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illyrianbitch · 13 hours ago

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Are We Still Friends? — Part Five

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: A chance encounter offers a break from your tangled thoughts about Azriel. Meanwhile, Az reaches a pivotal realization.

Warnings: training, sparring and weapon use, severe overthinking, longing, brief use of recreational drugs (lovely 'mirthroot')

Word Count: 7.1k

Part Four

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Even in the early hours, the heat was suffocating.

You’d been half-tempted to cancel on Mor, to crawl back under the covers and enjoy the blissful cool of your room. But you knew better. Mor would’ve winnowed straight into your bedroom, dragged you out of bed, and reminded you that you’d made a promise.

So now, here you were, on the training grounds, sweat already collecting at your brow, watching Azriel and Cassian spar on the far side.

Both of the males were dressed in their usual head-to-toe leathers, though Cassian seemed just as bothered by the weather as you. You’d noticed he’d trained shirtless more often lately, something you attributed to the presence of his mate, but today he was fully covered. It probably had something to do with the steady, focused gaze Az held. Something to be cautious of. Wary.

Unlike his brother, Azriel’s expression was detached, as if the sun didn’t touch him at all— like he was completely unbothered by the sweltering heat. His wings shifted slightly against the back of his leathers, but that was the extent of his discomfort, if any.

You’d never visited Illyria in the summer months, never experienced the full brutality of its heat. Perhaps it was there, under that oppressive sun, that Azriel had learned to manage heat in such attire. But, then again, Az was entirely too skilled at masking what he actually felt.

Something about him, now before you, made you want to continue staring—his wings, the way his body moved with the smoothness of a predator, the effortless strength in the curve of his form. Lately, everything about Azriel had been doing that— distracting you. Overwhelming you. Calling to you like a siren song. His voice, his smile, the way he moved.

A laugh from Mor pulled you from your thoughts.

"It’s a shame the healing balm worked so well," Her voice teased from behind you. You turned at the sound, watching as she tossed a sword from one hand to the other with an ease that was almost poetic. "Seeing you turned me into a softie, you know. All those bruises and that pouty face— I had to go easy because I felt bad for you.”

You snorted, catching the blade she tossed your way. "Oh, so that’s the only reason I beat you last week? Because you were going easy on me?"

Her grin widened. “Yeah. But Runa got too many hits on you. You’re rusty. So maybe I’m not doing you any favors by going easy." She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe Cassian’s been going too easy on you, too."

“Or maybe,” you shot back, stepping into the ring, “I was just going easy on a citizen.”

Mor’s laugh was loud and unapologetic as she followed you. "You’re saying that like you didn’t know exactly who she was when you threw the first punch."

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head as you squared up to her. “Okay, can we maybe stop reminiscing over my recent regrettable actions? Please?”

“Never.” She slid into a stance with ease. “But if you beat me, I’ll stop laughing about it for a week.”

“Only a week?”

“That’s all you’ll get, babe.”

You rolled your eyes, lips still curved in a grin. “Fine. Deal.”

And then, without hesitation, Mor lunged. Your blades collided with a sharp ring, the sound vibrating up your arms. You let the adrenaline of the fight pull you out of your thoughts, focusing on the female in front of you.

It was easy to forget, sometimes, that before anything else, Morrigan was a warrior. Graceful, clever, and impossibly skilled. The kind of fighter who didn’t rely on brute strength but on speed, precision, and an uncanny ability to read her opponent. Skills she’d learnt to outmaneuver and beat males that may have been twice her size, twice her age. And if you looked hard enough, past her glittering makeup and the plethora of gold jewelry she adorned, you’d notice the scars scattered across her body, small slices from knives and swords that didn’t have enough time to heal during the first war.

Mor didn’t hold back, her strikes coming faster, sharper, until your muscles burned from the effort of keeping up.

From across the ring, Cassian’s booming laugh carried over, followed by what sounded like a gruff remark from Azriel. You glanced over almost instinctively, your eyes following the movement of Az’s shadows. They twisted around him, stretching into the shaded spaces between Cassian’s body and the ground, curling around the general’s feet in an attempt to constrict his movements.

Mor’s grin widened as she caught your sword mid-swing. “You’re distracted,” she said.

You twisted to break free, stubbornly meeting her gaze. “Am not.”

You tried to return to the rhythm of the fight, but Mor was right. You were distracted. Every glance in Azriel’s direction made your heart race, your mind spiral. Even from across the yard, you could feel the heat of his presence. It threw you off balance. And before you knew it, Mor disarmed you, sending you crashing to the ground with a grunt.

“Like I said,” she hummed, smirking as she extended a hand to help you up. “Distracted.”

“Maybe a bit.” You winced, rolling your shoulders as you stood straight. “I have too much on my mind. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Mor tilted her head. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head, wiping at the sweat on your brow. “That’s the last thing I want to do, actually.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, assessing you before she nodded. “Well, we just got some new weapons last week—I’ve been dying to test them out.”

You raised a brow. “What kind of weapons?”

Mor shrugged. “Not sure. Rhys says they’re lighter. I think you’ll like them.” She grabbed your discarded sword, tossing both it and hers onto the rack with ease. “You’re too cautious for a regular sword anyway. You don’t like getting hit.”

“No one likes getting hit.”

“True,” she said, laughing slightly as she bumped your shoulder. “But you’re smart about it. Always letting them exhaust themselves first.”

“Go get them,” you nodded to her. “I want to try them out.”

Mor grinned. “Good. Then I can start kicking your ass with them, too.”

She turned to leave, and you watched her go, ready to grab some water. But then, just as you were about to turn, you felt it—a presence behind you. You knew it in your bones, from the soft breeze you swore his shadows danced in, that it was Azriel. Still, when you turned and saw him standing there, you felt unprepared, like something in your chest tightened, hot and sharp, like heartburn. You shoved it down, burying it deeper, just like you had been doing all week.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re really gonna let her beat you like that?”

You ran a hand over your face, trying to settle your racing pulse. “What can I say, it’s been an off couple of weeks.”

It was hard not to notice how close he stood, the way his presence seemed to fill the space, pushing the air around you in a way that made it harder to breathe.

“Yeah,” Azriel glanced at you, and his expression softened just a fraction. “Are you okay? I mean, now?”

You nodded too fast. “Yeah. Just hot. Overwhelmed.”

He studied you, his brow slightly furrowed, but there was something else behind it. Something he wasn’t saying.

“You can’t possibly be comfortable,” you said, gesturing at his leathers. “Aren’t you boiling alive?”

Azriel tilted his head as if considering your question, then replied evenly, “I’m alright.”

“You’re lying,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at him. “You have to be.”

That earned you a faint smile, a quick twitch of his lips that you might have missed if you weren’t already watching him too closely.

“You’re welcome to try them on,” he said smoothly. “See how they feel.”

You blinked, a small flutter echoing in your chest at the teasing edge in his voice. You frowned and said to him, “I’m wearing the exact same thing as you.”

“Mine are different.” His smile tugged again. “They’re cooling leathers.”

“Really? That's a thing?”

The look he gave you— a mix of amusement and something else— told you everything you needed to know. You scowled at him, but there was no real heat behind it. “You’re messing with me.”

When your eyes met his again, they were practically glowing in amusement. He shrugged, and his shadows seemed to dance with the motion— still clinging close to him, hiding from the sun, but seemingly content despite it. He gave you a quick, warm smile— as if he were afraid for the rest of the public to see.

“I am,” he replied, leaning closer. “My leathers are, sadly, just as basic as yours.”

The sunlight caught in his hair when he stood like this, painting it with faint golden streaks. Along with your growing frustration at the heat, your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of him. You fanned your face with one hand, trying to ignore the ache building in your chest. You blamed the sun for making it tight.

You suddenly became aware of your presentation—of the disheveled way you must have looked. Your hair had fallen loose during the sparring with Mor, strands clinging to the sweat at your neck, a messy halo around your face. You reached back, gathering it in both hands, attempting to tighten the hold of your hair tie. As you twisted it around, the elastic snapped, the sharp sting of it flicking against your skin.

“Shit.”

A quiet sigh left you as the broken tie dangled uselessly from your fingers. Of course. As if you didn’t already feel like disaster enough. You pushed your hair back again, fingers combing through the tangled strands, debating whether to leave it down or try to secure it with something else.

You realized, quickly, that perhaps this small inconvenience was a blessing in disguise— a reason to walk away from the conversation, to regain control of your scattered thoughts. You opened your mouth to excuse yourself, to say you needed to go put your hair up, but before you could, Azriel spoke.

“Wait.”

You paused, turning back toward him as he reached into one of the hidden pockets of his leathers. When he pulled out a hair tie, your eyebrows shot up.

“What—”

Azriel’s expression was uncharacteristically sheepish as he handed it over. “You always wear the same one. I noticed the band was wearing out. It was only a matter of time before it broke.”

“You… noticed that?”

His shadows shifted around him, curling between you two, and he subtly gestured toward them with his chin. “They did.”

Your fingers closed around the band as you stared at him. “So you’ve been carrying this around just in case?”

He nodded and you blinked at him, unsure if you should laugh or melt into the floor. “That… is very considerate of you.”

Az glanced at you, quiet for a moment, before he replied. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to snap and pick a fight with someone because you're overstimulated with your hair clinging to your skin. I’m just trying to protect the public.”

You rolled your eyes at that, though the thought of your family endlessly reminding you of your actions over the past few weeks made the corners of your mouth twitch. The infamous calm you’d prided yourself on—gone. You’d be hearing about your fight with a citizen for at least the next century.

“Shut up,” you said, but your heart still stuttered painfully. “But, also, thank you,” you added, focusing on twisting your hair into a knot to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Better?”

Your throat felt tight as you looked up once more, meeting his molten gaze. “Yeah,” you said. “Better.”

Azriel nodded, stepping back to give you space again. But you caught the faint curve of his lips, the small, quiet smile that made your chest ache.

You felt some relief as the wind ruffled your now-updo, but your thoughts circled.

Azriel had proven to be a male of his word. He’d spent the past two weeks showing you, in every way he could, that he was sorry. It wasn’t loud or showy—Azriel never was—but his apology seeped into the small, thoughtful things he did. Helping with reports, lighting your room’s fireplace when it got too cold. Nothing demanding, but everything that proved he was trying.

It almost felt normal again, like you and Azriel had fallen back into your usual rhythm. Your routine.

Almost.

“Good luck,” Azriel said, nodding toward where Mor was returning with the new weapons. He leaned in slowly, his shadows drifting between your shoulders, curling in the pocket of shadow created by your closeness. “And, if you want… we can go flying afterward. To celebrate you beating Mor.”

The idea of being so close to him, of having him hold you to his chest, feeling his heartbeat against yours as he carried you, made your stomach churn, made you feel nauseous. Nervous. But you nodded anyway, smiled like it was just another plan, like old times. It felt tight. Diplomatic.

“Okay,” you managed to say.

Azriel smiled, and you heard Mor’s voice asking what you were conspiratorially talking about. You didn’t answer, didn’t bother to pay attention if Azriel answered, either. The new, sleek steel weapons she’d returned with felt different in your hands. Lighter, faster. Mor had been right—these suited you better. But it didn’t matter. You were too lost in your head, too tangled in your thoughts.

Even if Mor had kept her eyes closed, she still would’ve won the next fight. You weren’t focused enough to stand a chance. There was a brief, confused look in her eyes when she realized how easily she’d taken you down once again. But she didn’t press, not even as you yielded for the day and ran home, slipping into a cool bath with the hope that it would clear your mind of everything that tainted it.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You stacked the last of the reports on the living room table, smoothing your palm over the top page before grabbing a scrap of parchment.

Rhys—went through the latest proposals and highlighted the ones most viable. Let me know if you need anything else.

You stuck the note on the pile and stepped back, scanning the work you’d spent the past few weeks compiling.

Rhysand would be by later to go over them with Azriel—discussions about Hewn City’s reformation efforts, the best way to bridge the centuries-old divide between the Court of Nightmares and the Court of Dreams. You’d done your best to outline a path forward, to present the grievances of its citizens in a way Rhysand could use to negotiate.

Your fingers drummed idly against the edge of the table before you caught sight of your wrist. The small hair tie sat there, snug against your skin. And although it was nothing, just a simple band, it felt as if it were burning. You weren’t sure why you were still wearing it—why it wasn’t in a pocket or left in your room, ready to be summoned when needed. You ran your fingers over it, jaw clenching as frustration rose in you, sudden and sharp.

At what, exactly? You didn’t know.

You did know, however, that it was likely related to Azriel.

You’d been avoiding him since the other day at training. Since he’d given you the small elastic now circling your wrist.

It wasn’t intentional, not really, but you’d been thinking too much. Feeling too much. Uncomfortable in your own skin, hyperaware of yourself and Azriel in ways that made your stomach twist. Like pressing against a tender bruise.

The anger you’d been holding onto—the indignation that had burned hot and bright in the aftermath of your fight—faded much faster than you’d expected. You still wanted to be angry, to hold onto the grudge that felt like armor, but Azriel made it impossible. His kindness had chafed against you, rubbing away at the edges of your resentment till all that was left was an overly aware sense of him. Of his presence, his care. His devotion to something as simple as your forgiveness.

You’d forgiven him within a week, had taken all of his baked goods with open arms, had expressed appreciation for the times his shadows brought you snacks during your late nights with Rhys and Feyre, going over negotiation plans for the reformation efforts.

But Azriel was being too nice now. Too thoughtful. Too much. And it was starting to wear you down.

You were noticing him in ways that felt deeper, heavier, and far more dangerous. It was overwhelming, this shift in perspective—like seeing him in a new light that illuminated details you’d never thought to look at before. The slope of his shoulders, the way he always seemed to be aware of you, even when he wasn’t looking at you. You felt blinded, too rushed to adjust to this new, backlit version of Azriel.

It stressed you out— made you want to sit down and create a list, sort through the pros and cons like some sort of strategy meeting. Analyze the feelings bubbling in your chest until you could pin them down and find the most equitable, profitable, and logical path forward. The right direction to take.

Realistically, you should wait it out. Let the feelings settle and fade before they could complicate the beautiful, solid friendship you’d built over centuries. You weren’t even sure what you were feeling. You couldn’t risk something so vital over emotions you didn’t fully understand.

The front door clicked open.

You turned at the sound of footsteps, eyes falling on Azriel’s figure as he stepped inside. His hair was a little mussed, dark strands sticking to his forehead like he’d flown through the midday heat. A faint flush tinted his cheeks, and for a moment, you wondered if the sun was still blazing in the midsky—if the warmth on his face was from exertion or simply the sun pressing down on him.

He took two large strides before his hazel eyes landed on you. His expression shifted, then, brightened, as if he hadn’t expected to find you here. The soft tug at the corners of his mouth, almost a smile but not quite, was enough to send your pulse into a sharp, erratic rhythm.

“Hey,” he said, lightly. “You’re home.”

“That I am.” You smiled and met his eyes. “Hi.”

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped farther into the room, something small and wrapped in plain paper in his hand.

“I’m glad I caught you. I have something for you,” he said, holding it out to you.

You blinked, glancing between him and the package. “What is it?”

“Some tea,” he said, his gaze flickering to yours before darting away. “For sleep.”

“For sleep?” you repeated, taking the package carefully, his shadows greeting you with a gentle circle around your wrists.

Azriel nodded, his hand falling to his side. “I noticed the other day. When you were sparring with Mor. You were leaning more on your left. You do that when you’re tired.”

Your chest tightened, your fingers curling instinctively around the package. “It was that noticeable?”

“Yeah,” he said. “ To me at least. I thought this might help.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, the simple thoughtfulness of it wrapping around you like a weight you weren’t ready to carry. You opened the package carefully, revealing a small tin filled with pouches of tea. You swallowed, staring down at the item in your hands.

“Thank you. This is…” You trailed off, your voice failing you. “This is really sweet, Az.”

“Let me know if it helps,” he said, shifting his weight slightly, his wings twitching behind him. “If you like it, I’ll get more.” He gave a small, almost tentative, smile. “Or maybe I’ll try it myself.”

You nodded, clutching the package tighter. “Okay. Yeah. I will.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. You turned, intending to step away, to put some distance between you and the sudden awkwardness settling in your chest. But as you moved past him, Azriel stepped closer, just enough that the space between you disappeared. For a moment, you were not quite touching, just close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the faint scent of night-chilled air and cedar.

And then his hand caught yours. When you glanced back at him, his expression had softened, a sense of concern flickering in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, intimate. Like he was sharing a secret despite you both being the only ones in the room.

Your breath caught. You could see the faint crease in his brow, the way his gaze searched your face like he was trying to find his answer there, in your features. “Yeah,” you said quietly, even though your heart was pounding.

“Are you sure?” he pressed. His thumb brushed over your skin absentmindedly, as it usually did when he soothed you on bad days. Your breath hitched at how intimate it felt now, how aware it made you of his touch. “Are we okay?”

You blinked, frowning at his words. “Yeah, of course. Why would you ask that?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know. I just…I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” you replied quickly, but the excuse felt hollow even as you said it.

“Yeah,” he murmured, but something in his tone made you think he didn’t believe you. After a moment, he added, “Are you still mad at me?”

“No,” you said after a pause, and it was the truth. You weren’t angry at Azriel, not anymore. It had completely faded, morphed into something else entirely.

You felt guilty about how you'd been acting, how you'd resorted to avoiding him in an effort to make yourself feel better. Because, despite you telling him otherwise, you knew Azriel was interpreting your distance as proof that you were still mad.

Azriel nodded, but his expression didn’t quite relax. His hand tightened slightly around yours. “But you’d tell me, right? If something was wrong?”

“Of course.”

His gaze softened further, his eyes almost pleading. “Because I always want to know,” he said quietly. “If something’s wrong. I want to know.”

You couldn’t breathe. His hand was still on yours, his thumb brushing soft, slow circles over your skin like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. You were going to vomit. You were going to be sick. You had to leave. You had to get out of here before you did something reckless, before you said something you couldn’t take back.

“I know, Az. But, I should… I need to go,” you said, stepping back and gently pulling your hand from his. “I have a lot of errands to run.”

Azriel blinked, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Oh. Okay.”

You clutched the package tighter to your chest, avoiding his gaze as you backed toward the door. “Thanks again for this. Really.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then stopped, nodding instead. “Let me know if it helps.”

You nodded quickly, forcing a tight, polite smile before slipping out of the room.

When you made it upstairs, you grabbed a coat, barely paying attention to which one, and were out of the townhouse before you had the chance to run into Azriel again. You didn’t know where you were going—only that it needed to be away from him.

For a strange, fleeting moment, you found yourself wishing you were angry at him again. Wishing he was being stubborn and unfair instead of sweet and thoughtful. It had been easier then, even when it hurt, because at least you’d known how to deal with it.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Velaris buzzed with midday energy, alive with movement and the sounds of life. The streets teemed with couples strolling hand in hand, children darting between legs, their laughter woven into the hum of conversation. You wove through it all in a haze, your mind spinning like a top. For a brief moment, you scowled at the love surrounding you—wondering if it had always been this prevalent, this visible, this... everywhere.

You hadn’t come up with a plan since leaving the townhouse, still unsure of where you were going—or if you even wanted to go anywhere at all. All you knew was that you needed to keep moving. Moving meant you were occupied. And being occupied meant you could at least try to ignore the noise—both the loud thoughts and the feelings twisting inside you. But no matter how fast you walked, how hard you tried to lose yourself in the busy streets, the fluttering in your chest wouldn't let you forget.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what it meant, even as you fought with everything you had to deny it. But maybe... maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe Selene had gotten into your head and now you were overthinking everything—reading too much into Azriel’s kindness, his care. You’d seen it before, convincing yourself of something that wasn’t true, spiraling until you couldn’t trust your own judgment.

You didn’t see the person you bumped into until it was too late. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking yourself from your thoughts, but when you looked up—

“Oh,” you said, startled. You blinked at the male before you. “Hello.”

The golden light caught his hair—a rich, burnished brown that framed sharp, handsome features. Made them seem almost celestial.

Adrin smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, two small dimples forming at his cheeks. “Y/n. Hello.”

“Adrin,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No harm done,” he said easily. His tone was light, but there was a flicker of concern as he studied your face. “Are you…doing all right? I heard about what happened.”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, nodding. “It's a long story. But everything is okay.”

Adrin tilted his head, and although the smile was still there— that warm welcoming smile— his brows drew together slightly. “You seem…bothered. Long day?”

You huffed a small laugh, rubbing absentmindedly at your chest. “Something like that.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “I know the feeling. It’s been one of those days for me, too. I was about to try and make it better—clear my head a little.” He hesitated, then added, “You could join me, if you’d like.”

You blinked at him. “Oh, no, I don’t want to interrupt your plans—”

“You wouldn’t be.” He was quick to shake his head. “Really. I’d like the company.”

You hesitated. Thought through the idea. You liked Adrin. And while you wanted to run—hide away, retreat into the quiet of your own mind—you knew it would only make your thoughts spiral faster. But being around your family, or anyone who might see through you immediately, made you itch with unease.

Maybe this was exactly what you needed. The chance to be with someone who wouldn’t pry, someone who seemed genuine in his invitation.

“Sure, yeah. What are you thinking?”

Adrin’s lips twitched into a small grin. “I might have just the thing we both need.”

An hour later, you found yourself at his apartment, stretched out on his balcony overlooking the city. The air was cooler here, quieter, the noise of the streets below softened into a distant hum. The smell of mirthroot curled in the space between you, something so distinctly warm and earthy.

You breathed it in, already feeling lighter, like you were melting into your chair—but in a good way, not like earlier, when the heat had pressed against you relentlessly.

You took a slow pull from the rolled mirthroot stick Adrin had handed you. For the first time that day, your shoulders eased.

“Feeling any better?” he asked.

You exhaled slowly, watching the plume of smoke dissipate into the air. A soft laugh escaped you.

“Oh yeah. I kind of forgot how much I like mirthroot. This is dangerous.”

