#extraordinarily tender chapter

[capnhanbers]

oh somebody up there must really like me / oh somebody else up there must truly hate me

(scene from chapter 132)

[liaa--qb]

The Viper and Nightingale game

[Dark mean Aemond x strong niece] Part 3

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Chapter 3 :Her reminiscence 2

Summary : Rheawina recalls her sweet and sour childhood moments. (We will go through their childhood memories )

Chap 2 :

Chapter 3 :

Rhaewina couldn't help but giggle. "My grandsire is your father too, Aemond. Speaking of the king that way is rather disrespectful. You might end up in trouble," she teased him, her clownish grin on full display. Aemond sighed " First a corpse must be able to walk properly in order to punish me, and before that I doubt he even remembers I exist or not."

Aemond shaked his head, his irritation evident. Many times, she pondered why he spoke of his father in such a manner. Children ought to revere their parents, as she did with her mother and father. Besides, he should take pride in having a king for a father. He was kind and merry, unlike the queen, unlike most others, especially the queen, who was kind and extraordinarily beautiful but also stern and strict. She didn't permit the children to have too much fun. Her grandsire enjoyed playing with her and regaling her and Heleana with stories, showering them with exquisite gifts, especially necklaces, which she adored.

Seeing Aemond in a somber mood troubled her because when he was sad, he wouldn't even engage in conversation with her. She replied, "Yes, you know, I fear he might actually be losing his memory. Just this evening, grandsire was calling Ser Criston 'Alicent' and telling him he looked dreadful in armor. He even said to him that 'your mustache is growing, my queen what is happening to you'.

Aemond asked, flabbergasted, "What?"  They exchanged bemused glances for a moment before breaking into low laughter.

Aemond playfully tapped her head. "You are a true clown," he said, struggling to contain his amusement. Rhaewina twirled around him in an eccentric dance and exclaimed, "Well, if you fancy me as a clown, then I shall be the Clown Princess Rhaewina!" 

Aemond's gaze took on a different quality. It was tender yet inquisitive, carrying an undercurrent of relief and deep contemplation. She had never seen him like this before. He responded softly, "If a clown is as lovely as you, then why not? "

He gently grasped her wrist and drew her closer. At that moment, she yearned to embrace him tightly. Tenderly taking hold of her tiny hand, he confessed, "I'm sorry, niece. I couldn't bring you anything for your nameday except this"  Drawing nearer, he placed a loving kiss on her cheek. Rhaewina felt an overwhelming urge to jump and dance like a mad person. Her friends stood there, watching.

Joyce and Felicia wore expressions of displeasure. Rhaewina noted this and was determined to prove them wrong and stir their envy.

She moved closer, cupping Aemond's cheeks, and planted a kiss on his cheek as well, to which Aemond recoiled, startled. He exclaimed, "What are you doing? No one has ever touched me like this except my mother."

Rhaewina laughed, saying, "But I did, and I will. It's an apology for not bringing anything for your dear niece."

Aemond groaned and replied, "Alright, you win. But what is that scent emanating from you? Do something about it. I'm not saying it's unpleasant, but it's quite overwhelming, to be honest. I can't quite describe it."

Rhaewina continued cheerfully, "It's beautiful. It's lilies and seawater. I adore it, and I'm going to wear it every day now."

Felicia suddenly appeared from behind, offering a polite greeting to Prince Aemond after a long absence. She added, "Maris has been longing to see you. She also mentioned that she'd love for you to visit the Baratheon palace again."

Aemond, visibly irritated, responded, "My courtesy to all of you princesses, but I have no intention of returning to that place anytime soon"

Joyce chimed in, attempting to defuse the situation. "Let's not spoil the nameday of our precious clown princess, Flora."

They all shared giggles, but Aemond's retort caught them off guard. "My apologies to you, princesses, but mind your tongue when referring to her as a clown. I understand your teachings at home may not be as refined as those in King's Landing, but I believe your mother must have taught you that lower-class individuals should not speak disrespectfully of those from the crown family. She is the daughter of my sister, Princess Rhaenyra, and the granddaughter of the king himself. While she may be exceptionally kind, that doesn't give you the right to forget her true status."

The atmosphere grew tense after Aemond's cutting words toward the girls. Felicia felt a mixture of anger and shock. They exchanged glances, lowered their heads, and bowed to Aemond, offering their apologies. "We apologize, Prince Aemond. We will ensure this never happens again. We were simply teasing our dear friend."

Felicia, not one to back down, probed Aemond's sensitive spot. "Yes, Prince, we're truly sorry, but Maris was inquiring about your dragon. We were keen to see your dragon, especially after the magnificent Sunfyre. A Targaryen riding a dragon is a majestic sight though. Is there any news regarding your dragon, Prince, or is it still..."

