#because none of y'all told me these dropped

[maximura]

[dixons-sunshine]

Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.6k.

A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)

“Mr Dixon?”

At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.

Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.

Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”

“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”

Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”

“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”

Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”

“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”

Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”

“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”

“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.

Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”

“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”

By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.

“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”

Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”

It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.

“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.

Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”

“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”

“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.

“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.

“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.

The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:

“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[dduane]

Hi! I'd love to hear ur take on the whole Spirk Canon discussion going on right now as someone who's written licensed Trek books. Like besides the whole "did Unification 765874 make spirk canon" thing, is it even fair to talk about spirk being canon or not? What would it take for spirk to "be canon"? It strikes me as a very fandom-y (positive) way to interact with media, which is funny since k/s invented fandom culture. But at the same time ur Supernatural comparison was right on the money and paramount has been VERY weird about addressing their relationship in nutrek. What are ur thoughts??

First of all: Despite the excitement of any given moment, people need to be careful about mistaking anything I reblog without further-amplifying comment, on any subject, as necessarily implying agreement or approval. Lots of times I reblog things just to direct attention to them (and sometimes because I think they're funny).

"ur Supernatural comparison" was not mine. It was somebody else's. I reblogged it to direct attention to it. (And maybe I thought it was funny.)

...Also, wut iz dis "nutrek" u speak of? When you've been working in this universe for long enough, with the necessary perspective to look up and down the length of it without idiosyncratically-added heat... then all Trek is Trek. The spectrum along which its varying species all coexist is ever more complexly and interestingly braided than it once was, sure. But that's all. I've got enough on my plate at the moment not to have time to waste trying to force different aspects of Trek into cage fights with each other.

And: "Paramount"? Who is that, exactly? At the pointy end, all corporations are made up of people. Which ones are we talking about? Which production entities? Which creative teams? Which execs, working under whose supervising auspices, and when? Working with whose (character/worldview/policy) decisions, and for how long?

None of this stuff is simple to work out, and it's not helpful to try to come at it as if it's necessarily going to be easy to tease out who's doing what to whom. Briefly: it's normal for it to look weird. But don’t mistake a Big Corporate Monolith for something actually monolithic.

Also, for the moment, ffs, let's all just step away from the business of defining what K/S and/or Spirk actually involves. Enough ink and electrons have been spilled over this whole spectrum of character relationship since the 1960s, and frankly, life's too short. Definitely too short to be trying to resolve it all in terms of something that dropped...when? About this time last night, or the night before? :) Jeeeez, people. Take a breath or three and let things settle.

So I don't think anybody needs to be hearing my deep cogitations about the new short film right now... because there aren't any. No question, Unification's beautiful to look at—and I've told Dave Blass he did nice work, about which i don't think there can be any possible doubt. (Not to mention the high-end technical aspects dealt with so seamlessly in such a small tight package, which have left my jaw on the floor.) The Giacchino score's also quite lovely, but that also is more or less a given.

As for everything else: I decline to spew opinion all over the joint until I've had a chance to assimilate what I've seen, and actually acquire a useful opinion from somewhere or other. Meanwhile, y'all just keep doing what you're all doing, and I'll go make some more tea. :)

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hey! Could you write a John Marino x Reader fluff where he has a girlfriend that nobody knows about and he brings her to family skate and they being super cute and everyone has no idea who she is and he basically hard launches the relationship to everyone? Thank you!!

[ since when ] j. marino

pairing : John Marino x fem!reader

summary : John brings his girlfriend of several months to family skate before the Stadium Series game, surprising everyone

warning(s) : none ! just some tooth rotting fluff

author’s note : i am all over the place w requests so pls bear w me while i try to get them out for y'all. this is on the shorter end and prob not my best work but i hope you all like it <33

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"Are you sure?" she questions as John runs around like a crazy man to grab this things so they can leave. "I don't want to ruin family skate for you."

John stops and looks at her from the front door of the apartment. An equipment bag slung over his shoulder.

“I would love to have you there,” he replies. He drops the bag on the ground by the door and walks over to her where she stands in the hallway that leads to their room. “I love you and want you there.”

She’s still very hesitant despite his reassurance. “What if your teammates don’t like me?” she asks. “I’ve never met them. Or their wives and girlfriends.”

“They’ll love you,” he tells her. “I promise. I might throw them off by bringing you and showing you off but they’ll love you.”

Showing you off.

The one thing that John hasn’t been afraid of doing is showing her off. She’s been introduced to his non-hockey friends and his parents. All John did was brag about about beautiful and smart she was.

Today was the day she’s been excited for and dreading at the same time. She’s finally going to get introduced to his teammates. That group of guys are like John’s found family. She’s extremely nervous. There's a reason why he's waited, and she's completely understood why he's been waiting to introduce her to his teammates. They are the most important people in his life, and he wanted to make sure they were both ready for that.

“You’re sure they won’t mind if you bring me?” she asks as John pulls the beanie he had made for her. It has his number on it. “I don’t want to pull you away from your teammates.”

John smiles as soon as the beanie is secured. “I think they will be more in shock that I’m bringing my girlfriend that they didn’t know about to family skate,” he admits. “Some of them are definitely going to swarm and ask a lot of questions. They’ll be more of a pain in our asses.”

A small smile forms on her lips. “Okay,” she sighs. “I’m ready, I guess.”

“You look cute all bundled up,” John comments as he leans down and presses a kiss to her nose. “Just so you’re aware.”

Her cheeks get hot but she isn’t sure if that’s because of his compliment or because of how hot she is standing in the apartment in a puffer jacket and sweater underneath.

She opens the door so he can walk out of the apartment. John waddles down the hallway with his gear bag so they can get to the rink in time for the Devils to practice before family skate starts.

The closer they get to MetLife stadium, the more nervous she gets.

She's terrified to be introduced to a huge group of people that have no idea who she is. John hasn't told anyone about her. She's really a nobody dating an NHL player. All of the wives and girlfriends have things they do, and she feels like she does nothing even though she's attending graduate classes at NYU to get a master's in literature.

Sometimes she has no business having this kind of life.

John parks the car in the back with the rest of the players' and staffs' cars. He finds a spot that's somewhat close to the door.

An excited John looks over at her, and she's pretty sure she has a look of pure fear in her eyes with the way his face falls. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asks.

"I don't belong here," she blurts out. A weight has been lifted off her shoulders as she finally admits what's really been bothering her. "I don't ... I'm a nobody compared to everyone I'm about to meet. I'm a grad student. I don't have some cool job like everyone else does."

Her boyfriend turns in his seat and grabs her hand. "Listen to me," he tells her. "You are a smart, badass, sometimes smartass, woman that is studying for her master's." She tries to hide the smile that forms on her face at his comment. "You do belong here. You're going to be a New York Times bestseller one day and you're going to have the coolest job that anyone has ever seen. Right now though, you are the most beautiful person to walk into that building. You look good. You should feel good."

She pouts at John trying to hype her up. She swears she could cry. "I love you," she says to him after a minute. "Please don't ever leave my side though until I actually talk to someone."

John smiles at her. "Deal."

They get out of the car. She grabs her ID badge that lets her get into the building and anywhere she really wants to go tonight. John grabs her hand and they walk into MetLife together.

At first, no one notices her. John says hi to some of the staff that works with the Devils. His teammates are probably getting ready for practice.

She follows John as he turns down a hallway. There is music coming from one of the rooms and John peeks his head in. "Oh, good," he says. "No one has started getting ready yet. Families are still in the locker room." John turns his attention to his girlfriend. "You ready?"

With a heavy sigh, she nods. "Ready."

John smiles and pushes the door completely open with his shoulder. Every single head turns in their direction as soon as she's standing at his side again. Conversation dies down as the Devils realize what's happening.

"Dude," Brendan Smith says to break the silence. "Since when?"

"A few months," John admits. "Um, I'd like everyone to meet my girlfriend. Baby, this is everyone."

She gives them a little wave before she takes a small step closer to John before a couple of the wives and girlfriends whisk her away to get to know her.

When she looks back at John, several of his teammates have gathered around him to probably ask him so many questions.

She takes a liking to Erik's wife almost immediately, but also likes talking to Lazar and Toffoli's wives as well. They seem to be pros at this whole thing so she sticks with them until families can join the players on the ice. She watches practice with them and enjoys being able to see what goes on at a Devils practice that has John exhausted when he gets home.

John immediately finds her as soon as she hits the ice in her new skates that he got for her for Christmas. That was the day he asked her to come to family skate with him. She said yes, and right now, she's happy that she did.

Despite being very nervous, she feels like she's made some new friends.

He takes her hands and guides her on the ice. "Feeling any better?" he asks as they glide around, avoiding running into other people.

"A lot better," she admits. "How many questions were you asked when I was kidnapped by the wives and girlfriends?"

John laughs and laces their fingers together. "I never want to get asked again how long we've been dating," he tells her. "They all asked me probably twenty times how long we've been together and why it took me so long to introduce you to them. Jack said we 'hard launched' our relationship, whatever that means."

She smiles and wraps her arms around his torso. He looks so much taller on skates, even when she's on skates too. She still has to look up at him. "It basically means that we dropped our relationship on everyone without any hints," she explains. "You really didn't tell them that you had a girlfriend?"

"No, I did," he says. "Yesterday. Some of them didn't get that text." She laughs as John's back hits the glass. He lifts his hands and cups her face. His fingers are cold against the warm skin on her cheeks. "They all already love you. I might have hyped you up when you were taken away from me."

Her cheeks heat up even more, probably warming John's fingers at the same time. "You didn't," she sighs.

John smiles and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. "I did," he replies. "It's because I love you and you deserved to be hyped up. You were so worried, but they're all excited about the book that you're writing and can't wait to read it."

"John Marino!" she gasps as she playfully hits his gear covered chest. "No one was supposed to know about that yet. I'm still drafting it."

"I'm proud of you, baby," John softly tells her as he leans down. "You should be proud of your work too."

She smiles and wraps her arms back around his torso. "I am."

He tilts her head up and captures her lips in the softest kiss she's ever experience. Both of them smile into the kiss that follows.

They don't get too into it though because somewhere behind them is a shouting Dawson Mercer. "Get it Johnny!" His teammates join in soon after.

John groans and pulls back from the kiss. "They can't ever mind their own business," he sighs.

"They're happy for you," she giggles. "It's cute that you have a whole team that's happy for you."

He smiles and looks down at her. "Thank you for coming, by the way," he says as he pulls her along behind the net.

"That's what she said."

"I cannot stand you."

"You love me."

"I do."

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MASTERLIST

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[theoceansluvr]

Multi-Character x Nerd! Reader

warning; none except my endless yapping !! author's notes; *comically loud gulp* it's finals season so i decided to drop this before grinding my grades and whatnot😿 gave all the characters different random interests of mine sooo yay !

PERCY JACKSON- Flowers

i like to think percy is pretty neutral about flowers; not his favorite, but doesn't hate them

but when you stepped into the picture ? ALLLLL of that changed !

probably has a flower language book sitting on his bedside table just because of you to be totally fair

because of you, he buys really specific colors (or asks the Demeter cabin to grow him some) of flowers for you because of their meanings

for example, he ABSOLUTELY got you yellow tulips when he asked you out :3c

as much as he's a blue guy, he knows what they stand for (hopeless love) and thought it'd be sweet

sometimes you name a flower he knows NOTHING about like what on earth is an azalea ??

listens to you carefully regardless since he finds it cute how often you ramble about why orchids are associated with royalty

received flowers for the first time from you and he's kept them ever since, claims it's because he keeps forgetting to get rid of them but he's just a sap like that

very supportive of your interests and WILL stay up for hours to hear you talk !

ANNABETH CHASE- Astronomy

at first she thought you were talking about astrology and wasn't all that interested, but then she saw the massive amount of books you had on the stars and understood

dare i say she takes you on stargazing dates where you just point out all the constellations and all the stars we'll never see

has watched about 8 space documentaries in one week, and still isn't tired of it

also ! when ever she's drafting up home designs, she ALWAYS puts a room with a glass ceiling or balcony so you can put your telescope there

she swears it's just for the visuals but she not very good at hiding it(i love you sappy annabeth chase <9)

bought you one of those little star projectors when you guys moved into New Rome !

you guys also made paper lanterns of all the planets + pluto and hung them up on the ceiling since you rarely get to go out much one you go to college

speaking of pluto.. you guys didn't speak for three days over an argument over the basis of it being a planet or not. annabeth refuses to say it is because scientifically it's not, but you say it is because "emotionally it's a planet to me !" (real conversation i've had btw)

takes you to the planetarium whenever you guys have the spare time mainly just to see to get all animated over all the facts you've probably already told her

she absolutely adores you no matter how many times she's heard about all the dwarf planets..

CONNOR STOLL- Comics

deep in my heart he's a flash or spiderman nerd, so it's perfect !

safe to say, if you like anyone else, you guys might dispute who the best superhero is every other day- lovingly of course !

dates probably consist of walking around comic books shops and talking about your favs or reading them in your cabin

swapping off comics whenever you finish one so you can talk about them

has absolutely stolen merch for you on numerous occasions because he can he let the love of his life go without that batman mug ?

definitely makes up insane theories about what happens whenever his favorite character dies..

"no, no, no, he's gonna come back in the next one, trust me !" "con.. he literally blew up." "SO DID JASON TODD BUT HERE WE ARE"

dare i say y'all have matching spider man and gwen or batman and catwoman keychains ?

you probably got him really into young justice on accident because you mentioned him reminding you of wally west(PLS TELL ME SOMEONE SEES THE VISION-)

honestly, you guys are just nerd for nerd but he won't admit to it as easily

LEO VALDEZ- Sharks

scratch what i said about connor being nerd for nerd, you and leo are THE nerd for nerd couple !!

made you a wind up shark toy as a gift because he was bored, and it was basically a marriage proposal to you

has definitely fallen asleep to you talking about sharks before ! not out of boredom, just because he likes your voice

moving on ! y'all know those cardboard sharks people were making ? well, he made you a metal version of your favorite shark !

takes you to aquariums whenever he can, which is rare, but he thrives off of hearing you get excited.. like a kid in a candy store

he also has a crazy supply of gummy sharks in the bunker now for whenever you come over

he has also made you shark shaped string lights because why would he ever let you buy anything ?!

let's you cover his well, everything with shark stickers ! workbench ? sure ! festus ? might protests, but if festus like it, alright !

you told him he'd be a hammerhead shark, and he now has a keychain of one on his belt loop at all times

he rambles to you about mechanics, so in turn you talk about sharks; it's a win-win situation :3c

YAYYYYY PSOTING AGAIN AND IT'S ABOUT MY INTERESTS !!!! this was actually in the drafts for a minute and WAS supposed to drop saturday but i got impatient- love y'all and uhh see you after finals !