Adrin chuckled, and you glanced over at him, watching as his lips curved into a lopsided smile—only one dimple visible now. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

You tilted your head, studying him further. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be into this,” you said, gesturing to the rolled stick in your hand.

His brows furrowed. “Why's that?”

You shrugged, still smiling, your face warm—not from embarrassment, but from the pleasant haze settling over you. “I don’t know. You’re from the Dawn Court. You’re a healer. You just seem disciplined. Like, above this.”

Adrin let out a full, rich laugh, the sound making your grin widen. “Please. Let’s go through that again. I come from Dawn. I’m a male healer. A pacifist, even.”

You paused, letting his words replay in your mind before it finally clicked.

“So it makes total sense,” you said, correcting yourself.

Adrin nodded sagely, and another small round of laughter followed, easy and unhurried. You realized how much you liked that about him. That his presence wasn’t demanding. That he let things be light. Maybe that was why it was always easy to converse with him whenever you’d stopped by Madjas.

You inhaled again, letting yourself sink further into the feeling, into the rare quiet of your thoughts. Even now, though, even floating, something tugged at you. Some part of you that refused to be fully untethered. The rational side of your mind begged for a break from the relentless circling of your thoughts, but you shoved the worst of them away, opting instead to focus on the ones that didn’t hurt.

“Hey,” you said suddenly. “Can I ask you a really weird question?”

“Sure.” Adrin straightened slightly, tossing you a quick glance as he brought his mirthroot to his lips.

You hesitated, but the mirth haze had worked through your nerves, made you bolder, more loose lipped. “Do you have a crush on me?”

He choked on his next inhale, coughing before looking at you, eyes wide. “Sorry?”

“Nevermind. That was weird. Sorry,” you said quickly, looking away, waving it off. “Forget I said anything.”

But he shook his head, smiling faintly as he leaned in slightly. “No, it’s okay. I’ve always appreciated how forward you are. Honest. It’s refreshing.”

You blinked at him. “Really?”

He nodded. Then he paused for a moment, contemplating. “If you’re asking if I find you attractive, the answer is yes. I think you’re beautiful.”

Something in your chest tightened.

“But,” he continued, “I wouldn’t say I have a crush on you. That feels… shallow. I don’t know you enough to call it that. It would be liking the idea of you. I don’t like doing that.”

His honesty was just as refreshing as he claimed yours to be. It loosened something in your chest—some small guilt that had settled when Mor first suggested you go out with him. Guilt at the idea that someone you’d grown to enjoy might want something from you that you couldn’t give.

If only everyone was this articulate. If only Az—

You shoved the thought away and exhaled slowly. “That’s… a really nice answer.”

Adrin smiled again, but this time, it was smaller, softer. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” you admitted, shaking your head. “It doesn’t.”

“Good,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I have no expectations here. I enjoy the friendship we’ve built—if you’d call it that.”

“Of course I would,” you said softly. A small chuckle escaped your lips as you raised your rolled mirthroot and nodded toward the one between his fingers. “And if I didn’t consider you a friend before, you’re definitely one now.”

Adrin’s laugh rang out, warm and melodic, filling the space between you. It was soothing, like the sound itself carried the calm of his healing touch.

You settled into a comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of conversation lingering between you as you both watched the city below. But then, without warning, your mind wandered once more.

This time, it drifted toward the upcoming event Rhys was hosting—a formal gathering to show appreciation for allies and those who’d supported him. At his own home, too. A gesture of humility. You could already picture the glittering decorations in the River House, the couples dressed to the nines, gliding together in effortless, practiced harmony.

Usually, those scenes didn’t bother you.

You’d never minded attending events alone, enjoying the freedom to slip in and out of conversations as you pleased. But now, the thought of walking into that hall, of watching so many people in love around you… It grated. And you knew exactly why. Azriel’s words, his reasoning for changing while dating Selene—how everyone was falling in love, moving on—echoed in your mind, and you hated how tightly they clung to you.

They’d made you feel like something was wrong with you for not actively seeking out love. For being content with being single. Alone.

You glanced at Adrin.

“Adrin,” you said, clearing your throat. “Are you busy this weekend?”

“I don’t believe so. Why?”

“There’s an event—Rhysand is hosting. It’s an appreciation for those who help him. I was wondering if you’d want to come with me. Considering everything you’ve done to help Madja… and us.”

His brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering in his expression before he smiled. “Really?”

You nodded, waiting and watching him as he thought through his answer.

“The company of a friend is always nice for events,” he said finally.

Your heart stilled at his use of the word "friend.” It felt reassuring. Safe. A reminder that he truly didn’t hold any expectations, just as he’d said only a few minutes prior.

“Yes,” you replied softly, a small smile curling your lips. “It always is.”

“I’d be honored to go. Thank you for the invite, Y/n. I’ve never been to big events like that.”

You laughed lightly. “If you keep letting me smoke your mirthroot, you can come to every event with me forever.”

He grinned, shaking his head, his hair falling across his forehead in an effortlessly charming way. “Is that what I’ve become now? A drug dealer and a friend in one?”

“Yes,” you teased. “A breath of fresh air, really.”

You both fell into another comfortable pause, settling into the easy rhythm of each other’s presence. You wondered what was going on inside Adrin’s mind. His eyes had grown distant, like he was retreating into his thoughts. He had mentioned having a long day too. You hoped he was feeling better now, just as you were, that perhaps your company had offered him what his had offered you—a reprieve.

Adrin reminded you of someone else in your life. Someone with teal eyes and the same easy, friendly humor. You smiled at the fleeting thought that crossed your mind, something quick and bright, like a shooting star.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel’s meeting with Rhysand had taken longer than expected, forcing both males to venture to the Hewn City itself. By the time he returned home, the city of Velaris was already asleep.

Azriel felt conflicted as he passed by your door, his shadows lingering just long enough to confirm that you were safe and asleep in bed. He was relieved, glad that you were finally getting the rest you needed, but a deep, quiet disappointment gnawed at him.

He was planning to catch you one last time today—to talk, even for a moment. To tell you about the meeting with Rhys and how brilliant your plans were, how he was praising them despite you not being there to bask in the compliments. He knew you loved the feedback, knew you loved hearing how your hard work paid off. It always did.

But Azriel knew, even then, the conversation would feel off.

Things had felt off since the night he apologized—and even his shadows had confirmed it wasn’t just in his mind. That he wasn’t simply overthinking.

You’d said you weren’t mad anymore, that you two were okay. But Azriel still felt, still knew, that something was wrong.

Things weren’t normal. They weren’t hostile, and Azriel was beyond thankful for that, but it wasn’t comfortable like it used to be. You seemed to be hesitating around him. It gutted him to think that he had made you wary, made you overthink how you acted around him. He’d stripped himself of his own comfort.

Azriel stepped into his room slowly, feeling the weight of the day begin to catch up with him the moment he crossed the threshold. The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, he just stood there, leaning against the frame as he let the quiet settle around him.

The familiar emptiness of the room greeted him. His dresser was bare, the surface wiped clean once again. Mor had, strangely excitedly, offered to clear it out for him when she first learned about Selene’s betrayal. Despite the anger simmering inside him, Azriel had made her promise not to take any drastic measures—he didn’t want her to engage with Selene at all. Mor had reluctantly agreed.

Azriel took a few more steps into the room, and with each movement, the exhaustion that had been nagging him all day seemed to settle more heavily on his shoulders—his body was sore, his mind buzzing with a thousand half-thoughts.

His shoulders slumped as he sank onto the edge of the bed, his hands moving to rub his face, fingers dragging through the mess of his hair.

Azriel hadn’t placed all the items Selene moved, the minimal decorations he owned, back where they belonged yet. But he opened his bedside table and grabbed the one thing he was thinking about—the strange clay creation of him you’d made.

His mind wandered to the night he cleaned your wounds and apologized.

He’d traced the change back to that moment.

Azriel didn’t know why he felt disappointed, why he had expected something different from that interaction. He’d apologized, finally, as he’d intended to—though too late, he told himself, because you’d gotten hurt. But you had accepted it, had looked at him with that same softness he’d come to admire, and accepted it. You’d cracked a joke. You both laughed. It had felt simple again, natural, like Azriel had finally found his way back to himself. But something in him sank when he’d said that one line—when he said he didn’t know why he’d entertained the idea that you’d ever have feelings for him.

He wasn’t sure why, but it tasted so wrong—sour, like something rotten.

He let himself sink further into his thoughts.

Azriel had never seen himself as lovable. At least, not in the way everyone else was.

From the moment he was thrown into that dungeon as a boy, he’d believed he deserved every punishment, every scar, every moment of suffering. The people who should have loved him—the people who were supposed to care—had only taught him he was a burden, something broken and unwanted.

When he left that darkness behind, it followed him, reshaping him into something sharp and unrelenting. A weapon. He became what was needed, what a High Lord required, committing acts that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He wore those deeds like armor, each one another layer of the male he thought he had to be.

Love, he assumed, had to be just as hard. How could it not be? He was unworthy of the softness others found so easily. While Rhysand, Cassian, Amren, and Mor managed to find it, to hold onto it despite their own sins, Azriel had only ever known heartbreak.

So he told himself that love—for him—would never be simple. It would require blood, pain, sacrifice, and suffering. He thought love needed to ache in his chest, leaving him hollow and desperate, clawing for scraps of something he couldn’t quite hold. That it had to be fought for with every ounce of strength he had. And maybe even that wouldn’t be enough.

Something had changed, though, regarding how he thought about love.

His fingers brushed the rough edges of the clay figure in his palm. It was uneven and messy, painted in smudges that bled into each other. The proportions were laughably off—the wings crooked, the body too long—but it fit perfectly in his hand nonetheless.

He held it carefully, turning it over as his chest tightened. You’d made this for him, drunk off your ass and laughing with the others, your hands coated in clay. You’d sculpted a miniature version of him without a second thought.

And though it wasn’t a gift, though you hadn’t even mentioned it after that night, Azriel kept it. Kept it somewhere safe, somewhere he could easily grab it and remind himself that if someone as kind as you could love him, care for him the way you did, then he must not be as awful as his mind often tried to convince him he was.

You’d seen the worst of him—all the jagged edges and dark, unspoken parts. He was the softest with you, a side of himself he never showed anyone else, but somehow also the worst. You’d heard the things he’d done, seen him caked in blood that wasn’t his, and still, you had sculpted him. Still, you thought of him when you were having fun.

Azriel had begun to realize that, in reality, love seemed to be… patient. Gentle.

The love his family had found was hard at times, yes, and needed to be fought for, like everything important. But it was kind. Natural.

And so Azriel thought long and hard, the clay figure resting warm in his hand, his shadows curling and twisting softly around him. They whispered your name, over and over, like a quiet, delicate prayer.

And that was when everything clicked into place.

That deep longing he felt to see you, that comfort he found in your presence, the ability to be open, bare, seen, and unafraid—

That feeling was love.

He was in love with you.

And he suddenly couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: hey yall.... how we feeling?????

so like im invested. and also i kinda love Adrin like yesss gimme a stoner healer man who respects a persons boundaries and doesnt crush on the idea of them before knowing them!!!

and yesss for azriel being in love!!! hes gonna be struggling with this new realization, fighting the Voices in the corner of his room and being jealous over things he doesn’t need to be jealous over. mmmmmm delicious

i do believe….there may only be one (1) part left 🫢

as always— thank you for reading 🫶🏻

and don’t forget your daily clicks for palestine !

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon @glam-targaryen

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @motheroffae @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@feyretopia @yesiamthatwierd @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows @mellowmusings

@paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch @casiiopea2 @w0nderw0manly

@rottenroyalebooks @jurdanpotter @casiiopea2 @gamarancianne @weesablackbeak

@booksaremyescapeworld @knoxic @wynintheclouds @dacrethehalls @louisa-harrier

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intothefrisson · 2 days ago

Text

I present my link click x swan princess AU or what I call, The Swan Princes 😌🦢

(Part 1)

My notes on this AU:

Swan princes AU

-Ql and CXS are from a neighboring kingdom from LG, QL's parents arranged to start bringing LG over to their kingdom every summer to try and matchmake QL and LG together so they can marry when they are older to unify their kingdoms. Ql and Lg do not have any romantic interest in each other at all right off the bat and end up more like siblings, Lg and Cxs (who is the adopted ward of the royal family) become fast best friends and all three of them are joined at the hip when Lg visits, and often arrange more visits outside of summer as well when they can.

-QL's parents give up trying to get LG and Ql together but still welcome LG whenever he comes to visit

-LG, Ql and CXS start making plans about the best way to unify their kingdoms (without marriage) when they reach their 20s, even though in general their kingdoms are really friendly already.

-Not everyone is a fan of this idea, especially a faction of nobles in LG’s kingdom

-One of the times that LG is leaving to travel back to his kingdom, his convoy gets ambushed by a party wanting to overthrow the throne, and only a wounded messenger escapes back to QL and CXS’s kingdom to tell them that there was this great beast that had attacked their convoy and he doesn't know if anyone survived, but that the beast isn't what it seems to be (like in the movie) but the messenger does not recover from his injuries and passes away shortly

-Cxs and Ql go out immediately when they hear the news to search for the remains for Lg's convoy (and possibly his body, because the messenger was adamant no one had survived.) but all they find is a bloody massacre (and no lg except maybe a personal item) leading them to believe he didn't survive

-They are both devastated, but Cxs is beyond devastated

-Cxs and QL start researching into the great beast and about the messengers last words about how it was a deceiving beast because they want to figure out what the hell happened (And Cxs wants REVENGE)

-Cxs starts hunting in the forest over the span of a month or two because they can’t figure out what the beast could be disguising itself as and also to unleash some of his pent up anger and grief over LG’s ‘death�� when he comes across a Swan, (and like in the movie he assumes that's the great beast) so he chases it to the lake

-But just as he was about to take the shot with revenge on his mind the swan turned into Lg in the moonlight hehe

-both of them overjoyed to see one another

Random Notes:

-Lg can't talk as a swan, and can only honk

-Ltx is part of the faction trying to overthrow the kingdom, but helps lg out when she can, she doesn't really have a choice of being in the faction or not cause her brothers in it also she doesn’t fully understand what is going on with the politics in their kingdom

-at some point cxs is brash and ends up getting turned into a swan too, Lg is less than thrilled with this development because how are two swans supposed to save an entire kingdom.

-They figure out how to go honk to QL for help

-Lg didn't find cxs quickly originally cause he had to learn to be a swan and couldn't get to far from the lake, when cxs becomes a swan he has to teach cxs how to be a swan (fly, swim, honk, poop, eat etc)

-It goes as well as one would expect.

Will upload more notes/artwork probably next week!

#link click #link click au #shiguang daili ren #lu guang #cheng xiaoshi #shiguang #swan princess #the swan princes AU

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checkeredflagggs · 1 day ago

Text

Winner’s Circle

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader x charles leclerc

summary: max, charles, and y/n are the stars of redbull, ferrari, and aston martin (and their relationship is the star of the internet)

a/n: sorry Lance but bye bye! Fem!Reader is now driving for aston martin . This takes place in 2025 and certain predictions I make are NOT how I think the season will go

a/n2: this was requested and I really liked it! It was a good jump into poly fics which is something I’d like to write more off — nony I hope you like it! Sorry it took awhile…

a/n3: I love how Liam got a seat and immediately started making enemies 🤣 so I kept that tradition

y/n_am_racing

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 2,833,184 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

y/n_am_racing: mine. All mine. Stay mad!

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user1: damn girl…

↳user2: girls got game! liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

user3: dream threesome right there!

↳user4: which ones?

↳user3: yes liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n_am_racing

↳user4: understandable. Continue on

oscarpiastri: congrats dad and dad and mom

↳y/n_am_racing: thanks osc

↳maxverstappen1: 👍🏻

↳oscarpiastri: thrilling conversation right there liked by charles_leclerc

↳charles_leclerc: thank you son!

olliebearman: new parents? (Congratulations!)

↳maxverstappen1: how many children do you have? Because I feel like you severely underestimated the amount you told me

↳charles_leclerc: ��🤭

↳y/n_am_racing: ignore them Ollie and thank you

↳olliebearman: of course!

liamlawson30: I’m not calling you mom

↳y/n_am_racing: I’d run you over if you tried

↳charles_leclerc: such violence against Max’s kid!

↳y/n_am_racing: such violence against the damn annoyance

↳fernandoalo_oficial: Me alegra que estemos de acuerdo contra él. Glad we are in agreement against him

↳y/n_am_racing: Aston Martin against Liam! liked by fernandoalo_oficial

↳liamlawson30: I am being so attacked right now and I didn’t even do anything

↳fernandoalo_oficial: tu existes you exist

↳y/n_am_racing: you exist!

user5: Liam not even having his seat for a month and already beefing with Aston Martin is hilarious

↳user6: one of the original grid terrorists and the girl everyone calls the Ice Bitch because of how fucking cold and mean she is? Not the best choices for enemies liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n_am_racing

astonmartinf1: Congrats!

↳astonmartinf1: but maybe give this poor admin a wanting next time?

↳scuderiaferrari: or this one?

↳redbullracing: any admin actually

↳user7: these fools really didn’t tell anyone they were gonna hard launch their relationship?

↳y/n_am_racing: nope!

↳maxverstappen1: better to ask forgiveness than for permission

↳charles_leclerc: ☺️☺️

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n_am_racing, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, and 2,283,193 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, y/n_am_racing

charles_leclerc: Ma lune et mes étoiles. My moon and stars

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user8: oh hello jealousy thanks for your visit

user9: what I would give to be apart of that relationship…

↳user10: same! Are they looking for a forth? A dog? I can bark

maxverstappen1: mijn liefje my sweetheart

↳y/n_am_racing: have I told you guys lately I fucking love it when you speak foreign to me?

↳user11: 🤣

↳charles_leclerc: mes étoiles, pourquoi ne le dis-tu pas encore au cas où. My stars, why don’t you say it again just incase

↳maxverstappen1: niet recentelijk en de herinnering is leuk. Not recently and the reminder is nice

↳y/n_am_racing: hot 🥵🥵🥵🥵

oscarpiastri: is the family dinner still on?

↳y/n_am_racing: of course! Sunday at 4 at Max’s

↳olliebearman: am i still invited?

↳charles_leclerc: of course!

↳kimi.antonelli: you’re just gonna leave me alone?

↳y/n_am_racing: why don’t you come too kimi?

↳kimi.antonelli: sì, grazie!

↳maxverstappen1: again how many grid kids do you have? Because I still feel like you severely underestimated the amount you told me

↳y/n_am_racing: at least ours are polite. Yours is…Liam liked by fernandoalo_oficial

↳liamlawson30: honestly fuck you?

↳maxverstappen1: what

↳charles_leclerc: do not speak that way to her!

↳liamlawson30: she started it!!

↳y/n_am_racing: ha!

y/n_am_racing

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, user, and 3,121,183 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

y/n_am_racing: baby i'm astounded by how this country screams your name (just like I will)

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astonmartinf1: please report to HR for another round of pr training

↳user12: leave our girl alone!

↳y/n_am_racing: thank you!

↳user12: she absolutely did something wrong but it was funny af liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

↳y/n_am_racing: 😑😑

charles_leclerc: 🥰😘 liked by y/n_am_racing

↳y/n_am_racing: meet me in your room in five

↳scuderiaferrari: No

↳charles_leclerc: yes!

↳y/n_am_racing: too late

↳astonmartinf1: definitely need that pr training…

maxverstappen1: mijn schatje…my treasure…

↳y/n_am_racing: try winning a race this year? And maybe you’ll get the same kind of post

↳user13: oh my god what a reminder that this hasn’t been redbull’s year…

↳y/n_am_racing: it’s because of Liam liked by fernandoalo_oficial

↳liamlawson30: I’m going to run you over

↳y/n_am_racing: in that fucking tractor? You’d have to catch me first

↳user14: it might not be redbull’s year but it IS y/n’s! liked by y/n_am_racing, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

user15: the Ferrari domination this year is hot as fuck

↳user16: he could dominate me…

↳y/n_am_racing: hem-hem?

↳user16: THEORETICALLY. I MEAN THEORETICALLY

↳y/n_am_racing: much better

user17: as a ferrari and y/n fan i am loving this year!!

↳user18: as a max fan i am not…

lewishamilton: do I need to find a new room tonight?

↳fernandoalo_oficial: or do I?

↳y/n_am_racing: yes

↳maxverstappen1: yes

↳charles_leclerc: yes

y/n_am_racing

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes, and 3,173,284 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt, flavy.barla, iamrebeccad, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, alex_albon, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, estebanocon, fernandoalo_oficial, georgerussell63, landonorris, lewishamilton, logansargeant, mickschumacher, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511, zhouguanyu24

y/n_am_racing: thank you to my boys and my girls and the grid for the best 27th birthday ever!

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user20: the fomo I’m experiencing right now…

↳user21: no I know what you mean

lilymhe: that was literally the best birthday party ever!

↳y/n_am_racing: only because you were there!

↳lilymhe: well that’s just not true pretty girl!

↳maxverstappen1: stop flirting with our girlfriend?

↳y/n_am_racing: shush

↳lilymhe:😘

↳maxverstappen1:🙄

landonorris: where do I send my bill?

↳y/n_am_racing: for what?

↳landonorris: for my dj services?

↳y/n_am_racing: you mean when you drunkenly took over the music for 5 minutes then passed out on top of a table?

↳landonorris: is that why I have sharpie all over my face?

↳alex_albon: yeah

↳georgerussell63: it was a tempting target

↳maxverstappen1: yup

↳carlossainz55: an opportunity I didn’t want to miss

user22: ok but was everyone in the grid invited?

↳y/n_am_racing: yup! And everyone came for the dinner but it was only the kool kids that went to the after party

↳user23: even Liam?

↳y/n_am_racing: we needed someone to stick the bill on liked by fernandoalo_oficial

↳liamlawson30: SERIOUSLY?

↳fernandoalo_oficial: ¿Por qué pagaríamos cuando estabas allí? Why would we pay when you were right there? liked by y/n_am_racing

↳user23: your continued hatred of Liam is probably my favorite part of the season…

lewishamilton: props where they’re do — you guys can throw a mean party 🥳

↳y/n_am_racing: thanks Lew! And thank you for the gifts — I love them

↳user24: who else is curious about what y/n got?

