"Both."

The Bat took a long moment to think as if he were honestly considering his own feelings on the matter. He didn't have to think about it for very long before he was nodding to your question.

"Yes. Both help me sleep. I am naturally nocturnal, so becoming diurnal for classes has been difficult on me. Getting my nestmates to sleep first usually helps me sleep. I wouldn't mind a bit of grooming for myself, but usually I'm the one putting others to sleep."

"... If it helps you sleep, then okay. Just... Don't get too excited, okay?"

"... Do you find grooming exciting?"

"No. Going to sleep now."

Lilia laughed softly at your curt response as you tried to close your eyes and drift off. It wasn't long into your attempt that the relaxed and wet strokes picked back up across your cheek. Perhaps he lied to you and only said it was normal. Perhaps it truly was normal for these monster men to participate in communal grooming.

You certainly didn't know and you weren't going to be awake long enough for it to matter. Maybe the Bat was right in that it helped soothe others to sleep as you were unconscious within a few moments of him starting back up.

~~~~~~~~

You woke to Grim batting at your nose with his paws. His bright blue eyes shining at you in the small light of the morning. The sun was not even above the horizon at that point and you vaguely wondered what it was the little feline-beast wanted.

"I'm hungry."

His voice was soft and a quick glance over your shoulder told you he was trying to avoid waking Lilia. The Bat was wrapped in his own wings and snuggled beneath a blanket, face completely smooth in deep rest. You similarly wanted to avoid waking your guard- both for time to yourself and because he seemed so peaceful- so you slipped out of the nest with Grim.

The halls were quiet as you made your way to the main level of the building, hoping the kitchen would be located there. Luck seemed to be on your side and you were thrilled to see both the kitchen and the food available to you. Apparently they were quite keen to keep you content and that meant giving you enough food as well.

The kitchen itself was more of an industrial type kitchen, a large sink for dishes, several ovens, large stovetop, multiple cabinets and one large fridge. Most of the pots and pans were present but seemed to have been unused for quite some time. Though the outside got fixed up, the kitchen recieved far less love. Still, you found the pans needed to get an idea of what you wanted to make. There were a handful of spices in old containers but it was slim pickings.

Despite the odd lacking of premade sauces and other such items, you knew enough to throw together a decent breakfast. It was early in the cooking process when Grim let out a sudden yowl and hiss towards the far side of the kitchen behind you. A door that led outside rattled open and you turned to see a frightening creature.

It looked like a Hyena that had been stretched and deformed into a Human shape, walking on hind legs that resembled that of a canine. The beast had shaggy fur that was a sandy blond color, darker browns spotting the pelt and highlighting the ridge of the Hyena's back. One of the most stunning and unsettling features of the creature was the bright blue eyes that looked far too Human.

As the creature's mouth opened a voice you didn't expect came from it. A light tenor that almost seemed to be accompanied by the cackle of a Hyena at the end of their sentences.

"Lookie here! Seems I found the new Human! Campus is abuzz about you crashing orientation yesterday and Leona wouldn't stop mentioning you."

You didn't know if the Hyena man was one you could trust or not and his oddly jerking motions unsettled you.

"But forget all that for now. What's that you're making? You wouldn't mind sharing some with your fellow student," a long tongue licked over his chops, "would you?"

"What were you doing out here so early?"

"Don't go being so suspicious of me, I'm a stand-up guy, shishishi. I was out gathering up some dandelions for my breakfast."

"... Dandelions?"

"What? Food's expensive here. Besides, guess I can call myself lucky coming across you like this."

The way the beast said this unsettled you and you felt more than a little cornered. Grim was quick to get between the two of you even though he was clearly untrusting of the Hyena as well.

"And what's that supposed ta mean?"

"Just saying whatever you're cooking smells good! It wouldn't be too much to add some more for me to have, right? You got all this food here, you may as well share it. Sides, Leona made it clear to all of Savanaclaw that we aren't supposed to put a single paw or claw on you."

You were partially tempted to call out for Lilia to get this monster away when you heard a heart-breaking sound. A long whining grumble came from the Hyena's stomach and he almost seemed to wince in response to the noise. It was the Hyena's stomach loudly rumbling for some food. After a moment of staring at the beast you noticed a bag at his side, leaves and bright yellow flowers sticking out of it and it was stuffed with more of the plants. Hyenas wouldn't eat just plants unless they had no other choice.

With a sigh you added more food to your pan, noticing the way the short tail of the Hyena man wagged excitedly. Grim crossed his short arms and continued to watch the newcomer with untrusting eyes, refusing to move from in between the two of you.

It was when your breakfast was almost done cooking that the Hyena suddenly changed in behavior. His ears flattened and his head bowed low, tail quickly tucking between his legs as he stared at the inside entrance to the kitchen. You glanced over to see the bright pink eyes of Lilia staring from the doorway with an almost threatening grin towards your uninvited guest. The momentary quiet made you quickly step in Lilia's path, trying to defend the odd Hyena from the Bat that was tasked with your safety.

"Wait, he was just hungry and he could smell my cooking."

"(Y/n), you have already been warned about those from Savanaclaw. Most of them were of the species that ate Humans. Gnolls like Ruggie over there were especially vicious to Humans."

"But he hasn't tried any of that today. I get that not everyone is safe, but he hasn't even tried to attack me. He just wants some breakfast. Lilia, please."

The Bat frowned slightly and gave a final glare at the blond furred beast- Ruggie the Gnoll, according to Lilia- before he relented to your pleas. Despite no longer threatening the Hyena, he made a clear show of moving himself to sit on a counter that allowed him to somewhat be inbetween you and Ruggie. It seemed Grim and Lilia both had the same idea in mind as they continued to stare the outsider down.

They only willingly broke eye contact with the hunched beast as you served four separate plates. Apparently even Lilia was keenly interested in your cooking and you could see the way the three set aside their distrust and happily dug in as you passed out the servings. Ruggie didn't even bother with cutlery as he gulped down the meal like a famished animal that hadn't eaten for days, lazily licking the plate when he was finished. Grim was similar and just shoveled food into his mouth with his little paws, his pronged tail waving excitedly. Lilia took the time to grab a fork, occasionally sending a mistrustful glare towards the Gnoll as he ate.

You felt comfortable enough to dig in as well, content that you managed to somewhat avoid conflict. It was becoming oddly normal to see the unusual beast men that lived in abundance around you, and you felt somewhat gratified to feed the clearly hungry Ruggie. The clear dandelions in his pouch told you that he didn't lie to you about gathering them up and you knew they were edible plants that even Humans could eat.

"Wow, Hooman, is this what you eat all the time?"

"It's a little bland actually, I was hoping there would be more spices and herbs in the cabinets, but there isn't even half as much as I was expecting. Some jellies and jams, but no bullion, no parsley, nothing like that."

It was then Lilia spoke up, talking in between bites as he was still working on his portion.

"Humans were the main cooks and culinary types before they died out. Most of us 'monster-men' as you call us don't need to cook our foods first and eating things raw is fairly normal. It is a treat to actually have a cooked meal in a lot of places, though some places Like the Queendom of Roses have grandfathered in pastries and other confections because of how much the Queendom loved Human cooking. Lots of us don't bother cooking because we don't have to, but I guarantee a cooked meal like this would bring a good portion of others to their knees."

You made a quick mental note of Lilia's comment and figured you could try using your cooking to sway others in your favor. Ruggie certainly seemed pleased as he made an attempt to swipe what remained of Lilia's food, earning him a quick swat from the Bat's wing. Maybe those from Savanaclaw weren't that bad, if Ruggie was anything to go off of.

~~~~~~~~

The bell rang as you tried to get to your first class, upset with yourself that you turned down Lilia's offer to show you to your classes for the day. Grim was no help since he was just as lost as you but he did seem to be enough to discourage most students from getting too close. No one really tried to talk to you and all just seemed curious in your scent or reaching out as if to touch you. A quick flame from Grim was enough to dissuade them so far but the ever curious eyes continued to follow you.

When you finally reached the door to what seemed to be the right class, a figure stepped in your way and blocked you. Standing between you and the door was a Goat man with orange hair and twisting horns atop his head. On his left eye was a red heart.

"So you're the Human everyone is losing their minds over. Don't look like much to me. You don't even have magic to defend yourself if I decided to hurt you right now."

He laughed a sinister sound as he grinned hatefully at you. Grim was clearly trying to make himself seem bigger than he was, even spreading his tattered wings out to somewhat shield you despite how little they covered. The blue fire that always seemed to burn on Grim's ears burned brighter as the grey cat-beast prepared himself to fight this goat man who seemed keen to stop you from entering the classroom.

"Ace, Housewarden Riddle told us to leave the Human alone."

It was then another Goat man approached from behind the first, looking distinctly different from the orange-haired short-horned Goat that tried to block you. This second one had large Ram horns that spiraled from the top of his head down to the sides of his chin, his dark blue hair complementing his bright blue eyes. Over his right eye was the card suit of spades. His lower half was the same as the first and seemed to be goat legs with a tail flicking behind him. You could just barely see the little white spots along the top of his tail as he pushed the first Goat forward with a glare on his face.

"And who the hell are you to enforce that rule, Deuce? You're just a first-year like me."

"And we were told to not heckle the Human."

"Don't tell me you think this Human is worth being upset over?"

"I didn't say that. I'm saying you need to leave her alone."

"Why don't you make me?"

Both seemed to be ready to have a go at one another, heads slightly tilted forward so their horns were pointed at the other. It almost looked like they were going to headbutt each other until one of them relented. It was during this argument that another voice cut in, making both Goats straighten up quickly.

"Why aren't you freshmen in class already?"

The voice belonged to what looked like a centaur man with green hair, his lower half was that of a white stallion. He wore thick black rimmed glasses and had the card suit of clubs beneath his left eye. His eyes were a golden brown that seemed almost yellow when compared to his unusual green hair.

As he trotted over the two Goats quickly seemed to break up their fight, refusing to look the man in the eye even as he looked down at the four of you with his arms crossed. The man seemed to get a good look at your little group before his gaze came to a halt on you, quickly looking you up and down in surprise. He seemed to recognize you rather quickly as he uncrossed his arms, that small displeased frown disappearing from his face.

"Oh, you're the- right. Riddle did say you would be attending classes. Doesn't make much sense to me to throw you into classes with this lot, but I guess it does make it easier for the professors to keep an eye on you."

His smile dropped ever so slightly into a glare as he looked over at the two Goats. That glare then seemed to change into a wicked grin as if he just got an idea.

"How helpful of the two of you to volunteer to show the Human to her classes today."

"Wha- I didn't volunteer for that-!"

"If you don't want to sleep outside with one of Riddle's collars on, I would suggest you both step up and stop fighting."

"Of course out of every upperclassmen we run into, it has to be Trey..."

"So good of you two first-year boys to step up like this. I will be checking in at lunch and if there is a single scratch anywhere on her I'm having Riddle collar the both of you."

The one with orange hair- Ace- stomped his hoof in anger at the much larger male, seeming aghast that he was given an assignment. Deuce seemed less displeased but had a clear frown on his face. Grim was already on board with staying by you given the fact you were his ticket to a comfortable bed and good food.

"If you're so worried, do it yourself!"

"I could tell both Riddle and Professor Trein right now that you two knuckleheads were trying to stop her from getting to class and trying to bully her. I'm sure that would look great on your school records, and you'll certainly have fun not being able to use any magic with Riddle's collars on."

This seemed to unnerve Ace more than the prior threat had as his eyes widened and he took a quick step back. Both Goats had to weigh the potential risks and rewards of the situation but quickly came to the conclusion that it was best to do what the Horse man told them to. You didn't know anything about this supposed collaring business, but you did recognize the name Riddle as the Unicorn that had yelled at Grim the night before.

"Hey, hey, why is everyone standing out here? Thought classes already started, so is everyone just late?"

Another new voice interrupted and Grim's ears flicked in clear frustration at all of the new faces that seemed so keen to heckle the two of you. He was quick to turn to you now that the threat was gone and use his little claws to climb up the leg of your pants and into your arms. For such a sassy little creature, Grim certainly was keen to have you carry him around when there wasn't any threat of danger.

Approaching the now growing group of students standing outside of the classroom was a red-haired man with bright green eyes. He almost seemed to saunter over to the group as he held up his phone, the sound of a camera coming from it multiple times before before he came to a halt.

"Hold on, just need to post this to Magicam and add the right tags... #froshes #latebuddies #skipday... And post!"

"Wait, Cater, don't- please tell me you didn't post a picture of us just now."

"Of course I did! Gotta keep my followers up to date on the haps at school."

"At least tell me you blurred the Human out of the photo?"

"Oh, she's here? Wait, don't tell me," the man now known as Cater was quick to get uncomfortably close to you, making Grim's ears flatten back on his head, "you're the new Human on campus! Gotta absolutely get a selfie with you and post it for Magicam, none of my non-NRC followers believe that a Human crashed our orientation! Pics so I can prove it happened! Smile!"

You tried to pull away from the overly enthusiastic man as he held up his phone and snapped two pictures before you managed to wriggle away from his grasp. He didn't seem to be put off by your behavior at all as he quickly tapped away at his phone with a smile. Trey, however, slapped the phone out of Cater's hands quickly.

"Are you crazy, Cater?"

"Woah, Trey? What's the big deal? You're usually never this riled up."

"Tell me you didn't post that selfie already."

"Just pressed post when you hit my phone outta my hands. Not cool, Trey. Totes being so unkind to Cay-cay."

"Cater!"

"What?"

"Why would you post a picture of an extinct species to the internet? Riddle told us to try and keep others from taking pictures of her and you just go right ahead and post it?"

"What's the big deal? It's not like it's illegal or something."

Trey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself. You were able to tell why Trey was mad but it seemed like Ace, Deuce, and Cater had no idea what the big deal was when he just took a picture with you. Meanwhile you were wondering if you should tell a Professor what happened and hope the older magic users could do more to help you than the students.

"Seems you all have plenty of time to talk instead of get to your classes, so how about a few extra assignments for you lot?"

The interrupting voice was a thankfully familiar one to you as you saw the limping gait of a familiar flying-cat man approaching. His steeley eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he drew closer, in his arms lay a black and white cat that seemed more than content to be carried around. You were surprised to see a normal cat in this strange world of monsters, but you figured there had to be some normal animals if these guys found eating one another as appalling as eating Humans seemed to be.

"Professor Trein."

You greeted the man quickly and the scowl disappeared from his face as he realized you were the one talking to him.

"Ah, (Y/n), I saw you would be in my class this morning. Are these students showing you around? I thought Lilia was your chosen guide."

"I told Lilia I didn't need help finding my classes, but I was wrong."

"Hm, then hopefully these boys have been aiding you thus far? You are at my classroom after all."

"Well, about that..."

"What happened?"

Trey interrupted the conversation then, seeming less upset and more exasperated than anything. Ace had been trying to sneak away, but the Horse man caught the back of his shirt and kept him from running off. He didn't even need to look at Ace to grab him and instead kept his attention on Trein.

"Cater posted a picture of (Y/n) to Magicam."

"... He what?"

Cater picked up his phone, pouting at the crack in the screen and whining loudly about it. He turned the phone to Trey as if to show the damage but Professor Trein snatched it from his hands, frustratedly tapping the dark screen as his cat climbed up to his shoulders to free up his hands. He didn't seem to get very far before turning it back to Cater in frustration.

"Unlock your phone, Mr. Diamond."

"What's the big deal? I just wanted to show off the Human."

"That is the 'big deal'! Why would you post a picture of an extinct species for anyone to see?"

"It's not like people are gonna show up just to see a Human-"

"Cater, I am now assigning you an essay due by tomorrow on the history of Humans since you clearly haven't paid attention to your course work from last year. You will also be deleting that picture and any others you make have taken of (Y/n)."

Another noise of complaint left the redhead as if he were about to start complaining but Trein silenced him with a glare.

"Fine, fine. Not like anyone is gonna do anything because of it- no way! This is the most likes any of my pics have gotten right after posting! That was no time at all-"

"Delete it!"

"I can delete the photos from my account, but its already been downloaded at least fifty times. Deleting it now won't do much-"

"Enough. Cater, to the Headmage's office, now. The rest of you get to your classes. I will be in to teach shortly, but first I need to notify the Headmage about this."