[sectumsempraaa]

Cheat Sheet

Pairing: Draco x fem/Slytherin reader

Summary: You and Draco have always been especially good friends to each other, and this time is no different. But when you step in to save him in potions class, you both start to realize that maybe, it is.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: None, mostly fluff, some cursing and kissing

Behold, my second fic! Let me know if y'all want a part 2 for this one or my first fic, And Now I Do. Thanks for being so sweet and supportive, y'all are the best :)

If you watch HOTD, you'll enjoy a quote I pulled from a recent monologue 🐉

“Sssshh, ssshh, it’s okay.” You say calmly to the first year Slytherin crying in your arms. “I get homesick, too. But soon you will make great friends here who will feel like family. I promise.” The young boy pulls back, eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears, which bled onto your shirt, but you don’t mind. You’ve been an older sister all your life, anyways. 

Draco had been made a Prefect this year and advanced his position on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Tonight, their captain has them practicing until nearly midnight. A bit excessive to you, but the Championship tournament against Ravenclaw is coming up and they’re hungry for victory. 

Because he’s always been able to rely on you, and your generally brilliant standing in your year, he’s asked you to take over his Prefect responsibilities for the night. This really only means keeping an eye out for students after curfew and tending to any notable incidents. You like to poke fun at Draco sometimes, calling him “the Slytherin-sitter.” This job couldn’t be easier for you.

“Can you walk me back to my dorm?” he asks through gasping sobs. You feel for the kid, remembering back to when you first started at Hogwarts and were nearly shaking on the train ride over. As if that wasn’t enough, you got sorted into the world’s most hated house. But eventually, you found your group when you beat the infamous Harry Potter in a wand duel in second year in front of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You remember turning back to your house and seeing your four new favorite smirks: Draco, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise.

You wonder how Draco would have handled this boy’s breakdown. What is Draco like around kids? It’s hard for you to imagine Draco being sensitive to a first year’s emotional needs. Your only frame of reference is when you ended up in the hospital wing in third year when you and Pansy thought it would be fun to try a fire spell on the Whomping Willow. Needless to say, it backfired… badly. But you remember Draco’s bedside manner when he visited you in the infirmary. You remember him being impossibly gentle when helping you stand up, laughing to tears with you when you told him what happened, and sneaking you some of your favorite desserts from the Great Hall. Ultimately, you’ve always been there for each other.

After you drop the student off at his dorm, you scribble some notes on the incident to have on record and spend a few minutes reading on your favorite couch in the common room. Around 1AM the door opens and Draco steps through, absolutely covered in sweat, cheeks blotchy and hair soaking wet. You jump off the couch and meet him halfway through the room, grabbing his broomstick for him and leaning it up against a table. Despite still catching his breath, he manages to speak, placing a hand on your shoulder first. For balance or for affection, you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you so much for covering tonight. Anyone give you trouble?” He asks you with genuine concern.

“Let’s not worry about my completely uneventful night and instead get you out of this uniform.”

He smirks and you drop your head, immediately regretting your statement.

“Now now darling, I know you’re eager, but I’ve worked out well enough for tonight.” He replies to you with a cocky tone, winking at you just before you scoff and hit his shoulder. You turn to walk back to your dorm, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him. His demeanor shifts, eyes like ice looking down to meet yours.

“Really, thank you. I have a lot on my plate right now and you’re the only one in our band of idiots I can rely on.” He says, and you swear you can see a soft smile forming while he talks. His delicate grip on your arm and the sincereness in his voice are all you can focus on. You notice how the chill of his ring against your skin contrasts with the heat radiating off him. There it is again, that compassionate side peeking out from behind his hardened exterior; temporarily abandoning the Slytherin king for Prince Charming. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You’re fully aware you’re batting your eyelashes up at him, but you can’t help it. You feel special seeing this part of him he normally hides from others.

“Consider yourself the least idiotic of us.” He says, and you feel his thumb graze over your wrist. You think to yourself, we’ve never stood this close before. The two of you laugh and drink in this moment for another few seconds. When you both turn towards the dorms, you relay the incident with the crying boy and just like that, the classic Malfoy everyone knows shifts back, his exhaustion making it hard to keep up the act.

“Better you than me. Can’t stand it when they cry. Insolent pups.” He scowls. You roll your eyes and sigh as you lean on the threshold of your dorm room.

“Such a mother hen.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You know he likes it when you challenge him. Not many people would. 

“You know, now that I think about it, I can recall you crying on multiple occasions in first year, not excluding the time you lost that fight against-” He cuts you off, swiftly closing the door to his room. But that doesn’t suppress the sound of the laugh he lets out on the other side.

You smile, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself.

“Insolent pup.”

—

The next day, you’re in Potions class and it is glaringly apparent from the moment you sit down that Snape is in a terrible mood. Typical. You’re used to this but it doesn’t make life any easier. An angry Snape is usually accompanied by some random and unnecessary punishment.

He remains silent for a minute while staring down the class, scanning the room with eyes like daggers. Draco stumbles in the door, noticeably disoriented. You practically feel the relief emanating from him when he sees the empty seat next to you. He drops into the seat like dead weight, rubbing his bloodshot eyes that are wrapped in gray circles.

“Hey, you okay?” You whisper to him, not daring to stand out amongst the quiet class. When he doesn’t respond, or even so much as look at you, you reach to place a hand on his back.

“Draco.” He lazily turns his head towards you, finally getting his attention.

“What can I do?” You ask. Your heart sinks a little looking at your friend who is physically drained beyond repair. Moving your hand in circles on his back, you reach over to take his robe off for him, laying it on top of yours on the bench in between you. He doesn’t utter a word but you know he barely slept last night, if at all. With quidditch practice going so late and his attempt to catch up on homework until the sun reappeared, he was doomed today.

You look past Draco towards Theo, sitting at the table diagonal to yours. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, as if to warn you. Just as your gaze trails back to Draco, Snape’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

“I would like to assume you all completed the assigned chapter twelve reading this week.” He grimaces. No one is brave enough to speak up, not even Hermione Granger.

“But that would be foolish. However, I will know whether you read the material or not when I ask each pair to come up here and create a Sleeping Draught potion.” He drags on.

“...successfully.”

The class releases a collective chorus of groans and gasps, some frantically looking around for help, others using every ounce of concentration to remember the ingredients from the chapter. Your studious nature and vivid memory serve you well as you start to mentally list the instructions. Recalling Snape’s demand in your head, you repeat the words out loud.

“Each pair.” You whisper. Without giving any thought to it, you instinctively grab Draco’s hand and dip your quill in ink, lowering it to his palm that you’ve rested on your thigh. You don’t have time to notice the layer of visible panic etched on his face.

“Sorry if this hurts, hun.” You say while looking down at his hand, keeping your touch light as a feather. You’re too concentrated to acknowledge the nickname you used, but he notes it with a subtle glance.

Biting your lip, you try to make the instructions as legible as possible on his skin. Meanwhile, Draco doesn’t ask a single question, just completely submitting to you taking control. His eyes scan over your face in awe, eyelids hanging heavy, as he mentally catches up to the present moment. Here you are, saving his ass once again.

“How come?” His whisper takes you by surprise considering his defeated state.

“How come what?”

“It’s always you. How come it’s always you?” His voice is rough from fatigue, but not enough to hide the sliver of his sweeter, softer side that seems to be creeping back out of its cage again.

“Malfoy and Y/L/N, such exemplary Slytherins.” Snape remarks. ”You will go first.”

Swallowing the tension in your throat, you nod reassuringly to Draco before lifting you both to your feet, cautiously walking up to the front of the class. When you reach the table, you take in the sight of dozens of ingredients before you. The six you need stand out to you immediately, but you aren’t so sure about your partner. Truthfully, your end goal was to make it through this excruciatingly public test without him collapsing. It will be a miracle if he even remembers the answers are literally written on him.

You choose a few ingredients and nudge an elbow to Draco’s side, urging him to participate. He remains still, only turning his head towards you. You see a weakness in his eyes that breaks your heart, that makes you want to hold him in your arms, but you snap yourself back to reality. You know you have to do something. Before he can give up, you open your mouth and let the words fall out with confidence. Your voice slices through the stillness of the room, creating a sea of surprised looks. But you keep your piercing eyes directly on his.

“Lucky for you, Severus, we know this one like the back of our hand.” Your smug tone earned a hushed grumble of laughter from the class. Draco’s eyes widen with pride and realization, darting back down to his hand, gracefully hiding the cheat-sheet you inscribed on it. Your heart swells as he correctly reaches for the lavender, wormwood, and valerian sprigs.

From there, you take turns adding and mixing the components. The two of you find a rhythm and work seemingly in sync with each other. Skillfully glancing down to your discreet notes, he returns your elbow nudge from earlier while smiling down at the finished product as if to say, “Look, we did it.”

You turn to your professor and are instantly met with a cold, stoic death stare. Your heart jumps.

“10 points for the potion, 5 taken for addressing me by my first name, which you will never… utter… again… Miss Y/L/N.” He sneers.

You both nod and make your way back to your desk, taking a deep breath and finally relaxing. As the next pair hesitantly rise from their seats, you turn to each other in your seats and nearly burst out laughing immediately upon making eye contact, the both of you covering your mouths like little kids. Trying to suppress his outburst, he grasps your hand, intertwining your fingers. You’re both squeezing with enough pressure that some of the ink on his palm imprints onto yours.

Finding some energy, Draco pulls your hand towards him and reaches for his quill. He starts to reciprocate your earlier gesture, gently writing on your palm, though the writing is a little less… neat. You read the words etched messily on your skin. So, how come?

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the moment forces you to confront the feelings you’ve developed for him. He hasn’t completely let go of your hand yet, letting his fingertips linger on yours. Still committing to the dead silence of the room, you pull his hand back towards you once again, continuing your strange and intimate game of tug-of-war. Lifting his hand to your face, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. Your confidence from the stunt you pulled starts to wither away, an abundance of nerves catching up as Draco’s hand suddenly releases from yours. Panic floods your body. 

Fuck.

But he doesn’t let it drop. No, instead, he reaches to cup your cheek, his other hand propping his head up on the desk. Your heart flutters as you relish the feel of his affectionate, gentle touch, his fingers just barely grazing your hair. There it is again. Prince Charming.

He lowers his hand and grins, pointing to the spot where the ink from his hand rubbed off on your cheek. He takes out his wand and whispers a spell to clear it, removing the evidence. He takes your hand in his again and rests them on his lap. He closes his eyes and drifts off, never letting his grip falter.

And that’s how you spent the rest of the potions class.

—

Heading back from dinner in the Great Hall that night, you spot Draco sitting on the stairs that lead down to the dungeons. You break away from the crowd, telling them you’ll catch up in a minute. You take a seat on the stair below his, facing him while resting your hands on his knee.

“I keep replaying the image of you calling him Severus in my head. There isn’t even a Gryffindor out there that could match your bravery.” He says, looking down at you with pure adoration.

“Well, I had to act quickly considering my partner was barely conscious. You were about to go down and I wasn’t going with you.”

He laughs shyly and rests a hand on top of yours.

“I got you something,” you say as you reach down to your robe pocket. In your fingers is a tiny vial of potion with a small bit of parchment tied to it with purple string, displaying his name. “It’s a bit of the very successful Sleeping Draught we made. I snuck some while you were mixing. You were a bit too… out of it to notice.”

You drop it into the palm of his hand, watching the grin on his face grow wider at the sight of the gift.

“We have a three day weekend starting tomorrow and you are going to take that and sleep through the whole thing.” You demand.

He remains quiet for a moment before moving himself down to the stair you’re sitting on, turning his body to face yours.

“To say I owe you is an understatement. I can’t possibly ever repay you.” He stores the vial in his pocket and looks back up to you.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Draco. I’m not doing you a favor. I’m just looking out for you.”

“But that’s just it, love. I rarely ever ask for your help, and yet you’re here… all the time.” His words slow their pace as he inches closer to your face, gazing down between your eyes and your lips.

You shrug with a small smile, giving him a look you know will melt his heart.

“Guess that’s what makes me such an ‘exemplary Slytherin.’” You smirk, referencing the title Snape had called you from class. And that does it for him.

He takes your head in his hands, cradling your face for a moment. He scans you over, like he’s taking a mental picture, examining your every feature. Within seconds, he’s pulling your face to him, claiming your lips with his. This isn’t a tender kiss, this kiss is everything. This kiss holds years worth of longing and laughter and gratitude. His lips move against yours slowly with no intention of breaking anytime soon. You feel your heart explode, a million little butterflies bursting from it. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He feels you smile against him, which he sends right back to you.

You feel his mouth open slightly between kisses and take the opportunity to slide your tongue in his mouth, earning a soft, satisfying groan from him. The vibration from his voice sends chills down your body, and you savor every second of it. Your tongues and lips dance with each other with hunger, claiming each other’s territory as your own. The soft texture of his lips, the rough movement of his mouth… It's almost too much. You want to get closer to him. You have to be closer to him.

You break the kiss for a second, lifting yourself up to land on his lap. As you settle down on his thighs, you run your fingers through his hair and catch glimmers of light and lust in his eyes as he continues to fall for you. Straddling him, you feel his hands immediately grabbing your ass, pushing your chest against his and crashing your lips together once again. Your arms wrap around his neck as he swallows the moan you let escape your throat. The bond between you feels electric, every thought in your head replaced by tiny, vivid sparks.

In the midst of your embrace, he detaches your lips momentarily, catching you by surprise. He maintains the intimacy, leaning his forehead on yours and nudging your nose with his.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?” He jokes and you can feel his hands move up to your waist, tightening their grip as if you’d ever try to leave.

“And I’m the eager one?” You scoff at him playfully. With your eyes so close to his, you can sense the depletion in them. That heavy-hearted feeling you experienced earlier, just when you thought he was about to give up, rises in your chest again.