↳y/n_am_racing: he got me a couple of custom Louis Vuitton shoes!

↳y/n_am_racing: and some of the other guys got me the matching purses!

↳user25: I am so unbelievably jealous liked by y/n_am_racing

yukitsunoda0511: the food passed the test

↳y/n_am_racing: not sure what test it was but glad you enjoyed it! And thanks for the Japanese cookbooks — I’m expecting actual lessons though!

↳yukitsunoda0511: good plan!

maxverstappen1

liked by y/n_am_racing, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 2,938,183 others

tagged: y/n_am_racing

maxverstappen1: treating our girl right for her birthday

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y/n_am_racing: thank you my loves. It was the best birthday ever 💚💚

↳charles_leclerc: Mes étoiles, c'est tout à fait normal que nous fêtions votre anniversaire. C'était le plus beau jour de notre vie parce que tu es né et tu es finalement devenu le nôtre. My stars, it is only right we celebrate your birthday. It was the best day of our lives because you were born and eventually became ours.

↳maxverstappen1: Mijn schatje, de hele dag doorbrengen met het verwennen van jou was het gemakkelijkste wat ik ooit heb gedaan. My treasure, spending the day spoiling you was the easiest thing i've ever done.

user26: is that…is that max verstappen being soft? Mad max? Being soft? liked by y/n_am_racing

↳y/n_am_racing: aren’t I the luckiest?

↳user27: you really truly are

fernandoalo_oficial: feliz cumpleaños niña. Happy birthday girlie

↳y/n_am_racing: thanks Nando!

↳user28: god this mentor/mentee partnership is the best. Not taking any questions or criticisms

↳y/n_am_racing: easy to do when it has both me AND nando! liked by fernandoalo_oficial

astonmartinf1: happy birthday!

↳y/n_am_racing: thanks admin!

liamlawson30: you definitely look older!

↳y/n_am_racing: when you go missing, I won’t be sad liked by fernandoalo_oficial

↳liamlawson30: 😑👎🏻

y/n_am_racing

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial, and 1,273,832 others

y/n_am_racing: Canada oh Canada thank you thank you thank you! P1 BABY!

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astonmartinf1: THATS OUR GIRL! Y/N POINTS!

↳y/n_am_racing: HELL YEAH I AM!

fernandoalo_oficial: felicidades, niña! Congratulations, girlie!

↳y/n_am_racing: thanks nando! And congrats on p4!

↳user29: Aston Martin for WCC!! liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n_am_racing

maxverstappen1: glad to be on podium with you both

↳y/n_am_racing: we’ll have to do it more often 😘

↳charles_leclerc: ma lune et mes étoiles, vous êtes toutes les deux tellement incroyables! my moon and stars, you are both so amazing!

↳y/n_am_racing: my room in five? liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc

↳astonmartinf1: no they’re banned

↳scuderiaferrari: stop stealing our driver!

↳redbullracing: No!

↳y/n_am_racing: too late!!

user30: today is definitely y/n’s day — p1, podium with her boys, and she’s getting railed?

↳y/n_am_racing: 😊😊😊

↳user30: tell me your ways please

↳y/n_am_racing: nah

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n_am_racing, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 2,824,284 others

tagged: y/n_am_racing, maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: vacances d'été avec ma lune et mes étoiles. Summer break with my moon and stars

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y/n_am_racing: nowhere else I’d rather be…

↳user31: girl same

↳y/n_am_racing: back off! They’re mine! liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1: it’s been a good break so far

↳charles_leclerc: it has! 🥰🥰

↳user32: oh to be on a boat with y/n, max, and Charles…

↳y/n_am_racing: ngl it’s pretty great

oscarpiastri: padel tomorrow?

↳y/n_am_racing: ugh no

↳charles_leclerc: absolutely!

↳maxverstappen1: sure

lilymhe: golf tomorrow y/n_am_racing?

↳y/n_am_racing: anything for you pretty girl!

↳alex_albon: am i just chopped liver?

↳y/n_am_racing: tbh some people actually like chopped liver so…liked by lilymhe

user10: again are they looking for a forth?

↳y/n_am_racing: nope!

↳maxverstappen1: no

↳charles_leclerc: non

↳user33: shut! down!

y/n_am_racing

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 2,813,193 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

y/n_am_racing: I forgot how good you looked on the top step baby

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user34: go max!

user35: congrats max!

maxverstappen1: it’s been awhile

↳y/n_am_racing: I think the saying is good things come to those that wait?

↳maxverstappen1: I’m not very good with waiting hence the race cars…

↳charles_leclerc: …your room in 5?

↳y/n_am_racing: already there!

↳charles_leclerc: ☺️

↳astonmartinf1: sorry redbullracing she was tooo fast for us

↳scuderiaferrari: Charles we can’t keep doing this…

↳redbullracing: you guys were specifically banned from our garage!

oscarpiastri: congrats man!

↳maxverstappen1: thanks oscar

user36: god it’s been so long

↳y/n_am_racing: sorry not sorry but I’m gonna make sure it takes this long for the next one!

↳maxverstappen1: mijn schatje…my treasure…

↳y/n_am_racing: 🥺🥺🥺🥺 liked by maxverstappen1

↳maxverstappen1: 🙄

liamlawson30: don’t crash into me challenge FAILED

↳y/n_am_racing: when is Max Verstappen second driver curse gonna kick in?

↳fernandoalo_oficial: hopefully soon liked by y/n_am_racing

↳liamlawson30: how do I dislike a comment??

↳y/n_am_racing: THIS IS MY COMMENT SECTION!!!

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc,y/n_am_racing, user and 3,129,287 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, y/n_am_racing

maxverstappen1: what an incredible season — not the one we wanted obviously but I am so incredibly proud of charles_leclerc on his WDC and y/n_am_racing and astonmartinf1 for their WCC. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger next year — I’ll be coming for my trophies.

Now it’s time to rest and relax with my loves.

comments have been restricted on this post

astonmartinf1: thank you max! But don’t think we’ll make it easy for you liked by y/n_am_racing

charles_leclerc: ma lune, ce fut un plaisir de courir contre toi l'année dernière. my moon, it was a pleasure to race against you the past year

↳maxverstappen1: it’s always a pleasure to race against you and y/n liked by charles_leclerc, y/n_am_racing

fernandoalo_oficial: tu es presque sûr que tu as oublié de remercier quelqu'un? pretty sure you forgot to thank someone?

↳maxverstappen1: oh yeah…

↳maxverstappen1: congrats I guess

y/n_am_racing: I can’t wait to spend the next couple of months with just you and Charles! 💚💚

↳maxverstappen1: the best part of the year

↳charles_leclerc: it’ll be a good break ma lune et mes étoiles. My moon and stars

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @nichmeddar @mxm47max @loveylee @voidvannie

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spiritwildheartofachild · 3 days ago

Text

This post just solved the mystery of my haunted Bitty Baby from when I was about 6 or 7. Holy shit.

I had three beautiful Bitty Babies (long since gifted to another family, and I'm gutted about it, alas). One of them had blue eyes and the other two had brown eyes. I treasured them! They were expensive and nicer than most of my other toys. To this day, I'm not sure why my parents got them for me, but I wish I still had them.

I left them at home when we went on a little trip to visit my grandparents for a long weekend. When we got back, one of them had one brown eye and one grey eye.

Nobody believed me. I tried for a week to convince anybody in my family that her eye had changed colour.

I was told she must have came that way and I just didn't notice, like I hadn't spent hours playing with her.

Just did some googling because of this post. Turns out, American Girl dolls can get something called silver eye when heat or sunlight damages the structures in their eyes. I probably left her where sunlight from the window could hit one half of her face or something.

This whole time I just thought she was haunted or had been briefly possessed by something that had left its mark on her. Turns out she just got a little bit toasty in the sun! Either way, I'm fucking vindicated. Holy shit. I can't believe I finally have an answer.

So, sometimes dolls will have eyes that discolor. (Either due to being poorly stored - in hot environments, for example - or just because they kind of sucked to begin with and time passed.)

Life of Faith was a "Christian alternative" to American Girl in the early 00s. (These spring up from time to time. Most of them only last a few years with a very niche market. I think, at the time, they had because people were flipping out about American Girl partnering with Girls Inc to fund after-school science programs and stuff, because Girls Inc was - according to the conservatives - "A pro-abortion, pro-lesbian organization".) The dolls were based around the Elsie Dinsmore books and it's all . . . big fluffy dresses on a plantation in the antebellum South. With all that that entails.

It was pretty fucking bad.

With that in mind, this is perhaps the funniest toy defect I have ever seen.

#Make my voice fill your newsstands #American Girl #Bitty Baby #She was what primed me for belief in the supernatural lmao

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lightseoul · 3 days ago

Text

CHAPTER 7 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.3k (jesus. this is the longest one yet)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, some minor timeskip manga spoilers, slightly nsfw themes, mentions of food, bakugou katsuki is bad at feelings, feelings—lots of 'em, the true calm before the storm, shit's about to go down!!!

a/n. we're so back, y'all!!! this one took me a while, i have to admit. it even got to a point where i thought i'd just leave this series unfinished for a plethora of reasons. but after clawing through a few sessions of barely being able to write anything, i was struck with the vision of how to get the chapter going in the middle of a massage lol. the rest was history. that said, i'd love to know your thoughts so far, so please don't be a stranger <3 (comments keep me going. btw. not to sound like a slut)

links. masterlist, ao3

You ended up not getting home until past 8 PM that Monday.

After you successfully used your quirk on Kirishima and Hiroto, resulting in the transfer of that fated scrap of paper containing the attack’s details, Kaminari insisted that you hang out after lunch and make the most of your day off until everybody relented. Bakugou was uncharacteristically quiet—you noted—even as the electric hero whisked the six of you away to the nearest mall where you shopped and visited a KTV spot afterward.

You didn’t expect to spend hours watching the four goof off and sing their hearts out while Bakugou sat silently to the side, although time passed by faster than you thought it would anyway. The group eventually parted ways at around 6 PM, after which you and Bakugou decided to eat at a ramen restaurant where you sat yourselves by the counter so you wouldn’t have to force conversation.

Hiroto shadowed the two of you the entire time, up to the instant when you and Bakugou entered a darkened spot in the outdoor parking lot to wait for the twin to message Kouki and have the old man teleport you back to headquarters. You didn’t have to wait for too long—you were gone and right back at the front of your bedroom in a matter of minutes, bug-less and cameras covered another minute after.

And only as you stripped off your going-out clothes for the day in the privacy of the bathroom did it sink in—how you actually did it.

You actually transmitted the message.

And as much as it fucking sucks, the most you can do now—at least until D-Day—is to put your faith in Kirishima and the rest of the pro-heroes who will be tasked with stopping this act of genocide altogether.

Easy enough…

Right.

The next day—Tuesday—starts typically as the others have transpired in the last two weeks-ish of living in the headquarters: violently woken by a twin’s knocking, then scrambling to seem like you were sharing the bed, to promptly getting ready for and having breakfast at the mess hall.

Just like how every day’s been in this supremacist hellhole, everything goes by like clockwork.

That is, up until Omiru walks up to your usual table just as you are about to take your last chug of water after downing your substantial plate of pancakes.

You peer at her from over the rim of your glass, cautious—and rightfully so. Beside you, Bakugou puts down his utensils and straightens up in his seat. Neither of you says anything, opting to let her speak first instead.

And when she finally does, she’s looking straight at no one but Bakugou.

“Follow me.”

At that, you glance at the pro-hero in question, who only shoots the twin a stern look before nodding curtly. You watch him as he gathers his tray and stands up, and you’re about to move and follow suit when Omiru’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Not you,” she spews pointedly. “Just him.”

From where you are half-sitting with your ass frozen mid-air, you blink at the woman. “What?”

“Masaki-san needs him at the private training facility, pronto,” comes her terse reply, sounding more impatient by the minute. “He’s not to be disturbed.”

Your face contorts in displeasure before you can think better against it. Then, schooling it into a more neutral expression, you shake your head as you finally straighten up, willing your voice to stay firm. “Whatever you have to say to him you can say to me, too.”

Omiru opens her mouth to most likely snap at you for wasting more and more of her time, but she doesn’t get to do that because you’re both silenced by a sudden hand on your forearm. You whip to look at Bakugou, and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he nods again—only this time, at you—as if that was all the explanation you needed.

“It’s okay,” he offers, his voice low. “I’ll come and look for you by the time we’re done.”

You can only stare at him, tamping down the incredulity that’s creeping up your throat.

Since when did he decide to be Mr. Calm and Collected?

As much as you want to, you don’t question him, though, knowing it will cause more harm than good. You’re so close to the day of the operation, and the last thing you need is to blow your cover.

So instead, and with a wary heart, you nod back at him, before leaning in and pressing a quick peck on his cheek.

“Take care, babe,” you say timidly, grateful he took the kiss just now like a champ—with little to no faltering.

“I will,” comes his weirdly soft response, before he steps out of his seat and trails behind Omiru, leaving you and your tray of empty plates.

You move to tuck the stretchy fabric into the rest of the contorted arrangement you’ve got going on—folding your panties was the most you could think of doing to keep your mind off the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you the entire day, after all—and plop it on your pile of fresh undergarments.

Or at least, you were going to do that, when the door to your bedroom suddenly bursts open, and you startle so badly, that the neat stack of underwear crumbles like a poorly built Jenga tower on top of the bed.

You scramble to hide them behind you just as Bakugou emerges from the hallway, and the very first thing that registers when your eyes land on him is that he’s fucking drenched.

In sweat. Drenched in sweat.

And, to your chagrin, he must’ve noticed you gaping at him because his gaze drifts over to meet yours after he closes the door behind him. “What?”

You blink at him, suddenly yanked out of your dumb stupor. “Nothing—it’s just…” you trail off, now trying to ignore the weirdly scandalous way his wet shirt is clinging to his muscled torso. You knew his hero costume accentuated and therefore showcased a built body from the chance encounters about him in the news, but seeing it through an almost translucent cover-up…

“Just what?”

You gulp, bringing your eyes back up to meet his unnervingly scrutinizing ones.

…Why is he looking at you like that?

Instead of dwelling on the thought, though, you manage to voice out the question you and the imaginary mouse in your pocket are wondering. “W-why are you so… sweaty?”

Now, if he’s offended by how that came out just a breadth’s hair away from sounding disgusted, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he crosses the short distance between him and your small wardrobe and flings it open.

“I thought you were smarter than that, princess,” comes his casual reply, and you find yourself stiffening—not just at the nickname, but at what came before that.

You frown, although he doesn’t see it with his back turned against you. “I don’t get how you’re being so nonchalant today,” you say so honestly you shock yourself, voice lowered out of instinct despite having made sure that there are no extra bugs in the room.

Whatever Bakugou expected for a response—it must’ve been anything but that—because he stops rifling through his clothes and whips to look at you, a mild expression of surprise written across his features.

But before he can say anything to that, you beat him to it. “What did they make you do, Bakugou?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but pauses before he can get a word out. You watch the man as he stands there for a second, the metaphorical gears in his head spinning loud enough that you can practically hear them. You can tell they’re still turning a beat later, even as he closes the wardrobe behind him and turns to fully face you.

“I—” he starts, hesitant, “I thought you would’ve figured.”

“Figured what?” You’re getting impatient now.

“That I was called on to start making the bombs.”

Oh.

The realization dawning on you must be evident in your profile because Bakugou nods as if in confirmation. “I was anticipating they’d call me in sooner or later, so I wasn’t surprised when that twin approached us during breakfast.”

Fuck, you feel stupid.

How you’re feeling is none of Bakugou’s business, though, so you will yourself to dip your head to show you understand. “I totally forgot about the bombs,” you admit.

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame you,” he turns again and resumes busying himself with the cabinets. “They did their research and found out my bombs are more explosive the fresher they are. Explains why they waited ‘til the last minute.”

Huh.

“I guess that also explains why you look like an over-glazed doughnut.”

That makes him bark out a laugh. “More like a wet dog, but I’ll take that.”

You’re about to say that no, he definitely looks more like an over-glazed doughnut, but then you remember you’d rather fail this mission and cause massive destruction before you go off admitting he looks…maybe just a tiny bit delectable in this state.

You’re back to avoiding the sight of…him—altogether—in silence, when Bakugou glances at you over his shoulder. “Can you pass me my towel?”

“Sure,” you say as you fetch it from where it’s hung across the couch’s backrest before padding back toward him.

You hand it over. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Now it’s your turn to stand somewhat awkwardly behind him as he finishes up gathering his change of clothes for the night. There’s one more thing you need to ask him.

Anytime now.

You take a sharp inhale just as he whirls to face you, expectant. You muster a small smile, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I was just gonna ask—they didn’t hurt you, did they? You were treated okay?”

Your stomach instantly drops when the expectant look just now morphs into a smirk. “I think you underestimate my ability to protect myself, princess.”

You feel yourself flame. “I—” you stammer, wildly caught off guard, and his grin widens. You then frown, resigned. “Come on, man, not cool.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, sounding far from apologetic, “‘m sorry. Though, you should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“That’s it,” you raise your hands in mock surrender, spinning to gather your folded underwear that are still scattered on the bed. “They can go ahead and snip off your balls, for all I care.”

“Damn, that escalated quickly.”

You only toss him a sarcastic smile as you take up the spot beside him, opening your tiny drawer and dumping the articles into them before he can get a closer glimpse. The last thing you need is for him to see your threadbare, granny panties.

Bakugou chuckles again, the indication of his mirth the last sound that echoes in the room before a quiet envelops the two of you, the atmosphere taking a sudden shift.

“How about you, huh?” he suddenly asks, almost making you jump. You raise an eyebrow at him, still not quite past his earlier teasing.

He doesn’t react with hostility, though, only shrugging in response. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” you parrot lamely, shocked at his query.

To your disbelief, he doesn’t roll his eyes or shoot you a derisive quip, only nodding—an unmistakable, serious glint in his crimson gaze. You gulp despite yourself.

“It was pretty much the same for me, I guess. Except there weren’t as many people around…”

You falter, debating whether or not you should tell him the more incriminating truth. But then you make the mistake of meeting his penetrating stare and then suddenly, it all comes tumbling out.

“I—I was worried about you.”

That takes Bakugou by surprise, his brows shooting up in a profound display of bewilderment. An abrupt pang of embarrassment shoots through you at the sight, and you scurry to save face.

“Looks like there was no need, though, considering how you’re joking around and being an ass and all,” you jest, taking the hoodie you were meaning to get from the rack and closing your side of the wardrobe.

“I—”

“Good night, Bakugou,” you cut him off, plopping yourself on the couch with your back turned against him, effectively shooting the conversation down.

Needless to say, you struggle to sleep that night.

As if she knew you fell into a fitted slumber and needed more goddamn sleep, Omiru was already up and banging at your door five minutes earlier than usual the morning after, ripping you out of your sluggish haze. It didn’t help that it was your turn on the couch that night—which, even after all this time of dozing there, still proved to be quite unforgiving to your neck and lower back, especially. Once you were all ready and had opened the door, though, your usual routine was done but not before a rundown on what was to happen that day. You were to pack your things and prepare to leave the headquarters by the time Bakugou was done producing the last batch of bombs.

She conveniently didn’t say when that was, opting to whisk Bakugou away instead.

So without any idea as to when you were making the move, you tried your best to keep busy—a task that proved to be herculean, seeing as how the number of people present had dwindled significantly, you could count them with just your fingers and toes.

It didn’t take you long to figure out why that was. The people who’ve gone—they were all teleported to their posts to prepare for tomorrow’s attack.

By batches.

Because, as it turns out, you were right. Kouki’s quirk does have a limitation.

He can only muster enough power to teleport a certain number of people—across a certain distance—a handful of times a day. It all depends on three factors: number, distance, and frequency.

And because Bakugou’s got important business as the organization’s very own human-bomb factory, you two will be transported later in the day as part of the last batch.

You mull over this newfound information—again and again, mainly because there really isn’t much else to do other than pack—until, unbeknownst to you, the clock on the wall strikes five. You jump from where you are seated on the sofa when, as if on cue, the door bursts open, revealing a yet again sweaty Bakugou, with Kouki and the twins tailing closely behind him.

“Just let me take a quick shower and finalize my stuff,” Bakugou offhandedly says, eyeing you as he picks up his towel, not wasting even a modicum of a second. “Then we’ll get going to my place.”

His what?

“Sorry?” you manage to ask, acutely aware of the panic that’s rising in your throat—fast.

Bakugou peers at you for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. But then he’s chuckling—oh so naturally, like your reaction was adorable to him rather than potentially detrimental to your covers—as he walks toward you.

And then he’s leaning down and into your space, a warning look in his eyes. You barely catch a glimpse of it before he leans even further and kisses your cheek, smiling as he pulls away.

“My place, baby,” he coos, “Where we’ll stay the night.”

“Here we are,” Kouki announces just as the floor beneath you rematerializes, light and markedly spotless as compared to the nicked, hardwood floors you’ve grown to be familiar with over the past weeks. You look up, a faint trace of dizziness clouding your mind still, although it’s quickly replaced by awe as you take in the rest of the room.

Dropping your luggage to the side, you make quick work of what can only be Bakugou Katsuki’s living space.

Well, it’s just what you’d expect from the guy. Purposively designed, no-nonsense, and exceptionally pristine.

And closer to the Prime Minister’s Office. At least, as compared to your more modest home, which is why you’re even here in the first place.

Regardless, you were about to compliment the man for being an outlier of the male population when you suddenly remember that you’re supposed to be well-acquainted with his high-rise apartment unit. You know, as his girlfriend?

You slam your mouth shut, just as Kouki steps forward and turns to face the rest of you like a commander in the military. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Big day tomorrow,” he declares, his trademark haughtiness heavy in his tone. “The four of you, review your assignments and be ready by 6 AM sharp. I’ll pick you up here.”

