#but as for a Thing it would do or magic ability i don’t know

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

That is so nice of you honestly, i think the the ask was how a yan alucard would take advantage of his position of power in the village post season 4, and if he and the people(the villages people, the orphans, sypha and Trevor) around him would pressure his fem love interest/obsession into being with him because of all he has done for them making it very difficult to reject his advances with out becoming a social outcast .Like I can imagine a darker version of him proposing to his Darling in a public space surrounded by the aforementioned people and villagers for that very reason. And side note do you think he would turn his Darling so they could be together for ever?

A/N: Yes, oh my gosh, yes! A Yandere! Alucard would 100% use his position of power over her to gently “guide” her into falling for him. And I do think, that yes, a Yandere! Alucard would eventually try to turn his Darling. I like to think that it might take some extra dark magic, as he is not a full vampire, but that he goes down that path willingly for her (regardless of how she feels about it) because once he falls, he falls hard, and he cannot imagine living without her.

TW: Toxic/Manualpative Relationship, and Brief Mentions of Sex and Pregnancy 

Yandere! Village Leader Alucard Headcanons: 

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who always insists on “helping” his Darling, and whatever group she happens to be in. ‘Ah, you’re on kitchen duty today. Well it's a good thing that my Mother taught me to cook.’ & ‘Barn raising? Surely your tiny frame is no match for such a strenuous job. Here, allow me.’ 

You don’t like feeling helpless, but you couldn’t say ‘no’. That would be such a rude thing to deny the very Savior of your people. 

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard, who is always so kind, and attentive. One who chooses to spend most of the free time he has at gatherings putting the spotlight on his Darling so that he may listen to her speak. ‘Hmm, what an interesting Speaker tradition, Sypha. Tell me, (Y/N), what sort of traditions remind you of home?’ 

You’re running out of things to share with him, it seems everything you could say about yourself he seems to already know.

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who memorizes every little detail his Darling shares, and uses it to his advantage, all the while pretending such occurrences are mere coincidence. ‘I found these flowers blooming on the other side of the castle and I thought of you. Truly? How lucky, I had no idea these were your favorite flowers.’ & ‘Hmm, now that you mention it, I believe Mother had an old dress in that color. Why don’t you wait here while I go and fetch it for you?’ 

The dress fits perfectly, huh. How odd that you and Alucard’s mother must have been the same size. 

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who “lets it slip” in conversation with Trevor and Sypha just how madly in love he is with his Darling, prompting his married friends to conspire together, coming up with ways to make you see Alucard’s love. ‘I can only hope she shares the same affection, although I must admit, I am unsure of how to tell her of my feelings.’ ‘& ‘Do you mean to say you’ll help me win her devotion?’ 

Did Sypha always talk up Alucard like that? Trevor sure keeps talking an awful lot about being married, even for a newlywed. 

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who always speaks your praises to the children, about how smart, loving, and fun you are so that when they call on him to play games, they’re always scheming to get you to play as well. ‘I must admit I’ve pondered over whether I have the ability to have my own.’ & ‘Don’t believe I haven’t seen the way you light up when the children call you Mother.’ 

Wait? Don’t they also call Alucard, Father?

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who insists on caring for you by himself, anytime you become the least bit injured or ill. He insists you stay within the walls of the castle for the time being, as opposed to in your cottage with your family outside. ‘I know the castle can feel overwhelming at times, but please, try to think of it as a mere extension of your home.’ & ‘I do wish you’d let me take better care of you, Darling. You’re too important of a person around here to be laid out sick so often.’ 

You didn't used to fall ill so often. What the hell is happening to you?!

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who makes a very public display of asking for your hand, one evening during a solstice festival. All eyes are on you as you smile, and you a faint chorus of applause as you accept the dhampir’s proposal. ‘It would be my utmost honor to marry you, my Darling.’ & ‘You are making me the happiest man alive.’ 

Not as if you could say no with all the other villagers and your family watching. They want this for you too, so, this marriage must be a good idea, right?

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who arranges for you to be wed as soon as possible. One of the castle’s largest halls is transformed into a makeshift chapel as Sypha performs the wedding rites. Greta acts as your Maiden of Honor, while Alucard slots Trevor in as his Best Man. All of the villagers- your family included- are there to watch the ceremony, with laughter and joyful tears in their eyes. ‘I know it’s not a church wedding, Darling. But you understand, I doubt we’d find a Priest anywhere willing to marry the son of Dracula.’ 

You look like royalty in the dress Alucard provided you, so you try to ignore how the cuffs of your dress’s bishop sleeves feel like weighted shackles upon your wrists. 

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who promises you can’t get pregnant the first time you have sex. He’d know of course, silly! His Mother was a Doctor after all. Just let him love you… No, let him worship you, mind, body, and soul. ‘Besides, I’m quite certain dhampirs are sterile. It would take a miracle for us to make a child together.’ & ‘Even if it were to happen, it’s not the end of the world, is it? We are wedded after all.’  

If that’s not a goal, why does he insist on always flipping you over so that he can watch your expression as he finishes inside you? 

A Yandere! Village Leader Alucard who swears you will make incredible parents, and he could not be happier to have a large family with you. You have so much knowledge and wisdom to impart, creating this legacy with him is a great act of service for the world. And Alucard promises, as soon as you’re done having his children, maybe two or three, he’ll change you into a vampire so that you can enjoy the fruits of your labor at his side- forever. ‘Just imagine it, Darling. Neither one of us will be lonely ever again.’ & ‘We’ll be each other’s soulmate for all eternity.’ 

Surely, eternity isn’t all that long. 

Right?

A/N: I hope you liked it! I was trying a different style/format here, so I apologize if it isn't what you expected. My mom’s having surgery this week, so I didn’t get as much writing/editing time as expected. 

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[razorblade180]

Not really in the mood for writing a prompt so I’m just gonna ramble about how cool Weiss is in TSF AU

I basically made her the closest thing to a witch I could without stepping into magic territory. It always bugged me how her semblance and Dust was so compatible but it was never tested to its limits, so I imagine Weiss learned to basically be a pro in the field of dust manipulation. Has a real intuitive sense for it, which is why her kids are so good for their age. A lot of it stems from always getting unarmed in battle.

She learns that she can grab a dust cartridge and put a glyph at the end of it to pull it out and construct things like a saber of pure Dust. Eventually she gets creative enough to throw vials and catch them with glyphs to trigger timed explosions.

In crystal form, Weiss gets the hang of making glyphs and simply pushing the crystal into it to create a flame thrower affect. The most reckless and dangerous trick is using the refined powder state. Even with gloves on, the margin for error when throwing or outlining a pattern with it is small cause a chain reaction could lead the effect back to her hands.

Dust for water isn’t actually a thing, but through countless trail and error, Weiss knows how combine fire and ice Dust to create the desire effects. She even helped researcher and companies create vials with ratios already mixed so other huntsman and individuals could have access to the element.

Is the one who helped teach her brother how to use their semblance. Also started the idea along with Ruby to plan “hunting trips” where Weiss or any of her relatives would go off to kill a powerful a Grimm to add to their summon abilities.

Weiss has in fact killed a dragon. Took her an entire month and she did it for free. She learned create magma during this time and gained a fondness for more practical uses of rock Dust. Eventually she learned to make constructs out of most materials. Even lightning.

Is the manger and agent for both of her children when it comes to their professional lives. Most collaborative works don’t make it past her before she even thinks about bringing them up to her kids.

Regularly considered Penny’s science partner in the study of Dust and its utility. One of them is also pitching ideas to the other and showing rough blueprint ideas. Their most popular hit and meaningful success is modern dust weaving into clothes. Suddenly, winters in Mantle weren’t as harsh and Weiss’s daughter could live an easier life with her condition.

Helped fund Oscar’s therapy practice. Was also his first patient. Some might conflict of interest. Those people don’t know Oscar “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it” Pine. Was a super big help in her darker moments after adjusting to parenthood and old family trauma.

Occasionally surprises her friends and family with appearing in a modeling catalog or runway. It helped her gain some confidence back after having twins. She also likes to make a point that Jaune’s wife is incredibly hot so there’s no point in random women thinking he’s going anywhere, and to make any guy that looked down on him feel shame. Jaune matches the energy by also looking gorgeous when the opportunity arises.

Weiss also makes no effort to hide any scars. That includes wearing a half shirt or bikini that shows where Cinder stabs her or the two scars on her face. That way her daughter and even her brother, feel more comfortable about their scars.

If you ask her what her biggest sacrifice is, it’s making sure she never matches hairstyle or clothes with her daughter. Weiss kinda misses the ponytail but Summer will look at her a little funny despite them not being the same kind. Eventually Summer will stop caring and rationalize they look alike regardless of anything they do. They’re both just two pretty ladies other people get jealous of. She doesn’t have this attitude with Winter!!!

The top of everyone’s emergency contact list. Also the only adult aside from Ruby that every child (except her own daughter) feels immensely comfortable with emotionally. Even Yang’s kid is pretty soft around Weiss. Practically karma for how much Weiss’s son adored Yang when he was little.

[blookmallow]

i have no idea how i arrived at this train of thought but my brain wont let me sleep so somehow i started thinking about… OCs Described As Writing Utensils? i dont know it makes more sense when you read them ok

venus: a quill made from a peacock feather, dipped in gold and coated in diamond dust

dahlia: a fairy’s quill, from a hummingbird feather. it writes in purple and smells like berry wine

mayzie: a candy pen. no, really, it’s Made of candy. it writes in some kind of horrendous sticky red syrup that smells like cherry and oozes everywhere. the eraser is just a marshmallow and does nothing but spread the candy goo around even more. your hand gets covered in sugar and glitter just touching it. everything is sticky. this is a nightmare

celina/cesare: a beautiful two-sided silver pen. the middle is glass with intricate metal filigree around it, so you can see the ink swirling around inside. it never seems to run out. if activated by magic, one side writes of ethereal dreams, and the other, cryptic secrets. whether they are the dreams and secrets of a particular being, or gathered from many, is unknown.

chris: a tablet pen that writes with light instead of ink, and works telepathically- it can only write and erase at the owner’s will. also functions as a regular tablet pen with any device, and doubles as a flashlight

kadri: a bone with an eyeball (from what, you ask? dont ask so many questions.) set in one side and a sharp point at the other that immediately sets any paper on fire if you try to write with it. “why would you have this,” people ask you, “where did you even get this,” they ask, “it’s watching me,” they complain, “i think it wants to hurt me,” “i can hear it whispering when i try to sleep at night,” blah blah blah, they’re all just jealous of your cool evil bone pen. you can sort of scratch words into things if you work at it enough. the letters always seem to start dripping blood whenever you do that, though. weird.

kalidasa: a smooth black stone slab with a beautiful glossy surface your eyes get lost in if you look at it for too long. your thoughts appear in white, smokey letters if you focus your mind on it. sometimes other things appear, too. you shouldn’t worry about those things.

damian: an elegant but dusty quill made from a raven’s feather, with an inkbottle filled with blood laced with arsenic. there was no reason to add the arsenic, but you just have so much arsenic

dreyden: an old, dented pen you’ve had for ages. it still mostly works. you really should replace it, but it’s your favorite. there was a reason you were holding on to it, you’re sure, but you don’t remember why

crow: a rusty jagged piece of metal. you use it to carve your name into things, mostly. you like the horrific metallic screeching sound it makes when you scrape it against stuff. it isn’t really a pen, but you barely know how to write, anyway

laelia: a glitter gel pen with a mutilated barbie head stuck on the end of it. there’s a crack in one side, so it leaks out on your hands, and the sharp broken edge stabs into your skin if you try to write with it. come to think of it, you’re not entirely sure this is ink. it smells like motor oil and sulfur

roach: a soft, moldy crayon. you’re pretty sure crayons aren’t supposed to go bad, much less grow mold, but this one is definitely rotting. it’s dissolving in your hands before you can even write anything. the stains it leaves won’t wash out for weeks, and it leaves your hands itching and inflamed.

sage: an antique wood and brass pen that doesn’t work anymore, but for some reason you’re still holding onto it. it’s not worth enough to sell. there’s a name on it, but its so worn away you can’t read it. you don’t know who it belonged to- you found it half buried on the beach years ago. but somehow, it feels like it matters.

johnny: a busted up paint pen held together with a hello kitty bandaid that leaks everywhere but you keep insisting on keeping it anyway. you’ve had it for like 10 years and it still works somehow. you call it Kevin. kevin is always there for you

clive: an expensive but somehow terrible artist pencil. its extremely thin and the lead breaks every couple minutes and leaves graphite dust everywhere whenever you use it. it doesn’t have an eraser. why do you still have this. you dont even use it for art, you just write grocery lists and the occasional terrible poem. just get a normal pen

malkin: your ex’s favorite pen. you don’t remember if you stole it, or if they left it behind, or maybe you borrowed it, but you didn’t mean to take it, not really, and it’s too late to give it back, but you don’t want to, you hate them, they don’t deserve it, or maybe you keep it because it reminds you of them, or maybe it’s just a nice pen, that’s all, it doesn’t even matter anyway, you could replace it any time, but you won’t just yet, not right now, not yet,

lex: an obnoxious sparkly pen that gets glitter on your hands and everywhere else every time you use it. you left it in your friend’s bed once (dont ask what you were doing there) and he’s still trying to get the glitter out of the sheets. you’ve been using it to write diaries and doodles for years, and it’s finally starting to run out. you use it less and less, every time hoping it still works, and every time it seems to have just enough left. for some reason, the thought of it dying upsets you more than it should.

zack: a zombie pen you found at some off brand halloween store years ago. it used to make zombie groan sounds, but it’s broken now and just makes a horrible high pitched electronic screech instead. you never use it for writing but it is your most favorite pen in the world and everyone hates you for it which makes it your favorite even more than before

[fruitmouse]

maybe one day he/she will make a comeback. just maybe

[miupow]

UNDER THE MOON

★ pairing。lee felix x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! demon!felix , witch!reader , magic , breeding kink , unprotected sex , sub to dom , oral (f. rec) , vaginal fingering , cowgirl position , mating press , creampie , overstimulation , dacryphilia , squirting , breast play , marking , size kink , monster cock felix lol , dirty talk , praise kink , degredation kink , name calling , power play , bulge kink , orgasm control , strangers to ???

★ synopsis。you accidentally summoned the wrong demon , but you won't let that get in the way of getting what you want.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! this is my second longest fic to date, wow... i hope you all enjoy ! [ 5. 5k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

any respectable, well-to-do witch knows that the perfect time to summon a demon is during the full moon. that was when the boundary between the living and the otherworldly was at its most blurred, and a person's magical ability was especially potent– you could feel it thrumming through your body just under your skin, concentrating at your fingertips, just begging to be released. accompanied by your excitement and nerves, you felt simply alight with power.

even then, you still couldn’t believe you managed to summon a demon.

the force of the summoning makes him fall flat on his ass, thick black smoke filling up your bedroom and snuffing out your ritual candles– you can only get a good look at him once the smoke clears out of your open window, the moonlight illuminating his form in the darkness. the first thing you notice are his mismatched eyes, wide and wild as he takes in his new surroundings; one was a deep dark brown, the other an icy steel blue, his pupils slit like a feline’s. his otherworldly beauty takes your breath away, a smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones, heart shaped face framed by curled black horns and platinum hair that cascades down to his shoulders; his inquisitive gaze travels to the summoning circle he was laid out on, ancient runes etched into your hardwood floor, and then to you, peering down at him from the edge of your big pink bed.

“h-how did you do that?!” the demon finally asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. his thick aussie accent surprised you— you didn’t think demons could have accents other than whatever one they have in hell. “where did you learn how to do that?” 

“hello to you too,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “i summoned you here with my family spell book.”

“spell book?” he echoes, taking another look around your frightfully girly bedroom— he’s quick to spot a rather old-looking tome left open on the floor near where he sat in the summoning circle, propped up with a beady-eyed stuffed animal. 

“it’s been in my family for generations.” you stand to pick the spell book up off the floor, dusting the smoke residue off the pages. 

the demon blinked up at you, odd eyes raking over the lacey little nightgown you were wearing. “you, um, don’t really look like that kind of girl...” 

“the kind to be a witch?” you laugh. “i just summoned you here, didn’t i? listen, i need your help.”

“my help? with what?” he moves to stand up as well, patting down his crumpled leather vest— he’s much, much taller than you expected him to be.

you hide your gulp with a dramatic scoff. “i want to make a deal with you, idiot; what else would i have summoned you for?! that’s what you do with demons, isn’t it? and, like, sign over your firstborn or whatever.” 

the demon stares at you in abject disbelief for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. “you humans are so stupid…” he mutters under his breath. “i’m not even that kind of demon. i can’t make any ‘deals’ with you.”

“bullshit! what do you mean you can’t make deals with me?!” you retort, crossing your arms. “the spell specifically said it would summon an entity that would make all my dreams come true!”

the demon blanches and stutters, his freckled cheeks turning pink. for some reason, you didn’t think that demons could blush. “um… well, about that…” he laughs nervously. “i’m an incubus. not the kind of demon you’re looking for, i think… i’m not even that good of an incubus, to be honest with you…”

you cock your head, watching as the demon shuffles his feet, his pointed black leather boots scuffing up your floor. “why do you say that?”

“i’ve never been summoned like this before, by a mortal…” he admits softly, his blush deepening. “i’ve never been in the human realm at all before; i’m supposed to be using you mortals to strengthen my powers, prey on you in your sleep… but i’m just too nervous! you humans frighten me… the other incubi make fun of me for it. i’m a terrible demon, you probably need to summon someone different…”

his sad pout was so cute for a demon from hell, and you can’t help but giggle a little meanly at the incubus’ plight. “you’re a virgin incubus? i never thought there was such a thing…”

the demon scowls, his pretty face screwed up in a way that wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. “don’t laugh at me.” he whines petulantly, “i could kill you right now if i wanted to.”

“sure you could, loser virgin incubus.”

the demon’s scowl deepens, trying very hard to keep his odd eyes from wandering their way down to your breasts, pushed up in your nightie by your crossed arms. “shut up. don’t call me that.”

“what should i call you then?” you snicker. you can’t help but revel in the way the demon’s eyes eat you alive— while he seems gentle and harmless, the way his mismatched eyes seem to glow with something dark and venomous when he looks over you leaves you shivering. something darker seemed to be hiding just under the surface of this seemingly innocent incubus… and you yearned to discover just what that was.

“felix. my name is felix.” the demon— felix-- mumbles to his shoes. he seemed to have noticed that you’ve caught on to his staring, anxiously avoiding eye contact. cute.