“Let’s get you to bed before we get stupid and you fall apart.” You comfort him, kissing one cheek and then the other. You feel him sigh, knowing you’re right. He doesn’t have it in him to argue otherwise right now.

“Sorry, love.” He says modestly under his breath, the words laced with shame. “Promise me we can get stupid when I feel like a living person again.”

“You said it yourself, Draco. I’m here all the time. I’ll be there when you fall asleep and I’ll be ready,” you break mid-sentence to kiss him once more with vigor. You send the rest of the thought into his mouth, your voice drenched with desire.

“...when you wake up.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[holdmytesseract]

Illusions

°☆• Dream or Nightmare? (Part 2) •☆°

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: When the TVA throws Loki on a journey through his past and future, it turns out to be a cruel rollercoaster ride for the god...

Warnings: angst & sadness, tiny bit fluff, a smol suggestive scene, angst, bit of pregnancy stuff, oh and did I mention angst?

Let me know if I forgot something!

Word Count: 4,1k

a/n: Well... I listened to music - those two songs to be exactly...

... and they inspired me to write this. I am already apologising, because... It's quite sad and angsty. 👀 Or to say it in Mika's words: 'This is the hardest story that I've ever told' - perhaps.

I hope y'all like it! 💚

Tagging: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @chennqingg @jennyggggrrr @theaudacitytowrite @alexakeyloveloki @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @valencia-rou @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The grip of the Minutemen tightened painfully around Loki's arms, as the god tried to break free from their grasp - in vain. He didn't stand a chance against four of them; dragging him down one of the seemingly endless corridors of the TVA.

"Where are they taking me?!" Loki screamed over his shoulder, trying to reach the man in the brown suit with grey-blonde hair and moustache. "Mobius, where are you taking me!" The god received no answer. Not even as the Minutemen hauled him into a big room. It looked familiar, yet different.

While Loki still struggled against the men's harsh grip, he saw Mobius tapping away on his TemPad - until a well known orange 'door' opened. The TVA agent nodded at the Minutemen, who started to move once more - straight towards the portal. "Mobius! Please!" Again, no answer; causing Loki's patience to wear thin. "I demand to know what this is!"

Shortly before the god's body could touch the orange barrier, they stopped - and Mobius appeared in Loki's field of view. "That happens when you break a friend's trust, Loki," he said; stepping closer. His face was stern, but his eyes were filled with a mixture of disappointment and hurt. "I don't want to do this, but you leave me no other choice."

With those words and a last gaze at the 'variant', Mobius turned around and walked away. Loki's jaw dropped. "Mobius! Mobius! Wait! You know the truth! Nothing here is real! You are a mere puppet on a string and you know it! Please!" Loki's plead fell on deaf ears. Again. And before he could say another word, the Minutemen pushed him through the portal.

Loki stumbled; the force of the unmerciful shove took him down. He landed on his knees - already waiting for the incoming pain of the impact; but there was none. At least no strong pain. He had landed rather softly. Nevertheless, slipped a soft groan past the god's lips as he straightened his back; raven curls whipping through the air. Loki looked around; scanning his surroundings - eyes widened instantly.

Underneath his knees was green grass. The air smelt deliciously of a trillion different flowers. A soft breeze rustled the trees nearby, and the moon stood high in the night sky; shining down on him and illuminating the world around him - just like the countless fireflies. He didn't even have to look further to know where he was...

Home.

He was in Asgard, and that was clearly his mother's garden. Why would Mobius send me here? Loki frowned; was confused. Slowly, he got up; brought himself back on his feet. His rather ragged and worn out TVA suit was looking even dirtier now; the green stains of the grass on his knees adding to the demolition.

Everything was quiet. Perhaps too quiet. But that was the last thing Loki cared about, honestly... "Mobius!" He called out once again. "What is this foolery?! Why did you take me home?! Is this real?! What-" The god cut off his own sentence as he suddenly heard something. Laughter... Child's laughter. It was getting closer and closer - until... A young boy with green robes and short black hair ran past him, followed by a young girl in a beautifully bright blue dress; her hair billowing in the wind. They were clearly chasing each other; running light-hearted through Frigga's garden.

Loki watched for a few seconds, before it hit him; eyes widening to the size of plates. His breath hitched in his throat as the two children came running straight towards him; his eyes settling on the little girl's face.

"Y/N..."

Loki breathed out your name; eyes still stuck on your youthful self. It send a jolt through his whole body - and especially through his heart. He remembered. This very night. Your parents and Loki's parents had to speak to the high council - and since your father was Odin's advisor, he needed to join. Frigga had sent you up to Loki's room in order to play, but the two of you chose to go outside instead. He remembered... Every second.

The laughter echoed in his ears as you and his younger self ran straight through him as if he was nothing but a mere projection. "What-" But before Loki could think further about it, the world suddenly started to spin around him. Faster and faster and faster. It took the god to the ground with a loud scream.

Like a few minutes ago, Loki landed soft. This time, though, it wasn't grass... He looked beneath himself. It was straw. Still a bit dizzy from whatever just had happened to him, he shook his head gently and brushed a few loose raven curls out of his face. Chest heaving with the deep breaths he took, he looked up - and immediately recognised this place as well... The royal stables.

"What... What is happening here? What is this?" Loki asked, but of course nobody answered his question.

Then he heard steps. Quick steps - and only a few seconds later, you appeared in the huge door frame of the stable. Now though, you weren't a child anymore. You had grown into a young woman. His heart skipped another beat at the sight of you.

Loki witnessed how you quickly ran barefoot into the stable and hid yourself behind against the wall beside the door; giggling. The next thing he noticed was a voice. His voice.

"Y/N? Y/N! Where did you go?!"

You giggled again; rolling your eyes with a smile. "Come find me, Lokes!" You called out - and Loki remembered. It was again something he had experienced. Years and years ago, of course; in his youth - but nevertheless...

Steps were heard again as a younger Loki, dressed in his armour ran around the corner. Before he could pass you by, you jumped out of your hiding place; straight into the god's arms. He was caught by surprise of course, but then a joyful laugh left his lips, before his palms found your hips and he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

Loki was still standing in the middle of the straw like frozen; watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. His nerve ends tingled; butterflies running wild inside his belly and by the Norns, he could swear that he still felt your lips on his. How soft and kissable they were. You had been his best friend, but on that very day, you had become his lover. His princess.

Loki wanted to relive this wonderful moment in his life longer, but then he felt again that pull and the stable started to spin around him - just as he witnessed how you and him stumbled backwards into the pile of straw; lips still entangled.

"No, no, no, not agaiiiiin!"

Loki felt like falling, before he landed with a thud on a soft but also not soft underground. The smell of pine, moss and earth hit him the second Loki reopened his eyes. Different trees and plants were everywhere around him - but they were painted black. It was dark outside. Again. Looks like the Asgardian forest, the god thought; running a hand through his hair. I must be in the woods.

Loki looked around; eyes searching for you, and after taking a few steps, he found you - and himself. This time, he dared to step closer, giving the fact that he couldn’t be seen anyway. Twigs snapped underneath his feet as he approached you.

You and Loki were on a small glade; a picnic blanket keeping your clothes from getting dirty. You had an arm underneath your neck to support your head - just like Loki, while your free hand was intertwined with his. Both of you were gazing into the night sky; pointing at different stars.

Loki came to stand directly beside you and himself; watching. He swallowed hard; knew exactly where the TVA had taken him. The god had figured out quickly that he was obviously 'travelling' through his memories. And that 'journey' or by Odin's sake whatever this was seemed to have one thing in common... You. No wonder, though. You had always been the key element in Loki's life. You were the one who kept him grounded. His anchor in the raging storms he had to face. Be it his father, brother, Warriors Three or heritage. You had been always there for him, until... Well, until Thanos and New York happened. He always wanted to find his way back to you, but then the TVA ripped him out of his timeline.

Loki swallowed hard in order to suppress the upcoming tears in his eyes; the full force of the realisation hitting him, that he was probably never ever going to see you again. Feel you again. Taste you again. His heart yearned for you - more than ever now, and all he wanted was to go back.

The god got ripped out of his thoughts, as he watched it happen before him. He had been so nervous back then. Afraid of rejection.

"Y/N, I... I know that this might come out of the blue and way too soon, but... I-I can't wait any longer. I-I want to finally make you entirely mine. I can't imagine a life without you anymore. I need you. My heart needs you. It belongs to you already anyway, so..." Loki reached in the pocket of his trousers. With a shaky hand he presented a silvery ring, which was literally shining in the pale blue moonlight. You gasped; hands flying up to cover your mouth, "Would you do me the honour and become my wife?" and then tears started to fall quickly. "N-Norns, L-Loki, I-" You had to take a deep breath to calm your racing heart - something Loki misinterpreted slightly. Fear struck him. "I-I know I can't afford you what my brother could. No title of being Asgard's queen. No throne. No-" You immediately interrupted him with your lips on his.

"Loki, stop that nonsense right now. I don't want Thor. I never did. And I definitely don't need or want the throne or being called the queen. All I need..." You cupped his chiselled cheek; gazing deeply into his blue eyes. "... is you, my prince. Always have been. Always will be. I love you. So, yes. Yes. I want to marry you."

A relieved, light-hearted laugh escaped his lips, before he smiled brightly and slipped the ring on your finger.

Loki, who still stood on the sideline, watching, found himself smiling. He loved that memory; held it close to his heart. It was such a special day for him - and you.

Before he could reminisce for too long, he got pulled out again. This time, though, the world faded entirely to black around him...

Once Loki woke up and slowly came to his senses, he felt pain shoot through his whole body. Perhaps because he had landed full force on a stony underground - unlike before. Nevertheless, he quickly felt a change. Something was different. It was not like the last three times.

Groaning, the god lifted himself off the ground - and immediately recognised what exactly had changed. He was still on Asgard; on the balcony of his chambers, to be exactly, but... He frowned, as he saw you standing underneath the sinking sun; gazing aimlessly into distance with the engagement ring he had given you twinkling in the red-orange rays. He couldn't remember. This time, he couldn't remember. Even though he tried hard to. This was not one of his memories...

Loki stepped closer towards you; eyes never leaving your frame. You were sad. He could tell. Not just because at the look on your face. He could feel it.

Silent tears were running down your cheeks, causing Loki's heart to cry out in pain. He had always hated to see you cry. That hadn't changed. It never would. "Y/N..." Loki whispered. "What is wrong, my love?" You didn't answer; just kept on crying quietly. He wanted to speak up again - but you spoke first.

"Oh Loki..." You cried softly; wiping away some stray tears. "Where are you?" You asked; gaze still directed up into the sky. "I hope you find your way back to me, my beloved... Someday..." His eyes widened; and he immediately started to run the last few meters separating you from him. Loki wanted to comfort you; wrap you up in his arms and wipe away your tears - but he never reached you. His feet stuck suddenly to the ground, as the world slowly started to spin around him. "No, no, no..." Loki mumbled in slight panic; desperately trying to free himself - but his feet wouldn't budge. It was almost like they suddenly acted on their own will.

"Y/N!"

He decided to use his voice instead. "Y/N! I'm here! I'm right here, darling!" Loki reached out his hand - but it was too late. Darkness overcame him as got sucked in the next dark hole, before he got spit out somewhere else.

The ground beneath him was familiar. As if he had been here before - and he was. Loki felt the soft grass of the royal gardens underneath his fingertips, as he heaved his tired body off the grassy ground.

Yes, he was right back to where he was in the beginning - but this time, his mother's garden looked different. Everything was beautifully decorated. Countless white chairs were lined up in front of him; each of them looking neat and elegantly - just like the people sitting on them. White rose petals were everywhere. It was beautiful. The god swallowed hard. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly that he must've landed at a wedding. His gaze drifted to the archway at the end of the passageway; formed by the chairs. It was as well beautifully decorated with white curtains and roses. And underneath the archway... Loki's heart stopped to beat for a moment.

It was you.

You were standing there, wearing the most beautiful wedding dress he had ever seen. Your hair was braided into a stunning plait; speckled with daisies. His heart skipped another beat; pumping pure love through his veins.

But the problem was the same. He couldn’t remember. This never happened. He never had the chance to finally marry-

Loki couldn't believe his eyes. All the people on the chairs, his family standing beside the archway, you... Suddenly everybody turned to face him. Suddenly, every pair of eyes was on him; leaving the god even more confused. Can they see me? Can she see me? Is this real?

Loki felt how the emotions got stuck in his throat. This moment... He had waited for this to happen such a long time. And all of a sudden, it was within reach.

Tears clouded his eyes, as he found himself running again towards you - towards his future; towards everything he ever desired and wanted.

This time, he actually managed to reach you - and for a moment, Loki believed that this was truly happening. That he was going to finally marry you right here, right now. You stretched out your arm towards him. Loki breathed out a teary laugh; reaching for you. He wanted to take your smaller hand into his bigger one; feeling your warm, soft skin finally against his - but he couldn't. His hand just slipped through yours, as if you were a ghost. He tried again - with the same result.

"Take my hand. Come on, Lokes..." You suddenly spoke up; smiling brightly. Your bright Y/E/C eyes were literally shining. "What are you waiting for?"

Loki felt like crying. His happiness washed away like sand on a beach - within a few seconds.

Frantically, he tried to reach for you again. "I-I want to, my love! I want to, b-but... I can't... I-" Loki's body froze once more; signalling him exactly what was about to happen. "No! Please!" He was powerless. He couldn't do anything against it as he got pulled away from you - again.

Another familiar setting, but no familiar memory. It felt like everything happened faster and faster; draining his physical and emotional energy. Whatever this was... Whatever Mobius had thrown him into... It was cruel. Torture.

Loki's body hit the very soft ground with a thud. It was softer than ever before. His palms glided over the surface; realising that he had landed undoubtedly on his bed - and the furniture around him belonged to his chambers.

He would've loved to just stay there and close his eyes to make it all stop, but when he heard the sound of bare feet touching the floor, he got up. Loki's head turned to follow the steps and when his eyes found you, did they widen immediately.

You were standing in the doorway; leading towards his bathing chambers. Nothing but a flimsy satin robe covered your body - which glided off your shoulders and fell to the floor, just in the moment when Loki's eyes settled on you.