Trey herded you and the other two students into the room, closing the door behind you rather loudly. You could still hear Trein scolding Cater from behind the door and you all quickly took your seats. To your surprise, the only open seat was between the two Goats and they didn't seem all too upset by this fact. Though they seemed angry at being volunteered to be your guides, they weren't about to complain about it now with an angry professor right outside of the classroom.

You had no idea what Magicam was, but from the sounds of it, it must have been some kind of photo sharing application like Instagram from your world. If that was the case, the rest of this messed up world was about to realize that there was a Human sheltering at Night Raven College, and you were terrified at the idea of what that would mean for you.

[weclassygirl]

visions

⋆˙⟡ sauron x fem!elf!reader (witch) ⟡˙⋆

summary: the high king makes his judgement, a new path opens

warnings: none

word count: 2,3k

author’s note: here we go, part two for bound… and soon more to come, let me just get their story straight. enjoy!

”The Woodland Realm has exiled you, why should we aid and welcome you in Lindon?” no greeting, no smile, you already feel that this conversation will take a toll on you.

“Did you believe me to be dead? Or did you wish for it?” you ask and curse yourself for your tongue speaks quicker than your mind. Gil-Galad looks at you with disdain. You try to calm your growing anger. “Whatever Oropher told you is not true.”

“Is it not?” he questions and steps closer. The guards watch your every movement, waiting for you to slip up, to give them a reason to attack. “Were you not the Elf that nearly killed a fellow companion because her anger grew into rage?”

An accident. A mere accident that decided the fate of your life.

“I never meant for—“

“But you did.” he cuts you off. You look to Galadriel who stands next to Elrond, he turns away from your sight but the Commander watches the scene unfold.

You wrote to her, countless times to seek her aid. Elrond as well. All of your letters went unanswered and you thought that perhaps an order was given to burn any passage written by you.

Gil-Galad regards you. “You sought out that which is forbidden. Lindon, Greenwood or any other Elven realm will not stand by it.”

You look up at him, the golden crown that adorns his head, gleaming in the sun. He looked like an emissary from the Valar themselves. Your eyes travel to your hands, so much harm they once caused. Gil-Galad waits as you try to gather your words.

“If you wish to punish me, do so when the blade at my neck is yours. I will not be humiliated. Not again.” you say through your teeth.

The Elves whisper around you.

Witch.

Traitor.

Morgoth’s servant.

Banish her.

Send her away.

You hear another whisper, so quick you almost miss it. Almost.

“Defiance does not suit you.” Gil-Galad states. He looks down at your hands, the dark fingertips as if dipped in black ash. The marks on your body, some symbols and some written in Black Speech. The sight disgusts him and for a moment he pities you and what you’ve endured for centuries. “You will fulfill your punishment in Eregion.”

You gawk at the High King as he makes his decree. “Eregion?”

He returns to his place by the Tree and the guards flank your sides, ready to take you away. “Be glad it’s not my blade at your throat. You will be confined in chains at all times, ones that will subdue your magic. Lord Celembrimbor will see to it. He makes them as we speak.”

Chained once again. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry, perhaps it’s best not to show any emotion while the others are looking. You let the guards take you away and you cast one last glance at Galadriel and Elrond. He meets your gaze finally and bows his head. You don’t know when you will see them again.

The guards chain you and tie your hands to the reins as the company gathers. You in the middle while four of them surround you. Most of the supplies for the journey were given to you, to weigh down your horse should you try to escape.

The road goes ever winding and after a few weeks of constant travel you reach the gates of Eregion. The Elves gather on their balconies, look through the arches to catch a glimpse at you.

The word has reached here as well.

You wonder why they take such interest in you but it is quickly dismissed. You dabbled in the dark arts, once made a mistake that scarred your path and were a prisoner of Morgoth, but you never served him faithfully, only to survive. The Elves had become paranoid.

The spell you cast was an accident, your companion was alive, received a wound in the process but survived.

Your curiosity however, you could never contain it and the darkness was alluring. It’s a shame to admit to it but it's a necessary truth.

However you don’t think yourself evil, yes you were quick to anger but who wouldn’t be after years of torture?

Celebrimbor stands in front of the gates with a man by his side, he holds a wooden box. When the guards help you come down from the horse you think of making a run for it but that would only prove your actions further.

Guilty and convicted.

One of the guards gives Celebrimbor a scroll, he reads through the letter from Gil-Galad with further instructions. He nods and twists the scroll back. He looks you up and down, your dress dirty at the hem, your wrists bound in shackles once again. You looked clean, no blood, no dirt, you never attacked the guards that accompanied you.

“Well then, I assume you never were to Eregion?” he asks out of pure curiosity.

“Once. Merely passing through.” you say and look around cautiously, Celebrimbor notices.

“Be at ease. You’re here in a form of punishment but I would like to see it as a form of shared work.”

You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “What will my duties be here?”

“You,” he starts and grabs the wooden box from the man beside him. When he opens it you notice two identical bracelets made of silver. “You will be an aid in my forge, however some… requirements must be fulfilled.” he explains and takes the bracelets. He steps closer and silently asks you to give you his hands. You do so hesitantly as you cling to your magic one last time.

He puts the bracelets on your wrists and tightens them ever so slightly, you would have to cut off your thumb if you wanted to free yourself and you did not want to witness that sight.

“This will hold your magic, you can still heal yourself and others should the need arise but until the High King gives a different command, they have to stay.” he taps them slightly and you think back to the way Sauron tapped your chains so often when coming up with another ways to seduce you into darkness.

He was persistent but you were glad you had someone to talk to, even if it was Morgoth’s right hand.

A shiver runs through you and your head whips back when you hear Black Speech in your ear. Celebrimbor looks the way your eyes fell but sees no one. “What is it?”

You shake your head and slowly turn to face him. “Nothing, I…“ you look back to where the sound came from. “…thought I heard something.”

The guards look at you as they mount their horses, ready to return to Lindon. One of them stays as he awaits a letter from Celebrimbor. He gives it to him, previously written since he knew you would not resist.

The Eregion guards take over and lead you to your chambers, as you settle and clean yourself up. You stand under a stream of water and look over at the bracelets, you try to tear them away, bent them out but the metal is sturdy. A perfect craftsmanship, you would expect nothing less from the grandson of Fëanor.

A knock comes at the door, the man that accompanied Celebrimbor at your arrival.

“If you’re finished I’ll take you to the forge.” he informs you and you follow him through the halls. You’ve put on a newer dress, the old one was the only piece of clothing you were left with on your journey to Eregion. The darker shade of blue fabric clung to your body and flew behind you with each step you took.

You visited Eregion briefly, a stop on your journey to Greenwood. You used to craft as well but never bore the talent such as Fëanor’s. You used magic to create whatever your heart desired, you used it when building your home in the north of Greenwood.

The woodwork became your craft rather than precious metals and as you enter the forge you begin to miss the comfort of your home.

The Elven smiths glance at you as you enter but continue with their work. Celebrimbor comes down from the gallery to show you around. “I believe you’ll come to enjoy it, I heard you once tried to create something as well.” he asks and you look down to the beaten ring you’ve made centuries ago. The black stone inside it broken but still held within the grasps of the uneven metal.

“A foolish attempt.”

He places a hand on your shoulder. “Not foolish. Perhaps with a bit more practice…” he says, leading you to a desk where a few jewelry pieces lay. Ring with green emerald, a necklace that shone like starlight, a golden bracelet with the most detailed design you’ve ever seen. Weapons laid there as well, shining metal in the dim light, handle wrapping around the blade. You stare in awe.

“Are you certain you have not bested Fëanor yet?” you ask genuinely but think that a bit of flattery on your end might help get out of your chains quicker.

Celebrimbor smiles and gestures to the forge. “Come, we have work to do.” and you follow.

You work for years under Celebrimbor, the Elven smiths have taken to converse with you even if at first they were avoiding you like a plague. With time you have learned to enjoy the craft, a slow process but it kept your life steady. No Morgoth, no torment, a temporary home.

The only pain you felt was the lack of magic in your life. You worked as a healer from time to time but it never compared to the dark arts. Your hands trembled at times as if trying to contain the power from bursting within you. And the visions didn’t help.

They came gradually, growing more persistent with each month of your stay in Eregion. A shadow, always the same and always cunning. It whispered into your ear, showed you the power you could possess. You almost gave in the first night it came.

But you felt it the most one day in the forge.

The same piercing pain you felt when you left Forodwaith. You hold to the table you’ve been working on, the saw and the pliers forgotten on it. The sound they made drew the attention of Mirdania.

“Are you alright?” she comes to your side as you claw at the fabric above your heart. You don’t hear her and shut your eyes as the ringing in your ears grows.

Celebrimbor hears the commotion and quickly comes to see the problem. When he sees you with your hands covering your ears his sight falls on the bracelets that subdue your magic. Could they have weakened?

But there’s nothing that would indicate that you used it.

Mirdania steps aside as Celebrimbor replaces her. His hands rest on your shoulders as you open your eyes. His voice is muffled as he calls your name.

“What’s happening?”

You shake your head, unable to answer and for a split second you see the same shadow behind him, it seems to be smiling.

Celebrimbor sees your frenzied eyes and tries to point where you’re looking at. The Elvensmiths gathered look helpless as no one knows how to help you.

The shadow vanishes as quickly as it came and the ringing in your ears stop. A drop of blood flows out of your nostril and you hear it as it falls to the ground. Your hand goes to your mouth and wipes away the blood, it’s then you notice your fingers. Where once they started to fade from the lack of dark magic, the mark showed up again.

Celebrimbor looks warily, the bracelets he forged would contain your power, he would know you used it even if done so unconsciously. The situation troubles him, the High King must be informed.

You grab him by his tunic as he stands up, the look on his face telling you his intention. “Don’t tell him, please. I didn’t use it, I swear.”

“How do you explain it then?” he points to your fingers curled around the fabric.

“It’s not my doing.”

“Then who’s?” he kneels down at your eye level.

You think over his question and dread the answer. You suggest Morgoth but would his influence still remain after all these years? You think of Sauron but you witnessed his death. Forodwaith is the only answer, centuries you spend there have left a mark, for you it’s the only explanation. You could not escape darkness even if you wanted to.

“He must be informed.” he leaves you with these words and you storm out of the forge. The guards close behind you as you run to the gardens and cover yourself underneath the shadow of a tree. It’s nearly dusk and you curse under your breath in every language you know. Black Speech makes its way on your tongue unconsciously and the guards tense up.

You stay there for a while until the cold wind beats against your skin. You look down at your hands and notice the black starting to fade once more, your head rests against your knees as you look ahead.

You close your eyes when you see it again, out of the corner of your eye but ever so watchful. It takes a form this time, not of a shadow but a man. You look away and his hand slithers under your chin to make you look up at him. When you do, you see perfectly green eyes and the stubble adorning his face, he looks at you so gently you nearly forget he’s the reason for your hauntings.

“Let it in.” he whispers. “A witch should practice her craft.”He returns to shadow and passes through you.

Your breath catches in your throat as you wake up in your bed. You look around and hold your head in your hands.

What is happening?

next part -> deception

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Ngl I've been thinking about tev Yuuniverse too but explicitly the part where they all eventually have to die.

Idk I may write this as a one-shot or something if requested yk?

🙋🏽‍♂️🙋‍♀️I volunteer to request

🐱

The Murder of Yuu 

I decided to cut out the opening ceremony and chandelier cause it was boring and not an interesting read, may do a part two with a good and bad ending. It's up to interpretation if Yuu dies or lives.

Tws: Gn! Yuu, Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Potential Gore Tw??, Overall angst and stuff. 9k Words

Ace’s Fireball

“Ahahaha!” The red-head’s grating laugh reverberated in your head. “Anyways, just thought I’d tease you for a bit and I’m glad I did, it’s been a blast! Unlike you two, I actually have classes to get to!” The bratty student sneered at you and your companion before walking off. You simply rolled your eyes and continued your job. You had better things to do than to fight with some snot-nosed brat.

Grim, however, had other plans. “No way you just insulted me like that, Explodey-Head!” “Hah?” The red head glared, amused. “Who’re you callin' names, kitty-cat?” “Why you—“ Grim suddenly spewed out a plume of fire right at Ace making him yelp.

“Oh you wanna play like that, huh?!” Ace yelled. He started to send a few spells Grims way, a few missing and hitting a little too close to you. Instinctively, you backed into the Queen of Hearts statue behind you. “Cut it out you guys!” “Oh shut it, janitor!” Ace snapped, Grim threw another fireball right at Ace, just for him to cast wind redirect it… directly to the statue where you were at. You stared at the ball of flames, knowing there was no way to avoid it as you covered your eyes to try and at least protect them.

“No! Wait!” The prefect yelled before letting out a deafening shriek as the flame made contact with their face, enveloping up their skin and hair within an instant. The redhead froze as a crowd gathered around the scene, horrified murmurs and gasps erupted from within the group.

The prefect crumpled, trying their best to put out the fire and suffocate it while crying out for help. Oh shit, oh shit what has he done?! No! It wasn't his fault that stupid janitor stood where they were! Ace’s mind was in a frenzy, complete panic enveloping him as all he could do was stand in watch, the thought of putting out the poor student not even occurring to him. Grim frantically jumped around them, swatting at the flames and crying out their name. Ace tried to cast a few water spells, but they were reduced to steam the second they made contact with your skin

The familiar tapping of a pair of heels approached him, quicking as they got closer. Oh fuck he was really in trouble now. None of his spells were helping. The headmage approached the scene. “Oh dear god, Yuu!” The crow said horrified, immediately running to their side and using the magic cloak he had to put out the flame. The Prefect stopped flailing and curled into a ball, covering their face as much as they could with the cloak around them. 

Most of their clothes were either burned or singed at this point. The fingers that peaked out, looked as if they were melting as they pulled the cloak even further onto them to hide their face. “Everyone dismissed!” The mage yells out with a newfound rage, scooping up the student and rushing to the nurses office. The crowd dispersed, all trying to get back to class except for two. “H…henchman… HENCHMAN!” Grim shrieked before running off after Crowley 

And Ace just stood there, the events of everything weighing in on him. He should consider himself lucky that the headmage was too busy with Yuu to even try and figure out what happened, but instead he felt sick. The students hands and legs shook as he tried to move.

He's so sorry…

Deuce’s Recklessness

“Get away from that thing!” Grim shrieks as he sprints on all fours, running out of the mine. “But the magestone!” Deuce cries out. “We need the magestone!” “We need to be alive to get it!” Ace huffs as he pulls on Deuce’s arm to drag him out of the mines.

“No, we can't give up like this!” Deuce yells out before pulling his arm away. “Deuce! What the hell are you doing?!” Yuu cried out as the card soldier ran back into the mines, directly to the strange monster within it. “Stoones! The stones are MINE!” It screeched as it sped up to meet with Deuce.

“I can't get kicked out! I need to risk it—“ Deuce desperately wheezed. He would slide between the monster's legs and back into the mines to grab that stone, even if it killed him! Deuce was so tunnel-visioned in his own plan, he didn't even see the pickaxe ready to swing down on him.

“Deuce!” Yuu cried out. It was the last thing he heard before he felt himself being pushed into the side of the cave wall. The runner’s back collided with the rocks behind him as he collapsed onto his knees. Where he sat gave him the perfect view of what was about to happen.

Yuu pushed their entire body into him to get him out of the way, making the prefect in turn take Deuce’s place in front of the blot. As they fell, Deuce realized there was no way for them to possibly avoid the attack coming down on them. He felt sick as he watched the concerned face in front of him contort into a cry, their eyes widening as the pick lodged itself into the spine of the magicless student, coming out through their stomach

The prefect wretched, gagging as they started to cough up blood. “YUU!” Deuce panicked, throwing himself over to where Yuu was in an attempt to try and save them, just for them to be dragged into the darkness of the cave. Yuu cried out in pain as the monster held them by the pick, crying out for it to stop.

“No… NO!” Deuce was frozen as he watched the silhouette of the creature take out the pickaxe, just to lodge it into the crumpled figure’s head. “Henchman!” Grim cried. “C’mon let's go!” Deuce felt Ace grab onto his arm to pull him back onto his feet and drag him out of the cave. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“Fuck…” Ace huffed, panting, staring in disbelief at the cave in front of him. Grim also stared, face completely blank as he sat where he stood, as if processing what just happened. Deuce wretched, covering his mouth. He was so stupid! He should have never been so… so… stupid! That student, who he barely learned the name of, died because of him. Died protecting him. Just because of his stupidity. 

It was all his fault.