“that’s not a very demonic name.” you remark playfully. “i like it, though. it suits you, felix.”

felix huffs and rolls his eyes, but you can see the beginnings of a shy smile tug at the corner of his lips, his sharp, vampire-like teeth poking out in an oddly endearing way. you won’t let his cuteness distract you, though— you took all this time and effort to summon him, and you were determined to not let it get wasted.

“so… do you have any cool powers or anything?” you press, “like, could you maybe… make somebody fall in love with me?”

felix blinks owlishly down at you. “um… what?”

“listen, there’s this guy on campus i like, right? he’s my roommate’s best friend and he’s just so dreamy… but he’s in love with this girl i can’t stand. it’s like he’s obsessed with her, it’s disgusting.” you huff, curling your lip. “i just want him to forget about her and see what he’s missing! can you make him fall in love with me or something, like cupid? make him obsessed with me instead— you can do that, right?”

“er, well, kind of—”

“you can? perfect!” you clap your hands excitedly. “do i just need to tell you his name, or—”

“wait, wait—” felix interjects with a flustered stutter, “hold on a moment! w-what’s in it for me? i don’t go around doing favors for free, you know.”

you think for a moment, an ingenious and devilish idea quickly forming in your head as you slide your gaze down felix’s fit body. you never expected hell’s demons to be so drop-dead gorgeous, but you supposed it made sense with him being an incubus and all… slowly your lips pull into a devious grin. sure, you summoned the wrong demon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do your bidding anyway.

“you want to be a better incubus, right? want the other demons to stop making bullying you?”

“well, yes…”

“i can help you.” you offer, taking a step closer to the nervous demon in front of you. “i can teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a human… if, in return, you use your little demon powers to help me out.”

it takes felix a second to process just what you’re proposing, his eyes widening comically and his mouth dropping open in a gape. the blush on his freckled cheeks now burns crimson red, all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “wh- wait, really, you— with me?!”

you nod with a sensual smile, taking another slow step forwards; just close enough to reach out and run a finger down his chest. “you help me and i’ll help you, okay?”

felix’s eyes flicker down to your lips, his adam’s apple bobbing with his gulp, and you can see it on his face when his flimsy resolve crumbles. “you’re lucky you summoned one of hell’s nicer demons, no other demon would ever agree to something like this— mmffh!”

you grab him by the lapels and pull him into a kiss in the middle of his sentence, his last words smothered on your soft and persuasive lips. he returned your kiss with reckless abandon, whimpering into your mouth. he was far too good of a kisser to be as inexperienced as he claimed, the tenderness leaving your knees weak and your thoughts spinning. a thin string of spit connects your wet lips when you pull away for air, snapping when felix darts a forked pink tongue out to lick his bottom lip in a daze.

“wow…” he whispers in awe, his sparkling eyes gazing at you through lowered lashes. “kissing humans is so much better than i thought it would be…”

his lips recapture yours, more demanding this time as that sinful forked tongue coaxed your lips open and explored the recesses of your mouth. the savage intensity of it sends a shock wave through your entire body, your senses short-circuiting— you tear your lips from his, quickly turn him around and push him onto your pink floral mattress. once again, you nearly succumbed to his distractions.

felix lets out a huff when his backside hits the bed, confusion paralyzing him just long enough for you to begin slowly undressing.

“woah, a little impatient, are you?” felix laughs, “you humans can never take anything slow…ly…”

he grows quiet as you slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, the thin lace fabric pooling around your ankles. it left you completely bare except for a pair of tiny cotton panties, a little wet spot already visible in the white fabric. he ogles at your tits, round and perky with your nipples beginning to harden in the cool air.

his hungry gaze roamed over your figure, taking in your soft curves and tummy, dropping to follow your hands as you pull your panties down your thighs. they join your nightgown on the floor, and felix gets his first look at your pussy as you step out of them and kick them to the side.

“wow… you are so… beautiful.”

the sincerity in which he says it makes both your heart and your pussy flutter. you can’t hide your eagerness as you saunter forwards and begin to climb up on felix’s lap. “are you ready for your lesson?” you purr into his ear, your hand sliding up his thigh towards the growing bulge in his pants. just the size of the bulge alone makes your head spin— and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“h-hold on,” felix whimpers, grabbing your wrist, “you’re so small and, you know.. human sized… shouldn’t i, um, prep you? i don’t want to hurt you, i’m not one of those kinds of demons.”

you look back down at his bulge, just out of your reach with his fingers around your wrist. “that’s probably a good idea…”

you slide off his lap, positioning yourself in the middle of your bed; you rest your head among all your pillows and stuffed animals, all cute and cuddly and nothing at all like the dark energy that filled the room, the wicked smile on your face as felix crawls up the bed and in between your parted legs. he stares enthralled at your pussy, spread open all for him to admire— his hands come to grasp at the meat of your thighs, seemingly trying to ground himself as he takes everything in.

“oh, fuck,” he croaks, mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight, “you’re already so wet, it’s dripping all over the sheets… it’s beautiful. have you been wanting me this whole time?”

your words get stuck in your throat, shuddering in arousal as you nod coyly down at him. he screws his eyes shut and lets out a deep, pathetic groan. 

“god, you’re so fucking sexy… i never thought i could get so aroused by a mortal.”

“i’m sorry, whose name was that?” you joke, still feeling mischievous even as your heart rattled in your chest. felix shoots you an irritated glare.

“oh, be quiet.”

he shuts you up with another searing hot kiss, demanding and passionate, and his stout fingers moved to tease at your wet, sticky folds. you gasp against his lips, squirming beneath him; the gentle stroking of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through you, your pussy clenching around nothing but air.

“i���m not sure what to do…” felix mumbles, breaking your kiss to graze his lips across your jawline. “i’ve never done anything like this before… will you show me how to make you feel good?”

“just touch me,” you plead. “i want your fingers inside of me, please—”

felix starts with just one, short but deliciously thick as he slowly pushes it into your fluttering hole. “fuck, you’re so tight…” the stretch makes you cry out and claw at his shoulders, finally having something inside to ease the ache after being so needy for so long.

felix freezes with his finger buried inside to the knuckle, glancing down at you nervously. “did i hurt you?”

“no, no, feels so good—“ his hesitation would be cute if you weren’t so worked up, desperately grinding your cunt against his hand. “now move it in and out, nice and slow…”

he follows your directions dutifully, his movements slow and unsure, and despite his inexperience and anxiety, he quickly found a rhythm that flooded your shivering body with dizzying desire. waves of ecstasy crashed through you as you bucked your hips to meet his finger, whimpers and whines of delight falling from your open, panting mouth. his fingertip brushes your spongey sweet spot, electricity rippling under your skin and sending shockwaves through your core as you moaned in sweet agony.

“am i doing good, little human?” felix breathes shyly against your ear.

his eagerness to please made your pussy throb around him, sucking his finger in deeper—he was a quick learner, paying special attention to your sweet spot as you gushed slick all over his hand. “i think i am, you’re even wetter than before, it’s so noisy,” he accentuates his claim with a curl of his finger, the obscene wet squelches of your pussy ringing in your ears. “just look how well you’re taking it…is it okay if i add another finger?”

“yes! yes, fuck yes, please—”

he slides another fat finger in along with his first, his big eyes watching as he stretched your tight pussy out even wider for the cock you all but ached for. you sob in pleasure as he quickens his pace, curls his fingertips harder against your sweet spot. “wow, you can barely take two of my fingers..” the demon above you murmured in faux concern, “i don’t know if my cock will fit.”

you throw your head back with a lustful moan.

“tell me what you want from me.” he continues in a deep rasp, his accent only adding to the desire in his voice, “tell me what to do to make you cum.”

“t-touch my clit!” you hiccup, pretty manicured nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

you expect another finger, maybe his palm—what you don’t expect is for felix to trail soft kisses down your chest and belly, lower and lower until his plump lips were hovering over the curve of your pussy.

“wh-what are you doing?!” you squeal as felix kicks your legs over his shoulders, “do you even know what you’re doing down there?!”

“no.” felix shakes his head with a grin before diving his head between your thighs.

he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, his long tongue dragging up between your folds to circle the bud with shocking precision. he sucks gently on your clit while his fingers pump deep inside of you, his pretty moans and groans muffled with his face pressed against your squelching pussy. “you taste so good,” felix mumbles, his wide, mismatched eyes blinking up at you to take in every one of your reactions. “fuck, i love this pussy so much… think you can take another finger?”

he presses in a third finger before you can even respond, pussy stretched past your limits as you sob out in pleasure. it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, his fingers quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he licks your clit and slurps up your juices. the flames of passion raged through your very being, and you abandon yourself to the knot tightening deep in your belly. you haven’t felt pleasure like this in ages, yelping as felix sucks particularly hard at your clit, and without thinking your arms dart down to grab ahold of his twisted black horns. the growl felix lets out against your heated skin is obscene, dark and beastly as he buries his face farther into your cunt, quickens the pace of his fingers against your sweet spot. “fuck yes, nasty girl, that’s it— grab my horns and just take it!”

you use your grip on his horns to buck wildly against his face, the knot in your belly threatening to snap as felix pulls his fingers out to grab your hips tightly. his clawed fingers dig painfully at your flesh, but it only heightens your sense of pleasure as he shoves his tongue deep into your wet hole. he tongue fucks your pussy with vigor, his groans and growls growing deeper and more demonic as he fucks you to your climax. “pussy’s so fucking good, can’t get enough…”

“felix!” you squeal when the forked tip of his tongue brushes against your sweet spot. “felix, i’m close, i’m gonna cum--!”

“say my name again, scream it!” felix crows with his face still buried in your cunt, the dark, powerful boom to his voice that hadn’t been there before making you finally hurtled you past the point of now return.

you scream his name as you squirt all over his face, nasty and wet as you ride out your high on his tongue— you’re quickly catapulted into overstimulation, tears pooling in your lashes as you whine and attempt to push him off you by his horns. if anything, that just seems to spur him on more.

“fuck no, i’m not done,” he growls, a dangerous edge to his voice frightening you and making your spent pussy throb all the same. “i need more, can’t stop— need to make you cum again, and again—”

he devours you like an animal, otherworldly strength keeping him flush against you even as you thrash and push roughly at his head. he doesn’t stop until you cum again, soaking his face and your sheets in sweet sticky slick— your pathetic cries seem to snap him out of it, hastily tearing himself away from your trembling little pussy to look up at you in worry and alarm.

“i-i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me! i just.. lost control— that was good though, right?”

his pretty pink lips and swollen and wet with your arousal, his freckled cheeks and chin smeared with it, even his nose; he gazes at you with big, watery doe eyes, the opposite of how he had been looking at you when he had his face between your legs. you babble incoherently, scrambled brain unable to string together a single sentence, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of two back-to-back orgasms.

felix smirks. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

his odd eyes snap back to your spent pussy, the primal hunger in his eyes making you throb despite of how spent you already were. “you look so pretty like this, all spent… can you take more? i need to be inside of you, now.”

your own hazy, unfocused gaze lowers to the straining bulge in his leather pants— the size of it makes you dizzy, a little frightened, but your overwhelming need for more outweighs any fear, and you slowly move to prop yourself up. “can i ride you? it’ll be easier for me to, um… take it.”

felix nods excitedly, as obedient as ever as he moves to take your place on the mattress. his platinum hair splays out around his head like a halo, his pretty face so angelic despite the fangs, tongue and horns… the imagery makes you snort.

“alright, you can get on whenever you’re ready— ooh!~”

you swing your leg over his waist without hesitation, straddling him as you begin to tug recklessly at his clothes. you pull his vest and shirt up to his chest, revealing twitching washboard abs that made your mouth water, and loosened his belt and fly. tugging his pants down to his thighs, his red swollen cock slaps wetly against his abs, rock hard and drooling pearly precum from the fat tip. you moan at just the sheer size of it, long and thick with the prettiest pulsing veins— you’re barely able to fit your hand around it when you reach down to take ahold of him, relishing in the low whimper felix lets out. you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, watching in rapture as more precum leaks from the head and slicks up your hand. it aids in the slide of your tight fist, felix groaning out pathetically as your other hand slides up your belly to pinch and roll your budding nipple.

you slide his cock between your pussy lips, your slick and his precum mixing together to make a sticky mess. you let his cockhead brush against your clit, the sudden shock of pleasure making the both of you moan— felix’s hands are shaking when they shoot up to take ahold of your waist. the lust on his face makes your tummy turn, the tenderness and sincerity in which he gazed up at you. “if it’s ever too much, tell me, please?” he breathes, his thumbs stroking the flushed skin. ”forget about the deal.”

you open your mouth to answer, but find yourself unable to speak; his tip catches your entrance, the sheer size of it pushing against your hole leaving you breathless and stuck in a silent scream. it feels so much bigger than three fingers, more than anything you think you’ve ever taken, and you freeze in a confusing mix of frightened and aroused.

“shh, don’t be scared, human,” felix coos, his steady hands keeping you firm against his cockhead. he squeezes your waist reassuringly. “i’m not going to hurt you, i promise.”

his tip slides inside with a pop, the gummy walls of your pussy gripping onto him like a vice as he steadies himself and slowly starts pushing in— the burning pain of the stretch is quickly overshadowed by a flood of pulsing red hot desire, drawing you to a height of passion you had never known before. never had any lover made you feel this way, trembling with ecstasy as your greedy pussy sucked in more and more of felix’s demon cock. “you feel so good, you’re so warm, so tight— such a good girl, taking all this cock!” felix keens, eyes rolling back into his head as you take him all the way to the base, his shiny mouth falling open in a desperate string of moans when his cockhead kisses snug against your cervix. “oh fuck, you took it all!”

you both take a moment to relax and adjust, catching your breaths as you pant into each other’s faces; felix waits patiently until you’re breathing goes steady and you unclench your pussy around him, begin to squirm needily in his grasp. “okay, you can start whenever you’re ready—"

like a woman possessed, you start bouncing on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, his fat tip hitting so dizzyingly deep inside of you with every movement of your hips. felix throws his head back with a broken cry, his hands flying down to grip harsh fistfuls of your ass as you ride him. “oh fuck, you should have warned me! fuck fuck fuck, slow down!”

you’re deaf to his cries, unable to focus on anything other than the explosive pleasure that coursed through your core; you plant your feet on the mattress to help strengthen your bouncing, so fast and rough nasty wet slaps echoed throughout the room every time your ass met his pelvis. “you’re so fucking big, so deep inside of me!” you whine.

“you’re just using me like a toy… are you feeling good, baby? yeah?” felix whimpers, voice weak and wavering, “n-naughty little girl likes being full of big, fat demon cock? o-oh god, you’re going to ruin me…”

you answer him with a wail, crying out his name once again as you claw red scratch marks down felix’s taut, muscular chest and abs. the sting just seems to make him harder, his cock twitching inside of you as he moans in pain and pleasure. his noises border on animalistic, deep snarls and growls that go right to your pussy. his mismatched eyes lock onto your chest, your perky tits bouncing obscenely in his face, and he licks his lips with that dastardly snake-like tongue.

“perfect girl, perfect pussy, perfect little tits— do you want me to play with them? suck on them? tell me what you want and i’ll do it.”

“please,” you sob, “please make me feel good!”

felix pulls you down so your body is flush with his, his hands leaving your ass to pinch and roll your nipples. his grip on your breast is bruising as he squeezes and fondles, pulling one into his wet hot mouth— the combined stimulation of his fingers and his mouth on your puffy nipples sending your senses into overdrive, the new angle making his cock feel even deeper inside of you than before, carving out space in your tummy as you moan in delight. he bites down gently on your nipple, pointy teeth teasing your bud, his plump lips and talented tongue caressing as they slowly move from sucking your swollen, peeking bud to trailing down the swell of your tit. he kisses a searing path up your sternum, leaving dusky purple marks in his wake as his hands continue their onslaught on your tits, massaging and groping with tantalizing ferocity. “why do you taste so fucking good? every single inch of you is delicious…” felix murmurs against your fiery skin, his canines ghosting over your collarbones, “you marked me up, pretty girl, now i have to return the favor… i could just eat you whole.”,

“fuck me!” you squeal, dripping pussy spasming around felix’s fat cock as you crash your hips down onto his. “fuck me, please, need it harder!”

“fuck, don’t say things like that— it’s taking everything i have to stay in control, baby, pussy’s so good! i-i’m being gentle for your sake, if i could have you how i want you i’m afraid i might break you—”

his words go straight to your cunt, lighting a fire of need inside of you; with an evil little smile you suddenly stop bouncing, your ass flush against his hips as you begin grinding tight little circles. felix tears himself away from your spit-soaked chest, utterly debauched as he gazes up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “n-no, wait, why are you stopping!?”

“i want you to break me, felix,” you purr with a sharp glint in your eye, teasing over his scratch marks with the tips of your fingers. “i want you to lose control and let me have it, please—”

in an instant you’re thrown across the bed, your back hitting your mattress knocking the wind out of you, and he’s on top of you before you can catch your breath. his claws snatch ahold of both your legs and tosses them over his shoulder, folds you over as he resheathes his throbbing cock back inside your gaping, drooling pussy. with inhuman strength he takes complete control over your body, trapping you beneath him and leaving you helpless, unable to do anything other than lay there and take it as he rams his cock inside of you. his bulbous cockhead knocks against your cervix so hard you fear he’ll push through, such a witty girl brainless and fucked stupid split open with his cock nestled deep in your tummy.

“you never wanted it slow and gentle, did you angel?” felix goads, his deep voice gaining an echoing, demonic edge. “you wanted me to treat you like a slut from the very beginning… such a nasty little witch.”

his mismatched eyes catch on the little bulge his cock makes in your tummy, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust; he presses down on your tummy with a devilish grin and a moan, able to feel his cockhead pounding up in your guts. “you feel me right here, don’t you baby?”

“s-so d-deep—!” is all you can manage to whimper, your teary eyes threatening to spill from the overwhelming pleasure.

felix coos at your fucked out face, his sharp nails digging into the meat of your thighs in a disorienting mix of pain and pleasure. “so cute, taking my cock so well… will you let me cum inside? i want to— i need to fill you up with my cum.”

“yes, yes— god, i’m gonna cum, please!” you beg, any last shred of dignity leaving in favor for your impending climax. your need for release clouded your mind, unable to think of anything except for creaming around felix’s cock as he shoots a hot load inside of you.