Aemond retorted, "How brainless of your friend Maris to think I would ever settle for a hatchling, just like my cousins and nephews. I would never consider such an embarrassment. My desires lie elsewhere. If a hatchling were ever born to me, I'd put an end to it myself. As for being as magnificent as Sunfyre, I'm uncertain, as I believe dragons have more purpose than merely looking pretty to impress common folks. But I promise you, my dragon's roar will be as majestic as its presence, and it will reach your friend and her entire family, even if I'm flying far away from them. She'll certainly know."

Joyce intervened, steering the conversation towards dinner. "Now, let's depart for dinner. We're all hungry. I hope you'll join us soon, my prince, and our little nameday princess."

Aemond with fake forceful smile replied, "Certainly, my pleasure. Go and enjoy your meal."

Rhaewina found herself in a mix of emotions, tense yet secretly delighted at how Aemond had silenced those who were teasing her. She remained silent, her head slightly bowed, but a broad smile graced her lips. Aemond turned his gaze toward her, studying her intently. He spoke, "You allow these foolish, lower-born people to taunt you? Aren't you ashamed? How can you associate with them? Perhaps your friendships and groups are entirely superficial for you. Do you even have any true friends?"

She was content, but his words were beginning to tread a fine line. She decided to respond, "No, no, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be. They are my friends, and we do tease each other and play around. Felicia, for instance, helps me with my hair and brings me lovely gifts. We simply had a little argument and spat; she started it. Aemond, nobody is 'lower born.' That's a harsh way to put it. They all belong to respectable and affluent houses."

Aemond, bending down to her height, leaned closer and whispered into Rhaewina's ear, "Listen, you little clown. If nothing else, consider the crown. You're a princess showing both Valyrian and Targaryen lineage behind you. You shouldn't even engage with anyone beneath your station, let alone befriend them. Friendship is a distant notion."

She was about to voice her disagreement, but Aemond silenced her by gently placing his finger on her lips. "I won't entertain any arguments," he asserted. "Next time, they shouldn't dare treat you poorly in front of everyone on your nameday. Believe me, if I were in your place, things would have been very different."

She understood what he meant but didn't want to revisit those memories. She was enjoying this moment, the sensation of his fingers brushing her hair behind her ear and cascading down to her shoulders. Aemond added, "If I ever witness such behavior again, I won't hesitate to intervene. I hope you grasp what I've explained and start conducting yourself as a princess, not a follower," he said, poking her chin gently with his fingers.

She nodded in agreement, and as Aemond started to move away, he turned back and playfully taunted, "And do something about that scent; it's starting to irritate me. It better not be there next time, or I'll have you wash it off thoroughly."

She giggled, inwardly determined not to part with the fragrance. "No, I won't do that. I love it, and it's my favorite. If you dislike it, that's your problem," she quipped before running away, her heart brimming with happiness. She knew now, without a doubt, that he was the one for her. The way he had stood up for her affirmed it—Aemond is her future husband !

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Another day -

Rhaewina was elated, lost in her play with Heleana in ground, when her attention was abruptly stolen by the escalating brawl among a group of boys. Intrigued, she drew closer until she realized that her brothers and cousins were locked in a heated skirmish with some other local boys, and Aemond stood at the center of it all.

A scuffle ensued; someone grabbed Aemond, and in response, he forcefully pushed the aggressor to the ground. Aemond proceeded to exchange punches, but her brother Jace intervened, stepping between Aemond and the other boy, and took a hit himself in the process. Jace started yelling at Aemond, and for a moment, it seemed like the situation might escalate further. However, one of the boys who's supposed to be Aegon's friend managed to halt the argument. Aemond forcibly pushed Jace aside and continued walking away.

They had fought again, and Rhaewina knew all too well what topic had ignited Aemond's fury – his dragon. But why did he care so deeply? Did it truly matter that much? Why did he behave as though lacking a dragon diminished his worth ? Not everyone needed to ride a dragon. To her, a dragon was not some coveted prize; it was a matter of destiny.

If one was meant to have one, it would come to them naturally. Yet, it didn't inherently make someone greater. Other virtues held far more significance. Aemond's intense attachment to this issue remained a mystery to her.

She watched as Aemond approached her path. Her intention was to halt him and uplift his spirits. She stepped toward him with a cheerful voice, "Aemond..." But she was abruptly brushed aside by his unyielding shoulder, causing a sharp pain in her nose, as he continued on his way, his anger unrelenting.

His demeanor was so intense that it seemed he could unleash fury upon anyone who crossed his path in that moment.

Later after some hrs, she decided to see him, hoping to see Aemond in better mood. She knew precisely where to find him when he was seething with anger. She strode through the silent, forgotten corners of the Red Keep. To the average observer, it might seem odd that she was venturing into such eerie solitude, but she had a purpose. There, in a fit of rage, he stood, pummeling a massive, unyielding rock until his knuckles bled.