Riddle Overblot

“Riddle…” Trey panted, brushing the hair out of Riddle’s sweat-slicken face. The clover's face paint was smeared and his hair disheveled, hat nowhere to be seen as the man adjusts his cracked glasses. This was the first time Riddle has ever seen his friend like this. He looked panicked, shaken up. 

Something was wrong. Why did his body hurt so much? Why was his head pounding?

“Trey…?” His voice was hoarse and dry. 

“What… what happened…” The last thing he remembers was being angry… “What… what did I do?'' The last line came out weak. 

Looking over, he saw a certain problem freshman approach him, shaking with rage and tears in his eyes. His mind kept telling him to stop, that he shouldn't look at what his dorm members were crowding around, but he pushed himself up on his arms.

He was immediately hit with the scent of iron hanging heavy in the air, smell making him nauseous as it assaulted his senses. As he sat up he noticed how Cater and Deuce seemed to tense up, fear in their eyes. They were completely on edge. Ace stopped in front of Riddle, opening his mouth in an attempt to yell at him before closing it as a sob came out instead.

In that moment he realized what happened. “Who did I… Who was it?” Riddle’s voice shook as Ace glared. “Who?” Trey looked away from him, Riddle pushed himself up to his feet as he saw who Deuce stood in front of protectively as the other students backed away in fear, even Cater hiding the crowd. The spade and heart didn’t budge. Even Grim stood strong.

It was Yuu. The student who has been nothing but kind and concerned over him. The one that he berated and criticized over and over. The one he was never nice to once throughout their time at NRC. Their body now impaled through a rose bush, some of the thorny branches weaving under their skin and poking out like it was growing into them. They were not dead yet though.

Their chest twitched in an attempt to breathe and Deuce held their head up for up so they wouldn't suffocate on their own spit. With his other hand he attempted a few healing spells, but each one fizzled out from inexperience. “Dammit! Will one of you just help me!” He cried out to the crowd, but no one came.

Yuu’s eyes were watery as let out a sob. “I dont…” they wheezed. “I don't want to die like this! I never…” “Shh shh, save your energy.” Ace commanded, helping Deuce with holding them up and using the tie around his neck as makeshift bandages. “I never got to see the world…” the prefect continued. “Don’t say that!” Grim yapped. 

“I don't want to die like this, surrounded by strangers! I don't want to die alone!” Tears started to fall from everyone as the student spoke manically, each word faster than the last. “I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to be with my family! My friends! Not here! Not like this!…” The prefect started hyperventilating, now in complete hysterics. “Yuu, please!” Deuce sobbed. “I don't….” Yuu’s eyes started to glaze over. “I don't…”

Riddle shook, tears streaming down his face as hesitantly reached out his hand just to receive glares from the trio in front of him. “I’m sorry…” He stuttered. “Im so sorry…” Ace suddenly seems to snap. “Sorry isn't going to do shit! It’s not gonna bring them back!” The heart shakes, hatred evident in his eyes.

He was right.

Ruggie’s Slip-up

“Get back here!” Grim yelled as Ruggie snickered, gripping onto all of the magical pens he snagged from the freshmen. Poor poor freshies, not knowing where to stick their nose. It’s their fault they got involved. 

“Dammit he's fast!” Ace wheezed. “Don't let him get away!” the spade next to him spoke, following right on his tail. Oh this was too easy! A simple turn and he's— As Ruggie turned the corner, the flash of a camera blinded him. He blinked to see no other than Yuu, ghost camera in hand. “Caught you.” 

Shit shit shit. Did they have enough evidence? Ruggie began to sweat before he lunged at the prefect, aiming for the camera in their hand. But the prefect was slick, easily dodging the attempt. Hmph, fine, what can a simple magicless human do against this!

“Laugh with me!” Ruggie smirked as he took control of the prefect's body, what he didn’t account for was Yuu’s position— and his magic was not immune to gravity. What he planned on doing was making Yuu hand the camera to them, what he didn't realize was just how close they were to the edge of the balcony and that they were still airborne from jumping away from him.  Yuu gasped as their arm stuck out behind them, making them no longer able to catch themselves as they hit the balustrade and fell off the edge down to the ground below. 

Ruggie froze. “Yuu!” A choir of voices exclaimed as they rushed to the railing where Yuu fell from looking over. He has to retreat, now, the prefect should be fine, it's not that high up! Panicking, Ruggie dropped the magical pens in an unspoken apology as he ran off. “Holy shit that's a lot of blood…” he heard one of the freshies say. Pfft how is that possible unless they broke a bone or hit their h…ead…

Ruggie peaked over the railing as he ran, though it was far away his hyena eyes locked on to the ground below. The ghost camera’s parts were scattered across the field, and blood was splattered everywhere, originating from their head now cracked open. 

Adrenaline kicked in, and Ruggie started running faster. It was an accident, he tells himself, they'll be fine, he's done some bad stuff before but he’d never kill someone! They couldn't pin it on him anymore anyways! It was just an accident. 

It was just an accident!

Leona Overblot

Leona felt his head pounding as he sat up. The lion let out a groan as he rubs his head and looks around. Piles of sand surrounded him, and he sees some of the freshmen shakily get up, heavily bruised. Those damned Diasomnia dogs also stood about on their guard as the smallest one, Lilia, seemed to sift for the sand as if looking for something. Riddle himself was on his knees as he dug, allowing himself to get filthy. 

Across from him Ruggie sits, holding his arm that was dry and cracked from his Unique Magic. An attempt on his own vice leader's life. The hyena warily glares at him, more fearful than angry as he stares at something behind Leona. “Ruggie… I…” “Do you remember what you did?” Another voice cuts in, Lilia’s.

The lion looked at the fae that stood beside him, noting at how frantic the freshmen were in the background, digging through sand piles, even Jack was in his wolf form as raced around them. “I overblotted… Didn’t I?” Lilia’s gaze was unreadable, he didn’t look angry, however the neutral expression he had was mixed with pity. Ruggie pushes himself further away from Leona. “You did more than that,” he wheezes out as he scoots back, staring at someone behind Lilia. Leona turns to look only to see the lizard bastard walking through the sand, his guards on either side of them.

What happened? Why is everyone so worried? Why are those stupid freshmen digging about? Actually wait, where's that ramshackle scavenger? “Kingscholar,” Malleus paused, voice filled with disbelief, “What have you done?” What did he do? He didn't do whatever he think he did… right…?

With a wave of Malleus' hand, he blows away the sand gently, leaving behind a large pile of what looked like ash. Was that…?

Deuce immediately ran over, allowing himself to skid on the ground kicking up dust as examined the pile. Ace, Grim, Riddle, Jack and even Lilia kneeled down at it. “I feel something!” Riddle gasps, pushing off blackened sand to reveal an arm sticking out. The others start to carefully dig out the figure from the sand as Leona could only watch, unable to stand up. Malleus along with his retainers joined.

Leona could see the body emerge from the sand, their head carefully cradled and laid onto Malleus’ lap as the fae examined their tear-stained face covered in a layer of dust. There wasn't an inch of skin on them that wasn't dried or cracked, some of it completely breaking off to sand, muscle was exposed and oozed blood. “Careful, try not to touch them, they're still alive.” Lilia's calm voice leaves no room for argument. 

Riddle carefully holds his hand over Yuu’s body, warm light emanating from it to soothe the prefect's pain. Yuu lets out a strangled wheeze, and suddenly turns their head to the side and hacks up a mix of sand, bile, and blood. “Fuck, I’m sorry!” They cry out, wheezing, trying to catch their breath. “Back away. I’ll take care of it.” Malleus demands as the sky turns dark and cloudy. Everyone obeys, and Malleus gestures with his fingers, making whatever remains of Yuu float upwards.

Their clothes were tattered and you couldn’t even see a patch of skin on them that wasn't drowned out by cracks or blood, even their eyelids were cracked, making tears leak out easier. “It hurts… it hurts so fucking much…” Leona swallowed, standing up as he saw double and reaching out to Yuu in front of him.

“Away from the young master!” Sebek said through gritted teeth, surprisingly quiet as to not disturb Yuu further. “You have done enough already! Now stay back!” The half-fae scowled, eyes watery. Leona retracts his hand and stares at it, ignoring all the murderous stares sent his way.

He really does destroy everything, doesn’t he?

Jade’s Mistake

Jade was a calculating eel. Everything he does is done with purpose, from what he cooks to what he says, to what emotions he shows. Jade is aware of his strength as well.

Like his brother, he knows when to reign it in and hold back, humans are so much more fragile than mers, after all. He doesn’t need to use a lot of force with how dense his bones were from living in the ocean, still he does test out various assortments of forces on others. Everyone around him was his personal lab rat really, he's quite fine with being alone.

If anyone expected one of the twins to take it too far, they would have never expected it to be Jade. Jade could hardly believe it himself either. He was just doing business as usual. Jade simply had to make sure the naive little freshmen got a reality check. There was no way they could ever win against the contract they made. Azul sent them out to make sure of that, yet this human, a magicless one, of all things, seeks to oppose them? How utterly interesting, and here he thought the prefect was boring.

The freshmen's spells were nothing noteworthy, his brother's magic made it so that he didn’t even need to attempt to dodge. And yet, that magicless little prefect charged onwards despite having no way of defending themselves, as if they actually expected to somehow slip past him. Jade chuckled, making a show of his eel form as raised his tail and then dipped down to the sand, not giving Yuu a chance to react as his tail snatched them up, coiling around their waist and arms, binding them.

Floyd squealed with laughter as he watched his brother come back up to him with Yuu in tow as they kicked and squirmed, struggling against the slippery eel. “Hey! Let my henchman go!” Grim snarled as Jade flaunted the prefect in front of him. “I do wonder, do you still plan on attacking us when there's a possibility you can hurt your darling prefect?” “Dammit!” Jack huffs, and all the freshmen look at each other, unsure of what to do next.

Yuu however has not given up, they have a fire of defiance in their eye that turns Jade intrigue to excitement. They were smart, he noted, the prefect kept their arms out to their side in order to give them the most space they could muster, though it didn't matter much with his grip. They used their bound arms and their hands to push against his tail, in an attempt to unravel it, even twisting their body to loosen Jade’s hold. In response, Jade squeezed ever so tighter, yet they still didn’t give up.

They thrashed again, making Floyd cackle and Jade chuckle. This time the prefect was using their own biology against him, using the mucus on his body as a form of lubrication in an attempt to slide out despite the tight hold. Jade decided to entertain them, slightly loosening his hold on them to see the flash of hope in their eyes, before squeezing even tighter.

The prefect wheezed, then snapped their head down in attempt to bite him, only to have their face held back by him by yanking back their hair. “Aw, you poor unfortunate soul~ In pain, in need.” Jade didn’t bother to hide his sadistic smirk. “Let go of them!” Deuce yelled, making Floyd shriek with laughter once again. Yet despite everything, Yuu still kicked, still squirmed. Just how much would it take for them to stop? It would be a great experiment~

Jade tightened his grip, not even allowing for the slight squirm, yet the prefect continued to kick their legs out, this time more panicked. Tighter, and tighter, and— Crack!

Floyd suddenly snapped his head over his brother, looking at his prey. “Yuu? YUU!” Ace was the first to try and swim up to the tweel, not caring if he was attacked. The prefect's eyes were glossy, their body stiff, but they were alive as they writhed in pain. Jade completely unraveled around Yuu, allowing them to slip out. He grabbed at them, trying to assess the injury done to them, just for them to pull away. He assumed they were going to swim off to Ace but they didn’t.

They cough out bloody air bubbles as they hold their throat as if they were suffocating, before using what was left of their strength to swim up towards the surface. The tweels understood immediately. Jade wrapped his tail around them gently, and Floyd gripped onto him to help propel them to the surface faster, the student shivering the whole time.

Once they breached, Yuu took a deep breath of air before throwing up seawater trapped in their lungs. Jade laid out on the surface to give Yuu more of an area to work with as he tried to see what was broken. Yuu was still shivering for some reason, was it just adrenaline? 

“Little shrimp, are you okay?” Floyd asked, voice laced with panic. In the distance the other freshmen breach the surface, looking around for the tweels that blended in with their environment seamlessly. Yuu seemed to gurgle. Despite the fact they had air, they were still suffocating. But from what?

Suddenly Yuu coughed more blood, trying to choke in air as they crumpled onto Jade, smearing his chest a deep red. They shivered more and more. The realization hit Jade. “Their ribs must punctured their lungs.” Jade notes, and he tries to sit Yuu's body up as it starts to go limp. 

“Yuu!” Grim huffs as he swims over to the tweels and reaches out to his leader. “Geez, you're freezing! Come on, come on! Let's get you back to some heat!” Jade's eyes widened further as another realization hit him. Grim and the other freshmen were completely dry still from the effects of their potion. Yuu on the other hand has goosebumps all over their body and trembled. The potion must have worn off when their lungs were punctured, and now it was a race between them choking on their blood and hypothermia.

“Yuu!” Deuce cried out, “Give them back, we need to take them to the nurse!” They were practically already dead. “Shrimpy? Shrimpy? Little shrimp! Hey!” Floyd lightly shook the human. “They won't make it to the nurse. Our best bet is a mer doctor.” Jade suddenly commanded, casting a warming spell on his body. “Floyd, using a water breathing spell, hurry!” 

The freshmen cursed at the eels as they swam off in a frenzy, Yuu cradled gently in Jade's arms as the two glid through the water with ease. “Hang in there prefect, help is almost here.” Jade spoke, though for once it was more to soothe himself as adrenaline and guilt coursed through him. 

Humans really were weak, huh?

Floyd’s Mistake

As you imagine, it was during the photo heist of book 3 as well. It just so happened that this time, Yuu ended up in Floyd’s grasp instead. His slip up could have been seen a mile away. Everyone expected it, they just never expected it to be so violent. 

Floyd liked the little shrimpy! They were fun and squishy and never boring! They always got into some sort of trouble, and here they were literally signing up for it as they signed the contract that started it all. Even when he confronted them in the cafeteria, they would shy away until he started to mess with their friends, then suddenly the little shrimp became a mantis shrimpy.

To say Floyd was excited to meet shrimpy in the water was an understatement, he was elated! He couldn't wait to see how his little shrimp would fight back against the big bad eels! Would they be boring and give up? Or will they fight to the very end?

Floyd relished the panicked expression on their face when they saw the shadow of his figure in the water before he came into the view. The shock became a fiery determination that Floyd was going to have fun toying with. The annoying freshies fired their annoying spells at him that he didn’t even entertain dodging, opting to just use his magic instead.

The little shrimp had no magic, so what were they gonna do in the water? Floyd looked at the group of freshies just to see that Yuu wasn't there. Did the shrimpy decide to go back? That doesn’t seem like shrimpy though. Floyd looked around, just for his eyes to catch onto a small figure hiding amongst the seaweed during all of the crossfire. Ah so that's what shrimpy’s trying to do! What a smart little shrimpy!

The eel cackles maniacally as he dives down and snaps his tail around Yuu in a violent motion, knocking the wind out of them in one move. Floyd then swims back to Jade, showing off his catch. “Jade, looky looky~ I caught myself a little shrimpy!~” Floyd teases as he gently shakes the prefect.

“Hold your spells, they got Yuu!” Jack warned the others as they held back a spell, cursing under their breaths.  “Ahahah! Whatcha small fry gonna do now?” Floyd teases. “Floyd, you should consider binding your preys arms, you know?” “Eh but it's boring if they can't do anything, huh shrimpy?” Floyd uses the remainder of his tail to make Yuu nod before laughing again.

Yuu swings as Floyd, just for the eel to lean back. “Nice try!~” The eel's voice suddenly drops lower into a more threatening and serious tone. “You don't seriously think you're winning, are you?” Yuu kicks and pushes at the tail wrapped around them. “Okay I get we're fighting but you're squeezing too tight Floyd! It hurts!” Yuu uses their fists to pound against Floyds tail.

“Oh yeah? Really? I say its not tight enough…” “Floyd.” His brother's warning falls on deaf fins as Floyd leans in face-to-face with Yuu before squeezing tighter, making Yuu cough and tear up. Just as Floyd was about to let go, satisfied with his warning, Yuu suddenly shoves their fingers into the gills on Floyd’s neck violently gripping the slits of flesh. “Let go of me, you fucking bastard! I can’t breathe!” The prefect screams.