Then, a pointed look toward you and Bakugou. “Don’t be late.”

And just as quickly as you teleported into the pro-hero’s unit, Kouki vanishes, leaving the two of you with the twins.

Silence.

“That man’s got a bug up his old ass, that’s for sure.”

You whip to face Bakugou, surprised and equal parts amused. He only tosses you a smug look, as if daring you to question him.

You don’t, similar to how you don’t dare spare either of the twins a worried glance.

“We should order,” Bakugou says not a minute later, effortlessly picking up your belongings and transferring them to an empty spot beside a door. “I cleared out the ref two weeks ago. ‘m out of groceries.”

“Sure,” you reply, seating yourself comfortably on his sofa like you’ve been here countless times. You sense all three pairs of eyes studying you as you burrow into the plush cushion, willing every neuron in your system to relax. “How ‘bout from that restaurant we went to with the squad? I’m craving some curry.”

“Aha,” Bakugou smirks as he walks over and throws his butt down way too close beside you. “So you did want to switch.”

You bristle, if not at being unceremoniously caught then at how he just slung an arm over the backrest behind you. “T–That’s beside the point,” you argue, before swiftly turning to Hiroto. “Can we have our phones for just a sec, please? We need to order.”

If Bakugou noticed your smooth segue slash redirection just now, he doesn’t point it out, instead letting you take your smartphones from the absurdly tall man without much of a hassle. You quickly place your orders—even asking the twins what they want despite how badly they’ve treated you since your first meeting at that dingy club.

You’re not a monster, after all.

They seem to think you are, though, because they blatantly ignore your kind offer.

Well, then. If they have a hard time falling asleep because of hunger later then that’s not your problem anymore.

Not even thirty minutes after ordering, your food arrives, and the twins end up allowing Bakugou to go down the lobby by himself to fetch the delivery. You almost groan when he walks through the door with the goods in tow, the strong waft of curry sauce filling the air and making your stomach churn in budding anticipation.

“You’re not helping your case, babe,” Bakugou teases as you excitedly pore over the takeout bag, reaching into it to grab your share and then his.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over this glorious smell,” you quip, which grants you a chuckle.

No more words are exchanged as you get started on your feast, too wiped out from today’s activities—Bakugou and his bomb production and your…well, trying not to go crazy—to even start, let alone maintain, a steady conversation. The room is silent aside from some slurping and quiet chewing here and there, with neither Omiru nor Hiroto saying anything to break the monotony.

And you think it must be that—the quiet—that spurs the abrupt observation mid-spoonfeed of how domestic everything is. You wouldn’t have ever thought you’d be eating a meal with Bakugou in his dining room—high schooler you definitely wouldn’t have—but as it turns out life’s got a funny way of pulling the rug from underneath you and messing with your head.

Just like these muddy ass feelings.

No, you think to yourself. Now’s not the time.

Not when you’re barely able to stomach your food, anyway. You were—are hungry—if the incessant rumbling of your abdomen since late afternoon was any indication—but you forgot you’ve been sickeningly nervous the entire day. Still, you force each bite down. The last thing you need is to be frail tomorrow.

“Here,” Bakugou reaches out from across the table a few moments later, “Give me your plate.”

“No,” you say as you lift the empty ceramic further from him, “Let me help.”

Your plea falls on deaf ears, however, because Bakugou leans closer and snatches the dish from your hands before you can even scream a strangled wait! You must be looking stupefied, because Bakugou only smirks at you as he quickly gathers the dishes, beaming with pride as if having a ridiculously wide wing span is something he earned rather than was unjustly given.

“Unfair…” you mumble as you resort to gathering the trash instead, collecting it in the bag that the delivery came in.

“Just leave it there,” he calls out from the kitchen a few feet away, scraping the scraps off the platters. And when he’s realized you’re not listening: “Babe.”

You lift your hands like you’re a contestant in Master Chef and Gordon Ramsey just called time’s up, a petulant frown on your face. “Jeez, I’m just trying to help.”

“And I’m trying to be a gentleman,” comes his snarky retort. You bite back the urge to snort. “Go unpack in the bedroom while I finish up here,” he orders, “I’ll be quick.”

Please don’t be is your visceral reaction, although you manage not to say it out loud. You need at least ten minutes—give or take—of being alone in his bedroom to come to terms with this precarious situation you’ve been dealt with. You manage to reply with a small ‘okay’ before heading over to grab your things, very much cognizant of the ticking clock.

But then it dawns on you that you don’t have any idea where his fucking bedroom is.

You pause mid-bend, pretending you’re studying the hard case of your luggage for non-existent scratches. You know that there are three doors, not counting the one Bakugou went in and out from to get your food. One has to lead to the common restroom, another to his home office slash gym that you’ve heard him talk about once during your lunches at the headquarters, which leaves the last one as his bedroom’s entryway.

Hurry up, your brain tells you. You’re getting suspicious.

Wait.

You let your mind flash back to a while ago, a few moments after you arrived here. ‘We should order,’ was what Bakugou said, as he conveniently hefted your bags to this spot here, which must be right beside…

The bedroom door.

Bingo.

You repress a sigh of relief when you’re greeted with the sight of a massive mattress upon turning the knob, wasting no time as you squeeze into the threshold with your belongings. You were about to shut the door behind you when a female voice calls out your name out of nowhere, and you startle. Turning to face who must’ve been Omiru, you’re quick to put on a nonchalant facade, as if she didn’t just scare you in your metaphorical boots.

“Your tracker,” she says flatly when you don’t move an inch.

“O–oh. Right.”

You stand in place as she goes over the motions while Hiroto does the same with Bakugou. You’ve gone through this so many times that you don’t even wince when she rips out the device, instead only giving her a quick thanks and a rare good night when she steps away.

She doesn’t say it back.

You take that as your cue to go back into Bakugou’s sleeping quarters, and only when the weighty slab of wood is closed behind you do you let out a heavy exhale, suddenly feeling the fatigue that’s been looming over you since last night in its entirety.

But then that’s immediately booted out with a shot of adrenaline when you see it.

The couch.

Or the lack thereof.

You're still standing there—mortified—by the time Bakugou enters the room with his stuff, shutting the door and consequently granting you your first semblance of privacy for the day.

“What,” he says more than asks a minute later, when you still haven’t said anything.

“There’s no couch,” you croak-whisper.

You were not about to sleep on the floor.

You were not about to share a bed with Bakugou, either.

Not after you’ve spent the last two weeks slaving over your high-maintenance sleeping arrangement.

“Relax, dumbass,” comes his fluid retort. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the man is finding this shit funny. “I have a futon.”

Turns out, he wasn’t lying—what feels like a huge burden lifted off your shoulders when he opens a cabinet to his right and pulls out a moderately thick cushion. You waste no time in assisting him, taking two corners while the pro-hero handles the other two, coordinating as you place the futon perpendicularly, right at the foot of the bed.

“Thanks,” you tell him when you’re done, dusting off your hands. “Do you have a blanket I can—”

“Too late,” he cuts you off, lightly diving into the mattress.

You gawk at the man. “Wha—”

“It’s your turn on the bed tonight,” he says as a matter of factly, not even bothering to look you in the eye. You splutter, but ultimately relent. As much as you want to argue, you do need some proper rest, especially after last night’s sorry attempt at recharging.

Thankfully, though, Bakugou doesn’t rile you up any further as you each go through your nightly routines and take turns in the built-in bathroom, careful not to invade each other’s spaces. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes and you’re already both plastered and tucked in your respective beds, the occasional noises from the traffic tens of floors below you the only thing filling the otherwise empty air.

But as it turns out, the getting ready for bed part isn’t the problem.

By the time it’s 10 PM, you’ve already tossed and turned roughly twenty times, agonizingly nowhere near asleep despite the luxurious bedding beneath your limbs. It’s after the 21st time, though, that you finally let your mind wander to the man on the floor and whether or not he’s asleep. He must be—having been tuckered out from producing explosives for two days straight. Still, your mind refuses to let go of the thought—brimming with boredom-fueled curiosity that’s begging for visual confirmation.

Sitting up carefully, you strain to peek at Bakugou. He’s been awfully quiet, you think to yourself.

Just a little bit more—

“Can’t sleep?”

You freeze. Shit.

“Uh, no,” you reply, aborting mission and lying back down as silently as possible. “Not really.”

“No shit. I heard you, the last twenty times.”

“Twenty-one,” you correct him. “But who’s counting?”

That earns you a laugh. “What, you scared?”

Your face reflexively contorts in offense, although it’s quick to fall when you realize you’ve actually no right to be offended. “If I told you I was, would that make me a loser?”

To your surprise, his answer is instant. “Nah.”

At that, your brows furrow. “That’s it? Just nah? No what do you think, princess, or some other equally lame taunt?”

“Oooh.” Jesus, you can practically hear him smirking. “You want me to call you princess?”

“There it is. Welcome back, Bakugou.”

A chuckle. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

You snort. “So I’ve been told.”

Then, a pause.

“Hey,” you start again a few beats later, gaze fixed—unwavering—on the gray ceiling, “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

You gulp. “Are you scared?”

This time, the answer is not as instant, but it appears to remain the same. “…No.”

“Really?” you ask, voice inadvertently teeming with incredulity.

You hear some rustling, like he’s shrugging against the bedsheets. “I’ve gone through much worse.”

Oh…

Right.

He did die and came out as one of the most important heroes of the Great War, alongside formidable people—the very people you tapped to help you just a few days ago. Maybe he’s right not to be scared.

“Is it my turn now?” he pipes up suddenly.

Huh? “Your what?”

“My turn to ask a question.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were taking turns.”

“Well, we are now.”

You roll your eyes, comfortable in the knowledge that he can’t see you. “Okay, then. Go ahead.”

Now—don’t go ahead, is what you would have said, had you fucking known what he was going to say next.

“That day before winter break—” he begins, and you find yourself instantly tensing.

Fuck, no.

He huffs. “—You were gonna confess to me, weren’t ya?”

Fuck.

A deafening silence falls upon the room.

A silence that goes on for what must be a decade.

Then—

“…Is this some hidden camera prank or something?” you laugh dryly.

“No,” he says so seriously your eyes widen. “I was just…thinking about it.”

Well, fuck. Now he’s done it.

What are you supposed to do? Or say to that? Deny it and say, dude, no, you’re delusional? Or ask him where he got the motherfucking audacity and call it a day?

But then the strangest thing happens and an inexplicable feeling washes over you, one that is too nostalgic it’s almost painful.

Ah, yes.

You remember this one.

It wasn’t the first one to show up in the scene, but it was quick to envelop every other emotion afterward, lingering with you until the soothing balm that is time did its magical work and helped you forget.

The regret of not being able to admit your feelings.

And now, a full ten years later, you’re suddenly thrust with the opportunity to finally do what you failed to do then.

You don’t even have to think about it.

“Yes,” you rasp out, heart thrumming frantically against your chest. “I mean, the answer is yes, I was going to. Luckily you didn’t let me get to the embarrassing part, though, huh?”

“Look, I—”

“If you’re gonna apologize,” you cut him off, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Bakugou. That thing’s in the past now. I’ve moved on, as fucking cheesy as it sounds.”

You then chuckle, ignoring the way your hands are stubbornly shaking. “That was just a silly high school crush, anyway.”

“Yeah, well—” he clears his throat, “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it. But…I do still want to apologize, though. For that first day, around two weeks ago.”

“What about it?”

“You don’t remember? I was an ass to you.”

First day? You don’t—

But then it all comes rushing to you—the intimidating looks, the backhanded remarks, the outright insulting comments.

He sniggers. “You just remembered now, didn’t you?”

You blanch. “I—”

“Don’t try to be nice,” he preempts. “I know I fucked up. It’s just—it was a lot to take in, and I took it out on you.”

He heaves a heavy sigh. “First it was having my past rehashed, and then when I met you I got reminded of how arrogant I was as a kid and it just felt like—”

“A slap to the face?”

Another huff. “Exactly.”

You smile—genuinely—this time wishing you were face to face so he could get a good view of it. You try to let it show in your voice instead.

“Thank you for telling me, Bakugou. Apology accepted.”

A sigh of relief. You feel your smile grow bigger.

“Now go to sleep, dumbass,” he spits, the vulnerability from just a second ago long gone, now replaced by his signature snark. “You heard the old geezer. Big day tomorrow.”

You can’t help it—you laugh.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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dont-look-its-embarrassing · 1 day ago

Text

Inner Ace

This summary is a bit long winded, so I apologize for the pre-read to the actual story, it just gives a lot of contexts to where I am going to start the story off.

Summary: When the Archerons where all but banished to the forests, struck with bad luck and poverty from their once luxurious lifestyle, there was one person who cared how the family survived. Y/n. Having always lived on the edge of society and just above starving from her forever grieving mother and recently vacated father, she learned to keep her life afloat. Running into a young Feyre in the woods, almost mistaking her for the wind, elder (although only by a couple years) Y/n took her under her wing and became the mentor and sister that she never knew despite the two of them that shared her name. When Feyre was taken by the Fae, Y/n was distraught, waiting and searching the border every day during her hunts. That is, until one day there is a knock on her door, behind it stood the very woman she ever considered family, but she isn't alone, and why are her ears pointy? Who are these men with wings? Why can she not look away from one of them?

Warnings: slight swearing, Nesta AND Elaine SLANDER (sorry you cannot have one without the other), slight anxiety, alcohol mention, family reuniting fluffy feelings, (almost) instant attraction (Idk if this is a warning but some people don't like it moving quick), slow burn (to an actual established romance)

I do want to make this a series, as I adore the thought of Feyre having a best friend before the IC who taught her the ropes. Plus, there could be a fun little spin and some angst with a potential mate that is SO low hanging fruit to me.

Enjoy!!

The wind howled outside the thin walls of Y/n's home. The slight chill in the air despite being housed within them made her shiver and shift herself towards the kindling fire in the quaint fireplace in her living room.

It was bitter out when Y/n heard a knock come from her front door. Not expecting company, she had figured it was Elaine with some other excuse to get her to sway Nesta into doing some task. Responding with a small “Coming” she hustled to the door.

Who she opened it to was not who was expected, but only someone she had prayed every day to see again.

“Feyre?” Her voice shook and she swore she saw a small shadow dart out of the corner of her eye. Blaming it on the still boiling water for the food she had yet to make in the kitchen, she dismissed it.

“Hey Y/n.” The smile that overtook Y/n's face as with a motion of open arms, her best friend all but launched herself into her embrace. The strength in which Feyre landed made Y/n take a step to steady themselves, but she didn't think twice to return the embrace.

“Oh thank the gods." her voice was a whisper as Y/n's habit of stroking the younger girls' hair picked up. Although, it seemed to have missed a couple inches as instead of meeting the crown of her head, her hand landed at the back of her skull. "I thought I would never see you again.” The last breath of air in her lungs followed this exclamation, followed by inhaling as much of the girl as she could.

“Didn’t have faith I would make it back huh?” Feyre raised a brow before hearing a small chuckle. When that corrupt Fae had taken Feyre, he had allowed her a simple visit once (to y/n's knowledge, she never trusted Feyre's sisters to tell her the truth about her visits). Through this, Y/n was unable to see her best friend even the off chance she would come back over the border. From the mouth of the middle sister, Elaine, Feyre had asked them to send message that she was okay and not to worry as she would see Y/n soon. This was before the Archerons gained the financial backing of the very Fae that stole Feyre. It was a jarring image of a once fragile Elaine (although still beautiful) now adorned in clean and well sewn dress. The whole situation was still sour in Y/n's mouth.

“Not even. I knew you would get out, don’t discredit my teaching skills like that.” Pulling back from Y/n, Feyre couldn’t help the smile that took over her features, as if analyzing the girl's condition, before embracing the Y/n once again.

When returning to the oddly taller Feyre's embrace, a slight brush of skin coming from the girl upon Y/n's cheek startled her slightly. Only then did Y/n take note of the small physical change her friend had adorned.

“Woah there," She pulled away turning Feyre's head to the side while scaling her appendage with confusion, " you are going to poke my eye out with this.”

Lightly flicking the now sharpened ear Feyre took in a breath, turning her head back and taking her wrist, gently pulling it down to rest still intertwined by her side. Sensing the slight nervousness from Feyre, Y/n pulled her inside fully positioning herself to begin closing the door, scanning the area to make sure nobody had seen her best friend enter.

“They kind of suit you Fey, but I do expect a full explanation." The breath Feyre held released and an easy smile lifted her face once again. She knew Y/n would still be on her side. The countless days they spent together, the things they learned together, the secrets they share. Feyre's body visibly relaxed realizing that despite all that her best friend had heard and experienced with Fae, she truly just cared that Feyre was okay. "Although, if you plan on going outside, I demand you take the hood I made for our hunts. The bigger one. I don't need any nosey neighbor seeing you and coming for your head with a spike.

“Of course.” The door shut behind them before the Feyre realized as she lost her train of thought and why she was truly here. Quickly, as if the little lock clicking switched her brain back to focus, she rushed out a quick, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything, you know that.” Y/n slightly scorned as she turned away to go heat up some drinks for the two of them in the kitchen. Seriously, she didn’t care about the trouble; she was just happy her friend was back and healthy (although the new appendages did have her at a bit of a loss). Feyre smiled before making way over to the small living room, sitting down on one of the now plush seats that sat around the fire. It was updated from when she last remembered this room. Back then it was colder, less like home, but the little decorative flares of Y/n brought the small and impoverished place to life.

“Me and some friends have to try and talk to my sisters into helping us win a war,” She stated. Rip the band aid off and all.

“Don’t see how they are going to be much help.” Y/n couldn’t help but mutter but given the slightly scorning glare from Feyre she raised her hands in submission. “Just saying’.”

“As I was saying, a few of my friends need to rest for the night before going over there. Is it okay if we take a couple days and stay here whilst we try and figure out how this is all going to work?” Y/n smiled before setting a cup of warmed tea beside her friend.

"Are they..." Y/n didn't know how to go about asking without making it sound like her best friend was a monster now, but Feyre understood once she trailed off.

"Yes." Looking off to the side Y/n watched as her best friend's face bloomed into a smile she thought only reserved for when they were together. As if Y/n's heart couldn't get any warmer. "I do have to add though, they have some extra... Attributes."

Y/n quirked her brow in question, but if their heritage was any louder than Feyre's in front of her, if word got out that she willingly let them in, it wouldn't end well.

To put it bluntly, Fey was asking something of her that could get her maimed, tortured and killed.

“Of course.” She replied without much else behind her reasoning aside from the love she had for who asked her. Feyre’s friends were hers (despite the rather ominous implication of attributes) and she lived with loyalty for the girl. Plus, she had an inkling one of the reasons Feyre looked so happy and healthy was from these ‘friends’ so she didn’t mind as much.

Without missing a beat, the fae girl looked to Y/n with warmth and took a drink of her warmed beverage.

“I missed you.” Feyre spoke as another knock sounded at the door.

“Have they been outside this whole time?!" The possibility of the 'friends' being seen while waiting outside the house sent Y/n into a flurry of motion to open the door again. With her Feyre chuckling behind her. Without so much a glance to who she was inviting in, Y/n had ushered them in quickly. “In, in! It’s cold and I don't need the town coming for my head sooner rather than later.”

The girl didn’t even give herself time to process that two of them had wings and the third no doubted was simply hiding them as his stature imitated the other two.

Shutting the door, a beat of silence passed over the house as she truly looked at each man.

There where Fae in her house... Three rather large male Fae.

The attributes comment made sense now.

Y/n took a shaky breath with a wavering 'okay~' to follow before darting off to the small kitchen to prep herself and provide some hospitality to the newfound friends of Feyre.

Only for a second however, for she returned with three more mugs of the warm drink that Feyre was already halfway done with.

“These are for you.” Y/n emphasized keeping her voice steady as she handed them the steaming beverage. One of them had glanced at Feyre in a slight question as she raised her mug towards him.

"It's better than I remembered actually." Feyre's statement had Y/n glancing over to her but assumed that the conversation between them had taken place a time ago. He had taken a sip with the assurance and nodded in appreciation at the beverage.

"Thank you." His voice was smooth, that with his partnered purple eyes, Y/n had shrunk slightly under his gaze. Although it was nice of him to show an appreciation. The other two next had also nodded along, Y/n didn't see them take a swig but assumed they had tried it as well.

“Please, sit and make yourself comfortable.” The human girl mentioned to the couches and took the opportunity to analyze more closely the people in her house. The one who talked was the shortest, but not by much. His stature was also the leanest, but she doubted it meant any lack of strength with the way his posture stood. Following him was one of the winged ones. Taller, in fact looking over him again Y/n believed him to be the tallest of the bunch. He was the strongest looking out of the three, with longer hair and red stones adorning his attire. The final man to take a seat seemed to be the most reluctant to do so. Adorned with blue stones that seemed to pulse with his slight nerves that Y/n spotted above his brow bone, she imagined he was just as hesitant as she was. His gaze was unwavering as he briefly met Y/n's, the color hazel had her lost in them. However, that wasn't the only thing that caught her attention, but the silk tendrils of what looked like smoke that wove through the air around him. Even in the sheer moments it took for them to situate themselves, Y/n found herself engrossed in watching the way they danced through the air.

It was then she realized she wasn't scared of them, at least not that one

As they placed themselves, Y/n met eyes with her best friend once more, catching the furrowed expression on Feyre's face as she attempted to read her. Upon catching Y/n's eyes trailing the last male, that notorious shit eating grin spread over her face but hid it with the ceramic mug still in her hands.

Y/n narrowed her eyes at the girl.

As they sat, purple eyes were next to Feyre, red stone guy in the middle and blue man closest to her on the homemade seating. Luckily, she had made another seat not too long ago when she was sick and couldn't hunt for the week, this was where she situated herself. Although, it didn't help that the most distracting man was sat not a couple feet away from her. Not that she minded, just the slight breeze of the darkness countered the heat of the being which already had her attention drawn over to him in curiosity. As the men with wings shifted the tug of nerves in her chest seemed to relax when he specifically folded his wings slightly behind himself to make room on the couch. If he caught her staring at him, he didn't make any motion in showing her.