This desolate space had once been a practice ground for war training during Maegor's reign. In days past, it had been alive with activity, but it had long since been branded as cursed by the superstitious. Training grounds had been relocated, leaving this area to decay. It was not entirely barren, still adorned with old war equipment and various other relics, particularly those used for ceremonial purposes before being discarded here. Nonetheless, few dared to tread these forgotten paths regularly.

Startled by the approaching footsteps, Aemond paused his frenzied punches for a moment. "What are you doing here? Go away and play somewhere else," he grumbled without even turning to identify the intruder. Rhaewina was taken aback and slightly fearful; he hadn't bothered to check who it was. In a sweet tone, she responded, "How did you know it was me?"

Aemond sighed with irritation, resuming his punches. "Maybe I wouldn't have cared if you didn't reek of that...whatever foul scent you're wearing whole time. It's repugnant!"

Despite her growing frustration, she kept her tone gentle. "The scent isn't repugnant; it's beautiful. But your mood is decidedly sour." She continued her cautious approach. "What happened back there? I saw you were in a fight."

It was amusing how she should have been with Jace and Luke, her brothers, but here she was, the first to reach him. Aemond abandoned his punching for a moment but then picked up a decayed, hefty sword, using it forcefully against a large rock, his voice dripping with disdain. "Those lowborn fools had the audacity to claim that a boy without a dragon is like a eunuch—no manhood to speak of. These wretched bastards dared say this to me, the prince" 

[livlepretre]

DESPERATE for insight on that ending!!! Klaus and Elena have this tender moment (“Are you very unhappy?”) and then he gives back Stefan his humanity as he hits absolute rock bottom. Is it cruelty? That he’s making Stefan now deal with all that he’s done in these 4 years? Or is it an act of compassion towards Elena? Giving her back the Stefan she loves? Or am I totally wrong and there’s a secret third reason?

Okay so the answer is a secret third reason, which might be a little bonkers.

Ummm...

SO. Kol really got under Klaus's skin with the whole "isn't the best thing about Elena the fact that she is so beautifully human?"

Because this instantly set up a contrast in Klaus's mind. Human Elena who smiles and laughs and cares, versus vampiric Stefan who is grim and bloodthirsty and a slave to his appetites and cares for nothing.

It's not like what he values in her most is her humanity, per se. He values her for lots of reasons that are much more specific to Elena herself, and he would still value her as a vampire, I think. It's just that Kol has suddenly painted for him a very strong contrast between what he wants and what he actually has. And as the night goes on and he stews on this he grows increasingly unhappy with where he is at.

He watches Elena that night with the other humans and concludes that Kol had been correct. He sees her through the lens Kol paints for him during their argument and it makes everything worse. In his mind, episodes like sitting through that comedy show next to her, which were torture for him, now have a new context because he's understanding what it is about Elena in those instances that undoes him.

When Elena observes he is jealous, it's not actually anything to do with the camaraderie between Kol and Stefan-- it's actually that he's jealous of the attention she is giving everyone else, of even the meaningless flirtations with those boys at the pool table. He's in a sulk over her and she can't see it, although Stefan understands it well enough.

When Klaus turns the question to Stefan about whether he cares about his own brother, he's returning to something he had brought up earlier-- when he brought up Damon with Stefan and Elena a few chapters ago, he wasn't quite sure what he wanted out of the conversation, how he wanted either of them to react-- just that he was dissatisfied with the results. Here, he knows what he wants: he wants Stefan to respond the way Elena had, with a measure of care for his brother, the way Elena has for hers. He's watching the way Elena responds so emotively and passionately and trying to see if there is anything that can bring that out in Stefan.

He realizes over the course of the night that there isn't-- that Stefan is too far gone. And he keeps an eye on Elena while also watching Stefan spiral, and growing increasingly unhappy with him.

And it's when Elena confronts him with so much empathy and regard, and he feels so utterly stripped before her, that he spots Stefan-- and it saves him from opening up to her, because although he wants her, he does not want to want her, has sworn her off, cannot allow it for himself-- and he gets an idea.

He cannot have exactly what he wants.

But perhaps there is a way to make Stefan into what he wants.

To make Stefan a little bit more like Elena.

So he chooses that moment to return to him his humanity. It is an act of exquisite cruelty-- the timing couldn't be worse-- but in a way, Klaus is perfectly content with the timing because at least Stefan is guaranteed a strong reaction. A human reaction. He will take human horror over nothing at all.

And although this is extraordinarily cruel of Klaus-- he did not do it for cruelty's sake, but because he is selfish, and he is searching for the thing that will make him want Elena less, and he is determined to fill that void inside of himself that she left when she daggered him in any way that he can.