“who? god’s not here, baby.” felix crows, mirroring your own joke with a chuckle. you don’t have the energy to even get mad at him. “just us— now tell me how badly you want this demon to cum inside of you. be a good girl and beg for it… maybe i’ll give you that firstborn you want so badly?”

your tears finally fall as you surrender completely to uncontrollable ecstasy, sobbing for felix to breed you as his hips grow sloppy. he’s so close to the edge, just as much as you— you can feel it in the shuddering of his body, his broken whimpers, the tightness in his heavy balls as they slap against your ass. you grab fistfuls of the bed sheets to ground you, keep you from floating away entirely as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“cum together with me, angel,” felix pants above you, thrusting as deep as he could inside inside your pussy, “cum on my cock as i put a baby in you—!”

you cum all over his cock in a rush of exalted endorphins, your pussy spasming violently with your third and most powerful orgasm of the night. your gummy walls clamp down around his shaft, trying to push him out and suck him in deeper at the same time; you can see a foamy white ring formed around the base when he pulls out to thrust back in, a sticky and creamy mess down his balls and thighs. finally, with an animalistic grunt, felix stills inside of you to add to the mess, hot thick ropes of seed flooding your womb until you overflowed. you’ve never felt so full in your life, slick and cum oozing out around where felix’s cock stayed buried deep inside of you. you ride out the aftershocks in each other’s arms, falling into an intimate embrace as you both work to catch your breath.

“fuck, look at that…” felix whispers after a long moment of silence, his hips moving gently to thrust loosely. more cum leaks out from where you were joined, the both of you moaning at the sight. “there’s so much cum it’s leaking out… a-are you okay? was that good?”

“good?! that was the best sex i’ve ever had in my life—” you reply, moving to prop yourself up, but felix pushes you back down with urgency.

“no, no baby, don’t move, you gotta keep it all inside! stay still while i push it in deeper…”

before you can protest felix begins to wildly pound into your spent pussy again, his cock still rock hard and throbbing against your walls— you cry out in surprise and overstimulation, more exhausted and drained than you’ve ever felt before, yet your greedy pussy opens up for him with ease. he shushes your sobs and hiccups, his caresses gentle but his eyes wild and dangerous… he’s gotten drunk on the power of your love, lost all control to the beast that had been hiding inside of him for so long..

“i don’t think that’s going to be enough… i’m not stopping until i’ve bred you proper, just how you want it, right? we’re not done.”

[hwan-g]

𝑺𝑨𝒀 𝒀𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑵 (18+)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ pair. music professor! chris x fem! reader | genre. teacher/student, chris’ pov, age gap, smut, dark romance, angst | warnings. power imbalance, obsession, flawed characters, profanity, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, graphic sexual content — mdni ! | word count. 8.1k

𐙚˙⋆.˚ synopsis. I’m too weak to let you be, to walk away from you. It’s a twisted, distorted thing, what’s going on inside me. I see no end to it, no relief. Only suffering. I did this to you, my heart, and I cannot apologize. I don’t want to. I’m jealous, I’m jealous, I’m wretched.

I watch you.

That’s a new dress. You walk different in it, your hips sway like you want everyone to notice, and they fucking have. I have. It’s hard not to when you’re so oblivious to your wanting, but I know you, I know what you want. There’s a scarf wrapped around your hair, and the boots you wear make you almost as tall as me, bring you up to my shoulders. I’m jealous of your calves, how they get to carry you all throughout the day, how they lay down with you at night. Your eyes, how they stare at you from every reflection, attached to you, able to see every inch of you from up close.

I’m jealous of your hands, how they brush through your hair as you sit down on the chair across from my desk, the chair you’ve been sitting at for three semesters now, the best view I get to have of you. The only time I’m able to be so close to you without anyone’s suspicion, the only time you’re required to answer to me and all my questions. I have so many of those, but I want to start with your skin. Is it as soft as it looks? When the air blows your way, how would you feel under my palm, shivering, a million tiny goosebumps rising on the surface?

You’re talking to the girl that trails you like a lost puppy, not quite a friend, always around you, yet suddenly I’m glad, because you laugh at something she said, a sound so clear, so light, it lifts the furniture and cures the wood, it builds the room and covers the cracks, pure fucking magic, until all is right again, until I am left with a gaping wound where that beautiful sound nests when it’s gone from the air. It suspends in my head and I let it. I can’t take my eyes off you. You command everything. 

Satie is in your hand, what we’re studying, the copy I gave you, my personal one, with all my marks and annotations. You treat the pages carefully, aware of my watching you, yet you don’t turn to me once. You won’t look at me at all. A beast rattles inside me, begging to grab you, to hold you, to never let go. I haven’t seen you in private for weeks and I’m mad with desire, the urge to bury into your sweet cunt and wrap my hand around your warm throat, feel the pulse there, see the gasp of your mouth, the red of your tongue, your eyes on me, me, me, afraid of what I can do, of the power you give me over you, your attention, the hollow ache in my chest; I’m angry at you for being happy without me while I’m being tormented by your absence, no matter how small, no matter how big, and you still won’t fucking look at me. 

(Y/N). I think of your name how I think of God. This mythical creature that has the ability to save me. Will you? (Y/N). Look at me. Look at me.

“I am tired of always dying with a broken heart.” I speak this from memory and stare directly at the boy who’s been tailing you lately. A mediocre student, unremarkable. Nothing at all.

You can’t possibly entertain him, I’ve already told you this. He doesn’t see you, couldn’t possibly. He’ll fuck you once—even at merely the thought of this I bristle, I want to crack his fucking head open—and move onto the next pretty thing, blind to you, to what you are, to all you have yet to become. It’s unbearable to me that no one seems to realize how incredible you are; your mind, vast in all directions, insightful, and your music compositions, profound and disturbing, the little I’ve taught you and all that you’ve taught me, the way you hold the pen between your fingers, how you curl around your notebook, the way your eyes skim the pages I’ve toiled over for five years, six more prior to becoming a professor, all leading to the beginning of this school year, how you walked in my class and brought me to my knees.

“So dramatic,” someone in the back mumbles. Someone else giggles, a girl I had last year. Mundane.

I wait for your reaction, but it never comes. You stare pointedly down at my book and ignore me. You’re gonna force me to get your attention some way else. You’re punishing me for something, and I’ve no fucking clue what. You want this. Me. Begging for you. Risking everything. My God, look at your wrists, so goddamn delicate, so small. I picture wrapping my hand around them how I did the first time I stopped you from leaving, I picture myself shaking you, demanding to know what’s wrong, making you see how you make my heart bleed.

I need to know you’re okay. I need you to look at me.

“Satie was an absurdly spiritual composer for his time,” I explain, leaning against my desk, crossing my ankles, my arms over my chest. One glance at everyone else, then I stop at you. I speak to you. Let me in. Let me see you, (Y/N). “A very solitary man that was capable of inventing his own religion in order to break further from society. A character like that would be a tad dramatic, albeit entirely genius, yes?”

“How do we study this guy? There’s nothing  to learn from his techniques!” Your friend shook her head, slamming the book in front of her shut. “Child’s play. Overly simplistic. Only two noteworthy compositions in an entire career. Seriously, does anyone know anything besides Gymnopedies by him?”

“Gnossiennes,” another deadpanned. “Your point is shallow. He changed the tides. Music before the work you mention was entirely different from what it was after. Debussy, Poulenc, Ravel—all legendary figures that were deeply impressed by his so-called simplified style.”

A few heads nod in agreement. You remain still as ever, unmovable. What is in that brilliant little brain of yours? Why won’t you share with me? I know you best of all, I’d understand anything. Tell me. Tell me how a girl ruined an already troubled man, and we’re studying it a hundred and thirty-one years later. Tell me about obsession that rules over the mind, of the living digging graves of the dead and hugging their bones, of loneliness so haggard it chokes the air from my fucking lungs. Let me in, and I’ll point at you, my Suzanne Valadon.

“He fell in love once,” barely a sound, barely anything, yet it’s all I hear. I focus on your voice, the lull of it. Your castrating words, my baby. You’re here. You’re burning alive.

“He did.” I jump at the opportunity to talk to you in public. I’d give my blackened soul to hold your hand, to walk you to class. They’ll paint me a monster, but I’d be yours, I wouldn’t care. They’d whisper scandal, unethical, but I’d have stood next to you, defending what I feel for you, knowing very well they’ve only seen a sliver of my monstrous need for you.

This is not enough for me, but I can’t ask for any more of it.

“They tie many meanings to us, meanings that forsaken them, per their request. Satie loved Suzanne, but only because she was the only woman that ever paid him any attention. He wanted to possess her, so that he’d never be alone. It was a selfish love, barely a love at all, more like a torn house looking for an exorcist.”

There you go. Come on. Fight with me on this. Let me hear your voice, wash over me.

“You cannot fault a man, a man of music no less, for the way he loves. We are wicked by nature, we do not possess the softness you do. Even then, Valadon was a painter, as wildly eccentric as him. She refused to be put in a box. She saw only a mirror, and in that way, she saw herself. You could say her love was narcissistic.”

“Bonjour, Biqui, bonjour!” I hear somewhere from the side, but I only see you. I'm tuned in to you, your opinion about what I have to say.

I only ever care about what you think. When I grade your papers, my hands tremble to touch something so precious as your mind. I am the weakest man when it comes to you, I cave in like a house of cards. Pick me up and shuffle me. Toss me across the table, face down. Only use me, let me feel you. Visions of my cock entering you render me blind. Your voice, then. My name on your mouth as I push all the way in, right there on your desk, lights off, door locked. I can’t see no one but you, (Y/N), I’m tortured by the memories.

Can I see you after this? Will you stay? Will you let me lock the door again?

Your eyes scorch me. They light me on fire and leave me to die, I can’t bear the heat of them. How have I wronged you? What did I do to get your hate? And if this is it, then give me all of it, let it be the last thing before an afterlife wandering through a black forest, cursed with only the echo of you. I love you insane, battered and bruised. I love you with a dying breath, a horrible ending.

“Perhaps,” you say and it takes all of my willpower not to crawl to you. “Perhaps they deserved each other, in all their terrible love. Him obsessed, her always leaving. She got married to a banker. He wrote a twenty-eight second, four bar song, after all the portraits and love notes.”

You’re humiliating me. This. What I feel for you. You haven’t been in my office in days, you’ve become a stranger to your soul, and now you come back and shame me. You’ve found someone else. Who is he? Have I seen him? I’ll fucking end him. I’ll kill him, I swear. Don’t fucking test me. You don’t want to see that part of me, you don’t want to see what I’m capable of doing for you. 

“‘Her whole being, lovely eyes, gentle hands,’” You pin me down, you stab into me. “We enter the Romantic Era, page two hundred and seventy-nine. Known characteristics of this movement: a greater emphasis on melody to sustain interest, a focus on the nocturnal, the ghostly, and terrifying…”

I go the entire lecture desperately trying not to stare at your face, that beautiful openness you offered me now tightly shut, entirely passive. How do I survive this, even as I know I am a grown man and should not think this way. I cannot, for the life of me, remember who I was before you walked in this room, what I was doing, why, there was no reason; you, you, you, I was waiting, maybe, an empty train station, and you the flying bullet train, cutting oxygen supply as you passed in front of me, making your stop slowly then all at once, sighing into me, giving me back my life or a semblance of it.

I assign passages and give examples, muscle memory on the piano; I grill the fucking kid that has a crush on you, I make his life miserable, and I think, that’s it, that’s right. You do it to me. You do it to me so easily. This is how it is to love her, man. You’re not made for it, but I am. I’ve survived, and she’ll acknowledge it. I’ll make her.

I sound childish to myself, petty. Truth is, you’re mine. You’re fucking mine. You can’t do this to me.

You jot down notes, you burn through the board, you raise your hand and say all the correct answers, picture perfect student, and I’m as good as dead to you. I’ve been inside you, baby, you can’t forget that. I’ve felt your warm slick clamp around my cock, I’ve had your mouth on my neck moaning my name. You can’t get rid of me. I can’t rid myself of you.

I dismiss the class at eleven sharp, and call you to me. A minute, I say, about the extra credit, even as your friend eyes me, even as the boy glares at me, even as rumors have started to circulate. She’s fucking the teacher, it’s obvious. She’s with him all the time. Except you’re not, not even close, not nearly as much as I want you to be. If I had it my way, I’d hold you to me so tight you’d become an extension of me, unable to escape me whenever you feel like.

I wait until everyone exits, then inconspicuously close the door half way, grab your arm and drag you all the way to the other side of the room. You don’t put up a fight, but your dress has risen on your hips, and I’m suddenly furious. I pull at it and trap you against me and the wall. The lack of reaction sickens me. How is it possible I’ve lost you already?

“What the fuck have I done to you that was so bad, huh?” I speak low so only you can hear, but I’m boiling inside, I’m as dangerous as I’m hurt.

I want to fuck you senseless. Dead. I want to kill you. I want to bury inside you so deep I can’t ever get out. Your breathing pattern changes, you must see it on my face. I don’t feel like being fucked with right now. You’re scared of me, but not really. I would never hurt you. It’s all fantasies, all obsession. I can’t bear the thought of losing you is all, but I need to know what’s going on. This has cost me, it will cost me even more.

I grab you by the hair, tug softly at the ends, and your chin lifts. I trace it. Your eyes widen a fraction but you don’t give in, not yet. I press my erection against you, I breathe like a wild animal. You’re so small in my arms, I could do whatever I want with you. You’d let me. You have already. I just need to find that girl in you again, pull her out.

“I won’t be the teacher’s slut,” you spit out, your lips cherry red and begging to be kissed.

“Too fucking late, isn’t it?”

You try to push me away but I keep you there, your wrists above your head, your face close to mine. I’m lost on you, my mouth goes for the soft skin of your earlobe, I suck on it and feel you melt, I move to your neck and you let me, you’re rubbing your thighs together, you’re begging for friction. I have to close the door. I have to close the door and make sure I’m quick. Classes are still in session on this side of the building. I can’t let myself get sloppy. I’m not gonna risk losing this.

I bite on your neck and you gasp. I’m hard for you. My free hand reaches under your dress, cups you over the thin fabric of your underwear. Wet, goddamn soaked. A string of curses escapes me, as I glance back at the door.

“Stay here, don’t fucking move.”

I take four long strides and lock the damned thing separating us and them, though I know I still have to be quick with you. I held you back in front of the entire class. It’s already been a considerable amount of time for a simple back and forth.

“I can come back later,” you say as I near you again. “After hours.”

In my office, where it’s private and secluded. Where no one will interrupt us or hear us. What you’re suggesting is more sane than what I want to do right now. The logical part of my brain wants to agree. The rest of me lifts your dress and shoves two fingers where I know you want them the most. You writhe against me, and hook your thigh around my hip, opening. That’s it. I knew that’s all you needed. It’d been too long, that was all. I just had to show you how good it is again.

There’s my good girl. Fucking yourself on my digits, your cunt throbbing for my cock.

“I need you, please, please, please, please…”

I cup your breast in my palm, free your nipple with my teeth and bite on it. You hiss, and say my name. I almost finish in my pants, hearing that filthy mouth mutter my name, but your hands are quicker, they’re unzipping and pulling me out, red veins popping, leaking precum, hard as a fucking rock. I want to tear you apart, I want you to feel me for days after.

You jump in my arms and I lift you up. You guide me inside, and I slip into you so easily. A well rehearsed game between us, how fast we can fuck, the thrill of getting caught too great, the adrenaline rushing through my veins pistoling through you, and I pump, I fuck your little soaking cunt until you’re a blabbering mess, until all you can moan is yes yes yes, just like that, right there, right there, and I know where that is, I got you, I’ll take care of you, I’ve done it so many times before.

Where did you think of going? No one can give this to you better than me. You love my cock. There’s no other girl that will do it for me like you do. I tell you this, my forehead dropping to meet yours, your mouth seeking mine. I kiss you, my tongue tasting the strawberry bubblegum you were chewing on earlier, my dick impossibly hard. You’re milking me dry, you’re so horny, I never want to stop, (Y/N).

“I’ll never get sick of how your body responds to me, baby. Come on. I know you’re close.”

You get so whiny when you’re on the verge, your voice raspy from all the hard breathing, and I meet you thrust to thrust, I fuck into you with all I have until I shoot inside you, until my arms give out and I have to lay you on the closest desk, and still I don’t stop, I keep going until I feel your cream, until I reach between us and shove it all inside you, three fingers this time, then kneel down and taste us. You’re so far gone by that point, and I’m distantly aware that we’ve overstayed our time.

I can’t bring myself to care. I want you. I want you so much, my heart is screaming at me. I need to eat you out until you’re coming apart for me again. My hand shoots up and grabs your throat to pull you to sit up, rough, how you like it. Your face is flushed, your hair a mess. I’m proud I got you looking this way. My seed will be inside you for days, you won’t be able to wash it out. I lift your dress once more, your smooth, swollen cunt fucked nice and raw, before I give it a stern slap and bring your underwear over your other leg, dressing you.

We smell like sex. I know we’re not careful anymore. I can’t bring myself to care. Sometimes it happens, it’s a good enough excuse. This, between us. Especially between us. We’re two consenting adults. There was no way to escape you. There was nothing I could’ve done. You grew roots inside me and have been growing ever since.

“Come visit me tonight,” I tell you as I walk you to the door. I unlock briskly, and look outside, left then right. 

No one within earshot.

“Perhaps we should…” I look at you. Whatever’s in my gaze, makes you pause. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t get a reputation, Chris. I won’t.”

“Two minutes ago you told me to call you a good-for-nothing fucking whore as I fucked you dumb. I think we’re past lying to ourselves, yeah, baby?”

You blush and look down. “I just…”

“Do I need to put you on all fours?”

“That’s not fair. You can’t wave sex in my face and get me to stay.”

I retreat like a wounded dog at your feet. “Is that what I’m doing?” I ask you honestly, Heaven and Hell fighting inside me. Yes, one side says while the other soothes, you’ve done only what you know. You’ve been desperate, clinging onto whatever scraps she throws at you.

You kiss me suddenly, your hand resting on the nape of my neck, pulling me down. I move away a burned man. The door is wide open. You study my reaction and sigh. I can’t help but feel this was some sort of test and I just failed terribly.

I have more to lose than you, a regrettable and bitter realization. If the board takes this entirely the wrong way, I could get fired and my license suspended. The power imbalance is too much. If I can’t teach, I won’t be able to see you how I want to. You’ll be here and I’ll be God knows where. You want to protect me. I haven’t been doing the same. I’ve been taking and taking, I’ve been the selfish one.

“Go,” I whisper. “Leave.”

“Chris…we can still—”

“For fuck’s sake, do what you’re told for once!”

You run away from me faster than you ever have before. And for once, I don’t feel like stopping you. My body is another story. My hands tremble at my sides, my fists clenched so tight I’m afraid to move.

