#and try to blame you for making this too big and force them to answer you

[satorena]

❛ # MÉNAGE À TROIS ! ❜

ᡣ𐭩 featuring. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru

☆ warnings. explicit content. foul language. thrēēsome (mmf). getting caught in the act. ceo!satoru and secretary!reader make a comeback. jealous gojo. ceo!suguru but he’s a pervert. crēāmpie. fīngerīng. oral (f+m). backshots. afab!reader. feminine descriptions used.

ᡣ𐭩 serena's note. can be read as a stand-alone but it’s basically a continuing to unprofessionalism !

“are you—mmph, insane?!” you’re hoping your words are convincing enough to draw him back to his senses, despite them jumbling out your mouth and right into his. pressed up against the door of the empty bathroom, your legs are spread apart in favour to be supported by a strong thigh. big hands slide from your lower back to your ass, and squeeze, forcing a moan out of you. “we’re in public— we’ll get caught!”

when gojo does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects from his bottom lip to yours. he pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red as the corner of his mouth tugs into a sadistic smile, “yeah but don’t that make it more excitin’ though?”

you blink at him, the thought having already crossed your mind. you weren’t in any position to oppose as you’d even gone commando to a formal business dinner all due to your perverted boss’ orders. but a lot would be at stake here— you both could lose your jobs if caught, and you’d most likely be labelled a whore for the rest of your career. naturally, that was the last thing you wanted, and yet—

“quit overthinkin’ sweets,” you’re pulled out of your train of thought when his bulge grinds against your core. you gasp, eye lids fluttering shut as a rush of heat spreads in your gut. you feel his hands grip your waist and drag your hips forward, angling your body at a perfect position enough to force a whine out of you.

he leans forward to seal his lips with yours yet again, and you foolishly kiss him back. gojo pulls away too quickly for your liking, though his lips trail from the corner of your mouth to trail hot kisses at your jaw, to the slope of your neck. “promise we’ll be quick, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“b-but,” you stammer, head thrown back against the cold surface of the door as your fingernails claw to the fabric of his expensive blazer. you try to recollect your thoughts, perfectly aware of how risky this entire situation could be. you do not get wetter because of the idea of getting caught—no way, you’d rather blame it on the stimulation of your clit rubbing against muscly thighs. “i could lose my job! or worse, we could lose our jobs—”

“‘m not gonna let that happen.” gojo cuts you off sternly, hand leaving the dip in your waist in favour of cupping your jaw. his index raises your chin, enforcing eye contact between you both to ensure his certainty. there isn’t a shred of doubt in those cerulean orbs, gaze intensely strong as opposed to your shyer one.

the arm at your hips snake around the perimeter of your lower back to hug you snugly against him. you’re entirely at his disposition— body trapped between the door and his much larger frame towering over you, and you hate the way your chest tightens at the unreadable look on his face.

“ever.” he repeats more firmly, before planting a short kiss onto your lips. you’re taken aback from the intimacy behind the kiss, as if he really were trying to reassure you you had nothing to worry about it. he might’ve been reckless and utterly stupid, but when it mattered, he really could be reliable. “do ya trust me?”

“yes.” you answer honestly, and the grin he offers at your response confirms every shred of doubt you’d had in mind. of course you’d do this— you were as much unprofessional as he was.

“that’s my girl.” you jolt at the firm blow landed on your ass. when your lips fall into an annoyed pout, he’s quick to kiss it away, beaming at you like a child on their way to a candy store. “now go face the mirror f’me— needa apologize for not properly treating you right the last time.”

you’re sure he’s referring to your last encounter in his office when he’d decided to punish you for bad mouthing him by skipping oral, if the way he hiked your dress up to your hips, kneeled on the floor and spread your pussy lips apart said anything. you shiver from the cool air he breathes at your aching cunt, fingers gripping the ceramic sink before you.

“shitttt,” you moan, head lolling forward when you feel his tongue swipe from your clit all the way near your rear end. gojo latches his lips onto yours, and feasts like a starved man. he rotates his tongue into motions he knows will have your knees buckle the way it does, flicks it at your a swollen leaking clit, and fucks it in and out of your clenching hole. “f-fuck, satoru, oh my goddd!”

he groans loudly into your cunt, big hands gripping an asscheek each as he divulges into your core. you’re a slippery mess, and you can’t imagine how soaked his face must be by how sloppy he tugs and nibbles onto your labia, drinking up any fluid you have to offer him. he makes it nearly impossible to keep alert of any upcoming visitors— any time you attempt to regard the door, just a peek over you shoulder, he plunges his canines into the flesh of your ass and spanks at your cunt. it’s as if he wants you to completely trust and rely on his word.

“nah uh princess.” you feel the impact of the coolness of his rings against your warm folds, mixture of saliva and your juices splurting as he spanks you. you feel your thighs trembling as you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull from the pleasurable pain. “you’re offendin’ me over here. focus on me—not that damn door.” if you didn’t know any better, he was definitely pouting with a mouth full of your cunt.

how ridiculous.

“‘m just tryna w-watch out for the doo—ooohh!” his tongue finds its way to your clit and you officially give up. completely surrendering yourself to his disposition, you let your guard down and allow him to ravish you whole.

it’s proven difficult to keep your eyes on yourself as you watch your reflection through low lidded eyes— gloss smeared on your swollen lips as fat tears build at your lower lash line. your neck and chest littered in love bites, areas that are incredibly visible to the public. and under any other circumstance, you would’ve made a big fuss about it, but you simply couldn’t care with gojo’s index and middle finger pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.

you’re irresponsible and foolish, and admittedly shameful as you feel the infamous knot of arousal in your core tightening. your knees feel wobbly, and you’re moans tune into a higher pitch as you claw the marble sink. gojo reads your body language well, his pace steady as he simultaneously finger fucks your cunt while lapping at your bundle of nerves.

you shoot him a look behind your shoulders, the sight of your boss on his knees aiming to please you admittedly quickening the process, “s-satoru, fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimper, bottom lip tugged into your teeth. you remove your death claw grip on the sink in favour of carding your fingers through a set of fluffy hair.

he cocks a brow behind snowy locks, cerulean eyes peering at you with sheer intensity. he knows you’re close, could’ve guessed from how tightly you clamped down on his tongue, and he’s aiming to give you the best damn orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life because you deserve it.

it takes one, two, three jabs of his fingers at that spongy spot against your muscles for the dam to break. and it all happens too damn quickly to register—your eyelids beginning to shut close as your cunt squirts onto gojo’s face with the addition of an indifferent suguru geto at the bathroom door—

wait. wait wait wait.

your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as you’re quickly drawn back into reality, “oh shittttt— shit! w-wait, toru, hol’on a second ‘m— he’s right there— fuckin’ hell!”

it’s like he’s doing it to fuck with you, deliberately ignoring your pleas as he swirls his tongue deeper into your high. it takes a forceful grab of your fingers at his scalp to remove him away from your cunt, and even that makes him moan.

his skin is botched red and glistening wet in your arousal, a childish pout resting on his shiny lips. he looks like a child who you’ve confiscated his jar of cookies for overeating, “what’s the rush, princess? y’re kinda killin’ me here, ‘m not done with you just yet.”

“so is she the girl?” geto shuts the door behind him, back resting against the flat surface. he cocks his head to the side and presents his infamous smile— the one you’ve seen briefly in the hallways as you passed by him, on your way out of your boss’ office.

“hmm?” gojo tilts his head to the intruding voice, and when his eyes fall onto his colleague, he lazily shrugs his shoulders, as if his appearance had been the most natural thing. “oh, suguru—what’re you doin’ here?”

“they’ve sent me to come find you both as the closing speech is soon commencing,” geto pushes himself off the door and takes long strides towards you both. “though i did have my suspicions— turns out i was right. satoru, you fuckin’ whore.”

your heart beat wildly against your chest. your mind raced a mile a minute, thoughts in turmoil as you fought between the fear that settled im your gut from being caught by another worker but simultaneously feeling your cunt ache at getting caught by another worker.

“heyyy, that’s fuckin’ rude,” gojo squints his eyes at his friend, a firm hand raising to spank your ass. you jolt from the impact as you squeal, your face heating in embarrassment at the situation. “she isn’t the girl, she’s my girl. there’s a difference and you oughta learn it.”

geto waves a hand around as if to dismiss his complaints. “yeah yeah, sure.” the ravenette stops before you, and for the first time you notice just how much tall he is too. a large frame sitting in an expensive tuxedo towering over your bent form, leaning forward to sit at an eye-level with you.

your lips part, as if to weakly defend yourself from the shameful situation you’ve found yourself in, but before words can escape your throat, you feel his knuckles grazing along the slope of your jawline. the gentle touch begins at your jaw and trails down to your chin, where the pad of his thumb then fondles at the corner of your mouth.

there’s a hypnotic look in his eyes— a seductive gaze stuck in the endless pools of purple as he stares you down. despite still being clothed, you feel naked beneath his gaze, and yet you can’t find yourself looking away, even when he hooks his thumb into your mouth.

“hi beautiful. mind tellin’ me your name?” geto asks, the melody of his voice so honeyed that you can’t help the automatic response you give him. he chuckles, pulling his thumb out of your lips and swiping the wet digit against your bottom lip.

“gorgeous name for a gorgeous beholder,” you’ve heard that line before, most likely from your boss, and if it ever came out corny then, then it certainly didn’t feel corny now. “tell me y/n, has satoru taken care of you properly?”

gojo interrupts, taken aback by the nerve of his friend’s assumption of him. “what— of course i have! who do you take me for?” you can hear the whine through his words, though you were still entirely stuck in a trance by the man before you. “baby, tell ‘im i took good care of ya!”

“mind if i take a look?” geto cocks his head to the side, the tip of his nose grazing yours. blinking, you suddenly realized the proximity of the man before you, warm breath fanning above the dip of your cupid’s bow. “promise i won’t take too long. feel free to say no.”

and rationally speaking, you should’ve said no. you should’ve taken the outing and tell him it was unprofessional and entirely risky since you’d already gotten caught by him, and had it been any other worker, you would’ve surely been black balled for the rest of your career days. and yet, the way his touches felt comforting and safe, fleeting from the back of your neck down to your arms and chest, another around your torso—

oh fuck it. “yeah, g-go ahead.” you nod instead, your mind telling you one thing but your pussy telling you another.

“whaaaaat?! y/n!” gojo complains, but geto’s quick to smile at you, going as far as calling you a ‘good girl’ before quickly shoving gojo out of the way. he crouches down as gojo rises to his full height, one hand holding onto your cheek and spreading it as the other grips onto the back of your thigh.

you suddenly feel very aware of the situation at hand, and lower your head in shame, teeth nibbling onto your bottom lip. you feel like a slut— your pussy casually being inspected by another high figure at your workplace, meanwhile your boss leans against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face.

“not bad satoru.” geto teasingly praises his friend, the grip on your cheek spreading the flesh further apart, as your sticky cunt squelches in result. your lips then follow suit as they spread, and geto abandons the hold on your thigh in favour of swiping his thumb to collect all of your juices, before popping it in his mouth. “mmhm, she’s all wet and sweet too. can’t believe you were holdin’ out on me man. i feel betrayed.”

“ever considered the fact i don’t want to share her with anyone? much less you?” gojo retaliates, pushing himself off the wall to stand beside you. your brows furrow at his words, eyes following his steps before he plants himself at your side.

geto chuckles, an sleek eyebrow raising up, “oh?”

gojo ignores his friend in favour of directing his attention towards you, pushing your hair away from your face and behind your ear. you blink at him through thick lashes, tilting your head into the warmth of his palm at your cheek, “if you don’t want this at any time, just lemme know and i’ll kick his ass, yeah?”

“wait.” you hold onto the wrist near your face, and his blue eyes follow the point of contact before returning to your eyes. you suddenly feel bashful as he stares at you as if you were the only girl in the world. “wanna suck you off too. . . y’know, as a payment for earlier.”

“yeah?” his smirk returns to his face, fiddling with a piece of your hair between his fingers. you roll your eyes despite the smile that crept at your own lips. “i dunno sweets, it’s startin’ to sound like you’re in love with me or somethin’.”

“not even in your wildest dreams, satoru.” you scoff, grabbing the hand that played with your hair to rest it above the mounds of your chest. the fleeting touch of his fingers against your perky buds through the thin material of your dress has you humming in pleasure. you watch as his eyes light up like a child on christmas day, the smirk on his lips stretched even wider as he cups onto your sensitive flesh.

gojo pushes the material of your dress aside to free your tits, watching the recoil as your bud comes to contact with cooler air and instantly stiffens. “oh come on—you can admit it princess, y’know i won’t hold it against you.”

you lick your lips, “give me a break toru— hngh, fuck!”

“oops, my hand slipped.” geto comments, running his fingers up and down the entrance of your folds. you can tell by the sound of his voice that it was definitely not an accident, as he dips his fingers in and out of your cunt, drawing out moans from you.

you fail to see how gojo frowns, a bitter look on his face as his best friend snatches your attention away from him. it’s soon replaced by admiration when your face contorts into that beautiful look you make whenever you’re completely over washed with pleasure— and even if it isn’t him offering you that euphoric feeling, he feels his cock twitch in his slacks regardless.

“toruuuu,” you call out his name, your gaze unfocused as you stare him up with doe eyes. you watch as he gulps, completely enamoured by you. “whip it out already, need it in my mouth.”

you giggle as he wastes no time, fumbling with the belt at his slacks before dropping them to his knees. he pulls out his cock from his dampened briefs, dick standing tall in arousal. veins decorated the sensitive skin all over, his mushroom tip a raging red as it dribbled pre cum. you could feel your mouth salivate at the look of his dick alone, balls hanging heavily full of cum.

he tightens his fist around the perimeter of his cock, dragging it down from the base all the way up to his tip, a guttural moan heaving from deep in his chest. he’s taunting you, and you shamefully feel your cunt dampen at his wanton sounds, “ngh, you ready baby?”

from behind you, you hear geto’s slacks also fall down to his ankles as he pumps his own hardness right against the cleft of your reddened cheek. he taps the tip of his dick against your soft flesh, watching the recoil of your ass bouncing on his cock, panting heavily as his words come out breathily, “you—shit, good to go, y/n?”

you nod eagerly, legs spreading for stability as you bend your upper body forward. your hands grip around the firm muscle of gojo’s thighs, and your nose nuzzles in the bush of snowy pubes, his musk clouding over your senses in a familiar way. your tongue lolls out as it rolls over the sensitive skin of his ballsack and sucks, and gojo whines, hand immediately flying to the back of your head to grip at your hair tightly.

you can feel the tip of geto’s dick pushing past your first ring of muscle, and you attempt to relax the muscles of your body at the intense intrusion of his penetration. he’s fucking girthy— much thicker than gojo, though not as lengthier. he’s stretching you out in ways that has your limbs liquify in heat, fingernails clawing deeper into gojo’s pale skin.

“fuck, shit, you gotta loosen up f’me baby— you’re too tight,” geto grunts, hands gripping tightly at your waist as he lurches forward. your stomach tightens in lust as your thighs tremble, the intrusion of his cock balls deep in your cunt melting your brain. he’d just bottom out, and you already felt on cloud nine.

“feel s’good, ngh fuckkk—mmph!” your mouth is suddenly full, the familiar taste of saltiness resting on the pallets of your tongue. you hear gojo above you moan pathetically, hips already rutting desperately into the warmth cave of your mouth.

you’ve sucked him off plenty before and so you know just how he likes it— sloppy and tight. you hollow your cheeks and stay mindful of your teeth, as you relax your throat muscles and let him work his magic.

“there’s my good girl, fuck yeah— y’know jus’ how i love it, dontcha?” gojo smiles down at you, thumb grazing at the dent in your cheek. he drags his thumb over the outline of his cock against your face, “what a fuckin’ beauty, shit, keep doin’ great for me, hnghhh, ‘m gonna bust soon.”

“already?” geto teases, thrusts languid as they match the pace of his friend’s. his hips meet the curve of your ass in hypnotic bounces as your ass ripples off his pelvis, and gojo’s quick to roll his eyes.

“fuck you,” it’s meant to come off as an insult but when you take him even further down, a gag tightening around the length of his cock, it trails off into a desperate moan.

“no thanks, ‘ve got your pretty little secretary here.” geto hisses when your pussy clamps down on his cock. he feels sweat begin to collect at his hairline, and focuses on the grip of your folds latching at his dick desperately.

you feel a firm blow at your ass cheeks, your muffled whines echoing in the room at the stinging pleasure. you attempt to run away from the impaling dick in your stomach, but you feel geto’s hands grab at your hips, stabilizing your limp body before a hand rises up and pushes your back into a curve.

“and where do you think y’re goin’?” geto tuts, hips angling at a new position, one that draws a broken mewl from your sore throat. every moan resonates against the dick stuffed in your mouth, and the sounds travel from gojo’s tip all the way to his stomach, as he feels his balls tighten.

“oh god baby, y’can’t do that to me!” gojo mewls, matted locks glued to his forehead from excessive sweat. you feel his droplets trickle down to your forehead, dribbling down your face and combining in the mixture of fluids leaking from your lips.

you feel his dick twitching in your mouth, a telltale that he’s bound to bust his load in no time. you release a hold from his thigh to cup at his balls, gently fondling with the sack as you bob your head forward to match his pace. saliva pools from the corner of your mouth and dribbles down your chin to the floor.

geto leans forward, chest pressed against the arch of your back. his breath is warm and tickles at the column of your hickey-littered neck, and the stretch of his girthy cock spreading the tight muscles of your rim has your stomach knotting in foreign pleasure.

his hand creeps in between your thighs, fingers toying with your aching clit as his lips graze at the shell of your ear, “love havin’ this clit of yours played with?” he purrs in your ear, lips ghosting over the goosebumps of your skin, and despite being gagged, you nod your head frantically in response. he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside your cunt, grinding his hips and rubbing his cock into areas you had yet to explore. “such a good slut f’me, ain’t that right?”

“for me– ngh, me too!” gojo argues childishly, quivery pink lips falling into a pout. he runs the pad of his thumb against your cheek, hooking his fingertip at the corner of your lips, thus painfully widening the hole of your mouth.

tears quickly build up at your lash line, vision blurring when you feel geto pull back up, landing blow after blow on the planes of your ass. the harsh impacts and rough thrusts has your backside ricochetting against his pelvis, your pussy clenching uncontrollably. the sensation was one that left you speechless– besides gojo’s lengthy cock occupying your throat. it was most definitely an uncomfortable stretch, but every now and then, when you’d feel the coolness of geto’s rings trailing down your inner thighs and the pad of his fingers soothing the ache at your clit, it easily subsided into pleasure.

“shitttt, just wan’ stay in your mouth forever,” gojo whines loudly, head thrown back with his brows cinched. he’s completely forgotten about your own comfort, fucking into your mouth for the sake of his own pleasure. you watch as his abs contract, chest heaving deeply, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

another gag rips out of your mouth when gojo abruptly plows into your mouth, your nose all the way to his snowy white pubic hairs. he moans all prettily, hand clutching tightly at your hair at the back of your head, before pulling away and repeating the same motions, “hell yeah baby– just like that, fuck.”

with tears now streaking down your cheeks, your mouth salivates uncontrollably as you clamp down on suguru’s cock, balls heavy with cum as they slap against your clit.

“shit—fuck, hold on,” geto hisses, thrown off by gojo’s sudden pace. purple orbs trail at the curve of your back all the way up to your bobbing head, when he’s hit with an idea. you fail to see it, but the smirk he shoots at his best friend is enough to telltale. you can only realise they’re up to no good too late, when gojo mirrors the smirk before him.

“match my rhythm and watch how quick she’ll cum.”

and embarrassingly enough, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten when you’re pounded into roughly from behind. their pace now much quicker and rougher, your broken moans turn into gargles around gojo’s shaft, and in an attempt to run away from the overwhelmingly thrusts stretching at your pussy, you instinctively move forward, only to choke around a twitching dick. you then realise their plan, when you try to pull away from the mushroom tip stroking at your uvula and wind up back into geto’s possession, balls deep in your cunt.

well shit.

they treat your body as if it were a fleshlight– a mere toy for their own pleasure, and you couldn’t deny the objectification of your body at their dispense had your body tense in straight arousal. the bulge in your throat and musky scent of gojo’s bush overwhelming your senses, and the thickness of geto’s shaft tearing your hole apart had you coming undone quicker than you’d like to admit.