[scarfacemarston]

Abigail Roberts A-Z Fluff Prompt

The rest are found through here. E - Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Breakups are always awkward, but she has had some experience with it - just not in conventional ways. As a sex worker, some clients would fall in love with her, and she would have to carefully and gently break it off.

She was professional but kind about it. You never know how people are going to react. She ended her relationship with John in the epilogue completely devastated. It was an act of finality that was the result of a woman at her wit's end. However, once John won her back, there was no way she would ever leave him again unless he went back to his old ways.

If it's someone outside of John, she would be quiet and keep it together the best she can. It comes off as a little "professional" sounding, but that is her way of trying not to fall apart or making it messier than needed. She'll say her piece and then wish you the best, and that is that. 

F - Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As mentioned before, she never expected to have a real family after everything she went through. She thought John would be her chance, but those dreams were dashed until chapter 3. It's definitely something she's craved, but after John, she felt like no one would want a "used-up single mother." If it was an OC/Sadie, they would have to take a lot of time to earn her trust, but once she did? Head over heels, ride or die. She fantasized about the family with John, and it was a dream when it finally happened. However, I think it would happen quicker with a different partner because of less baggage. She definitely wants to get married, whether it's formal or a Boston marriage, if she's with a woman.

G - Gentle (how gentle they, both physically and emotionally?) Canon Abigail is very strong. We see her in Chapter 1 hauling John to the wagon with Charles's help………she takes at least ⅓ of the strength. She also can tack by herself, as seen in the epilogue. I would also imagine she has some strength from carrying Jack around all day. HOWEVER, if we're talking about physical touch, she is very gentle, ----but lord behold, if she needs to prevent you from going somewhere, she has a freakishly strong grip. Jack and John know this very well. She gently pats people on the shoulder or gives the lightest of touches on the back in a soothing way. 

Emotionally - she is a tough woman who doesn't like to wear her emotions on her sleeve - despite that, she still manages to show her depression and anger when she doesn't want to. However, this is usually in extreme circumstances. She is a tell it as it is a person like Molly, but she is very tactful in how she speaks. She is also gentle with Tilly but also tries to help her see things she didn't see before. She is extraordinarily gentle with Sadie and Jack. She tries to with John, but she is very insecure about it, considering how often she's rebuffed.

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Abigail is definitely a hugger once she knows you. She gives tight, bone-crushing hugs. The type where you're like, "How does this slight woman have this much strength!" They're warm and safe. She especially gives them when she's excited. See Jack in chapter 4, Arthur and John in chapter 5, and Sadie and John in the epilogue. I'm pretty sure she's also given Charles a bone-crushing hug. She's just so full of joy when she's hugging someone she cares about. However, they can also be sweet and tender, especially with people like Jack, but he's not the only one. She'd do the same for her partner, depending on the situation.

[innerpalaces]

THE PRINCESS WEI YANG - 153 PART 2

CHAPTER 153: The Dust Has Settled

The feast began. All kinds of delicacies were brought to the table like flowing water, and the maids at each table cleverly warmed the wine and served dishes for the concubines, court officials, and madams.

Sun Yanjun laughed in a low voice and said: "Wei Yang, did you see the look on Prince Yan's face? He really deserves it. He was so arrogant in Dali. He deserves to marry this female tiger and go back to deal with her. But isn't Princess Yongning a little older? Grand Prince Yan is probably seven or eight years younger than her—"

Li Wei Yang sighed and said: "Everyone knows this matter well, but have you seen anyone bring it up? Not to mention seven or eight years old, even if it is ten or twenty years old, why not? Haven't you heard, in the previous dynasty, Empress Fang's wet nurse was already over seventy, and Empress Fang was worried that she would be lonely when in her old age, so she actually married her off to a forty year old widower, Shang Shu. This is the imperial family, and you cannot refuse. His Majesty's previous tolerance to Yuexi was all for the sake of forming an alliance, but Grand Prince Yan violated his bottom line. "

"But this marriage is too mismatched."

"That's why I say that His Royal Highness, Grand Prince Yan, is really tolerant and deserves to be admired!" Li Wei Yang's smile seemed to be filled with infinite tenderness, which made Sun Yanjun look a little stunned. She always felt that Li Wei Yang's appearance was too cold. Although she was beautiful, she lacked the charisma that would cause others to be moved by her beauty. Now that she looked at her smile, it was completely different from before.

Tuoba Yu on the opposite side also looked at Li Wei Yang from a distance. His eyes never left her face. Her features are picturesque and her appearance is like jade. In the eyes of outsiders, her beautiful appearance is not very alluring, but in Tuoba Yu's view, her eyes like ancient wells or the bright moon are enough to make up for this. She may not be as beautiful as Li Changle, maybe not as charming as Consort Lian, maybe not be as stunning as Princess Anguo... but she is incomparable, at least, in his eyes, extraordinarily unique.