The god swallowed hard; jaw slacking. You wore nothing underneath. He just stared. Stared at the holy temple which was your body. Memories flooded his head of endless nights (and days) he spent with you beneath the sheets; worshipping this temple - like you deserved. Like the goddess you were. It shot a warm feeling throughout his whole body; nerve ends tingling with desire - but it also left another gaping hole in his already bruised and battered heart.

He'd be never able to touch you again. To feel your beautiful curves underneath his fingertips; to touch your warm skin with his lips and kiss every square inch of your body.

"Are you finally joining me, my prince?" The sound of your angelic voice grabbed his attention; eyes focusing on your face - which was directed at him now. You were looking over your shoulder; hands working on freeing your hair from the plait.

"Time to consummate our marriage, husband."

It was the last thing you said, before you vanished inside the god's bathing chambers. Loki's feet and hands twitched. He desperately wanted to rip his clothes off his body and follow you, but he wasn't even able to finish that thought.

Darkness swallowed him whole once more.

Loki found himself kneeling on the stony surface of his balcony once again; exhausted. He couldn't take this anymore. His heart couldn't take this anymore. He just wanted it to stop. Unless he was going to break - and little did he know that what was coming now really did break him. The straw that broke the camel's back.

Sure, Loki could've just kept his eyes glued to the ground and not look up, in order to spare himself some pain - but being the fool in love he was, he couldn't. No matter how much it hurt... Seeing you was just too tempting. So, he somehow managed to stand on both feet again and looked up.

You were leaning against the beautifully crafted railing. You hair was flying in the warm summer breeze. You were clearly enjoying the warm rays of sunshine on your face and the naked skin which wasn't wrapped in the beautiful emerald green dress you were wearing.

A goddess. You looked like a goddess.

Loki's eyes wandered over your body - but suddenly froze in place. He felt his heart drop for the millionth time; but this time it shattered into a trillion pieces. The god's knees buckled; legs almost giving in. Pregnant. You were visibly pregnant. There was no doubt - and with the next blink of his eyes, the tears started to mercilessly fall; wetting his ragged shirt.

"N-No, please... Please..." He didn't even know what he was begging for. For his eyes to betray him? For this to end? For you to finally be able to notice him? For the illusion to fall?

The smile on your face was brighter than the sun itself, as you ran your palms absent-mindedly over your swollen stomach - until it dropped and your eyes widened for a moment; looking shocked. Loki's heart was jumping over the cliff alongside your smile - but then you breathed out a laugh.

"Loki, I... I can feel her!" Her? "She's kicking! Come, feel!"

Your words caused even more tears to roll down the god's cheeks, as he began to shake his head. "I-I can't, Y/N, I-I can't..." Loki whispered; voice filled with despair and sadness.

But you couldn't hear him - and perhaps didn't even see him. That hadn't changed. But it didn't stop you from doing something you hadn't done the last three times the TVA had tortured him with your presence. You walked over to Loki; stopping mere inches in front of him. To feel you so close almost caused his heart to explode. He inhaled a shaky breath; swearing that he was able to smell you.

"Feel, my love," you repeated - and without blinking grabbed his hand to press it against the side of your stomach. Loki gasped; his whole body shivering. Your warm, clothed skin suddenly on his; the soft fabric of the dress underneath his fingertips; the clearly noticeable kicks against his palm. It was overwhelming. So overwhelming, he didn't even question why you were able to actually touch him.

It was a small moment of bliss, before he broke entirely...

In this moment of bliss and blinding love, he wanted to reach for your hand and bury his head against your baby bump to feel more - but like before, he couldn't. His hand slipped through yours, as if he was trying to capture air. This realisation dragged him back down to earth, reminding him that this was nothing but a cruel game the TVA played. It wasn't real.

Loki broke. His legs gave in as he sunk to his knees; palm slipping from your body. His vision went blurry.

"Mobius, please... D-Don't do this to me, please... I can't anymore. I can't. I-I know this isn't real. I know it isn't. Please stop it. I can't have that w-with her - I-I never will. She is n-not truly here. Please. Have mercy. I can't take this any longer." He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. It was all too much.

All of a sudden, everything got quiet around him. All Loki could hear were his own muffled cries and sobs. The god had curled himself up into a ball - nothing more than a picture of misery.

He didn't know how long he was half kneeling, half laying on the cold ground. Perhaps only a few seconds; perhaps a few hours - but at some point he could hear quiet steps approaching. Brown dress shoes came into his field of few. Definitely not you.

"Loki, I... I didn't know, I... I am sorry." A soft, familiar voice urged to Loki's ears. "I didn't know that Ravonna would send you through this..." Mobius.

The god lifted his head; looked straight into the sorrowful, compassionate face of his 'friend'. The agent offered him his hand, which Loki took to lift his exhausted body off the ground. "W-What... What was that? Torture, I assume." The man opposite him swallowed visibly. "It... It was a glimpse into the future, but also an illusion." Loki's eyebrows slanted into a frown, causing Mobius to explain further.

"What you saw was everything that happened... and could've happened."

Now he understood; a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You showed me something I'd die for to have but never could. She's out of reach - and she'll forever be. Just like what you showed me. Am I right?" Mobius swallowed again; didn't dare to say something. So, he just nodded carefully.

Loki's heart broke all over again; another bitter laugh finding its way past his lips. It truly hurt Mobius to see him this way.

"I am sorry. I didn't know that Y/N-" The god shook his head, interrupting him immediately. "Don't. Just stop, please."

Defeated, the TVA agent nodded.

A few beats of silence passed, before a small whirring sound announced the opening of a portal. "Come on. Let's get you out of here and talk, huh?" Loki nodded; wordlessly following Mobius.

There was no point in arguing or stepping up against him. Loki's glorious purpose was gone. He had lost - everything which ever meant something to him. His brother. His mother. His life. But especially, he had lost you - and the life he could've had with you. Love. A happy marriage. A child. Everything was gone within the blink of an eye; and only now did he realise, that he already had lost all of it the second he made that one wrong step which got him here.

There was no point in fighting anymore. He had nothing left to fight for. All that was left, was a gaping hole in his broken heart.

No hope. No love. No happy ending.

[hogwartsstudentconfidential]

Welcome back to your favorite paper ever ;)

First off I wanted to wish everyone a very happy holidays seeing as they are coming up very fast.

Second of all I wanted to issue a warning because this party last weekend seemed to have stirred up a lotttt of drama.

And third of all, can someone tell me how Professor Binns is still teaching here? It's absolutely ridiculous. Not a single student can stay awake in that mans class.

Anywho as always here are our updates and informative section for the week.

Professor McGonagall has assigned a major project due before the holidays so pair up or swear up because if it's not done you're probably failing the year and nobody wants that. So pick your partners wisely and submit your mood boards that you think suit yourselves by the end of next week.

Here are some things that your mood boards should include: What you want to be after school, your favorite class, your family, your favorite things and in the center a picture of yourself ofc.

This Friday there will be another quidditch game. I know surprise surprise am I right? No. If you don't suspect a party or a quidditch game with every update where have you been? This weekend is Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor. Probably another party this weekend depending on if y'all are ready after this past weekend's mess.

On another note Mary MacDonald is hosting a cookie gathering a couple of days into Christmas break so I'd like to remind everyone all are welcome except Riddle, Avery, and ESPECIALLY NOT MULCIBER.

And our final reminder is James Potters Christmas ball that will be held December 24th to the morning of the 26th. Please dress appropriately for such an important event.

NOW ONTO EVERYONES FAVORITE PART (I know that's why you're here) ✨THE GOSSSIPPPPP✨

Boy do we have a lot of gossip this week y'all plus some photographic evidence ;)

Let's start with our favorite dramatic couple, Pandora Rosier and Lucius malfoy. It seems the two broke up, this we all of course know but immediately the girl went on a date with another man, Fabian Prewett. Isn't that crazy? Moving on after being in a relationship for such a long time. Although no one seems to blame the girl after finding out Lucius is the one who ended things. The same boy tried making up with his ex-girlfriend only to find her coddled up with the red headed Gryffindor at the party this past weekend. Lucius dropped his make-up gift for his ex and ended up starting a fist fight with the Gryffindor instead. Who then ended up calling Pandora a whore. Ouch that one's gotta hurt.

Severus Snape and a few others ended up breaking the fight up after Pandora was pushed harshly onto the ground by Fabian, with no apology and then it seems the intoxicated blonde girl ran off in tears after the fight, leaving Lucius to pack up his smashed flowers and fix his own bruised knuckles without anyone's help.

And then (ikr it just keeps going) the girl ended up posting a sad love song dedicated to missing the boy. Is there a possibility Pandora is ready to take the boy back?

Now onto Anastasia Selwyn everyone's favorite Slytherin Princess. The girl who seems to have everyone but one wrapped around her finger seems to have had a little fun this past weekend. Miss Selwyn was seen running off with none other than Gryffindor rival, Phoenix Harvey. The same boy posted lipstick stains all over his neck that seemed to match the shade of Anastasia’s own lipstick. Could this be an enemies to lovers story in the making?

Speaking of making out it's been noted that Edmund Avery and Elias Smith were off getting high and drinking together at the party and even caught making out? Are these two friends hiding a different relationship than what they've been telling everyone?

Our proof that was sent in. I mean at this point just ask each other out, Godric.

I've been told to note Remus Lupin and Sirius were hogging a couch and snogging the whole time all of this drama was going on. Hogwarts it couple for real.

Now speaking of couples it seems Andromeda Black has found herself a new boyfriend. The young daughter of Black seems to have gone on a date with none other than Ravenclaw quidditch captain Alexander Kemet-Ali. The two were spotted at a little restaurant in Hogsmeade, seemingly close to one another and even being rumored to have shared a kiss. May this be a new Hogwarts it couple joining the ranks?

(Andromeda and Alexander)HAHAAHAHAHA I HAD PROOF.

Another area of interest is our very own Veronica Davis has posted an interesting question on her blog.

This is her blog from yesterday. It seems we may have a new one for the girls ;)

And onto our last but most interesting gossip for the night. Has anyone seemed to have noticed Mary MacDonald was nowhere to be found during the party? Her ‘good friend’ Emmeline was looking for her during the whole party but the girl was rumored to have gotten lost in the confusing corridors of the school. Only for her to show up a day later with a small bruise and the news that Mulciber was in very bad condition and needed to be brought to Madame Pomfrey, which she refused to do herself. If anyone wants to sign up to whoop Mulcibers ass after he heals the sign up sheet will be posted in the great hall.

Oh and Marlene, honey I'mma need you to act up or something cause I miss writing about you, darlin'.

Anywho that's all for now. Don't forget to send in your gossip for next time.

Have a nice night and remember I'm always watching.

Tah Tah 💋

@james-the-amazing-potter @thebr1ghteststar @looneymoonyy @wormy-loves-ch33se @mystical-magical-me @king-ofthe-crop @xeno-graphical @malfoy-lu @rodolphus-le-strange @averykissableguy @fire-allayer @poison-penmanship @lifeofthe-barty @whokilledevanrosier @pandoras-nox @little-king-official @cas-not-the-band @marls-mckinn0n @hjonesworld @mary-mcdeal @emmelineandhervans @sybill-patricia-trelawney @lilyevansoffical @alicethekindone @flowers-of-narcissus @andromedashoax @the-queen-bellatrix @severusprince-snape @fabian-with-an-f @mollberryshortcake @fawningamos @k1ndest-keeper @aelius-with-a-quill @annajohn-silvae @adam-lukas-morningstar @imogenmorningstar @oxxen--free @camille-laurier @luciagraham @daughter-of-spring @magandang-kaluluwa

Ooc: If I missed tagging anyone I'm sorry.

[ratcash-wasgud]

Sorry, I'm frustrated again. I have to write this out.

But let's just like...talk. You and me.

So, Blue Eye Samurai is supposed to be about this strong, undefeatable woman, finding the men who wronged her, struggling with herself and her trauma, and basically becoming a legend, right?

So...tell me, why, we as a fandom decided, that the best person she could end up with, was the guy who told her to kill herself when she was at her lowest, who made her childhood hell, who STILL calls her a dog??

...

Why though? Because he's the only man who was written to be conventionally attractive? So, a jawline is enough to look past clear abuse? Mhm.

"No, bc he changed." ???

The last time they spoke in the first season, (if I remember correctly) ended up with him having a boner, then calling Mizu a demon before storming off.

I don't want to offend people, really, this fandom is lovely but...

I kinda feel like some of y'all only see looks. If Taigen and Ringo would swap roles, I'm sure none of y'all would like the ship anymore.

I'm sorry, really, I'm usually not one to trash ships, but this one is just wrong to me. And the fact that there are clear signs in the show that they wanna make this canon?? Makes me want to drop the whole show.

I know this sounds really dramatic, but this is eating my brain. Like, it genuinely gives me distress when I think about the fact that those two could be canon one day.

Bc I know, the show's creators are a couple. Obvi, they will end up writing a straight couple to win in the end. So this is reason I'm probably not gonna tune in for the second season. I'm afraid shit gets ruined.

(this is also the reason why I've been inactive. kinda lost motivation to write or do work for bes. but i'm on my way to finding motivation and will again.)

(lol.)

[karma-vvitch]

l'amour de ma vie

Thought I was depressed or losing my mind My stomach upset almost all of the time But after I left, it was obvious why (oh), mm Because for you, you I was the love of your life, mm But you were not mine (but you were not mine)

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Angst

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:  Hurt/No Comfort, Angst fest lmao, Bucky’s kinda a dick in this one (so for all the ppl who don’t like reading Bucky in a negative light, this isn’t for you babe. *I’m ppl), The reader is implied to be chubby/plus size, slight body insecurity, but I think reader girl bossed in this (maybe it’s just me), AGAIN THERE IS NO FLUFF HERE ABSOLUTELY NONE. 