“Normally we wouldn’t just crash into a place like this unexpectedly, but we thought the best idea was to configure what was going to happen these next few days.” The wingless one started, breaking the ice quickly and efficiently. Y/n nodded along and offered a small smile but glad that she didn't have to start the conversation with such strong presences in the room.

“That's understandable.” Y/n offered a small nod as she caught Feyre's gaze. One thing the Archeron girl knew for sure was that Y/n didn't want to step on any toes or speak out of turn. This was a new area for her despite how these males where family now to Feyre. So, as Feyre watched Y/n look towards her with a slight ask for an introduction all she could do was nod and allow her to initiate it herself.

Trial by fire and all that. Feyre knew she would be fine but a part of her couldn't help but glean with amusement as she had never seen her best friend so hesitant. Just as she knew she would, the human girl spoke up.

"I'm sorry, but what are your names?" Y/n had tried with all her being to keep her head about her and steady her vocal cords. For this however she suffered the price of being quiet. "I don't want to be rude and refer to you by your colors."

"Colors?" The red stoned one inquired. It wasn't taunting or teasing, but simply curious and slightly amused in tone. Without so much as opening up her mouth to speak, Y/n pointed a hesitantly to the man closest to hers' stone on his hand.

An almost silent chuckle from the said man next to her caused a small heat to run its course to her face before she sipped her drink quickly to cover the color that followed. It wasn’t unnoticed by Feyre who all but whipped her head to her and looked between the two of them. Her eyes widened and shot a look back at the wingless man, again that same smirk adorned her face. He seemed to nod her way before starting. It sent Y/n into a small spiral.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court." The breath was caught in Y/n's throat. "Here you have Cassian, my lead general for my armies,” mentioning towards the red rock male accompanied by a small wave by the man. He seemed to try and break the ice slightly by offering a large grin towards the girl, “and Azriel, my Spymaster.”

The weight of who exactly sat in her little house sat heavily on Y/n's shoulders. These weren't just Fae; these people were important and extremely powerful.

The nerves that were settling tidal waved her body again. However, with or without her knowledge, a slight breeze against her ankle had her thoughts disrupted and nerves paused as her attention was taken back to the more broodish male next to her. His eyes seemed to have been gaging her reaction prior to her catching him as he held the gaze for a moment. Y/n was thankful for the reprieve as she still let herself linger on his outline.

The Spymaster slightly bowed his head in her direction and she did it back out of pure instinct to brush off the ogling she had obviously been doing. Without noticing a small hand brushed Rhys across the room to assess the building curiosity and tension of the two.

Without Y/n's knowledge, during Feyre's time in the night court, she had recalled memories of Y/n and her while telling her new family about the few happy memories she had back in the human lands. The males in the room had all known about the human best friend prior, even holding her in a very high regard through the love and care that she had for their now high lady. As Feyre had gone more in depth with these memories, conversations over wine and late-night chats with the inner court had taken place, most of these concluding that Y/n would not only be an asset amongst them but someone's (specifically a silent-type spymaster) favorite person to talk to.

Feyre had insisted behind closed doors to her mate that the two would be a match made by the gods. Seeing them in person, Rhys couldn't help but agree.

Their personalities eerily matched, the strength. Hells, even their outward looks matched each other.

Taking a breath, the human girl let the conversation continue.

"It is a pleasure to meet all of you." Going on out on a limb Y/n had cleared her throat, "Any friend of Feyre is a friend of mine so please make yourselves at home and I will add more servings to dinner tonight.” Quickly, Y/n excused herself before she could make a fool out of herself once again with her eyes towards a certain man. She opened the pantry to grab some of the preserved meat to begin a marinade and placed it on the counter.

More hushed whispers made its way into the room from no doubt her friend poking for information, but Y/n paid no mind and allowed herself to become engrossed in the work ahead of her upon realizing that she would need to go out before the sun set any further to get some more supplies for the week as her stock was not enough as is.

In the other room, the high lady was all but giddy.

“What was that?” Feyre asked towards the shadowsinger. The lot turned to look at Azriel, all expecting some sort of answer.

"I don't know what you mean." Bluntly put, he didn't. To go more in depth with the strangeness of the past couple minutes, he had tacked it up to the budding affections for the woman based on the loving stories he had heard from Feyre, nothing more. Although the others where not convinced in the slightest.

"She seems sweet, hesitant, but sweet." He attempted to take the attention away from himself before Rhys knocked back the rest of the tea in his mug.

“Keep telling yourself that.” He smirked and turned towards his mate. Cassian, ever so clueless, gave a shrug and turned towards Feyre as well.

“I agree though, she is nice.” He began, “I thought humans hated us.”

“They do, you will see that when you meet my sisters and evidentially the queens.” Feyre began, also playing with the homemade ceramic cup as she had finished moments ago. “Y/n is different. She doesn’t judge and is loyal to no end. If you three showed up without me asking for help she probably would've shot you," Cassian winced but nodded at the image, "however she has made it clear growing up together that anyone that gained my trust has gained hers.”

"Well, hopefully we can all gain another ally here in the human lands. Give someone Azriel can bunk with when he's over here." The smug tone in Rhys's voice was obvious. The Spymaster stiffened in his spot at the inclination and tease but relaxed upon hearing the girl return from the kitchen, realizing she had most likely not heard the comment. Although, he didn't understand why he was so on edge around the female.

“Now I don’t have that many bedrooms, and by that many I mean I have two. You four should be able to fit fine as long as a pair of you share, there are only three beds.” The human girl began sitting down ever so slightly closer, to who she now knows as Azriel, and then continued. “I’ll be down here on the couch so you all can have your privacy.”

The aspect of the girl before him sleeping on an uncomfortable plush chair didn’t jive the best with Azriel as he watched Cassian turn towards her and give one of his show stopping smiles with a small ‘Thanks’ to follow. She returned it and then looked towards Rhys offering herself slightly. She seemed more confident now, settled with the information that had been piled onto her prior.

“If you guys want some privacy, I can go make myself busy for a couple hours. I need to see if there is any migration in the hunt this year so I can start curing it. The sun is setting soon so I need to go sooner rather than later” Feyre turned towards her with a confused startle, one that Y/n took as her calling her out on trying to leave. "I just need to be gone for a bit, it'll give you all time and me time to make sure you also weren't found." She attempted to assure, but that wasn't what had Feyre so obviously now upset.

“You still hunt?” The girl knew the dangers of the woods just outside the door purely because Y/n had taught her such, but why would she still need to exert herself and put herself in danger, Feyre didn't know. She was still young, older than Feyre had been prior to meeting Rhys yes, but why she would willingly still put herself at risk was a loss to the group. All of them had the understanding that a specific high lord was supposed to provide for the loved ones of Feyre. Call it protective instinct, but they had grown slightly attached to the girl, even more so now that they had officially met. "Y/n, why would you still go out and hunt. I mean I know you like your time and I this house holds memories, so I see why you stayed despite it all..." Y/n had tilted her head in question, taking a moment as Feyre continued to speak. "But you taught me yourself, it isn't safe out there and to put yourself in danger unnecessarily seems reckless."

It clicked with Y/n upon hearing her best friend finish her thoughts. The hunch that she had about the Fae and Feyre's sister's status came back into her mind as all her theories about her being left for the wolves (figuratively and literally) were confirmed. Sighing, Y/n placed her bow around her back, looking to Feyre with warmth. She had to try and break this gently as not to further ruin the strained relationship amongst her sisters.

“The Fae you bargained with said he would provide for your family, loved ones...” All tension left her as understanding emanated through her pores, it was almost palpable. He didn't know why, but as she met Feyre’s eyes made Azriel’s heart throb, “I’m not blood related Feyre.”

"That shouldn't have mattered. I said family and loved ones. The aid that came to Elain and Nesta should've been extended to you as well." A small wince ricocheted off Y/n's features, but she schooled it back quickly as to not enrage the fae woman more.

"They needed it more."

The realization upon the girl's face crushed Y/n slightly and she backtracked quickly.

“Don’t worry though! It’s not like I had any family to care for since everyone left so my sources weren't drained as much,” She winced as almost all eyes turned to her as she was not helping her case, “Hunting isn’t too bad lately and I have some leftover stock when I need it.”

“He didn’t help you. They didn't help you...” Y/n chuckled before pure disbelief rooted from Feyre’s. “Ace, I am so sorry. I thought you would be involved in the aid or that they would make sure you got some, I didn’t mean for you to be left-”

The nickname pulled strings within Y/n's heart, all the while everyone in the room had felt theirs crack and fill with flames towards the high lord of spring and the blood relatives of Feyre.

“Angel, it’s okay. To be honest it didn’t register with me either until the riches came for your family and I was left.” The boys glanced towards the human girl, one looked prolonged and had an urge to send her a comforting word despite his confused mentality. Rhys sensed the distress his mate still felt as she watched Y/n try to break the awkwardness as she slipped the bow off her shoulders and picked up her quiver. All the while Azriel couldn’t control the small lick of shadows that wrapped around her ankle and gently rippled towards her in a comforting manner, pulling her gently back to the sitting room and hearth.

“What is this?” She questioned before reaching out and having another small tendril wrap around her wrist and lay in her palm almost as if looking at her. The swirl of the black and what seemed to be a small abyss entrapped her attention as an Illyrian held his breath in a slight surprise. “Well, hello.”

The shadow rippled towards her and ran up her arm slowly as she murmured at how pretty it looked. Y/n didn't truly know to what extent the fae's hearing could go as if she did, she most likely would have kept her mouth shut about the beauty of the wisp. Heat had flushed Azriel's ears, subtle enough to hide, but not enough for him to ignore the stir in his chest. Normally, Az would pull the darkness back, not allow them to roam as freely as not to scare someone by accident. However, with the girl's soft expression from her moment with Feyre, and the gentleness that she held her hands out to cup the shadow. He couldn’t help but allow the shadow to explore and settle before the girl’s ear. He allowed the shadows at his back whisper everything they found about her as they did their assessment.

Genuine. Gentle. Keep. We like. We like. Soft. We like.

For a human, Y/n was beautiful, effortlessly so. Azriel didn't need his shadows to tell him that much.

Y/n didn't know if this was offensive to partake in or just a normal weeknight occurrence with the dark tendrils. She had glanced at Feyre from across the room but couldn't catch her eye as she seemed lost in thought.

A breath in her ear startled Y/n so much she jumped. Someone had whispered in her ear, but taking count of everyone as they were, nobody stood next to her. Y/n naturally queried her head and listened further as to hear it again if it decided to repeat its' actions.

“Is it talking to you?” Cassian prompted, almost awestruck. The human gave a quick shake of her head, still remaining quiet.

"No, no. I don't think so anyway." Turning her head back to them again she shrugged, "It just felt like someone breathed against my ear."

"They are cool aren't they?" Feyre goaded from across the room. "When I first met them I couldn't help but want to know more."

"Feyre darling, when you first met them, Cass had to assure you they didn't bite..." A small thwack sounded in the room as Cassian laughed at the memory and now narrowed eyes of the High Lord to his lady.

“They are soft.” She muttered back, not truly focused on the now appeased atmosphere. “They feel soft.” A sigh escaped Azriel in a twisted sense of relief. However, without realizing it, that one breath costed him a split second of control on the wisps as a larger bunch followed the single to where it stood wrapped around the nape of Y/n's neck. As a physical reaction, he had attempted to grab it back, but to no avail.

Y/n had frozen, looking at the Spymaster in a slightly panicked fashion.

"This isn't going to like..." Y/n winced again but deadpanned her features to bring a little humor into the situation, "...kill me, right? I don't think they make headstones explaining 'death by mist' here."

Cassian and Feyre had let out a laugh at the image while Rhys let a smile reach his eyes. As for Azriel, all the poor male could do was shake his head, not trusting his voice. As he watched her, he could've sworn there was a twinkle within her eye at the darkness that normally shrouded him.

It did bring a sense of peace to himself and satisfy an urge he didn’t know he had.

“These things talk to you?" The question rung out of Y/n with confidence. Whatever nerves she had prior with the bunch seeming to truly run from her body. Rhys looked towards the shadow singer in confirmation, while again, Azriel simply nodded his head. This girl truly had him lost for words.

“Well do you all have a name?” The question was not asked towards the bunch in front of Y/n. No, Y/n believed to ask the wisps that were at Az's beck and call if they had a name. Azriel cocked his head. Did she just ask if the shadows had a name? The smile that spread over Azriel's face was almost contagious. A small giggle fascinated him from his thoughts and Y/n noted the ripple of dark that now snuck fully away from the winged man she was undeniably but in denial about being attracted to.

“Is that a weird question?"

"No, not at all." Az tried to play it off, his image was on the line here.

"His shadows are basically an extension of himself Y/n." Cassian slung an arm around the back of the seat to turn more towards her. "It's his 'emotions and unconscious thoughts' type stuff that controls them if he doesn't think about it."

"Oh." Her face flushed. "Oops."

"Don't worry about it." It was rushed, but the assurance hit Y/n as she offered a smile.

“Az, I think your shadows have a new favorite.” Azriel shot Cassian a glare before slightly softening towards the girl. For some reason, he didn’t mind the slight intrusion. The aspect of her being close to something that could protect her and be with her no matter what eased an instinctual itch that he could only remember feeling towards his High lady upon her ascension. This ran deeper, but the itch was there, nonetheless.

“I’m glad you like them." Another small lick of the tendril eased its way behind her ear as the rest slinked back towards the spymaster and he immediately found himself focusing on questioning what they talked about and why they reacted to her in such a way.

Warm. Sneaking glances. Hope.

Busy bodies.

“Oh, they definitely have a new favorite.” Rhys couldn’t help but give a smirk towards Y/n before standing and asking where the rooms were for the night, he wished to wash up from their journey. Jumping, Y/n had corrected herself before reaching for the door, adjusting to the leftover sunlight of the forest.

“Of course! Where are my manners? It's up those stairs and to the left for you two.” She turned to Feyre, “You get my room. You know how to work the bath.”

Grateful, Feyre bowed slightly and sent a wink before following the man up the stairs.

“You two are getting the guest room, there are two beds which should fit,” She shot a look towards the massive wings behind them, “most of you.”

Cassian laughed.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed! I am going to hopefully continue this with little inserts throughout the story to keep it interesting. I had a whole years' worth of one-shots that I am trying to re-vamp to this plot line, but if anyone has any requests do let me know! I don't have anything on my page about requests, but my inbox is open if anyone wants to shoot one my way.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #feyre archeron #azriel x you #azriel acotar #slow burn #azriel x human reader #best friend feyre

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svnriseblvdd · 1 day ago

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neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: when your car breaks down right as you need to pick up a friend in metropolis, clark offers to give you a ride (not the type you want) and you step up your game.

everyone thank my writer's block, because if not for that, this would never have been as out there as it is. like if i'd released this half a week ago, it would not be anywhere near this level. i still had writer's block while grinding this out, so every question of where to go next was answered with 'make it HORNIER'. and you're welcome.

WARNINGS: mentions of road head, brief palming, accidental crotch grab, innuendo, clark is perpetually horny and shameful (who isn't?), he's still so down bad and needs loving desperately. (someone let this boy get RAILED (that's my job, really, but i promise i've got one more chapter idea before he FUCKS))

part one! part two! part three!

You sigh frustratedly as you lift the hood of your car to try to gauge the problem. Perhaps the problem was that the car was old as hell, just repainted and spruced up a little to give the illusion that it was simply vintage, not a second hand metal bag of parts.

“Everything okay?”

You look up to find Clark coming over. Whether it's good luck or not, you've broken down in front of the Kents house. No family nicer than the Kents exist. It's entirely possible. They're endlessly helpful. The problem, as always, is their gorgeous son.

It's hot out, he's been sweating enough to give him a particular entrancing sheen over his skin. And now you're frustrated for two very different reasons.

“No. Stupid car broke down,” you muttered, chest heaving in a sigh.

Clark’s gaze wanders, against his will. All of a sudden, he’s looking at your chest, the way your breasts have been pushed up by a combination of that gorgeous tank top and probably the bra beneath it. And now he’s thinking about your underwear. You in your underwear and nothing else. You standing in your underwear in front of him, begging for his help once again.

He closes his eyes firmly and looks away, mentally smiting himself. He can’t think about you like that. You’re his neighbour, his friend, and you’re in trouble.

He clears his throat, speaking in the hopes that he can distract himself from the sight of your cleavage and bare legs. “Okay, well, why don't we push it up to the house? We can take a look at it, see if we can get it started again. If not, at least it's not out in the road in the way.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

And so the two of you manage to push your crappy car up to the front of the house, where Mr Kent joins you to take a look at it with Clark.

“Good news is, it's totally fixable. Bad news is, you'd need a mechanic to do it. We'll call them and they can tow it from here.”

You sigh, looking at your watch. “Damn it. I'm supposed to pick up my friend from the station in Metropolis in a couple of hours.”

“Well, I can take you in our car,” Clark suggests.

“You'd do that?” You ask, and he nods, charming smile still there. You grin, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug as his arms slide around your waist. “Thank you, Clark, you're a lifesaver.”

Clark can feel as the blush begins to set in. “Yeah, of course. We can get going as soon as you're ready to.”

“I'm ready now, if that's okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

It’s not until you’re in the passenger seat and on the road that either of you speak again. “So, who’s your friend?”

“Just one of the girls from Central City. I told her she could visit once I was settled in. She’s fun, you’ll love her.”

You play with your hair, and it sends a fresh whiff of your scent in Clark’s direction. He doesn’t know if it’s perfume or shampoo, but he knows he’s already addicted. You cross one leg over the other, and fold your arms. Clark glances over, a moment of weakness that he hates himself for. It’s like he wants to punish himself. Something in him that says that if he’s going to think like this, he can go unsatisfied and hurting. It’s not logical. In fact, he knows that looking is the one indulgence he’ll allow himself. A brief glance that he won’t let linger, thoughts he’ll bury as long as possible.

“I’m sorry about your car,” he says, in an attempt to distract himself from your bare legs and accentuated cleavage.

You smile a little. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for helping.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

“No, really, Clark, thank you,” you say, turning towards him and leaning over the console in the centre, hands resting on it and pushing your breasts up and together. “You’re always there whenever I need you. You’re so good, Clark.” He’s going to explode again. “Really. I can’t thank you enough.”

Yet again, your attempts seem to have been either obliviously ignored or politely rejected, as Clark doesn’t respond to them. Granted, this was one of your more low-key comments, but he hasn’t even glanced at your tits, and they’re right there!

So you decide to double down. Test to see if he’s just oblivious, awkward, or not interested.

One of your hands lands on his thigh. He blinks, but doesn’t look at you. “You’re so helpful, Clark. Always happy to help when I need you. And I always need you. There has to be some way for me to repay you.” Your hand travels further up his thigh. In an ideal world, you’d be giving him road head right now, not halfway to it.

Clark finally looks at you, his cheeks a little flushed, and as he turns his head, his gaze lands right on your chest.

Immediately, though, a car horn sounds, and Clark’s eyes dart back onto the road in time to swerve back into his own lane. The road had been totally empty for a while now, it hadn’t even occurred to him that eventually they had to run into someone.

He blinks heavily. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You smile, eyes bright with mischief. “For the nearly dying? Or the other thing?”

“Uh, both. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You giggle. “It’s okay, Clark. Really, you’re fine. More than fine.”

Your hand is still on his upper thigh, a dangerous place. A bump in the road underneath the right front wheel jolts you, and your hand accidentally slips onto Clark’s crotch, applying pressure. His eyes go wide as saucers, a strangled noise barely escaping him before he gets a hold of his vocal cords.

“Oh!” You gasp. “I’m sorry, Clark!”

You pull your hand off, returning to your side of the car. That had slightly ruined your entire plan. It was a total accident. You hadn’t meant to straight up grab the guy. Just tease him a little. Shit.

When you get out of the car at the Metropolis station to go find your friend, Clark takes the opportunity to do some breathing exercises, and uses the cover of his jacket to his advantage, palming at himself to relieve the ache a little for now. He bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the urge to make some sort of sound. He doesn’t know what it’ll be, and he’s alone in the car, but whatever it is, it’ll be embarrassing enough even if he’s the only one to hear it. So instead he just breathes a little irregularly, head tilted back a little against the headrest.

He sees your friend with you as you approach the car again, and he tears his hand away from himself begrudgingly. Your friend has a grin on her face, eyes wide with excitement as you both talk with equal enthusiasm.

You join her in the back this time, probably for the best, but you’re still on the opposite side of the car to him, so he sees you easily in the mirror, and all he needs to do is turn his head a little and let his peripheral vision do the rest.

“Oh, you’re so right,” your friend says, and you shush her despite your giggling.

taglist;

@blueeweeb

@ssnapsaurus

@artyandink

@i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

@milestellerismybf

@purple-1995

@writergiih

@elysianrosie

@glennussy

#muse: clark #smallville clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut

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eclecticbirdmoon · 2 days ago

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Decided I’d share some info about my OCs :D

Blue for Maverick and orange for Fenwick (DND oc)

1) Lewis McCartney from H2O and not yet

2) She’s a WIP oc, Sage, but they met as neighbours and a witch that lived by the river Fenwick would visit

3) I do not remember many songs

4) I will find some eventually

5) No not yet and no

6) If she was, she’d probs be a DJ with no backup job haha

7) He would SO be a half-orc but a bard!!