“oh yeahhh,” geto whistles, never letting up his pounding as you leak through your pussy like a faucet. “look at that pussy go– clenchin’ down on me like a whore. y’fuckin’ love it when we slut you out like this, hm? our very own cumdump– shit, gonna fill you up nice ‘n good.”

“that’s my pretty baby— mmhm, swallow every last drop, mkay?” you feel your mouth being filled with warm spurts of cum, thick ropes shooting down your throat as gojo groans. “s’good for princesses like you, fuckkk, better open wide.”

✧.*

“i’m. . . gonna get goin’ now. you two stay back.” you tug at your dress, fixing your appearance with a nod before exiting the bathroom.

the two friends are left in the space as they run water against the heat of the skin, cleaning up any trace of mess they’ve left behind. the silence is incredibly loud, despite the faucet leaking water into the sink.

“she’s cute. i see why you like her.” geto comments, rolling his sleeves up before pumping his hands full of soap. he clicks his tongue against his teeth, “definitely piques interest.”

“suguru.” gojo deadpans, staring him down through the reflection of the mirror. geto looks up and returns the stare, though the crease of his cheeks through his smile sets gojo off wrongly. he can tell what his friend is thinking, and he doesn’t want to play this game— not with you.

“don’t. . . please. just don’t.” gojo breathes out, chest rising up and down. he doesn’t realize his fists are balled tight, nor that there’s a frown on his face. “she’s different, and i really like her. if you consider yourself my friend, you won’t.”

geto eyes him through slanted eyes, washing off the suds of soap on his palms before turning off the tap. every second passes by agonizingly slow for gojo as he watches his friend move. his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his chest uncharacteristically tight.

he walks to the paper towel dispenser, before drying his hands and shoving the paper down the garbage. gojo’s eyes trail his every move yet again.

finally, purple eyes meet his and they curve into that infamous smile— one that could send chills down your spine if not on his good side.

“yeah, i got you.”

thank you @nantoji for beta reading 🙂‍↕️.

[discordantwritings]

Practice Makes Perfect (Katakuri x Reader)

Warnings: gn AFAB! Reader, Reader is normal human size, virgin! Katakuri, some feelings, size difference, big giant ass size difference, it’s basically monsterfucking, oral, premature ejaculation, grinding, frottage

WC: 5.2k

Summary: Katakuri is worried about his lack of experience in the bedroom should he get married off by his mother. You, a kind and concerned friend, are here to help him out.

Notes: this was supposed to be just a little warm up……. Oh well

Tagging: @keiva1000

While neither of you nor Katakuri would say it out loud you were both the closest thing either of you had to a friend. You didn’t verbalize it since it would be improper- you were one of the few high ranking pirates in the Big Mom Pirates that wasn’t a part of the family so you knew your position was precarious. Katakuri had his reputation to think of so you never blamed him for his occasional distance. But in the precious moments you two got alone, both of you relaxed just a little bit.

Like now.

“And that’s all the reports from the morning. Any news from your breakfast with Big Mom?” You sat on the edge of Katakuri’s desk, the only spot in his office that made it so neither of you had to strain your neck to look at each other.

“No new movements of changes to current plans.” Katakuri answers, his slightly muffled voice through his scarf as always but there was something in the way he answered that gave you pause.

“Was there something else?” You know how much he loves his mom- but everyone knows that she can be beyond overbearing.

“She says she wants me to be happy.” Katakuri sighs and you immediately understand the situation.

Everyone knows Big Mom is obsessed with growing her family. And while Katakuri is spared some of the overbearing pushing of his mother due to how much responsibility he took on- Big Mom still wants to see her darling commander in a happy relationship. But for someone like Katakuri finding someone casually isn’t an option and you know how long he’s been pushing back from an arranged marriage.

“Well, it might be nice?” You offer, but you both can easily tell you’re just trying to make him feel better.

“It’s not like I don’t want something like that…” He pulls on the overlap of his scarf, securing it even further on his face. “I just don’t want to force someone to be with me.”

“I know it’s not a great situation but anyone would be lucky to be married to you.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “You’re one of the kindest people I know. I’m sure you would make a wonderful husband.”

It isn’t until you see a blush creep over the edge of his scarf that you realize you might have gone a little too far. It was all honest- perhaps too honest- but you should know better than to be so upfront with him. Despite his cold exterior he’s incredibly soft underneath and the few times you’ve complimented him he’s practically ran away.

“Ah- well-“ You watch him flounder and decide to help out.

“I mean all of your siblings who have had their marriages arranged and that’s worked out pretty well for them! Sure it might take some getting used to but this is a really nice place to live.” You take the heat off of him and watch him relax a bit, still buried more than usual in his scarf.

“I guess…” From his voice you can tell there’s a bit more going on but you decide not to push him just yet.

“Well I have to get going and take these reports but I’ll be back later for the evening debrief?” You grab the reports sized for normal humans and slide off his desk, landing with a small thud.

“Yes, of course.” You can’t see his mouth but you can see the smile in his eyes as you wave goodbye.

You don’t stop thinking about Katakuri having an arraigned marriage for the rest of the day. Big Mom has clearly been bringing it up more recently and as much as you also wanted him to be happy you couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness whenever it was brought up. He was the one person you felt even remotely comfortable around and him getting a partner might disrupt the small world the two of you shared.

Of course, you couldn’t have a crush on your commander. There’s few things that would be worse than that. It would be catastrophic if you pictured yourself with him, spending time in his large embrace, sharing food, seeing what was under that scarf…

So, of course, those are things that are not happening. And even if they were to happen it’s unrealistic for so many reasons. Not only the fact that he was a commander but- well- he was big and you were not. Sometimes you forget that you’re an average size person when you spend your days with the Charlotte family. There’s no way Katakuri would want someone basically a third his size.

You though?

Well you wouldn’t mind being with someone basically triple your size.

It’s shameful the way your mind wanders when you look at his massive hands or the way you’re directly in eye line of his broad chest when you sit on his desk. The way he could overtake you in every sense of the word-

Your body had carried you back to Katakuri’s office for your evening debrief while your head swam with thoughts you quickly shoved deep down as you knocked on his door. Katakuri’s voice calls for you to come in and you really really hope observation haki can’t secretly be used for mind reading.

You take the ladder specifically set for you up to his desk, laying out the fresh reports for him. “Nothing noteworthy, just resupply requests and normal Marine movement.”

“Mhm…” Katakuri looks through the papers but you can tell his eyes are glazing over the words and not actually reading them.

“And tomorrow is a quiet day, just a few meetings that everyone will come to you for.”

“Ok.” He’s still staring at the paper that you know has no interesting information on it.

“Katakuri?”

“Mhm.”

“Katakuri!” You yell, not out of anger but just to get his attention- and it works.

“Ah- sorry- I was just… thinking.” He sets the papers down, adding them to a stack on the corner of his desk.

“You’re not still worried about this arranged marriage thing are you?”

“I… yes I am.” He admits, eyes looking shamefully to the side.

“We talked about this- I know it’s not the best but it’s not like you’ll be holding someone hostage.” You offer, sliding closer to him in an effort to get him to look at you.

“I understand that.” He sighs and finally glances back over to you.

“But?”

“But… it’s-“ He shakes his head and pulls up his scarf more. “Nevermind.”

“Katakuri.” You reach you and gently touch his forearm that’s laying on the desk next to you. “You can talk to me.”

You watch a blush creep up over his scarf at the touch but you don’t move your hand away. “It’s… I don’t want to be crass.”

Now that has you even more curious. “I won’t hold it against you. Besides, if it’s troubling you this much I want to help.”

“It’s- ah-“ He turns his gaze away again but does answer you. “I just have… no… experience.”

Ah.

Well.

Honestly, now that you’re thinking about it, it makes totally sense. Katakuri won’t even show his face to anyone and you’ve never seen him be casual with anyone besides very close family members or you. He was someone who took his duty very seriously so running off in his youth and having fun would be out of the question too.

“I’m sure the right person wouldn’t care about that.” You reassure him honestly.

“But there are certain expectations- and I can’t even be sure it would be the right person since I won’t have that much of a say-“ To hear a man of few words nervously ramble catches you off guard and makes you realize how painfully insecure he must be about this.

“Katakuri- hey-“ You lean into your hold on his arm.

“And- I mean there are only so many people in the world as tall as I am Mama was lucky enough to find people with comparable heights for everyone else but what if that isn’t an option-“

“There are ways to make it work.” Both of your hands are on his arm at this point, leaning to try and catch his gaze.

“And I could just accidentally hurt-“ He stops mid sentence as he processes what you said to him.

There a moment of painful silence as both of you catch up on your words. You’re probably blushing just as hard as Katakuri at this point, realizing where the conversation was headed.

“I mean- that-“ It was your turn to flounder, embarrassed that even a sliver of your thoughts had breached the surface. “There are… less than traditional ways to- never mind!”

You pat his arm and stand up, planning on leaving the desk and hoping you bash your head on the way down so you can forget this ever happened. However, as you’re about to do so Katakuri’s hand hovers in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. You don’t turn to look back at him but you can still hear him clearly.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but…” There’s a long pause and you turn to see him staring down at you, gaze surprisingly serious. “I would be indebted to you if you gave me some guidance.”

“Of course.” You answer before you can think yourself out of it. “What are friends for?”

There’s something that flashes behind his eyes at your words but you can’t read him before he’s awkwardly settling back into his hair and giving you space to sit down again. You sit back down, suddenly aware of just how hot your body has gotten.

It’s probably best to start easy. “So you haven’t- I mean I know you keep your face covered- have you ever kissed someone?”

“When I was really young, just some silly childhood stuff…” He’s back to not making eye contact with you, nose buried in the scarf. “But even kissing is…”

You’ve heard stories about what lays under his scarf- all sorts of tall tales that you’re sure aren’t true. You scoot closer to the edge of the desk.

“Can I see?” You ask softly- hopefully.

You watch his hand slowly creep up to his scarf, hesitating at the frayed edges. It’s unnatural to see him scared. You’ve watched him decimate hundreds of Marines without a change in expression- but here even you could notice the fear.

“Just don’t- please-“ You’re not sure what he’s asking but you nod knowing you would do anything for him.

He slowly pulls the scarf down and away from his face and it’s all too clear why he’s hidden that part of himself away. Large fangs rest at the corner of where his mouth should end but you see the thin line where his mouth continues close to his cheekbones. Despite how unnatural it is you can’t help but feel like it fits his face perfectly. The contrast of his pink blush against the sharp fangs is so perfectly him- nothing looks out of place. He’s watching your reaction closely, you can tell he’s using his observation haki from the way his eyes narrow but you don’t have to hide a single thing.

“Katakuri you’re perfect.”

You watch your honesty sink in with him, long moments of silence as he grows impossibly redder before he forces his gaze away to the ceiling.

“I guess- ah- well you can see why kissing would be a problem.” Thankfully he doesn’t move his scarf back up, content for now to tug at its ends nervously.

“Well…” You hum thoughtfully. “There would have to be some caution but I don’t think it’s a problem. Besides, if a person isn’t as big as you are then their mouth could fit right in between your bigger teeth.”

“I guess…” You watch him shift in his chair, occasionally glancing back over at you before refocusing back on a spot on the ceiling.

“So, see, nothing that can’t be worked around.” You nudge his knee with your foot, trying to make the air in the room less heavy.

“You’re right…”

There’s more quiet as the next part of the conversation looms, both of you knowing the real issues he was thinking about. You try not to be eager to talk about it, not wanting to push him too far and not wanting to come across as some pervert. You give him the space he needs and after a minute he speaks up again.

“I just don’t see a way around the… size problem.” His voice is quiet and breathy and you force yourself to ignore the heat rising in your stomach.

“There’s a lot that can be done without… insertion.” You cringe a little at your own word choice, but that was the least sexually charged term you could come up with.

“But I thought…” You see a small flash of embarrassed panic as his eyes dart back to you. “I mean- I’m aware of the other things! I just didn’t think that was, you know, enough…”

“It’s enough. More than enough if you know what you are doing.” Your gaze was locked on him and it seems like neither of you could look away anymore.

“Oh that’s… good to know. Very good.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you fight to keep your face normal as he slowly responds. “I guess that I just… need to know what I’m doing.”

“And I’m sure that you would be receptive to learning.” You know that not all men are but you know that Katakuri would be.

“I like to think I would.”

The way he’s looking at you so intensely and speaking so softly- you throw caution to the wind.

“I can help you learn, if you want.”

“Please.” His response is so quiet you almost think you’re making it up in your mind but when his large hand softly runs over your leg you know it was real.

You nod, not trusting your voice in the moment as his hand travels to the outside of your thigh and his thumb rubs comfortingly into your side. He leans in, large face taking up your whole vision as he hesitates just a hair away from you.

“We should probably go to my room.” His breath fans over your face as he talks and you nod, even if your body is screaming that you need to touch him now. “Is it alright if I carry you?”

The idea makes you giddier than you care to admit. “I’d like that.”

He smiles down at you as he stands up, easily picking you up with one hand and holding you close to his chest. Instinctively you reach out to steady yourself against him, your hands finding his chest. Your face burns as you realize you’re practically groping his pec but that doesn’t stop you from leaning into his skin.

You’re thankful there’s no one in the halls between his office and his room, unsure how either of your would explain this situation. He quickly pushes into his room, locking the door behind him before gently setting you down on his large bed. As much as you try not to you’re right at eye level to stare at Katakuri’s crotch. His large bulge strains against his leather pants to the point it must be painful for him. Before you can fully process just how big his cock is you force your gaze up to his face where you find him watching you carefully. Smiling up at him you push yourself further up into the bed, settling your back against his large pillows.

“Come here.” You say softly and he follows your request automatically, crawling overtop of you.

You reach your hand up to hold his face and he leans into your hand. You don’t push him to go faster, letting him slowly adjust to your physical contact as he hovers above you, propped up on his elbows. His chest presses down into your legs, a comforting weight against your body.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, full of sincerity.

You nod and he slowly moves down, hesitating just before his lips touch yours. From there you close the gap, gently pressing your lips to his. Your mouth fits snuggly between his fangs, only the smooth outsides press into your cheeks. Katakuri is frozen against your mouth and after a few second you pull away and look up at him with concern.

“If you don’t want-“ Before you can get the rest of your sentence out he surges back down, eagerly pressing his mouth to yours again.

He’s clumsy as moves his lips against yours but he more than makes up for it in how enthusiastic he is. Katakuri isn’t pushy though, letting you take the lead as you mouth molds to his. You take it slow and steady as he learns to match your motions. He’s a quick study though and the both of you easily transition to him being in control of the kiss. You don’t pull away until your lungs force you to, gasping as he nuzzles your nose with his.

After you catch your breath you press one more quick kiss to his mouth before speaking. “How do you feel about kissing now?”

His wide mouth cracks into a smile. “I think I like it but I’m not quite sure yet…”

You giggle as he captures your mouth in a kiss again, now more confident in his movements. You let your hands tangle in his hair as you lose yourself in the kiss. Eventually he releases your mouth to press more kisses into your jaw and neck. You can’t stop the breathy moan that eases out of your throat at his actions as your hands pull at his hair. He clearly hears you because he stops in his tracks, darkened eyes glancing back up to you.

“Tell me what to do next.”

You nearly faint at how sincere he is- but at the same time there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind that you might be using him. “If you lay on your back I can-“

“Tell me how to please you.” He shifts so his weight is held by one elbow, large hand running down your side.

“You don’t have to do that.” You say, barely clinging onto your reservations.

“Please let me.” Fingers lay at the waist of your uniform and the last coherent thought flies out of your mind when he pushes your shirt up and kisses your stomach.

You lift your hips up to quickly shove your pants and underwear down to your thighs before Katakuri helps them the rest of the way, tugging them off your legs and discarding them. He moves down the bed slightly, large hand splayed over your left hip and thigh gently keeping your legs open. Your breath is heavy as he stares between your legs and you fight off the urge to be insecure.

“Tell me- show me-” His breath tingles on the soft skin inside your thighs.

You let one of your hands drift down your body and between your legs, fingers seeking out your folds. It’s no surprise to you just how wet you are as you use two fingers to push apart your folds, to show Katakuri what you’re doing. Your other hand follows and you use your pointer finger to slowly draw circles around your clit. A whine drags its way out of your throat, already so worked up and on edge.

Katakuri watches you in a trance, fingers digging into your skin on their own accord as you whine and moan at your own motions. Ready to take it further you use your hand previously holding your folds open to dip inside you, two fingers sliding in with no resistance.

“You don’t- fuck- you don’t have to be inside but a lot of people like a- a mixture of internal and external-“ You do your best to explain as you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the lewd sound of your slick loud between your words.

“My fingers might be too big.” He’s not wrong as you watch them drift to the inside of your thigh and close to where you are working yourself.

“Don’t have to- you can use your mouth if you-“ Just the idea of him eating you out has your walls clenching around your fingers.

“Can I try- please-“ He sounds desperate, on the edge of begging you.

“Yes- fuck please-“

You let your hands drop as Katakuri uses his fingers to part your folds. His other hand maneuvers your legs up and around his face, your knees settling near his temples as he gets his mouth closer to where you need him. You watch his mouth split open and his tongue slip out, anticipation killing you as he moves slowly. Finally his tongue moves, the large muscle dragging a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit and you moan loud at the sensation. One of your hands grips into his hair as he repeats the motion, tongue digging deeper into your folds this time.

“Is that good- you taste good-“ He doesn’t even wait for your answer before he dives back in again, movements gaining confidence.

“Yeah- fuck- just like that just-“ You grind your hips into his face when his tongue reaches your clit again and he understands what you need.

He uses the tip of his tongue to press against your bud before sliding the thick muscle down again to slip between your folds. Slowly he presses his tongue into you, the size already overwhelming compared to your fingers. Despite his careful movements he pushes in too far too fast and you pull his hair hard.

“Hey- easy-“ You warn him and he pulls out of you quickly to look at you with concern.

“I’m sorry did I hurt you? We can stop I-“

“Just too much too soon- you just have to let me stretch out a bit.” You run your hand through his hair, petting him to calm him down.

“Okay, I can do that.” He presses a kiss to your thigh before diving back in.

He’s careful but he’s messy- part of it due to just how big his mouth and tongue are really. You feel your slick and his saliva coat your thighs as he laps at you, tongue seeking out every inch of you. The next time he pushes into you he’s much slower, letting the muscle flex inside you as you writhe beneath him. It’s wonderful but it’s just not quite enough. Your free hand goes between your legs and you almost have your fingers on your clit before Katakuri sends you a glance that stops you in your tracks.

“No-“ He says, barely pulling away. “Let me.”

You retract your hand and feel Katakuri’s thumb move to take its place, pressing down lightly as his tongue snakes it way back inside you. You swear loudly as he moves, grinding your hips into his fingers and tongue as he lets you use him to chase your pleasure.

“Just need you to- just move your finger a bit-“ You guide him and he obediently follows your direction, thumb moving in small circles like your finger had done before.

Looking down at him you watch as he’s lost in your taste, moaning into you at every grind of your hips and pull at his hair. You don’t miss the roll of his hips on the bed, no doubt desperate for the friction of the mattress beneath him. It’s all too much for you and you cry out his name as you cum, white blocking your vision. Katakuri doesn’t stop though, eagerly lapping at your juices even when you regain the strength to pull at his hair.

“Kat- fuck- baby stop-“ You don’t even register that you’ve said the pet name as he finally pulls off of you, confused.

“Did I hurt you again?”

“No ‘m just sensitive and it was a little too much right after I came.” You explain with a dazed smile.

“So you…” You nod and he smiles wide. “Didn’t want to assume-“

“Me screaming your name is a safe indicator.” You say with a small laugh.

He rests his head down, squishing your thigh and stomach a bit but you don’t mind the pressure at all, combing your fingers through his soft pink hair. The two of you sit like this for a bit, the silence comforting. Eventually though, you break that silence.

“I know you don’t like laying on your back but if you just want to sit up-“

“Oh- um- I’m-“

You’re a little confused at his reaction so you prop yourself up lightly to get a better look at him. “This is a mutual thing Katakuri- I don’t want to just-“

“Please, really don’t worry about me-“ You watch his face bloom with pink again and it clicks for you.

“Did you finish already?” You ask softly, no traces of judgement in your words.

“I’m sorry-“

“No- don’t be sorry.” You push yourself down so your face is level with his. “If you ask me it’s really hot that you came just from eating me out.”

“Oh- well-“ You press a light kiss to his mouth before he can stumble any further with his words.