Floyd lets out a strangled gasp as he coughs, the feeling of Yuus nails scratching the inside of his throat making him feel nauseous. Their other hand finds the gills on his sides and pinches them roughly. Floyd then violently digs his claws into Yuu’s arm, making them straighten out their fingers in pain, enough for him to yank them out with ease. Yuu let out a cry of pain, but he doesn't loosen his grip at all, rather driving his claws in deeper. His other hand grabs onto Yuu’s neck in effort to push them away further without compromising his hold.

“Bad shrimpy!” Floyd yells. “Floyd please, I'm sorry but I need to—“ Snap.

“Shrimpy?” Yuu was limp, Floyd shook them slightly. “Hey shrimpy! This isn't funny! Shrimpy! Come on, Shrimpy!” There was no response. “Yuu… I…” A blast of flora hits Floyd in the chest, making him drop Yuu, the prefect unable to hold up their own head. “Get them and get out!” Grim yelps as the trio of students go to grab their friend. Deuce holds onto Yuu, holding their head carefully and applying pressure to the puncture wounds on their neck.

Floyd freezes and looks at his grip on their arm. His claws threatened to go all the way through and the bones were both now broken. Yuu let out a painful shriek, but it was off, garbled. Floyd looks over to his grip on Yuu's neck, his claws digging deep into their throat.

“Guys, they aren't breathing!” Deuce’s voice is shrill with terror. “Get them back through the portal now!” Jack yells. The students all book it back to NRC. Floyd watches with Jade, before the two start to swoop in, hoping they can help the group get back faster just to have a fireball thrown at them.

“You! You've both done enough! Stay away from my human!” Grim growls. “I understand your reservations but we're trying to help.” Jade attempts to soothe. “Yeah right! Like I trust you! I don't care if I get beat up here, which I won't! I'm not letting you hurt them!” Grim stands strong, unleashing another fireball for them to dodge

"You twins wouldnt get it, you have each other! You've always had each other, a nice family, a home! I never had any of that! Then one day, BAM the nicest henchman ever appears and helps me get into my dream school!” Grim is sobbing at this point.

“And they supported me the whole way through! Even though I’m not even human! Even when I get in trouble, they still treat me like I'm the best thing that ever happened to them despite my race! And now they might..!” Grim shakes. 

“I'm not letting you near them! Not now! Not ever!”

Azul Overblot

Azuls eyes fluttered open, blurry vision clearing up to see Jade kneeling over him. “Are you up? Can you see me okay? Can you hear me?” “Yes… yes I can…” His throat hurt, his body was sore. “Follow my hand…” Jade waves his hand over Azul’s face to see if his eyes track it. Azul shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them again to look at Jade, his hair a disheveled mess. He could hear Floyd crying in the background.

“What… What happened? What’s going on??” Azul rubbed his forehead as he sat himself up. “It's Yuu! They’re dead!” “What?!” Azul snapped himself up just to hold his head in pain at the sudden movement. “Don’t say that!” Grim screeches at Floyd. “They can pull through!”

“Stop hovering!” Leona barks at Floyd as he props up the prefect on his lap. “We need to give them CPR now before anything else, they won't even be able to make it to the nurses otherwise.” Leona says as he ties back his hair. “You guys, their ribs are gonna have to break even more, prepare to heal them.” Leona presses his mouth to the prefects, blowing in air and giving rough chest but rhythmic chest compressions to them, the sound of cartilage crackling and snapping made Azul cringe inwardly as an invertebrate as he looked over at Yuu.

Their skin was paler than before from the lack of oxygen was the first thing he noticed, it was hard to really see what he had done with the amount of people crowding them. As he shakily stood up, he watched as other dorm members slowly back away from him in fear. This is what he always wanted, why does it feel wrong now?

Looking over Leona, he froze at the sight of Yuu’s body, they looked like they were stretched out, certain parts of them looked crushed or exploded. There was suction all over them, most of them taking off the skin underneath from how hard they gripped onto them. Azul trembled and he looked over at Jade, who’s expression was unreadable until he looked at him, a sad disappointment in his eyes, like he expected better.

Floyd on the other hand looked utterly distraught as he held onto Yuu’s hand, mumbling about the shrimpy staying strong under his breath. Ruggie was for once, concerned about someone else besides himself as he watches Yuu completely unsettled. 

Jack looks up at Azul before looking away as if offended to even keep eye contact with him. The others were too focused on Yuu to even notice except Ace, who had nothing but malice in his eyes. “Was anything ever enough for you?” He spat. “You had everything! But it was never enough, huh?!” “Ace not now,” Deuce nudged the red head. “Fine, but I will say that at least now people will never mess with you again! Just like you wanted, right?” Deuce nudges Ace again. As the CPR continues for an uncomfortable amount of time, Azul realizes the possibility that Yuu is probably gone for good. Azul teared up.

He always was that pathetic little crybaby.

Jamil Overblot

“Now GO!” Jamil screeched, throwing the group of mages that opposed onto the broken pillar of the dorm. He lifted the pillar up with a wave of his hand and set to aim it at the horizon, until he saw them. That damned prefect that started it all.

If it wasn't for them, he would have won, he would be free right now! His eyes darkened as he locked onto them, grinning wryly at the fearful expression on their face. He held out his hand to Yuu in a flicking motion, the floating pillar staying in place. “Yuu get out of the way!” Floyd rasped, voice on the verge of giving out from how much we was screeching.

Flick.

The pillar flew straight into Yuu’s abdomen, sending the entire squad flying way out in the distance. A sense of peace filled the young man's mind as he relaxed, allowing his brainwashed servants to care for him. The weight of what he just did not set in on him. In his mind he now won, and he remembers the weight of everything lifted off his shoulders as his reign continued.

The very next thing he remembered is his pounding head, and a muffled voice resonated in his head, his ears were ringing and everything around him was so bright. “…mil… Jamil…. Jamil!” The viper’s eyes shoot open and he takes a deep breath of air. “Jamil!” Kalim cries, crushing Jamil into a hug and sobbing.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I didn’t know how you’ve been feeling this whole time! If I knew, this would have never happened. We could have been best friends! You wouldn’t have blotted! And… Yuu…” The mere mention of their name, makes Jamil push himself up harshly, the blurry memory of what happened moments before weighing in. Fuck, fuck, fuck that pillar! That’s at least a broken rib, and at worst…

“Floyd, stop crowding them, they need space right now!” Azul scolds in the background, Jamil’s gaze follows the voice and he forgets to breathe. “Prop them on their side, both their back and ribs are too injured. Focus your magic on this point," "Yes, Jade!” A few of the students say. Jamil stares at the body in front of him, borderline unrecognizable. Their front looked as though it was caved in, and as they are turned to their side he saw that most of the muscle and skin looked as though it was shredded off of them, whatever skin they had left was covered in friction burns. Clothes they once wore, now scraps.

Jamil doesn’t feel relief in the slightest when he hears them let out a weak, strangled cry of pain. The fact they’re alive at all is a miracle, but death would have been a much better mercy. When they recover, would they even be able to be the same? The wary glances from the other dorm members in the room tell him they’re all thinking the same thing.

“Hey! Let us in, let us in!” A few voices ring out in the distance, and Grim perks up. “Deuce! Ace!” The cat cries out, refusing to move from Yuu’s side. The pair burst into the common room, out of breath. “Grim, we got your guy’s message! Are you okay where’s—“ Deuce freezes, trembling when he sees what the cat stood in front of. “N-no way… please don't tell me that's…” 

Ace turns his hands into fists. “Who did this?! Which one of you did this to them?! I fucking kill you!” Jamil spaces out, only able to stare at the back of his most unfortunate victim. The voices in the background of the trios arguing in the background faded as he allows Kalim to shake and hug him.

He was never going to get his freedom.

Vil Overblot

“..il…Vil!” Vil groggily opened his eyes to the sound of Rook's voice, sitting himself up as he looked around. “You’re alright…” Another voice said, but it was strained and weak. “We thought you were dead.” The leader tried to look at the source of the voice, just for his vision to blur. He blinked a few times and pinched the bridge of his nose before opening his eyes again tiredly, just for his tired expression to change to horror.

“Yuu?!” Vil boomed before letting out a cough. The magicless student in front of him looked horrible, acid burns across their arms and part of their face that burned off the first few layers of skin along with pitch black, discolored veins that surged with poison even after his blot. They had a pained expression as they panted, shaking as they stood and gripped one of their arms.

Some of their skin looked like it was already peeling. Epel had the student lean on him as Jamil casted some restoration magic on them, just for it to fizzle out or be ineffective. A frustrated and baffled expression grew on the scarabian's face. Ignoring his own dizziness, Vil stood up with the help of Rook. He approached Yuu who was on the verge of passing out.

Charging up his own curing magic in his hand forming a ball, he held it close to Yuu before unleashing it. Everyone around him looked relieved and Kalim was practically beaming. A bright flash of light blinded the group before fading and everyone looked at Yuu expectantly, waiting for their blackened veins to fade. A few seconds passed, then a minute. Nothing was happening.

“Are they okay now?” Kalim asked dumbly. “Do they look okay?” Ace rebuttals. No, something was wrong. It was his spell, his poison, why wasn’t it working? Searching through his mind through all of his knowledge of poisons, he casts another spell to try and counteract it instead. Nothing happens. Panic started setting in. His expression grew more and more concerned, making the students around him worry. 

“Good grief what happened here…” Another voice echos among the ruins of the stage. “M-Malle-“ Deuce stuttered out, unable to finish the name. “Oh, hey Tsunotaro! You… came at a bad time…” “Tsunotaro?!” Jamil, Rook, Vil, and the freshmen erupt. “Dude are you trying to get finished off?!” Ace whisper-yells.

At the sight of his injured friend, Malleus’ expression becomes shocked, then grows dark. “Child of Man, what happened?” The group all went silent, even Vil didn’t speak. He wanted to claim responsibility then and there, but he knew that right now, Malleus would only listen to Yuu. Yuu tries to speak, starting a sentence just to stop.

“I… I don't know… I don't know what I was thinking…” “Come with me, you require serious medical help.” Malleus offers his hand for Yuu to take and put their weight on. “But the stage…” “You’re concerned about the stage in your state?” “… Crowley is probably going to blame me for it…”

Malleus pauses, and raises his hand, the rubble of the stage lifting back up to reassemble itself. As the others stare in awe, Malleus leaves with Yuu in his arms.

***

Vil was about to open the door to the nurses office until he heard two voices talking. It was Malleus and some of the medical staff he assumed.

“Mr… sir… uhh. Prince Malleus, about your friend…”

“Yes? What about them?”

“Do you happen to know their blood type? We have tested their blood and it’s not like anything we have seen before, hell the dna samples we took they’re… otherworldly…”

“I see… If that's the case…” Malleus sighs. “I don’t know anything relating to their health.”

“We are trying every treatment we can for magic or poisons but none are effective, sir, they are completely… ineffective.”

“I see…”

“Um… Prince Malleus, I do not mean to be rude but um, could your magic be used to heal them..?”

Vil’s breath hitched.

“I cannot. I originally planned to use a curing spell and then take them into Diasomnia for recovery, but my magic didn't work either.”

“How…? Are they cursed or something?!

“Perhaps it is because of their origin—”

Vil felt sick. He was killing them slowly.

Grim’s Freakout

You hoped to examine that strange blot gem that Vil dropped, and made sure to take extra precautions hiding it from Grim. As dumb as it sounded, you felt as though these were important somehow, that maybe they can help you find your way home. You placed it down on the nightstand after examining before heading off to use the bathroom. In retrospect, you probably should have put it up or hid it, as when you came out of the bathroom you immediately heard the familiar sound of your companion crunching down on something. 

“Agh! Grim, no! Don’t!” Yuu rushed into the room but was too late, not even a shard of the gem was left. “Grim! I told you to stop eating those!” Grims mind was hazy as his body started processing the effects of the gem, Yuu's voice faded in and out. “I hid from you cause I KNEW… And now what?! That was my only lead… I’ve been here for a YEAR fixing everyone’s problems…. And I just want to— Grim? Grim, are you okay?”

Grim looked up at the human that was reprimanding them. For a moment, he recognizes them, their stressed and tear-stained face made him feel bad for a moment, until his vision blurred. He grabbed his head in pain and felt himself being worriedly picked up and examined. “Grim! Hey! Grim!”

When his vision returned, the world was darker, the face that was a friend now foe as it was blacked out and blurry. “Grim are you—AAGHHH! NO STOP PLEASE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS?! YOU’RE MY FRIEND!”

***

Deuce and Ace ran into the Ramshackle dorm at the emergency text they received.

> Theres aN emercy at ramshckle! SOmething happened to Grim please hirty

Yuu would never mess around like this for a prank. Something bad must have happened, they run through the halls and practically body slam into the mirror leading to Ramshackle. From there they run through into the dorm. “YUU! Hey Yuu! YuuuuUUUUU!”

Ace yelled out before panting. “I swear if its nothing…” “Come on let's go check their room.” Deuce offers, taking the lead up the stairs and wiping the sweat off his brow. “Yuu!” He calls, “We got your text…” Ace grumbled and followed Deuce, lagging slightly. Deuce reaches the top, freezing when he hears a soft sob. “Did you hear that?” “Hear what?”

Deuce sighs, a serious expression emerging as he quickens his pace to the door. “Yuu? Are you in there?” Deuce knocked on the door just for it to open as he did so. Ace looked at his friend as he made his way over. He watched as Deuce's expression become terrified before turning into utter devastation. His wide eyes glaze with tears and he covers his mouth with his hands, gagging slightly.

“Geez man what did you s—“ Ace stood next to Deuce and was immediately hit with the scent of blood and something burning, he glanced at the floor which had a blood trail coming out of the room. Following the trail slowly, he stared into the room and froze. He felt as though he was going to puke.

Blood and soot covered everything. The curtains and furniture along with the walls have scorch marks and dried blood on them. The sheets and mattress of the bed were torn up and soaked with blood, blankets still smoking from the recent flames that were put out. The mirror on the wall was pitch black. Worst of all was Yuu.

They were curled into a ball in the center of the bed, trying their best to cover their face, or what remained of it. There were claw marks exposing bones of the prefect's skull, which was completely drenched in their own blood. Some of the wounds cauterized from the flames that were blown on them. Fingers melted together. Patches of skin looked as though they were still burning, yet worst of all were their eyes.

The eyelids on one of their eyes were torn off, exposing their eyeball that stared off in the distance, and the other appeared to be soldered shut. Ace shook. “Holy shit… Holy shit!” Ace gags, and the sound elicits another sob from Yuu. “Holy shit! You're… You're alive!”

Deuce moves first, running over and cradling Yuu’s face looking for a pulse. Ace follows and reaches out before retracting a hand, not knowing what to do. “I’m… I… Cmon, let's take them to the nurse!” “On it.” Ace helps Deuce lift the prefect, pulling out his phone and messaging his Dormleader with the news, begging him to contact Crowley.

They couldn’t die like this.

Idia Overblot

Idia awoke to the sound of sirens blaring. In his tired state, he didn’t recognize what it was at first, the sirens screeching faint before getting louder. Idia jerked awake from where he was and was greeted by a sobbing Ortho who practically squeezed him. “Ortho? I… Eh… What’s going on?” The announcer on the speakers kept repeating the word “Overblot In Progress'' like a mantra, before Ortho gave the command to shut off the sound, red lights still flash and all screens on the walls keep the warning up. That was strange, he was no longer blotted, and any phantom that unfroze should have been frozen again.

Idia gets up from the bench he was laid on and looks around, recognizing that he’s in one of the many lab rooms of Styx. Many scientists hovering around the holograms projected on the table or at the computers mashing their keyboards. The previous blots, along with Rook and Epel were also hovering around the tables with wide-eyed expressions. “Ortho what's happening?”

“Shroud!” One of the scientists yells. “There is an emergency, we need your guidance!” “Wh…” Idia’s head felt like it was splitting in half. Looking around he cant help but feel someone is missing, but he didn’t have time to think about it. “Ortho, report!”

“There’s an abnormal Overblot occurring down in the phantom chambers! We have never seen anything like it before!” “Abnormal? What do you mean by that?” Epel interrupts, spitting words with a venom and letting his accent out. “It means ma best pardner who happens t' be magicless is currently filled with blot!” “That’s not possible! What do y…”

Idia pushed through the other members around the table seeing what was unfolding. A menacing figure stood in the middle of phantoms, all of which pushing and stampeding across each other to reach them. The figure looked like a huge humanoid made of ink, limbs abnormally long and outstretched reminding Idia of some beast from a soulsborne game. Its face was blank aside from two glowing eyes that keep getting brighter and brighter, within them, you can see a figure trapped within the beast.