I want to hit something. Anything. I want you back here, telling me it’s okay, no one will know, not if we’re careful, not if we keep our distance otherwise. How I say yes, yes, as long as I get to have you like this, as long as I can get lost in you, and how I lay you down, how I never once thought of the consequences then.

Night comes, and we’re back to this. You, knocking softly on my door, and me, forever answering to your summoning, forever bound by the chains that lead only to you. The hallways are dark, the rest of the faculty having locked up long before, probably enjoying dinner in the common room, wondering once again where I am, why I never join them, how I’m no better than the rest, despite teaching Music Theory at one of the oldest universities at my twenty-nine years. I’ve earned my time of solitude. I don’t need to answer to anyone.

Anyone but you, (Y/N).

I hug you to me, and pull you inside, locking behind us. You’re tender in my hands, so impossibly soft, and I feel your melancholy mood, your glistening eyes, full of unshed tears. I wipe at them, I kiss them until they’re mine, I pacify you by whispering your name, very very quietly, my baby girl, so I can convince you that this is real, that you will never lose me, that I have nowhere else to go but you. That I would choose you over and over, that I’m so fucking sorry I ever made you doubt this singular truth.

How I regret meeting you under these circumstances, and if I had it my way, we’d be moving in together by now, we’d be browsing for a couch and a dining table. You laugh at that and call me silly. I don’t care. I got you to laugh, I shook the dreaded uncertainty away. I would do anything for you, my heart.

I sit you down in my chair and get on my knees. Your hand reaches out and I keep mine at your hips, afraid of all the things I want to do to you, with you. Your skirt is black, it reaches just above your knee; all that expanse of naked skin, smooth and unbearable. I rest my head on your lap, the stubble of my jaw rubbing against it, and you shiver, your breath turning quick, excited to have me so close to your core.

“Did you shower?” I ask you, getting hard at the thought of you walking around all day with my scent on every inch of you.

I feel you shake your head, and I smile, kissing the side of your thigh, fingers roaming down down down, the curve of your calf, down down down, your ankle, the delicate bone there. I stretch your leg and kiss all that I can. I smell your arousal, I’m so close to where I wanna be. You exhale a small breath, and I look at you. Your eyes have gone dark, wanting. My baby. I know you. I got you.

“Take your jacket off, let me see you.”

You comply, and I give you time. I make space in my desk, I turn off the lamp, I drench you in absence. All the while my need grows savage, my stomach knots. I feel like a fucking teenager, so eager to slip into warm pussy and never come out. Your warm pussy. For me, only yours.

When I turn around again, you’re taking off your skirt. No underwear. My body goes taunt, I all but fucking growl, as I grab you and smash our mouths together. My fucking girl, mine mine mine, you exist only for me, I’m going to fuck you so good, I’m going to eat you alive.

“I did it for you,” you mumble on my skin, shy, and I put you on the desk, open your legs wide. “I’ve never done it before.”

I dive right into the heat of you. Wet and sweet and slightly musky. So filthy. I love you, every part of me beats this. I love you like this, I love you, I love you. I suck your clit in my mouth, nibble it, bite it. You gasp and moan and move, your fingers in my hair, pushing me away, pulling me closer. You’re a tide, I’m at your mercy. My tongue slips in your hole, and I get to fuck you like this too. I’m so lucky. I’m so fucking privileged that it’s you under me. No one will ever compare again.

You’ve ruined me for everyone else.

What we do after this—you come, violent and thrashing, and I drink every last drop, a thirsty beast at your feet, under trance, under powerful spells and your smell, your smell, baby, your juices. I’m parched. I can’t get enough, I’m greedy, I ache all over; I pull you up and I kiss you. I kiss you and I die. You want to get down, you say, you want me in your mouth. You’re so impatient, so hungry, my love. I deny you nothing.

I grab your hair into a makeshift ponytail and let you undress me. Your fingers, working my buttons, lowering, stroking—I close my eyes, the picture of you etched behind my eyelids—I see you, stuffed with cock, slurped cunt satiated; you’re orgasmic, baby, I contemplate shoving your face on my carpet and taking you from behind, tight and ready for me. I groan, fuck your face until I see white, slapping your red cheeks, spitting in your mouth and shoving myself back in there. You’ve unlocked something primal in me and you’re enabling it, because you love having sex like this, you love being told what to do, you love being manhandled.

At the sight of you crying, I bust. You swallow everything. “Fuck, baby, god fucking damn me…” as I get on your level and wipe your face, lick the salt off your tears, bruise your lips. I take you in my arms and you fall against me, exhausted. I lay you down slowly, an angel being consumed by sin, me the devil, the defiler, and for a moment I’m ashamed; I took you a sophomore, music only your minor, literature your true passion, where your loyalty lied, and I changed your entire plan. I didn’t mean to. I only wanted to keep seeing you, to hear more of what you have to say, to witness it first hand, mere steps from you, so close I could touch, so close I could reach you.

The piano lessons I gave you in those first months, the stolen touches, glimpses of your profile as you learned the keys, as I explained the five finger scale, and then your first song, your second, the way you kept getting better and better, the fastest student I’ve ever had, your ability to write music with no idea how to play it. Teaching you was falling in love with you. It couldn’t have happened any other way. As I stare at you underneath me, hair fanning around your fucked out face, all I wanna do is lay next to you and fall asleep. 

Watching you sleep. Being next to you, trusting me with your eyes closed—I can’t have it like this. You’ve never stayed the night. I’ve never let you. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe from what I’ve dragged you into. It can only go so far until I stop it. I do it with my heart breaking, an open cage. This emotion slams into me, like I’m holding you back from some amazing thing somewhere else, anywhere else, like you could have more; all this could ever be is this dark room with the lock in place, the piano on the side, quiet, in the dead of nothing. You’re attached to a ghost, you love no one.

I’m jealous of your shadow, how it follows you around unbothered, with no shame. My head would hang, a pariah paraded, they’d throw stones, scream names. It’d be all they see, all they’d talk about—see this girl, she’d disappear every evening, and after class, yeah, so many people saw her, she’d chase after him like a lost puppy, what a strange thing—but it was me chasing, it’s me lost, the sick dog begging at your doorstep, the stranger, the disturbing.

“Chris?”

I dig my nails in your hips and lift you up, flip you around, press on your back, your ass flush against my hardening length. I refuse to let you see the monster. I’m too weak to let you be, to walk away from you. It’s a twisted, distorted thing, what’s going on inside me. I see no end to it, no relief. Only suffering. I did this to you, my heart, and I cannot apologize. I don’t want to. I’m jealous, I’m jealous, I’m wretched.

You reach and grab me from behind, rubbing your slick, coating me in your wetness. I’m in shambles, baby, and can’t you tell? You hold me by the balls. I can’t see anything but you. I’m dying. You’re killing me. I enter you, dripping, bleeding. You whimper, backing up to meet me, and I bottom out. Being inside you like this, I’m burning in the last circle of hell. There’s nothing as agonizing, no form of torture more severe. 

It’s here, like this, when I can truly lose myself entirely, where I can let go of any inhibitions; I am not a professor or a member of fuck all, or even a person, I’m nowhere near a man, surely, instead almost completely animal, because I fuck you, I’m getting what I want, I pistol into you, a mad thing, a predator, and I lean my body to cover yours, my mouth breathing hot over your ear, and you’re whining, you’re sobbing onto the carpet, where I’ve taken you over and over and over again, my perfect fucking girl, perfect little whore, how you fucking like it, yeah, just like this, helpless, desperate—yes, yes, please, please, God—I’m going to fucking ruin you, (Y/N), feel this fucking cock, so fucking full of me, baby—I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come, Chris, don’t stop, please, please, please—

“Stop begging,” I groan into your skin, biting your shoulder, lifting you entire as I shove myself in you. “Stop fucking begging. Clamp me. Drain me, baby, come on.”

“I can’t, I can’t—”

I’m digging into you, I’m scavenging, exorcizing. This is the roughest I’ve ever had you, and you’re taking it all so well. I’m swelling with pride, I feel so deeply for how your body receives me that I can’t hold out any longer. You let me come inside every time. I know you’re on the pill, but my mind races, primal instincts and caveman thoughts—you, swollen with my child, naked, always naked, as I slowly make love to you, staring into the face of my truth, my only right, the only thing I can never regret—you’re so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

“I love the way your come drips down my thighs,” you say breathless, lost in your lust. I’m still moving inside you, still so fucking horny for you. “I sound insane.”

I collapse next to you, but keep your back tight against my chest, lifting your leg to keep fucking into your warmth, unable to stop. Sweat runs down my brow. I’m never not impossibly hard for you. No matter how many times I have you, no matter how aggressive I am, how brutal—you take it all, you fucking amazing girl. My death. 

“Tell me,” I rasp. “I could do this all night, (Y/N). Say the fucking word.”

You tilt your neck and kiss me. I salvage your mouth, run my tongue over the roof of it, and your hole engulfs me. Your pussy tightens, refuses to let go.

“Keep fucking me,” you whisper, avoiding my eyes, embarrassed. “I’m so close, Chris.”

“Tell me what you need, baby. Let me hear you.”

You mewl, and turn away from me. I quicken my pace again, this position allowing me to get deeper, and I do, I ram into you hard and fast, just how you like it, and your voice propels me, it drives me crazy, it wraps my arm around your neck and chokes.

“Your cock…I need it so bad, I crave it every night…please, Chris, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop…”

“That’s my fucking girl. Come on, baby, come on…”

I need to fucking taste you, I can’t wait any longer. I slip out of you, your wail of protest loud enough that I have to slap my palm over your mouth, slap your fucking face for disobeying the one rule I’ve set for you.

And then I dive right into your raw cunt. I slurp and lick and lap, so wet I have to reach down and stroke my dick, the sound of you so fucking filthy it’s pornographic. I growl and spit on my palm, masturbating to the sight in front of me. You climax with a gasp, and I persevere through all of it, keeping you still, but desperate for a last dip.

Once, twice, I slam back inside, and scramble to come on your stomach, thick spurts shooting out, my vision blurry, my chest heavy. A fucking mirage, covered in my cum, spent and destroyed. I love you. I love you.

“I’m goddamned obsessed with you,” I confess, falling back on my heels, breathing ruggedly, running a hand through my hair. You’re a mess all over. My fucking cumdoll. “I am a ruined man, (Y/N). I can’t think of nothing else except this. How I can spend the most amount of my time inside you.”

You laugh, and bite your lip, closing your legs on me. I slap them open, stare at what I created, a visceral feeling tearing through me. I want to cut you down, slip myself inside you, wear your skin as mine. I’m the insane one, not you. You were made to want, while my wishes condemn me.

“You’re never fucking leaving me,” I’m not proud to admit this toxic, acid thought. “I won’t survive it if you do. You’re stuck, do you understand? I’m not going to apologize, and I’ll never mention it again, but,” I rub my thumb on the inside of your thigh, braving a glance at your spent face. You’re scared, you love me. You’re afraid of the fact. “What we have… it’s not fucking normal, (Y/N). I can barely explain it myself. I need to fucking possess you, baby; I have terrible, god-forsaken thoughts of—of crawling inside your bones and carving a place for me there, a place I can never escape.”

I kiss your wet cheeks and wrap myself around you. I rest my head on your stomach, and close my burning eyes; I listen to your heartbeat, your deep breathing. You’re falling asleep, but still, your fingers reach down and soothe my demons away. I’m so devastated by you, (Y/N). I have ruined my entire life to have you. It is the highest form of happiness, the worst imaginable punishment. I need you like I need my own breath.

I drift off with my cock erect, and tears running down my face. It will never be easy, will it? Being close to you. 

It shakes the very fucking foundation of me.

They find out eventually, as we always knew they would.

The board of trustees propose a meeting, a formality, really, since I’m well aware of the rules of the school, and the ethical standpoint of these kinds of things. I’m the big bad monster that seduced you, and you hold no power over me. What do they fucking know, as I stare each of them in the eye and accept their decision. What do they fucking know. You haven’t come to class in four days. Are you okay? Are you embarrassed of us?

“Seeing as you are both adults, I’m sure we can end this unfortunate event amicably. Miss (Y/L/N) will willingly withdraw from your class, and you will be taking an extensive absence of leave for the rest of the semester. The council’s vote was unanimous on this—as a brilliant established member of the university, and a graduate of it, as such, we find it a grave disadvantage to us to let you go. Therefore, an exception has been made. Do you agree with this?”

I have no choice. I pray for whoever tipped off the Chancellor that I never find them. A severe thought crosses my mind—they’ve taken you from me. How will I be able to see you now? What will become of us if we are found disregarding their rules again? Surely death. I couldn’t possibly bear a different kind of separation, one where I lose you beyond just the classroom. It’s unimaginable and it fills me with a freezing dread, a pure horror that I feel down to my fucking core.

“Will you guarantee that this will be kept under wraps? (Y/N)—Miss (Y/L/N) is an exceptional student, one that does not deserve the public outrage something like this would cause her,” I keep my face straight, my expression contained. “It was a mishap, a lack of judgment on my part, nothing more. She remains a brilliant girl, and I wish for nothing more than to see her excel and graduate with utmost respect.”

“Of course. This is a private matter. But, Mr. Bahng, if we receive a similar document again… you understand our position, surely?”

One last time. I need to see you one last time.

“Certainly. Thank you for your time.”

Your phone sends me straight to voicemail. I’m not brave enough to try your dorm room, not with all those girls in there and their judgy eyes, and you refuse to step foot in my class even though you still have two lectures before we’re both to leave. They must’ve told you it was better to stay away for a bit, as to not make it so obvious, and yet I cannot for the life of me see the logic behind you being so far away from me, where I can’t reach you.

I’ve told you this. It won’t end well if I lose you.

I am over myself. I look for you everywhere. I see you in everything, in my dreams, to what little I manage to sleep, in the corners of my office, all the places I’ve had you writhing underneath me, your seat in the very front now occupied by that stupid boy—they all seem to know. Not for certain, but it’s in the glint of their eyes, the silences your voice would fill with such certainty it would steal my fucking breath away.

I ignore them all. I DON’T HAVE YOU, I want to scream at them. My worst nightmare came true, and I can only remember your sweet laugh as I’d bite on your neck, your honey exclamation—oh, it tickles!—as I did it over and over again. I can only remember the warmth of your cunt, the vivid smell of it, and your heart, the fluttering of it against my chest, how I held you to me, and you were safe from all of them, how we should’ve stayed in that office and never unlocked the door.

Leave a message after the tone. Beep.

“Answer your fucking phone, (Y/N). You’re driving me crazy.”

A day later, there you are, getting coffee, a book in your hand, your entire face smiling, so kind it messes with my head, the inner workings of my chest cavity.

I watch you from afar, notice how absentminded you look, how ignorant I must’ve been those past few days thinking this all hasn’t meant a thing to you, because it’s always been in the little things your face makes. Your tells, the things that give you away. How you listen without having heard a thing, how you play with your hair when you’re nervous. I’ve noticed them all, my love, and I can tell right now, that you’re thinking of me.

I think of approaching you, of showing myself to you, but it’s too soon. I can’t walk up to you in public, not on campus. I weigh the risk, the consequences—they’re the same, they haven’t changed, because to me this was always the outcome, this was always the end of us.

I call your name in my grief. Only to myself, a gentle summoning, just so I can pretend your name still belongs in my mouth. It does. It always will.

You do not see me. Or, if you do, you pretend not to. I can’t be sure which hurts more. You shatter me.

I try again the next day, a Saturday. As soon as we’re out of school grounds, a good distance away, I pinch the fabric of your jacket, jilting you. You turn around terrified—this is how I feel, I want to yell and shake you.

Alone, lost, in a labyrinth where I cannot find myself, I cannot find you. Endless loops, unbearable darkness.

“We can’t do this,” you say immediately, flinching away from me. From me. I’m ugly then, I’m dangerous, I can’t seem to control my temper. “I told you we can’t do this.”

I lunge for you, I grab your face in my hands, and force your ruinous eyes to look into my blind ones. I’ve seen nothing since that night we slept together. I’ve been walking around without knowing what day it is, without direction.

“I’ve called you,” I rasp. “Where’s your goddamn phone?”

“I didn’t want to talk to you.”

Oh, my baby. You’re sick with grief, aren’t you? Just like me. Your eyes are raw underneath all that black liner.

Still, I ask, “Why?”

You place your hands on top of mine, and remove them slowly. I cherish even your rejection. At least you’re here, in front of me, corporeal and talking to me.

“I got off easy,” you admit, head dropping in regret. “I didn’t know what they did to you, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“I can’t be near you. They sent me on ‘vacation’.”

You nod, and it takes every last bit of willpower to not smash you into my chest and keep you there, safe and sound.

“It will never be the same between us, will it?” You sound so eternally sad. I want to fix it. Fix all of it.

But I can’t. And it eats me alive.

“It will not.” In admitting this, I lose a piece of myself. My heart wails.

Look at me again, (Y/N). Meet me halfway and I’ll always choose you. Nothing has changed for me. Meet my eyes, see that I love you. That I’ve loved you from the beginning, that I was made to love you, that nothing ever existed before you, and that I cannot see in front of me.

“Then, we should end it.” 

No. No.

“If we end it once and for all here—”

“I won’t,” I say, keeping my hands to myself, biting down my anger, the pain rising up to choke me. “End it? What does that—I’ve buried myself in you, (Y/N). You’re in me like my own fucking spirit. End it? This will never end. We can never end.”

I got you crying now. As much as it tugs at me, I’m glad of your tears. They show you care, that you don’t really believe the bullshit words coming out of your mouth. I won’t hear any of it, I fucking won’t. You reach for any part of me to hold, fingers lifting in desperate attempt, and I pull you to me by the nape of your neck, our bodies crushing, the wave coming up to meet the shore.

I’ll remain astute as you come and go. You don’t have any choice but to return. It’s where you belong. With me, I whisper in your hair. Stay with me.

“To what end?” You mumble, your voice broken with emotion.

I bring my other arm around you, hold you close against me. “Ours. Until I’m dead. There’s no one else for me, baby. You. It’s always gonna be you.”

You won’t hear any of it. “I can’t ask you to do this for me, Chris.”

I silence you, kiss your forehead, your eyelids. “This is for me. I’m the fucking— I’m the selfish son of a bitch that can’t quit you. If it happens again, I’ll resign,” I made a promise to myself then. “I’ll resign and wait for you to graduate. Once you do, we’ll leave this damned place and go wherever you want. I’ll take care of you, you know that right?”

You nod, and I feel your fists bunching the material of my shirt, as if being this impossibly close isn’t enough for you. As if you’d wear my own clothes if you could, coexist in this body of mine. That’s all I’ve been asking for, you know. To somehow become one entity, to never have to part from you.