“If you don’t want more I understand but if you can go another round there’s still some things on my mind…”

He captures your mouth in a messy kiss, a far cry from the chaste one you gave a moment ago. You can taste yourself on his lips as you’re pressed back into the bed by how eager he is. When you push on his shoulder lightly he breaks away and lets you breathe.

“Just don’t tell anyone about me being on my back.” He says seriously and you nod.

He rolls over, careful not to squish you in the process. As he does so you throw your shirt off, finally fully naked. Once he’s settled you climb onto him, his muscles flexing under you as you settle on his lower stomach. You watch as his hands ball into the sheets, forcing himself to stay still. As you slowly slide back though, he catches you off guard with a quiet question.

“When you said you had some more things on your mind… have you thought about this before?”

That freezes you in your tracks, embarrassment and shame filling up your stomach and catching in your throat. You lock your gaze to the side of him as you try and find your words. Logic tells you it’s stupid to be embarrassed at this point- he’d already enthusiastically ate you out- but your emotions dragged you down as you wonder if this really is just a practice run for him.

“You probably don’t want to know.” You answer, suddenly aware of how naked and cold you are.

“I just want to know if- hey…” One of his hands untangles from the sheets and a finger lightly presses against your chin to make you look at him. “I just want to know if you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have.”

That catches you off guard and while you think for a second he might be lying to you you see the honestly in his eyes. Of course. Why else would he show his face to you, lay on his back for you. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.

“I have been.” You confess, leaning your face into his hand.

You let yourself enjoy his touch, the warmth of his skin finally seeping into you and giving you the confidence to slink back down his body. You drag yourself down over the bulge in his pants, his cock already hard again. You slowly undo the large belt and fastenings of his pants, opening them up to see the dark patch in his boxers. Taking both your hands you tug the elastic waistband down and his cock springs out.

“I’ll just-“ One large hand gently picks you up as he raises his hips and shoves both layers down past his ass with the other, setting you back down where you were.

You would say thank you if you weren’t caught up staring at Katakuri’s cock. Obviously, it’s big. He’s big it makes sense but there’s a large gap between knowing something and seeing something. He’s flushed a beautiful shade of pink, large veins standing out along the underside. Your hand moves on its own accord to slide up it and the second you touch him you hear him groan. You scoot up closer next to him, and you would compare the length and girth to about the size of your thigh.

“Ah- I get the sensitivity thing now-“ He gasps and you smile.

“I have an idea- just let me-“ You swing your leg up and over so you’re straddling his length.

You’re still slick with saliva and your own juices, making it an easy glide as your grind yourself against his length. Katakuri’s hips buck up and you fall forward but before he can apologize you take advantage of this new position, licking at his smooth tip as you let your body slide against him.

“Fuck- that’s-“ You have the prefect view to watch his abdominals contract after every slide and lick you give him.

Your movements are not entirely selfless though, angling your hips so your clit grinds against him, bumping against his veins. You use your feet to slide up and down but it’s a bit hard to find a good rhythm as your legs aren’t used to this kind of movement.

“Need your help. I want you to slide me up and down.”

Katakuri looks at you, hand hesitating in the air. “But- I don’t want to just use you-“

“I want you to use me- please- this feels good for me too I just can’t keep it up.” You beg with him and that’s all the encouragement he needs as his large hand wraps around your midsection and slowly moves you.

There’s something about him using you, letting the soft skin of your stomach and thighs and folds grind against him, that makes your head go fuzzy. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before and it was bliss. It’s not very long at all until you feel Katakuri’s dick twitching under you and you know he’s going to cum again.

“Just let go for me, please Katakuri I want to see you-“

Your pleas are more than enough as you watch thick ropes of cum spill from his tip and onto his stomach. He holds you down as he cums and you don’t mind at all, getting a great view of his face from here. Eventually he relaxes and you slide off of his cock and wiggle your way up to his shoulder to lay your face next to him.

“Feel good?” You ask nuzzling into his neck.

“Very good.” He responds, still catching his breath. “Did… did you..?”

“No but that’s okay. Felt good.”

He huffs and you’re about to comfort him again but suddenly you’re flipped around with your back on the bed again. He stares down at you with a now confident smile.

“I think I could use some more practice then.”

[undertheorangetree]

Snowed In

Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.

Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)

dividers by me

"They've just closed campus."

Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.

"Closed? What do you mean closed?"

"It says they had to on account of the weather."

"No, they haven't. Let me see."

He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.

She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.

"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"

He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.

She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"

She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.

Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.

The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.

There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.

Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."

He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."

Read the rest here

[yuikomorii]

I got a question but I need an objective answer please. So I saw a lot of people complain about Yui being written in a very bad way in Ayato’s routes starting with More Blood and was curious if you think that she became a bad girlfriend as the story progressed?

// I will analyze Yui’s versions from Ayato’s routes and provide an answer at the end of this post.

More Blood:

Even from the first two chapters we are aware of the fact that Yui got a big crush on Ayato merely because of his looks and pleasure he gave her. At first sight, these reasons seem very superficial, but at the same time you can’t blame her completely for that. Yui went to a normal school and used to read magazines for teens, therefore it’s obvious she would have hormones and fall in love with someone who got features portrayed as the beauty standard.

It's understandable why some found her annoying, as she repeatedly cried for Ayato's love without making any real effort to earn it. Apart from giving him her blood, she didn't try to understand what he was going through, even when she noticed changes in him that made him crave so much blood.

Nevertheless, I believe that she did redeem herself in the last chapters, where she admitted being selfish and only thinking about her own desires, instead of focusing on Ayato’s struggles too. I know she paralyzed him out of jealousy and cheated on him in the bad endings, but in the good one, she’s actually a really loyal person. Yui waited years for Ayato to wake up from the coma and Ayato searched for Yui for years in his dream until he finally woke up. This ending confirmed the genuineness of their love.

In the After Story, Ayato planned to attend university for Yui's sake, aiming to get a job and buy a house. Yui helped Ayato with his studies and praised his skills. Initially, she fell for his looks, but in the After Story, she mentioned falling in love with him again because of his caring, determined, and hardworking personality.

Vandead Carnival & Lunatic Parade:

I really liked Yui in both of Ayato's routes and honestly, I can't find anything to criticize about her behavior.

It's not that Yui was a bad partner; it's just that Ayato was portrayed as too good, such as when he ran through flames for her or protected her from a bomb explosion. But that's likely because these are fan service games, where the love interests are designed to be your knights in shining armor. xD

Dark Fate:

I absolutely loved Yui’s portrayal in that route. It was the sweetest version of Yui I’ve ever seen, and I really enjoyed seeing her so happy and soft. Regarding her relationship with Ayato, he was truly the apple of her eye, lol.

The only problematic thing she did was pushing Ayato to face his abuser, Cordelia, even though he didn’t want to. I honestly don’t care if a character does something to another character, as long as it doesn’t affect them and the story, so since Ayato didn’t get mad at her for that, I didn’t mind it much either. However, from an objective point of view, I agree that doing such a thing is quite bad. Being in the presence of someone who ruined your life can trigger intense memories and forcing a confrontation removes the victim's agency in deciding how to cope with their trauma. Ayato might not have been mad at Yui for planning that, but if it had been Laito, I’m sure he would have shown why Yui was in the wrong.

Other than that, she was a kind and supportive girlfriend throughout the whole route, clearly having no ill intent, and I appreciate that she had an actual important role in the route.

Lost Eden:

Ok, I really can’t defend her anymore there. She literally had no redeeming qualities, no matter how many times she got the chance to fix herself. I discussed my thoughts about LE Yui in this post, but I’ll sum it up.

She tried to convince Ayato that despite Cordelia abusing him, she actually did it because she “cared about his future”, and then acted surprised when Ayato started feeling uncomfortable because of her words.

Yui knew the reasons behind Ayato’s behavior, yet when his brothers started mocking him, she didn’t even try to defend him. Everyone ganged up on Ayato, and he was on the verge of a panic attack, yet she remained silent.

Another terrible scene was in one of the last chapters, when Ruki admitted to turning the Vibora Clan and Church organization against Ayato out of envy, aiming to kill him. Instead of criticizing Ruki’s actions, Yui justified them and spoke ill of Ayato behind his back. I wouldn’t like to date someone who claims to love me but keeps hurting me without learning anything… It felt as if Ayato only continued being together with her because he had no one else. No wonder he didn’t marry her there.

Chaos Lineage:

I found Yui quite boring in CL in general, but she started off as determined and sweet in his route, so I liked that.

For most of the route, Yui’s entire personality seemed to revolve around Ayato, and she didn’t do much. There were many cheesy moments between them that made me cringe. Still, I’m sure a certain audience enjoyed those.

My only complaint is that when his brothers started treating Ayato unfairly, despite the fact that he came up with the idea of breaking the glass floor of the church, Yui did nothing to defend him, again.

However, I do appreciate that she gave him that adorable monologue. I just wish she had done it in front of others instead of only acting when Ayato was already insecure and sad.

Now… let’s see what kind of girlfriend Yui was in each route by judging her progress:

MB: Good

VC: Good

DF: Very good

LP: Good

LE: Very bad

CL: Decent

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER THREE I series masterlist WC: 5.6k

WARNINGS:

angst, language, nose bleed, headaches, asshole parents, pov switch, smoking, ron’s mean, roommate oc, flashback is italicized, let me know if i missed any

AUTHORS NOTE:

big thanks to the amazing @amiableness and @mischievousmoony for reading and helping me with this chapter! i love you both so much! couldn’t do it without you both!

hopefully this answers some questions you guys had! i had fun writing this!

After a restless night, you wake up feeling somewhat refreshed, though a faint unease still lingers, like a shadow just out of sight. You push the feeling aside, blaming it on the inevitable tension of the upcoming war. No one could expect to feel fully relaxed until it’s all over.

Determined to shake off the dread, you pull on your house uniform and head out to meet the trio in your usual spot, hoping the familiar routine will help steady your nerves.

As you fumble with your crooked tie, cursing under your breath at its refusal to cooperate, you’re so absorbed in the task that you don’t notice someone approaching until it’s almost too late. You barely manage to stop yourself from crashing into them. When you look up, it’s Luna, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watches you wrestle with the stubborn knot.

“Morning,” she says softly, her voice like a gentle breeze. “Your tie seems to be having a bit of a rebellion.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, “It’s not the only thing,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

Luna steps closer, her fingers brushing against yours as she takes over the task of fixing your tie. “There,” she says, her touch light but sure. “Sometimes, things just need a little extra patience.”

You’re about to thank her when she suddenly tilts her head, looking at you with that faraway gaze she’s known for.

“I think today will be important,” she muses, as if she’s sharing a secret with the universe.

You blink, caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

Luna smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Just a feeling,” she replies, before turning and drifting away as if pulled by some unseen force, leaving you standing there, tie now perfectly straight, and the uneasy feeling from before somehow softened by her presence.

Reeling from your conversation with Luna, you continue walking through the castle until you spot Hermione and Ron waiting at your usual spot. But there’s no sign of Harry, which is strange—he’s always the first to arrive.

“Where’s Harry?” you ask, looking around.

“Forgot something in the library,” Ron replies, rolling his eyes. “Said he’d meet us there.”

You nod, though Ron’s irritation catches you off guard. He must’ve had a rough morning already.

The three of you head to the Great Hall and find your seats. As soon as you sit down, you start piling food onto your plate. After missing lunch and dinner yesterday, you’re starving.

The chatter of the hall is a welcome distraction, and as you bite into a piece of bacon, the savory flavor makes you sigh in contentment.

As you chew, you turn to Hermione, eager to share something that’s been on your mind. “Guess what weird piece of clothing I found in my dorm last night?” you ask, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

Hermione raises an eyebrow, already playing along. “Don’t tell me it was Grace again?”

“It was Grace!” you laugh, enjoying how well she knows your roommate’s antics. “I found a Slytherin tie and a couple of jumpers by my bed. Honestly, I hope they didn’t do anything on my bed,” you add, making a face.

Hermione’s eyes widen, but before she can respond, you remember something else. “Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you guys,” you say, pulling a small locket from under your shirt.

You fumble with the chain a bit, trying to unsnag it from the loose thread on your tie. “Do you remember where I got this locket?”

You hold it up, letting the gold catch the light as you rotate it in your fingers. Ron opens his mouth to say something, but before he can get a word out, Harry suddenly appears at your side, his expression tense.

“Ron, Hermione, I need to talk to you—now,” Harry says, his voice urgent. He grabs both of them by the shoulders, startling all three of you.

“What’s going on?” you ask, but Harry’s already pulling them to their feet.

“Sorry, Trouble. We’ll be right back,” he says quickly before dragging them out of the hall, leaving you behind.

You watch them go, feeling a pang of exclusion. They’ve always had their secrets, but it still stings to be left out. You poke at your food, appetite waning, and glance around the Great Hall at the other students, all absorbed in their own lives. The noise that was comforting a moment ago now feels distant and hollow.

As you finish what you can manage, the morning owl post arrives, letters and packages dropping onto the tables. You’re surprised when two letters land in front of you instead of the usual one. You pick up the one from your parents first, already bracing yourself for the sharp words you know are coming. Carefully, you break the seal and unfold the letter.

“We heard you had an accident and fell. That is no excuse to fall behind in your studies. Make sure you catch up on any missed work immediately and seek extra credit if possible. You need to follow in your sister’s footsteps or you’ll never amount to anything—”

The words blur as a sharp pain stabs through your head. Your vision swims, and the hall around you seems to tilt.

You blink, trying to clear your head, when you see Theodore standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you.

“What are you doing out here?” you mutter, your voice thick with the remnants of the pain.

“I could ask you the same, Tesoro,” he replies, stepping closer. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of concern in it. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting long shadows across the courtyard.

You turn away, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m not in the mood, Nott.”

He doesn’t back off. Instead, he reaches out, gently catching your arm as you start to move away. “Hey, I’m not here to cause trouble,” he says softly. “Just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

For a moment, you consider brushing him off, but something in his voice makes you pause. You sigh, the fight draining out of you as you sink back down onto the bench.

He sits beside you, keeping a respectful distance. The silence stretches between you, but it doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected. After a while, you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket and hand it to him without a word.

He takes it, glancing at you before he starts reading. You watch his expression harden as he scans the lines, his jaw tightening with each word. When he’s finished, he folds the letter neatly and hands it back to you.

“They’re wrong, you know,” he says quietly. “You’re worth more than that.”

You look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks,” you whisper, though the words feel inadequate.

Theodore leans back, looking up at the sky. “You know, sometimes burning things like that helps,” he says casually, as if suggesting the most normal thing in the world. “It’s like telling them to go to hell.”

You blink, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Burn it?”

He nods. “Yeah. Why keep something that only hurts you?”

You consider his words for a moment, then slowly nod. “Yeah, okay. Let’s burn it.”

A small smile tugs at his lips as you take your wand out, feeling a little lighter. “Incendio,” you whisper, and the letter catches fire, the flames consuming the harsh words. You watch as the paper crumples and turns to ash, a strange sense of relief washing over you.

“Thanks, Theodore,” you say, glancing at him with a genuine smile. Somehow, he’s made the weight on your chest feel a little lighter.

“Trouble! Trouble!” Harry’s urgent voice pulls you back to reality. You’re still in the Great Hall, with Harry gripping your shoulders, his face etched with concern.

“What… what happened?” you ask, feeling disoriented. Your hand instinctively moves to your face, where you feel the warm, sticky sensation of blood trickling from your nose.

“You’re bleeding,” Harry says, his eyes wide. “We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey, now.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say, pulling away slightly. “I can go on my own. You should get to class.”

Harry hesitates, worry etched on his face, but Hermione steps in, gently pushing him aside. “I’ll stay with her,” she says, giving Harry a reassuring nod.

As you wipe the blood from your nose, Hermione takes you by the arm and guides you out of the Great Hall. You can feel the weight of curious stares from your classmates, but you focus on Hermione’s calm presence beside you.

“I don’t want to see Madam Pomfrey,” you start to protest, a hint of anxiety creeping into your voice. You know you should go, but something inside you resists. That vivid memory from earlier—it felt so real. But why was Theodore Nott, of all people, in it?

“I know,” Hermione replies softly, her voice soothing. “We’ll go to your dorm instead. You can rest there.”

Her understanding surprises you, as if she knows exactly what’s weighing on your mind. You try to piece together the memory. It lingers, just out of reach, teasing you with its importance.

You’re lost in thought, your surroundings blurring into insignificance until Hermione pulls you into your dorm room. She sits you down on your rumpled bed, her face etched with concern.

“Hermione, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to steady your racing thoughts as you notice the tension in her posture.

Hermione takes a deep breath, clearly struggling with how to begin.

“Something happened… something we didn’t want you to find out like this.”

A cold knot forms in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

She hesitates, then says carefully, “The fall you think you had… it wasn’t a fall. You were hit by a spell—by accident.”

Your mind races, trying to make sense of her words. “A spell? What kind of spell?”

“A memory charm,” Hermione says quietly, her eyes locking onto yours. “It was meant to erase specific memories. But it didn’t go as planned, and you were caught in the crossfire.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. “A memory charm… but I remember everything, don’t I?”

Hermione shakes her head slightly. “Not everything. We think it’s caused gaps, places where something important used to be but isn’t anymore.”

Your heart pounds as you try to wrap your mind around what she’s saying. “What did I forget? How much have I lost?”

“That’s the problem,” Hermione says, her voice gentle. “We can’t exactly tell you what’s missing. We’re trying to figure it out, but it’s tricky. We didn’t want to tell you until we had more answers.”

You feel a mix of fear and anger rising. “So, you were just going to let me walk around not knowing?”

“No!” Hermione says quickly. “We were going to tell you, we just needed time to understand it ourselves. But we found you unresponsive and bleeding…”

You sit in stunned silence, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “What now?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ll work through this together,” Hermione promises. “We’ll do everything we can to help you recover what you’ve lost, or at least figure out what happened.”

Her words are meant to comfort you, but the reality of missing pieces of your life—of not knowing what’s been taken—leaves you feeling detached. Hermione remains by your side, her presence a steady source of reassurance as you struggle to process this overwhelming revelation.

Theos pov: prior day

Theo hadn’t had much time to process the chaos Potter had unleashed. The shock of learning that you no longer remembered him, followed by the sting of your angry outburst, had left him feeling numb, as if he were moving through the day in a fog. He wasn’t even sure how he had made it back to the dorm. Everything felt surreal, as if he were watching someone else’s life unravel before his eyes.

He barely registered walking into the common room. Even Mattheo’s attempts to get his attention seemed distant and muted, like he was hearing them through water. It wasn’t until Mattheo physically grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a shake that Theo snapped back to reality.

“Salazar, Theo, you really zoned out there,” Mattheo said with a hint of concern, though he tried to keep it light. His eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Trouble?”

The question hit Theo like a punch to the gut. His body tensed, and the words he needed to say seemed to lodge in his throat. How could he possibly explain what had happened? How could he tell his best mate that he’d been secretly fighting against everything their house stood for, and that you—his girlfriend—had been caught in the crossfire?

Mattheo would probably tell him that he deserved it, that this was the price of betraying his house. Or worse, he might report it to his father, who would ensure that Voldemort dealt with Theo personally.

“She… she had a nasty fall yesterday,” Theo forced the words out, his voice strained. He hoped it would be enough to satisfy Mattheo, but his friend wasn’t so easily convinced.

“That why you disappeared last night? Is she okay?” Mattheo asked, his tone more serious now, his earlier humor fading.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Theo muttered, the words barely audible. It was the first time he’d spoken them aloud, and doing so made it all feel too real, too painful.

“What do you mean?” Mattheo asked, his expression hardening as the gravity of the situation began to dawn on him. Trouble who had been a pain in his ass and was finally tolerating you. Theo didn’t want to say it again, didn’t want to feel that same stabbing pain in his chest. But Mattheo wasn’t letting it go.

“Theo, what do you mean?” he pressed, his voice sharp and demanding.

“She remembers everything but me! Our entire relationship—gone!” Theo snapped, the frustration and despair that had been building up since the incident finally boiling over. He shoved Mattheo back, his fists clenched tightly as if ready for a fight.

The anger, the helplessness, the grief—they all mingled together, pushing him to the brink. Tears threatened to spill, but he refused to break down, not in front of Mattheo, not in front of anyone but you.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me! I’m trying to help,” Mattheo shot back, stepping closer as if to challenge him, his tone now serious and firm. Theo scoffed in response, rolling his eyes as he pushed past him, desperate to reach the solitude of his room.