Idia immediately started typing on one of the keyboards, attempting to input the freeze command just for it to fail over and over. He sweated as he tried to input a few others, just for the same error to pop up. “C’mon c’mon c’mon…” Idia opened the code to try and troubleshoot, if any of the phantoms reach where Yuu is—

“HENCHMAN!” Grim screamed, making Idia nearly crack his neck from how fast he looked up. The phantoms reached the blot creature, immediately being absorbed into the creature, getting bigger and bigger, inky geysers swirled around the figure, then it shook. “Readings say blot implosion is happening sir—-AUGH!”

The entire facility shook. Within an instant, the impossible amount of blot condensed and swirled into the student within the figure. A deep darkness flashed like a light, and suddenly, Yuu was suspended in the air, before they suddenly dropped. For a moment, all the alerts cleared, and zooming in on Yuu showed they were breathing. 

“Ortho can you get a scan?” “Scanning… All vitals are sta…ble…?” “That doesn't sound good…” Leona groaned. The alarms went off again, this time louder and more frequent. “Ortho, turn it down!” “On it!”  A new warning appeared everywhere. “God-Level Phantom detected.” "God level?" Jamil gawked.

“How could this happen?” A few scientists moan. 

“No person would ever do this!”

“Idia, sir! Their DNA! It matches nothing from this world!”

“sir, there has appeared to have been a significant amount of blot in them before!”

Idia paled and a realization hit him. They are not from this world, and so they would have a different reaction to being in contact with blot… They have also been the one common denominator in every blot at NRC, they were in contact with each one, no one has ever been around that many overblots in such a short period of time … That blot. It must have accumulated in them, and they never had enough time to fully heal before their contact with the next one. It must have been clawing its way into them since the very beginning.

Still, a god leveled phantom… Nothing like this has happened since the war of Gods millennia ago! There was no tech that could even handle that… Idia looked at the cameras again. Yuu trembled, before standing—no, floating— to their feet. They looked normal aside with their roughed up clothes, but something felt off. The way they stood, they way their head hung down. It wasn’t Yuu. Black smoke seemed to emanate off them, causing the NRC bunch to start yammering.

They suddenly lifted their head, making direct eye contact with the camera, eyes glowing. Ferrymen rushed into the chamber, all surrounding Yuu before firing their weapons, but nothing hit. The once magicless student just simply raised their hand, lifting everyone in a tidal wave of blot before washing them out. They then grabbed one of the men, tearing off their mic and speaking into it.

“Release us.” Idia paled. “What the hell…” Epel whispered. “Release us… Shroud…” Idia gestured for the intercom. “You know I can’t do that Yuu.” Yuu stayed eerily calm, but this time when they spoke, Idia felt sick. “Please brother… It's been years. I want to be free!” Idia and Ortho shared looks of horror as they went through the stages of grief all at once.

“It's dark down here. I’m scared.” Idia hands shivered. “I’m sorry Ortho, you know what has to happen. Please just… Don’t fight it…” Idia, this time, put in another command, finger hovering over the button. “Ortho, prepare for evacuation.” He pressed the button. The entire chamber started flooding with temperatures reaching lower than ever allowed in the facility, and in a larger amount than ever done before.

Ferrymen and scientists all started escaping and running out of the facilities, the NRC students chauffeured on the hovering vehicles Idia commanded as everyone made it for a safe point on the surface of the ocean. “I can't believe it…” Rook mumbles. “Just like that…” Riddle says in a daze.

The students were all quiet for the first time in the entire trip there. Idia could only stare at the ocean as he sobbed.

“I'm sorry Ortho… I'm sorry Yuu…”

Malleus Overblot

“Can I… Help you with something…?”

The storms over NRC have yet to fade, and each day the weather only seems to get worse. It has been two weeks since that fateful day. Two weeks when he was defeated and everyone was free for the price of them. Two weeks when one of the best humans he has ever known was taken from him.

“They aren’t dead yet, Malleus.” Lilia replied, standing in the doorframe of his room as Malleus continued to stare melancholically out the window. He closed his eyes. “I know.” “So why are you already mourning? There's still hope.” Malleus doesn't respond. “It is unfair to everyone to ruin the weather, you know?” Usually the fae wouldn’t try to push Malleus when he’s already upset, but many of the streets have started flooding on Sage Island.

Silence hung in the air until Malleus broke it. “It’s impossible. They will never wake up.” “They could. It will just take—" "True loves kiss.” Malleus finishes. “But that is impossible for them, and you know it too.” Malleus turned around to look at Lilia, it was one of the rare times you could see the ancient fae mourn as well. “But there is a chance.”

Malleus shook. “The only one that had a chance was Grim for a familial love… but the spell does not for allow monsters.” Silence hung in the air again and before Lilia could open his mouth to speak again, Malleus did. “Please Lilia, leave me be.” Lilia deflated and turned to leave. 

His fingers dig into the windowsill. “Enough!” He booms. “There is no way for them to ever get a true love's kiss in this world. Some stranger cannot develop true love for the idea of them. Every student here has not been true enough to their feelings for them in a proper way for any sort of love to develop, and there is no way it could ever be me, not after what I have done!” 

***

Malleus stood in your room, or rather, your room in Ramshackle. Around and on your bed were offerings of all sorts. Snacks, flora, cards, plushies along with an assortment of other items surrounded you from students across both NRC and RSA. It was probably the only time that foreign students were allowed on campus without issues. 

He stood over you. You are just as peaceful as ever, and the sight of your unconscious body only continues to remind him of what he did. How after you defeated him, and awoken everyone, you seemed tired. And during the brief period of celebration, the fanfare, as everyone woke up and started to appreciate you, you collapsed. 

He worried that it was from a more severe injury he couldn't see. You were a bit roughed up. Some minor burns on your arms and bruises painting your body. There were a few nasty cuts you bled from, but surely they weren't enough to cause blood loss? Students saved you from your fall, checking for injuries and using magic.

A tear fell onto you as he hovered over you, black hair forming a curtain, he didn't even realize he was crying. “Oh dear, I’m sorry about…” The fae couldn't get the words out. He gently wiped the tear off of your face as he admired it closer. You were beautiful. His breath hitched, as he adjusted your face to fit his, then pressed his lips to yours, hoping that by some miracle, it was true love. 

The fae finds it both amusing and frustrating that nearly everyone in this school seemed to have only noticed how much they appreciate and care for you, after you are no longer with them. It's not fair… It's not fair to you at all. You've done so much.

He already knew the answer though. He was one of the students that didn’t allow for his feelings to develop enough for true love. Your still-sleeping face proved that. If only we were more open, if he approached you first…

You’re gone.

[dovesdreaming]

Tides of fate

Summary: You’re silver mists daughter and grew up with Harry hook in neverland. When you were sent away to Auradon you thought you had lost him forever until a chance encounter on the isle when you helped mal.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

You had always loved the water. As the daughter of Silvermist, one of the most graceful water fairies in Pixie Hollow, the gentle ripples of a stream or the crashing waves of the ocean had been your constant companions. But it wasn’t just the water that held your heart, it was the boy you used to share it with. Harry Hook. Back in Neverland, when you were both just children, you had found a friend in Harry. The son of Captain Hook was wild, adventurous, and fearless, everything you admired but didn’t quite have the courage to be. He loved the thrill of the sea, and you loved the way he made you feel like you could do anything, be anything, as long as you were together. But life in Neverland wasn’t all adventures and endless days. Eventually, your mother decided it was time for you to leave the island, to see the world beyond its shores. Harry had wanted to come with you, but his father wouldn’t allow it, and so you had been torn away from your closest friend, leaving behind the only home you had ever known. You were sent to Auradon, a place where everything was bright and perfect, but also stifling in its orderliness. You tried to fit in, to make friends, but no one understood you like Harry had.

The endless parties, the gowns, the formalities. They all felt so hollow without the freedom and chaos of Neverland. You had only recently found friends just under a year ago when the villain kids came to Auradon. You saw how they were somewhat similar to Harry in their behaviour, how they loved mischief. You were slowly welcomed into their group and while you still felt as though a part of you was missing at least some of the whole had been filled with a similar friendship. But then, everything changed when Mal decided to return to the Isle of the Lost. She was determined to rescue Ben, and something deep within you stirred, a longing you hadn’t felt in years. You didn’t know what you were hoping for, but you knew you had to go with her. And so, you found yourself sneaking onto the Isle, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d find Harry again. You didn’t know where he had ended up after you left but an island full of mischief was your best bet at finding your Mischievous pirate.

The Isle of the Lost was nothing like you’d imagined. It was dark, grimy, and utterly devoid of the magic and wonder that had filled your childhood in Neverland. The air was thick with despair, and the streets were a labyrinth of alleys and shadows. You hoped if Harry was here he was ok. You clung to Mal’s side as the group made their way through the winding streets, but your heart wasn’t in the mission. All you could think about was the possibility of seeing Harry again. What would he be like after all these years? Would he even remember you?

Your thoughts distracted you so much that you didn’t notice when you strayed too far from the group. By the time you realized you were alone, Mal and the others were nowhere to be seen. Panic surged through you as you wandered the unfamiliar streets, the darkened buildings looming above you. Every noise made you jump, every shadow seemed to hide some unknown danger. But then, as you turned a corner, you saw something that made your heart skip a beat.

A figure stood at the end of the alley, his back turned to you. Even in the dim light, you recognized him, the familiar outline of his hat, the long coat that brushed the ground (shorter on him now that he had grown), the ever-present hook gleaming at his side.

“Harry?” you called out, your voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.

He froze, and for a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the Isle. Then, slowly, he turned around, his blue eyes wide with shock as they met yours. “Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you took a step forward. “It’s me, Harry. It’s really me”.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The years of separation, the pain of being torn apart, they all seemed to melt away as you looked at each other. Then, with a shaky laugh, Harry closed the distance between you and pulled you into a tight embrace, his hook carefully positioned to avoid hurting you. “I thought I’d lost you forever” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. You clung to him, burying your face in his chest as tears of relief streamed down your cheeks. “I missed you so much, Harry. I never wanted to leave you”. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to memorize every detail. “You’ve changed” he said softly, his gaze lingering on your features. “But you’re still the same Y/N I remember”.

You smiled through your tears, reaching up to cup his face with your hands. “And you’re still the same Harry, just a bit more piratey and grown up”. He chuckled, the sound bringing a warmth to your chest that you hadn’t felt in years. “Aye, that I am. But you… you’re still my fairy”.

For a while, the two of you simply stood there, lost in each other’s presence, as if trying to make up for all the time you’d lost. You told him about your life in Auradon, how different it was from the freedom of Neverland, and he shared stories of his time on the Isle, the struggles and the battles he’d faced. “I always wondered what happened to you” Harry admitted, his voice soft as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “I thought about you every day, hoping you were okay”. “I thought about you too” you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Auradon felt so empty without you”. He sighed, his grip on you tightening just a bit. “If I’d known you were there, I would have found a way to come to you”.

The thought of Harry trying to find you, despite the barriers that separated your worlds, made your heart ache. “But we’re here now” you said, trying to smile. “And that’s what matters”. Harry nodded, his eyes darkening with a mix of emotions. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again, Y/N. I lost you once, and I’m not losing you again”.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard voices calling your name. You turned to see Mal, Evie, and the rest of the VKs running towards you, their expressions a mix of relief and concern.

“Y/N!” Mal shouted, skidding to a stop in front of you. “We were so worried! What happened?”. You glanced at Harry, who was watching the VKs warily, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I… I found Harry” you said, your voice hesitant. Mal’s eyes flicked to Harry, her expression softening slightly. “Harry Hook”. Harry nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “Aye. And I’m not letting her go”. Mal seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding once looking at your expression and the pleading in your eyes. “We need to get back to Auradon. Ben’s waiting, and we can’t risk staying here any longer”. You felt a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving Harry again, but before you could say anything, Harry spoke up. “I’m coming with you”.

The VKs exchanged surprised glances, but Mal nodded. “Alright. But if you’re coming with us, you’ll need to keep a low profile. We can’t risk drawing too much attention”. Harry smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Low profile? Not exactly my style, but for my fairy, I’ll try” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It was the first time in years that you felt truly whole,?like you’d found the missing piece of your heart.

The journey back to Auradon was surreal. Harry stayed close to you the entire time, his presence a comforting reminder that you were no longer alone. The VKs were cautious around him at first, but they quickly warmed up to him, especially after seeing the way he looked at you. When you finally arrived back in Auradon, Harry was in awe of the bright, pristine world that was so different from the Isle. But even as he marveled at the beauty around him, he never let go of your hand, as if afraid that you might disappear if he did. Life in Auradon took some adjusting too, but with you by his side, Harry managed to find his place. The other students were wary of him at first, but it didn’t take long for them to realize that there was more to Harry Hook than met the eye. His loyalty, his fierce protectiveness of you, and his undeniable charm quickly won them over. And as for you, you finally felt at home in Auradon. With Harry by your side, the world felt brighter, more vibrant. The days of missing Neverland were behind you because you had found something even better, someone who knew you, who understood you, and who loved you for exactly who you were.

[cowboygenesis]

1/2 fatum invenit | gale x reader

part 1 of the "fatum" mini-series.

summary: you've loathed each other since the dawn of his first arrival. it never should've worked, but somehow, as you find yourself chest-to-chest within a sunken crypt with no way out, your feelings finally surface— and Gods, do they cut deep.

pairing: gale dekarios x sorceress!durge!reader tags: fluff, angst, tons of cursing, mutual pining, forced proximity, enemies/rivals to lovers. word count: 5.3k notes: whew, here we are at last. if you've read "knuckle up" you might find the ending a little similar but... what can i say, im a softie. also, the durge aspect of the reader is truly very minimal, i just added it for the sake of flavor, whatevah... oh, and reader is super cheeky and generally curses a lot, im case that's something that bothers you. i want this to be a two-parter eventually, so expect some smut in the future chapter. as always, let me know what you think! enjoy! masterlist.

You… you fucking knew it. The one time in your life you decide to give a wizard the benefit of the doubt he… he screws you the fuck over.

It was supposed to be an easy job: infiltrate Kereska’s chapel, retrieve the relic Raphael demanded, and slip away unnoticed. Hey, no big deal— you’ve handled worse without breaking a sweat.

Most of your companions weren’t so eager to take on the devil’s dirty work after a night of drinking, so, you figured you’d tackle it solo. No problem. After all, you’d just returned home to Baldur’s Gate. The evening was warm, the streets thrummed with energy, and after a night of revelry, you were in a damn good mood.

So when Gale, with his calm, holier-than-thou attitude, offered to “assist,” you’d thought sure, why the Hells not?

And what a mistake that would turn out to be for you. Just as your gut had warned you, things ended up going sideways. All because of him.

You both had made it past the wards, the traps, and even those fucked up, undead necromancers that you hated dealing with—no thanks to Gale’s constant commentary on your spellcasting techniques. It was always some remark about how your magic was “undisciplined,” how you were “too reckless to be at your best.” Fuck, like you hadn’t been doing this shit for years, now.

Warranted, you weren’t exactly the nicest person, either. Meals at your camp were a battlefield of their own, filled with biting comments and passive-aggressive stares, often over trivial matters that had nothing to do with magic.

Plus, combat was no different. It rarely took more than a few minutes before you and Gale were mired in a heated debate over the “best course of action for the situation”. Naturally, these debates only added to the tension, making every encounter feel like a personal clash as opposed to a friendly discussion over technique.

You two were polar opposites, discordant, incompatible.

But you were an idiot, then. A dumb, tender-hearted idiot in a great mood who had hoped you two could eventually get along if the stars aligned just right. But that’s all hindsight.

After all the hard work, you had almost had it— your hand was just within reach of that damned necklace, caution thrown to the wind, when Gale decided to get fancy. A small “adjustment” to the magical aura surrounding the relic, he’d explained— something about minimizing risk and stabilizing the flow of the Weave so you could extract it safely.

You discarded the idea, of course; “fuck your tricks,” you had said (your actual words), rolled your eyes at him, and said goodbye to the remnants of your good mood as he reprimanded you like a teacher would a novice— and that, naturally, you weren’t.

Unlike him, you didn’t need a stack of tomes to inspectthis kind of arcane energy. It felt powerful and intricate, yes— but beneath it all, it was just a trick of the eye. The glowing, golden-tinged sphere wasn’t malevolent whatsoever, and instead served as a cheap ploy to repel those tempted by the artifact.