Why were our souls split? Not ours, I think bitterly. Ours should’ve never parted. What a cataclysmic event it must’ve been.

“I’ll rent an apartment, I’ll leave campus,” I whisper my plans to you, as we walk along the maple trees wrapped in each other’s arms. “It’ll be ours, you can come whenever you please. You’ll have your own key.”

“I’ll buy my stupid couch and a matching coffee table,” you laugh softly, and I’m ready. I’m sure about this.

I need you to be happy like this, to not have a care in the world. I’ll make it happen, I fucking swear it to you, my heart.

“And the island chairs, and ridiculous knick knacks that I won’t have a say over?”

Your unadulterated giggles set me on fire. “All of them, yes! It’ll be out of an IKEA catalog.”

All I want, all I want—my very soul beats this. A life with you. Beyond the class. It’s always been beyond it.

I say this to you that evening, as I make love to you in a borrowed bed, my name coming from your lips still the sweetest sound I’ve ever had the privilege to hear. My heart’s song, the greatest one. The rise and fall of your breath. My own. Its unique composition.

I love you. I love you so much my chest bleeds open with the truth of it. I’ll gladly run dry at your feet. 

“You’re everything, (Y/N). You’re everything.”

Nothing will ever take you from me. Not even death itself. Especially death.

I will find you there as well, if I have to. 

[dunmeshistash]

Ryoko Kui Q&A (part of the Autograph event in Shanghai, China)

Here's the full Q&A copied from the post by Minute_Profession_34 on reddit

Original on weibo

About Ryoko Kui

Q: You have created a lot of interesting short manga in the past, do you have any favorite short manga by other artists?

A: A classic choice though, I think it's the collection of short stories by Fujiko F. Fujio. Other impressive works include "Hanshin: Half-God" by Moto Hagio, "Hanashippanashi " by Daisuke Igarashi, "茄子" by 黑田硫黄, "Skygrazer" by Ishiguro Masakazu, and "Tabi (The Journey of Life)" by Irie Aki. However, I haven't really read many short manga compilations.

Q: Do you prefer to create short manga or longer ones?

A: Long manga.

Q: Do you have a game that you highly recommend to fans?

A: Although not a game title, Steam Deck is the best thing I have bought in the last few years.

Q: What kind of music genre do you like?

A: I'm really not a music person and don't listen to music at all. Sometimes I listen to something like Tropical House.

About the creation & worldview of Dungeon Meshi

Q: Is the main storyline of the comics conceived at the beginning? Is the final ending adjusted during the serialization process?

A: I decided everything from the beginning. It may sound overly pretentious to say that, but I am the type of person who cannot move forward with each and every story unless I have decided on the main flow of the story. Of course, there are parts that I changed during the process because I thought, "I was going to do it this way, but it might not be natural," and there are parts that didn't work out the way I wanted them to. However, I think the story turned out to be roughly what I had in mind at the beginning.

Q: Will people outside of the dungeon incorporate the use of magic into their daily lives?

A: It would depend on the region. There are many sorcerers in elven and gnome cultures, but I don't think you will find many in dwarf and most short-lived cultures.

Q: What secrets of ancient magic are the elves hiding? Why would one be punished for doing anything related to ancient magic?

A: It is about the existence of Demon. They restricted that information because they didn't know what effect it would have on the world if the existence of Ddemon became known.

Q: How do adventurers know the time? Is there any dungeon having a different time flow from the normal world?

A: Some people bring things like clocks, but most only use their biological clock. There are also Dungeons where the flow of time is different from that on the ground.

Q: In the world of Dungeon Meshi, how do you deal with natural disasters, what would Laios or Marcille or Canaries do when there's a drought or a storm?

A: I don’t think it is so different from us.

About characters in Dungeon Meshi

Q: It’s about to give the new puppy a name again. Can Laos still beat Falin?

A: 7 out of 10, Laios will win. Or it may be decided by rock-paper-scissors or a raffle.

Q: Who will inherit the Golden Land after the passaway of Laios? The children and grandchildren of Yaad? Or the descendants of Laios? Or will there be a new Devourer?

A: Maybe the descendants of the Laios will inherit it, or maybe it will be passed on to someone with no blood ties at all. Or perhaps the monarchy will be abolished.

Q: Will Laios continue to eat monsters in the castle? And who will cook, maybe someone better than Senshi?

A: Many people in Merini are good cooks, but Senshi's cooking must be special to Laios. He may invite Senshi to cook from time to time.

Q: Where will Falin prefer to travel to?

A: She may prefer places where she can see landscapes and cultures she has never seen before.

Q: Would Marcille befriend a half-elf, such as Fionil? Since half-elves shouldn't think too much about longevity amongst themselves. Or would they not consider race as a factor to make friends but by fate?

A: Because mixed species in this world grow at very different rates and have very different abilities from person to person, there is often not much of a sense of sameness when you first meet them. They may or may not become friends as a result of interacting with each other as we would with any other human being.

Q: Is there any special meaning of Marcille and her mother's ribbons on the neck? And what about Cithis’s ribbon?

A: In elven culture, people with magic tattoos on their necks sometimes wear decorations covering their necks to hide the tattoos (mainly military personnel) This has spread to the general population, and many people wear decorations on their necks even if they do not have neck tattoos. Marcille and her mother's ribbons are just for fashion. While Cithis may have something special.

Q: Why wouldn’t Cithis wear a gorget? Or she’s not afraid of Dungeon Rabbits?

A: Maybe it’s suffocating or simply not liking it? The head-cutting Dungeon Rabbit is a fearsome monster, but it is not the first thing for the rear guard to be on the lookout for.

Q: How will Izutsumi and Falin get along with each other?

A: They may work together if necessary, but I doubt that Izutsumi will actively show interest in Falin (as she does with everyone).

Q: Itsuzumi has a beast soul mixed with a small amount of human soul, and does she shapeshift between a beast-man and a beast form like Lycion?

A: It can be done, but once transformed, she may no longer want to return to her human form.

*This Q&A seems to be strange

Q: What would Thistle do if he attended the former dungeon masters meetings?

A: Perhaps he would feel angry at the incompetence of other masters (their dependence on the devil).

Q: How did Milsiril accept Helki to stay by her side? After all, she hated elves and was bullied by her Canary teammates.

A: In the past, Helki was abandoned by his comrades for various reasons, and she could not leave him alone.

Q: Has Kabru ever had a real relationship with a girl? If so, what race or personality type of the girl was she?

A: I don’t think he cares about race, etc...

Q: What kind of soba will Mithrun make?

A: I hope he can make delicious soba.

Q: I would like to know the name of Mithrun’s brother or his brother’s crush!

A: His brother's name is Obrin (オブリン). I haven't thought of a particular name for his brother’s crush, so I'll name her appropriately now. Hmmm. Sultha (スルスハ).

Q: Since Mithrun used to assist Canary from behind, I wonder what kind of weapons he was good at using? Or was he good at using no weapons? (this is new info from the Korean Q&A)

A: He used a magic staff similar to that used by Pattadol. He was issued with the same one by the team. However, he no longer carried it because he lost it easily.

[giacarem]

Fic where, after Arthur has legalised magic but before Merlin has revealed his magic, Arthur hears that a sorcerer named Emrys can see into the future and grant prophecies, and decides to seek him out to ask him about the future of Camelot and Merlin panics

So Merlin tries to convince Arthur the whole time that maybe it’s not the best idea to seek out this apparently all knowing oracle, and what about whether this guy is even real or if he has the abilities in the first place (because as far as Merlin knows, he’s not a seer. Sure, he can see the future if he looks into the Crystal Cave, but it’s not an innate ability like Morgana’s visions)

But Arthur is determined so he takes Merlin and his knights and sets out to where Emrys is said to reside (and Merlin can’t help but think the entire thing is nonsense anyway, because where did this guy get his information from? Merlin very obviously does not live where ever they’re going)

The whole time he’s also thinking about ways to disguise himself once again if he indeed does have to present himself as Emrys to Arthur.

Anyways, they get to the abandoned castle where “Emrys” lives and surprise surprise, it’s an imposter

Merlin is now very angry and annoyed but for totally different reasons

He very subtly tries to discredit or trip up this “Emrys”

Merlin: I thought Emrys was a dragonlord

“Emrys”: Of course I am

Merlin: Then, why don’t you call a dragon?

“Emrys”: Ummmm

Arthur: Merlin, don’t be silly, all the dragons are gone, you were there when it happened

Arthur: Please, Emrys, I seek to know what will become of Camelot under my reign

“Emrys”: A kingdom is only as strong as its leader. There will be times of hardship, but also times of peace and joy

Merlin: Oh please, that’s so vague.

Arthur: Merlin, do not insult the all knowing, all powerful sorcerer

Merlin: So, how do you get your visions? Through sleep? By looking through a crystal?

“Emrys”: It comes to me naturally, like breathing. My magic always has

Merlin: Interesting, can we see some magic?

Arthur: Merlin, we are not here for entertainment

Eventually it’s revealed that this “Emrys” is a fraud and that Merlin is in fact the real Emrys, but then Arthur keeps expecting him to know about the future

Arthur: Merlin, will I die if I go on this quest to slay the beast?

Merlin, gritting his teeth: How would I know?

Arthur: Mm. I guess I just expected the all powerful Emrys to be a little more impressive

[sserpente]

After

Synopsis: You help Astarion wash off the blood after he kills Cazador. He doesn’t say much—but you can tell he needs you now more than ever.

A/N: I thought of this the other day and I almost cried. So I wrote it so that you can almost cry as well.

Words: 897

Warnings: trauma responses, fluff

Astarion was being unusually quiet, his movements robotic and too automatic as if he was somewhere else entirely in his mind. And he was. You couldn’t blame him. He had his own demons to deal with after what you had just witnessed.

His hand was still clutching the dagger so tightly his knuckles turned white. But not even the blood stains on his bare skin could manage to disfigure him. He was as beautiful as ever despite the streams of tears drying on his cheeks.

You’d wrapped your cloak around him after he announced he wanted to get out of there, eager to respect his wish. There was nothing left for him here. It was over. Now all he had to do was to heal, slowly, from the trauma the past two hundred years had caused him.

Both Shadowheart and Gale had offered to help calm him down with magic but Astarion had been quick to decline. It was dark outside by the time you left the palace—a welcome circumstance. Though it was not uncommon for citizens to roam the city drenched in blood every now and then, you were certain Astarion was grateful for the absence of curious and suspicious looks as you made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern.

It wasn’t just Cazador’s death of course. He’d turned it all down. The ability to walk in the sun, the powers Ascension would have granted him… Now he’d return to the shadows. But he wouldn’t do it alone, that you were going to make sure of. He had you.

He was still silent by the time you returned to your room upstairs. Whoever had decided to stay behind today—Lae’zel, Wyll, Jaheira, Halsin and Minsc—their eyes all went wide the moment they laid their eyes on the blood-drenched vampire spawn.

The questions were burning on their tongues, you could tell. But they held back. You cleared your throat.

“Would you guys mind… leaving us for a bit? Join the others downstairs for a drink maybe?”

“Understood,” Jaheira said. She waved her hand and nodded, compassion glistening in her wise eyes. “Take your time.”

“Astarion…” Minsc pushed Jaheira out of the way, earning him a groan. “Is… is Cazador dead?”

“Yes, he’s dead, Minsc,” you answered for him. Jaheira grabbed his arm and dragged him along with her before he could say something else. Wyll, Lae’zel and Halsin followed suit.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the latter announced. A few heartbeats later, you were alone.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love.” Your voice was barely a whisper but Astarion heard you nonetheless. He nodded and finally allowed you to peel the dagger from his grasp. You set it aside on a table and lead him to the washtub in the corner of the room.

The cloak slipped from his shoulders, sailing to the wooden floor. He made no move to pick it up, no move to help you as you filled the tub with warm water. In fact, you weren’t sure he even saw you do it. But when you moved away to get him a fresh towel for later, you heard him.

“Don’t leave,” he said softly. Your eyes darted back to him, taking in the vulnerability and helplessness surrounding him like cold mist.

“I won’t. Ever. I was just gonna get you a towel.”

“Don’t leave,” he repeated.

The chest with your things was just around the corner, still, you opted against it. You forced the corners of your lips up and nodded, returning back to his side.

He didn’t protest when you removed his bloodied trousers and had him step out of them, didn’t resist when you made him climb into the tub and eventually, undressed yourself and reached for a sponge and soap before joining him.

Silence filled the room, water dripping as you dunked the sponge in. His sigh the moment it touched his cool skin was heartbreaking.

Inch by inch, you washed off the blood, pressing feather-light kisses to his chest and his face every now and then. Once you were done and the very last traces of Cazador had vanished, you cupped his cheeks, gently forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

Astarion nodded. “I just need…time.” To process. To decompress, to let everything that happened today sink in.

You nodded. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, Astarion. I am so proud of you. What you did today…that was the bravest thing I have ever witnessed. You didn’t have to do it and it wouldn’t have made you any less brave if you hadn’t faced him. But you did. I love you. And I will do anything in my power to help you through this, whatever you might need.”

The vampire smiled—it was a weak smile, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. But it was sincere nonetheless.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you.”

You remained in the bath until the water was cold. After tiptoeing over to the clothing chest naked to finally retrieve the towels to dry off, you cuddled up in bed together, your limbs entangled and his face pressed against your neck. His breath evened surprisingly fast as he slipped into trance and you too closed your eyes, holding on to him tightly until you were certain he had found peace for tonight.

[starless-nightz]

Pretty please do Jinx, Caitlyn and Maddie with a fem! S/O whos from Zaun and are a mage

Jinx, Caitlyn and Maddie with a fem! Zaunite! mage! S/O

note -> Maddie they could never make me hate you. This takes place before the caitvi fight. I changed my writing style a bit ^^

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff, slight xenophobia, slight angst.

Jinx

If you two knew each other when you were children she would have been the one helping you train and you two would try new things to see how much of your magic you can do.

If you two didn't know each other Jinx would be fascinated by your magic abilities, she would ask question on how they work and she would ask you to show her some tricks.

She would even make you a weapon that would be able to use your magic.

Of course the weapon would be covered in doodles but you don’t mind, the moment she gives it to you she forces you to try it so she can see if it works.

Jinx loves watching you fight, especially when you use the weapon she made you for the first time, shes very happy that it works.

She loves seeing you do little tricks with your magic, she especially loves it when she sees you showing Isha some of Jinxs favorite magic tricks.

Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn is very impressed by your abilities, she has only ever met a handful of mages, and she was never close with any of them to know more about magic.

She’ll ask thoughtful questions to understand how it works and how you use it.

Whenever you use magic Caitlyn can't help but admire you, you just look so mesmerizing and beautiful she can't help it.

You being from the Undercity didn't change much in your relationship, but you did start to notice the changes in her character towards talking about the Undercity after the attack.

As a strategist, Caitlyn sees the potential for your abilities in a fight and often works with you to plan how your magic and her sharpshooting can complement each other. You two make a terrifyingly effective team.

Caitlyn would get Jayce to make a special weapon for you that would accommodate your magical abilities but you almost never use the weapon, prefering to use your staff.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie loves watching you do magic, she finds it fascinating, asking you many question about magic and how you use it.

Maddje is absolutely your biggest supporter, always cheering on you and supporting you even when you are fighting someone.

Maddie doesn't mind that you are from the Undercity, though there are some comments she makes that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

She loves watching you preform little magic tricks, Maddie looks at you like a love sick puppy, her eeyes sparkling as she watches you.

Maddie would praise you to everyone and everything, talking about how cool and awesome you are, gushing about you the whole time.

She admires you and your magic, she just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want to help capture Jinx and clear the Undercity.

[lustlovehart]

I'm more curious about the reverse!Monster au, how are the others test boys and Fellow honest and Skully are like in this version?

I like to believe they’re generally the same as the dorm leaders actually. Unlike regular Monster!Twst who have the 7 wonders as the biggest wanted bounty in the monster hunter field, as well as their pesky magic capabilities, the seven in Reverse Monster!Twst, are basically regular people who are just highly capable at their jobs. The same thing goes for everyone else, they don’t have the super abilities their monster counterparts have, so they’re regular people as well. I can give a general consensus on how all of them meet readers though!

Pairings: Fellow, Skully, Neige, Chenya, Heartslaybul, Savanclaw, Octavinelle, Pomefiore, Diasmonia x Reader

First however, We should go over the others, as some of them aren’t officially apart of the Monster Hunters. Also, there is 100% spelling errors in here, so sorry!! Reversed

These men are supposed to be Monster hunters… So why… Why do they act more fiendish than a Monster like you?!?

Fellow - A con artist on sages quarter who regularly scams people on the streets. Karma catches up to him when he finds you hiding in the shadows, attempting to sell you a fake artifact, only for him to catch a closer look at you, and realize you’re the monster the Hunter organization has been looking for. He should run, but the closer he looks at you… You’d be quite the attraction… Many people would pay to see the all-famed beast in a cage! Synopsis: To which Fellow pathetically attempts to catch you, realizing as time goes on, maybe there’s more to you than just money… Leading to his obsession.

Skully - The information logger of the organization. He doesn’t hunt any monsters down but collects info brought back to make records. He's been obsessed with knowing more about you, as your existence is shrouded in mystery. Imagine his surprise when he’s working late at night, only to look up and realize his (few) pictures of you are missing! His long limbs stumble over to search, he trips when the feeling of a monstrous trait lies on the ground. He’s prepared to run out when he stops and finally realizes who’s sitting there. You look down at him, your eyes following his every movement. Well now… Now that he knows it's you and not some random, how could he ever let those other Hunters defile you?! Synopsis: Skully finds the love (or monster) of his dreams in his decrepited study room! Now all he must do is hide you away from everyone else… But how is he supposed to do that when you won’t even answer what you’re doing there?

Neige - A support Hunter, who rather than do the hunting, acts as medical backup on the field. There’s not much to complain about when it comes to him, unlike the other factions. People like the 7 Highers and their upper ranks are looked upon with admiration for their skill, but in the same breath spat at due to their more than disagreeable personalities. Not Neige though, he’s the only sweet person in the field. This is why his co-workers are in shock when they succumb to their wounds, watching Neige tend to the monster who has practically sent them to their graves. Neige looks back with a sad smile, but when he turns it shifts to a smile with great joy. Synopsis: The only healer in the work field, realizes he recognizes you, perhaps from a dream, or maybe another world. But all he remembers is how much he strived to find you again in this reality, slowly abandoning his life, in turn, to live this new one with you.