Theo slammed the door behind him with a force that reverberated through the room, but he barely noticed the sound. He couldn’t breathe; it felt like the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him.

Everything he cared about—everything that mattered—had been ripped away, and he had no idea how to get it back.

His gaze swept across the room, taking in the chaotic disarray of his belongings, though none of it seemed to register fully. His bed, unmade from where you had slept just the night before, looked like a mocking reminder of what he had lost.

Your tie, casually draped over his desk, next to the book you two had been reading together every night, felt like a relic of a time that had suddenly been erased. Little parchment notes, filled with love and encouragement, were scattered across the surfaces, each one a painful echo of a relationship that now existed only in his memory.

It was unbearable.

Desperate for an outlet, Theo grabbed the nearest object—a chair—and hurled it at the floor with all his strength. The wood splintered and cracked, pieces flying in every direction. A sharp shard sliced across his cheek, but the pain was a mere blip against the emotions raging inside him. It wasn’t enough; the destruction did nothing to quell the storm.

His eyes locked onto the fire poker resting by the fireplace, an innocent object that suddenly felt like the perfect instrument for his fury. He seized it, gripping it with both hands, and began to swing wildly at his bed.

The metal struck the wooden pillars with a resounding crash, splintering the supports, shattering the structure into ruins. His yells filled the room, raw and primal, as he tore through the space, obliterating everything within reach.

When there was nothing left to destroy, when the room was nothing but a mess of shattered wood, glass shards, and torn fabric, Theo collapsed against what remained of his bed. His back slid down the broken frame until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the debris of his breakdown.

The numbness crept in, dulling the edges of his anger and grief, leaving him feeling hollow and lost. He stared blankly at the wall, his mind on the brink of spiraling again, unable to grasp what he was supposed to do next. How could he fix something so deeply broken?

His gaze shifted, and something caught his eye—a flash of color peeking out from under the bed. It was your jumper, partially hidden but unmistakable. He reached for it quickly, almost desperately, and when his fingers closed around the familiar fabric, he pulled it close. Dusting it off, he clutched it to his chest, his breath hitching as he buried his face in the soft material. Your scent lingered faintly, a comforting trace of you that seemed to cut through the haze of despair.

As he inhaled deeply, the tears finally came, silent and unchecked, sliding down his face as he held your jumper tighter. It was the first real release he’d allowed himself, the first moment he’d let the weight of everything truly hit him.

He had to find a way to fix this, to make things right. After his first class, he’d start working on a plan. He had to see you, make sure you were okay—and selfishly, because he couldn’t stand being apart from you any longer.

Theo rushed to class, almost knocking over several students in his haste. He didn’t bother apologizing; his mind was fixated solely on seeing you.

As he burst through the door, earning a few glances from his peers, his eyes immediately sought you out. There you were, sitting in your usual spot, and for a brief moment, Theo allowed himself to hope that maybe everything would be normal again. But as he approached and took the seat beside you, the tension in your posture made it clear he had been too optimistic.

He tensed in response, trying to keep himself together, even as the nausea of your apparent discomfort around him threatened to overwhelm him. Maybe it was a mistake to come to class instead of diving straight into research. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing you like this, not in his current fragile state. But what about you? Were you alright?

Lavender’s voice suddenly cut through his thoughts as she asked how you were doing. Theo’s heart raced, dreading what you might say, what Lavender might tell you.

This wasn’t how you should find out—not after everything that happened this morning. So he quickly cleared his throat, giving Lavender a sharp look that silently begged her to drop the subject.

Luckily, the professor began the lesson before anyone could say more. But Theo wasn’t paying attention; his focus was entirely on you. He watched as you suddenly winced, shutting your eyes tightly and massaging your temples. His heart clenched in his chest. He knew you suffered from migraines, but this one seemed different, more intense.

Normally, Theo would offer comfort, holding your hand or rubbing your back—anything to help ease the pain. You had always said his touch brought you relief, that his warmth helped you get through the worst of it.

But now, how could he offer that comfort when you seemed so distant? The image you had of him now wasn’t the same as it was yesterday. Still, he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

He leaned over, pretending to need more ink, subtly brushing against you. To his relief, he noticed your body relax slightly, and he felt a small surge of pride. It seemed your body still recognized him, even if your mind was struggling.

He stayed close for the rest of the class, finding some solace in being near you, even if it wasn’t the same. When the lesson finally ended, you remained seated, your breathing shaky. Theo wrestled with himself before finally finding the courage to speak.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

His voice seemed to pull you from whatever trance you were in, and you answered him hesitantly, clearly torn between confiding in him and holding back. Theo could see the conflict in your eyes, mirroring the turmoil in his own heart. To be so close to you yet feel so distant was a cruel irony.

Tentatively, he reached out, resting his hand on yours. The familiar softness of your skin was almost too much for him to bear. The urge to pull you into his arms was overwhelming, but he resisted. And then, to his dismay, you apologized.

Of course, you would apologize. Theo deflated, disappointment crashing over him. For a fleeting moment, it had felt like everything was normal again, like this was just the aftermath of a minor argument. But reality was far harsher.

This wasn’t a simple fix, and Theo wasn’t going to get an easy resolution.

Accepting your apology was a small hurdle, but saying your name instead of the endearing terms he used to call you—amore, tesoro—hurt the most. It felt foreign, like a painful reminder of how deeply the spell had affected you.

He could see that you wanted to say more, but then you recoiled, almost tipping backward in your chair. Instinctively, Theo reached out and caught you before you could hurt yourself further.

“Whoa, easy there. What’s happening?” he nearly let amore slip out, but caught himself just in time. Before he could say anything else, you excused yourself and hurried out of the classroom. Theo watched you go, his eyes never leaving your retreating figure, wishing he could take away whatever pain you were feeling.

Determined, Theo hastily grabbed his bag and decided to skip the rest of his classes. He needed to get to the library. Madam Pince could take all the points from Slytherin for all he cared. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Theo stood frozen in the library, staring at the seemingly endless shelves of books. He didn’t know where to start, and the thought of asking Madam Pince for help made him grimace. He didn’t have the time or patience to search the entire library by himself. With a frustrated huff, he yanked off his robe, tossed his bag onto a nearby table, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves before reluctantly seeking out Pince.

“Mr. Nott, shouldn’t you be in class?” Irma Pince’s voice cut through his thoughts, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in disapproval.

“What are the call numbers for any information on the Obliviate spell?” Theo snapped, too agitated to explain himself.

Her eyes widened slightly at his sharp tone, clearly displeased with his lack of manners. “Ten points from Slytherin, Nott,” she replied icily, before guiding him to the section he needed.

After a short walk, she pointed to the relevant shelves. “This better be for research only and not some mischief you boys are planning,” she warned, her gaze stern and unyielding.

Theo barely concealed his irritation, rolling his eyes in blatant annoyance. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, brushing past her to scan the shelves for useful books.

Pince stalked off, leaving him to his task. He gathered a few books and an old Daily Prophet article, his arms heavy with the weight of them. He dropped the books onto the table, pulled out some parchment, and prepared to take notes—anything that might help fix the mess he was in.

Starting with The Standard Book of Spells, Theo flipped through the pages until he found the section on the Memory Charm.

“The Memory Charm (Obliviate), also known as the Forgetfulness Charm, was a charm that could be used to erase specific memories from an individual’s mind. It was different from the spell that created false memories.”

Theo sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. This wasn’t new information—it was basic knowledge. Moving on, he opened the Daily Prophet article, hoping for something more useful.

“Obliviate is the incantation for a Memory Charm, a spell that erases specific memories from an individual’s mind. It is one of the most potent and potentially dangerous spells, as it can lead to severe and permanent memory loss if used incorrectly.”

His stomach churned as he read on, the words making his anxiety worse.

“The strength of the Obliviate spell depends on the caster, and in some cases, it can destroy memory so thoroughly that a witch or wizard may lose their sense of identity.”

Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. The thought of you losing yourself completely was unbearable. He couldn’t let that happen. For both your sakes—and Harry’s—this had to be fixable.

After jotting down some notes, Theo grabbed the next book, A History of Magic, and started skimming through it. Most of the information was redundant, but then his eyes caught something that made his blood run cold.

“Reversing the effects of Obliviate is extremely difficult, if not impossible in some cases. Restoration of memories may require highly specialized magical treatment and is not always successful. Memory Charms could be broken through torture.”

Theo nearly gagged. The mere thought of you being hurt, let alone tortured, was more than he could bear. He forced himself to push those dark thoughts aside, continuing to scan the text. His eyes widened as he came across a bold warning.

“Caution: If the spell is carelessly cast, the brain will be in a delicate state. If you stress this person too much or aren’t careful when trying to restore their mind/memories, the results could be unpredictable, even leading to a complete breakdown of the mind.”

“Side effects may include headaches, fainting, vomiting, bloody noses, and/or completely losing themselves. Keep the person calm, distract them, or give them a Sleeping Draught.”

Theo’s heart seemed to stop. He’d seen you suffer from a headache earlier, and now he was certain that the spell had left you in this delicate state. Despair gnawed at him as he realized how little progress he was making. The hope of finding a safe way to restore your memories was slipping through his fingers.

Reluctantly, Theo acknowledged that he needed to tell Harry what he’d found. Your friends might make things worse if they tried to help without knowing the risks. Gathering his things, Theo abruptly stood up, leaving the mess on the table behind as he hurried out of the library. He needed to find those blithering idiots—your friends—before they unintentionally made things worse.

But as Theo stepped into the hallway, he was surprised to find the castle cloaked in darkness. Hours had slipped away unnoticed, swallowed by his mounting anxiety and frantic search for answers. The realization hit him hard—he’d spent the entire day buried in books with nothing to show for it but a sense of helplessness.

He leaned against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, but he knew he couldn’t afford to crumble now. Tomorrow, he’d have to face them—your friends. They’d have to work together, whether he liked it or not.

Theo took a deep breath, the resolve hardening within him. First thing tomorrow, Theo vowed, he’d get them involved. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t stop until everything was set right.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough. Theo barely slept, his mind too consumed with worry about you. The absence of your familiar presence beside him made the night feel endless—he longed to wake up and see your peaceful face, to trace the contours of your features like he used to. What he wouldn’t give to have that back.

He needed to reach Harry quickly; there was no time to waste. Theo jumped out of bed and dressed hurriedly, ignoring the curious glances from his dorm mates—he was never up this early. 

Bounding up the stairs to the Gryffindor entrance, he didn’t care that he irritated the portrait lady as she reluctantly let him in. Thankfully, he found Harry’s dorm room without much trouble, and quietly crept inside. Theo moved to Harry’s bed, clamping a hand over his mouth, startling him awake.

Harry jolted, wide-eyed and reaching for his wand before realizing it was Theo, which did little to ease his nerves. Theo, unbothered by Harry’s panic, rolled his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. He motioned for Harry to follow, stepping back toward the door and waiting for him to get dressed.

Once Harry left a note for Ron, the two headed out, Harry nervously trailing behind Theo. They made their way to a secluded corner of the library, where Theo suddenly stopped, causing Harry to nearly bump into him. Theo turned to face him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Things are worse than I thought, Potter,” Theo began, his tone cold. “Her condition is more fragile than we realized.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though the guilt of what he had done was eating away at him. You had always been there for him, and now, because of him, you were suffering.

“Because you didn’t mean to cast the spell on her, it left her mind in a delicate state,” Theo explained, barely containing his frustration. “We can’t let anything stress her out. The side effects could be devastating, and we could lose her completely if we don’t handle this right.”

Harry nodded, already sensing where this conversation was headed. Despite the tension between them, he knew they had no choice but to work together. “What do we do?”

Theo sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know yet, but what I do know is that I’m the only thing missing from her memories. We need to keep researching.”

“We should tell the others too,” Harry suggested, realizing the importance of getting everyone on the same page.

Theo agreed, though with a note of urgency. “You go get them. I needed to talk to you first before they start interrupting.”

As Harry left to gather Ron and Hermione, Theo stepped out into the corridor, his nerves on edge. It had been two days since he last had a cigarette, and the stress was getting to him. He pulled one out, lit it, and inhaled deeply, letting the familiar sensation calm him as the cool morning air brushed against his face.

His thoughts drifted to you—how you’d always hold your breath when he smoked, jokingly scolding him but never actually asking him to quit. You hated the smell, but you’d still kiss him if he asked. The memory brought a small, bittersweet smile to his face.

As he spotted the trio approaching out of the corner of his eye, Theo sighed and flicked the cigarette out the window.

“So, what does this tosser want?” Ron muttered as they neared. Ron had never liked Theo, always suspecting he had ulterior motives with you.

Theo rolled his eyes. “I’m here to make sure you lot don’t make things worse,” he retorted.

Ron glared at him, ready to snap back, but Hermione quickly intervened. “You mean Trouble?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.

Theo bristled at the nickname—he always found it annoying and unoriginal. “Who else?” he replied, irritation seeping into his tone. “You have to keep her calm. There are too many risks involved, and we can’t afford to make her condition worse.”

“How do we fix it?” Hermione asked, her worry for you evident.

“We don’t know yet,” Harry admitted, “but we can’t stress Trouble out, while we figure it out.”

Theo added, his voice firm, “If she starts to realize she’s lost memories, don’t tell her what they are—especially not about me. She doesn’t remember anything about us, only what came before. If you spring it on her, it could be catastrophic.”

“Why should she remember you anyway? I’d say that’s a win, don’t you think?” Ron sneered, a smirk playing on his lips.

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly stepped in front of Ron, blocking Theo from moving closer. “He’s joking! We’re going to fix this,” Harry assured, trying to defuse the situation.

Theo’s jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his temper in check. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and rolled his head to the side before continuing.

He explained the potential side effects, what to watch out for, and how to keep you calm if a situation arose. They agreed to meet regularly throughout the week to share their findings and come up with a plan.

With everything said, the trio left Theo standing in the hallway as they headed back to the Great Hall—and to you.

Theo watched them go, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a stone. As much as he disliked relying on Harry and his friends, he knew they were all you had now. And if they didn’t handle this right, it could ruin everything.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he tried to clear his thoughts. He needed to stay focused, to keep his head straight if they were going to find a solution. There was no room for mistakes, no second chances. They had to get this right or lose you forever.

If you enjoyed, please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART ONE.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: guess who’s back in town: the sturniolo triplets. it’s for their birthday party their parents are throwing, the same party your parents force you to go to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,054

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’re locked in on the series, folks!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘 without seeing something along the lines of the sturniolo triplets, and it fucking pisses you off. your parents went to high school with theirs and were really close. your mom got pregnant with you around the same time marylou got pregnant with the triplets, your “best friends.”

the same triplets that left you months ago because of their career of being youtubers. the least they could’ve done was still message you, but no. they unfollowed you on everything.

you texted them multiple times, but all you got was one-word answers or no answer at all. as much as you didn’t want to, you stopped trying after a while because it was no use.

your parents still hang out with marylou and jimmy, sometimes even justin when he’s in town. at least you got one more best friend that you grew up with, nathan doe.

nathan is the youngest out of the four of you. nick, matt, and chris are turning twenty tomorrow and nate’s turning nineteen on the ninth. you’ve been nineteen since april, so you’re right in the middle.

you guys met him in elementary school and he was the last piece of the puzzle. you guys were even called the FOREVER FIVE, something you all made up at a sleepover in the fourth grade.

of course the three stooges didn’t drop him when they left. favoritism, i guess.

you scroll angrily on tiktok. it’s like the app senses your hatred for them and decides to put edits or clips from their videos on your for you page. this shit is definitely not for you.

then, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. “come in.” you call out, and your mother comes in. she sits on your bed and sighs. “what’s up?” you ask.

she gives you a face of sympathy, and it scares you a little. “the triplets are back in town.” she starts, and that gains your attention. “and i want you to come with me and your father to their birthday party tomorrow.”

“no.” you flat-out say. it’s no secret that your mom knows about your hatred either since you cried to her for a week straight about how they abandoned you.

“y/n, please.” your mom puts a hand on your knee. “marylou would love to see you there. she asks about you, you know. she misses you.”

frowning, you start to think. you miss her too. you never blamed her for what her sons did, but you haven’t seen her since they left. she is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. “and they’re celebrating nate’s birthday, too. you have to at least show up for him, okay?”

you exhale sharply. “okay.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 party the next day with your parents, making your way to the backyard where it’s held. not a lot of people are there, just close friends and family. you scan the area at the top of the steps for nathan, getting disappointed when you don’t see him.

marylou engulfs you in a hug the moment you step on the grass. “hello, sweetheart!” she exclaims, pulling away with a big smile on her face. she places her hands on your shoulders. “how are you doing? you feeling okay?”

“i’m doing fine!” you reply in the same tone, putting on a fake smile.

“thank you so much for coming. i know it’s been a little… strange for you for the past few months. i’m sorry about that.”

“please don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” you say and she pulls you back in for another hug.

“if you want, the boys are standing by the chips and dip. if not, don’t be afraid to make yourself comfortable.” she points to the numerous folding tables set up.

god, you missed this woman. “i will. thank you so much.”

you walk over to the table where your parents are, placing your things down before joining them.

“twenty years old is fucking disgusting.” nick rants, dipping a chip in onion dip and popping it into his mouth.

the other two giggle. “yeah, well—” chris pauses when he turns his head and lands eyes on someone. “holy shit, guys.” he taps both of his brothers on the arm.

“look.” he continues, pointing at you from across the way when he gets his sibling’s attention. “we have to talk to her.”

“chris, no.” matt says. “do you not know that she hates us? it was shitty, what we did. that’s honestly my biggest regret.”

“we are petty losers for that.” nick chimes in.

chris crosses his arms. he would do anything to get you back into his life. there was no specific reason why they did what they did. they ghosted a lot of old friends ever since they moved to LA, and you got unlucky. “fine. if you guys won’t, i will. i want to get my best friend back.”

“chris, wait! that’s not a good idea!” the two scream at him as he starts to march over to you, who’s now pouring pepsi into a red solo cup.

you gasp out of shock when you turn around and see a brunette towering over you. “hi.” he says lowly. “i didn’t think you’d come.”

“i came for nate.” you say coldly. “where is he?”

“he has to do something before he comes.” you move over to start walking, but he steps in front of you.

“chris—”

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he apologizes. “we miss you.”

“should’ve thought of that before you woke up one day and decided to pretend i didn’t exist.”

his heart aches at your words. the three of them really are assholes. “can we just start over? please?”

“start over?” you scoff. “we can’t start over after all of that. i practically known you since birth, and you want to start over?”

“y/n, i’m—”

you peek over his shoulder and cut him off. “nate’s here.” you eventually get out of his way and start to head over to nate, but stop and turn back around.

there’s a hint of hope in chris that you changed your mind, but he was wrong. “i kept the note.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “what note?”

ouch.

you laugh to yourself. of course, he doesn’t remember. “never mind. happy birthday.” you mumble, walking off into the crowd.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho

[cannellee]

If requests are open? May I receive a yandere!alpha baji with a resistant darling (knows what's up and immediately skedaddles)

If the request is too similar to any previous ones? You may disregard it.

Have a nice day:)

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ yandere! alpha! baji x omega! reader

— his reaction to a resistant omega

cw : yandere (possessive, jealous) behaviour, delusional baji (a bit).

read baji's yandere profile here : ☆

my masterlist : ☆

YANDERE!ALPHA! BAJI

if baji takes a liking in you, good luck trying to avoid him.

if you know what's up and put some distance between the both of you once you're close enough to notice some strange behaviour from him, it's already too late.

baji is assertive and determined, it takes more than that for him to renounce. especially when it comes to the omega he claimed as his own a good while ago.

it doesn't take long for baji to notice if you start taking your distance, making short replies and always finding ways to decline his offers to hang out with him.

he is not pleased, and while his feelings for you are very clear in his mind, he's extremely dense. you slowy backing away from his life isn't his own fault, nor yours. something is probably going on in your life, a friend of yours or an issue you've yet to fix, something which might prevent you from being your usual warm and cute self he oh so loves.

baji will confront you. he knows all of your whereabouts. he isn't much of a stalker : if he wants to see you he will make his presence known and force his company. but he remembers your usual routine from the way he would always take you home after school.

he'll pin you against a wall in a dark street. now you have no way out and can't excuse your way out from his questions.

"I asked you a question. you don't think I didn't notice how much you're avoiding me ?"