So, knowing what you knew, you reached for the relic despite his suggestion.

But, just as you were to lay a finger on it, he… he cast his fucking “safety” spell. And everything went to hell.

The forcefield around the necklace reacted— wildly. The air rippled in waves, the ground shifting beneath you, and suddenly, you were trapped in some kind of collapsed chamber beneath the chapel— cut off from the rest of the world, with no way out.

Worst of all, you were in heartbreaking proximity. The dugout was deep, but narrow, allowing you maybe a centimeter of privacy before your chest collided with his. And Gods, did that happen often. Any movement you made, your bodies would collide in one way or another, be it feeling his thigh rub against yours, grazing fingers, or smacking his chin— the last one being a complete accident on your part, of course.

And yes, as two magic-wielders would, you tried your luck. As it turned out, the stone binding your bodies together seemed to have a sort of Weave-repellent property that rendered your only functional skills worthless.

So, here you were, stuck with your arch-rival, and with every passing second, your frustration grew. It must have been half an hour since the disaster struck when you finally felt your head pound with frustration.

“Gale,” you sigh for the millionth time, “Are you even listening?”

He’s been doing a great job ignoring your commentary by seemingly occupying himself with analyzing your surroundings. Smart, sure, if it wasn’t for the simple fact he refused to collaborate with you whatsoever. After your initial scream-off, he seemed reluctant to give you the time of day again.

He finally clears his throat to speak, and you shoot him a glare in the dim light.

"You just had to do your thing, didn’t you?" he sighs.

“And you just had to show off,” you retort through a bitter snark.

Gale glances at you with narrowed eyes, yet his expression remains infuriatingly contained. “I was trying to prevent a catastrophe. If I hadn’t intervened, the entire chapel may have collapsed.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap, “It collapsed on us instead. I’m so glad we avoided a disaster, Gale.”

He exhales slowly, then gives you a haphazard eye-roll. “Perhaps if you hadn’t rushed things—”

“Rushed things?” Your chest flares, making it collide with his. “I didn’t touch a damned thing. You’re the one who decided the Weave needed tuning or whatever other bullshit.”

Gale’s eyes narrow, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “You think I did this on purpose? I made the right choice. But you—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” You cut him off, “Honestly, fuck you, man. If you were half as concerned with doing a good job as you are with peacocking we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Peacocking?”

“Yeah. Peacocking, showing off—Are you okay? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.” You shrug in mock nonchalance, rolling your eyes as if the circumstances weren’t already driving you up the wall.

You feel Gale’s chest rise and fall with a steadying breath, the sort one might take when trying to stop themselves from saying something they’ll inevitably regret. When it came to containing his bubbling rage, he beat you to it every time.

His casual lilt, when it comes, makes your teeth grit. “Obviously.”

You groan loudly, letting the back of your head thud against the stone wall behind you. A tense silence falls between you, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing, a sound that seems to grow louder in the small space whenever conversation dies down.

“You would’ve been buried stone-cold dead under the rubble if I hadn’t cast that spell,” he mutters, and just like that, your patience snaps.

“I— I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” Your words are sharp as daggers, eyes burning into his as you twist your body just enough to face him head-on. “The barrier was a ruse, Gale. A fake. I told you not to cast that damn spell—”

“And I suppose explanations are beneath someone of your obvious talents,” he snaps back, his words dripping with venom.

You glare at him, feeling your pulse quicken. “You’re a scholar— Gods, don’t you know this kind of illusory magic is Kereska’s whole thing?” you spit, watching his face aptly in hopes of catching a glimpse of something; remorse, sympathy, fuck, even just a bit of pity would satiate you.

But it never comes. His eyes bore into you with practiced reprimanding, and because he must see you on the precipice of breaking down, he continues to poke the metaphorical bear. “You should’ve waited.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the part where you became the authority on everything. In case you somehow overlooked it, I’ve been doing this for years without your lectures.”

“And look how well that’s worked out for you,” he retorts, his voice low, treacherous. There’s a mocking smile imbued on his face, and you quickly realize it makes you want to tackle him to the ground and claw it out yourself. If it wasn’t for the minimal space, you probably would’ve even attempted it. “This wasn’t some petty street magic. That relic was infused with layers of defense—complex protections you clearly didn’t even account for—”

“I knew what I was dealing with!” you hiss, pushing against the wall for leverage. You brush against his chest again, sending an electric jolt of tension through the confined space. “I didn’t need your over-calculated, pompous meddling. I had it under control until you—”

“Under control?” Gale’s voice rises, his frustration finally splintering through his quiet facade as he emits a burst of scornful laughter. “Do you even hear yourself? Your recklessness nearly got us killed!”

You scoff, pushing back even harder. “You’re so damn smug— acting like the world will end if you don’t micromanage every little detail, but guess what? You don’t always have the answer. And right now, we’re stuck— all because of your fucking arrogance.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it, jaw tight, eyes blazing as he holds your gaze. For a second, you think he’s about to let loose another lecture, but instead, there’s silence—a strange, electricity-charged stillness that envelops you like a cold breeze.

You can’t speak. It crackles between you with a strain, thick enough to feel suffocating. Every breath you take only draws you closer to him, and somehow, it almost feels like the walls enveloping you have only grown thicker throughout your argument.

The closeness, the heat, the sheer intensity of the argument—it’s all too much, and yet, neither of you looks away once your gazes inevitably connect.

The wizard licks his bottom lip languidly, lips smacking as he seems to be taking you all in. His eyes scan over you, and somehow the fact makes you feel vulnerable.

Finally, he breaks the peace.

“If I’m so arrogant, why did you let me join you?”

His eyes are dark, but not just with frustration; they’re searching, questioning, as though he’s daring you to give an honest answer, knowing it’s something you can’t afford yourself right now.

“You asked me to let you come,” you bark out, pushing his chest with the heel of your hand, the contact sending a spark of heat through your outstretched arm. “I didn’t want you here. I figured we’d get through this, grab the necklace, and go our separate ways again. But no—you wanted to come. Play the hero, do all the dirty work, whatever your reasoning was.”

Gale doesn’t flinch at your words, but his eyes narrow slightly— they flicker to the space your bodies connect at, then back to your tautened face.

His gaze lingers on where your hand presses against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might back down. But instead, his jaw clenches, and when his eyes snap back to yours, there’s a fire behind them that ignites something deep in your gut.

“And you agreed,” he counters mockingly, the smile adorning his face making your head spin. “Why?”

The question hangs between you for a beat. You falter, mouth opening and closing without a reply.

He’s right. He’s fucking correct, and you hate it.

Why did you agree? You could’ve said no, barked back at him, insulted his stupid wizard frock— pushed him away with one of the countless options you had at your disposal.

But you didn’t. You let him come with you, willingly.

You clench your fists, pushing against the surge of discomfort bubbling in your belly. “Well, forgive me for being an optimist,” you mutter, voice tight. “I thought, for once, that maybe— Fuck. Maybe we could get through one fucking mission without trying to jump at each others’ throats.”

He exhales at your explanation, tilting his head to glance through the top of the crevasse and toward the chapel ceiling. You follow suit, albeit subtly, noticing the intricate engravings lining the skylight; in the dim light of the afternoon sun, they look elegant, beautiful, even. How didn’t you notice that when you first walked in?

“And how’s that going for us?” he asks suddenly, the smile curling at the edges of his mouth turning bitter.

You huff, running a hand through your hair. The condensation sticks to your fingers, and you can’t help the joyless chuckle that escapes your lips when you look at him again.

“Well, I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders lazily. Your cynical laughter shifts into the shadow of a smile. Somehow, as he glances down at you, you find yourself with a pang in your chest that overshadows the frustration you’ve been drowning in— it’s deep, and resonant, and feels like it’s swallowing your heart whole when his dark eyes meet yours. “We still hate each other.”

The wizard exhales sharply through his nose, and strangely, you can’t seem to read his expression even as your eyes squint.

His gaze is fixed on yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken; you feel it best when his hot breath hits the sweat-slicked skin of your face as he leans in. It’s a slight, almost imperceptible gesture, yet just enough to make your breath hitch with… rage, aversion— or perhaps, most frighteningly, something else you’ve been pushing down for months since your first quarrel.

You’re forcefully dragged out of your stupor when the pad of his thumb grazes your palm— the touch sends a sharp, almost uncomfortable jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving you speechless as you chalk it up to an unfortunate accident. Nothing more, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t hate you,” he says, and though his tone is stiff, the words cut through your pause like a skilled blade.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath catches in your parched throat, heart pounding with a force that would surely reverberate through his body hadn’t his robe been so thick.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, each shallow breath you take only drawing you closer— or, at least, that’s exactly how it feels in the tiny space you’re being forced to share.

His thumb is still brushing your palm, slowly, gently, and deliberately enough that you cannot ascribe it to a simple accident anymore. For a second, your eyebrows arch and there’s this urge to pull away, something thrumming in your head and telling you to hold to principle.

But you don’t… you— you physically can’t. Not when he’s gazing down at you with… with patience. Understanding, maybe. But why?

A beat passes, then another. The tension coils so tight you almost want to scream to break it, and his gaze remains locked on yours, his palm grazing yours.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper.

“You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours. "You’re fucking with me. I… you hate me, Gale, I can’t—"

He glances down at you with a strange glint in his eyes, then exhales loudly again. Did you strike a nerve?

“Why do you always do this?” he questions with exasperation tugging at his tone. You feel his touch momentarily drop from yours, and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself missing it.

“What?” you blink, eyebrows furrowed.

“This,” He gestures between the two of you with a frustrated sigh. “You’re— you’re always picking fights with me. Always pushing, always assuming the worst—”

“I’m picking fights?” Your eyes narrow, the sneer coming back to your lips like armor. “You’ve been criticizing every godsdamn thing I’ve done since day one, making me feel inferior, questioning my skill— and now I’m the one picking fights?”

He shakes his head sharply, then sighs in frustration. When you look up, his eyes are locked on yours—deep brown with flecks of gold, catching the fractured sunlight streaming through the cracked skylight. You could drown in them, given the chance.

“No, that’s not— That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “You don’t— you just refuse to listen to me. When we fight, in camp— even now. The relic, that barrier, you— Gods, you always act instead of—”

“Don’t you dare paint me as the villain now,” you snap, bumping his chest with the pad of your palm again.

“You almost got us killed!” he bites back, “I don’t care for your talents if it means you don’t utilize them properly. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, raw talent doesn’t equal capability?”

Right.

Your lips purse, the pit in your stomach suddenly overpowering your ability to retort. It was a mistake— you should have known the niceties were a convenient gimmick to ascertain his position over you, and not an actual instance of humanity, for once.

But somehow, your false hopes only drive the wrath within you. You let the nausea overcome you and have it fuel your bitter tone as you finally find the power to speak up again.

“All you care about is being right— about having the last word against anyone who dares question your abilities,” you mutter, challenging his stern gaze with your own, “And the rest of us? We’re just supposed to sit by and watch, grateful to be in the presence of Gale Dekarios, the great, tragic wizard who thought his tricks could satiate a fucking Goddess!”

You’re fuming. The words that come out of your throat are only half-baked as you shrill at him, but… but at the moment, it feels right— warranted, somehow.

So when you catch him give you the space to continue, you take it.

“…But the truth is, you need to feel superior. You need everyone to see you as the sleekest in the room because deep down, you’re still clinging to the ghost of a woman who abandoned you. And that’s why you’ve been picking me apart since day one—because I’m not afraid to tell you how full of shit you are.”

Suddenly, you feel his hand catch your wrist, his grip firm as he holds you still. His thumb presses lightly against your pulse, sending a sharp, unwanted jolt of awareness through your body as your arm tries to jerk away.

“You don’t know the first godsdamn thing about me,” Gale growls, his breath fanning your face as the words spill out, thick with venom. “You’re so wrapped up in your own insolence, so blinded by your stubborn pride, that all you can see in others is a reflection of yourself. And trust me when I say that it’s an ugly one.”

You laugh, a bitter, angry sound, but your heart is hammering now. “Oh, so you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

His jaw clenches, but his grip doesn’t waver. “I know enough. I know that your actions speak louder than words. I know that you’re reckless, impulsive, and too damned proud to admit when you need help—”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you scorching as your breaths mingle. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You’re the one who’s blinded by your own self-importance— always thinking you’re the wisest, savviest person in the room, like the rest of us are just pawns in your little fucking game.”

Gale’s eyes flash with something wild and uninhibited, and you watch his sneer shift into a bitter smile again.

“You— You really think that?” he questions through a chuckle, voice gravelly and low. “Do you really think I’m just using you for some game?”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. You sneer at him, and the outrage bubbles out again.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. You’ve only ever looked out for yourself. This was never about helping me—it was… it was about proving something. To me, to yourself, to fucking Mystra,” you trail.

The moment the words leave your lips, the air shifts between you like a storm about to unravel. His grip on your wrist tightens, not painfully, but with a deliberate firmness that forces you to stop and feel the tension between you. His face is suddenly too close, and for the most succinct moment, you catch something flickering in his eyes—something dim, and dark—but not the rage you were expecting.

He should be angry with you— Hells, he should be furious. You just tore into every insecurity you knew he had, ripped open wounds that never quite healed, and worst of all, dragged his old lover into it all.

And yet… his gaze isn’t burning with the fever you’ve grown used to seeing from him in every argument, every fight.

Why the fuck isn’t he furious?

“Gods, I actually— I used to admire you. You know that? Before all this, I thought you were someone I could… I don’t know, respect. You were this brilliant, woeful man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I thought, ‘Maybe there’s something more underneath all that.’ I thought we could, I don’t know, actually be something—friends, allies, whatever the fuck. I wanted us to trust each other. But… but you…" your voice lowers to a near whisper, and somehow, unbeknownst to you, your eyes go glassy with hot tears.

You’re left reeling, heart hammering in your chest as your mind races along with your bitter confession. The air around you feels viscous, mucous-like, but when your throat goes dry with impending tears you look up to see something that makes your breath hitch.

He’s listening.

Not just waiting for his turn to speak as he usually does around you, not calculating his next clever retort, but listening— really, truly listening.

His gaze, once so sharp with ire, has softened. His dark eyes are fixed on yours with a vigor that nearly undoes you, and there’s no anger in them now, no resentment.

Your breath catches.

“You never gave me a chance, Gale. Not once. It was always about you, your guilt, your past, your Mystra— Fuck!” you cough out and rub your eyes with the pads of your palms, massaging your vulnerability away. “I tried. I really, really tried. But none of this seemed to reach you, not through that… that mental barrier you’ve created around yourself. I think that since the very beginning, everything else was just noise to you. I was just noise to you,” your voice dies down to a mutter, and you inhale sharply to fight the sorrow back into your grieving heart.

You withdraw your hands and finally feel brazen enough to face him.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks, aware that your nose is red from the tears you tried so hard to hold back, that your eyelids are probably puffy and swollen, and you’re a fucking mess.

But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve come undone, and now, nothing mattered to you anymore; not the anger, not the sorrow, and especially not the way his kind, gentle touch seemed to soothe your aching heart when his palm met yours.

You scan his face, but there’s nothing— or at least, you can’t seem to read it through the coating of tears obscuring your eyes. The light above has shifted to cast his face in a warm, velvety light. You catch the subtle lines etched into his forehead, the faint silver threads streaking through his hair, and his lips curling into… a smile.

Despite your desperation, despite your pain, he was smiling.

Your chest tightens, fists clenching at your sides, and before you can stop them, a stream of hot tears finally spills down your cheeks.

This was it. You braced for impact.

“…So do whatever the fuck you need to fill that void in your heart, but don’t involve me in any of it. And— for fuck’s sake, Gale, don’t act like you give a shit about me because you—”

But you never get to finish.

Before you can witness the gentle glint in his eyes as he leans into you, before you can even register it, his lips crash onto yours.

Your gasp is muted against the softness of his mouth. When he moves, it’s not gentle, not soft, but raw in its intensity and so, so desperate.

His grip on your wrist tightens briefly before finally releasing, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. The warmth of his hand is a pleasant change to the cold, hard stone you’ve been leaning against, and suddenly, just as your mind threatens to flood you with dopamine, it all dawns on you.

You’ve been here before—no, not here, but in moments that feel eerily alike.