Chenya- The weird citizen who somehow always finds you. No matter how many trees, rocks, or even heads you throw at him, he just always seems to come back with a smile on his face. He’s not a part of the monster organization hunting you down, but he isn’t normal either. All you know is his name is Chenya, and he wants… You don’t know what he wants but he’s always there! You wonder if he’s a monster too, but the way he answers no so casually tells you he is just a regular human. So why is he everywhere??? Synopsis: This human holds too much mystery to be sure of his motives, but one thing is for sure, he has a great interest in always staying by you.

Heartslaybul Upper Ranks- They find out about you when they follow Riddle one day on a private job. The moment they see him confront you they silently cheer him on, completely expecting their tyrant of a unit leader to immediately behead you upon sight. When he doesn’t they’re left in a state of confusion, only further enriching the feeling when Riddle doesn’t kill you, but cages you. You escape his grasp once more and all of them overhear the way he whispers.

“I shall not let you escape…!” Now they’re curious as to why Riddle is so set on taking you, not because of the rules of his job, but because of his wants. You’ve successfully swayed the strict Rule-Followers heart, it only makes sense his soldiers have grown curious about you… They scramble away when Riddle walks in their direction, though now that they look closer… Are his cheeks blushed red? Ace’s snickers immediately alert their leader's attention, his face instead red with anger. “Are you the reason they’re gone?!” They’re all quick to run as Trey attempts to calm him. Surely, it can’t be that serious, You’ll get that monster next time! Trey is the only one who hears Riddles's confession of not beheading you, but rather… No, this should be a secret between them.

Ace and Deuce - Officially meet you on a mission, where their luck randomly has them crossing paths with a disguised you. When that cloak falls, the beginning of their infatuation is sparked. They can finally see you up close… and now they finally understand why Riddle is so obsessed with you. Ace throws a quick smirk at Deuce, silently communicating a plan. They feign worry as they pose as travelers, worried about your safety. They’re lucky you assume them to be innocent merchants and not secret hunters. However… are merchants usually this close to their clients? They’re basically breathing on you…!

Trey and Cater - You sneak into Trey’s part time bakery on Sages quarter, attempting to try all the food you have never tried. The both of them are assume you’re just a random monster that showed up, giving them extra work. They’re proven wrong when they instead find you. They’re quick to put away their weapons and beckon you over with sweet promises.

Savanaclaw Upper Ranks- First introduced to to the idea of you when they see Leona covered in scratches and bruises, they assume he either went out on a mission, or something else entirely. Their suspicions are proven wrong when they quietly hear Leona mumble your name, kicking rocks as he plans his future trap for his prey (you, though, not even Leonas sure if he can can call you prey. The moment he catches you, he already knows he’s gonna treat you way better than the meat slabbed on his plate). They remember the name quickly, a top rated bounty. Jack is proud at their unit leaders strong strive that hasn’t been seen in so long, while Ruggies wondering if there’s a way for him to get some of that money. One thing is sure, Leona certainly has them interested in you too (accidently).

“Damn monster… Ruinin’ my sleep…” The two of them watch Leona glare at a flower. They think he’s gonna sand it down to dust. They’re thrown off when he plucks it and pockets with a swiftness that’s honestly funny. Now they need to know who has their unit leader so starstruck.

Jack & Ruggie - Meet you when they’re training. It’s pure chance when the leaves of a tree rustle, a body falling out of its branches. They rush over, assuming it to be an innocent towns person who most likely broke a rib or two. They’re frozen when the body picks its head up, the pretty sight of the most heinous monster in existence (you) blinking at them in a daze. Ruggie laughs as he leans you on his shoulder. Well, now he doesn’t think he wants thatbounty money anymore. Jack was never in it for the reward, but he can’t deny he thinks the same as Ruggie.

Ocatvinelle Upper Ranks- They’re already aware of you from the get go. They were both hiding behind a tree as they witness Azuls first meeting with you. So, in a sense, their first meeting with you was right then, beating Azul with dark bruises before fading into shadows. They never tell him about their excursion though, acting oblivious when Azul vents to them about his encounter with you. Ohh…! He really thought he could get you…! They nod along, subtly feeding into his confidence. My, and they thought he only wanted the status! To think you changed Azul from just one meeting alone… You are quite the entertainer.

“I’ll get them next time…!” Azul slams his fist down on the desk, his weapons clattering at the impact. Usually, he would care about such damages, it’s expensive furniture! But the look on his face is something entirely different, as if he couldn’t care about that fortune anymore. What would it matter if he can’t lavish you in it? He buries his head in his hands, glancing over at the golden conch on his table. Monster like shiny things don’t they? Perhaps you’ll come out to him when you see it’s glimmer. Jade and Floyd giggle as Azul scrambles to form a basket of glittery objects. Jade shines the gold necklace in his hand, it’s comforting to know they all had the same idea~

Jade & Floyd - They finally meet you face to face after such a long time of only knowing your elusive nature, all because they flashed diamond and gold in the moons light. Despite the way you snarl and throw insults at them, they don’t seem fazed one bit. “Ehh, Shrimpy’s kinda pretty up close huh?” Jade nods along. That uniform of theirs looks familiar... That slimy hunter..! Though… You think you might prefer him over these two…

Pomefiore Upper Ranks- Another pair (#3) who stalk their unit leader. Though, Completely unwilling for Epel. The sight of a disheveled bruised and beaten Vil is distraughting for Rook, he’s only narrowly held back by Epel who clings to him. He whispers warnings to the blonde, if you got out there you’ll die! But to let a comrade in arms perish despite being so near must be a much more horrible fate! He’s already pulling back the string of his bow to kill an ugly beast like you. But then, Vil ducks out of the way, the moonlight hitting you, and allowing both of them to see the sight Vil saw so up close. The bow drops down as Rook gasps. My... You are the epitome of beauty.

“How horrible…” Vil sits up from the dirty spot on the floor, dusting off his uniform. Rook and Vil are ready to run up to him, but stop when they notice Vil lift an object up to the light, a sadistic laugh of victory escaping his throat. “Yet amazing.” a bottle of crimson liquid illuminates with the moon behind it. “You and I, should be the fairest together.” he covers the glass container in a sack. “But first, I should strive to become much fairer.” Epel is left quirking an eyebrow at a teary eyed Rook. He doesn't know why… But he feels like Rook wants to both hunt you, and court you.

Epel & Rook - Meet you because of Rook somehow picking up your disguised figure in an overpacked crowd. You’re unsuspecting to the hunters that lurk behind you, wanderingly aimlessly in your next feast. You’re about to open your mouth and take your first bite of a meal, when a gloved hand covers your mouth and brings you into the body heat. A mysterious blonde man look at you with a smile while he tugs. Non non, your face would be sullied with blood! Our queen wouldn’t like that, right Epel? The other hunter nods, tightening the rope in his hands. Something tells you it’s not just Vil who’s determined to see your beauty up close.

Diasmonia Upper Ranks- They’re alerted to your continuing existence when Malleus bursts through the door, his overwhelming strength almost shooting the hinges. It's been a while since he’s acted like this. The first time happened when he first became unit leader, his cause of disarray being a sighting of you he missed by two minutes because Crowley kept the sevens meeting running long. It doesn’t take much to assume this next cry is caused by you as well. They’re proven right when Malleus tightens his fists, cracking the statue near the door with a strong hit. The utterance of your name proves them right. He takes a glance at the pictures of you ripped from books, each one adorned with a flower he believed to fit your aura in the frame. He turns back with anger and sorrow, walking away from the board.

“I finally saw them… But was it even worth it if I couldn't speak to them?” The confession leads to panic. Malleus… Finally met you? So… You do exist! They’re about to cheer for him, but remember his current unpleasant mood and deter from the decision. Though, the only thing left to do then is get you for him, is it not? They all collectively look at each other before leaving the chambers with great haste. Lilias laughing with joy, Silver is dazed yet still determined, and Sebek… Well, he views you with disdain, as you are a filthy monster, the things they’ve sworn to kill and protect the world from. But, you are the object of Malleus’s interest, so… He should most likely pursue you.

Lilia & Silver & Sebek - Meet you through a sucessful plan, where you glare at them from above the fire they have you dangling over. You’re shouting curses at them, hoping at least one will cast and bring misfortune to their lineage. You grunt in frustration when nothing lands due to your panic. Lilia tilts his head at you, questioning if this is really the monster blessed with the highest bounty in history, as well as Malleuses infatuation. Though he can’t deny it, he’s quite curious too, and he can confidently say the other two feel the same way. Silver is fully awake for once as he stares at you, even Sebek doesn't seem as uptight. In both of their minds, you’re a danger to Malleus, but you’re also his in the same breath, which is why... They feel so guilty for feeling the same way he does towards you. Lilia laughs as he swings you towards his arms, catching you with a strength unbefitting his frame. It seems you’ve captured both Diasmonas Unit leader and his uper ranks.

And perhaps… Maybe all of Sages Quarters key people.

To every ones misfortune, their traps fail and Monster!Darling escapes from them everytime, further increasing the missing count of Sages quarter, and perhaps the world.

[wonderjanga]

batman keeps trying to put trackers on marvel's costume, but none of it actually comes off, and the parts he can put trackers on are all like, magical, so they break the trackers and he's so mad about it

Bruce has tried so many ways to track Marvel it’s honestly driven him mad.

First he tried looking for the man using CCTV cameras only to realize Fawcett doesn’t have any. Oh no, no no no, he got the grainy, haven’t been used since the 80s, security cameras. So he ends up combing through all of these cameras because of how old they are because he can’t use the software he normally uses to quickly find people. He also had to do this all on his own because Barbara was busy, and none of his other kids wanted to help him because they all like Cap. And then, when he finally finds the Captain…

Batman: *staring at the Batcomputer intently*

Marvel: *standing in an alleyway* “Shazam.”

Batman: *doesn’t understand what he said, because the audio is too crappy to decipher, but doesn’t have enough time to register that as the cameras immediately cut off*

Bruce nearly… What did Tim call it? Ah yes, crashed out. Bruce nearly ended up crashing out over this. But whatever, right? There’s always multiple solutions to a single problem.

So, he then tried a more simple solution: trackers. Small tiny little things no bigger than his pinky finger. He stuck one onto Marvel’s shoulders as the Captain was leaving for the day.

Batman: “Captain. I would like to say that you fought wonderfully today.” *puts hand on Marvel’s shoulder and places the tracker*

Marvel: “You think so? Thanks.” *sunny ahh smile*

Bruce in fact did not think so, but he needed an excuse to touch Marvel’s shoulder. Anyways, the tracker didn’t even last an hour before he got a notification that it was broken, or rather fried, by electricity. Honestly, that might as well have been Bruce’s fault. One of the man’s major powers is electricity for Christ’s sake. So after a bit, he went and upgraded the trackers to now be electrical resistant.

Marvel: *walking to the zetas*

Batman: “Captain, you own a tiger, yes?” *starts walking with him*

Marvel: “Ah, yes, why?”

Batman: “Robin’s been asking about getting a tiger.”

Marvel: “Oh really? You wanna know some tips or something?”

Batman: “If you’d be willing to share, I’d appreciate it.”

Marvel: “Oh, okay then!” *proceeds to yap about tigers the whole was to the zetas*

Batman: *sneakily tacks the electric resistant tracker on him*

Bruce learned a lot about tigers that day. He never seen the man so informative and passionate about a subject other than magic. If only he’d put that same passion into his reports. Seriously, who alternates between their left and right arm on a professional report? At least do it on a piece of scratch paper or something. (This is a reference to post I saw a while ago about Marvel and Billy writing reports together. Because of that, half of the report was in super duper fancy shmancy handwriting and the other was in chicken scratch)

But anyways, back to the second tracker. See, it actually did the opposite of what it was designed to do, which was track and be resistant to electricity. It actually ended up shorting out and therefore losing its ability to track. Bruce now realized he underestimated Marvel’s electricity.

Now onto Bruce’s third attempt. He had the tracker enchanted with magic.

Batman: “Marvel, I’d like to talk to you about Junior.”

Marvel: “Sure? Is he in trouble?” *sounds concerned*

Batman: “No. You see, Robin’s been wanting to have a play date with him.”

Marvel: “Oh uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” *sounds hesitant* “I’ll have to ask him about it:”

Batman: “That’s fine.” *pats his shoulder and plants the tracker* “Get back to me when you’ve both come to a decision.”

Funnily enough, Bruce didn’t even get ten feet away before he got a notification that the tracker was destroyed. Billy felt the magic in the tracker and honest to the gods he thought it was a bug and swatted his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Billy’s confused but happy that Batman has been talking to him so much recently.

Eventually, after much trial and error (47 attempts) Bruce finally got a tracker that worked. He watched on the GPS as Marvel dipped into an alleyway and… dipped off of the face of the earth? He stared at it for a solid minute wondering if he should be concerned. It’s not like Marvel knows he’s been trying to track him. He has no idea how upset the man would be so he waited. Five minutes passed of Bruce waiting for the little dot representing Marvel to reappear. He then couldn’t take it anymore and started spamming Cap’s comm and was about to notify the other JL members until he finally picked up.

Batman: “Captain? Captain, are you there?”

Marvel: “Yeah? Yeah I am Mister Batman Sir? Is something wrong?”

Batman: “The GPS on your comm showed that you disappeared off the map for fifteen minutes.”

Marvel: “Oh really? Well I’m sorry for worrying you, Mister Batman Sir. I just went to the Rock of Eternity. That’s probably why I didn’t appear.

Batman: “What is the Rock of Eternity?”

Marvel: “Oh, it’s this rock that’s the cent- OH SHOOT.” *loud crash comes from his end*

Batman: “Is everything alright?”

Marvel: “Yeah- look I’m sorry but Black Adam’s here and he just threw a building at me. See ya, Mister Batman Sir.”

So yeah. After everything he went through only to come up with no results, Bruce is mad. Rolling in his grave even. The worst part is that he doesn’t even technically have the right to be mad, considering the fact that he was going behind one of his colleagues back’s and trying to track them without their consent. Though to be fair, Bruce did it because you can’t just have somebody that powerful running around and unchecked without a recorded weakness. But what makes him even more mad is that just when he was about to get the slightest semblance of information, a villain ruined it. At least he has a name now. The Rock of Eternity. It’s probably a magic thing that he’ll end up asking Zatanna about. He hates magic.

[harunayuuka2060]

Crowley and the teachers: ...

Crowley: This is quite unexpected.

Crowley: I had no idea that a two-week vacation could lead to such unexpected and noticeable changes.

Professor Crewel: Pup, are you—

MC: Yes, professor.

MC: Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am MC Draconia, the only child of Malleus Draconia.

Professor Crewel: ...

Professor Vargas: Draconia is a teenage father?

Professor Crewel: Seriously? That's the first thing you're going to ask?

Professor Trein: Now the resemblance makes sense.

Crowley: Hmm... *smiles* It looks like we need to update your student information.

MC: Thank you, sir.

Professor Trein: Since it turns out you're a fae, I'm afraid you'll need to join the magic lessons from now on.

MC: Yes. For this reason, I’d like to apologize since it means I’ll need to learn the basics.

Professor Vargas: You're a quick learner! You'll pick them up in no time!

Ruggie: *waiting for MC*

Jamil: What are you still doing here? The class is about to start.

Ruggie: My partner hasn't arrived yet.

Jamil: Partner—Ah... *smirks* You've been partnered with MC.

Ruggie: *sigh* Yeah. They've been away for two weeks, and I doubt we’ll be able to get anything done today.

Jamil: Didn’t you make a copy of the notes for them?

Ruggie: H-Huh? For free? Psh! No. *waves his hand dismissively*

Jamil: ...

Jamil: Everyone in this school knows you like them.

Ruggie: ...

Jamil: ...

Jamil: *laughs* Look at your face! I was just joking!

Ruggie: Really? You know how to make jokes now?

Jamil: *frowns* What's that supposed to mean?

Ruggie: I don't know. *enters the room*

Jamil: Hmph.

The teacher: Bucchi, where's your partner?

Ruggie: They're still not here yet.

The teacher: I see. I'm sure they would arrive in a few minutes—

MC: Sorry, I'm late!

The teacher: Oh, there you are.

Ruggie: ...

Their classmates: ...

Jamil: MC...?

MC: *looks at Ruggie and smiles*

Ruggie: ...

Jamil: Are you saying you were late because Floyd encouraged you to use teleportation magic?

MC: Yes.

Jamil: That's dumb. Why would you listen to him?

MC: I thought it was a common ability among fae. *chuckles* I was wrong.

Jamil: That should serve as a lesson.

Jamil: *then looks at Ruggie who hasn't said a word even after the class ended*

Jamil: Hey, Ruggie. Do you need to go to the infirmary?

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: Huh?

Jamil: Thank the great sevens. *rolls his eyes*

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: *looks at MC*

Ruggie: WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?!

MC: ...

Jamil: *sighs* I'll leave you two. Good luck explaining things to him. *walks away*

MC: ...

MC: Why don’t we head to our usual spot first?

Ruggie: *after MC explained that they have undergone rebirth and are actually the only child of Malleus Draconia, having always been a fae*

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: That's crazy.

MC: *smiles* I know.

Ruggie: So... You're a royalty...

MC: *nods*

Ruggie: Great. You've become the person I dislike.

MC: ...

MC: Why?

Ruggie: You wouldn't understand if I tell you.

MC: Then I will try to understand.

Ruggie: ...

Ruggie: No. *stood up and left*

MC: ...

Jack: What's wrong with Ruggie-senpai?

Savanaclaw student A: Maybe dude got rejected.

Savanaclaw student B: Ew. He's crying because of that?

Jack: *shocked* He's crying?

Leona: *standing outside Ruggie's room*

Leona: Oi, Ruggie. You haven't even confessed yet. Why the fuck are you crying?

Ruggie: *sniffles* That's where it's going!

Leona: Huh? Explain.

Ruggie: No!

Leona: This little—

[heytherecentaurs]

The Intrepid Heroes are at a point of competence as players that outright fights don’t cut it anymore. Brennan has to create other mechanics and conditions for there to be stakes.

They’re so good—Lou comes out and uses his abilities to decide how the fight will look. Emily literally calls out the level of spells cast like she’s Kevin Garnett calling out the other team’s plays. Murph mixes spells and rogue abilities to great effect. Zac as a barbarian soaks up damage and absolutely punishes enemies (He doesn’t have a lot of abilities that change things). Siobhan so strategically uses divination magic and knows how to use mechanics to make her moves more impactful. And Ally is chaos incarnate. I never know if they’ll do an ordinary move or something wild. It’s beautiful and Brennan is right. At level 20, the game would be unplayable. (And I wanna see it so bad!)