"if you know what's good you better answer me"

you merely can get out any words because of his domineering speech which reflects itself in his pheromones. your nose is burning and face is twitching, he's unbelievably close and you know your lack of response is getting on his nerves.

when you don't respond he's dragging you to his home. if you don't want to cooperate, he'll make you. you can try and trash all you want, baji is much more stronger than you and no amount of pleadings is working.

he won't hurt you though, you're his precious omega. but he'll make things clear with you until everything goes back like before. your smiles, your laugh, you greeting him every morning and helping him with homework after school, he missed them all terribly.

he's throwing you inside his room, locking his apartment door.

you're apprehensive and watching his every moves when he approaches you. you have nowhere to run anymore and your scent is sour.

you're trembling in front of him, wide eyes and avoiding his gaze. your vulnerability makes him go softer, he didn't mean to scare you but your behaviour makes his alpha go mad.

he can't protect you if you're always away from him. you should stay close by so he can look after you. by running away the way you do, you only make him chase you harder. as if he could leave you alone!

he presses a gentle hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb under your eyes where a few tears had unknowingly fallen. he visibly calms down and soothes you by assuring you everything is fine.

you only shake further, weakly getting rid of his big hand and turning yourself away from him. the proximity only makes you uncomfortable and you wish to cut off your nose if it makes his scent disappear.

by now you can tell he's forcing himself to stay calm, for you. what could make you have such a change ? he never did anything wrong. you blamed him a couple of times for how restrained he made you feel, but he only did that out of worry for you. he remembers your complains about the way he beat up a friend of yours, but baji wasn't in the wrong, if only that friend of yours knew to keep his eyes for himself he wouldn't have done that.

at the end of the day, you could blame him all you want for your problems, but he did it all for your sake. he's incredibly jealous and nobody seems to respect boundaries : you're his omega and others still act friendly around you. they should be thankful baji didn't gouge their eyes out for looking at you the way they did.

only he sees that, the lust and envy, both meddled in these people's scents. he hates it.

it took a lot from him to simply scent you, mark you subtly. it's still not enough, nobody seems to take a hint. but he held himself back, because he knows you and knows you need time. he also understands that he sometimes is a bit too overbearing, you told him countless of times. that's why he took it slow, never doing anything you wouldn't forgive him for.

but look at what it led the both of you to ?

you needed a strong presence right from the beginning, you're lost without any guidance. baji thought giving you time was the right way to naturally make you accustomed to him, make you long for him.

turns out he needed to be stricter. an omega should learn to ask for her alpha's touch but you only got further away from him. he wasn't present enough, didn't assure enough protection to the point that you felt like you had to find it somewhere else. he surely didn't give you enough attention, that's why.

baji will fix that!

now that you're here, you'll have plenty of time to start over. he'll show you how much his presence is needed, he'll demonstrate his affection and shower you with love. all of that just to engrave in that little brain of yours that you can not live without him the same way he can't live without you.

he will physically restrain you if needed, and keep you inside as long as he feels like you might leave him again if he lets you out.

and when the right time comes, he'll mark you, so you both can be bound forever!

[youronlydarlin]

Did "bit late" is with us in room? Because it was the fastest answer i got in my whole 10 years in fandoms!

And yeah if you can try to write Nikolai then i would be thankful! It could be anything just don't force yourself and if you can't just say or not :3 ( and I started thinking that I am "bit late" looking at how long it took me to write this 😭 )

Ohhh, one thing about the big, big Russian man is that it's dangerous to trust him. As he is an equally dangerous man. You shouldn't always agree to what he says, most often than not they'll have a hidden meaning to them. But you're so sweet :( unlike the others who walk on eggshells around him. Openly willing to converse with the scary man dawning a leather jacket, and aviators. And that's exactly what he loves about you. So soft n' pretty. He hasn't had anything supple to sink his teeth onto in a while. And the exposed skin of your legs from the shorts you're wearing are really doing him in.

So with a toothy grin, and lidded eyes he's cranking up his charm to a thousand. Convincing you to be his little helper around the workshop. You're so ecstatic, its positively adorable. The first few days were experimental to be sure. You had proper knowledge of tools, and how they work which made everything a whole lot easier. Though, Nikolai isn't surprised to know that you possess both brains, and beauty, only pleased.

He's really thought he was being slick though. Having pretty you traipsing around in one if his shirts after he "accidentally" spilled some oil onto your sweater. That plan soon backfiring as he wasn't fully prepared for the sight of you in the fabric.

By god's, you're breathtaking

Wether the fabric is too tight or too loose on your body he deems it as a perfect fit. The overall material of it is is dark, almost see through. Like satin on your skin, you could stretch at the sleeves without it tearing. Nik is too busy ogling your chest to make out your little 'thank you's' for the shirt.

It hasn't been the same from then on, you'd never know how he beats his cock to the scent you left behind on the piece of fabric, holding it up to his nose and roughly palming at his cock. Trying to mimic how tightly you would squeeze him, and he's all too suddenly closing his eyes. Jaw clenching as he sprays his cum all over the bathroom sink. Getting some of it on the mirror. He hopes he wasn't loud enough to have alerted you from behind the bathroom door. But the mere sight of you has him chubbing up in his pants. So he isn't to blame for the frequenting bathroom brakes, is he now, solnyshko?

a/n: AHHH m' sorry for making you wait, dear!! I had things that needed tending to. I hope this was to your liking!! S' my first time writing for Nikolai, I hope I did his character justice, and this was so much fun to do! He's just so 😳 N e way, I hope you enjoy this, lovely!!

Yours, truly,

–Dolly

[c2-eh]

I just had a charlos thought (prompt maybe??) Charles writing things about Carlos in his note book, and then losing said notebook which results in a mini breakdown because he HAS to find it before anyone reads it and he’s freaking out but he can’t tell anyone why he’s freaking out either, everyone’s searching for the note book which causes him more stress, Carlos ends up finding it but doesn’t read it but Charles thinks he has

oh god this has been in my inbox for A YEAR and i randomly found it now... idek if you still follow me anon or if you even care about charlos (you should they are fruity and in love!), but i come with 2k as compensation <3 it was funnn to write this! enjoyyyy luvs! <3

Charles is freaking out. Rightfully, if he were to say so himself, as he just lost a very important thing in his life.

The whole garage of his is up and on their feet, trying their best to find an A4 blue notebook that is filled with details about Charles’ life – mostly racing, because Charles’ life is racing, racing and racing again, so it made sense to do that.

And well, that’s what he told everyone. Acted like the said notebook only holds the racing knowledge like data, strategies, technical stuff, Charles’ feelings about the car, possible improvements and such things. It is half true, however, not the full truth. Not in the slightest.

No one knows why he is freaking out so much. Only Andrea. And Joris. And Antoine. Because Charles can’t keep his fucking mouth shut about anything, ever.

The tell-tale rapid breathing of his was a hint Charles should calm down and not overthink this, but the fact he couldn’t reveal why the search was so urgent, made him lose a bit of sanity each time someone approached him a question about why it was so important.

Racing is important, was be his answer, but no one actually believed him, because everyone knows Charles holds all the information in his mind. The notebook is just a help. A boost if you may. He lives and breathes racing and he would think back to the imperfections (or the perfections, but there’s not many currently) on the whim.

Charles was surprised and wondered why no one seemed to be disturbed by the fact he insisted and nearly shouted at everyone that if they were to find the notebook, they could never ever open it, no matter what. He could blame it on wanting a privacy, but why would you need that big of a privacy from your team, if the things in the notebook were about the data the said team has?

“Nothing?” Charles asked in dejected voice after around 2 and half hours of searching. One look at his mechanics’ faces and he did not really need a vocal answer. He sighed and thanked everyone for their effort, sending them off in the process, retracting to his room with his head hung low.

It’s not like Charles was drawing his and Carlos’ initials in hearts into the notebook, no, but there were some things that would easily reveal his true feelings towards his teammate and he couldn’t allow it.

He wouldn’t be able to swallow down the rejection – Carlos’ big brown eyes so apologetic, feeling sorry for him and just because Carlos is such a good guy, he would try to force himself to like Charles just to make him happy.

Only if that was actually possible, Charles thinks and scoffs, the sound echoing around the hall.

Charles loves Carlos. It took him a long time to come into terms with it and it was honestly a big messy battle within him – one of his heart and brain and probably dick too – which in the end his heart won, no matter how much his brain tried (did it?) to resist the feelings.

Charles returned back to his driver’s room, his mood still sulky. He was slowly losing hope, but at the same time gaining it, because if his notebook got lost somewhere no one could find, then it meant Carlos couldn't either. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Charles’ brain was determined to convince him that was the case (or maybe it was Charles himself trying so hard to not get his feeling revealed to avoid the hurting).

---

Back in his hotel room, Charles still feels a bit down and paranoid, but it quickly disappears once he settles deep into his bath. Hot water sooths his muscles and he sighs – for the hundredth time today.

The rest of his evening routine passes by quickly and just as he’s about to climb into his bed, his face moisturized and hair washed, someone knocks on his door.

It’s Carlos. Looking better than ever.

Charles’ breath hitches when he opens the door, but he plays it off with a cough. He curses himself for not checking who it was before. His teammate looks sheepish, shy even, with how he’s looking at Charles with his big brown eyes. However, once Charles sees what Carlos is holding in his hand, he is done studying Carlos’ handsome face. His breath quickens and suddenly he feels like suffocating.

“What is that,” he says, voice flat. His eyes are zeroed on the A4 blue notebook filled with his handwriting talking about Carlos, his hands, hair, nose, eyes, and… Fuck.

How fucking stupid was he to write it into his work notebook? Charles needs to not be close to that thing during boring meetings ever again.

“Wow, I at least expected a simple ‘hello’,” Carlos chuckles and Charles can’t even appreciate the sound now. He only frowns and misses the way Carlos’ face drops.

“Carlos,” he warns firmly and then, without thinking, snatches the notebook from his hand, not caring it’s rude, nor that he still did not invite Carlos into his room. He immediately checks it, listing through the pages to make sure everything is intact.

Once he is sure, he takes a deep breath and turns back towards Carlos that is now standing in the middle of his room, the door behind him closed shut.

Carlos is looking at him – studying him, his expression scrutinizing – as if Charles turned into alien or something. His brows are slightly furrowed and his full pink lips are downturned. Oh no.

“Care to explain what the fuck was that?” Carlos asks, crossing his arms on his chest. And Charles is not the God’s strongest soldier. His eyes fly over Carlos’ whole body, eyes stopping on his bulging biceps, before he snaps out of it.

Out of nowhere, Charles’ blood starts to boil. Why is this man acting like Charles is stupid?

“Oh don’t act innocent, I know you did it,” Charles scoffs and clutches the notebook close to his chest. He’s never ever leaving it out there in the open.

Carlos looks confused and Charles is momentary startled. He shakes his head. No, he definitely did, he wouldn’t look so guilty other way.

“I am truly confused, Charles. Can you please talk to me and explain what’s going on?” oh and if Charles does not hate when Carlos is calm and rational, all while Charles is losing his mind.

He rolls his eyes – over exaggerating it.

“I know you read it. The notebook,” he says, his tone harsh, "everyone would, because that’s who we are. It is in our nature to be curious and do something we would perhaps regret later, but also never admit to. You read my notebook. Or maybe even took a peak.”

Charles chances a glance at Carlos and he doesn’t look confused anymore, no. More like a little hurt, but also amused, which Charles thinks is the worst combination ever. Partly because how the fuck is it possible to have 2 contradicting emotions battling on your face, but mostly because what is Carlos hurt for?

“The curiosity got the best of you, yeah yeah, do not even apologise, I know it all. We’ve all been there,” Charles waves his hand, but he can feel his throat tightening and he mentally curses himself.

“I didn’t-“ Carlos starts, but then shuts his mouth and waits. Charles finds it weird. Guess he gave up on the excuses.

Charles sighs, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, but to no avail, “just leave it. I know you don’t love me back, so there is no need to feel bad for me. God knows I am fed up with that sentiment,” he says and throws the notebook on his bed, turning away from Carlos, “can you just forget it and go now?”

It’s quiet, eerily. Charles is not sure if it has been minutes or hours, nor if Carlos is still there.

“Charles,” Carlos’ voice suddenly sounds way closer than before, “Charles,” he repeats, firmer now and he has no choice, but to turn to face his teammate.

Looking up into those eyes should come with a warning.

“I did not read your notebook. I really didn’t. I found it under the counter where you keep your helmets, when I was tying my shoes. I did not give it to you, because you were not in the garage, so I took it into my room. I wanted to give it to you in person, in case someone would be a jerk enough to read someone’s personal stuff,” Carlos says, emphasising the last part of the sentence.

Great, it’s safe to say Charles feels like shit now.

“Oh,” he says, averting his eyes, “so you really didn’t read it,” it’s phrased like a declarative sentence, not a question.

Carlos shakes his head still, which Charles can only see from his peripheral vision.  He feels like dying because… because he just confessed without a need to do so. He's so stupid.

Big warm hands land on Charles’ cheeks and he has no choice, but to look back on Carlos’ handsome face, “can you tell me more about the love you mentioned?”

“No,” Charles whines automatically and Carlos has a nerve to chuckle. Charles’ head thunks against Carlos’ shoulder and he immediately feels Carlos’ hand in his hair.

“It’s okay,” Carlos whispers and Charles feels like crying, because here it is. The pity, the rejection he was so afraid of- “I love you too.”

Charles giggles and nuzzles his nose into Carlos’ neck. He stays there, breathing in Carlos’ scent when he suddenly realizes what the fuck he just said.

“What?” he abruptly moves away, almost shouting.

Carlos looks smug, with the slight smirk playing on his lips, but his eyes look soft. So soft and earnest Charles feels like his knees will give out from under him. It is all it takes to believe him, because he knows Carlos. He knows Carlos shows emotions through his eyes more than anyone else, because he’s seen it so many times it is integrated in his brain.

“You heard me,” he says and his smiles transforms from smug to soft and Charles launches.

Their lips crash and Charles puts every drop of his willpower into keeping himself on the ground and not climbing Carlos like a tree.

Kissing Carlos does not feel like anything he’s dreamed of, because nothing of sorts can compare to the real thing. Carlos starts slow, with careful closed mouth kisses that after a while start to frustrate Charles. He whines, to voice out his displeasure.

Carlos gets the memo and finally starts kissing him and Charles finds himself on cloud nine. He’s turned breathless as Carlos goes from slow, to vigorous open mouthed kisses, his tongue prodding at Charles’ lips to let him in. Charles moans, loudly, into Carlos’ mouth, sending a message of how much he’s loving it.

The tips of Carlos’ fingers run down Charles’ spine and a whimper falls from Charles’ mouth once Carlos grabs his ass, squeezing it. The action brings Charles closer. So close he can feel the outline of Carlos’ dick against his hip.

“Carlos,” he whimpers, his own hard dick rubbing against Carlos, “I need you.”

“Let’s take this to the bed, cariño,” Carlos breathes out, guiding Charles there before he was even done speaking.

Later, when they are lying in his bed, Charles’ head pillowed on Carlos’ shoulder, does Charles finally feel fully relaxed. Looking up at Carlos’ freckled face, his strong nose and big plump lips brings a strange sense of happiness and comfort to Charles.

(What doesn’t bring comfort, is the drying cum on his ass and thighs, but he is content enough to ignore it and stay in Carlos’ arms. For now).

“Why did you look so guilty on my doorstep?” Charles asks, not able to help himself. He needs to know, because the only explanation his brain could come up with back then was ‘Carlos is guilty’, which apparently was not true.

Carlos sighs, his fingertips slowing down their tracing on Charles’ back, “I know you were looking for your journal. Ricky messaged me.”

Charles is confused, “and?”

Charles giggles, the sound coming out of his mouth freely. Carlos kisses his forehead and Charles brings his hand up to Carlos’ jaw to caress it. He kisses his nose in return, then cheek and then finally his mouth.

“I could have given it to you back then or send it through someone. I was not back here yet,” he pauses and Charles says nothing. Leaving him space to continue whenever he wants, “but I was selfish. I wanted to give it back to you in private. I don’t really know why, “he resumes his stroking, his voice getting quieter, “perhaps I wanted an excuse to be with you alone.”

“I’m glad you did.”

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Tiny bit of Monster AU Brainrot-

Malleus calling human Yuu Child of Humans instead of Chile of Men

Human Yuu singing Human by Rag'nBone Man (I have had this idea for way too long)

Human Yuu just minding their business in gym class running laps, and sees Vargas running at them full speed in his monster form for the first time, scaring them so bad that they start haul assing to the woods near the field

Human Yuu starts gushing to Malleus about how cool he is, saying things like, "Your horns are so awesome and beautiful!" and "Your wings look so big! And your tail look so shiny and smooth too! I bet Vil could only dream about having a tail like yours!" (I just wanna shower him with my own endearing praise~)

I’d actually been debating for a while how Malleus would refer to Yuu as the last known human, though “Child of Humans” does sound fitting. /)Ò^Ô I think I'll keep it that way!

As for the song “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man, I honestly hadn’t heard that song until now and it gives me some interesting ideas on how some monsters may have believed in the past that—according to mythology—most humans were the bad ones and “put the blame on” them for certain things happening the way they did. For the researchers to be looking towards Yuu for answers to things that happened centuries ago, or for those who grew up hating human mythology in general and blaming Yuu for these things…I can imagine it would cause a lot of stress and anxiety even for the calmest and most collected person. Ó^Ò

This could also segway into how the monsters would discover the human penchant to express their emotions in a way that also sends a message, and if someone were to catch wind of Yuu singing this song (or happen to stumble upon it like the Light Music Club did)? Things would likely start taking on a different tone as the monsters realize that Yuu is just as much an innocent who knows nothing of what happened in the past: only that they were alone in the world, and that—like the monsters themselves—humans can make mistakes too.

Of course, being able to share songs that hold a special meaning to Yuu is going to be a magical bonding experience! ÓvÒ/)

Omg, Yuu’s very first day in gym class would have been chaotic 🤣 Let’s see how that first day went down…>3>

Under a read more due to length!

///

FWEET!!!

“Alright, everyone, line up! You have one minute to stretch before we begin doing laps around the track.”

Yuu felt small compared to the much larger monster students around them, realizing that some towered nearly nine feet tall. ‘I’m going to get trampled,’ they thought nervously. ‘I’m in a strange world, forced to attend school, and I’m literally going to get trampled by giant humanoid monsters doing PE.’

“Hey, Yuu!” a familiar voice called, snapping them out of their thoughts as they turned to see Ace waving them over. “What are you doing in the middle?”

“Huh? I’m…running…I think?” Yuu replied, feeling self-conscious about the multiple sets of eyes now on them. Glancing at the multiple pairs of hooves and claws, they muttered, “And trying not to get trampled over…”

“Don’t worry, you won’t get trampled underfoot,” came Coach Vargas’ response as he appeared in front of them, gesturing with a large claw to the inner track ring. “Smaller students will start out on the inside and will work their way towards the middle with everyone else. Though seeing as you lack any tail or strong legs like the others, this will be a test for me to see how fast and strong you are as a human. Just keep running, and you’ll do fine. And if you fall behind, I’ll help you keep a good pace!”

Nearby Yuu could hear a couple of students snicker and whisper, “Humans must fall flat on their face all the time without a tail. Just look at those weird legs!”

Whether they meant for Yuu to hear them or not wasn’t clear, but before they could think of a retort, they jumped when the coach blew the whistle again. “Stretches are over—get into position!” he bellowed, Yuu immediately scurrying over to join the other smaller students. “On your mark…get set…GO!!”

FWEEEET!!

In an instant, most of the monster students took off, most galloping on all fours while others somehow kept pace on two legs before the rest of the students followed suit. Yuu did okay at first, keeping pace behind a large eared faun with violet hair easily enough. But by the time they came close to finishing the first lap they’d fallen far behind, forced to stick as close to the edge of the track as possible even as a literal stampede of students charged past them.

‘Just keep running,’ they thought, feeling their cheeks burn with embarrassment as the students that mocked them earlier ran past with cackles of amusement. ‘I just gotta keep running…’

Rrrrrrr….

‘Just keep running, just keep running, running, running,’ Yuu chanted in their mind, keeping their eyes on the student in front of them as a pacer as they finished their second lap. ‘What do we do? We run, run, ru-’

“Gah! Not again!” someone yelped, running past them like a scared rabbit. A moment later the student they were following glanced over his shoulder, his eyes growing wide in pure fear and panic as he too ran faster. What was going on…?