You recall the edge in his voice during arguments, the way he’d insist on ‘rectifying’ you at every turn, the blunt critiques you assumed were borne from pure vanity. But now… now there’s a clarity to it all. Worry. Fear. A softness, a hesitation. Like when he would offer his hand to you after a fight, his fingers lingering just a moment too long as they brushed over yours.

You loathed him… Hells, you detested him.

But how deep were you willing to draw the line between hate and devotion?

Against all your instincts, against the sharp, burning ache in your chest—you drink him in. His warmth, his touch, the power behind it all.

You know you should push him away, shove him off, scream, but instead, you find yourself frozen— trapped in the certainty of this moment. And despite every ounce of fury burning inside you, you can’t deny the spark it ignites in your indigent heart as he caresses you so tenderly.

And with that, you seal your fate with his.

Your lips press against his, head tilting until you feel you’re melting into him. He groans softly against your mouth, and the sound makes your chest thrum with a melody you’re afraid to place.

Your hands, trembling, inch towards his chest, but this time they aren’t formed into spiteful fists or an accusatory point— your palms lay lax against him, resting at the junction of his ribs and pushing, pushing… just in hopes of catching the steady thrum of his heart against your fingertips. The anger, the pain, the confusion—it’s all still there, but in this moment, none of it matters.

Just him. Just this.

For all the times you’ve misread him, all the moments you thought his criticisms were barbs, meant to wound—now you wonder. You had mistaken his care for contempt, his frustration for hatred. But now, as his lips part slightly against yours, the world narrows down to just the two of you. No damned relic, no mission, no war; only the benign sensation of his hand cradling the back of your neck, the warmth of his mouth on yours, and the undeniable truth of it all:

You’ve never hated him. Not once in your rotten life.

And when his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, you want to come undone. You’re tired, hot, melting into this fiery, passionate kiss that has slowly turned languid and gentle.

So despite the zeal enveloping your body, you’re finally forced to part.

When your eyes open, you find him already watching you. A shiver runs down your spine as you drink him in; tousled hair, half-lidded eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his plush lips as the both of you pant in tandem with each other.

He looks wrecked. But then again, you’re certain you do too.

Your face feels flushed, still burning with aftershock and when you bite your bottom lip, you find it swollen. Raw. The taste of him lingers there too, sweet like bourbon and sharp like anise.

You stare at each other. It’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again, really seeing him, and it softens your heart as much as it terrifies your lust-addled mind.

The silence stretches between you, so thick you can feel it pressing against your skin. It pulls taut with every second, coiling tighter, and you can’t stand how fragile it makes your heart feel.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper. “You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky— you’ve never found that aspect of it attractive until now.

You open your mouth, but the words—whatever they are—die in your throat. Instead, all you can do is look at him and fall deeper into his embrace.

There are questions that swirl in the back of your mind, ones you know you should ask, but they slip away the moment his thumb brushes your cheek again. Why did he kiss you? Why did you let him? And why, despite the chaos and pain that’s passed through your mind, did this—he—feel like the only thing that has made sense since you forgot all else?

“I never hated you,” he murmurs and shifts slightly, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch.

“I didn’t want to hate you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought it’s what we were meant to be. Enemies.”

“We aren’t,” The corner of his mouth twitches. “We never were.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and just like that, the fragile walls around your heart crumble. Gale Dekarios, the man you had sworn to hate, has somehow intertwined himself into your very existence in a way you suddenly think might last centuries.

—

As it turns out, the solution to your predicament was surprisingly, nearly embarrassingly straightforward. The anti-magic barrier encircling the sunken crypt could be dispelled by reciting the incantation inscribed on the rock walls— and with Gale’s surprising proficiency in Draconic, it proved quite an easy feat.

After that, it was just a matter of a few rudimentary spells. Naturally, the task took longer than anticipated, thanks to the lingering, newfound tension between you and the wizard— fleeting glances, soft touches, and even an occasional, stolen kiss as you recited your magic; things you surprisingly found yourself quite fond of.

As you step out into the cool evening air, you inhale deeply, savoring the crisp, refreshing breeze. The sunset paints the world in a warm, golden hue, casting long, soft shadows across the cobbled streets as you pass by groups of chattering townsfolk.

“I’ve been thinking,” you hear your companion muse through a playful smile. “After all of this, do you think we could avoid arguments for a little while?”

You meet his gaze with a puckish eye roll, a smile tugging at your still-swollen lips. The warm glow of the streetlights casts his face in a soft, intimate glow, and your smile widens into a grin when you catch his lips bearing that same sign of your carnal affection.

“It depends,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, pushing against him playfully.

“Mhm, and on what exactly?” he hums, his hand squeezing tighter around yours. When his thumb caresses your palm, you feel your heart thrum with something you can’t quite describe.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, glancing up at him with a grin. He returns it within a beat, and now it’s your turn to knit your fingers tighter. “How much longer are you planning on nagging me?”

He chuckles from the belly, and the coil in your chest that you’ve long expected to be spite emerges as something much larger, softer, and most unexpected. You fear to name it out loud.

You smile when your gaze meets his, the warmth in his eyes mirrored by the softness of your own. He leans in, and the world narrows to the touch of his lips against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that seems to linger in the evening light. In that fleeting moment, all the doubts and anxieties are swept away with his voice calling your name.

“For as long as I live,” he retorts softly, his voice laced with tenderness as the air between you, once again, fills with his laughter.

[missswritesalot]

Winter’s thorn

Summary: Lady Y/N Tyrell, the rose of Highgarden, had no intentions of marriage when she visited Winterfell. But with her honor on the line, she might have to reconsider.

Part two

“What about Lady Y/N Tyrell, the younger sister of Lady Margery Tyrell,” the maester suggested. “She is young and Lady Olenna is seeking an alliance. Her raven comes with certain peculiar ideas that need careful execution.”

Catelyn was delighted. After hours of pouring over letters from all the heads of the houses, she found Robb his ideal match. She ordered a feast to be held, and invited Lady Y/N Tyrell under the pretense of trade.

“Almost here, Y/N,” said your cousin Taena. You shivered and wrapped your cloak around you tighter. “You are aware this visit is not purely of trade?”

“Now, Taena, that’s enough.” The septa chided.

“Even Queen Daenerys wishes to see you married, cousin. Perhaps to-“

“No more, cousin. I tire of this, although you mean it in jest.” You said, exhausted by these rumors.

“It would mean strengthening our loyalty to the Targaryens. He is Jon Snow’s brother,” Taena said.

“Cousin,” you corrected. She took it as though you were chiding her, and unexpectedly fell silent.

You took two steps out of the carriage, unassisted. You tried holding your head high, like the wind wasn’t cutting into your skin.

You were astonished to find the people of House Stark assembled in the courtyard, waiting for your arrival.

Catelyn was the first to greet you.

“My son, the Lord of Winterfell, Robb Stark.” She said, motioning to him. You’d heard of him, they called him the young wolf. Honorable. Gentle and strong.

Robb had the most gorgeous blue eyes you’d ever seen, framed by thick auburn lashes. His hair was a signature Tully red, just like Sansa’s. You’d once thought she was the most comely maiden at court, and her brother had all of her good looks in his ruggedly handsome way.

You courtesied in greeting. He took your gloved hand in his bare one and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Your heart raced. He was so beautiful. You didn’t look up, and affixed your eyes on your boots instead.

“Lady Tyrell, we thank you for making the long journey up north. I hope it was not too difficult.” His voice could’ve melted the snow around you.

You nodded curtly: he should not see the blush on your face.

In your haste, you tripped on a stone hidden in the snow. A strong, leather clad arm wrapped around your waist to pull you up. You felt him stand you upright and the fingers of his other hand dug into your arm to steady you.

You gasped at the close contact, and turned to face him. He might be the lord of Winter but his arm felt like it might burn you. His fingers, where they touched the smallest silver of skin at your shoulder, were equally scalding. You didn’t want to step away from him into the cold.

“Forgive me, Lady Tyrell,” Robb said, his blue eyes still peering into yours. There was an instinct to lean into him, to step into his arms. But you resisted.

You turned your face away, and looked as angry as you could.

“Unhand me at once,” you said slowly. The Septa behind you gasped at your lack of courtesy.

“Lady Tyrell-“ Catelyn began, but you cut her off.

“Pardon me, Lady Stark, but the carriage journey was long and tiring. My companions and I would be obliged for a warm room.” You asked.

The walls of Winterfell were bare, the tapestries grey with little or no embroidery. The heat you had longed for suffocated you. Your mind still harbored thoughts of Robb and only Robb. No, you corrected, Lord Stark. You touched your shoulder where his fingers had rested, and giggles burst out of you. Thankfully, your cousins weren’t around to witness your shame.

You thought of how this was where Robb grew up, his childhood home that was now his.

You tugged on a new dress, one that stood out against the drab castle walls, with its golden roses and green leaves on a background of ivory and pale green.

You heard a loud sound outside. You opened the chamber door at once, and Robb Stark tumbled in.

“My lord, what does this mean?” You asked, horrified he was in your chambers.

“I only meant to escort you to the great hall, my Lady. But there has been an invasion into Winterfell and as my guest I must see to your safety myself.”

You only just noticed his armor. He bolted the doors and you backed away from him.

“My cousins?” You asked.

“They are safe, in the library. Do not fret, my Lady. You will be reunited as soon as the threat is stopped.”

You trusted Robb, you realized. It was a fool’s idea to put your trust in a strange man who you didn’t know, just because you found him attractive. But you trusted him.

“My Lord, it is most improper for a Lady to be in the presence of a man without companions.” You protested, just to save face.

“Proprietary will not restore your life when it has been taken by a criminal’s blade.” Robb said. You closed your eyes.

“I apologize you have not yet supped, my Lady.” Rob said softly. His concern endeared him to you even more.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. You went to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Do not mind me, Lady Tyrell. I cannot express the depth of my displeasure that Winterfell is inadequate on your first night here. Please rest until my men finish the task.” Robb said courteously.

You laid on the bed, the dress too uncomfortable to sleep in but fitful sleep did come.

It was in the early hours of the morn when the Septa found you curled on the furs in the chamber room. Robb was resting against your bed, his head lying on furs with his legs sprawled out across the floor.

“Taena,” you said, going into her embrace.

“Oh cousin,” she said, crying. More of your companions rushed in and fussed over you. You broke your fast with them, your voices and laughter could be heard across the hallways.

Your septa walked in just as soon as the servants cleared the room.

“Y/N, do not tell untruths when I ask you this,” she said. “And I place no blame on you. Was Lord Stark in your chambers during the attack?”

“Why, yes,” you confirmed, head nodding. “He was the most noble.”

“And you did not think of your honor?” The septa asked gently.

“Even the most noble ladies laid next to their knights with nay but a sword between them.” You protested.

“Robb Stark is neither your sworn protector nor a knight.” She said. “Lady Catelyn has written an apology to your grandmother, and suggested a proposal.”

“A proposal for what, septa?”

“A marriage between two great houses. You’ll be betrothed to Lord Stark.”

[wheres-mylove]

silent love song | sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

Summary: A pretty lady is convinced that Sihtric hates her, a pretty warrior is terrified of confessing his feelings more than fighting the most dangerous enemy, and the pretty boys simply have to spring into action, because you can't be more oblivious than these two.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!

Word count: 2.5k

Hope in her heart extinguished as quickly as it had ignited. 

Sihtric Kjartansson ran away from her once again. 

The cool air was a welcome change after hours spent in a stuffy and stinky hall, overflowing with joyful men. Though drunken would be a more fitting description. The wind tousled (Y/N)'s hair as she quietly left the room to take a break from the chaos that only a band of celebrating warriors could create. She turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. In the dimly lit vestibule, she recognized Sihtric's figure. He stood there for a few seconds. Then, he spun on his heel and returned to his companions. 

(Y/N) let out a heavy sigh. Since she had never noticed the boy's flushed cheeks and how nervously he gulped, trying to find the courage to talk to her, she once again came to the following conclusion - Sihtric Kjartansson did not like her. From the very beginning. 

Poor girl rested her head against the wooden railing and closed her eyes in frustration. She didn’t even know what his problem was!

“What a cheerful mood,” commented Finan, nudging her with his elbow. “Is the lady planning to stand here in this abyss of despair or will she come back to us?” 

“Why don’t you go away and bother someone else?”

“My other friends have ugly faces. It takes away my drinking joy.” 

(Y/N) laughed and shook her head. 

“Are ya okay? Ale’s too strong?” he asked, then smiled playfully. “Sihtric is worried.”

The girl glanced at him and furrowed her brow in contemplation. She hoped Finan would keep it discreet after she said what she had intended to say. 

“I'm asking you, because you're an honest man,” she began, smoothing the material of her skirts just to occupy her hands. She had to know. “Sometimes even recklessly straightforward.”

“Thank ya,” he replied with a proud smile. Then he processed the second part of her statement and grimaced. “I guess.” 

“Why does Sihtric hate me?” she asked, her tone almost pleading. “I don't mean that he has to like me, but he doesn't utter a word to me, while he talks to everyone else. He runs away at the sight of me! Even today. Is my company that unbearable, or did I do something to offend him? If it's the latter, I will apologize, for heaven's sake!” 

Finan stood there with raised eyebrows for a while. Then he let out a belly laugh. (Y/N) waited with hands placed on her hips until the Irishman stopped wheezing. 

“That's what you get when you ask a drunkard anything,” she retorted, about to walk away, but Finan held her arm.

“No, wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” he exclaimed, wiping tears from his eyes. “You've amused me so. Wait! Wait, woman.”

“You're making fun of my problems. If you told me that girls run away at the sight of you, I would at least explain why. Sometimes you're a real piece of shit.”

“Girls go crazy when they see me,” he protested, to which (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “But ya make Danish warriors weak in the knees, so you have nothing to complain about! Sihtric worships the ground ya walk on, I'm serious now.” Finan straightened up and smiled, but this time more gently. “He's cute, but he's already wearing us all out with his tales about your beauty, so if you could just help us out…” 

“You're making fun of me,” (Y/N) replied uncertainly, searching his face for signs of deception. 

“For someone so wise, you're more blind than my grandmother in her final days,” Finan muttered, crossing his arms. “Think for a moment. He doesn't have to say anything. It's just that ya seem to have your eyes up your arse.”

“I should drown you in that barrel of ale. I'm going to sleep, and I suggest you do the same.” The girl jumped off the steps without looking back. 

“He bows when he sees ya approaching, even if miles separate ya,” the Irishman continued. (Y/N) reluctantly stopped, though her stubbornness still prevented her from turning around. “He stands near your tent at night, and believe me, no one dares to enter. Who do ya think takes care of your horse? The servants, to put it mildly, have been dismissed.” (Y/N) slowly faced Finan. “When trouble or danger arises, who magically appears in front of ya? Coincidence, right? And when we set up camp a week ago, I hope ya know that no one conjured those extra furs; they were from him.”

The girl looked down and sighed softly. 

“And the flowers by the entrance of my tent, I presume?”

“Aye, ya should see how enthusiastically he picks them! That beast has gone a bit mad for ya. Anything else, my lady?”

“When I said I have no means to defend myself…”

“A sudden surge of wisdom!”

“Be quiet,” she murmured with a smile, waving him goodbye.

“That's a nice dagger ya have!”

Because it’s Sihtric's.

A complete, humiliating, crippling defeat.

“Did you shit your breeches?” Uhtred yelled loud and clear, even before Sihtric could return defeated to their table.

“Come on, give him a break, lord.” Osferth threw Sihtric a comforting look and a tight-lipped smile. Sihtric messed up his hair and slumped heavily on the bench.

“I can't handle it, I just can't,” he admitted with considerable embarrassment. “If only she were a little less beautiful, everything would look different.”

“Close your eyes then,” Beocca advised from above his bowl of stew.

“God's wisdom knows no bounds,” Osferth commented in a voice devoid of emotion and glanced at Sihtric, who, in his misery, decided to down his ale in one go. 

“I don't understand you, I simply don't understand you,” Uhtred sighed. “A brave warrior, slaying enemies with a sword, an axe, even with bare hands. And he's afraid to simply talk to a lady.” 

“Uhtred, feelings have overwhelmed people more than once. The heart is not inclined to listen to rational explanations. It follows its own rules,” Beocca spoke up, folding his hands on the table. “Don't lose faith, Sihtric. Everything will work out.”

“He doesn't need faith, just some balls,” Uhtred protested, to which the priest and the baby monk gave him disapproving looks. 

“What? Nothing but the truth.”