“You ruined me” You glared at him “You ruined me, Bucky Barnes” It’s been 2 weeks and 3 days since Bucky broke up with me. The audacity of that man. I don’t know where it went wrong. Was it when he started coming home late? Or when he started sleeping on the couch? There were too many instances to count. I guess the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he left his phone on the counter, Sharon’s contact notification glowed brightly. “We should stop this” God I thought for once I wasn’t an idiot, but once again my ego was shattered. That fucker told me he loved me, all of me. From my smile, to my curves, to my thighs. And yet he still went for miss perfect. “Baby–” The asshole spoke. “Baby? Seriously Barnes? Trying to soften me up? We’re SO past that!” I laugh incredulously. Fighting the tears welling in my eyes. “You promised me! You dick! You promised me! You said you looked past this–” gesturing to my body “I thought you saw me for me, Bucky!” He looked embarrassed. Good. “Baby, can we please not do it here?” He looked around the common room we were standing in. The place occupied by the team who were in awe and disbelief on what’s going on. This bitch “Oh! You’re embarassed? Good, let them see your shame for the lying, cheating piece of shit that you are!” Gasps are echoed throughout the room. The woman in question as well, finally, looking away in shame. Bucky looked helpless. The severity of the situation finally hitting him like a freight train. “Please, it was a mistake. Yes, I’m a huge asshole for hurting you. You have all the right. I love you. What I did will haunt me for the rest of my life and I’m sorry–” tears flowing freely from his eyes at this point “I’m so so sorry” The sight before you could’ve made you fold easily. Bucky on his knees, grovelling. Your Bucky who held you when your friends abandoned you. Your Bucky who drove you to McDonald’s at 3am to get nuggets. Your Bucky who dropped everything just to go home and take care of you at your lowest. For a second you thought that everything happening at the moment was just a bad dream. He would never hurt you… But he did. His cries snapped you back to reality. “I broke up with you because I was a coward, I thought I could fix myself and come back to your life a better man– I should’ve told you sooner” All I could do is stare at him, emotionless and numb. What does one even do in this situation? The (once) love of your life, who has hurt you beyond any comprehension is grovelling at your feet. Should I say something? Should I lash out at him? Should I make him get up? It was all becoming too much In the end, I just turned my heel and left. The echoes of his increasing sobs and pleas following me. Good.

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This may or may not be based on real-life... Oops. The angst gods were coursing through me ngl. I haven't written in months so this is exciting. The depression is still there and thriving but I'm not gonna let it stop me from doing what I love :>. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully, I get to write more Bucky stuff (I promise there will be more fluff. God knows this man deserves it). Anyway, hope y'all have a great day/night! xoxo

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: None yet!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: Aight y'all. This thing contains some heavy themes i guess, so this one can be skipped if you want. this part is basically a filler chapter.

This picks up one month after the last part ended.

Andddd....

Here we go.

•○🌑○•

Feyre's pov.

Feyre was walking home from her art studio, Nyx hopping along next to her. The day was beautiful, not too bright, not too cloudy. It was a perfect day to go out with her family on a picnic and simply enjoy their company and thank the mother for her blessings.

Or at least it would have been a good day for that if her family hadn't been falling apart.

Rhys had been pulling away more than ever. He had become detached from reality, drinking his days away and being locked up in his office all day. He had become more snappy than ever, yelling and throwing a fit at the smallest inconveniences.

A few days ago, he had punched and cracked a wall because his food was too hot.

Rhys was... he going mad. There was no other was to put it.

He did not want to be talked to, and if he found someone looking at him for longer than a moment, he would snarl like a wild beast. His appearance had also become... worse.

He looked so sick, like he would drop dead at any moment.

A loud gasp drew Feyre from her thoughts, and she looked down to find Nyx staring wide eyed at a spot on the ground nearby.

"Nyx?" Feyre questioned gently, trying to get his attention.

Nyx snatched his hand away from his mother's, sprinting away when Feyre tried to grab his hand again.

"Nyx! What are you doing?"

She followed Nyx, walking briskly behind him. She slowed to a stop when he did, watching as the little boy bent down.

A moment later, he drew up again, a huge, adorable grin on his face.

In his hands was a smooth, white rock. He held it gingerly, both his hands cupped, like holding it too tightly would shatter the beautiful thing.

"Papa would love this mommy."

Her heart melted and shattered at the same time.

But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that Rhys probably wouldn't care, so far lost in his head was he.

"Yes darling, he would love it."

Nyx gave her a toothy grin in return, turning back to the ground as he searched for something. He bent down again, and when he came up this time, he held a smaller rock in his hand and held it out to Feyre.

"This one is for Finnie. I will give it to him when we meet again."

Feyre nodded, plastering on a smile for the sake of her son as she agreed to meeting Fin soon.

But deep down, she knew she wished the two boys never met again. Because there were only two circumstances under which they could meet, and neither were favourable.

The first would be if Y/n returned to the night court, and Feyre knew that wouldn't happen as Y/n didn't want Rhys to mess with her or her son's life ever again.

And the second would be if Feyre left Rhys.

And she wished that it never came to that.

It wasn't that she didn't believe Y/n. At first she hadn't, but then Y/n had showed Feyre her memories, and Feyre had to believe her, no matter how much she wanted it all to be a lie. Because fabricating someone's memories was too hard and even unheard of.

Feyre told herself Rhysand's weird behaviour was only the result of heartbreak, of finding out he had another son all along.

She hoped he would go back to normal, that one day he would wake up and realise how bad his condition had been becoming, how he had been weeping and wasting away for something he could never have and throwing away everything he did have for the illusion of happiness.

As she reached the door of the river house, she wiped away all her thoughts and simply focused on getting Nyx to go to sleep. Or do anything but stay away from his father.

Rhys would probably yell at the little boy if he was in a foul mood, and Feyre simply could not handle watching her son cry.

"Hey Nyx, why don't we make cookies? Would you like that?"

Nyx nodded happily. "Yes mommy. We can do that after I give papa this stone."

"No Nyxie. Can we not give papa the stone later? Or I can give it to him." Feyre offered.

Nyx held the stone away from Feyre, shielding it with his body as he frowned. "No. I will give it to papa."

Before Feyre could try more to convince him, he ran off, climbing the stair as fast as his ittle legs would carry him.

She followed him, making as little noise as possible. Because in the past few weeks, even the littlest noises had been triggering her mate's urge to destroy everything in sight.

"Nyx! Nyx, slow down!" She whispered, frantically reaching for him. He had already reached the landing, and now ran to his father's office.

The door was slightly ajar, and Nyx pushed it open the rest of the way in his haste to give the stone to his father himself.

Feyre reached the door, her heart beating in her throat, just in time to see Nyx reach his hands up, the stone cupped in them, towards Rhys, who was staring down at the little boy, his eyebrows raised.

Rhys took the stone, inspecting it carefully before a nonchalant look crossed his features, and Feyre immediately knew that he was going to throw the rock away and either yell at Nyx or dismiss him entirely.

Feyre didn't want to see her boy sad, and so she reached out with her daemati powers and knocked on the mighty walls of the fortress surrounding Rhys's mind.

He glanced up, irritation evident in his eyes, but he let her speak to him through a small window that he created.

Please don't hurt him. Please pretend.

Rhys cocked his head, and Feyre could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and a sense of dread gripped Feyre when a slow smirk spread across Rhysand's face.

Sure, Feyre. He purred in her mind before he looked down at the little boy, who stared up at his father with a hopeful smile on his face.

"This is beautiful, my boy. Thank you so much." And with that, Rhys pocketed the rock, and Nyx giggled, turning to Feyre with the biggest toothy grin ever.

"Mommy, are we going to make cookies now?"

Before Feyre could respond, Rhysand cut in. "How about you do it with Nuala and Ceridwen? I have an important thing to discuss with mommy."

Nyx nodded, then sprinted away to the stairs, and as Feyre watched him go, the dread coiling around her heart felt like a vise.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked once Nyx was out of sight, and Rhys gestured at her to come in and lock the door. She did so without questioning him.

The moment the lock clicked shut, Rhys prowled forward, his hands landing on the sides of Feyre's shoulders, caging her in against the door. He leaned down, his hot breath washing over the side of her face as he whispered directly in her ear.

"It's been so long since we've had some alone time," A pause as he began to peel her clothes off of her. "Y/n darling."

•○🌑○•

Feyre stared at the beams of moonlight across the ceiling, tears running down the sides of her face and into her hair.

She was ashamed and disappointed in herself, and as she curled into a ball on her side, she considered peeling off her skin and setting fire to it.

She sniffled quietly, her mind refusing to think of anything but the past few hours, when Rhys had touched her, worshipped her like he were a devoted male and she a goddess.

Except hers was not the name he chanted in his prayers.

No, it was of his former lover, and for some reason, she had not been able to push him off of her or do anything to let him know she did not want him to touch her while he was lost in the thoughts of another female.

Rhys had wounded Feyre's heart for nearly half the night, and she could do nothing about it.

Worse were the way he'd rubbed salt on her wounds after the whole ordeal, telling her she was nothing compared to her. That Feyre could never be her, and that it really was a waste of time to have pursued Feyre to see if a mate was worth loosing Y/n over when he could have been with Y/n all along.

Every muscle in Feyre's body clenched as she tried to quiet her sobs so as not to wake him as he slept peacefully at her back.

Feyre didn't know what to do.

Slowly, her mind drifted to that day a month ago, when she and Y/n had talked, and Y/n had showed Feyre exactly what Rhys had done to her.

Feyre... you can come with us.

You can live with us.

Look Feyre, you are Nyx's mother. You know what's best for him. If you need time, then take some time. Think about this if you want. But leave him Feyre. He does not deserve you or Nyx.

I can't force you to come with us but... I beg you Feyre. Think about this. And when you are ready, write to me. I will ask Eris to make arrangements for your safe travel to autumn court.

Feyre sniffed, wiping her tears with her palms as her path forward became clearer.

Write to me.

A pen and paper appeared next to the bed on the nightstand, and Feyre picked them both up, scribbling down a quick message and then winnowing it away, hoping her friend was awake and found it.

Though that would be a miracle, as it was quite literally the middle of the night, and not many people stayed up crying over their pathetic lives.

But there was nothing else Feyre could do except hope, because anything else had been stolen away by her mate. The one who was supposed to never harm her.

With one last look at the sleeping form beside her, Feyre stood, gathering all her discarded clothes and pulling them on, trying not to cringe in embarassment.

Then, she grabbed a bag, stuffed all her clothes and Nyx's inside of it, especially all the expensive gowns of hers. She could maybe sell them to make a little extra money.

Just before se left her and Rhysand's room, her gaze snagged on a bundle of money Rhys stored in his drawer, and a plan formed in Feyre's mind, and her lips lifted in a small smirk.

It seemed that the meeting with Fin would happen sooner rather than later.

And that a visit to the bank was necessary.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @holb32@awoa1@cleverzonkwombatsludge@luvmoo@we-were-beautiful@eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913@j-pendragonx@thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz@esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow@bubybubsters@eos-princess@nightless@bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten@txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman@leeknows-wife@aria-chikage@amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover@kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay@acourtofbatboydreams@stained-glass-eyes0708@glaciuswduo@wallacewillow0773638@cassie6392

Y

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (46)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none

A/N NOT BETA. It's been a minute y'all. I did start a new job though that allows me a lot of time to do some writing. Honestly I would've had this done Wednesday because I took a sick day but I left the papers I write my stories on at work which was a let down. BUT YOU HAVE IT NOW.

“What area are we in?” Moonbyul asked, looking around. 

There were a total of four portal keys. You had taken one and hoped that it didn’t open out in the general area. The boys had forced the girls to go with you just in case things went south the moment you opened a door. 

Luckily for your group, you were immediately welcomed by the sight of lockers and benches inside tiled floors. There were showers off to the side and towels placed in certain areas. You quickly knew where you had entered and cautiously glanced from side to side trying to find others looking around. 

“It's the pool locker room. This is where Jimin stayed most of the time.” You answered, looking around trying to find something out of order. 

Footsteps were heard coming out of the shower rooms. You all froze staring wide eyed at the person heading in your direction. When the man who had been taking his time to shower saw the large group of women all staring at him, he froze in his steps as well.

He had a towel wrapped around his waist, hands frozen in his hair as he had been drying it with another towel. 

“What are you all doing in here?” He suddenly frowned, looking at all of you appalled. 

“Dongwook!” IU gasped, her lips pulling up into a large smile as she moved to the front of the group.

Dongwook’s breath got caught in his throat as he looked down at the swan maiden. His eyes were wide and his lips were open as he tried to comprehend that she was really in front of him. 

“IU? But—How did he get you!? What are you doing here!?” He cried, dropping the towel in his hands to pull at the girl’s arms. 

“Shhh! We don't want to get caught.” Wheein rushed forward, trying to get the man to calm down. “And put some clothes on!”

“Don't tell me to shush. And you're the one in the men's showers.” He speaks to her with an incredulous look. 

You finally moved forward, catching the man’s attention as he realized who you were. “We've come to rescue all of you.”

“What?” He frowned. 

“We've come from our home world. We're going to take you all back.” IU spoke up, giving him a kind smile. 

You watched as Dongwook seemed to take some time to process what it was the woman was telling him. But the moment he got a hang of it, it was clear that he was feeling all kinds of emotions. 

You could only begin to imagine how each and everyone of the patients might be feeling the moment they hear they are going back home. Anyone would be more than thrilled–more than appreciative to go back home. It was one thing to be gone from your home because you were doing something out of town but to be gone because someone forced you. In a different universe no less. Hearing the words that you were going back home was a miracle. 

It made you smile thinking about your boys. 

“Well damn, let me put on some clothes and I'll help you.” Dongwook quickly said, turning around to get his clothing.

“Age did him justice.” Solar nodded to the other valkyries who agreed with her. 

“Where do we go from here?” IU asked, turning to you. 

“We have to find where everyone else is and tell those close by that one of the doors is in here.” You began to explain. “Dongwook you try to lead as many as you can back here. The nurses won't suspect you. For now we'll try to gather as many as we can without suspicion.”

When they all gave you nods in understanding, you quickly began to move around the room, trying to find if anyone else was around the facility. 

“What are you going to do?” Hwasa asked. 

You stop, taking in a breath. It stuck with you what Taehyung had told you. You had no idea where they were–if they were still even out there–but you knew he would never be whole without them. 

“Fearies are supposed to have wings.” You spoke up looking at them all. “I need to find Taehyung's wings.”

“Aren't they looking for you?” Wheein told you.

“I'll try to find a disguise. Don't worry about me. You try to get the others out as fast as you can.” You spoke softly, looking at them all expectantly. 

Walking out into the pool hallway, you made your way to the girl’s locker room. You found it odd how there was a pair of hospital clothes in some draws but you figured it was for people to get new pairs. So you dress yourself up and hope for the best with all the other nurses. 