[itsswritten]

feels like home

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: The start of fairy readers journey and how she ended up in the Night Court. Essentially the start of the love story we all now love <3

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Autumn

Now you weren’t the arrogant kind — Fairies were always known to be humble. It’s why for the most part, your kind kept to your meadows, didn’t construct social hierarchy like Fae, and kept those mesmerising wings hidden.

However you were proud of your skills as a fairy. You were dutiful, talented, and worked incredibly hard. The youngest fairy to ever be enrolled on the fairy council. So the fact you were failing now, was quite a humbling awakening.

You blinked again, Elodie’s panicked voice blurring into the autumn breeze.

Your first stop on your travels was the Autumn Court. Visiting your cousin, who had offered refuge after your reluctant departure from Spring. Although you missed your home terribly, you were really trying to embrace this opportunity— the chance to explore a new court, spend quality time with family, and further your studies on the other seasons. Turning the dire situation you had to abandon into something positive.

However things were not going how you had expected. Apparently Autumn didn’t agree with you as well as Spring always had. 

“Y/N, there are snowdrops…in Autumn,” Elodie's concerned tone broke through. Your gaze hadn’t left the scene in front of you. Dewy snowdrops glistening under the cool autumn sun. 

You swallowed, your throat dry. “I’m aware.”

The snowdrops were your flowers. Beautiful but wrong. Your magic had manifested a spring flower in an Autumn court. Something that should never happen. 

It had been two months. Two months of no problems, and although the autumn shades didn’t necessarily suit you and the breeze didn’t sing as sweet as home, you had managed to settle in. 

You learnt how to get by. However the mess in front of you told you otherwise.

“What are you going to do?” Elodie pressed, her nervousness emitting beside you. You never got things wrong, you were always the one everyone else relied on– Mistakes were a rarity for you.

“Trying to figure that out,” your hands fisted the fabric of your dress at your sides. Your mind whirring as you tried to figure out a plan. The intricacies of your ability had always come so naturally to you in Spring, but grappling with a new season left you fumbling for a solution. 

“What. Are. Those?!” Your cousin's voice hitched in a tight tone, her voice hushing towards the end so as to not draw attention. She stalked over, her autumn-hued dress billowing behind her, hands were flailing towards you as she stormed in your direction.

With a spin you turned to her, stepping in front of the patch of snowdrops that had sprouted— as if she hadn’t already seen the little blooms that seemed to sway in the wind in mockery.

“I don’t understand…you were doing so well. I asked you to help bring the harvest along. You know, pumpkins, squash, apples. Not flowers!” Your cousin’s brows were drawn in tight, confusion and dismay in her tone. You could practically see her mind reeling as she took in the scene before her.

Instinctively your hands came up towards her, creating space, trying to calm the situation.

“I know. It’s just a small hiccup, I can reverse it. It’s fine,” you reassured quickly, not even allowing yourself to fester in the worry. 

You were the youngest fairy on the council you reminded yourself— a mentor to many of your friends and colleagues. This would not phase you.

Rolling your shoulders back, you looked at the taunting flowers straight on. Flexing your fingers as a drop of magic glowing like a little firefly, sunk slowly from your fingertips to the ground. Seeping into the deep earth that was covered in a blanket of burnt coloured leaves. 

A beat passed as the three of you held your breath. The forest seemed to hold it’s breath too, it’s mild wind coming to a silence.

Then, one of the buds quivered slightly, vibrating before it began to shrink and swirl back into the ground it had birthed from. A heavy sigh left your lips, shoulders dropping as Elodie gave you a slight smile. Chewing the inside of your cheek you gave her a knowing wink.

But that moment of relief quickly dissipated. Before your eyes more and more flowers began to spring before you. As though your magic had the opposite effect you had intended. 

Relishing in your victory too early served you your humiliation. Your cheeks turning hot as you watched the disaster unfold in front of you. It was rare for you to fluster, but you could feel the simmering of your pride burn deep within your gut at the sight of your mistake. Eyes wide as the white petals spread further beneath your feet.

This had never happened before.

Your fingers twitched beside your sides. Magic at your fingertips itching to resolve the mess, but your confidence had been knocked. You didn’t fully trust yourself or your ability, and that was a hard acknowledgment to make.

“Okay, you need to leave now.” With a light push, your cousin ushered you away from the disaster you had created.

“What? Wait! Just give me a moment to think. To fix this” You pressed back, your ego not allowing you to submit to this defeat.

“I don’t have time y/n. That Vanserra princling’s on his way, and if he’s anything like his father he will have your head. So leave. I will fix this."

Your expression must have spoken a thousand words, words of vulnerability and insecurity, because your cousin's expression softened for a moment. Bringing you to a quick embrace. 

“Your time in Autumn is up. Mistakes happen, and that’s okay. But it’s time to go.”

“But—“

She cut you off. “No but’s. You’ve both done amazing, but let’s not pretend. This isn’t the place for you, don’t think I hadn’t noticed.” Her expression was warm and understanding, as welcoming as the shades of fall. But despite how welcoming this season had been, it didn’t feel like home. 

“Go explore the land, go find somewhere that feels right y/n,” 

“What if…—” 

What if nowhere felt like home? What if you didn’t fit in anywhere else?

Elodie grabbed your hand with a tug then, someone had winnowed to the outskirts of the field. A figure with fiery hair and a tempered presence.

There was no time for what if’s. So you left. Left your cousin to face the flame, and left to find a new home…if that place even existed.

Winter

“Why are the bears awake?!” There was a scream across the forest that ran through the barren trees. You recognised the tone, one of your Winter mentors no doubt. The shriek so sharp that any remaining creature that slept must have surely been awoken.

“Oh no..” Elodie almost cried, her feet slipping in the snow beside you. You could almost hear her heart pounding in sync with yours.

The bear—the bear you had accidentally woken—groaned and yawned, its massive paws stirring the snow as it pawed at the air, confused and sluggish. Its hibernation had been broken, and it was far too early for it to be awake.

You had been at the Winter Court for only a short time, and already, things were falling apart. The sharp, biting cold of the court was one thing, but the coldness of its people? That had been harder to handle. Their bluntness, their stoic ways, had left you feeling like you were constantly on the edge of doing something wrong. And now… you had.

It seems Autumn was not the only season that didn’t agree with you. 

You blinked back your own tears, swallowing hard as you almost lost your own footing.

“Elodie, help me,” you commanded, snapping into action as you pushed against the bear’s thick fur, trying to guide it back to its den. The beast groaned again, but refused to budge, blinking its sleepy eyes at you.

The entirety of your weight was pushing against the giant bear that groaned against you, your heels digging in deep to act as an anchor in the cold white snow.

No matter how hard you tried, against your advice, the bear wanted to wake. 

“Go back to sleeeeeepp little beearrrr- hicc- pretty pleaseeee” Elodie sang desperately, her voice wobbling with panic.

“Elodie that is not the lullaby,” you hissed, your own frustration bubbling up.

“I know, I’m panicking. I’ve forgotten it, y/n. What is it?” She replied beside you, face squashed against the bear’s fur as she tried with all her might to push the bear back to its bed.

You blinked. You couldn’t remember the song either. 

You pressed harder, trying to remember the words yourself. Your breath was coming in ragged puffs, visible in the freezing air. Your wings, though hidden by magic, felt stiff from the cold, and your fingers ached from pushing against the giant furry animal.

By some stroke of luck after several attempts from Elodie to lull the bear back to sleep, the words of the forest lullaby found your tongue. Your magic flowed with the song, wrapping around the bear in a gentle embrace, lulling it back to sleep. Slowly, so slowly, it began to plod back toward its cave, its massive body sinking into it’s cosy bed deep within the cave.

“We did it,” Elodie breathed, her face as flushed and exhausted as you both slumped into the cold snow beneath you. The bears snoring filling the frosty air. “Maybe we got away with–” before Elodie could even finish her sentence, a shadow cast across you under the winter sun.

Your winter mentor, whose expression was as harsh as the court’s wind. Her cold, judging eyes swept over the scene, her lips pressed into a thin line as her long slender finger pointed towards the border.

Summer

It was everywhere.

Sand that is.

There was sand in your clothes, shoes, hair and even your pretty wings you always kept hidden— but that didn’t matter because that sticky Summer Court breeze would somehow ensure you were absolutely covered in it.

Blinking away yet again another gust of sand in your eye, you sat slouched under the shade of a canopy. 

You were on shell duty today, meaning you had been out in that blistering sun all day. You’d always enjoyed the heat you thought, but perhaps now you realised you enjoyed it in much smaller doses. 

That beacon in the sky felt especially relentless today. Your skin was burning to the touch, head heavy, dry throat and eyes stinging.

With a huff you watched as Elodie came and slumped down beside you. She went to nudge you gently with her shoulder, but you both gagged as your skin stuck and peeled away from one another with sweat. 

“I heard the Day court borders are open…” she muttered, glancing towards you, anticipating your reaction.

You didn’t like giving up. Call it Spring stubbornness, but it wasn’t in your nature.

After a moment you murmured back, “Is there sand in Day?”. You swallowed hard, eyes set ahead on the expansive blue ocean before you, the line where the water met the sky blurring in a haze.

“Not nearly as much as Summer,” Elodie replied in a beat.

You didn’t like giving up. But clearly Summer didn’t agree with you either.

“Let’s go.”

Day

Perhaps it was your series of bad luck that had now left you with an attitude of indifference but as you crouched behind the freshly preened hedge you wondered how quickly your impeccable reputation had crumbled on your travels.

You were now about to commit a crime.

Perhaps crime was a bit dramatic. But trespassing was still trespassing. Trespassing on the High Lords home too.

You had been here over a month now. The Day Court wasn’t unpleasant—far from it. The libraries were vast, the streets safe, and the people, though indulgent, were kind. Yet something within you stirred restlessly, a quiet unease that had only grown with time. You had given it weeks, trying to settle in, hoping the feeling of displacement would fade. But it hadn’t. Every corner of this sunlit paradise felt like it belonged to someone else.

It didn’t feel like home.

So your papers were arranged. Tomorrow, you'd travel to Dawn, hoping to find something there that felt more like yours.

But before you left, there was one thing you had to see. One thing that had tugged at your curiosity since the moment you'd arrived: the Pegasuses. Said to be the pride of the Day Court, magnificent creatures kept under Helion’s personal protection, far from the eyes of the public.

That was why you were here now, slipping through the shadows of Helion’s estate, your heart racing in your chest. The Pegasuses weren’t just for show, or figments of stories; they were alive, breathing, and you wanted—no, needed—to see them yourself. Call it that fairy instinct, but you weren’t leaving till you saw them with your own eyes.

Your path led you through twisting gardens, till you found yourself at the heart of Helion’s estate. You crouched quietly behind the foliage, praying to the mother you’d catch a glimpse of what you’d been searching for.

Your breath caught in your throat. 

There they were. 

An entire herd of them, grazing peacefully. The sunlight gleaming on their coats. A shimmering silver that resembled the glow of your own wings. The sight of them took your breath away. They were even more magnificent than you’d imagined.

So magnificent that just looking wasn’t enough.

With a swift quietness and feather light steps you moved from your hiding place towards the herd. 

If Elodie could see you now, you’d be sure to be scolded. You’d left her with the cute librarian in the city, told her to enjoy her last day. That you still had papers to sort– she didn’t need to be an accomplice in what you were committing. She didn’t need to know.

The Pegasuses flicked their ears, one of them lifting their head to look at you. You froze for a moment, the hairs on your arms rising, anticipating their reaction but as it blew a breath there was an ease that settled over you.

They didn’t shy away, as if they’d always known you were there. As if they had been waiting for you to pluck up the courage to meet them.

Marvellous creatures.

One of them stepped towards you, meeting your hand as it grazed across the plain on its face. Your gaze ran down its back to its wings that stretched out and then flanked back in.

“Well aren’t you beautiful..” You sighed with a smile, your fingers scratching the sweet spot behind its ear, its hoof tapping against the earth as if in agreement.

You’re not sure how time had passed, but it was distant laughter that blew in on a breeze that reminded you just how precarious your situation was.

“Come Rhys, come see my pride and joy…” A voice chimed across the garden.

You didn’t need to stick around to guess whose voice that belonged to, so with a gentle kiss against the velvety nose of the Pegasus you bid your farewell. Quick as a sprite, you slipped back into the shadows.

Just as you reached the edge of the estate, you glanced back over your shoulder. Offering a sweet smile to the Pegasuses you had met, hoping that despite Day not feeling like home your paths would cross with the magnificent creatures again.

It was Azriel who stood by the golden archway in the garden. Watching as Helion presented the treasures he boasted so often about– the beautiful Pegasuses that were now grazing in front of them.

“I would like one..for Feyre,” Azriel heard Rhys try to negotiate with Helion, their voices blending over the soft breeze and rustles from the animals. That he hadn’t even noticed his gaze had fallen elsewhere, all the way to the border of the estate he noticed a rustle in the leaves, a flicker of light perhaps, but there was a faintest scent of something on the wind—a hint of honey and peonies. 

He paused, tilting his head as if attuned to something that beckoned him, though he couldn’t quite place it, but maybe with time he would.

Dawn

Imbuing the sky sounded easy. Fun even– But as you glanced up at the Dawn sky that resembled something more like dusk you swallowed hard. 

The golden hues of the Dawn Court greeted you with a warmth that felt almost too soft. Here, everything shimmered with the glow of early morning—pastel skies, the gentle rustling of trees in the breeze, and the constant hum of quiet tranquillity. It should have felt peaceful. It should have felt right.

But instead, it felt fragile. Like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

You had tried. When you first arrived, you thought maybe this would be the place. The Dawn Court was steeped in a quiet sort of magic—delicate, but powerful. It suited you in theory: a blend of intellect and beauty, the balance of light and creation. You had forced yourself to adapt, to fit into the patterns they laid before you, hoping this time, this Court, would finally feel like home.

But when tasked with the simple task of imbuing the sky, it had stirred something deeper, something darker, and the sky had responded.

You opened your eyes, gasping in horror as you watched the colours bleed across the horizon—not the pale blush of dawn, but the rich, burning tones of dusk. Deep oranges, purples, and indigos streaked across the sky like a wildfire, swallowing the soft morning light with every passing second.

The magic swirled around you like a storm, the sky thick with colour, draping over your skin like an ink-stained canvas. You tried to stop it, to pull it back, but it wouldn’t listen. The darker hues clung to you, soaking into your skin, wrapping around you like tendrils of shadow. 

From dawn to dusk and then to twilight.. 

It was beautiful in a way—if only it wasn’t so terribly wrong.

“Don’t.” You bit out through gritted teeth, stopping Elodie from saying anything. The deep purple hue of sky covered you. The shimmer iridescent resembled something of a paint, but it was almost too beautiful to even be compared to that.

You didn’t even wait for your Dawn mentors to scold you. Simply went to pack your things and leave. 

Lip quivering at another failed court, another failed attempt at finding home.

Night

The Night Court was the only place left. The last court you hadn’t yet tried, the last hope you had of finding where you truly belonged.

Which at this point you felt as though living amongst the thorns of Spring was a better option. You should never have left. Perhaps this was your punishment for abandoning your court, despite having no other option.

Your fingers tried to brush away the sky that was still infused to your skin, you looked ridiculous. As if you’d painted yourself in the night court's colours out of admiration. You were grateful the midnight hues concealed how embarrassed you looked.

The Night Court was a stark contrast to the sunlit lands you had just fled. Shadows danced among the trees, and a cool breeze whispered amongst the glistening stars.

It truly was beautiful.

But there was a looming weight with that realisation. Every court you'd experienced was beautiful– in its own unique way. So why would Night be any different? Why should you believe this would be the court where you truly belonged?

“Papers please,” A soft voice broke through, a female was reading through your documentation. Dorned in a dark robe, Illyarin soldiers flanking her sides.

She quirked a brow as she took in your appearance.

“It’s just sky…” Elodie butted in as if it was a normal occurrence– normal for one to be covered in the celestial shimmers of the sky. You swore you heard the High Fae mutter something under her breath, a small bite about meadow fairies that had the males beside her snicker. However after a quick assessment, she waved you both through. 

You had assumed this admission would feel like every other court, plain, dull, but the moment your feet stepped across the border there was a simmering in your chest. It was as if the Night Court itself was welcoming you, the ancient forest shifting its branches above to clear a path for the stars to twinkle down upon you. The gentle breeze carried the distant melodies of the city, wrapping around you like a soft embrace.

You dared to speak of what you were feeling, but one quick glance at your friend and you could see she felt it too. A twinkle sparkled in her eyes as she shared a smile with you, a silent exchange that spoke of hope and dreams. For the first time in what felt like ages, laughter bubbled between you, light and carefree. You clasped each other’s hands, giggling at the energy and magic you were feeling.

There was something about this place, something that felt so familiar–

So enamoured by your senses you hadn’t even been paying attention when you bumped into something solid.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” you sputtered quickly, a breathless laugh escaping your lips before Elodie gasped, pulling you back into the crowd of newcomers.

“You just bumped into an Illyrian!” she whispered urgently, her wide eyes darting over her shoulder.

Your gaze followed, landing on the broad backs of two towering Illyrian males. One had long, dark hair, loosely tied back, his wings flexing slightly in the night breeze. The other, taller with shadows whispering around him, his presence somehow more commanding– more intriguing. Your eyes lingered on him the longest, an odd tug pulling at your chest.

“Oops…” you shrugged, voice bright with laughter as Elodie tugged you further into the crowd, your chuckles mingling with the hum of the night.

You hadn’t felt this carefree in so long, hadn’t felt this light. As the lights of Velaris approached and the noise of music filled your ears you had a feeling that perhaps this was all going to work out okay.

That perhaps you had found somewhere you belonged after all.

𓇢𓆸

Azriel felt the brush of something against his side and turned slightly, pulling him from his conversation with cassian. They had both been sent to do border control, and had watched an array of individuals enter the court. It was his job as Spymaster after all, whether it be from the shadows or to stand in example at the borders he would vet the newcomers.

The night had been slow, no disturbances, no conflicts– uneventful. Just how he liked it. Only people seeking a fresh start had crossed into Night. He took pride in knowing so many chose his home for that new beginning. He was listening to Cassian as he gushed something about Nesta, when a light nudge to his side had pulled him from conversation.

They stood in the centre of the track that ran from the forest to the city, the two males, a stoic divide, as people flowed around them like a river parting. Except one– you. 

You hadn’t moved around him.

Lightly, as though your thoughts had been tangled with the stars above, you had brushed against Azriel. His shadows hadn’t even warned him of your approach, and for a brief second, his breath caught at the softness of your touch. He turned, drawn to the quiet apology that lingered in the air, following the sound with his eyes.