8) He likes too cook, he’s plays video games but mostly, he annotates magazines and she pulls things apart for fun, mostly bikes lol

9) He’s rather healthy! He works about and eats healthy but a not quite recovering caffeine addict haha and she mostly eats fish and that’s all she needs really and unintentionally stays active but she’s not careful so she gets sick and injured quite often

10) Mostly but sometimes he gets too focused on a person and how they are rather then himself and when he gets stressed he forgets and she mostly content but struggles a lot with her memory which negatively affects her, she hasn’t gone into combat as of yet and barely uses her powers (emotion and memory harvesting and manipulation)

11) He was inspired by Curly from the game “Mouthwashing”, Shayne Topp from Smosh and a little from Top Gun: Maverick haha and she was inspired by a random Pinterest photo

12) Not yet for both

13) Nope! I would say his dad but he’s moved on from him and she does not! Yet

14) He watched Arcane and despises Finn with a passion and she does not really hate anyone

15) Yeah he will make it but I don’t know about her…

16) He loves his mum but has a light resentment towards his dad, use to hate him but decided he wasn’t worth his time and she doesn’t not remember her parents

17) He doesn’t but I’d imagine if he did, he would be pretty good and love them but would find it hard deciding what the appropriate approach to situations would be and she won’t have any kids, don’t think she’s ever considered it

18) He goes by him/him and just Maverick or any nicknames you come up with and she’s never considered that prefers to sue it/it’s but finds the concept of gender weird

19) He’s bi with a preference for women and she’s a women lover but hasn’t met anyone so she doesn’t know that yet lol

20) He’d probably grab any objects around to throw at them but he’s actually pretty strong so himself as a last resort lol and she’d use her powers but if went physical, use her talons to dig in and bat her wings lolol

21) Eventually I’m sure

22) Depends on the context and if other people are involved, he’s more lover tho and she’s fight for sure, but some weird gray area between lover and fighter

23) Yep, he doesn’t have a car yet but he might walk or try to convince his mum to give me a ride haha and no she is not oof

24) Had a guitar phase and could play a little tune or learn song with ease but it’s not a hobby anymore and no

25) Oh 100%! In the car, doing the dishes, anywhere and if he’s alone and isn’t singing something to himself, he’s probably sad lmaoo and she pretends she can resist and very good at it too

26) Both Singapore orchids but his are blue and hers are orange, which is why I picked the text colours

27) He’s a dog for sure, golden retriever and Bernese mountain dog mix and she’d be a grebe (bird), personality wise and looks

28) He’s always been welcomed to popular sporty groups but he feels most comfortable with the more unique and different groups and she’d be in the artist group and I cannot draw sadly but I plan of learning

29) A moodboard I can do! Which I will do soon :)

30) He’d be hesitant at first but he’d be nice, and eventually you’d be good friends and she’s a hard shell to crack so you will need to work for it haha, she’d run away at first

Have a great day ^^

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

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quarterlifekitty · 2 days ago

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based on this. cw: graphic violence/descriptions, fatal wounds, gross stuff.

You ask yourself, often, how Soap fell into this life. He shows up at your door with trinkets, flowers, blushes and smiles– all while he pays the same rates as everyone else for a night in your stock-standard room. He’s a member of The Flock, a cutthroat organized crime family. They run the city you live in, they own the room you live in, and their members take up a vast majority of your clientele.

And you killed their Shepard. For reasons that seem so far away, now. Some old grudge that clung to you like the glue from a peeled-off sticker. It made dirt stick to you.

For a time, you acted like everything was normal. That’s how you get away with murder, isn’t it? Life goes on– why would a whore cry over the boss of her clients? And it works. Johnny visits like clockwork, always at the end of the night if he can– hates having to get out of the bed when he’s finished. He’ll take sloppy seconds gladly, but his face sours when he has to make room for other clients.

And then that stupid little corner store comes forward. A camera they’d thought had been broken flicked on for a few nights. Enough to see you leaving the wrong place at the wrong time.

The city is an above-ground sewer. Labyrinthine, dank, and full of garbage. You run barefoot– not able to dig up your years-old tennis shoes in time when dress shoes thundered through your building by the dozen. Building to building, alleyway through alleyway, seemingly at a dead end when you’re suddenly pulled inside of a door. The suit you know so well, a half-palm glove on the hand gripping yours, a mohawk. You don’t stop running. It’s unnerving– hearing nothing but his breath when he’s never shut up for as long as you’ve known him.

After what feels like miles, you’re headed off by a woman you’ve never seen. Her scowl looks so natural you imagine her smile is downright terrifying. Soap’s face is twisted in recognition as you’re pulled behind him. He tries to back up, but as soon as he turns to run with you the other way, a bullet connects with his skull. Bad dog, bad. His last gesture points the way and you run. You can’t waste his sacrifice. Your lungs feel like they rip and tear as you heave, blood like phlegethon trickling through your system while the acid bursts at the back of your throat, fortelling bile. Johnny, he told you one night, bathed in the neon from the signs outside diffused by your curtains, tha’s my real name. His name was Johnny.

When he wakes up, there’s a starburst ready to form, fresh and pink and raw on the side of his head beneath the bandages. There’s a heaviness to his insides, a fragility to his outsides– like if he leans over far enough his belly will split open and spill lead onto the floor. He can remember a face. A woman’s face, drenched in sweat and ready to burst with tears. Nothing else. Not even his own name.

A man with a smarmy smile and a hairline scar greets him in his room as soon as he can sit himself up. He’s holding a picture– dead ringer. Feels stupid, but he has to ask who she is.

The whore that shot you, that’s who she is. Ready to go on a hunt?

Hunting. He remembers hunting. Explains what lodges in his throat and pounds inside his skull when he thinks of your face. Must be hate. Must be anger. Must be betrayal. The last being worst of all to a creature who lives on loyalty (which he’s told he is).

The city is on a complete lockdown– no way in or out. Your cheap scent should be easy to catch.

You won’t be getting away with murder a second time.

#cw blood #cw graphic violence #cw graphic #cw medical #writing #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader

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sayyestoheav3nn · 2 days ago

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Nights Like This: Part Five

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: fluff, smut, angst

Word count: 4.6k

a/n: omg i can’t believe it’s been this long since i’ve last updated this, definitely a goal to get back on my writing grind. smut is something i’m not very good at writing, so unfortunately it set me way off schedule 😭 thanks for your patience, if you would like to be tagged click here. 💕

Zoe nervously fiddled with her dress while she waited in the hallway for Roman.

Since their last interaction, she had spent over two weeks away visiting family. And within that time, they spent almost every night on the phone.

As they got to know each other better, she could feel herself growing more comfortable with him and matching his flirtatious manner. She lost count at how many times he made her flustered with just his voice.

She stared at the screen in front of her, the entirety of his promo was captivating. As Roman closed the show and exited the ring, her eyes traveled to his black T-shirt accentuating his athletic physique. The way his sleeves wrapped around his thick biceps, made her wonder what it’d be like to hold onto them while she rode him.

Just as her imagination was starting to run wild, she forced herself to snap out of it when she saw him making his way out of the gorilla.

Roman immediately spotted her and started walking in her direction, she smiled and met him halfway.

“Hey beautiful,” Roman hugged her, a small grin formed on his face when she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Hi Roman,” This was the closest she’d ever been near him physically, Zoe melted in his embrace, the smell of his cologne was subtle but rich. His big arms felt like a warm safety net.

She slowly pulled away, slightly embarrassed after realizing she definitely held onto him longer than she should've.

“You wanted to talk?” She muttered.

“Yeah… I wanted to ask when you were flying out?��

“I leave tonight, why?” Zoe noticed a slight look of disappointment in his beautiful face.

“I was hoping you could stay in town a bit… I wanna show you around.”

The fact that he was willing to use the little free time that he had on her, made her smile. “I can move my flight, I’ll just call the hotel to extend my stay.”

Roman smiled while stepping closer to her, Zoe could feel her breath hitch in her throat. “Stay with me, I don’t bite.”

“I don’t know…. I don’t want to intrude…”

Roman slowly lifted her chin, his eyes meeting hers, “Zoe, I like you. I want to spend time with you… you could never intrude.”

She chuckled, “I like you too… I’ll go with you,” she muttered.

He smiled and kissed her forehead “It’s done, then. Let’s go.”

…………..

There was no denying the chemistry between them, Roman had one hand on the steering while the other lightly squeezed her thigh. It was embarrassing how something so fucking simple, turned her on. It took every fiber of her being to not ask this man to pull over and fuck her.

“We’re close.”

Zoe stared out the window, taking in the beautiful view that surrounded her. There was a mix of vibrant palm trees and greenery surrounding the view of the beautiful ocean.

It was breathtaking to say the least. She hadn’t even noticed they were now in a secluded gated community.

Her eyes widened once Roman pulled in his driveway. His house was stunning, she’d never seen anything like it.

“Wow, Roman… it’s beautiful.”

He smiled while putting his arm across her shoulder, “C’mon let’s go inside.” Roman set their bags aside, as he guided her in his living room.

“Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks,” as Zoe stepped in the bathroom, she fixed her dress and touched up her makeup. After a few minutes, she made her way back to his living room. The sexual tension between them was the strongest it’s ever been.

Roman leaned back in the sofa, his eyes burning into hers.

“Come here,” he patted his thigh, motioning her over.

Zoe could see the lust in his eyes, causing her heart to skip a beat. She nervously walked over towards him, preceding to slowly seat herself on his thick thighs.

The feeling of her straddling him with her legs spread, made Roman’s dick hard.

Zoe was regretting her choice of not wearing a longer dress, because as she situated herself on top of him she could feel it slowly start to rise up. As she went to try and pull it down, Roman gently stopped her hand.

“Nah baby, leave it,” he whispered.

Baby. Something about the way his deep voice said it, sent a shiver down her spine.

There was no denying how much power Roman had over her, Zoe couldn’t remember the last time a man had actually given her butterflies. Yet, one word or look from Roman made her knees weak.

Her nervousness slowly dissipated when she looked down at him, those big beautiful eyes felt so soft and inviting. He was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever laid her eyes on, and for some embarrassing reason, a wave of impulsivity convinced her to voice it.

“I’m sure you hear this a lot, but you’re….you’re like really fucking handsome.”

Roman smiled while sliding some of her curls behind her ear, a faint chuckle escaping him, “Coming from the most beautiful girl, I appreciate it.”

The effect this man had on her was driving her insane. Zoe couldn’t hold back anymore, without thinking twice she smashed her lips into his.

Roman cupped her cheek with one hand, while using his other to pull her closer to him.

His lips pressed against hers felt fucking intoxicating, she felt glued to him in ways she couldn’t even begin to describe. As their kiss intensified, Roman slightly adjusted his hips, watching her reaction when his hard dick pressed against her.

“See what you do to me, baby?”

“Shit,” she moaned, Zoe could feel herself getting more soaked. And as much as feeling his bulge turned her on, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the size of it intimidated the fuck out of her.

It’s something she couldn’t dwell on too long because seconds later, Roman lifted her dress higher, proceeding to palm and squeeze her ass. The light moans she made when he started kissing and sucking on her neck, started to send him over the edge.

“If only you knew how bad I want to fuck you right now,” he whispered, while nibbling on her ear.

Zoe’s hand traveled down Roman’s body, her fingers teased the fabric of his sweatpants right above his hard dick, causing him to groan. “So fuck me then.”

“You have no idea what you're asking for baby,” he smirked. Roman picked her up and started heading towards the stairs.

“Roman I can walk, it’s okay” Zoe giggled.

He lifted her even higher, “Nah baby, I got you.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist while he carried her upstairs towards his room. Roman opened the door and gently laid her on his king sized bed, quickly taking off his shirt before climbing on top of her.

He resumed their kiss, this time sliding his tongue in her mouth, which she gladly accepted.

His fingers fiddled with the hemline of her dress, he carefully lifted it over her head. Roman pulled back for a moment taking in her body, his tongue glided across his bottom lip, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful, Zo.”

She smiled at him while wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. His warm body pressed against hers, made her never want to let go.

Roman kissed her jaw and neck, slowing making his way down to her cleavage. His tongue sucked and nibbled at her in areas he noticed made her moan the most.

He slid one hand behind her back, unclasping her bra. He proceeded to skillfully kiss and tease her hardened nipples, while his hand slowly made its way to the warm spot between her legs.

“Fuck,” her mouth fell open as Roman’s fingers grazed the fabric of her underwear. He let out a low groan when he felt her essence drenching the material, “You’re already so wet for me, baby.”

Zoe lifted her hips as Roman tugged the waistband of her underwear down, leaving her fully naked.

The sight of her wet slick folds had him wanting to fuck her then and there. “You gon’ let me taste you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, but I want you to do something for me,” she muttered.

“Anything, baby,” his voice has a hint of desperation.

Roman sat up looking at her slightly confused as she stood up from the bed, his eyes followed her every movement.

Zoe smiled and gently pushed his chest, “Lay down for me, daddy.”

Fuck. That word leaving her sexy mouth, made his dick harder than it’s ever been. He quickly scooted up the bed, laying on his backside.

A smirk formed on Roman’s face once he realized exactly what she was doing.

Zoe climbed on top of him, giving him a slow sensual kiss before seating her wet pussy on his lips.

Roman wasted absolutely no time, quickly wrapping his arms tightly around her thighs as he began to feast on her.

“Holy shit,” Zoe felt like she ascended to heaven, the exact moment Roman’s tongue made contact with her clit. She could hear him moaning under her as he explored every pleasurable nerve that was down there.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he groaned.

Had she been able to formulate words, just maybe he would have received a response. But the way Roman was devouring her, had her screaming and gripping his headboard.

“Shit Roman, you’re so…. so fucking good,” Zoe’s eyes rolled back as she bit her bottom lip.

Roman ate her out like he was fucking starving, she’d never in her life experienced anything like it. Zoe started grinding her pussy against his face, both of her hands held his the headboard, as she clung for stability.

“Just like that beautiful, ride daddy’s face.”

His words of encouragement had her grinding against him even faster, “Roman, f—fuck i’m gonna come!” She screamed.

Roman slapped her ass while pulling her even closer to him. “I know baby, come in my mouth. Let daddy taste every drop”

She was close, so fucking close. Zoe was seeing stars while his mouth worshipped her dripping cunt. The nasty things he was saying while she rode his beautiful face, was all she needed for her orgasm to take over.

Roman kept his tight hold on while she rode it out, he continued working his tongue on her till her body was squirming over him.

“Shit,” Zoe laid back panting, it was very rare for a man to make her come from oral sex, let alone that fucking fast.

“You did so good for me, baby,” Roman pulled her in for a sloppy kiss, the taste of herself on his tongue made her wet all over again.

He stood up and walked towards his nightstand, sliding open his drawer to dig for a condom. It was so hard not to stare at his toned body, her pussy fluttered seeing how low his sweatpants were hanging, her eyes gravitated to his happy trail and v-line.

Roman’s brows furrowed in confusion when he realized his drawer didn’t have any more condoms.

“Shit. Let me check my bathroom real quick.”

“Okay,” she nodded

While he stepped into his bathroom, Zoe observed his room. It was extremely spacious, practically the size of her whole damn apartment. The lighting was perfect, slightly dim but not too dark, she could see he had a balcony with ocean view.

But what really caught her eyes was his huge mirror with gold borders. Zoe chuckled to herself when she realized why he set it directly across his bed. What a fucking slut.

Roman came back empty handed, disappointment evident on his face, “Fuck. I ran out.”

Zoe was honestly just as sexually frustrated as he was.

“The nearest gas station is twenty minutes, i’ll be b—”

“You clean?” She interrupted.

He paused and chuckled, “Of course i’m clean. Always.”

“Me too… I also have an IUD,” the mischievous smile she had as she bit her bottom lip, made Roman’s dick twitch.

Roman took off his sweatpants and briefs in one swift movement. His huge veiny dick sprung free, causing Zoe’s eyes to widen. In no world had she ever seen, let alone fucked someone with a dick of his size.

“Oh, shit.”

Roman climbed back on top of Zoe, his lips immediately finding hers. She carefully freed his hair from his bun, smiling when his long strands fell freely.

He slid his hand down to her pussy, his thumb slowly teased and played with her clit. He watched as she threw her head back, moaning in pleasure.

“Fuck, Roman…please,” Zoe’s back arched as his fingers went to work.

He sped up his pace, feeling her wetness starting to soak the sheets, “Please what, baby?”

“P—Please….please fuck me.”

Roman spread her legs apart, lining his hard dick with her wet opening. “You sure?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He kissed her as he slowly pressed his thick mushroom tip inside her tight, wet hole, “Tell me if it’s too much, baby.”

“It’s fine….k-keep going,” she moaned.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” Roman grunted as he went deeper inside of her. Her pussy felt just as heavenly as he imagined.

He watched her carefully as he fully seated himself inside her, “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

Zoe silently gave him the approval to start moving. Roman started off with slow strokes, his eyes shut at how good her pussy felt.

He groaned as he picked up the pace, her pussy was like a suction for his dick.

“You feel s—so fucking good daddy,” Zoe dug her nails into Roman’s back, his face was buried deep into her neck whispering the nastiest things.

“Whose pussy is this baby?” Roman lifted her legs over his shoulders, to get a deeper reach while he fucked her.

“F—Fuck, yours baby…all yours,”

His thrusts were becoming more needy, her pussy was like a magnet. It took a lot out of him to pace himself.

“Shit, Roman… i’m gonna—”

“I know baby,” a small smirk formed on his face when Zoe reached for his hand and placed it on her throat.

He wrapped his hand around her neck, and started pounding into her even harder, he could feel her on edge. “Come for me.”

“Oh fuck!” Zoe felt as if she was on another planet as her orgasm took over, her body squirmed as Roman continued to fuck her.

“Just like that, such a fucking good girl,” he moaned.

Roman knew he didn’t have much time before he was next, he quickly turned her over on her stomach facing his mirror.

“Look at the mirror and watch how good daddy fucks you,” they both moaned in unison as he slid his big dick back into her drenched pussy. Roman grabbed her by her waist and proceeded to thrust into her.

“Oh fuck,” Zoe threw her ass back trying to match him rhythm.

“God look at you, you’re so fucking beautiful baby,” Roman pressed her back to deepen her arch, his thrusts becoming more rough and persistent. “Been jerking off to the thought of this pussy for a while now.”

That sentence shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it fucking did, she closed her eyes as his dick and words took her to new levels. Roman quickly noticed and smacked her ass, “Nah baby, keep your eyes on daddy,”

He continued to trust into her, “I want you to see how good your taking my dick.”

She watched in awe at how this man was fucking her, never in her life has any man tore her pussy up the way Roman was. She wasn’t sure how much more pleasure her body could take.

“You feel so fucking good inside of me, daddy,” Zoe could see him on the verge of coming too, this only fueled her to keep throwing her ass back at him meeting his thrust.

Roman’s eyes shut as he threw his head back. “Fuck, i’m gonna come soon, baby. Want me to pull out?”

“F—Fuck no.”

“Good,” Roman smiled and flipped her on her back again, he kissed her while thrusting inside her a few more times, his head buried in her neck as he proceeded to completely empty his load inside her. She held him and kissed his neck, as his body jerked over her.

Roman wrapped her in his arms as they laid in silence for a few minutes, still trying to catch their breath.

She spent the whole night in his arms, her back pressed against his chest as they stayed up talking about damn near everything under the sun.

Zoe smiled as she felt Roman’s dick getting hard again. She slowly pressed her ass up against him, evoking small grunt out of him. She turned around to face him, “I want you to show me.”

His brows furrowed, “Show you what?”

She bit her bottom lip while eyeing his very prominent bulge, “I want you to show me how you jerked off to me, daddy.”

Fuck.

…………………

Zoe stirred awake at the sound of her alarm blaring, her eyelids felt tired and heavy. The warmth of the sunlight, made it difficult for her to get out of bed. She grabbed her phone to look at the time, quickly realizing she had slept through her first two alarms.

Unfortunately, her days off flew by faster then she anticipated. Time wasn’t exactly on her side considering this was her last free day before going back to work.

Zoe jumped out of bed and headed straight to the shower. The sound of the hot water cascading over her, temporarily drowned out some of her thoughts, providing her with short lived comfort.

To say she felt like an emotional fucking wreck would be an understatement. The past few nights consisted of hours and hours of crying, with little to no sleep.

She hated how much Roman’s absence was affecting her. Waking up with his side of the bed empty, and going to sleep alone was something she was naive to believe she’d never experience unless it was work related.

As she stared at her reflection in the semi foggy mirror, she noticed how her exhaustion consumed her face. Her eyes were puffy and red, a darker shade appearing under them from the lack of sleep.

However, the physical exhaustion was nothing compared to how fucked up she felt mentally and emotionally.

What started out as an amazing birthday, transpired into one of the worst nights of her life. The mental image of Roman’s face buried between Serena’s legs, felt like a sharp knife in her back.

It was impossible for Zoe to fully wrap her head around the details of what happened. It’s already one thing for Roman to do what he did, but for her best fucking friend to do it, was another. Her blood boiled anytime she remembered the venomous words Serena spewed at her.

As Zoe was deep in her thoughts applying her skincare products, her phone started buzzing with what sounded like multiple text messages.

She dried her hands and reached for it, a flash of guilt taking over her as she saw who it was.

Naomi.

Zoe took a deep breath and unlocked her phone, re-reading some of the messages Naomi had left her days prior. Messages she was far too heartbroken to respond to at the moment.

Naomi: Hey Zo bug, I thought you were coming back a week ago? Is something wrong?

Naomi: It’s not like you to not text back, you’re starting to worry me Zo.

Zoe: I’m sorry that it’s taken me days to text you back, I’ve wanted to… I really have. I just feel really hurt and lost right now. The last thing I want is to drag you in between this shit.

Naomi: Wait what? Is everything okay?

Zoe: Roman didn’t tell you?

Naomi: No. That man hasn’t responded to me or Jim’s messages, his ass stays holed up in his bus, does his promos and leaves. Tell me what?

Zoe: Honestly… it’s a lot to say over the phone. Are you booked for Smackdown tomorrow?

Naomi: No not this one, but the next.

Whatever you’re going through seems pretty important Zo, is it okay if I come see you as soon as you get home?

Zoe: I would really appreciate that 🥺 I should be home by Saturday morning, I’ll text you and let you know if anything changes.

Naomi: Okay, I’ll be there. ❤️

She was confused to say the least. It’s not like Roman to keep the twins out of the loop, finding out Jimmy was clueless as to what was going on was definitely a little shocking.

Zoe got dressed along with finishing the last steps of her skincare routine. She headed downstairs, making her way straight to the kitchen.