There weren't really many people out in the hallways but you still continued with caution. Every patient that came across you would look at you wide eyed–surprised you were back. They tried to warn you the best they could about Hanseol looking for you and the boys, but you just explained to them why you were back. 

They still looked at you oddly before tears would begin to fill their eyes. Some decided to help you while others were told to go to the locker room. They sent the children first, making sure each of them were safe. 

You felt confident in the amount of people who were going through the doors–the boys having been keeping you up to date with how many they’ve been sending. Out of the 50 patients in the entire facility 37 have already made it through.

Just as you were turning a corner after sending an older woman on her way, alarms began to blare overhead, the commotion to make you feel unsettled. 

You froze and looked wide eyed as nurses began to rush past. You stuck to the wall allowing the staff and security to rush by. They didn’t pay you any mind, seemingly doing their own thing as they began to open and close doors. 

“(Y/N)! Who set off the alarm!?” Seokjin’s voice resounded through your head. 

You felt something was off as the hall turned quiet aside from the alarms. 

“Kyung knows we are here.” Hoseok's voice warned all of you.

“You have to go back with the others.” 

Your eyes went wide at Namjoon’s command. “What about you?”

“We'll be fine. You have to be safe.”

“Namjoon—”

“Don't argue. Please, for our sake.” Yoongi spoke quietly. 

You clenched your jaw, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to change their minds. But there was something stopping you from listening to what they had to say. You needed to find Taehyung’s wings somehow. At this point you knew they had to be here–it was something in your gut telling you they were. 

“Jagiya.” Taehyung’s soft voice called for you.

His voice only strengthened your resolve. But you knew you would have to lie, if only just for a moment.

You sighed, looking down to the ground. “Okay.”

With the seven boys they all looked at each with grateful glances. They were glad to know you didn’t try arguing, however they didn’t know how far you were from the door. And if you were alone it only made things worse. 

“You had the chance to stay at home and yet you all returned. I knew none of you would ever be able to leave behind everyone.”

They all stopped in their tracks and turned to find the man who had taken them all from their home 10 years ago. He looked mad, much more than normal. It seemed like he wasn’t well put together like he had always been. It seemed as though during their departure things had taken a downturn for the demon. 

“Your ways end here, Hanseol. You've hurt enough people.” Namjoon glared, pushing forward in the group to stand in the front.

“I am not hurting anyone!” Hanseol screamed. “You'd be dead by now if it wasn't for my thinking and research! I am not the bad guy here. I am helping others.”

“You're helping humans.” Jin spat out. 

“Oh, so now you hate them? What about your pretty little mate? Think I don't remember her?” 

Each of them suddenly went ridged. Jin felt Taehyung suddenly grab onto his arm, scared that they were after (Y/N). Yoongi gave Namjoon a worried glance, but the leader only turned to Hobi who gave him a subtle nod to him that she was currently okay. 

For now. 

“Oh how easy human lives are to just break. That is why I am doing what I do. To give them a better future. Better chances of surviving.”

“At the risks of other creatures. None of them deserve what you did.” Jimin retorted. 

“Did what? You were always the ones who offered themselves in their place. We hardly ever touched the others compared to you.”

“Enough of this stupid talk! All of you come back to the facility and I'll let bygones be bygones.”

“You're not okay, Hanseol.” Hobi called out. 

“I am perfectly capable! If you won't come with me then I'll just take you!”

Before any of them could say anything else, Hanseol’s head suddenly turned to the side and a loud crack was heard. All seven of them gasped, taking a step back as the hands that were wrapped around the demon quickly let go of him. 

As Bangtan looked up, their emotions spiked as they watched Kyong look down at Hanseol’s dead body. 

“He doesn't understand when others are stronger than him. If someone was going to kill him it would be me.” The man spoke nonchalantly. 

“Kyong.” Jungkook growled. 

“Nice to see you all again. What a sweet reunion this is.” The man grinned devilishly. “I'm going to enjoy picking you all off.”

Kyong cracked his head, fingers twitching as his fingers turned a black from the magic that seemed to begin to seep out of him. Hoseok felt a shiver go down his spine, feeling something off with the man’s magic. 

“It's seven against one. You really think yourself stronger?” Namjoon asked, lips pulled up in a snarl as he took a defensive stance. 

“You've been stuck here for years. You hardly know an ounce of what I do. You could never try to stop me. Besides who is going to save your little mate.”

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @juju-227592 , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @woozixo,

[dizzy-after-dark]

Cauterized | Steve Rogers

BOOM MIC DROP: SMUT FOR THE END OF THE YEAR! Y'all didn't think I would not post once this year, did you. Well, here it is. I TRIED! Mwah; see you in 2024!

Tags: Angst (not really but yeah), SMUT, fluff

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x F!Reader (Third Person)

Notes: UHHHHH 18+ BUCKOS; this is a continuation of Ignorant, which is the first part and angsty as FUCK but a personal fave of mine if I do say so myself; been really thinking about finishing my requests from over a year ago for Dinner At Dizzy's on my other account, @dizzydancingdreamer (masterlist linked if you're feeling peckish)

Warnings (what to expect, ig): oral (f recieving), fingering, sex (???), uhhhm lack of descriptive writing from a rusty author, sappiness, swearing, bad metaphors, shower sex, alcohol consumption (BARELY), size kink, over-use of the word "Stevie"

Word Count: 4.6k

She pushes the door closed, turning the shower on lazily. Her muscles ache as she twists the knob all the way to the left. Somewhere, sometime she was told about cauterization. You can seal wounds closed with fire— forcibly fuse the skin back together. She has no cuts. Nothing to fuse. And only hot water. However, maybe stepping into the scalding stream might fix the part of her brain that keeps replaying it all, over and over. 

Baby I— 

If anything, it might numb her. She would take that too right now. Hence the bottle on the counter, partially drunk and already open. She takes the first swig, the liquid like fuel to the inferno raging in her stomach, burning the rest of her in the process. The taste is acrid— she’s never been much of a drinker. She just wants to forget it all. Setting it down with a clunk, she strips out of grimey shirt, letting it puddle at her feet. 

Looking at the material, which at one point was a stark white but will now forever be a dingy gray, she laughs. Not really but, yeah, kind of— one of those half amused huffs, anyway. A pity laugh, for the state of her life. That shirt is practically trash. Even if she had the time, energy, or resources to wash it, there’s no way it’ll ever be the same. 

She should just throw it out. 

Is she even talking about the shirt anymore?

She kicks it into the corner, hands falling to the button of her jeans, swollen knuckles screaming as she fails a few times to push the little metal circle through the loop.

“Goddamnit,” she mutters to herself, and to the ghosts, and the spider she saw in the corner when she came in but didn’t have the heart to make the latter as well. 

She’s already made too many ghosts. 

“I, uh, I can help?”

None of those ghosts have ever answered before, though. 

Whirling around, fists balling in front of her face, she readies herself in less than a breaths time to send said ghost straight back to the grave—

“Woah, easy there, baby—”

Only to find Steve, his baby blues wide and a tad panicked but his hand nevertheless peeking through the crack of the door, reaching for her. Mind glazing over with confusion and, well, a fair bit of something russian and label-less, she blinks up at him and the damn door. She closed that— she remembers closing it… right? 

Her eyes flick down and the fire in her belly kindles a little more. 

“Are you kidding me?” She groans, the exhaustion an unwelcome guest in the cavern of her chest.  

His boot, right there in the doorway, holding the measly wooden traitor open. She never heard the damn click. Didn’t even bother to listen for it. Rookie mistake, honestly. She can’t even be mad, really. 

“Please just let me help.” Steve pushes past the door, both arms now extended towards her, but he doesn’t touch her yet. 

He’s waiting. She stays silent. Partly because she has no idea what to say— or what she wants— and partly because he hates it. He absolutely, agonizingly hates when she gives him the silent treatment. She watches his jaw tick, lips pressing together until they go white, and there’s a sick part of her that relishes in the cool satisfaction rushing down her spine. 

You made me like this.

But there’s also a part of her that mourns with him when he clears his throat, crystal eyes flooding over, liquid and glassy, and lowers his arms slightly. Not all the way. He’s hopeful, maybe. America’s sweetheart is always hopeful, that’s one of the things she fell in love with him for. 

That’s still Steve— her Steve. 

“I know—” Steve swallows, “I messed up. I just— you’re hurt, baby. Lemme’ help.”  

She huffs— why is it so fucking complicated? Why can’t they just be normal?

She is hurt. Nothing needs cauterizing but there’s no denying her mottled skin, blue-ish under the crappy motel bathroom lights. Her hands throb, joints screaming at her— when she turns to the mirror, she almost gags at the slight bald patch behind her right ear— fuck, that one had really stung. Absolutely ridiculous the way some people fight these days. 

Her silence is deafening. 

She wants to sob. It’s right there, in the hollow of her throat— she wants to scream. Maybe not at him but in general. She used to live in a penthouse, with all her friends, and the love of her life. Now what? She used to get hurt like this back then too but now it feels purposeless— what are they even doing this for if they have nothing. Have no one. It made sense when she still had him. 

Meeting his gaze in the mirror— disappearing a bit into fogged up glass but there regardless— she still has him. Kind of. But she still doesn’t say anything when she turns back to face him. The frown carved into her face feels vile— deep and disgusting and entirely real— but she can’t make it go away. She can’t stop the sniffle, either. Why can’t she just tell him she misses him?

“Fuck.” 

It’s mumbled under his breath. The Captain America, standing in some rundown wreck of a place off some lonely highway, is swearing. Because of her. Is this hell? It feels like hell. 

But, no, it can’t be, because his hands are so, so gentle as they cup her cheeks, thumbs softly dancing over the bruises, half assessing, half trying. Trying to do what, she doesn’t know. Wipe them away? Commit them to memory? She leans into his touch regardless, conceding ever so slightly. She won’t say it, but he can help. There isn’t a universe in which she would truly deny him. 

The first tear that falls isn’t hers, but his, landing on her forehead right before he buries his face in her hair, wrapping those supersoldier arms around her, trying and, well, failing not to crush her in the process. The tenderness in her broken body is worth it, though, because he smells like home, even if tinged with gunpowder and war. 

“I am so sorry—” he whispers, heartbeat erratic under her ear, chest heaving for breath— “I am so sorry I brought this on you. You’re hurt and it’s my fault.”  

Complicated. She fists his t-shirt as hard as she can— fists in until her hands go numb. It’s not fair how complicated it has to be for them. 

Steve didn’t throw her into the fight, didn’t slam his fist into her eye, or rip her hair out by the handful. Steve didn’t even make her come with him when he left; that was entirely her choice. But he did lose his mind a little bit. Power tripped a little too hard. Focused so much on keeping them all safe that he missed the part where he was just supposed to hug her— and that’s what sucked most— but he is now, right?

That has to count for something? 

He pulls back and her fingers tighten, steeling, tensing. He can’t go, even if she isn’t sure what they are anymore. 

The agony in his eyes when he draws the line from her balled fists holding on for dear fucking life to her own, misty gaze is indescribable. “Baby I don’t know how to fix this. I want to, I—” he clears his throat again and her frown carves even further into her skin, eyebrows drawing together— “I want to so fucking bad.”

He plants his forehead against hers and it aches, the warmth of his skin. “I don’t want to make it worse. I need you to tell me how to help.” 

There’s a stinging in her throat where the words simply don’t manifest. What the fuck is she supposed to say? Nothing, at all, really, because she doesn’t even know how to fix her and she’s not mad so there’s nothing to fix… but isn’t there? Isn’t there something between them that desperately needs mending? Isn’t she mad? 

Is it anger? 

Or is it something much more primal. 

No, there are no words she can tell him. She could show him, though. Maybe that will work.

Letting his shirt go, she watches the breath catch in his chest, stuck and frantic. She knows that feeling well— that icy desperation to keep holding on no matter what. But she’s only grabbing his hands, not leaving him, and he’ll see that soon so she continues to drag him towards the stupid, little button that her useless fingers couldn’t seem to undo. In hindsight, maybe they were just waiting for him. 

Realizing, his forehead is off hers quickly, eyes seeking hers. “What? I don’t—” She flattens his palms against her stomach, engulfing the button, and he breathes the last word out— “understand.” 

Her brows raise, cheeks still on fire but now also burning— yes you do. 

“Are you sure?” He asks but there’s a little click— the same one she hadn’t heard earlier— as his boot clad foot kicks the door properly shut, and she’s pretty sure he knows just how sure she is.

All it takes is her thumbs on his, prodding them towards her arch nemesis— damn you, Levi jeans— and the soldier is moving, not rough in his quick actions, but determined. The button is no match for Steve Rogers on a regular day, but today? Now that he has a goal? A starting place? The button may as well have disintegrated under his fingers. 

Her own hands fly to his shoulders, clinging to him as he tugs the blasted jeans off her legs, trying the best she can not to topple over with the sheer force of him. Material pooling at her feet, his palms smooth so slowly back up her now bare legs, rising goosebumps in their wake. She hasn’t been touched in ages— she feels kind of like an animal waking up from hibernation, disorientated and hungry. 

Grabbing at her hips suddenly, her ass is on the cool countertop before she even has the chance to get dizzy. Spreading her thighs with his own, he works on her bra next— this faded, hole ridden thing that if she wasn’t so engulfed in searing, licking desire, she’d probably be embarrassed about. But it’s gone so soon that she doesn’t have a chance and replaced instead with two, bulky hands that entirely engulf her breasts. 

They squeeze her skillfully— with purpose. Thumbs swiping delicious circles around her nipples, flicking this way and that, exactly how he knows she likes it— exactly the way that should have her as a mewling heap in his hold. But she’s not— she’s contained, even as her very skin thrums alive with anticipation. Is this revenge or is it just fucking complicated?

She can’t decide so instead she bites the moan clawing at her throat into small enough pieces to swallow, all the while tuning into something dark that sparks in his ever watchful gaze. 

She’s caught— he gets it now. 

“Really, baby?” He muses, palming her, squeezing just hard enough to give the touch a slight bite. His tone has her feeling like a deer in his headlights— like a freight train is barrelling directly at her and there’s nowhere to go— and she squeezes her thighs around him, welcoming the collision. “You think I won’t work for it?” 