And there you were.

You shimmered, wrapped in twilight, your skin glistening in the soft hues of the night sky as though the heavens themselves had adorned you. It was hard to distinguish where the night ended and you began, your form almost blending with the dark expanse around you.

But before he could speak, before he could even process what he was feeling, you disappeared into the crowd. A fleeting figure, gone in an instant, leaving him staring after you.

Azriel’s shadows hummed beside him, them too grappling with a need to know more.

He hadn’t caught your name, hadn’t had the chance to see your face clearly, but something about you had gripped him, held him in place. The faint scent of honey and peonies lingered in the air where you'd passed, stirring something deep within him.

Instead of words or answers, Azriel was left with a feeling—a pull. One he couldn't quite explain, but one he hoped to find an answer for.

a/n: Thank you for the wait...but here is the beginning of our favourite fairy and Azriel. I actually started writing this when I was visiting @writingcroissant in Edinburgh and we were sat in a little cafe till 10pm writing our little fics! It was so fun <3 (I'm still awaiting Crush...no pressure ;) ) I'm so glad it's finally finished. It was so hard to keep the stories this short, I feel like I could have easily explored more of fairy's travels in the courts (It wasn't all bad experiences I promise) lots of good memories too, so perhaps I will explore another time. But I hope you enjoyed the little connections to Azriel even though they still don't know each other yet tee hee

This is also dedicated to @searchingforbucky I'm pretty sure you said you were excited to read this/I said I would write something for you (If i have got it wrong, correct me) so here you are my lovely! Thank you for constant support.

Sorry to everyone that there isn't much Azriel and romance in this, Wings really has become a world of it's own at this point but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Please please please let me know what you want from these two next <3 - lottie xxx

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

Wings tags: @minaethrym

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Fix You (Azriel x healer!reader)

summary: Azriel falls for the healer and finds new random reasons to see her, but he never let’s her help when he’s truly hurt.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: warnings: mentions injuries and blood

Never in a million years would you have dreamed of such an opportunity presenting itself to you, but after the battle of Velaris, your healing magic became rather well known among the locals. Eventually, word of your abilities reached the high lord, and he requested to meet with you. Now, ten months later, you are learning about tonics, salves, the anatomy of illyrian wings, and so much more to use along side your magic.

“One last thing. Rhysand said that Azriel is requesting assistance. Could you go tend to his injuries before you go home?”

You hide your laugh and agree to go. This is the fifth time this month that Azriel has requested a healer. It would make sense that the spymaster of the night court would need healing after missions, but he never asks for help with that. Most recently, he came by the infirmary to ask you for a cream that will help with sore muscles. Sometimes he asks for healing after training when Cassian roughs him up a bit too much, but even then, its minor injuries. One time he even used Cassian as an excuse, claiming the general needed some medicine for a cold, but later that day Cassian seemed perfectly fine to you.

Your friends think Azriel must have a crush on you and that’s why he always seeks you out, but that’s crazy. And besides, you heard a rumor that he has feelings for the high lady’s sister, Elain. But who could blame him, she's perfect.

You arrive at the House of Wind and head for the shadowsinger’s room. The house was quiet, meaning Cassian and Nesta must be gone. As you walk towards his room, you see a shadow dart across the floor, brushing against your ankle as it flies by and making you giggle. Before you can even knock, Azriel opens his door, apparently alerted by the shadow.

“Good evening. You requested a healer?” He nods and opens the door wider to invite you in and sits on the corner of his bed.

“Cassian accidentally cut me with his sword when we were sparring this morning. The skin has healed, but it’s still hurting. I figured you could use some of that fancy healing magic on it so I’m not slacking at training tomorrow.” He extends his arm, and just like he said, theres a jagged pink scar running up the length of his tan, muscular forearm.

You agree and sit next to him, taking hold of his arm and placing your hand over the scar. A warm sensation spreads from your palm to his arm, and moments later, the raised scar is nothing more than a faint line. You hold on for a few moments longer than necessary, your eyes fixated on his hands. There was something you found so beautiful and alluring about the scars, you didn’t even notice your fingertips slowly trailing towards his hands. As soon as your fingertips brush against the edge of the scarred skin, Azriel jerks his arm away and stands up.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you trail off.

“It’s fine.” He snaps, avoiding your gaze to look at the wall behind you. “Thanks for the help.” His voice is softer now, but you can tell he’s upset. You hesitate, trying to figure out how to resolve this uncomfortable situation, but inevitably, you decide it’s best to leave.

“Happy to help. Have a good night.” You leave quickly, trying to avoid making things more awkward.

The entire way home, you berate yourself for doing something so foolish. One of the first things you learned about healing is to not make your patient more uncomfortable when you heal them. And there you were, touching something that obviously would make him uncomfortable. You don’t know the details about how his hands got so scarred, but with his fae healing, it can’t have been pretty. It reminds you of a patient you had a few years back with similar burns. You were constantly making cream to soothe the residual pain for them. You wonder if Azriel’s hands still hurt from time to time…

———

Azriel’s POV

“Do you plan to injure yourself again during training today, brother?” Cassian teases. “I see yesterday’s cut has healed already. Did a certain healer come by your room last night?”

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” I say gruffly and continue eating my breakfast.

“Why won’t you just ask her out?” He speaks with a mouth full of food, earning an annoyed look from Nesta.

“Because there’s no way that someone like her… it doesn’t matter. I’m over her now. Moving on.” I keep my gaze locked on the plate in front of me.

Last night, I tried to work up the courage to say something—anything, really. But when she touched me and I felt that magic run through me, I couldn’t think of anything but how beautiful she looked. I can’t help but remember the feeling of her hands on me, warm and comforting. And then, when she touched my hand, every horrible thought and insecurity ran through my head. How could someone so perfect ever want to be with someone so… damaged?

That’s also why I never seek her out when I return from missions. I don’t want her to see who I really am when I leave Velaris. One look at me with enemy blood on my hands and my own blood on my body, and she will run scared just like everyone else does. I’m just not ready for that rejection yet.

“I don’t believe that for a damn second, Az. You’re just scared. Take a chance, it could work out.” Nesta tries to be supportive, but she doesn’t get it. None of my friends do. I pretend to agree, but only to end the conversation quicker and move on to a new topic. Cassian gives a skeptical look, but moves on to discussing the evening’s plans.

———

Your POV

Two weeks pass, and you haven’t seen or heard from Azriel. It shouldn’t bother you this much, but you can’t help but miss his occasional visits, the way his shadows swirl around your ankles, the sound of his voice, the way he towers over you. Maybe you should find a reason to visit him. After all, he’s spent months coming up with ridiculous reasons to see you, you can do the same, right?

You look around your workstation at the various creams, tonics, and salves, eventually finding some that he would maybe find useful. Heading to the House of Wind, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous.

When you arrive, you see the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, walking through the foyer. “Hello. I was wondering if you could help me find Azriel. I have something for him.” You try to sound confident, but her smirk tells you she sees right through you.

“He’s at the training ring. The Valkyries and I just finished training, so it’s probably just him and Cassian up there.” You thank her and head that way.

When you arrive at the training ring, you are immediately stopped in your tracks by the sight of Azriel and Cassian sparring. You had always known the general had a nice body; you had healed it several times before. But Azriel… you have never seen such a glorious sight. The way the corded muscles of his back ripple when he moves and the way his wings, which were much larger than Cassian’s, were spread wide, you couldn’t help but stare. Eventually, Cassian notices you. He smirked, and then immediately moved to disarm Azriel, nicking him with the tip of the blade.

“What the hell, Cass? Why did you-“ Azriel turns and sees you. He turns back to Cassian, who has a shit eating grin on his face.

“Good thing your favorite healer is here to help.” You can’t help but blush at his words. Did Azriel talk about you to Cassian? “I’ll leave you two to it.” He saunters off, leaving you alone with Azriel. Azriel stands quietly for a moment, just staring at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the silence is killing you, and it’s taking all of your strength to not stare at the sweat dripping down his muscular body.

“I brought you something. You had mentioned once that you get headaches a lot. I have this tonic that can help with that. I figured I would bring it by.” You awkwardly fumble through your bag for the bottle, handing it to him. He looks at the bottle, then at you, a confused expression on his face. “Did you want me to help with that cut or…” you trail off, unsure of how to proceed.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks. And thanks for the tonic. I’ll be sure to try it next time I get a headache.” He sits on a nearby bench, and you sit next to him. Reaching towards the cut, you realize you need to avoid what happened last time and ask for permission to touch him.

“May I?” He nods, and you place your hand over the small cut on his jaw. You feel his shadows swirling around your hand, almost curious about your actions. Your fingers trail over his sharp jaw line in admiration. “All done.” You stand and step away, waiting to see if he will say anything. You were about to leave, but you apparently can’t leave well enough alone, so you dig through your bag again.

“I have this other stuff you might want.” You find the soothing cream. “I had a patient a few years ago with burns similar to yours. She told me her scars would hurt occasionally, so I would make this cream for her. I don’t know if that happens to you as well, but if you want it, it’s yours.” You reach out to hand him the cream, but he just stares at you.

After a few moments, you awkwardly set it on the bench next to him. “Okay then. I’ll see you around.” You turn to leave, eager to end this train wreck of an interaction. You hurried out so quickly, that you didn’t hear the faint “thank you” coming from Azriel.

———

Several days pass without seeing Azriel. Gods, you were definitely so out of line with the cream. He probably doesn’t like to talk about the scars. You shouldn’t have gone to find him in the first place. He was obviously avoiding you. The bell above the door rings, indicating a patient has entered.

“One moment!” You call from the back of the workstation. When you make your way to the front room, you are surprised to see Azriel.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly.

“I’m sorry for my rude behavior the other day. I didn’t know how to respond to your kind gesture. No one has ever…” he trails off, setting the empty container of hand cream on the counter. “It helped a lot. I was wondering if you had any more?” Your face lights up, causing him to smile as well.

“Of course! Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” You rush excitedly to the storeroom. It was always such a wonderful feeling to help a patient feel better, but having been right about this made you feel so happy. You return with three containers of cream. “This one is the same as the one I gave you. This one is infused with lavender. And this one is infused with eucalyptus.” You explain excitedly. He chuckles at your eagerness.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know which smell I like best.” He smiles softly. “And thank you for before. For noticing. No one has ever taken notice like that before. People usually don’t like to even look at my hands, nonetheless, ask about it.” You blush.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the burns? It may help me formulate a more customized soothing cream for you in the future if I know how you got them. Only if you’re comfortable sharing.” Azriel sucks in a deep breath and looks at his hands.

“The details are… unpleasant.“ He hesitates. “Oil was poured over my hands and lit on fire. My bro-“ he pauses. “The people who did this ensured that I healed as they burned, so that the scarring was worse. Now I’m stuck with these ugly scars.” You try to hold back the tears in your eyes. How could somebody be so cruel and vicious as to do that to someone? “The pain is usually a sharp ache around my knuckles and fingers, if that helps.” He mutters quietly, avoiding your gaze. You hesitantly reach for his hand. He looks surprised by this, but lets you. You hold his large hand in both of yours and look deep into his eyes.

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. No one deserves such treatment. And your scars are not ugly, they represent what you have overcome.” Azriel blushes. A small shadow glides over your hands as you hold his, pulling a giggle from you. “The shadows are kinda cute.”

Azriel looks at you with surprise again. “Most people are afraid of them.” You watch a shadow weave between your fingers, letting go of Azriel’s hand to play with the shadow.

The two of you talk for a while longer before he eventually leaves. A smile stays on your face for the rest of the evening.

———

A week later.

You’re awoken late in the night by a chilly feeling across your skin. Assuming you forgot to shut your window, you groggily open your eyes to stand, but when you do, you see several shadows swirling around you and your room.

Panic immediately sets in. You have never seen Azriel’s shadows move in such a way, almost frantic. And the shadowsinger himself is nowhere near Velaris, supposedly on a mission, according to what Cassian said days ago. The shadows swirl around you, tugging you to stand. You throw on your coat and follow the shadows, praying to the gods that you don’t find what you think you will.

Upon arrival at the House of Wind, you hear panicked voices and yelling. You rush towards the commotion, finding a bloody mess when you arrive. You run towards Cassian and Nesta, trying to see what’s wrong, but when you look down, you see it.

Azriel. Covered in blood. Several arrows sticking out of his abdomen and wings, reeking of faebane. You immediately crouch and begin to inspect the damage.

“Cauldron, what happened? How long has he been hurt? Where is Madja?” You fire off a string of questions, not bothering to wait for an answer. Azriel groans in pain, barely conscious, with his eyes shut.

“He just winnowed here like this. We don’t know what happened, he pretty much passed out as soon as he got here.” Cassian looks at you nervously. “I tried to pull one of the arrows out, but the wounds won’t heal. The arrows are dipped in faebane.”

“Go get a bucket of water, a washcloth, and bandages.” You order to no one in particular before assessing the best plan for removal. When Nesta returns with the materials, you begin to remove the first arrow from his abdomen. Luckily, it didn’t hit any vital organs. When the arrow finally is removed, Azriel yells in pain.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just stay still and it will be over soon.” You try your best to use a soothing voice, but the shakiness is still evident. You get the second arrow out of his abdomen and begin to clean the wounds, working your healing magic as you go. Cassian and Nesta are standing over you, watching nervously, which only makes you more anxious.

“I got the worst of the injuries handled, he’s going to be fine. I still need to work on his wings, which may take a while and won’t be pretty. You two may want to go for now.” You say, not looking away from Azriel. Cassian and Nesta reluctantly leave, promising to return with the others in a bit.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.” You warn Azriel, who’s still unconscious, while you grip the arrow in his upper left wing and work to remove it. As soon as the arrow moves slightly through his wing, his eyes open wide and he howls in pain. He looks at you, just now noticing that it’s you tending to his injuries, and looks panicked.

“Wh-what… how are you here?” He rasps, wincing as the arrow is fully removed. He tries to sit up, but you force him to remain laying down.

“Your shadows found me. I figured you sent them.”

“No. They’re supposed to find Madja or Feyre if I get badly injured. I don’t know why they went to you.” He says gruffly. You try not to get upset by his words as you begin to stitch and heal the wound. Something about his demeanor is vastly different from how he usually acts, colder even.

"Well, you got me instead. Sorry to disappoint.” You mutter, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. You can tell he wants to say something else, but as soon as you grab ahold of the second arrow, all he can manage is groans and curses.

After you remove the third and final arrow, Azriel speaks. “You’re not supposed to be the one who handles my major injuries.” You can’t hide the pain in your eyes, so you look away to focus on working your healing magic on the final wound and bandaging it.

“I can handle more than basic tonics and minor injuries, you know.” You say quietly, cleaning away some of the blood with a washcloth. You gather the bloodied cloths and arrows, moving quickly to dispose of them.

“I know you can. I just don’t want-“ his words are cut short by the high lord rushing in, immediately requesting a status update. Azriel didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was about to say. He doesn’t want you here. You turn from Azriel to give Rhysand a full briefing on the injuries and the expected recovery process. After calming a bit, he begins to help Azriel up and to his room.

“It looks like you’re in good hands. I’m going to go update Madja on the situation so she can manage your recovery.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. Before he can say anything else, you’re gone.

———

You avoid Azriel for a couple weeks. Every time he tries to come to the infirmary, you send another healer to take care of him. You couldn’t help asking Madja how his recovery was progressing, but she refused to tell you, stating that you were perfectly capable of asking him yourself. You know that you aren’t as skilled as Madja in some aspects of being a healer, but you never thought that Azriel would doubt your abilities. You guess that’s why he never asked for your help after missions. Maybe those months of ridiculous requests were just a joke to him, something to laugh about with his friends.

The sun goes down, signaling that it’s time for you to head home. You say goodbye to Madja and leave out the front door.

“Y/n.” You immediately turn toward the voice. Waiting by the door, you find Azriel. You look him up and down, assessing for injuries and observing his healing progress. The scars on his wings are only faint marks now.

“You look like you’re healing well. If you need medical attention, I suggest asking a more skilled healer, like Madja.” You say bitterly, walking past him. He sighs heavily.

“I didn’t mean to upset you that night. You weren’t supposed to see me like that.” He follows behind you, catching up quickly due to his long legs.

"Yes, you made that very clear. You didn’t want me there, you don’t trust me to handle your manor healing. I heard you loud and clear.” You refuse to look at him.

"No, that’s not-“ You turn down a side road suddenly, trying to evade him. “I know you can handle healing my more serious injuries, I just didn’t want you there.” You stop and stare at him, slightly in disbelief at his words. Is he really this cruel, or is he just really this bad at speaking to people? He reads your expression and backtracks.

“No, it’s not that I don’t want you around, I just don’t want you there.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Gods, I’m just making this worse. Can I start over?” You don’t respond, but he takes the fact that you aren’t walking away as a yes.

“I didn’t want you to handle my major injuries because, when I’m focused on my missions, I am a completely different person. I hate who I am outside of this city. I hate what I have to do, but I do it to protect my court and protect my family. When I get back, it sometimes takes me a while to get back to normal. I didn’t want you to see me like that, so I wouldn’t scare you off. It seems I managed to do that anyway, so I guess I was right to stay away.” You finally look at him. Who treated him so poorly to make him think so low of himself?

You take a step closer to him and look into his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of you that night. I was scared that you could’ve died. I was scared of the way you pushed me away. But never of you. I’ve healed fae from all over with horrible histories, grusome wounds, and severe PTSD. You’re job is hard, but you shouldn’t handle that burden alone.”

“You spend enough of your time fixing people, I don’t want to be another person you feel like you need to fix.” He says in a self loathing tone.

“You aren’t broken, Azriel. You don’t need fixing, just support.” You take his hand. “Let me be there for you. Let me be your friend. Please.” He stares at your hand holding his for a few moments.

“What if I don’t want you as my friend?” You frown, and he immediately realizes how that must have come across as you attempt to pull your hand away. He tightens his grip on your hand. “What I mean is, will you go to dinner with me? Like, on a date?” You look at him surprised, blushing hard. “Cmon, y/n. I thought I was pretty obvious that I have feelings for you with my dozens of ridiculous injuries and requests.” He chuckles.

“I would love to get dinner, Azriel.” He gives you a wide smile. The two of you begin to walk side by side down the street. After a few moments of silence, Azriel speaks.

“Now that you’re no longer mad at me, can I have more of that soothing cream? I’ve been out for like a week, but I’ve been too afraid to ask you for more.” You laugh.

“Of course you can.”

Have a great weekend everyone!!