With her goal of spending the entire day finishing up two gear orders, she knew she was going to need caffeine in her system to help her pull through. If she successfully managed to pull this off, it would leave her with a lighter schedule for the next few months.

As the coffee machine began to brew, she walked into her workplace to get started. Zoe scanned the room trying her best not to let her eyes water.

This room was full of countless memories of him.

No matter how exhausted or tired Roman was, he’d stay by her side for hours while she worked. They’d talk about any and everything, which made time go by so much faster.

This exact room is where his big arms wrapped around her as he whispered “I love you” in her ear, for the first time.

Zoe could feel so much anger growing inside of her, because nothing was making any fucking sense. She wiped away her tears, pushing back her emotions to start the task at hand. But in the back of her mind, she questioned if everything Roman ever said to her was just a lie.

Hours passed and the sun was now starting to set. She felt a wave of relief as she neatly placed the finished gear into separate boxes.

Zoe went back upstairs and started to pack a light suitcase for the weekend. She reached to grab her favorite oversized hoodie, but quickly stopped herself when she realized who’s hoodie it was.

His scent that used to be so comforting to her, now was just a hurtful memory. This house was filled with nothing but painful reminders of what was, everywhere she looked brought tears to her eyes.

Being here was only making shit ten times harder for her. Zoe pulled out her laptop and started searching for apartments in the area, she cut on the tv for background noise. And as if things couldn’t possibly get any fucking worse, the first commercial she saw was Roman being advertised for tomorrow's show.

Zoe rolled her eyes and got up from bed, walking towards his home bar. She pulled out a bottle of wine and the biggest wine glass she could find.

Because one thing she knew for certain, was that tomorrow she had a long ass day ahead of her.

……………….

The first thing Zoe spotted as her Uber pulled into the arena, was Roman’s tour bus, she took a deep breath as she stepped out of the car. She knew if she wanted this night to go by quickly, she would have to keep herself occupied.

As Zoe walked in, she was greeted by Bianca, Jade, and Michin. Other than Naomi who wasn’t here, there weren’t many girls on the Smackdown roster who she considered friends.

Many of them, made their dislike for her very fucking clear the day Roman made their relationship public. Zoe remembered how they spent months looking at her sideways, while giggling and making snarky ass comments, thinking she couldn't hear.

She completely understood Roman’s fuck buddies not liking her, but half of the bitches that snickered shit about her, weren’t ever on his roster. It definitely bothered her in the beginning, but over time she grew thicker skin. Zoe never told Roman, she knew he’d dead the shit then and there, but she didn’t need them to think she was weak.

She said bye to the girls, and walked through the endless corridors determined to go straight into the wardrobe department. Finding this room was like a damn maze, thankfully they had signs guiding her on which way to go.

Zoe let out a small sigh of relief once she found the room, and just as she twisted the door knob a familiar voice called out to her.

Daniel. He was the first friend she made when WWE hired her. They got along well and spent a lot of time on the road together. In her eyes their friendship was extremely platonic, but as time passed she began to notice how he would subtly flirt with her. Zoe was aware he was a good looking man, but for some reason she never really thought of him in that way.

She didn’t want to hurt his feelings and blatantly turn him down, so she slowly distanced herself, still wanting to salvage their friendship. But a few months later she met Roman, and once they began to date, she had a talk with Daniel setting multiple boundaries between them.

But the peace was short lived, it was no secret Daniel and Roman despised each other. In one of the events Zoe wasn’t booked for, they both had an altercation which ended in Roman being physically restrained by security and his cousins. Weeks after, Daniel was transferred to Raw and she hadn’t seen him since.

“Hey Zoe,” he grinned and went for a side hug.

“Hey. You’re back on Smackdown?”

“I’ll be here for a few months, but they’re sending me back to Raw during the draft.”

There was a weird gap of silence between them, which she attempted to fill. “So, how do you like it there?”

“Damn, we really doing awkward small talk now?” he chuckled.

“You look good though....” Daniel’s eyes traveled down her body, making her nervous. She’d normally be debating on how to draw a boundary, but her circumstances were different right now. Why should she show an ounce of respect for a man, who didn’t do the same for her?

“The fuck you doing back here?” Roman’s deep voice penetrated the quiet hallway, causing the people around them to stare.

“Roman, what are you doing—”

Roman walked past Zoe, creating a barrier between her and Daniel. “I’m not going to fucking ask you again.”

“You think I’m scared of you big dog? I’m a grown ass man, I ain’t gotta explain shit to you!” Daniel yelled.

Roman stepped even closer to him, his huge frame practically swallowed Daniel’s. Zoe had never seen Roman this angry before, let alone in a professional setting. She noticed his jaw and fist were both clenched tightly.

“I already told your bitch ass to stay the fuck away from her once, I’ll be damned if I have to say that shit again.”

Zoe lightly tugged Roman’s arm back, “Roman, please… not here.”

“You heard her, bitch!”

And that was it. In a matter of seconds, as Zoe tried to process what was happening, Roman pulled away from her and lunged at Daniel.

She was right, this was going to be a long ass night.

#roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x reader

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pensola · 1 day ago

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You know what, I'm going to do it.

Not bothering with a drawing, but I wanted to name her Ailis, a Chanter from Starkhaven. Because I like Sebastian's potential and we need more people with the accent in the game, please.

Anyway, personality: Witty, smart, yet easily spiteful. She knows she is crazy smart and is not afraid to show it off with her memory of the Chant, including the Imperial Chant and verses that were cut off. I like to imagine her being somewhat like the monk in "My Ajusshi"; someone everyone thought would get far in life and was talented and the envy of others, yet left it all to dedicate herself to the temple. I like to think her family are not religious and think she is doing this all out of spite, not knowing that she did genuinely convert to Andrastianism by her own will. She did take the chanter's vow partly to spite them whenever they visited, though.

Ailis took the vow for her own reasons, and though she shows her dedication to the Chant of Light by being a chanter, she does not think she is doing any important work for the Maker or the Chantry by doing so; she cannot have the same types of debates on faith and life like others, and she cannot lead by example since she does not think being a chanter can do that (also because she is spiteful, vengeful and proud, so she absolutely cannot lead by example).

Ailis is introduced with a speaker/caretaker that translates for chanters, but that kid dies or something. Maybe the kid was a traitor, or innocent, but anyway, it makes Ailis, for now, travel with the group (though she insists it is not for revenge).

Not sure what sort of abilities she should have; I go back and forth on whether she would be an alchemist that uses healing potions and grenades, if we use DA:tV's battle system. I also think she could be an apostate, which is another reason she is in the chantry, hiding in plain sight while also using her magic abilities to serve people like Andraste wanted. Her being in a position an apostate would not be allowed in the past is another way she would be spiteful.

I was reading a really good Hawke/Sebastian slow-burn the other day, and in it the Prince of Starkhaven has his own secret guard called the Prince's Eyes, and I sort of want to say that Ailis is somewhat involved with some version of them? Especially since Sebastian becomes the Prince of Starkhaven by DA:I any way. But it might be too close to Leliana, a Chantry-involved woman who has a past as a secret agent. Otherwise, perhaps her personal story could be linked to the verses that says the Chant must be sung from all corners of the world, IF there is a deeper connection than the Chant being imperialistic propaganda.

The chanters we meet in the games are preachers standing by a questboard, so we do not really see them as anything by preachers. Ailis, and other chanters probably, is still young and has other duties, and will laugh, snort and sigh in conversations, and I want her to have a "(drained sigh)" or the like from the needling of the other companions. It would be important to get across that when Ailis says the Chant, she doesn't preach, it is her trying to speak her mind with the limitations she has set upon herself, because I know that players, probably myself also, will find her annoying if there is a certain tone in a scene, then suddenly she gives commentary where quoting the Chant is innapropriate even if what she wants to say is "feels bad, bro".

Her VA would have to be able to communicate feelings despite speaking only in bible quotes, because even though she always says the Chant, sometimes she says it in angry rebuke, or delighted, or laughing through it. Sometimes she is panicked, and the animation will show her notice something and basically search her brain for the right way to communicate what she said. Again, important to get across that she is just a regular young person who happens to challenge her vocabulary, and not a fanatical preacher, even if she will definetely be misunderstood to be one by other NPCs and players.

Party banter at the beginning is mostly other companions trying to make her say something other than the Chant, or to test her ability to communicate with only the Chant. Those that are more antagonistic against the Chantry will try to antagonize her, insult her or the Maker, sometimes because they know she cannot really fight back in a meaningful way (speaking only the Chant severily limits the ability to have deep debate, and even if she manages, they will just say that she has no mind of her own). Over time, as they all get to know each other, communication gets easier and they make their own inside jokes.

She gives approval when someone is being clever, twisting words or being a rules-lawyer, which comes from her own time as a chanter having to analyze the Chant's lines in order to find ones that fit in situations, and being a prideful yet spiteful person that likes to show off. Tiny approvals when choosing the right interpretations of her quotations; not enough to be a dealbreaker for romance (if there is one). She also approves when the player defends her when others misinterpret her, or when the player helps "translate" her chants to people that either don't know what a chanter is, or struggle to understand.

She disapproves of purposeful disrespect of religion; if a non-believer states that they don't believe as a matter of fact, she says nothing, but non-believers that purposefully insult others' beliefs will get her disapproval, even more so when it is the Chantry. She also disapproves of complicated questions meant to make it harder for her to answer with the Chant of Light, in which she will give a warning and a second chance for the player to choose a different question, complain or go harder.

There would, ideally, be four variants of her character development: Unhardened chanter, hardened chanter, unhardened vowbreaker and hardened vowbreaker.

In the Vowbreaker developments, she will have broken her vow somehow, and will from then on speak normally.

And, just because it would be funny, she is joined by other companions, one who is a believer of Tevinter's Old Gods (they believe that the gods have been cleansed and have returned to a new, better state or something), another is either one of the Disciples from Awakening in full plague doctor attire or a member of the resurrected Empty Ones cult that are trying to bring back the Blights. Of course we have one or two Dalish in tow, one who would have happily joined Elgar'nan to end the world and another who is like "yo, what's the point of it all when the gods were evil?" or something.

What would be the MSQ that brings them together? Beats me, it would just be funny.

is this anything.

#da critical #da:v critical #the chantry #I don't even feel strongly about the Chantry I just like its place in the DA world just like everything else #and I keep thinking how the life of a chanter must be if they can NEVER speak outside of the Chant

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anthurak · 2 days ago

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Having been rewatching some of Ice Queendom lately, I’d like to talk about something I really wanted to discuss after the series wrapped, but haven’t gotten around to until now.

Namely, the shows use of Jaune, and specifically how it’s one of my biggest issues with the anime.

Now talking about this is somewhat complicated because I don’t have any issues with how Ice Queendom presents and writes Jaune directly. In fact I was actually pretty IMPRESSED watching the show at the frankly keen understanding the writers seemed to have of Jaune’s character and what he’s meant to represent.

Namely, that Jaune is a massive subversion of so many classic male fantasy-hero protagonists. He’s NOT some cool, badass fighter and whenever he tries to be one, he gets his ass handed to him. Instead, he’s able to show his real strength by supporting and helping others.

And there’s a bunch of great subtle details like how Jaune’s dream weapon being this flashy, oversized sword that he just cannot fucking use not matter how hard he tries is just the PERFECT metaphor for his character in the early volumes. A weapon that represents all the ‘big strong hero guy’ expectations Jaune believed he had to live up to at the beginning of the show but is actually IMPOSSIBLE for him to use because that’s NOT what he’s really meant for. And the one time he IS able to wield that sword is though the assistance and support of his friends, namely (dream)Pyrrha, which in turn provides a great hint towards his still-dormant semblance.

Instead, the real issue I have is that every time I look back on Ice Queendom and see Jaune, I can’t help but ask myself ‘Why is Jaune even here?’ Specifically, WHY does the story need Jaune to be Team RWBY’s ‘guest party member’ to go into Weiss’s dream to rescue her from the Nightmare?

Now sure, they bring up the idea that Jaune having just been possessed by a Nightmare basically ‘inoculated’ him to the Grimm and could allow him to be undetected by the Nightmare possessing Weiss. But let’s be real; that’s a justification, NOT a true narrative REASON for Jaune to be going into Weiss’s Nightmare.

Because what actual connection does Jaune even HAVE to Weiss that would give him a thematic reason to be going into her Nightmare? He’s not on her team and they only even met a few weeks ago. Especially given that IQ even removes almost all references to Jaune having any kind of big crush on Weiss. During Ruby’s first visit to the nightmare, we see what Weiss thinks of him:

Lumped in with Nora, Ren, Cardin and literally everyone else she doesn’t have time or patience for.

So what’s the actual narrative potential of Jaune joining Ruby, Blake and Yang to save Weiss? How can he tie into the story of Weiss’s character and Ruby’s, Blake’s and Yang’s attempts to free her?

Simply put, he can’t. And so he DOESN’T. Instead it feels like the only reason Jaune is here is simply because he’s the most prominent supporting character in the franchise.

And the REASON this sticks out to me so much is that I can’t help but think that a different character would have made a far, far BETTER option to join Ruby, Blake and Yang to save Weiss:

PYRRHA.

I mean, the reasons for Pyrrha going into the Nightmare to help Weiss kinda write themselves, right? From minute one it’s clear the Weiss idolizes Pyrrha, and it’s really all but outright stated she has a huge crush on Pyrrha. It’s only natural that Ruby, Blake and Yang would go to her for help getting past Weiss’s emotional defenses in the dream.

Like I think it’s easy to imagine how Ruby might happen upon this idea: In her first entry into Weiss’s Nightmare, Ruby could note that Jaune, Ren and Nora are all in ‘Silly Jail’, but Pyrrha notably ISN’T. And later while scouting or perhaps while fleeing from Weiss, perhaps Ruby catches a glimpse, far off, of Pyrrha within the walls of Weiss’s castle, perhaps looking out a window.

And when Ruby mentions this to the others, Shion could comment that this means that Pyrrha is special to Weiss, and thus keeps her memory ‘close’ to her. At this point we’d probably get Yang chiming in with a quip about how Weiss ‘Hasn’t exactly been subtle about that.’

Then of course, one of Ruby, Blake or Yang hit on the idea that if they brought Pyrrha into the nightmare, she might be able to get past Weiss’s defenses much more easily. Something which Shion confirms to be very likely. From there, RBY seek out Pyrrha for her help much like what happened with Jaune. But with the difference being that Pyrrha being some kind of ‘secret weapon’ feels FAR more natural based on what we already saw in the show up to that point.

And from that point on, I feel like it’s kind of obvious just how well Pyrrha would fit into the narrative and both Weiss’s and Ruby’s character arcs. Like I joked about a ‘White Rose/Schneekos Love Triangle’ while the show was airing, but that’s kind of exactly what we see potentially set up in the first three episodes of IQ:

Weiss is clearly massively enamored with and idolizes Pyrrha, while Ruby really wants Weiss to like her and be friends with her.

And placing Pyrrha into the nightmare as a major figure alongside Ruby, Blake and Yang for Weiss gives the perfect opportunities to play Pyrrha and Ruby off of Weiss. Exploring what Weiss being so enamored with Pyrrha actually means to her, what that could mean for her feelings about Ruby, and how Ruby and Pyrrha could get her to confront those feelings.

Imagine the story making a point about Weiss having essentially put Pyrrha up on the constructed, idealized pedestal instead of knowing the actual Pyrrha, and then contrasting this by showing that Ruby actually embodies so many of the traits Weiss idolizes Pyrrha for.

Which in turn has Pyrrha being the one to help Weiss realize that.

Not to mention on the flipside, this change would give us a lot of Pyrrha and Ruby interaction. Which I think we can all agree would be VERY fun and interesting.

I mean just picture Ruby really wanting Pyrrha’s help to save Weiss, while also clearly repressing a fair bit of insecurity and maybe even a bit of jealousy over how enamored Weiss is with Pyrrha, which in turn leads to a meaningful and cute conversation where Pyrrha gives Ruby a much-needed pep-talk while also diving into Pyrrha’s own well-hidden insecurities and generally revealing just how similar these two really are.

Which in turn perfectly plays into Ruby’s journey to save Weiss across Ice Queendom.

Finally, there is a more subtle, but perhaps most meaningful reason why I think Pyrrha would have made a much better option over Jaune:

For as well as Ice Queendom writes him, we really don’t learn anything new about Jaune that we didn’t already know. The fact is, we know Jaune pretty well after the (at the time of IQ’s release) eight volumes he’s had in the show.

So what if instead of a character we’ve already spent all this time with, what if Ice Queendom focused on a character we only had three volumes to get to know?

A character who, unlike Jaune, Nora, Ren or basically any of the other supporting characters at this time in the story, is no longer around to get focus or development.

Simply put, Pyrrha being the member of Team JNPR to get the most focus in Ice Queendom would have been a chance to explore and develop a character who we simply DON’T have opportunity to do so in the series proper.

#rwby #rwby ice queendom #Weiss Schnee #Ruby Rose #Pyrrha Nikos #jaune arc #rwby ice queendom au #a long overdue analysis of my biggest issue with IQ

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shukraastro · 3 days ago

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Direction of your spouse

With this technique you can find out from which direction your future spouse will come from. This means in which direction they are located/living as compared to where you are living.

For this method you look which planet rules over your 7th house in your D1 chart and you can also include your Darakaraka in this technique, I have seen that it work as well.

Your 7th lord planet and your Darakaraka planet will tell you the direction of your spouse. Each planet stands for a specific direction. And you basically find the mutual point of those directions or the mutual direction of which these two planets tell you. I hope you know what I mean by that.

Do not include Venus and Jupiter as traditional wife and husband planets because that would mean for everyone that their wife or husband comes from the same direction as everyone else's wife/husband. Only take Venus or Jupiter if they are your actual D1 7th lord or Darakaraka.

With your 7th lord and Darakaraka if you end up getting all directions or completely opposing directions in the end, because some planets give mid-directions, it will be either one or the other of those planets that will be significant (that's the tricky part there). You also look at the house number where your 7th lord and Darakaraka is placed in.

The 1st, 4th, 7th and 10th house indicate that you will/need to initiate some sort of movement to meet your spouse, like when you go to another city for work or family/friends trips, visiting relatives in a different city or whatever the circumstances are.

The 2nd, 5th, 8th and 11th house indicate that your spouse is fixed to your location, so they will be local to you, from the same place as you live and you could basically bump into them randomly at a bank/school/restaurant/cinema/club/social meetings and such.

The 3rd, 6th, 9th and 12th house indicate that you have to travel (truly travel) to foreign places in order to find your spouse, crossing boundaries of land, seas and even borders. The 3rd and 6th houses typically indicates short-distance travel, while the 9th and 12th houses indicate long-distance travel, journeys to faraway places involving cultural/religious and geographical differences.

In most cases you will end up getting two different houses, one where the 7th lord is placed and one where the Darakaraka is placed. This means that universe will offer you two different possibilities for meeting your future spouse, you will have choices and free will. It can be either in the ways of one house or the other house.

Now the directions of each planets:

Sun is East

Moon is North-West

Mercury is North

Venus is South-East

Mars is South

Jupiter is North-East

Saturn is West

Let me give an example:

Someone I did a reading on had this alignment. She had her 7th house in Cancer, so Moon was her 7th lord and it was in her 4th house. She went with her family to visit their relatives who live 2 hours away from her city and her husband was also a guest there and she met him through them on that day. She was traveling to the North-West direction compared to her local place. And her husband was from the same city as her relatives, who were living 2 hours away from her. The husband was a work colleague of the relatives son. So she was the one who initiated movement and it happened with her family and through the connections of her family.

Let's do a predictive example:

Before I get hundreds of requests on him let's take Jungkook straight forward. His 7th Lord is Mercury and his Darakaraka is Moon. Mercury is North and Moon is North-West that combined makes North-West. Both planets are placed in his 9th house. So he will have to travel to culturally/religiously/geographically foreign places and cross borders in order to meet his future spouse. And compared to his current location he has to travel to the North-West direction.

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

I hope this was helpful, I hope I could explain it in an understandable way.

Thanks for reading. 🌺

#sidereal astrology #vedic astrology #astro notes #astro observations #future spouse #darakaraka #navamsa

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mydearviserra · 2 days ago

Text

Daughter of mine

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Alicent Hightower X Daughter reader]

Part two

Note: no nsfw, mother/daughter platonic relationship!! Reader husband is aemond

Summary: the guilt was eating at her faster then she thought, the guilt of being a horrible mother. One day she took it upon herselfto visit you. Once she entered your room she saw how tried you were with the newborn. Once helping you out for you to sleep she came to the realization of wanting to change, she needed to be there for you, to slowly make amends once and for all for you and her other children. But now another obstacle was made to block that from happening

One day as evening slowly took over King’s Landing, Alicent came to your chambers. It was rare occurrence, to be completely honest. She could count times when she came to check on you on her fingers. She slowly and quietly entered the room, the faint sounds of a baby crying filled the room, she saw you sitting on the edge of your bed, your white curls draped down your shoulders as you wore a silk robe to cover your nightgown. The baby letting out quite sobs as you bounce him tiredly in your arms, with a almost defeated sigh alicent began

“Child..”

Her voice was calm and soft, yet there was a visible tiredness in her face and eyes. She raised her head, looking at you in the dim light.

“Must I call a..wet nurse for you-“ she began before i quickly stopped her

“No..I think i can handle him”

You muttered as you held the small baby close to you, gently rocking him and humming a comforting melody trying to get him to calm down.

Alicent watched you for a bit, your soft features so different from hers. You were gentle and caring, even after a long day looking after your son you still were trying to calm him.

Alicent let out another breath and slowly stepped closer to you, sitting gently on the bed, leaving distance between the two of you.

She looked at your tired expression, seeing how worn out you were from sleepless nights taking care of the baby. She felt a pang of guilt, seeing how you looked so exhausted.

“You look tired..” she said softly, the distance between you and her feeling even bigger even with her sitting close to you.

It was almost as if she didn’t dare to come closer, as if she wasn’t sure if she could or if she allowed to.