If it weren't for the Empress Dowager's obstruction, now she'd have become his princess consort. There would have been no need for him to stare foolishly at her from afar. But so what if she was his aunt? As long as he gets everything, she will naturally not be able to escape. Tuoba Yu didn't realize that his eyes had become predatory. In fact, it even made Li Wei Yang notice it. She lightly glanced at him, but Tuoba Yu only smiled and acted as if nothing had happened.

Just that one glance had caused Li Wei Yang to be slightly shocked. In her impression, Tuobayu is always noble and proud. He may admire her, but he disdains to use despicable means to seize her. However, just now, what kind of look did she see? It was so terrifying — her smile slowly froze on her lips.

Princess Anguo sat with a smile on her face, accepting everyone's congratulations. Tuoba Zhen returned to his seat and immediately attracted envious eyes.

Princess Anguo is the beloved daughter of Empress Pei of Yuexi, and everyone knows this. Although she is arrogant, proud, and willful, in the eyes of men, no matter how wild a horse is, it will eventually be tamed. This Princess Anguo looked noble and lofty, and was connected with powerful people of Yuexi. When she came to Dali, everyone knew that she wanted to find a prince consort. Anyone with some status in Dali was eager to try, but in the end no one could catch her eye. But in an instant, she became the third prince's consort.

"No woman from a well-known family, with any knowledge, would choose a ruthless man like the Third Prince. He only has his own interests in his eyes and no emotions. So what if she's Princess Anguo or the daughter of Empress Pei. Yuexi is thousands of miles away and cannot protect her. How can the status of a consort guarantee her favor?" Sun Yanjun shook her head, her eyes were smart and cunning, and she walked around the hall with her clear eyes shining brightly and she covered her lips with a fan and whispered.

Li Wei Yang smiled. The fate of Princess Yongning and Princess Anguo is the same. Their status as princess consorts will not change, but whether they can be favored depends on themselves. After all, no matter how powerful the imperial family is, they can't control what happens in other people's backyards. She slowly looked at Sun Yanjun. After getting married, this girl's heroic aura became more tender. It was obvious that her life was very good. She said: "Second sister-in-law, not everyone is as discerning as you."

Sun Yanjun's marriage was her own choice. It was a marriage that did not involve face and status. Most days, just by looking at the way the second young master of the Li family looked at his new wife, she could tell that these two people were living happily. ——But for other people, whether they are royal princesses or famous ladies, all they want is a well-matched person who respects each other as a guest. Who dares to ask for the love of a husband for a lifetime? As long as we live in peace and harmony for the rest of our lives, we will have a happy life.

Li Wei Yang raised her head with a cold expression, revealing a strange smile. At this time, the Emperor gave an order, and singing and dancing started again, creating a lively atmosphere. But she didn't look at the singing and dancing, she just looked at her wine glass. Her fingertips were slender and white. She lifted the cup and took a light sip, the color of her lips deepening.

The soup was served, but the Ninth Princess, who was sitting not far away, put down the engraved silver spoon and frowned: "It tastes really bad... I want to go and relax!" She said this and stood up straight away then walked to Li Wei Yang and said: "Auntie, come with me."

This move was so sudden that many people noticed it. However, one of them was the Emperor's biological daughter and the other was the adopted daughter of the empress dowager. Who dared to stop it? Even the Emperor just sighed. He knew that the Ninth Princess was very dissatisfied with his decree. She didn't like her sister marrying away to Yuexi, and she disliked Grand Prince Yan even more. But everything was a foregone conclusion and no one could change it.

Li Wei Yang couldn't help laughing when she heard the Ninth Princess calling her aunt. The other party always called her by her name, and she would only call her by this title on such occasions. Before she could speak, Ninth Princess had already hugged her arm. She acted coquettishly and said, "Let's go for a walk, okay..."

Li Wei Yang was in a dilemma. She could only glance at Li Xiaoran who was not far away. When he nodded, she sighed, stood up and said, "Okay."

The Ninth Princess smiled brightly and said, "Thank you, aunt!" This cry was heard clearly by many people, each with different expressions on their faces, especially Tuobayu, whose gaze seemed liked he wished her could block the Ninth Princess's mouth.

Li Wei Yang and the Ninth Princess walked out together, and the Ninth Princess's lips that had been raised suddenly dropped: "I'm really angry with my father - he married that arrogant princess to the third brother, but I don't get along with him so I won't care about that. But he also marries the my imperial sister to Yuan Yu, which is too much!"