She only blinks at him. Once… twice… 

Her panties are dropped somewhere into the abyss, long forgotten with the rest of her clothes, and his knees thud heavily against the tiled floor. Replacing his body, his head now hovers right in front of a different button, golden hair tickling her sensitive skin as he pulls her legs over his thick shoulders. His skin is warm but not as much as his balmy breath which hits her clit, teasing her into a mess, hands curling around the edge of the counter. 

Come on, Steve. 

But, no, he doesn’t give in to her just yet. First, he turns to her inner thigh, sucking her skin into his mouth with bruising pressure before letting it go with a pop. He peers up— nothing. Moving to the other one, he whispers quick kisses over her sex but never lingers, only biting into her flesh once more once across her mound, teeth almost teasing a whimper from her this time but no, she’s not budging. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t driving her crazy. Inside, she screams— she craves. C’mon baby just give it to me. Outwardly, her hands drunkenly find his hair, tugging at his soft locks. Now, now, now she chants furiously.

He unseals his lips from her thigh, peering up, less dangerous and back to being her ever hopeful boyfriend— is her her boyf— He kisses her folds, spongy lips lingering a moment, rendering her blank and feverish. Angelic— he’s angelic. From under his long lashes he all but begs her, his dark eyes starving and wanting, but his hands are so soft on her hips, massaging deep into her. It’s this mixture of puppy dog pleading and a knowing of sorts— he knows she’s going to cave eventually.

How does he do that? 

“Words? Please?”

She only pouts and, again, the switch flips. “Fine.”

The word is punctuated with the warm, wet stripe he licks up her center, flicking his tongue languidly over her clit. For as rushed as he’d started this mission, he’s truly never been one to speed through his meals, preferring instead to devour her slowly— expertly— tasting her thoroughly like he has all the time in the world. Meanwhile her body pulses, teetering dangerously already on the knife-sharp edge of too much and too little as he masterfully carves her out. 

Her hands, which had moments ago tried to pull him closer, now use his hair as handles to keep herself from toppling off the counter when he slides her closer to him, burying his face fully into her heat. Heels digging into his back, she watches the spot where his shirt rides up intently, consumed not only by the harsh sucking on her clit but also the tanned, muscled skin peeking out and then disappearing below his own jeans, taunting her. Why hadn’t she taken it off him first? 

She doesn’t have time to think much more about it though because he’s ravenous and she may as well be ice cream, sweet and sticky, melting all over him, dripping down the sides of his face and fingers as they begin prodding against her. They tease, pushing into her but not quite far enough— hard enough.  

His gaze on her is overpowering— it’s deliberate. 

“Y’know,” he speaks against her, the vibrations making her tense, “you can just tell me what you want ‘and I'll do it.”

Her mouth is like sandpaper— her brain, uncooperative. This push and pull is becoming lethal, the next few pokes of his tongue honey slow and spine jolting. Please— she wants to beg. She’s so empty. So, so, achingly empty. Would his fingers even be enough? At this point, it’s as though he would need to crawl into her very chest to fill her up the way she needs to be. How could her words even convey something so needy? 

“Anything, baby. Whatever you want.” 

They can’t, so they don’t, but for the sounds she refuses to make, he doubles in his own, moaning his frustrations right against her. If he can’t make her say anything, he damn sure is going to make her do something. That’s probably why he finally caves, pushing his fingers in to the hilt, and she was stupid to think they couldn’t fill her, the slight burn of them not at all foreign but definitely intense. 

As they bury themselves in her over and over and over again, she bucks against his hand, chasing the start of a little ball of electricity growing in the pit of her stomach, getting higher and higher with every twist of his fingers. Combined with the incessant flick of his tongue— she’s a goner. Stifling the moan, her teeth find home in her lip, biting so hard her mouth gains a slight tang that excites her even more. What’s she even doing? 

Wouldn’t it be more fun if she just let loose? Isn’t that what’s been missing the whole time? The fun? 

When she sees the glint in his piercing stare— impish despite everything they’ve been through— she gets it. It’s hopeless— she is and they are but they’re together and the fun isn’t gone— she’s done. He earned it.

“Stevie—”  she finally cries, animalistic; it doesn’t sound like his name but he must know it is because, even with the intense throbbing consuming her entire body, she can feel his shoulders soften under her thighs— “please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

“That’s it baby,” he coos against her clit, voice raw, compliant as he continues to pump his fingers in time to her squirming, “that’s my girl. I missed that pretty voice of yours.” 

At what point the first orgasm turns into a second, she isn’t sure. It’s all one big blur of her whiny moans, wanton and liquid body, and his hushed prayers against her flushed skin, tongue lapping relentlessly against her. More baby; I know you can give me more. She doesn’t so much hear them as she does become them, absorbing them into her skin. That’s it angel— so good, so good for me.

She can feel him drinking in her mumbled, jagged noises, some words but others mere syllables, coaxed out of her by tongue and fingers all the same. Steve— honey— mmph, fuck, right there— oh my— the words pour out now, dam broken beyond repair, and for some reason, or maybe a lack thereof, it spurs her on even more, a freed woman if ever there was one— 

“Oh my god, Stevie!”

It’s maddening— he’s maddening. 

He’s relentless. 

It isn’t until she yanks his still-eager mouth away from her, stomach iron-tense from way too much overstimulation, does he slowly draw his hand reluctantly back from her shuddering body. His other arm unwinds from where it’s been snaked around her knee, anchoring her to him throughout the duration of his worship. Now pushing him upright, holding him just near enough to where she can hear his labored breaths but not feel them, she shivers, cold as ice without his heat. 

He stares down at her, unmoving, and her heart jumps in her chest. She doesn’t understand— he’s just standing there while she shudders, breathless. His shirt is stretched, no doubt from her pulling at it, and in noticing the damage she remembers how she’s completely naked and he’s completely not. Exposed doesn’t even begin to touch how she feels. 

She wraps her arms around her chest, knees drawing up to tuck under her chin. “Steve?” 

She’d forgotten what it felt like to constantly have him next to her— to have his furnace like warmth melting into her skin almost every minute. Now that she’s had her first real taste of him again, she’s de-acclimated to being alone. She needs him.

“C’mere,” she begs, shaking and a bit confused, why isn’t he touching her still, “please, Stevie, come back.” 

When her fingers finally swipe against his shirt, barely snagging it, he flinches, coming back to her. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean—” 

She flings herself at him, heart off kilter and erratic in her chest as her lips press against his, swallowing his apologies and hoping beyond anything else that he just catches her, like he always does. He does, kissing her back fervently— reverently. His tongue, tinted with her essence, scoops into her mouth the same way he had been between her thighs. She welcomes the way he takes charge, knowing he holds her against him with every ounce of strength he has.

“—’m sorry,” he pants into her mouth, clearly not satisfied with the success of her attack, “so, so sorry baby.” 

He repeats the words deliriously. Presses them into her hair and against her temple, on her chin and both her cheeks. He especially feeds them to her, word for word, against her lips, soft at first and then rough, frenzied. He’s not talking about right now. He’s still back in that apartment; the fallen angel amongst the rubble, wings too broken to just leave it. 

It’s not complicated. And it’s not revenge, because she could never make him feel worse than he already does, nor would she want to. So, in between kisses and apologies, she answers.

“I know, Stevie.”   

“It’s ok— we’re ok, Stevie.” 

“Steve, stop— I love you!”

He stops. He sets her down, bare feet planting unsteady against the ground. He steps back. What?

“Stevie?” She questions, already moving forward, but his arms, sweeping over his head, towing his shirt up and off, halt her in her tracks. 

Oh.  

 Oh. 

This time, when she says his name it's only a breathy moan, fingers searching for his belt loops and hooking him towards her. In the time it takes for her hands to find the button— this one, thankfully, popping open immediately— there must be a god somewhere who didn’t abandon them in the rubble— he’s back on her, one hand carefully threading through her hair, dragging her mouth back to his, while the other pushes the rest of his clothes to the ground.

“I love you, I love— ah, fuck,” he hisses as her hand wraps around him, thumb brushing over his velvety tip.

For the first time, she smiles against his mouth, calm. “Language, Rogers.”

He pulls back, one neat eyebrow flicked up, but there’s humor in his eyes— no more tension. No more worry. Just fun. He leans down, nuzzling his chin down the side of her face, breath fanning her ear. Her hand stutters as it tugs on him, dragging up and down. He’s so hard— it’s been so damn long. 

“Thought I was Stevie, baby?” It’s an absent minded tease, blush lips parted even after the fact, glued to the way she touches him. 

In turn she watches his face, crowned in a mussed up halo of gold, some of which sticks to his forehead but most falling at every which angle, a product of her thighs sealing themselves around him. She can’t say that she’s never seen him this disheveled but she’ll never get used to it. He’s perfect— she makes him so messy. 

Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one enjoying herself, though, if the heaviness of him between her fingers, rutting into her palm is anything to go by. She squeezes harder, testing something, and he groans something almost inhuman against her neck. Guttural. He’s so close already. It fuels her like nothing else, tickling the part of her that just wants to please. She’s making reparations, too. Speeding up, she works him faster. Come on, honey.  

“Stevie—” she echoes and the next thing she knows, he’s pulling her off him, pushing her towards the steam which billows out from behind the curtain. 

From the moment her feet touch the warm, wet surface of the shower floor, everything is a blur. The water sprays over her harshly, but only for a moment, before he overpowers it with his own, massive body, just as searing against her skin. She registers the slick splat of her back against the wall, a grunt— missed this, baby, and her own feral howl as he slams into her. There’s no waiting, no tiptoeing, only his cock sealing them together furiously once more. 

One of her legs is hiked up impossibly far, hinging near his hip where his hand crushes her to him. The other leg holds her up— barely— heel raised, toes splaying for grip as she reaches higher. He’s just so big— so tall and so thick. So impossible to adequately open herself to without him fully lifting her but she wants to try so she does her best to meet his brutal pace, clinging around his neck desperately. 

If his fingers had filled her entirely, his cock is almost unbearable. She relishes it, though, the way she can almost feel him in her damn throat with each and every drag. It’s mesmerizing, the way there’s no need for adjustment— for remembering. He knows her body like it’s his own and it makes her drool with pleasure.   

The slapping of their skin together proves to be louder than the rush of the water, but not more so than Steve whose mouth is working over time, ladeling praises directly into her ear, soaked, stubbly chin grating deliciously against her temple.

“You look so pretty baby,” he hums, staring mesmerized at their bodies to where he slips in and out of her, “ look at you taking me so well.”  

And she does. 

It’s a lewd notion, the way she can see exactly where he is inside her by the way her belly ripples with his plunges, but one that makes her gasp nonetheless, spasming around him which is also visible to both of them. Loosening one of her hands from its vice grip on his shoulder, he places it on the exact spot, urging her to feel just how big he is. With every sloppy push and pull, she does feel it, and it sends her reeling.

“See that?” He rasps, and she can only nod, mouth agape enough for some of the water falling off his hair to drip into it. 

She swallows it, tongue somehow so, so dry despite everything. Her nerves are on fire, everything so much slower than it should be. 

The agonizing pull of his hand on hers, dragging her own fingers under his to toy with her clit. 

The little circles that take hours to complete but nurture the current running through her veins regardless. 

The fucking torturous in and out of his cock— taunting her, languidly pounding her for what feels like an eternity— she can’t think. She’s in the water but she feels under it, too, foggy and pent up. She just wants to cum—

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—” 

“—Stevie!” 

She breaks through the sluggish pleasure into electric and all consuming waves, head falling against the wall as his hips stutter against hers, pumping once, then twice, before falling still. Each time, she clenches harder, babbling something gritty and foul and incomprehensible. Something along the lines of holy fucking shit baby but its blurred with searing, pulsing pleasure.

There’s stars behind her eyes and steam in her nose as he falls against her chest, sopping hair tickling her hypersensitive skin. Him pulling feels like what two exposed wires touching must— all sparky and hot. It’s too much. 

“Mmm, careful baby,” she mumbles and he chuckles. 

“Of course.” 

The rest is truly a lull. Steve doesn’t bother gathering their clothes, only her, carrying her limp body to the bed and carefully setting her under the covers, dripping and all, before joining her. If she weren’t so sleepy, she would have scolded him. But she is and her eyes are refusing to stay open, let alone give him that look. It’s all she can do = to seek his warm skin once more, slithering against his body and rooting herself there. 

Cauterized, or something like it. 

[gameshowtrainwreck]

the only difference between the weepy wendsday club and myself is that I've been fucked by the system longer than they have (D or R, both parties fuckin' 𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖 the disabled), and now they're sad because there's a chance they might have to experience it themselves.

i am a reflection of what i deal with as shaped by the environment i occupy. people literally tried to argue that sometimes genocide is acceptable and that doing less than the bare fuckin basic minimum (e.g. 1% of the 43 million student loans forgiven) means we shouldn't criticize or talk bad about my betters otherwise trump will win.

trump still won, you dumb motherfuckers.

trump still won and none of these hateful pieces of shit will learn anything from it. losing to trump once can be a mistake, benefit of the doubt covers that. losing to him twice is a pattern of deliberate, willful decisions by those within the party that everybody else swears will defend democracy yet simultaneously are also too fragile to withstand criticism from someone who would have really liked for her to win. considering how fucking smug everybody had been about it before the election, even i thought harris had it in the bag. turns out that if i handled a fucking surgery the same way harris handled her campaign, i would still be in fuckin prison.

the same group of people who watched a genocide unfold and said nothing are now subject to the big sads. folks, nobody has any reason to be sad about something your candidates willfully chose to do.

if anything, y'all should be getting angry. get angry at the people responsible for this in your own goddamned party. or don't, because gosh we all know how much of a fuckin hassle it was actually giving a shit during the 1st trump admin.

i guess that's why a lot of harris voters are now talking about wishing more hurricanes on the south (even though black people will be the most likely to be hurt by it) or calling ICE on latinos for having the fucking gall to not vote correctly; makes sense to just go full-on masks-off.

that's why i'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop and all these sadsack assholes start switching over to full-blown fascism. i would fucking jizz my pants if i was proven wrong, believe you me, but a lifetime of experience and a neurodivergent hyperfocus on world history has told me a lot of people simply ain't got that shit in them.

so fuck em, i will cuss them out if to provide some modicum of consequence for the democratic party failing the people they allegedly care about because god knows a lot of these motherfuckers have been sheltered by their economic status.