“She wouldn't want me anyway,” the young warrior spoke, staring into the bottom of his mug. “She is a lady, and what am I? What can I offer her? What can I give her? It's pathetic. It's enough for me to admire her from a distance and know that she's safe; the rest is just a stupid dream.”

“He's entered the wailing phase,” Uhtred groaned. Leaning back, he looked towards the entrance. “Finan went to her. He probably annoyed her. Oh, he definitely annoyed her. Maybe she was already irritated that you messed up once again and exploded.”

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“Gods, Sihtric, she was looking at you all evening. She went outside alone, so you had a perfect excuse to approach her, you fool.”

“It's not that simple-”

“My lady, what a beautiful evening it is today. You suddenly disappeared, and I wanted to make sure everything is okay. It is? Great. I wanted to be certain. And ask if you would like to sleep in my tent tonight.”

“Uhtred!”

“What now?”

“The savage speaks through you,” Beocca scolded him. Meanwhile, Finan returned and leaned conspiratorially over his dark-haired friend. 

“(Y/N) asked about ya, little runt.” 

“About me?” Sihtric raised his head so quickly that he almost broke his friend's nose. “What exactly did she say?” 

“Ya would know if ya had gone there and asked her yourself,” Finan replied with a wicked smile and darted back towards the exit. 

“Finan!” Sihtric shouted after him, immediately getting up from his seat. “What did she say? Finan!”

“If things continue to look like this, the opportunity will slip right past him,” Uhtred concluded, watching with amusement as Sihtric chased after the Irishman. “We need to corner him.”

“But how, my lord?” Osferth asked uncertainly. “He gets very nervous in her presence. I doubt we can…”

 “Anger is a bit stronger than fear. And I have an idea.”

 “Oh God, watch over us.”

Something was off. Aethelwold had never sat so close. And Sihtric's eyes had never gleamed with such fury. 

“That's exactly how it happened, my lady. I'm not telling this story to boast, oh no,” the royal nephew spoke, gesturing animatedly.

(Y/N) had hoped for a peaceful afternoon and a bit of quiet in the shade of the sprawling oak tree. She had some things to think about. She had to think about Sihtric. About Finan's words. And about things she hadn't noticed before. Perhaps she had indeed surpassed the Irishman's grandmother in her blindness. 

Barely had she settled under the tree with an apple in her hand and a tangle of thoughts in her head when Sihtric appeared nearby. He must have had a lot to do in that area.

She lifted her gaze when she felt him looking at her. He blushed to the tips of his ears and bowed deeply. She smiled and was about to get up and approach him. (Y/N) had prepared a perfect excuse. The dagger desperately needed sharpening. Maybe Sihtric would confess that he had given it to her. But all dreams and plans were ruined by Aethelwold, emerging out of nowhere with an innocent smile. 

“My lady,” he began and sat down next to her without waiting for an invitation. “If it's not a bother, I'll keep you company for a while. I see it's not. We haven't had a chance to get to know each other better, don't you think?” 

(Y/N) wasn't quite sure what this arrogant man was getting at, but she decided to listen to his utterly fascinating stories for a while so as not to appear rude. 

Sihtric was seething. He thought Osferth was lying because Uhtred ordered him to. The young monk had told him in great secrecy that he overheard a conversation between Aethelwold and (Y/N)'s brother. The topic of discussion was an initial marriage agreement. Of course, Sihtric didn’t believe him. 

But now, before Sihtric's eyes, that pile of dung was cozying up to his lady. He was probably telling outrageous things just to brag. 

Sihtric Kjartansson sharpened his sword, carefully observing every move of Aethelwold. That poor fool felt beads of sweat on his forehead when their eyes met. 

“Lord, if you'll allow me, I'm very tired,” (Y/N) gently interrupted his never-ending story and got up, dusting off her dress. Aethelwold stood up with her and grabbed her wrist firmly, holding her in place. 

Big mistake. 

One pleading look from (Y/N) later, the man, royal or not, landed on his backside with a loud thud, forcefully pushed away. 

“The lady leaves when she wishes to leave, and you keep your hands to yourself,” the young Dane growled, to which Aethelwold raised his hands in a defensive gesture. 

“Yes, I apologize,” he quickly stammered, gathering himself from the ground and rushing off to an appointed place. 

“Never again, he looked at me like he were the devil himself,” Aethelwold said in a high-pitched voice. He extended his hand, on which Uhtred sprinkled a few silver coins. “I demand a barrel of ale added to my payment. He was sharpening his sword!”

“We saw. Someone got maaad,” chuckled Finan, trying to get a better look from behind the twigs.

“Important thing is, it worked. That justifies my lie, doesn't it, lord?” Osferth asked for a confirmation, pushing past Finan.

“God will forgive you,” Uhtred promised. “But you won't get the ale, Aethelwold. There was supposed to be a kiss too.”

“Of course! So he could kill me!”

Unaware of the trap set for him, Sihtric was seething with jealousy and a sense of injustice. She couldn't marry that scoundrel. 

“Thank you, I thought I'd never get rid of him,” (Y/N) smiled and bowed her head slightly. 

“Can I say something?” Sihtric asked with desperate fervor.

“You certainly should, it's rare,” the girl laughed, but her expression grew serious at the sight of his face. 

“Don't marry him. Don't do this to me and to yourself.”

“Sihtric? I'm not…”

“Aethelwold doesn't deserve you. Honestly, I doubt anyone ever will. He's a coward and you, (Y/N), need something more. Someone who will pledge you a sword along with their heart. And give you that whole heart until it becomes one with yours. Make you a part of their world in its very core. They'll dream of you because you're someone worth dreaming of. Worth of devotion and tenderness. They'll see in you not only the beauty that weakens me, but also the strength and courage that are evident in every move you make-”

(Y/N) looked at him for a while, her gaze wandering over his face. 

“Weaken you?”

“What?” Sihtric stumbled, suddenly realizing the weight of his slip of the tongue.

“Why were you silent for so long if you speak like this?” (Y/N) sighed before rising on her tiptoes and planting a sweet kiss on his lips. Sihtric didn't open his eyes, afraid it was all a dream. 

“My lady? I... I apologize if it's too much at once…”

“Someone recently talked some sense into me, so now I know you've been telling me this all along, little by little,” (Y/N) confessed, cupping his face in her hands. “You spoke through your actions, Sihtric. I'm sorry for averting my gaze.”

The mighty warrior fixed his gaze on the tree, embarrassed to meet the girl's eyes.

“Did you at least like the flowers?”

“Very much. Where do you pick them?”

“It's a secret.”

“We can go pick them together sometime. And roll in the grass.” 

Sihtric burst into laughter and kissed her more passionately. The realization hit him that now he could. 

“Wait,” (Y/N) suddenly said, holding him back by the arm. “Where did the idea that I'm getting married come from?”

“Osferth told me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “And the person that told you-”

“Finan,” (Y/N) quickly interrupted. 

“One could have guessed.”

“No. Well, yes. But now I mean that Finan is standing over there and waving at us.” 

Sihtric turned around abruptly. Now not only Finan, but also the rest of the party left their hiding spot. The boys looked very pleased with themselves. 

“Right, Uhtred all along,” (Y/N) looked at Sihtric. “You frightened the poor man and he was just doing your lord's bidding.”

“He deserved it,” he whispered in her ear. They heard a cough behind them. Father Beocca also decided to grace them with his presence. 

“Is anyone else hiding in the bushes?” Sihtric muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“I only came to inquire about when we're setting the date for the wedding.”

“Whose wedding? It's easy to get confused,” (Y/N) chuckled. 

“Yours, lady. With Sihtric, of course,” Beocca replied nonchalantly, pointing with his finger at the Dane still embracing her tightly. “Uhtred told me.”

[the-moon-files]

so... my interpretation of guide!reader may be vastly different from others but with my vast assimilation of yours and others content, this is my variation of the one I like envisioning involving concepts such as yours (Humans are NOT Hylians and Guide!Reader) so this is my official start to the ramblings *DEEP INHALE*

when I read the post about reader losing their sord and just punching the monsters and it is working along with the other links being amazed

I imagine that because of the fact that hylian's are so light that they didn't put that much into the growth of physical arts

they can punch and kick fine but that's more so used for scraps agents one another, rather than in fights against monsters

hylian's don't have enough strength or weight to have it be worth it on the battlefield

its much more worth their time and energy to learn things like swordsmanship or artery, and be nimble

but guide dose have: the muscle, weight, durability and training necessary for such a strategy to be worth it

It would be more effective for the reader to use the Muay Thai and Taekwondo they worked so hard on instead of learning something new

_*looking respectfully

I can imagine that this levees them beater of physically than most (*cough* me *cough*)

leveeing them much more prepared

along with giving them a lot more... muscle...

Link's(-wind):... please crush me between your thighs

Guide!Reader: what?

Link's(-wind): what.

I know that it has been said that reader is shorter than time, but I personally like them slightly bigger than time

you know... forehead kissing rang

so it's only slightly less awkward to pick them up

I think their deep honey like voice could be compared to their slightly dark honey-colored eyes

someone like legend would appreciate how their eyes turn golden in the sun light, shining like no ring on his finger

Hyrule loves how they feel different from the cold sweetness of sugar water, instead they feel like rich honey and warm cinnamene

wild remembers them as there very first true companion and comfort

to wars, an immovable force, never leveeing their side

that's all I have fore now, but be warned...

I'll be back!

and I'm putting them in a dress (:<

AHH SORRY FOR LATE REPLY U HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IVE BEEN HOGGING THIS TO MYSELF

Martial arts reader/Mc my beloved <333

U sent in ART TOO??!!!! 😭🙏

i love stuff like this sm ur style is so 😳💌💘💝💖💓💞💕❤️‍🔥🙈

The bit abt hylians not needing as much/making intricate martial arts/making their body be the weapon is so peak worldbuilding, if i had an official stamp to say smth is canon in my little HaNH AU (Humans are Not Hylians) i would stamp this 10x over

Acc u know what one sec

Since u made art, have some shitty meme art in return

LMAO its shitty but i hope u know it is the biggest support i can give you, like GOD the ART i keep coming back and Also. Looking Respectfully.

And this is the biggest thank you i could give for sharing this w/me!!

Ok spam headcanons?? Sorta

CONTENT WARNINGS: MILDLY SUGGESTIVE? CONTENT, 16+/18+ MATURER AUDIENCES RECOMMENDED.

COULD YOU IMAGINEEEEE

How the Hylians view Wrestling.

Like, your knuckles/elbows/knees (the parts where thers not as much fat to protect) start to bleed punching armored monsters/arms get tired and you just-

Wrap ur legs around a lynels neck and spin around their neck, using your body weight to drag and lay that bitch Out.

(This is a Real Martial Arts move Ive fucking seen a gif of hold on i NEED to find it- FUCK i cant find it but try youtube and see if yall can find it, its So Real i promise, it was on tumblr at one point)

Who's swooning? Not all 8 Links, nope-

Links, externally (+Wind genuinely): Hahaha, u can crush a watermelow open between ur thighs?? Omg thats so cool- !! 😃

Links, internally (-wind): omfTRIPLEGODDESSES- DID U SEE THAT?? IT WASNT JUST ME RIGHT??? SO WE ALL LOWKEY WANNA,, RIGHT??? 🙊😶🙈😳😳😳(Making eye contact w/each other and communicating this silently, everyone going super red/turning away/ears twitching)

Wind makes you do like another 4 watermelons bc its genuinely so impressive to him (does he think its hilarious to watch the others get all embarassed? Hell yeah- what else are little brothers supposed to do??)

Okay but OG asker/Snack Eater DID NOT emphasize how insane a Muay Thai fighter in HaNH AU would go???

If u dont know, Muay Thai is DEADLY-DEADLY kinda martial arts, like it has been considered assault with a deadly weapon before i think/been banned a lot of other fighting places outside its country of origin? I think its Thailand?

Anyway Thailand is fucking crazy for not having a higher rate of murders acredited to this martial art, bc guys, they use Elbows and Knees in their moves.

Like. That's banned/outright no moves created/or at least taught, a lot of the time in other martial arts from diff places.

Like that kills people. So easily. 😃

Like, the Chain already knows ur deadly, but when u reveal (having done the Honorable/Give Them A Fair Chance Thing) and not used Elbows or Knees yet, only to get into the harder enemies like boss fights and suddenly get real close (!!! What are you doing Guide Back Up-!!)

And whip out an elbow, crack the motherfucker straight in the head, and watch the thing immediately flatline right before their eyes??

Its like seeing a biblically accurate angel descend.

Like their in awe, but also scared? But its also like feeding into the awe?? Jaws have dropped.

U tell them that Elbows and Knees are even banned back home, and every single Link is like "Understandable. Obviously. But also, oh my goddess?? A move even the Humans banned?? Bc its so deadly???"

Wind: "..."

Wind: "...hey. Can you kill Gods? ...Can you kill Ganon?"

(The entire Chain goes silent in shock before exploding into Exsistential Crisis Mode, it takes Time/Wars like 5 minutes to recover from this information/experience enough to get up and calm everyone down lmao)

ALSO???

On a completely diff note-

Shorted Links, Taller Guide Reader my beloved?? <<<3333

Oh i def been leaning towards some Links are taller bc i think the imagery of you picking them up easily is funny (what can i say I live to embarass/try and fluster Time/Twi)

But you being taller?? Sign me tf up babe I have NOTHING against that, and am ALL for it????

Like u go thru a triangle portal/wake up from playing Loz and the Links are all shorter than you?? blessings rain down upon us like????

Twi/Time/Wars (who i headcanon as the tallest Links, in that order, along with Sky when he stops slouching lol)

And for Twilight to just be forehead kissing height?!

(He might've realized he's got a thing for lowkey feeling like worshipping ppl taller than him, bc other than the few humans who did live in Ordon, he was the tallest Hylian)

Time adores looking up at you, like u swear you saw his ears flapping a little

Wars is just,, 😀😳👉👈🥺 h-hey

Like flirting is infinitely harder when theyre a head taller than you, the poor Captain has found

(Yknow bc im personally 5"3, or abt 160cm, i think itd be even funnier if no matter what height you are, ur still taller than the tallest Hylians LMAO, Four our here actually being 3-4 ft tall like hobbits lol)

Omg (i know, i PROMISE, i KNOW) that its not canon at all, but i think itd be funny if the hylians most common hair color was blonde/most common eyecolor was blue/green,

And its rarer for ppl to have brown eyes/dark hair

Like the opposite of a lot of American beauty standards, ur seen at the Y/N, the main character for having darker features

(Lowkey inlcuding skin tone bc, and this is canon, have u seen the skin tone diversity historically for Loz games lmao 😅)

Ok im done sorry for rambling

Thanks again for this!!

___ TW: Hurricane Helene talk below ____

Fair Warning: I WILL NOT be tolerating any condescending/hateful or otherwise negative responses about the effects of Hurricane Helene.

People have died. Myself/my friends/my family/my coworkers have been affected. Be respectful.

You will be blocked/possibly reported for hate speech.

This was like Hurricane Katrina for us, because these areas were NOT prepared for hurricanes.

Those most affected are Mountain communities, we're supposed to have more mild weather, and the last time this happened according to older locals was decades ago, if then.

...

Hey!! If u read my tags of my last reblog, im doing better, we got back to town and realized our powers back on, and then the next day luckily our water was back on too

(its not drinkable but at least we can flush the toliet/shower 😭)

Luckily too by this point the water distribution/rescue crews are here,

DUDE. We were/are so fucked Biden came to look at us 😃

Im personally still on the lookout for missing ppl (my coworker has missing family in the town nearby and in telling my friend over there to spread the word)

And cellular service is back up, but they may jut be bc they brought in temporary towers/Tmobile is giving out free service for everyone too

Its slow going still, all these developments are taking days to achieve if u cant tell

And no pressure, esp if u dont have the spare money,

But if you could donate to help my city/the cities nearby who are still very isolated bc theyre smaller, along with helping our homeless people who no doubt are worse off, thatd mean to world to me/all of us!! <3

Here's some links for that, even if its just tip money/money for a coffee, anything helps!

https://pay.payitgov.com/ncdonations

https://crowdfund.charlotte.edu/project/44126

https://www.chabadasheville.org/templates/section_cdo/aid/6606696/jewish/Hurricane-Helene-Relief.htm

Thanks for reading, and blessed be those still in need of rescue, from human to animals, and to those who have passed.

May those you left behind find peace.

<3

Peact out,

🌙