“Rrrrrr…rrrAAAWOOOH!”

Hearing the bellowing roar and the shredding of fabric behind them, Yuu’s head whipped around to see Coach Vargas’ frame grow larger, fur covering every inch of his body as his face pushed out to form a distinctly canine-like snout while his arms grew into massive, long clawed paws. They’d wondered what sort of bear-like monster the coach was, but now they realized that—like Professor Crewel and Professor Trein—he was a werebeast…a werebear.

Charging straight FOR THEM!?!?!

“Oh, Sugar Honey Iced Tea!!!!” Yuu screamed, flat out bolting the moment the transformed coach began to charge after them. They couldn’t let him bite them—they didn’t want to be a werebear!! “Shit shit shit shit SHIT!!! AAAAAAAA-!!!!”

Students that had passed by them before now squawked as Yuu passed them, Yuu’s shoes pounding against the compact rubber ground while their heart hammered in their chest. Blood thundering in their ears, they didn’t hear the others calling their name as they bolted off the track, running full speed into the forest. All they could hear was the earth-shaking steps of the massive werebear charging after them, his growls and roars urging them to run faster and faster until—

/Sometime later/

“Can someone please explain to me why the human is stuck in a tree?” Professor Trein asked, Lucius giving a low growl to match his master’s scowl.

“They climbed up the tree on their own! Honestly, I’ve never seen any student run or climb so fast during PE.”

Tilting his head back to look up into the tree, Crowley heaved a tired sigh as he spotted Yuu’s terrified face barely peeking over the large branch they’d wrapped themselves around. They hadn’t moved an inch since he arrived, their eyes locked onto the coach with a ‘thousand-yard stare’ and knuckles turning white. “Did you even warn them of your particular training style?” the headmaster asked, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“I told them that if they fell behind, I would help them keep their pace,” came the response. “They’ve exceeded my initial expectations and even surpassed a few of their fellow runners!”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it was an impressive sight to see, and I admire your dedication to ensuring students get the most out of their exercise. That, however, doesn’t explain how we’re supposed to get what is quite literally the last living fragile human down from the tree before they get hurt.”

“Ah…right. Don’t worry, I’ll get them down! It’s been a while since I last pulled a tree out by the roots. Maybe I can shake them out?”

“Fragile, Ashton! Fragile!” Crewel growled out.

In the end, the staff somehow managed to get Yuu safely down on the ground. It took Crewel’s reassurances that—no—Coach Vargas doesn’t bite the students during his “encouragement runs” and that—no—it is highly unlikely that Yuu would even become a werebeast if they had been bitten by accident. Needless to say, Yuu was given a pass from Vargas running behind them in his werebear form, and he made a bit more of an effort to keep pace with them in his normal humanoid form to encourage them.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that the rest of the students were safe if he caught them falling behind!

///

Pfft…yeah, it went about as well as you’d expect when being chased by a bear. 😂 At least now they know that they can outrun him, and the other monster students got to witness the magic of human adrenaline in action! 0v0

Malleus interacting with Yuu…I can imagine that—as a dragon monster—he would sympathize with Yuu’s situation as much as Vil in how few both their species were. Perhaps that’s what first drew him to interact with them the first night he realized that Ramshackle was no longer an empty tomb—but rather, a sanctuary to protect something precious.

And precious they were, as with each interaction he had with them, the more he grew fond of Yuu’s strange human ways. Their admiration for him was tempered by pure, innocent curiosity as they speak. Each question they ask, he obliges with an amused smile or allows them a chance to touch his wings and horns. Each praise they sang to him filled him with warmth, freely allowing their hands to glide over the feathers of his wings or brush against the scales of his tail.

His mirth and amusement grew when they began to compare his beauty with Vil’s own, seeing their eyes light up with each new discovery or flicker of power he showed them. He may have grown used to hearing Sebek’s praise, though there was something endearing hearing a fabled human compliment him as though he were the only dragon fae monster in the world…and perhaps he was.

At least in that regard, he would be content to share this companionship with his Child of Humans.

[aurora-daily]

AURORA talks ‘What Happened To The Heart?’: “Apathy is the biggest enemy to progress”

AURORA in the interview for NME by Andrew Trendell (March 29th, 2024)

NME: Hello AURORA. Why did you start on this journey of trying to understand the symbolism of the heart?

AURORA: “The world has grown so accustomed to being apathetic. The truth has never been easier to share, but it’s also never been easier to manipulate either. AI was created without our consent; nobody asked us the people if we were ready to have something that big being thrown upon us. Now, so many things are going to change, which I don’t think we can yet grasp.

“Another true form of power is to manipulate people, to embarrass people, to lie; there’s so much that you can do with it that’s dangerous. People are so used to becoming overflooded by misinformation and information, and sadly we’re looking to our influencers and celebrities to tell us what we’re supposed to know about political things instead of reading about it or listening to true experts on the matter.

“Of course, I’m very vocal about things so I do think it’s important as a ‘person with a voice’ or whatever to show people what you stand for, but to be the only arrow for people to show them what they mean – that’s dangerous, as hell!”

Ah, that’s grim…

“I have a lot of hope, but I’m really concerned that everyone’s necks are fucked, everyone is hurting, everyone is tired and depressed. It’s fashionable to joke about nihilism and suicide. We have really lost touch with something that we used to have, and it was really beautiful.”

The last time we spoke was just before the release of ‘The Gods We Can Touch’, fresh after COVID when there was an air of optimism and change afoot after the activism brought on by George Floyd’s murder and a lot of talk about how we relate to each other and the planet. You said: “It’s always a good thing when the oppressed aren’t the only ones fighting and the privileged are starting to fight as well. That’s a sign of true progress”. How you feel about that progress now?

“We aren’t meant to look at a genocide [in Gaza] happening for four months on our phones before we go to work. Because of the overflow of information, our attention span is our biggest weakness. We know how to care about something for a little bit, then we kind of lose touch with it again. Our ability to be persistent with the progress that we feel like we deserve is also weak, which is understandable. I’m not blaming us for that. It’s a very natural reaction to where we are at a species now, but we’re still being forced to become apathetic.

“Apathy is the biggest enemy to progress. But I feel that in shadows and what is not on the news, there are so many good things happening. The world is literally on fire – whether global warming, injustice, slavery in Congo, or a war that nobody can stop. The people that can, won’t, because war is also business. But amongst all of that, a lot of good things are happening too. People are proving that we’re tired of peace in that we want more than that: we want real change and liberation and real progress.

“What was peace for me and you here in London was not peace for other people out there. I’m kind of tired of peace and speeches of peace, because we deserve more than that.”

In asking ‘What Happened To The Heart?’, did you find any answers?

“I kind of did. At one point the album gets very ugly, it gets very harsh, it gets very uncomfortable – before it breaks apart. Then at the end of the album there is insight and truth that you need to go and mend all of the rules that you didn’t acknowledge for all these years.

“That’s what needs to happen. Something needs to break apart a bit. Who knows where the world is heading? The least we can do is just keep being in touch with each other and ourselves.”

But it’s not as easy as that, right?

“We’re stuck in pain and many of us don’t have the energy or the courage to begin doing the small things that can make us feel so much better on a daily basis.

“Imagine what it is to be a human today: you’re on your phone, disconnected, being lied to, being manipulated, then you see what’s wrong with the world – or you think you see it but you don’t know how to do anything about it, so you escape into something else. Imagine living in that world where everyone is supposed to feed you, help you, talk the truth to you, is just constantly bringing you into a system so that they can make money.

The world’s on fire so let’s make some money?

“Yes, it is a bit like that! People are getting so tired of celebrities and politicians. People are getting tired of rich people celebrating themselves while the world is burning. You see people getting tired of it, compared to 50 years ago when it was all the rage and all a hoot!”

There’s been some discussion about whether people want reality or escapism in their music. You’re proving that you can do both.

“You can do both and you should do both, because art is both. It’s all about balance.”

You said that you made it a mission to only write for this record in “unsafe” spaces that made you feel quite alien. Where did take that you? Did it make you feel more or less certain about your ideas? 

“Previously, I have gone to a place, locked the doors, turned the lights down low and made an album. This time I wanted to try different rooms and temperatures to write the songs because I needed to access a lot of different AURORAs on this album. It gave me access to a lot of parts of me that I haven’t really faced before; even parts that scared me a little – very personal parts. I’ve been exploring my own darkness more, so it is maybe my most personal album, even though it’s about something so big.”

Did that lead to some new sounds? 

“It’s a very human album and there are a lot of things being played. It has a lot of different moods and every song belongs to a different part of the process for me. The album is very different from the three singles, but I like to release songs that confuse people. The fans really like the complexity. I treat the fans like kings and I would never underestimate them with my music. I know they’re going to feel very satisfied with songs that are so multi-dimensional.”

Do you feel like an outlier for that?

“There’s a lack of that. People expect music now to be very instant and free. That’s why there’s all this shit music going around on TikTok. There are also a lot of cool new acts on TikTok. I like that they can promote themselves.

“Anyway, I’ve been exploring a lot of different things. There are new sounds I’ve never heard before. I’ve been experimenting a lot and had so much fun. I nearly shat myself every day! Not that I have an issue with that.”

It’s a good sign of a good time

“I had such a good time. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s extremely playful, and I’ve been working with people I admire.”

Including Chemical Brothers’ Tom Rowlands…

“Always, my mate Tom from Chemical Brothers. We have a lot of fun. We feel like two little aliens walking around, and we have the same hunger for something exceptional. I’m really grateful. I texted him one evening just saying, ‘Tom – puke vomit all over my song please’. And he did, for like four hours.”

Did you get lost in his garden again? 

“I’m trying to not do that again. The one time I got lost in his garden it was his daughter’s birthday, and this time it was his birthday. I just love bothering him and his poor family on their birthdays – I never leave them alone. I gave him a cookie wrapped in a napkin that I found on the ground.”

I’m sure he’s OK. 

“Is he though? Has anyone heard from him?”

The album also sees you work with Ane Brun, Matias Tellez (Girl In Red, Maisie Peters), Chris Greatti (Yungblud, Blink-182, Pussy Riot), Dave Hamelin (Beyonce, King Princess and Zara Larsson) and Magnus Skylstad. Greatti is somewhat of a maximalist – what did he bring to the table?

“That! I tend to go into very dark landscapes. I like when my songs sound like a landscape, but I needed a few songs on this album to sound like a different part of the process I’m trying to deal with.

“Most of the people I work with come with a little strategy, and it’s based on me meeting them in a bar then saying, ‘Let’s go to the studio now!’ With Chris, it was because I liked his hair. He had a mullet and a glam-rock thing going on. I didn’t know who he had worked with before, but he seemed really interesting. We laughed a lot and we just played. Sometimes it’s about the art, sometimes it’s just about playing, and sometimes it’s about both. We’re really good friends now.”

So if Tom Rowlands brought out the raver in you, Chris Greatti brought out the glam rocker, what did Dave Hamelin bring out in you? 

“I remember I lost my voice when I went into the studio with him. It’s not often I work with new people, but sometimes it’s nice to be surprised by the unknown. Not The Unknown from that horrible Willy Wonka Experience…”

Oh you saw that? Are you not gutted to have missed it while you were in the UK? 

“I was gutted. I would have loved to have seen The Unknown up-close like that. Why the fuck was he there? It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, there’s your next music video

“Don’t out my ideas! But to be thrown into the unknown, I wanted to cancel as I’d lost my voice my manager told me to go [into the studio with Hamelin]. I was there for four hours, I said, ‘Can you make it sound like hell?’ He made it sound terrible like I wanted, I just screamed because I couldn’t sing and it was really satisfying. After four hours I said goodbye. It was a really fast, beautiful, ugly thing – but it was just what I needed.”

Speaking of that primal urge, you play some drums and percussion on this record too right? 

“I love being in touch with rhythms. I love a very big diversity in the beats in my music. A long time ago I realised that a lot of deaf people or people with hearing disabilities liked my music, so I make sure to always have a lot of vast variation in the bass regions so that it can be felt.”

How is the new album going to change the live show? 

“One of my favourite shows from my childhood – and adulthood – was Avatar: The Last Airbender (not the movie, we don’t talk about that). I always felt like I was either air or water, and I feel like people are scared to change. They’re scared of me changing, they’re scared of the world changing, and themselves. That’s the most beautiful ability we have; it’s so freeing. Jesus Christ! It will change. I want more air, I want to create more space. I want every song to have huge balls.”

You’re playing Royal Albert Hall on your 2024 tour. That has plenty of space for balls.

“Yes, Royal Albert’s balls! I’m excited for every show, and just excited in general.”

And Glastonbury? 

“Heck yes! In the name of mathematics, I will conquer Glastonbury. I feel like I have to redeem myself there. Every time I go there, I’ve always had a holiday for like a month. Boy, do I know how to take time off! I always arrive all shrivelled like a raisin. This time I’m going to come back fresh and sweet like a plum. I love Glastonbury because it’s so iconic. Make sure that if you’re going to use drugs that you know what’s in them. Test your drugs, but most importantly: don’t do drugs. It’s a fucking stupid thing to do.”

Any amazing advice to end on?

“Don’t do drugs, but don’t be a don’t-er. Do be a doer.”

[lavandula-ipsum]

Chrysalis | Unclean (ch. 1/2)

Luke Skywalker x Reader | angst, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, descriptions of injuries | 1.5k words

Summary: After (Y/N) was captured, she was abandoned for unending days in hell. Only one sign indicated that she was still alive, the name she kept calling through the Force, even after she lost all hope. Luke.

For him, this has been all his fault. He should have been there.

Now his dearest friend is back to safety, sitting in the water, her spirit beaten and distorted. “Can’t get out yet. I’m not clean enough,” she insists. Luke does his best to swallow his anger. All he can do now is stay by her side.

Link to AO3 | pt. 2

With the currents of the Force feeling elusive to his grasp, Luke can’t concentrate. Too many accusations reverberate in the air. With a sigh, he pushes all distractions aside in order to see them better and represses a displeased sigh when he finds that they come from within himself. It’s the same old voices that he’s trained to push away when they come wailing bitter memories of failure. But they’re louder this time as he contemplates how they make his fists tremble on his lap no matter how hard he struggles with his wrath. But he must drown it. What they’re asking is not wise, it will not fix what’s broken. 

It won’t heal her pain. It won’t bring her peace.

There’s no changing the past, but all the chances he’s missed in the last few hours, the consequences of arriving too late when he was needed most… 

Also there’s no way he could focus on meditation with Han shuffling through their bags, his usual avoidance mixing with the dread already floating in the room with an accentuated need for a distraction.

“What are you doing?”

“Finally, thanks for stepping out of your trance, kid.” Solo signals to the bathroom door with a reluctant grimace on his face. “Does she have a change of clothes?”

Luke takes a few seconds to answer. It's true that the girls’ bag got left behind in the chaos. Barely a few days ago, (Y/N) had shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal. We’re supposed to be back soon, aren’t we? Little did she know about the gruesome end this mission would have. That she’d be captured

“Where’s Leia?”

“She helped (Y/N) earlier, I think, then left her soaking. She’s gone down with Lando and Chewie to try get us a passage out of this ball of mud now.” He scoffs at his friend’s sudden furrowed brow. “Don’t blame her, she said (Y/N) insisted on being left alone.”

The young Jedi’s attention is now directed towards the adjacent room, where the girl’s aura vibrates almost imperceptibly. He’s only ever sensed her this quiet when she’s sedated. However, she hasn’t slept yet. All offerings of tranquilizers were turned away, insisting that all she needed was to wash off the grime.

“Threepio?”

“They needed him, so he also went.” Han grunts, passing a hand over his face. “Look, kid, I know this isn't the best moment. But I don't wanna go and spook her. Do you have anything?” 

Take charge , he’s begging. The young Jedi swallows and starts rummaging through the few things he's brought. “Not much, a clean shirt.” 

Behind him, Artoo chirps some sassy remark he can’t answer but with an annoyed grimace. While Han keeps looking through his own things, Luke gazes down to a clean change of underwear and hopes (Y/N) won't get offended when he offers it to her. He’s then again forced out of his thoughts when the ex smuggler hands him a pair of pants.

“These are Lando’s.” 

“Yep. They're nicer. And he has to spare.”

“And you don’t? Gross.”

“Who are you to talk, you monk?”

“I wash my clothes,” Luke complains, raising an eyebrow. Han throws the pile of clothes they’ve gathered to his face, causing the astrodroid to beep in amusement. 

After rolling his eyes, Luke signals the droid to wait for him in the room while he steps into the dark corridor. 

“Hey kid, I’m heading down to the lobby to keep watch of things, ok?”

“Alright. Thank you, Han.”

The ex-smuggler barely looks at him, but he squeezes his shoulder warmly when passing by him on his way to the door. Once he’s alone again, Luke finds himself standing in front of the closed door to the bathroom, his hand hovering over the handle. The cold ghost of everything that went down mere hours before stops him from touching it. (Y/N)’s face, covered in dirt and dried blood while she looked up at him with pure terror, blinded by the light, unable to tell friends from enemies after days in the freezing dark.

His dear friend, his trusted training partner, was abandoned for unending days in the middle of hell while he couldn’t do anything other than keep looking tirelessly, her faintly calling his name through the Force the only sign that she was still even breathing. 

He wasn’t fast enough.

Luke knocks softly on the door, still feeling guilty for breaching her intimacy. The last thing he wants right now is making her feel unsafe.

“I don’t mean to interrupt. I… I brought you some clothes.”

No response is given.

“(Y/N)?” he calls, getting no answer once again. “Is everything alright?” 

Now that he thinks of it, how much time has she spent in there alone since Leia left? Way too long for someone in her state, weakened both physically and mentally. His fingers itch on the handle. What if she’s fallen ill? What if she passed out? What if she slipped? 

No, he must get his shit together. If something happened he would’ve sensed it. Right?

Only there are so many terrible things he’s missed recently, things that have hurt her. The silence makes his voice tremble. “I’m coming in, ok?”

The warm humidity inside immediately envelops him. Luke quickly steps to the bathtub hidden behind the plastifoil curtain and, just as his fingers graze it, the water stirs on the other side.

“I'm fine,” (Y/N)’s voice sounds faint and coarse but, with the possible image he could’ve found of her inert under the water still thundering in his brain, it’s the most precious sound he’s ever heard. “I just fell asleep.”

“That's dangerous.”

“It's just a bit of water.”

That's more water than he ever saw together before leaving Tatooine, worth a fortune. He remains standing there holding to the bundle of clothes, regretting his scolding tone. Through the Force, a weak shiver reaches him originating from the woman, making him realize he should probably close the door to keep the heat in.

“I’ll leave these here-” However, a tiny voice, or more like an emotion, echoes in his mind without a sound, ringing faintly in the Force. 

Please, don’t leave me , it seems to plead. 

Luke swallows thickly. “Can I do anything else for you?”

The water moves once again, and he can picture her fidgeting with her fingers. The ring she usually fiddles with rests next to the sink, however.  “Can’t get out yet. I’m not clean enough.”

The effort to articulate those few raspy words weigh heavy on her mind and body, so he probably shouldn’t push her for more explanations. Instead, Luke gently reaches out to her Force signature. His stomach turns at the fragile nature of her aura at the moment, at witnessing the brittle, paper thin ruins that remain where her strong mental shields once stood, revealing the vulnerable heart beneath. It shakes, too beaten up to cry. This is wrong, so fundamentally distorted.

And it is his fault. He should have been there. The men that got to her know nothing, nothing of what they had in their hands. They are nothing. Just the last pitiful death rattles of the Empire. It would be so easy to wipe them out alongside the rotting legacy of their filthy lives. If he goes after them on his own, hiding in the shadows, they would never see him coming. That dark tingling gathers once again around his fingers, urging him to pick up his weapon and making those imps regret ever laying a finger on her. He desires to hurt like she’s been hurt, like the whole galaxy has been hurt. To pierce the darkness responsible for this with his blade, to crack and tear those men from the inside out until there’s nothing left of them.

However, her quiet, wheezy breathing snaps him out of it. It reminds him to cast away the scarlet flare of wrath and slowly bring himself back into focus. Those thoughts are little more than delusions. It wouldn’t be wise, it wouldn’t be fair, after all that’s been discussed about how to rebuild the galaxy from the ashes left by the Empire, all the hard work Leia and so many others have put into this; after he himself, alongside (Y/N), insisted on how important it was for the leaders of the imperial remnants to be brought to justice, if he went and gutted them in the dark because of anger. There’s too much anger out there already, and he’s tired of its bitter taste in his mouth.