"Your Majesty naturally has his intentions." Li Wei Yang narrowed her eyes, "Princess, you should think about it carefully, don't be angry with His Majesty and miss the big picture."

"I'm not a child!" Ninth Princess stared at her with round eyes and said unhappily, "I know the general idea, don't worry, it's just that - after all, I feel unhappy."

You are not the only one who is displeased in you heart, I am afraid that Grand Prince Yan is already going crazy with anger. Li Wei Yang smiled slightly, but did not explain.

"Why did you two come here?" A voice suddenly sounded. The Ninth Princess and Li Wei Yang turned around at the same time, only to see the graceful figure of Princess Anguo walking towards them, her beauty even surpassing that of the imperial garden's flowers. The man beside her was dressed in luxurious clothing, and was tall and handsome, but his smile and his eyes were rather cold.

Seeing Li Wei Yang, Tuoba Zhen frowned slightly.

Princess Anguo noticed the change in his expression and her bright eyes filled with worry: "Third Prince, are you feeling unwell?"

Tuoba Zhen smiled and said lightly: "Somewhat. When I was hunting a few days ago, I was bitten by a powerful venomous snake. It has not healed yet... I've just drunk some alcohol, and the wound is hurting a bit. It doesn't matter."

"Why don't you go back and rest?" Princess Anguo's smile didn't change as she considerately replied.

The Ninth Princess looked at her coldly, but felt that Princess Anguo was as docile as a kitten in front of Tuoba Zhen. She couldn't see the arrogance and domineering attitude from that day at all. She couldn't help but click her tongue in wonder, wondering if this was really the same person that could whip someone? This kind of speculation made the Ninth Princess very unhappy. She also hoped that the third brother, who had always been very powerful, would deal with this princess severely. Now that Princess Anguo was so well-behaved and seemingly obedient, she was extremely disappointed for a moment. She couldn't help but provocatively say: "After all, you are from Yuexi. You don't know the rules. You haven't even gotten married yet, but you are so close in public. You are really too impatient!"

Princess Anguo looked at her sideways, her face filled with anger: "How come you don't know what's right and what's wrong? I'm being tolerant on behalf of your third brother, but don't push your luck too far..."

The two people were facing each other, but Tuoba Zhen looked at Li Wei Yang and his eyes seemed to have infinite coldness.

"Third Brother! Are you serious about marrying this woman? She was the one who killed Miss Mo and the others. If you marry a girl like her, you will definitely have bad luck!" Ninth Princess said.

Princess Anguo's eyes flashed ruthlessly. She almost wanted to order someone to attack again, but the secret guard behind her was not brought into the palace, which made her even more angry. She looked at Tuoba Zhen, almost coquettishly, and said aggrieved: "Your Highness—"

"Third brother!" The ninth princess stamped her feet angrily when she saw that Princess Anguo had put on such a shameless act.

"Okay, okay..." Tuoba Zhen quickly interrupted, comforting everyone, "Just now, it was because I said that the hall was stuffy, that's why the princess accompanied me out for a walk. Little sister, don't be so rude. Be careful, or Imperial Father will teach you a lesson." During the conversation, he had no intention of speaking for the Ninth Princess at all.

Li Wei Yang saw clearly that Tuoba Zhen no longer had the need to preseve his relationship with the Ninth Princess, because she was about to marry into the Duke of Luo Kingdom, and her position with him was destined to be hostile. He had no need to help her. Not only that, he also wanted to suppress his enemies.

These words made the Princess Anguo unable to restrain her joy. She didn't expect that he would protect her in this way. She couldn't help but glance sideways, her bright eyes seductive: "Yes, Ninth Princess, you should be more sensible and stop arguing over trivial matters. Of course, I won't take it to heart." She seemed to be very magnanimous.

The Ninth Princess was furious and just about to speak, but Li Wei Yang held her back and shook her head.

Tuoba Zhen raised his head and looked at her. Li Wei Yang was dressed in a luxurious outfit, and her snow-white skin and cloud chignon matched each other's beauty. Coupled with her delicate build and smooth red lips, when she shook her head, her lips would be slightly pursed, causing one to let their imagination run wild. She has a delicate face, but in the past he only noticed her intelligence, but now if he looks carefully, she actually has this kind of charm.

Tuoba Zhen's eyes darkened, and he stared at her subconsciously, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and almost forgot about Princess Anguo next to him. What kind of person was Princess Anguo? She quickly realized the look in his eyes, and as she looked over, she noticed Li Wei Yang.

Yes, the adopted daughter of the empress dowager, Li Wei Yang, who should have been married to Prince Yan. Anguo's eyes became stern at that moment, but soon, Tuoba Zhen came back to his senses and said: "Princess, I feel much better now. There is an emerald begonia in the imperial garden over there, would you like to go and have a look?"