[kairiscorner]

❝THINGS UNSAID❞ — miles 1610 x reader (part 1)

⋆✮↪ summary: six months into your relationship already, yet you feel so... neglected. you felt unimportant to him, when he swore you were the most important person in his life. if you were so important, he'd fess up he's spider man to you, wouldn't he? ⋆✮↪ pairing: miles 1610 x gn!reader ⋆✮↪ word count: 1,566 ⋆✮↪ author's note: i loved this idea from that one anon who requested, and they gave me the option of doing either, but because i love both of my sons AND angst, i decided to make two diff versions for y'all to enjoy :DD (reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

yet another message was ignored, another call wasn't answered, and another night of you waiting by the cafe he told you he'd meet you at. with a grunt, you put your phone down and dropped the call on him. you wanted to scream right now, throw the plates of the pastries you ordered for the two of you and stop on the shattered bits and pieces of ceramic. you tried to keep it in you, your disappointment, your loneliness; but a heart can only hold so much pain and feelings of neglect until it all just comes pouring out.

you were way more patient than you should've been, and why was that? because you knew what he was really doing behind the scenes. you weren't worrying that he was cheating on you, doing shady things, or falling behind at school; none of it was as serious as the job he does as spider man. yes, you were dating spider man, and you... you were not living the dream. you knew miles was spider man way back, the dead giveaway for you was the way spider man held you when he saved you when you were going to fall off a building. the way he held your waist, the way he held you close to his chest, how his fingers felt when he clutched you and kept promising in hushed tones he wouldn't let you go... it felt all too familiar.

you wanted to unmask him right then and there to prove your suspicions, to mutter his name and have him look up at you with a surprised expression on his lenses; you wanted him to be honest with you, you wanted him to admit his secret, but how could he? how could he be when he wanted you to be dating miles morales, not spider man; he wanted you out of the danger, not heading straight first into it if you knew he was always risking his own life for you. but in the process, he was risking his relationship with you.

you understood, every single time why he wasn't there with you, why he couldn't be there with you tonight. you respected that he wanted to keep it from you, not knowing that you were already very aware about who he really was. you tried your hardest to remind yourself he had a duty to serve, innocent, helpless people he had to save from dangers greater than you could ever comprehend; but you were facing your own battles, too. you were going to have tryouts for your school's varsity team, and you felt so... overwhelmed. you tried not to worry about it too much, but the burden of knowing you might or might not make it was too real, too palpable for you. miles had always assured you back then he'd be there for you whenever you needed him, he promised he'd be there. but now, where was he?

you had it, you didn't care anymore if he was spider man, the easter bunny, or santa claus, you had it. you stormed out of the cafe and headed home, about to bring him hell the next day. when you saw his back in the hall the day after, you didn't hesitate. you pushed your way out of the crowd and grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face him. you were scowling, and you were furious with him. miles looked at you with annoyance in his eyes.

"what's wrong?" he asked you, as if he really didn't know why you were so pissed. "miles, where were you?" you asked him with poisonous venom lacing your tone. miles' eyes went wide and his lips quivered a little as his mind raced for an appropriate excuse, a believable one that wouldn't piss you off. "i was... helping my dad out last night, carrying stuff, we were moving furniture." "i called your home phone last night, your mom told me you were asleep." you pressed him as he shut his locker's door and began to walk off, not wanting to anger you anymore.

you followed him as he wove his way through the crowd of people in the hall. "i slept because i was tired from all the furniture moving." he argued back as he tried to hold back from getting irritated back. if you only knew just how much miles wanted to admit to you the truth, the real reason why he couldn't be there to comfort you, offer you support and at least make it to one date... but being spider man is a sacrifice, a job he takes up so no one else, especially not you, gets hurt.

you sighed as you tried reaching out for his hand. "well, you couldn't have texted me at all? accept my calls? let me at least know why you couldn't come that night? because i would've understood if you just told me--" you were in the middle of telling him, but miles couldn't bear to be around you right now. when you finally grasped his hand, he yanked himself away from your grasp and turned to face you with eyes filled with agitation and stress.

"well there are things you can't understand sometimes, things you won't ever be able to understand! have you ever thought of that?!"

he snapped at you. he raised his voice at you.

...he really didn't trust you at all, did he?

miles heaved and tried catching his breath as he tried to shake off the boiling anger and frustration he was feeling. it was all too much for him, to know that you depended on him, you needed him when the whole city needs spider man... it was torture to face you right now when he feels so unworthy of having you, of being loved by you. "look, i..." miles began, but words failed him as his voice faltered, his mouth remained hung open as you stared at him in disbelief, hurt that miles spoke to you that way when all you asked for were answers, honest truths--you couldn't even be entitled to the truth by your own boyfriend, it seemed.

before you knew it, tears were rolling down your cheeks and falling down to the floor. your uniform's blazer was getting stained by the wet tears, which relentlessly flowed down your face as your mouth curved into a weak frown. your lips twitched at the corners as you sniffled back your tears and raggedly breathed in and out, rubbing your eyes so the tears would hopefully quit falling. "why do you keep doing this to me, miles?" you choked out as the tears' falling merely worsened, and your sobs became louder. "i try... so hard... to see where you're coming from, but how... how do i even start when you refuse to... to tell me a thing?" you asked him in between your sobs as miles looked at you and darted his eyes down to his feet, a veil of sadness curtaining his eyes as he looks remorseful and regretful about everything that just happened.

some of the other students were looking over the catastrophe unfolding before them, with miles slowly approaching you, hesitant he even should be. he tried putting his hands on your shoulders, clear it up to you that he didn't mean to hurt you like that, but you moved away from his touch. "i can't be with you anymore. we're done, miles." you said in a louder voice, which stung miles' heart and made him freeze up, petrifying him as you moved past him, running off in the opposite direction. you refused to say anything more to him and instead brought yourself away from the situation and ran off to cry somewhere else, away from everybody.

miles tried to call your name, tried to turn on his heels and run off after you, patch things up because he really didn't want to lose you, but... he did nothing. he turned around to watch you leave, guilt and shame coating his face, but he couldn't make another move. he was still, he was kept in place by some invisible force that wanted to remind him of the consequence of his outburst. he did what he had to that night, not going to you at that cafe to save a whole city, to keep you safe, to not lose you; but in the end... he still lost you because he didn't go, he didn't keep his promise, he couldn't keep a single promise, hence he couldn't keep you.

the onlookers and bystanders eventually went their own ways, awkwardly trying to make their way through the tumultuous and emotional events that just transpired here. miles gradually began to walk again from the spot he was practically glued to after processing what just happened. he headed off to his first class with a gloomy and sullen face after he realized he lost you. he tried to cover up his own sadness and melancholy, until ganke caught up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "miles, what--" "they left me." miles responded promptly, his voice soft and shaking. ganke looked over at miles, and he saw a few tears rolling down his face. "they left me, ganke... i was so stupid..." he sobbed out as ganke pat him on the back and led him to their first class. with a heavy heart, miles tread to class, unable to listen to a single thing, understand a single thing except that he's lost you.

but like hell he'd let it end here.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn

[mxtantrights]

no ordinary human

a/n: okay so after this, will be a final part. I didn't have any idea y'all would like it this much but thank you so much for the notes and the comments! fair warning since it's gonna end soon, buckle up because I wanna give you some angst. I hope you enjoy!

The wind feels good against your skin. You hadn't been able to just sit down and relax for a while now. And by a while you mean three years. That's how long you've been here for.

Three years of living in another place and longing for home.

Three years of several unanswered questions.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, holding your arms out. Work had been busy these past few weeks. And you haven't taken any time for yourself in between that and trying your best to understand your place here.

You don't notice that someone is behind you until they finally speak up.

"I hope you don't think you can fly."

You don't jump at the sound of another voice though. No, because you're technically still living in a nightmare. Not a lot can scare you anymore.

You turn around and find the source of the voice.

"Amren, I don't think I can fly." you answer.

"Good, because I have a question for you."

"Go ahead."

"Which one will you choose?" she asks.

You clear your throat. You know exactly what she's talking about. Or, you know who she's talking about. You've had this dilemma for more than a year now.

-

When Eris visited you for the second time, it was a few months after he first met you. He apologized and told you that he was trying his best to help you. You took it at face value and accepted it.

But you didn't, well you couldn't, forget that feeling deep inside of you. That he was lying but you still trusted him. Even though you didn't know him.

It's not until the third visit that you inquire a bit more about him. He seemed surprise that someone would ask about him. That someone would have questions for him.

He seemed to answer truthfully and politely. And he even ask your some questions of his own. Not that many, and they were merely basic ones.

But after that third visit he seemed to visit more often. Even if it was a quick drop in to ask how you were doing. He showed up almost every Seven days to see you. Even though he had not progress on getting you back home.

The two of you fell into a routine. Sometimes he'd bring little trinkets. Other times he'd teach you something about the current world you're living in.

It was something delicate between the two of you. You'd be a bit mad to say that you didn't find him attractive when you first met him. But that feeling only grew the more you spent time with him. He was infectious.

Sometimes he would smile and you would think that he never done it before. That he's not used to it, but he does so indoor presence which makes you feel special.

-

"Well, who says I even have to make a choice? Maybe none of them think of me that way. After all I'm just an ordinary human." you say.

Amren scoffs, "No you're not an ordinary human. And these aren't normal circumstances."

"Even if I agreed with you, for a moment, they were my friends first. I wouldn't want to ruin that."

"Azriel liked you from the moment he saw you, he just didn't want to say anything."

That stuns you. Amren takes in the look on your face and you try your best to reign it in. But you can't and she can't help but to laugh at you.

"Oh between the little things he does and how he speaks to you, you didn't put it together?" she asks you.

-

For three years Azriel has been a sort of unspoken calm in your world. From the moment you met him and he helped to get you out of Beron's hold. Of course you didn't trust him, or any of them, for the first four months.

But at some point you did. And it wasn't because of some nice gesture or fancy gift, though they did all try those routes. Azriel was the only one to realize what you needed without asking. Space.

It wasn't until one night you woke up from the worst nightmare you ever had since arriving in their world, that he denied you your space. You were clawing at your skin and screaming in your sleep.

He had jumped in, waited for you to wake up and calmed you down from there. You never had a nightmare after that.

Azriel worked his way into your life unconsciously. Whenever Amren couldn't train you, he would. And he wouldn't hold back either. No matter how many times you told him that you were still human.

Somewhere along the lines you became friends. He'd hangout with you once or twice a week, work schedule permitting. And he would invite you to family dinners sometimes.

When you decided to move out and get a place on your own he was the first one to support you and help you find a place. He helped you move and even offered to stay a couple of nights with you if you wanted another soul in the house to talk to.

He visited the most out of everyone. Always dropping by, always around to talk.

Azriel and you didn't get too deep. You didn't have to, really. It was like the two of you understood each other. The gaps of silence between the two of you were never awkward, they were welcomed.

-

"Why wouldn't you tell me this before?!" you ask incredulously.

Amren rolls her eyes, "You're not a child. Neither are they. And anyways there are other circumstances that you don't know about."

"What other circumstances are there? "

Amren sighs.

"I really think you should talk to the two of them about this." she answers.

"You brought it up!" you say.

"I know, because it was pestering me. But now I realized I opened a box that wasn't mine." she replies.

"Are they here?" you ask.

She nods her head, "Yes. In the ballroom talking to each other. Which is a sight in itself."

You clear your throat, trying to muster the courage needed for what is bound to come next. And you walk out of the terrace. You bid Amren a goodbye as you step inside.

Almost as if they're waiting for you, the both of them stand by the front door. They turn to face you when you enter the room. You try to not let the nerves over take you as you walk over to them.

Once you're in their vicinity, you speak. Or you're going to, but they both beat you to it.

"We need to speak to you." they say a the same time.

Eris opens the front door and beckons your forward. You say nothing as you walk through the door. As you walk and walk down the long hallway to your old room, you can hear their footsteps behind you.

It takes a few more moments before all three of you are in a room. You take a seat on the bed and look at the both of them before you. The both of them look like they are trying to figure out who is going to speak first.

The shadowinger crosses his arms over his chest.

"I do have to confess something to you." Azriel says.

Your eyes go wide. You wonder if he was okay with just confessing his feelings in front of Eris. Surely he knows that you and Eris are tiptoeing a not so friendly line too.

"The reason why I come around more than the others, it's because your'e different. I haven't met anyone like you and the feelings I have for you are not what I'm used to." he continues.

You nod along, "You have feelings for me?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying." he agrees.

Your eyes flutter over to Eris, who doesn't look shocked at all. You're a bit confused.

"And you?" you ask him.

He smirks, "I have feelings for you too. A bit different than what he feels, some might say stronger-"

Azriel nudges Eris. The red head lets out a breath.

"But I haven't been forthcoming to you, since we've met." he says.

"about your feelings?" you ask.

"We didn't meet for the first time in this room. We met earlier, when you first got here." Eris answers your question.

You stand from your seat.

"You met me when I got taken?"

"No, after. When you ended up in the autumn court. I took you in." Eris confesses.

"No you didn't, I would remember-" you cut yourself off.

You remember having that conversation with him a while ago. How he has certain powers. Mind tricks. All certain things he can do to person's mind. Especially to a human mind, untrained and fragile.

"You knew your father had me and you did nothing?" you whisper, mostly to yourself.

Eris steps forward but you hold out your hand. The flash of hurt that crosses his face is palpable. You don't like seeing him hurt but after hearing what he just said, and all that comes with it, you can't find it in yourself to stop it.

"I couldn't go against him, I told you that I have plans to remove him." he tries to explain.

You nod sourly, "And why let a silly human girl get in the way of those plans."

"I don't think that." Eris tries to correct you.

But you can't get another question out of your head. You look at Azriel and he's looking at your already. Face stoic. No emotion behind his eyes. He just confessed to having feelings for you but he looks so different right now.

"You knew." you say to him.

He nods once, "I did."

"And you said nothing."

"It wasn't my place-" he starts.

"Oh my god! I can't believe this, I just fell for it. I actually fell for two people who lied to my face every single day. Since I landed here I've been a pawn and I still am."

"You're not-" Eris starts.

"I am! I still am. Why did you even tell me any of this tonight?" you ask out of breath.

Eris looks over at Azriel. The shadowsinger uncrosses his arms from his chest. They both look at you then.

"We think there is a way to send you home."