It takes the Jedi a bit of struggle to reconcile that what’s needed of him right now is to listen to the helpless plea coming from the water and stay . So Luke sucks up a sob himself and sits on the tiled floor, with his back against the bathtub and his head resting between his knees as he gently retreats from her mind, so bare and open at the moment, and remains close to her tiny aura in the Force.

[lilyrizzy]

For the writing promot: yell 👀

The beginnings of a lesbian maxiel story bc…why not! cw: creepy straight guys & their slurs

“You two should kiss.”

It’s not the first time strangers have asked this of her and Max. It’s always guys too, hung up on the fantasy of two gay women being in the same room as each other, how it must mean they are entitled to a free show.

Daniel blames Pornhub and the videos she used to get herself off, hidden underneath her teenage bedcovers. All before she knew any better, before she knew where to find the stuff made for women.

Now, she just laughs like the good natured girl she is, while Max shoots the guy a death glare he can’t see.

The air of the bar is damp, sticky like you could cut it with a knife if you tried. Each breath she pulls into her lungs tastes a little like the tequila she’d merrily accepted and Max had refused, brought by the same assholes trying to hold their attention now. She might be a millionaire, but she’s not about to turn down free booze.

There are two of them this time, nicknamed Cocky and Cockless in her brain. She’s not going to bother remembering their names when she’s sure they know nothing about her beyond that she is a woman, a race car driver and bisexual.

“Maxy here isn’t my type,” she half shouts over the stready thrum of bass that is vibrating the floor underneath her feet. “As cute as she is.”

She shoots Max a wink, but it only has Max’s expression darkening and her eyes narrowing, all while Cocky, perched in the stool between them, grins. Cockless, stood besides Max, tries to get her attention by tugging at her elbow. She shrugs him off firmly, then harder when he tries again.

True to his name, Cocky is bolder. He leans further into Daniel’s space, not at all hiding his attempts to look down her top.

“I thought all the pretty girls were into the butch ones,” he says, a grin on his face as his eyes flick back up to hers, like they are in on this joke together. Like it’s not being made at both her and Max’s expense.

His words press against the same bruise that has been blooming across her chest since the day Max joined their team. Raw talent in the car and all cool confidence once you dragged her away from it. Everything Daniel both wanted and wanted to be.

It’s too much, too close to the bone, the same way the hand that comes to rest on her leg is, big and clammy, engulfing her kneecap.

“Daniel,” Max says, something deliciously demanding in her voice, like she wants this man’s hands away from Daniel’s body as much as Daniel does.

Daniel can’t make herself look at her, afraid she’ll give something away.

“Not me,” she forces past her teeth brightly.

Cockless has given up with Max, is instead flagging down a bartender to order another drink. Cockless, who seemingly only has eyes for Daniel, keeps laughing.

“And what is your type then, sweetheart,” he asks, and the condescension in the pet name is all it takes for her decide she’s done playing nice.

He’s running his fingertip of the hand not touching her across the rim of his glass. She’s sure he thinks is sexy, but in reality looks fucking stupid. She keeps the smile on her face and makes sure all her teeth are showing when she answers.

“Someone with a big cock,” she says sweetly, letting her eyes drag over his form. “But it looks like I’m not finding that here either.”

Finally she looks at Max who is still hovering at Cocky’s shoulder. Nodding at her, Daniel stands, shoving the creeps hand from her skin. Max doesn’t need words to know they are leaving, and instead simply follows as Daniel leads them away from the bar and back towards the teams booth booth. It’s filled with the foul mouthed Red Bull mechanics they call friends, that at least pretend not to imagine them fucking at all hours of the day.

“Hey!” The Cocky calls to their retreating back, and his sweaty fingertips slide against the bare skin of her shoulder for just a second as he reaches to stop her.

She turns, ready to tell him to fuck off, only to find Max already in his face.

“If you touch her again, I will break all of your fingers,” she tells him, like a promise. “And shove my cock down your throat.”

Cocky backs off, hands in the air as he mumbles something about, fucking dyke bitch.

Daniel hardly hears him over the pounding of her heart, the clenching of her cunt.

[incandescentlysomething]

Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 10

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 5508

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Started a new job this week so things have slowed down a bit! Only three chapters left!! Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

When morning came, Aelinor watched as her family packed their things, the Princess’ chambers emptying as quickly as they had arrived.

“You should be coming with us,” Luc muttered under his breath.

Aelinor looked up, finding him standing over her with a solemn look on his face. As everyone else packed, she had dressed in a plain scarlet day gown and was reclining on the chaise sipping a cup of tea. Maids and pages hurried back and forth, carrying away chests of belongings, but none of them belonged to her.

“You keep saying that,” She said finally. “But it won’t make any difference.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” he sighed. “This is wrong.”

“It is what it is.” She offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Now, go gather your things. Don’t leave it for someone else to do.”

He obliged, leaving her to her solitude once again.

Aelinor could not remember another time in her life when she had felt so conflicted. Only yesterday she had been approaching genuine delight over the news of her betrothal, and yet that dinner had ruined it. It had forced her to realize that what everyone had been telling her since their arrival was the truth. Aemond was not the same person that she had known before. He was capable of malice, of cruelty, and he had directed that hatred at her brothers. It was not in her nature to hold a grudge, and yet she did not see how she could forgive this.

Jace emerged into the parlor, wearing his riding clothes with his cloak hanging from his arm. Aelinor frowned when she saw how wilted he looked. Her big, annoying brother looked…beaten. And she did not want that.

“Jace,” She said softly. “How did you sleep?”

He didn’t reply, and when his eyes passed over her she thought she saw something like mourning in his gaze.

“Talk to me,” She whispered. “Please?”

With a heavy sigh, he walked over and sat on the arm of her chaise. “What do you want me to say, Aelinor?”

“Whatever it is you feel you need to.” She placed a hand on his arm.

Jace stared down at her hand. “Very well. Then I must apologize for failing you in this. I know I have been a frightful brother, and I am ashamed for how I have disappointed you.”

“You have not disappointed me,” Aelinor promised. “If you are referring to the brawl at dinner, I can assure you that I realize that was not your doing. I do not blame you at all.”

“You should,” He mumbled.

“Why?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “If you do not explain, I cannot hope to understand, Jace. And we haven’t much time.”

The reminder of their dwindling time together seemed to be encouragement enough. 

“You may mock me for wishing to protect you —”

“I don’t.”

“You do, often.” He said that without resentment. “But it is my duty. And it is a duty that I have often failed at. But I cannot help but feel that this arrangement, that my leaving you here, is too deep a failure to bear.”

“Jace, it is not your doing,” Aelinor said. “And it isn’t….it does not have to be the end of the world. I know you and Aemond have your differences, but he has always been good to me, always . I have faith that these….these familial differences will fade with time. I must have faith.”

Someday, and she hoped it was not someday soon, her mother would come into her throne.  And when she did, the world would be set to rights and the Queen and Rhaenyra would have to set aside their differences. Aemond and Aelinor would be married by then, maybe even…maybe have children of their own, and their families would be brought together by it. Viserys’ dream would be fulfilled, and all would be well. 

A dim part of Aelinor realized that holding onto that hope was the only thing keeping her together.

“But if he were…if he were cruel to you,” Jace continued. “It would be our fault, you see. Because no one hates you, but he does hate us. His mother hates us almost as much as she hates our own mother. They all despise Prince Daemon and he’s your—” 

Aelinor saw how he bit his tongue before he continued.

“He’s my what?” She whispered.

“We know, Aelinor,” Jace gave her a small smile. “Luc and I, we’ve known for a while. And we do not hold it against you.”

Aelinor looked down, her throat welling up as she fought to contain her emotions. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“We’re family,” Jace said. “Some secrets can be left unsaid.”

She squeezed his arm gratefully.

“My point is,” Jace sighed. “You are not going to be Aelinor to these people, once we are gone. You will be a hostage. Whether you realize it, whether Aemond realizes it, you will be. Which means that once again, I have failed you.”

It must have been a heavy burden to bear, she suddenly realized. Her brother had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was a future king, battling claims of illegitimacy from all sides, and doing everything in his power to keep their family together. She wondered then if perhaps she had made things difficult for him all these years, by constantly pulling away. If Jace already saw the divide between their families, then it must have seemed like she was slipping out of reach. It must now seem that she was being torn away from them.

“Jace,” She said quietly, leaning close so that no passing servants would hear them. “I have loathed you, and hated you, and wished that I could smother you with a pillow. But you have never failed me, and I have never, never, not loved you. Because you are my brother, and our blood is that of the dragon, and it runs thick.”

She saw water welling in his eyes, and he pulled her into his chest.

“What is this? Have I been left out of a moment?” Luc was back, wearing his own riding clothes.

“I’ve just been declared the favorite brother,” Jace teased.

“He’s lying,” Aelinor promised. “You hold that titled uncontested.”

“Good,” Luc stepped forward. “But, we must be going. We must get to the Dragonpit and it will be slow going through the city.”

Aelinor felt overwhelmed with sadness as she watched Jace stand and button his cloak. With a sigh she stood, crossing the room to Luc and pulling him into her arms. “Fly safe, little brother.

“Of course, Lina,” He laughed. “As long as I’m faster than Jace.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling away slightly as he squeezed her around the waist.

“You’ll be alright, won’t you?” He whispered.

“I will,” She promised. “I’ll have Darrax, after all. And when I see you next, he might be as big as Vhagar.”

“It won’t be that long,” Luc said insistently.

“That’s true,” Jace sniped. “If nothing else, we’ll see you for the wedding.”

“Your invitation may go missing,” Aelinor shook her head at him.

She was close to tears, so she gave each boy another hug before shooing them out the door. She would see them again soon, and there was no reason to be so undignified about this entire thing.

“Aelinor,” She turned, finding her father standing with his hands behind his back.

“Prince Daemon,” She bobbed her head.

He stepped forward slowly, his eyes catching on the red rimming her eyes. “I will not lecture you, nor do I expect you to take any advice from me.”

He was correct. “But?”

“But…” He reached out until his fingers brushed her shoulder. “Remember who you are. Because this place….it will try to tame you.”

“And how do you know that?” She asked.

“Because it failed to tame me.”

In true Daemon fashion, he let those be his parting words, striding from the room with two stewards hurrying after him. Aelinor almost wished he’d said more. She knew so little of her father, and practically all of it had been told to her by others.  But getting to know him would mean accepting who he was, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Her mother emerged from the bedroom, little Viserys on her hip. A maid hurried by carrying a chest, and thus the chambers were emptied. She came to stand beside her daughter, both lingering in silence for a long moment.

“Are you sure you wish to stay in these rooms?” Rhaenyra asked. “It will seem very empty with just you.”

Aelinor shrugged. “It feels as close to home as I’m likely to get.”

Her mother closed her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. “Aelinor, if you do not wish to stay here, say it. You can come with us.”

“What, and disobey the wishes of the King?” Aelinor scoffed. “Can you imagine the scandal?”

“You are my daughter,” Rhaenyra said, her tone stubborn. “And I will not have your life dictated to you. If you do not want to be here, if you do not wish to marry Aemond, you will not. I swear it.”

She knew that her mother meant it. And it was for precisely that reason that she knew she had to stay. With tensions as they were, she had to do her part to alleviate the animosity between the two families. Make them remember that they were one family.

“I will stay,” She answered. “Though I will admit, my feelings are not as certain as they were before last night.”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra sighed. “That was….that dinner did not go how I had hoped.”

“Parts of it were good,” Aelinor offered. “Or at least, I thought so.”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra studied her for a minute. The baby gurgled in her arms. “Aelinor, I know you want to think that Aemond is good, that he is the same boy you loved as a girl. But he is not.”

“I know that,” Aelinor admitted.

“And I do not think he is….I doubt he is the monster people make him out to be,” Rhaenyra admitted. “He was always sweet when he was young, and I do not doubt, nor have I ever doubted that he cares for you.”

“But?” Why could neither of her parents just say what they wanted to say?”

“The world is not up to him,” Rhaenyra said sadly. “It is not up to any of us. And I fear that even his best intentions may not be enough to protect you.”

Aelinor saw genuine fear shining her mother’s eyes, and once again felt emotion well up in her throat. “I can look after myself, Mother.”

“I know,” Rhaenyra gave her a small smile. “You are my daughter, after all. Which is why I have faith.”

Biting her lip, Aelinor wrapped her mother and her youngest brother in a hug. “I will see you soon?”

“As soon as I am able to return on dragonback,” Her mother promised.

“Perhaps with a new little brother or little sister?” Aelinor patted her mother’s stomach, prompting a snort of laughter. 

“You children are all impossibly impatient,” Rhaenyra chuckled. “I will not be rushed.”

“No, of course not,” Aelinor laughed. “But yet I must remind you that your ship is waiting.”

“Yes, it is.” Rhaenyra’s smile dampened slightly. “I love you, Sweet girl. Be well.”

“Be well, Mother.” Aelinor squeezed her hand one last time, before she was left alone.

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

She sat in the window until she saw her mother’s ship sail from the harbor and disappear from view. Once they were well and truly gone, she finally allowed herself to cry. She knew she was being ridiculous, that she would see her family again soon, and that many women her age had long since left their childhood homes behind. 

But that didn’t make it any easier.

Already she saw some wisdom behind her mother’s words. These chambers did remind her of her family. While that would likely be a comfort in the coming weeks, it was agony now. With a quick word to her maid, she left the rooms, heading toward the palace gardens.

The halls were still quiet, with many of the lords and ladies having left already following the ball. Soon it would trickle down just to the permanent residents of the Keep, and Aelinor was looking forward to being surrounded by only familiar faces.

But then, the thought of being alone in this castle, unable to put a crowd between herself and Aemond….it sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

In her entire life, she had never once dreaded seeing Aemond. The opposite, in fact, when she had spent the majority of her life either with him or missing him. And she did miss him, which was absurd because they had seen each other yesterday. But that dinner…the things he had said…she felt as though he had driven a wedge between them.

And honestly…. fuck him . Why did he have to go and ruin something that could have been so wonderful? They were supposed to be celebrating their betrothal, she was supposed to be beaming with joy, and instead she was filled with worry and dread. 

The cool breeze of the gardens was a refreshing change from the stone halls, and she picked a path and started to stroll through. It was still too early for the flowers to be in full bloom, but the greenery and topiaries were lush and plentiful. It was a dramatic change from Dragonstone, which sported little more than grass and shrubs. No one else seemed to be out this early in the morning, so Aelinor took her time, letting her feet drag on the ground. Perhaps later she might be able to sneak away and take Darrax for a short flight. That always improved her moods.

“Bit early for a walk, isn’t it?” 

A figure stepped into her path, the man leaning heavily on his cane as he dipped his head. Aelinor stopped in her tracks, managing to keep a grimace off her face. It was the unnerving man from the ball. She had hoped that he would leave with the guests, but he was here in the royal gardens, which suggested that he was a permanent resident. 

“Your family is…all gone?” He tilted his head.

Aelinor steadied herself, straightening her shoulders. “The Princess Rhaenyra and the rest of my siblings did indeed leave this morning.”

“And yet, you’re still here?”

She frowned. “What is your name, Ser? I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.”

“Lord Larys!” 

Gods, Aemond’s voice made her want to flee, propriety be damned. She practically felt a shadow fall over her as he loomed behind her, and she closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. If she turned, he would be only inches away. She didn’t know what she could say to him, what she would do.

Which was why she didn’t turn.

Instead, she studied the man in front of her, his name alighting a tiny spark of familiarity in her mind. “Lord Larys Strong?”

“Indeed, Princess.” He dipped his head again, a greasy smile on his face. “I knew you, when you were very young.”

She could not recall ever speaking to him, but she supposed it was not impossible. After all, his father had been Hand of the King at the same time his elder brother was serving as guard to Princess Rhaenyra. This was her brothers’ uncle, though she could find no similarity between the swarmy man in front of her and the gallant figure she remembered Ser Harwin to be.

“It is…nice to see you again.” She offered, trying to keep her reluctance out of her voice.

Lord Larys nodded again. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you, Princess. As it is, I am needed elsewhere.”

Aelinor suspected that he had nothing better to do than skulk through the gardens, but that his hurried departure was spurred on by the Prince looming behind her. She turned and watched Lord Larys limp away, until he had disappeared from view and she had no choice but to face Aemond.

He stepped back when she turned, putting a much needed distance between them. The first thing she noticed was that he looked exhausted. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his face was pale and somber. His hair hung loose about his head, and she realized that the unbuttoned tunic he wore was the same that he had been wearing at dinner.

An immature part of her felt some satisfaction at his appearance. He deserved to lose sleep over what he had done. He had hurt her brothers, caused outrage and scandal at a family gathering, and most importantly, he had hurt her .

But that spite was quickly overshadowed by concern. “You do not look well.”

“Sleep did not find me,” He clasped his hands behind his back. 

“It’s still early,” She gestured to the empty garden. “You could still be abed.”

He shook his head. “I needed to find you.”

It seemed that they were doomed to repeat themselves. Aemond would do something, there would be a misunderstanding, and then they would talk and she would be open and forgiving. Even now, she felt the urge to question him, to demand that he rationalize why he had said what he said.

But she would not give in. Not this time. “Why did you need to find me?”

“You know why.” He implored.

“No,” Aelinor started walking, leaving him to follow behind her. “No, I do not. Enlighten me.”

He stayed a few steps behind her, within earshot and yet too far for her to catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. “About dinner.”

Aelinor shook her head. “I do not care for subtleties, Aemond. If you want to talk, then talk. I will not help you along.”

There was a long silence. “I suppose that is fair.”

It was more than fair, and they both knew it. Aelinor turned a corner, heading to the balcony that overlooked the city. 

“You are angry with me.” Aemond said finally.

She scoffed. “Of course I am! You took what should have been a happy occasion and used it to ridicule my family. Am I supposed to be pleased?”

She bypassed the small garden table and chairs and walked to the railing, leaning over the stone to peer down at King’s Landing. If the Keep was having a slow morning, the city proper was positively bustling. Smoke rose from chimneys and even from here she could see vendors readying their carts to be pushed to market. It all seemed a world away.

Aemond stopped beside her, and when she looked up she found his gaze trained on her. 

“Why did you do it?” She whispered.

“I…I don’t know.” He looked down.

She frowned. “I don’t believe you. Give me a reason. Help me to understand. Because I refuse to build a marriage on uncertainties.”

Reminding him of their betrothal seemed to spur something in him, and he swallowed. “Aren’t you angry at them?”

“At who?” 

“Your brothers. Well, Jacaerys and Lucerys, I have no grudge against the little ones.” 

“Why on earth would I be angry at them?” She asked. “You started that fight. Not them.”

He was silent for a long time, so long that she wondered if he ever intended on answering her. 

“Do you not remember how they burned you? How they scarred me? How they taunted me with a pig all my life until I claimed Vhagar? How have you forgotten all that?”

“I have forgotten nothing!” She exclaimed. “But they were children, Aemond! We were all children. What is mine to forgive, I have forgiven. They have grown. We all have changed.”

“Your brother carved out my eye!” He shouted, gesturing to his face.

“Yes. Yes, he did,” Aelinor stepped away, crossing her arms. “And moments earlier you had prepared to bludgeon him with a stone. Perhaps I should be holding a grudge against you, for that.”

She could see that she had caught him by surprise.

“And furthermore,” She continued. “You know as well as I that, as cruel as those pranks were, Aegon was responsible for just as many as my brothers were. But we were all children .”

“Am I supposed to forgive them, is that it?” He demanded. 

“Yes!” She cried. “They are my brothers. I will not ask you to be friends with them, but if we are to marry, this fighting must cease. For your father, for the sake of our mothers, for ourselves! We cannot live with this anger, Aemond.”

She stepped forward, tilting her chin to look up at him. “I cannot live with it.”

His eye closed, and then slowly his fingers stretched out and grasped at the fabric of her sleeves. 

“You…” The words caught in his throat. “I do not think forgiveness is in my nature, not like it is for you.”

Aelinor leaned closer, her hands finding the sides of his tunic. At the first touch, his eye shot open, staring down at her with something between alarm and wonderment. 

“I will not ask you to forgive, then.” She whispered. “I can forgive for the both of us. But you must not let yourself be ruled by anger. It will destroy you.”

It will destroy us , she thought.