Princess Anguo smiled, retracted her eyes from Li Wei Yang's face, and said: "Naturally."

They passed by Li Wei Yang, and Tuoba Zhen never looked at her again, but after walking a ways, Princess Anguo looked back at her.

Li Wei Yang met her gaze directly and, for the first time, did not avoid it.

Princess Anguo was startled. Li Wei Yang's pair of calm eyes stared straight at her, like an ancient well with a faint glimmer of water. However, it didn't have the delicate look of a woman.

"Sister, it was Li Wei Yang who harmed me." Yuan Yu's words from that night were still ringing in her ears. Princess Anguo didn't believe it at first. She felt that Li Wei Yang was just a timid and cowardly girl, and there was nothing to fear. Just like the last time when she purposely provoked her in the courtyard, Li Wei Yang didn't dare to speak up. Isn't this cowardly? But now, she doesn't think so anymore.

Yuan Yu will leave soon, but she will stay here for the rest of her life. Perhaps, she would be a difficult opponent to deal with. Anguo thought this in her heart, but couldn't help but laugh. She was the majestic Princess Anguo, who could be better than herself? She glanced at Tuoba Zhen beside her, feeling quite satisfied. However, thinking about the upcoming wedding, she couldn't help but feel a little more worried. He would eventually know about that matter. Her mother had wished to choose a husband for her in Yuexi, always telling her not to reveal her secret. But, she doesn't want to! She is the Princess Anguo, a phoenix in the sky. How can an ordinary person match her? Her father and brothers are all so handsome and outstanding, why couldn't she marry someone like them! So she ignored Empress Pei's obstruction and tried her best to come to Dali, and finally met the man she wanted...

No matter what, she was going to get married, and to a handsome, smart and elegant prince. With her status as Princess Anguo, even if he realized everything on the wedding night, in the end, he could only obediently be husband and wife with her. They would be a happy couple. As for Li Wei Yang, it is not too late to wait until after the wedding to deal with her.

Thus, she calmly accompanied Tuoba Zhen as she gently turned around and walked away.

The Ninth Princess said angrily: "Wei Yang, you should let me teach her a lesson!"

Li Wei Yang sneered and said: "A battle of words is in vain. If the Ninth Princess really wants to teach her a lesson, why worry that there is no way?"

At this moment, a few words drifted over with the wind: "Third Highness, the Princess Anping is such a wonderful person——"

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Twenty-Two

As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No).

To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone.

Word Count: ~2.5k

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The feeling of your legs giving out was instantly washed away by an orgasm that was sending electric shivers to every part of your body… but rather than flopping to the ground, Morpheus caught you and cradled you against his chest while nuzzling his face into your hair. You took several gulps of air, your chest heaving and your entire body now feeling euphoric. Staring up at the open sky, your fingers trembled as they weakly curled around onyx strands. You softly moaned within his arms basking in the aftershocks of what Morpheus’s love brought. Tenderness. Love. Adoration. He was everything you needed to feel complete. You felt tears start burning in your eyes again, but this time from the happiness of simply being in his arms again. You felt complete once more.

Twisting in place, Morpheus gently brought your naked and trembling body down to the soft grass of your private courtyard. His hands brushed the hair from your face as you hazily blinked up at him. Then he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours. You shuddered and sighed, drawing a hand from his hair to his face. Your fingers trailed across the dampness that still clung to his lips and chin, and you felt alone streak of heat burn through your already warm cunt. Morpheus always managed to wreck you in the best way possible. Eyelids fluttering, your eyes peered up into blue dusted in silver.

“What a way to worship, my Dream,” You softly teased, curling your fingers along his cheekbone in eternal appreciation. “To make my legs so lax that they are unable to support me? Surely an achievement you can add to your repertoire.” A black eyebrow twitched upwards.

“Oh my Hope, I have only just begun,” Morpheus drew out, his voice deep and rich. “And I shall not design to cease until I am sure that you are aware fo the gravity of my apology and fully understand my burning devotion and idolatry to you.” Your fingers pressed harder into his face, loving the smoothness of his flesh and the unbelievable beauty of Morpheus. Mother Night and Father Time had done an unbelievable job sculpting him into creation. His eyebrow and lips quirked, his fingers coming up to brush across your swelled lips. “And now what runs through my dear sweet Dawn’s mind to have her looking upon me with such awe? Should it not be me who gazes in reverence, my Hope?”

You cupped his face and enjoyed his beauty further.