“It was a long day..” you responded softly while rocking the baby, he was calming a little now yet still letting out a quiet whine every now and then.

Alicent’s gaze lingered on the baby for a moment before going back to you, her expression unreadable.

You noticed how she was looking at the infant, a mixture of emotions in her eyes.

“You..need to get some rest” she said, her tone of voice soft yet commanding.

“I..I know..I just..”

Your mind was too tired to even think properly, the constant fatigue has taken a toll on you.

“It’s just..not easy..to fall asleep” you muttered, the baby in your arms was more calm now as he began to doze off.

Alicent watched you as you talked, something in her expression shifting though she didn’t comment on it. She was looking at you, studying your face, the tired lines under your eyes, the way you cradled the baby in your arms..

Alicent was silent for a moment, her eyes lingering on you and the baby and a thought came to her mind.

She wanted to say something but held herself.

Alicent was your mother after all, yet it didn’t look like it, as she sat there not doing anything apart from studying you, her arms and legs crossed, her own child exhausted and she doing nothing. And it took her even more time to finally make a decision.

She slowly extended her arms, leaning towards you.

“May I?”

You froze a bit surprised, but before you could question her you just nodded and gently handed the baby to her.

Alicent took the infant in her arms carefully and held him close, the small baby let out a soft sigh of comfort, her fingers gently caressing his soft cheeks.

“You can lie down, I’ll watch him for a while” she said softly, her attention fixed on the baby in her arms, her voice now taking a tender tone.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should. You were so tired, yet the thought of getting a break, even if just for a little while, was too tempting to refuse.

You gave a slow nod and softly laid yourself down, once the blankets covered your body a scene of warmth cover your body it brought a piece of mind to know your son was asleep and taken care of. After a few moments of watching him sleep soundly in alicent arms you began to slowly closing your eyes, the exhaustion of the long day finally taking over.

Alicent gently rocking the baby back and forth to keep him calm. She looked at your sleeping face, seeing how peaceful you looked and suddenly there was a pang of guilt in her heart. She couldn’t remember the last time she took a look that closely to you and now that she did she took in every feature of you. She noticed how beautiful you were, your soft skin and delicate facial features. Then another thought came to her mind, you were so fragile looking, so gentle..

She felt an urge to reach out and touch you, to let her fingers gently brush away the hair from your face, but she caught herself and stopped.

Alicent didn’t move a muscle, her gaze fixed on you as you slept. She felt her insides tighten, seeing you there, so vulnerable, so helpless and yet so strong at the same time. You looked like a small child, so innocent and delicate..

It was as if she was looking at her younger self and she realized suddenly how alike you were. Just like the rest of her children having Targeryen features, white hair and purple eyes she saw the difference in you. You had her delicate eyes and thick curls, you were almost exact copy of Alicent in her youth.

Alicent tried to shake off the feeling of guilt that was welling up inside of her. She couldn’t show weakness and vulnerability, not now, not with everything happening and yet she couldn’t take her eyes off you. As she watched you sleep, a long forgotten memory began to stir in her mind, a memory of her in your place years ago.

She remembered her own motherless nights spent in her loneliness, not having anyone to turn to, to reach out to, to talk to. She knew what it felt like to be alone and in a loveless marriage, she knew what it felt like to have a husband not even grace at your child, but now she didn’t want you to go through further pain

She looked at you, your delicate frame curled up on the bed, your face now relaxed and peaceful, and a sudden rush of protectiveness came over her. She knew that she had failed you as a mother, but now she wanted to at least try and be there for you, to be what her own mother couldn’t do. Only recently alicent began seeking out to Helaena again, simply sitting with her as she mumbles her stories or help with Helaena children. She needed to be there for her gentle daughters, she failed them once. She couldn’t keep failing them now when they needed alicent the most.

She watched you sleep, seeing the vulnerability and strength that coexisted within you.

She continued to brush your hair gently, the motion soothing both the baby and her as she was deep in thoughts.

Alicent stayed there for a little longer, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to leave you, to go back to her duty.

She wanted to stay with you, to hold you close, to protect you from the cruel world around you. Alicent sat on the edge of the bed, the baby now asleep in her arms, as she continued to brush your hair. It was as if she couldn’t let go of you, as if she was afraid that if she left you alone for a moment, something would change, and you would slip through her fingers.

*the door creaking as it began to open, even at this hour it was almost pushed without a care in the world, it didn’t matter if the sound would disturb you. Once the door swung open aemond stood like a deer in headlights at the door away. His grip on the handle tightened as he saw Alicent holding his child. Much worse to see you sleeping so peacefully*

“Mother what are you doing here?” He spoke with irritation as his eye almost pointed daggers at alicent

Alicent’s attention instantly snapped from you to Aemond as the door opened. The irritation in his voice was palpable, but she took a deep breath to calm herself.

“It’s late, son,” she replied, holding the baby in her arms protectively. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Her gaze shifted back to you, still asleep, and then back to him. There was a tension in the air that she could sense, and she knew his displeasure was directed at her presence in your chambers.

Aemond’s gaze darkened as he took a few steps forward, his gaze narrowing as he took in the scene before him.

“And what are you doing holding my child?” He asked, his voice harsh and cold.

Alicent stayed calm, her expression not betraying any of her inner turmoil, she didn’t budge from the bed.

“I came to check on them,” she said simply, rocking the baby gently in her arms, her eyes never leaving Aemond’s gaze.

Aemond’s lips curled into a sneer, his one eye filled with suspicion and anger.

“I find it strange that you suddenly ‘care’ about their well-being after neglecting them- me for so long,” he retorted, his words laced with bitterness.

His gaze darted between the child in Alicent’s arms and you sleeping on the bed, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of you so vulnerable.

Alicent’s expression hardened at his words, but she kept her voice even, her eyes locked with his. She couldn’t deny the truth in his accusation, but she was not ready to admit it so easily.

“I have my duties, Aemond,” she said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. “I have been busy with the council-“

Aemond interrupted her, his lips curled in a snarl.

“Duty should come with responsibility,” he shot back, his words cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

Alicent’s jaw tightened, her fingers clenching the fabric of her dress as she inhaled deeply, trying to maintain control.

“And I’ve been fulfilling my responsibilities,” she retorted, her voice steady despite the churning emotions within her.

Aemond let out a scoff, his expression darkening even further as he took another step closer to her, his gaze fixed on the child in her arms.

“Have you?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, his tone a silent challenge. “Because what I see is a woman who has forgotten her own family in favor of duty.”

Alicent’s heart ached at his words, the truth in them hurting more than she cared to admit.

She couldn’t deny it, she had allowed her duties to consume her life, leaving little room for anything else, including her own children.

“It’s not that simple,” she replied weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's gaze bore into hers, his eye cold and unforgiving, his tone filled with a hint of anger.

"Isn't it?" he said, his words almost a challenge.

Alicent looked away, unable to meet his gaze, her own eyes filled with guilt and remorse. She knew he had every right to be angry with her, to blame her for her neglect, but she didn’t know how to even begin to fix it.

Aemond’s voice snapped her back to reality again, his tone almost mocking as he spoke.

“You’ve always preferred to play the role of a queen than a mother,”

His words stung, a harsh reminder of her failures as a mother.

Alicent flinched, her heart clenching at the truth in his words. She had indeed spent more time focusing on her duties than on her children, on her family.

“I…I didn’t have a choice,” she protested weakly, her voice barely audible.

Aemond let out a bitter laugh, his expression mocking as he took another step closer to her, his gaze cold and hard.

“We all have choices, mother,” he said, his words like a dagger. “You just chose the easy way.”

Alicent wanted to argue, to defend herself, but the words stayed stuck in her throat. She knew he was right, she had chosen the duty over being mother, over her children, over you

She glanced at you again, your sleeping figure, and a wave of guilt washed over her once more.

Aemond’s gaze followed hers and he let out a mocking scoff, his tone low and harsh.

“And to think you used to judge father for being an absentee parent..,”

Alicent’s eyes snapped back to his, a flash of anger in them at the mention of Viserys.

“Don’t,” she said sharply, her tone warning. “This is different-”

Aemond cut her off again, his expression even more mocking, his words cutting through her like a knife.

“Different how?” he asked, his tone almost cruel now. “Because you’re a woman? Because you claim to be righteous? But in the end you’re just like him, you care more about power and duty than your own family.”

Alicent’s heart ached at his words, knowing deep down that they were true. She had become consumed by her duties, just like Viserys before her.

“I…I had my reasons,” she muttered weakly, her voice trembling as she desperately tried to justify herself.

Aemond let out a scoff, his eyes narrowing at her, his tone almost sneering now.

“Reasons, excuses,” he said, his words a sharp and biting. “You can’t hide your hypocrisy, mother.”

Alicent’s shoulders slumped, her head bowing as a wave of shame washed over her. She knew she had been a hypocrite, judging Viserys while being just as guilty of neglecting her children. you, her fierce daughter.

Aemond’s gaze softened a bit as he took in her expression, but the anger in his tone was still there, just like the hurt in his one eye.

“You’ve always put your duty above your family,” he said, his voice softening, but not losing its harsh edge. “It’s time to pay the price.”

you began to mumble in your sleep, your brows scrunched uncomfortably as you began to wake up. Your eyes fluttered open once you eyes adjusted to the dim light you saw aemond once you saw your husband you began to sat up pushing the blanket slightly away. You didn’t met his gaze though from the way he was speaking earlier you didn’t want for him to start arguing with her

“M..mother I could place him in his crib now..thank you for watching him” your voice soft as you showed her kind smile to her, you held out her arms for her son

Alicent was snapped out of her thoughts as you wake up, your voice soft and kind. She nodded, her expression a mixture of guilt and affection as she gently placed the baby in your outstretched arms, her fingers lingering on his small form for a moment before letting go.

Her gaze shifted to Aemond, whose expression was still cold and guarded, his eye fixed on the baby in your arms.

She took a deep breath, her heart heavy with unspoken words, with apologies she could not voice.

Aemond’s gaze followed your every move, his expression hard and unreadable as he watched you cradle the baby in your arms. He could see the love in your eyes as you looked at the child, and it made his heart ache for the family he has missed to spend time with.

His gaze shifted back to Alicent, his expression still cold.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, mother,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Thank you..again mother..I..I shall come to you in the morning for a walk around the gardens” you kissed alicent cheek before pulling further of the blanket for you off the bed, your footsteps quietly echoed the chambers as you place the baby in his cradle, once tucking him in you turn to alicent “good night mother”

Alicent’s gaze softened as you kissed her cheek, her heart filled with a mix of guilty and affection at the simple gesture. She tried to hold your gaze, hoping to speak further, but she knew it was not the time.

She nodded, forcing a small smile on her lips.

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” she murmuring, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond, who was brooding in silence, watched the scene with a stoic expression, his eye fixed on you and the baby.

Aemond didn't say anything as you placed the baby in his crib, his gaze flickering from you to the child. He could see the tenderness in your every move, the love you had for your child, and it only made his heart ache more.

As you bid goodnight to Alicent, Aemond finally spoke up, his tone sharp and cold.

“Don’t bother coming tomorrow.”

Alicent's heart skipped a beat at his words, her gaze snapping to him in surprise and worry. She knew that Aemond's anger was understandable, but the thought of him not allowing you to approach them, to see her grandchild, was heartbreaking.

“Aemond,” she began, her voice a mixture of sternness and pleading, but Aemond's gaze hardened as he held up a hand to stop her.

“Save your words, mother,” he said, his tone firm and not open for argument. "You've done enough."

Alicent fell silent, her heart heavy with guilt and regret, knowing that she has no right to argue with him. She knew she had brought this upon herself, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for you and the baby.

Aemond turned his gaze back to you, his eye narrowing as he watched you tuck the baby into the cradle.

You bite your tongue as you glared at Aemond,taking sharp breath trying to calm yourself before you say something you regret. Letting go of the crib you walked towards alicent, keeping a smile as you held a hand for her to help her towards the door once she stepped into the hallway you whispered with a sneaky smirk

“He’s just grumpy ..I shall see you tomorrow mother”

Alicent’s heart ached at your whispered words, a small smile forming on her lips despite the situation. She knew Aemond was angry, but the thought of you not being able to visit her tomorrow was heart-wrenching.

She nodded, her grip on your hand tightening slightly as she returned your smile.

"I understand," she murmured softly, her voice low enough for only you to hear. "Be patient with him, alright?"

Alicent was about to turn and leave when suddenly Aemond's voice rang through the hallway, the sharpness in his words cutting through the air.

“Stay away from her, mother.”

Alicent froze in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat at the unexpected command. She looked back at Aemond, her expression a mix of surprise and hurt, but Aemond's expression was unyielding.

"You are to have no contact with her for the time being. You have caused enough damage," he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Alicent's heart sank at his words, a wave of pain washing over her. She knew she had made mistakes, that she had failed as a mother, but the thought of being completely cut off from you, from her grandchild, was a dagger to her heart.

She felt the sting of tears pricking at her eyes, but she held them back, her expression hardening.

“Aemond, please-“ she began, her voice cracking with desperation.

Aemond's expression remained cold and hard as he cut her off, his gaze unyielding.

"Do not plead," he said, his tone harsh as he fixed her with a steely gaze. "You had your chance, mother. You chose your duty over your family. Now you must face the consequences of your actions." His heavy steps rushed beside you as he yanked you away from the door. With a final glare to alicent he slammed the door, it was hard enough for the whole red keep to hear

Alicent stood in the hall, her heart heavy with guilt and despair. She could still hear Aemond's words echoing in her head, his harsh tone leaving her feeling cold and alone. She knew she had messed up, that she had caused Aemond pain and anger..but the thought of being completely cut off from you, from her family, was unbearable.

As Aemond's footsteps faded in the distance, Alicent closed her eyes as she leaned against the cold stone wall, her shoulder slumped, a small tear ran down her face..

Oh my sweet girl..

AHH I’m so happy with how this turn out! How did you like it?! Part 2?

Request are open for bots or stories💗 ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

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currentfandomkick · 2 days ago

Text

… well you get a sequel i guess

Danny waited for Duke to tell the others. Or for Alfred to for another week… if they told them, no one mentioned it.

The zombie curse on the others must have lifted or something by the beginning of his third week.

Duke kept checking in on Danny, both as a meta, psuedo cousin and fellow ‘normal hours’ cool older cousin.

Jazz was happy he made a friend. He thinks(?)

Post-zombie time everyone was moving to spend time with him, weirdly enough.

Dick and Damian dragged him to a zoo and Damian formally let him meet his menagerie of pets… including a dragonbat Danny was fairly certain was endangered at the very least.

Bruce showed him the Gray Ghost series. Danny wasn’t sure how to explain his parents used it to teach him ways to debunk people mimicking ghosts for Whatever ReasonTM and it was basically their version of Scooby doo at home.

Cass does ballet apparently and kept initiating dance parties with him between gentle spars and her raising an eyebrow at how he fights.

Duke is by and far his favorite.

Tim had taken to checking up on Danny and bringing him to the observatory in Gotham. One of Tim’s friends, Stephanie, decided to crash it.

When they got jumped on the way back Danny scoffed as the guy stabbed him (rude) and forgot his filter post-obsession adjacent binge.

“When my blood eats your knife, you cant say shit.”

The guy tried to pull out the knife. His blood just left the handle and was working on that too apparently. Dude got one hell of a cheap penknife.

Tim and Steph kept trying to get him to go to the hospital.

“Can’t. Blood eats their shit. Got the stuff for it in my room.”

Stephanie did stare as his jacket putting pressure on the abdomen injury began dissolving too.

Tim drove like the madman he is to get them back.

Stephanie, nursing student, helped with pressure by adding Tim’s coat to his blood’s feast.

“So, meta?”

In his defense, he forgot what that word meant while bleeding out a little.

Danny called Duke while in the car.

duke had something going on in the background.

“Little busy casper, what’s up?”

“Whazza meta ‘gain?”

“Injured?”

“We got him Duke. Stabbed in abdomen.”

“Good—not good good, but like, slow bleed good. Your purifier good to go?”

“Soup when i get in. Fishing to stich.”

“Yes, take your ecto—needed for his body to work—and oh shit, call you back later! A should have it covered!”

“Duke!”

They drove a bit faster home, calling Alfred and getting a sigh in response. “Please be mindful Master Danny hasn’t informed his parents yet. And this is to his discretion,” Alfred stressed while readying the fishing line for stitches.

One patch job later, and he had Tim and Stephanie asking a million questions about his abilities (Alfred shooed then away while he drank his ectoplasm like a good patient) and took a nap.

Duke made himself at home in his room by the time he woke up.

“Hey man, feeling better?”

“Sleeby, wha’, wha’ timeizit?”

“After dinner, others are doing the usual nonsense. Want to talk about the observatory for a bit?”

His core hummed and he was deep into the glory that is Oppy and his plan to ask one of his ‘technically not-from-this-dimesion’ friends to help him get there once he knew how to fix her up and make sure if another storm hits that she can self-clean her solar panels.

Duke nodded along, asking questions here and there.

“So, this friend is one of the ghosts you know?”

“Yep! Different base universe but everything’s tossed together like a Minnesota salad in the IR.”

Duke hummed at that. “And you feel safe going in ti visit?”

“Eh? I know the risks. Don’t open doors that you are not invited in to, if you see Walker you must kick his ass or he will ensure shitty laws are passed at everyone’s expense as he’s ass, and like, don’t go in to trade without having things to trade. Oh, and fight good to survive.”

Duke nodded slower. “Fair enough man. Feel up to eating solids, or sticking with liquids?”

“…if in smoothie form i can eat it.”

“White boy.”

“Blame the sentient food thing.”

“Blame the, the what!”

Danny frowned “Bruce is relate to my dad, does his food not also revive snd demand your death?”

“No, no his does not.”

“Oh. I figured that’s why Alfred doesn’t let him in his kitchen.”

“That’s more pan protection.”

“Ah.”

“Circling back to that, your food comes to life?”

“Mostly the hotdogs. Cross contamination thing. Usually they’re good about it but that stupid hotdog drawer and toying with power sources means somethings things gain sentience, and how to enforce their way.”

“… not my place but is now. You mind if i have B’s health inspectors make them take a course on lab safety and do checks now and then?”

“If they can get past the Fenton Defenses, be my guest.”

“Great, excellent. Texting Alfred now about the smoothie thing—and he’s checking the stab wound too. Which reminds me, how do your powers work?”

“No clue. I have ghost abilities but keep getting new ones after see them in action.”

“You sure mimicry or adaption isn’t the base and the rest is just how it spits out?”

“Like, 80% sure. Ghost doc said my core is all ice with some electric elements. Neither elemental core is prone to mimicry—that’s a Life Core and its variations thing. And water cores, but those can be unstable.”

“Cool, got it. So just a power makin’ weirdo too?”

“Yep. Need to get a shirt for the club.”

“Powers Be Here?”

“Powers, Picture a bumblebee, here.”

“Got it. I’ll see if we can get Dami in on the design, he’s good at arts thing.”

“You sure? I can handle the design once i can sit up.”

“You’re good.”

—

Legit thought i posted this ages ago, my bad.

The Nappers

Dpxdc Prompt #10

Danny was really excited to spend the summer with his second cousin(?) he didn't really remember, but apparently Jack Fenton's cousin was Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, a serial adopter.

Jazz had discovered the connection and gave him a call to see if he'd mind Danny staying over for summer because Danny decided he was going to tell his parents at the end of summer about his ghost problem, and Jazz wanted him to have a safety net.

He didn't really have a big family at home, with his parents being largely... absent and Jazz moving to Gotham for college. It would be great to be in a house that wasn't empty again.

Now if only his newly discovered family could stay awake long enough for Danny to talk to them.

"So how's living with our cousins?" Jazz asked him through his Fenton-phone. He flopped onto his bed and groaned.

"They're all seem nice but I haven't really seen enough of them to know yet."

"Danny, you've already been there a week, shouldn't you know them at least a little bit? You usually warm up to people quickly, as long as they aren't trying to kill you."

"Man I kinda wish they were out to get me, then I'd probably see more of them than I have already."

"..."

"Okay Danny walk me through our family, and what you know so far about them."

"Well first there's Dick, he apparently lives in Bludhaven and supposedly comes back to Gotham to visit fairly often, haven't seen any of him yet though."

"Then there's Jason, I've seen him come over after dinner a couple of times, but he's seemed in a really bad mood and I'm getting weird vibes from him so I haven't talked to him much yet either."

"Cass, Steph, Tim, Damian, and Bruce are the ones that actually live here at the manor and outside of when I first arrived I haven't actually seen them awake enough to talk to me. Anytime I've caught a glimpse of them they're taking naps and I'd feel bad waking them up, Tim especially (he looks like he needs the rest)."

"What are they, nocturnal or something?

"That's what I thought too! But the Manor is even more dead during the night than the day. If I had wanted to live with a bunch of zombies I'd have spent summer in the zone, not come all the way here."

"The only people that have stayed awake long enough for me to actually get to know them are Duke and Alfred! Duke's great, but he seems to have a day job so I only see him for breakfast and dinner and any time I can catch him before he sleeps after. Alfred's amazing, but he already has so much to do around the Manor, I feel bad bothering him."

"It is only the first week you're there, and there was a huge Arkham breakout your first day so everybody around Gotham is a bit tense while the Bats are trying to recatch everyone. Could you give it another week for me? See if it'll be an option for if our parents react badly?"

"For you, Jazz, I'll give it another week, but I can't just trade one empty house for another."

"Thanks, little brother."

"Love you, Jazz, bye."

Danny hung up the phone and sighed, he new there was something off with his cousins, but he couldn't quite place it. Constantly napping, disappearing during the nights, but always on guard when they were awake.

He had a week to figure it out, but if he didn't there'd be no real lost love. He'd come up with some excuse, stay with Jazz for the summer or something. If his parents reacted badly and he didn't have this safety net, it'd be difficult sure, but Danny and Jazz would figure it out.

Danny thought it would be nice to have some other family that had his back for once, but hey, maybe he just had shitty luck when it came to blood relations.

979 notes · View notes