He nodded slowly. “I…I can try.For you.”

“That is all I ask,” She smiled. 

Aemond tentatively smiled back.

Aelinor felt some of her loneliness dissipate. “I did not like being angry at you,” she said quietly, stretching her arms up until they rested on his shoulders. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She thought she could feel his fingers tracing the small of her back.

She let out a laugh. “How ridiculous we are! We can bear nine years apart, but not one evening?”

“I could not bear it,” Aemond said seriously, his palm spreading on her back. “Not for those years, nor one evening. It if were up to me we would never be parted again.”

It was a childish, juvenile sentiment, the type of softness that others would scoff to hear. But for Aelinor, it was just the Aemond she knew and loved. 

“We never have to be,” She whispered. “We’re betrothed, after all.”

Aemond nodded slowly. “And you…you’re sure that this is what you want?”

She understood his hesitation. Whatever kindness had driven her grandfather to betrothe them, their marriage would be an intensely political one. Both of them would serve as hostages to ensure the cooperation of their families, both of them would be constantly drawn into the game as pawns to wield against the other. There was every reason to fear what this might do to them, to their families.

But there was no one in the Seven Kingdoms, nor anywhere else in the world, that Aelinor would ever want to marry as much as she wanted Aemond. He had been the most constant figure through her entire life, and she knew that she could trust him to stand at her side.

“Aemond,” She promised. “I have never wanted anything more.”

And then, in a moment of bravery or boldness, Aelinor stood on her toes and pressed her lips to Aemond’s.

For a split second she wondered if she had made a horrible mistake. His entire body stiffened, and he did not react or move. Oh gods, she had humiliated herself. 

But suddenly Aemond had both arms around her waist, pulling her into his body and kissing her back with a passion that left her lightheaded.

Aelinor had never been one to fantasize about kissing boys. It had never interested her, though perhaps that was because her most likely marriage prospect had been her older brother. But this…she could understand now why the heroines in all of her story books were always dreaming of kissing princes. 

Her head fell back, her mouth parting as Aemond’s lips moved over hers. One of her hands twisted in his hair, pulling slightly when she felt his tongue brush her lip. A tiny, embarrassing sound escaped her mouth, but it only seemed to spur Aemond on. He pushed forward until her hips were against the railing, his arms a cage from which she never wanted to escape.

“Aemond.” She whispered.

“Lina.” He replied, kissing her again. She felt one of his hands traveling to her hip, the other rising to cup her cheek. His palms were rough, callused from years of training and dragon riding, but she thought that she had never felt anything so wonderful.

Voices broke through, carrying on the wind from the garden. There was someone coming, someone who had taken their own morning stroll and likely did not expect to find the Prince and Princess locked in an embrace. They had to part before they were seen.

“There’s someone coming,” Aelinor pulled away slightly, just enough to catch her breath.

Aemond chased her, leaning down until his nose pressed against her forehead. “So?”

“So…what if we’re seen? What would your mother say? What would your brother say?”

“Fuck my brother.” Aemond grinned. “And fuck anyone else. We’re betrothed, remember?”

A smile pulled at her lips, and he dipped to kiss the corner of her mouth. “I might remember.”

“And as your betrothed it is my right — no, it is my duty, to kiss my future wife as often as she likes. And anyone who says otherwise can be a feast for Vhagar and Darrax.” 

Aelinor felt her cheeks heat. His future wife . Gods, that sounded perfect.

“How very ruthless of you,” She laughed.

“For you, anything.” He beamed, appearing lighter than she had ever seen him.

Ignoring that they were likely going to have visitors in the next few minutes, Aelinor tightened her arms around him and hugged him closely. “Thank you, Aemond.”

“You never need to thank me,” He said into her hair. “Not ever.”

“But I am grateful nonetheless.” She smiled. “Now, we really should be going before we are caught.”

Aemond relented and stepped away, but surprised her when he reached for her injured hand and clasped it in his own. When they stepped out from the secluded balcony onto the main path, they nearly ran right into Lord Beesbury and his wife. 

“My Prince!” Beesbury exclaimed. “And Princess Aelinor! What a fine morning, isn’t it?” His gaze drifted to their joined hands, and then back to the flushed expressions on their faces. “Shall I…go another way?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Aemond said, his voice hardening.

Aelinor placed hand on his arm, before offering Beesbury her most sympathetic smile. “We should hate to interrupt your walk, My Lord. We were just leaving.”

She bobbed a quick curtsy, practically forcing Aemond to bow as well, and then they excused themselves. 

“You’re very…prickly.” Aelinor noted. “Lord Beesbury is kind.”

“He interrupted us.” Aemond grumbled.

“Yes, and he was kind about it.” Aelinor said. “Now, let us go. The gardens always fill quickly.” There was little else to do in the capital, at least not for the upstanding members of court, and the weather was fair on this day. 

“How did you intend to spend your day?” Aemond asked.

Aelinor shrugged. “I believe my intention was to spend it moping. If you remember, my family is gone and I was angry at you.”

He frowned. “I thought we—”

“I’m only jesting, Aemond.” She squeezed his hand. “And I thought I may take Darrax for a ride. He has not been out since we arrived, and does not enjoy being confined.”

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, before quickly looking away.

She nudged him. “What was that?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, you must tell me!” She laughed, tugging on his arm. 

He chuckled, pretending to sag into her weight. “Very well. I was going to suggest that I could take Vhagar as well and we could go together. If that would please you.”

Already a grin was spreading across Aelinor’s face. “Now you’re the one being ridiculous. Let us hurry, I shall change into my riding clothes and meet you in the courtyard in an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be,” He promised, laughing as she picked up her skirts and hurried away.

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

This has been the best day of Aelinor’s life. She was sure that no day would ever be able to compare to the elation of soaring through the clouds on Darrax, Aemond and Vhagar flying alongside her. Both Darrax and Vhagar had behaved themselves, and Darrax had even playfully flown circles around the older dragon. If that was a sign of things to come, then it was a good sign.

But not the sun had set, and Aelinor was exhausted. It was a good type of exhaustion, the kind that made her wish to sink into her bed and collapse into a sleep of wonderful dreams. Tomorrow they could do it all again, just as they could for the rest of their lives.

Aemond walked at her side, laughing as she brushed dust from her coat. Her riding clothes were ornate, more decorative than practical, but she had always loved them. The issue was, however, that she dreaded seeing the dust and dragon reek settle into the intricately embroidered scales along the black leather.

“Don’t laugh,” She protested, though she was smiling too. “I shall have to get these laundered.”

“Then we cannot go out again tomorrow?” Aemond asked, raising his eyebrows.

Aelinor rolled her eyes. “I am a Princess, Aemond. I have more than one set of riding clothes.”

“Shame,” He sighed dramatically. “I thought to take you down to the market. There are vendors who sell candied lemons and sugar-boiled cherries, but I suppose you will miss out.”

She gasped. “Aemond! We must go!”

They were arriving at her door, and Aelinor felt a twinge of disappointment at the realization that they must now part ways. 

“Then we shall go,” Aemond promised, dipping his head. “It would be an honor to escort you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Aelinor said, coming to a stop before her chambers. She reached out and took both of his hands, her riding gloves intertwining between his fingers. “Thank you, Aemond. Today was perfect.”

“It is I who should be thanking you,” He said, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to her lips. It was chaste, so chaste that it probably would not even cause scandal if they were seen, and it left Aelinor wanting more. But Aemond was determined to be a gentleman, and so he stepped away and bowed deeply at the waist.

“My Princess,” He smiled as he rose.

Chuckling, she held out the sides of her riding jacket and bobbed a curtsy. “My Prince. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” He promised.

Aemond watched until she had shut the door behind her, and then she listened for a few moments longer until his footsteps finally moved away. 

With a girlish giggle, Aelinor spun in a circle. 

“Princess?” Her maid, Jayne, was standing in the corner of the parlor. She had one eyebrow raised, an amused smile pulling at her lips.

“Oh, Jeyne!” Aelinor exclaimed. “I have had the best day.”

“I can see that, Princess.” Jeyne laughed. “Shall I get you some dinner?”

“Oh, yes please!” Aelinor grinned. “Something light, that I can eat in the bath. I intend to go to bed early tonight, as I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“As you say, Princess.” Jeyne nodded.

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

Aemond returned to his rooms feeling like a new man. He knew his brother would mock him to hear it, but he could not help but feel as thought he had been swept into a dream. Aelinor was his . They had spent the day together, and he had basked in her beauty and perfection as he had always dreamed. 

They had kissed . He had held her in his arms and embraced her, and already he wished that he did not have to let go.

And he didn’t. Tomorrow, they would spend their day together again, as they would the next, and the next. For now, he allowed the worries of succession and the tensions between their families fall to the wayside.

He had Aelinor, after all, and so everything was perfect.

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

Aelinor reclined into a hot bath, feasting on meats and cheese until she was satisfied, and then allowed Jeyne to braid her hair before she fell into bed. Tomorrow Jeyne would move into these chambers as well, to serve as a chaperone and companion until proper alternatives could be provided. But for tonight, Aelinor simply wished her maid a good night before she closed the door behind her and returned to the servants corridors.

Then, Aelinor wrapped herself in her covers and fell into a comfortable sleep. It was the perfect end to the perfect day.

And then, sometime before the dawn, someone began to pound at her door

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 6-9)

when the group are going around thinking of moments from katniss that moved them, "love for peeta" is one of them. important because the list of things are all things where katniss was herself. her choices, her decisions, herself shining through. and loving peeta is one of them.

something so completely heart-wrenching about katniss and haymitch blaming both each other and their own selves for not saving peeta. him not rescuing peeta and her letting him out of her sight that night. it's one of my favourite moments between them, even though it is so painful. them teaming up again, to save peeta.

(an aside, how poor ill finnick can still make katniss laugh)

i cackle every time at "gale does look striking in the uniform, i guess" - katniss you were so wrong for that

just gonna go back to what i said in this post about katniss in CF thinking of gale as rebellion and peeta as the capitol's design and failing to fundamentally understand how actually her and peeta's love for each other is a driving force in the rebellion because we see it here in this chapter. the people of 8 ask about peeta, assure her that they know he was asking for a ceasefire under duress, ask about the baby, about their future. and this time katniss knows that to tell them all it was a lie now would damage "the cause." because people in the districts believe in them and their relationship. it means just as much to the people in the districts as it is entertainment for the capitol.

katniss's shock at seeing peeta damaged. she looks so intently at him. searching his face for clues and answers every time she sees him now

finnick protecting katniss and peeta. he's such a big brother

i'm guessing katniss's "unspeakable nightmares" are mostly about what's happening to peeta

she knows gale is keeping things from her. the cracks in their friendship continue to widen. the frostiness between them is a lot. katniss is actually furious with him

katniss just clutching the pearl during the night when she can't sleep. trying to hold onto the boy that drives away her nightmares

she feels so much distress and guilt over peeta. like that is so much for her to take on herself. her feeling like she's failing to protect him and racking her brains on how she could is too much

"i do feel sick. heartsick" - another instance of katniss telling us she loves peeta without saying it outright

her remembering peeta telling her when he first 'fell' for her when she sang and the birds stopped to listen (and how this makes her just like her dad) is a cute, heartbreaking little detail.

i'm gonna make a separate post about what she says about her relationship to gale in chapter 8 because oof

it's crazy that while all this is going on and while peeta is literally being tortured in the capitol, gale is like 'still waiting on an answer from you' - my guy, people are dying, peeta is suffering! now is not the time

ugh, he makes her feel so horrible.

finnick holding katniss's hand when they see peeta again. finnick is really the friend that katniss thinks gale is.

the way everyone else is cheering but katniss, finnick and haymitch are frozen in fear and pain. chosen family for real

the fact that they've clearly started hijacking peeta and it's taking effect but he is still able to break out of it to try to save her by giving her that warning. i can't. that boy fought so much for her.

peeta's cry of pain and his blood splattering on the camera lens is actually horror material. horror.

[itzgruvia]

Gruvia Week 2024

Day 6: Apathy.

type: Hurt/comfort, soft, happy ending.

characters: Gray Fullbuster/Juvia Lockser, Cana Alberona.

this fanfic is also available in AO3.

The Guild’s entrance doors were open with so much force that it almost came off from it’s hinges, the rowdy ambience was quiet down immediately once they saw the ice mage’s scowly face, not that he wasn’t grumpy all the time but he looked furious.

He looked at Cana who was drinking from her big barrel of wine, but stopped once she took the appearance of Gray who was marching to her.

“Hey, Gray” she said wearily, Cana never gets on Gray’s bad side but once she does, she prefers to avoid him as much as possible because he can be a bit hot headed.

“Is something wrong?” 

“What did you and Juvia drink in your mission?” he said sharply, crossing his arms as he looked down at her.

“Um..” she began to think and tried to connect the events of their journey yestereday.

Cana dragged her blue haired friend on a mission to find a burglar in a village, they accomplished it with no sweat and the villagers were more than happy to offer them a meal and some wine which Cana really had her fill.

 There was also a village woman who lived alone and offered to stay in her inn since no one really goes by their village, her hospitality was kind.

“I think wine?” she said hesitantly, her mind grew black after enjoying her party with the villagers.

“Be sure Cana! What did they give you in that village?!” Gray snapped, his tone was harsh and probably scared.

“I don’t remember! What’s wrong with you?” she replied, bothered by his sudden outburst; he breathed in, and pulled his black hair up with his hand.

“Gray, why don’t you tell us what’s happening first? Then we could try and solve the problem” Mirajane suggested gently, Cana nodded next to her, Gray can’t blame her for something she doesn’t know or wasn’t aware of.

Gray breathed in, and took a moment to answer.

“Juvia is not herself today” Cana’s heart dropped, did she miss something yesterday? But she was completely fine, they were talking and laughing with each other on their way to Magnolia.

“She seems emotionless, like nothing is making her happy or sad or mad” Gray continued as he sat down in the stool next to Cana, his fist tighten and his shoulders were tense.

“She doesn’t smile at all, it’s like when she was in Phantom Lord but worse” 

The guildmates were circling him now, Gajeel was frowning with concern, his arms crossed.

“There must be something she drank Cana, you have to remember.. Please” Gray pleaded, his eyes were frightened, of course he will be, Juvia is very dear to him and to see her emotionless suddenly will make him panic.

In fact, she currently feels scared for her friend’s wellbeing. So she sat straighter, her mind was still woozy with her endless drinking but she is confident she can track the events of their previous encounter.

“Okay i do remember a woman who owned an inn, she didn’t look suspicious or anything but her place was empty, we thought maybe because the village didn’t have travellers to walk by, it was very windy and we didn’t want to face a storm in our way so we got in” she explained.

Everyone was murmuring amongst themselves, it is very clear that the village woman had  something to do with it.

“Did she offer you something?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah, like two bowls of potato soup and wine, she gave me two of those big barrels but Juvia didn’t want to overdrink herself so she just gave her tea” Cana suddenly gasped, it finally made sense, the tea was the cause for her friend’s issue.

“ That bi-” 

“Let me go find something about this tea, she could have fused it with something” Levy suggested while she went rushing to the library.

“I’m coming too” Lucy added, she squeezed Gray’s shoulder as a reassurance before she left.

“ and we will find this witch and break her spine” Gajeel said, cracking his knuckles, Lily already on top of his shoulder ready to fight.

Noticing his friend’s silence, Cana put her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked. Gray sighed and closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“I can’t go with Gajeel, i have to stay with Juvia” 

“I wasn’t even asking you” Gajeel opposed him with his usual gruffness, and left without a word.

Cana rolled her eyes at his attitude.

“I have to go back home” Gray said, getting up from his seat as he sighed, he was stressed, Cana can see it in his frown, he is stressed and worried about her.

“I am coming with you” she added, abandoning her sweet alluring drink aside, which Mira’s eyes widened with surprise.

“You don’t have to” replied her friend, his gaze was understanding and tired as he looked at her. It twisted Cana’s heart, she hates seeing Gray like that, it made her guilt eat her up.

She should have known better, an old woman in an abandoned inn, what worse could happen? 

“ no i want to, it is kind of my fault anyways” she hooked her arm with his and dragged him to the doors, she didn’t want to waste her time arguing while Juvia is alone at home.

Gray smiled lightly, she can tell that he was grateful for her company, on their way out he received a couple of back pats and support, they know that Juvia will come back the way she was again.

“I’ll send you a message to your Lacirama once Levy and Lucy find something” Mira called out, and they waved back in response.

Once Cana stepped foot into their house, she felt a sense of coldness, it was an unusual feeling, Juvia and Gray’s house always had warmth even if it’s residence was an ice mage. It was unsettling.

“Juvia, I am home” Gray said their usual greetings, but it was met with silence. All Gray could do was sigh.

Once Cana was led to their living room she was shocked at the state of her friend, Juvia looked so broken, her face was blank, her mouth was hanging open slightly, and was her face paler than usual?

“ Is it just me or does her face look blue?” she asked, her eyes still locked on Juvia’s frozen posture on the coach.

“No, she does look more blue” Gray replied, her worry grew worse.

“Hey Juvia, do you remember Cana?” Gray approached her, and gently gripped her shoulder.

“She doesn’t remember us?!” she asked, and he nodded sadly, Cana was bewildered, how come a single witch affect her friend’s memory like that? 

Juvia didn’t answer.

She slowly walked over to her and bent down to her knees, she rubbed them gently, and all Juvia could do was just glance at her, emotions were long gone from her blue eyes, now she looked soulless.

Cana felt disheartened, no wonder why Gray was desperate, she felt disgusted that her friend was deprived of her own emotions..

“Don’t worry Juv, you will be alright” Cana assured, giving her a smile. There is hope for her friend, she will come back and act like she used to. 

She hopes so.

Gray wrapped his arms around her from behind the couch and put his head on top of her, caressing her arms. He didn’t care that Cana was there, nothing mattered to him anymore except for Juvia.

This all feels surreal to him, once he realised that she wasn’t moving this morning he began to panic, he thought some kind of bug crept into her head and messed with her system, she couldn’t even get up without him leading her.

Stripped from her own emotions, not even sorrow was visible in her eyes yet all Gray saw was grief.

Juvia was trapped inside a spell, and all Gray could do was wait, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything to bring his Juvia back, her enthusiasm, her smile, her love, her dramatic expressions.

It’s not fair, she worked so hard to get to where she is now, and they took that from her, they took it.

They took it.

Gray had to calm down, he could feel his anger creeping inside of him like hot boiled water, he wanted to break something, he wanted to hurt something, he wanted to kill.

Kill that witch.

But Juvia needs him the most, everything will be dealt with later, he swallowed down his feelings and breathed in the air to calm his nerves.

It took 3 hours for Lucy and Levy to dig out a clue, it turns out that the spell that made Juvia emotionless was called ‘Apathy’, once a person drinks it, he will feel like his senses are leaving him slowly.

It made Gray’s stomach churn with the idea that Juvia felt every emotion leave her mind and heart, it means that she was also scared, terrified that she could not feel anything.

It took a day to find a cure, but by the end of the day, Juvia finally had her senses back slowly, it started with fear. Juvia didn’t what’s happening to her or how it was happening, she was anxious, stressed and terrified.

It was very hard for Gray to try and comfort her every time, she always felt like something was trying to get her, his heart was broken in pieces but that didn’t stop him from being there for her.

And then sadness, and gradually she got her emotions settled and stable.

Gajeel came back after successfully ‘smashing her head with his iron fist’ which made the master question him if he really did that or if he was overreacting.

It turns out he didn’t kill her but he did knock her out.

Much to Gray’s disappointment.

“Juvia, you really don’t need to do this” 

His partner has been cooking plates of food and dishes with extra desserts, and Gray is grateful for it, he won’t deny any of her meals if only she gives herself a break from cooking everyday.

“This is the least Juvia could do because of what she did!” she refused to budge from her spot as she stirred a pot of chicken soup.

“That was not your fault” Gray sighed when she didn’t reply, hyper fixated on the pot in front of her, her ears were deaf.

He can already feel a headache coming. But he could have her screaming and yelling her love for him than having her sitting in a chair staring in the void like she was dead.

The warm hand on his arm snapped him from his circling dark thoughts, Juvia’s gaze was worried.

“Gray-sama, are you alright?” she asked.

Gray smiled warmly and brought her to his arms, she immediately reciprocated , giving him a tight hold of her own.

“Yeah, I just want you here for a while” he responded, enjoying the gentle warmth of Juvia’s body against him and living in the moment of blessing.