“You’re so beautiful,” You softly commented, your eyes glowing with passion and love. How could one being be this beautiful? Your fingers drifted, running across his cheekbones, brushing along his lips, stroking his jaw. His eyes were still that extraordinarily blue color dusted with stars and stardust, and the obsidian black hair that Morpheus never bothered to comb was just as soaked in night as it had been eons ago. Alabaster skin glowed with the purity of an untouched, newly formed planet and the hum of his essence whispered just below flesh in a hungry clash of thunder. Morpheus’s eyes wavered in a mirage of explosive power and tender love as he stared down at you. Your fingers stroked his face once more. “Please love me, my Dream. I’ve been so lonely without you.”

Morpheus bowed his head, his forehead pressing against yours for a few moments.

“I shall never leave you to despair alone, my Hope,” Morpheus whispered to you, his nose brushing against yours. Your eyelids fluttered close as you basked in his tender words and gentle touches. You loved how soft and gentle your Endless lover, in all his power and might, could be. How, despite his seriousness and brevity, he allowed himself to be vulnerable when within your arms. It was like only you got to experience the real Dream, and oh how you loved him. Morpheus’s lips grazed yours ever so softly. You slipped your hand to the back of his neck and tilted your head, allowing yourself the pleasure of tasting his lips once more.

Morpheus basked in your taste, desperate for his hands to wander your soft body, to run across your lush curves, to feel the embrace of the only entity who ever made him feel at home. His lips slowly became more urgent against yours, roaming across your mouth until you drew in a sharp breath, a surge of warmth filling your body. Morpheus pressed forwards, slipping his way past your parted lips to get a deeper taste of you, tongue laving at yours. He kissed you deeply, over and over until the skin of your neck and face sweltered. You were almost dizzy from his kisses, your naked body shifting and squirming against his still clothed one.

Your legs still shook lightly from the pleasure Morpheus had pulled from your body and the harsh throb in your cunt made you whine against his mouth. Not even Morpheus’s open mouthed kisses and tongue twisting with yours until you felt heaven sent could distract you from what your body felt. From what your body wanted. He caught your lower lip and gave it a tug. Your proceeding soft whimper fed his need to drink your ethereal body and once again become a willing prisoner to your touch. As Morpheus ran his hand down your body, lazily stroking your breasts and caressing their soft curves, your fingers grasped his onyx hair. Morpheus then ran his fingers along the line of your hipbone and you pushed your hips against his touch.

“My Dream, please,” You begged, that throbbing within your cunt nearly becoming painful. Oh how you just wished to be filled by him once more. Only he could cease that painful empty sensation. You tugged on his hair once more as Morpheus shifted his lips to gently nip at the skin of your bared neck. “Please, my body aches for you, I need you, I need you.” How cruel of him to be so close but still so far. You wouldn’t feel complete until your very essences were intertwined once more. Another frustrated whimper slipped from your swelled lips.

“Forgive me, my Hope, but you must wait just a little longer,” Morpheus whispered soothingly against your neck, lips pausing over the area where your essence hummed and beat beneath your skin. He slipped his fingers over your curls to your drenched and sensitive flesh that he, only moments before, had been drinking from. Morpheus stroked his thumb over your clit and you let out a delicious moan, your hips lifting into his hand once more. “If I take you in the way that you wish I will hurt you. You know that I will not have you unless I am satisfied your body is ready for mine.”

Your frustration was clear on your face, as was your dissatisfaction with his words, but the moment Morpheus pushed his long fingers over your clit and through your folds a second time, your impatientness evaporated. Breath catching in your throat, your arm slipped over his shoulder and you scratched at his jacket. Fire streaked between your legs and your thighs trembled around his wrist as he continued to stroke your swollen flesh.

“Morpheus,” You gasped, feeling a finger dip into your body and stroke your walls. Then he added a second finger, stretching out your tightened body. “Oh,” Your walls clenched around his fingers, desperate for more and yet entirely comfortable with the girth in which he stretched you. Raising his gaze, Morpheus watched as you bit your lip and squirmed against his ministrations. Oh how you looked so beautiful, you always did. Chest rising and falling at a faster pace, your stared up into the face of your lover and sank your teeth into your lip, smothering the sounds of pleasure that bubbled in the back of your throat. Morpheus grabbed your chin with his free hand and tugged your lip from the bite of your teeth.

“You think to deprive me of your melodic sounds, my Hope?” He sounded insulted and his eyes echoed that sentiment. You shuddered beneath him and his fingers plunged faster, deeper, into your body. Your eyelids fluttered and you gasped out, mewling and whimpering from Morpheus’s increased strokes. He teased more ecstasy from your cunt, but that was not what your throbbing flesh craved. Surely with how his fingers slid into your body with ease and slickness from your earlier orgasm you were well prepared for your lover. Morpheus thrust a third finger into your body. You physically tensed at the stretch, jerking on the fistfuls of hair you held as a kiss of sting settled between your legs.

It seemed your body had forgotten your lover.

“See, my Hope” Morpheus gently spoke to you, his lips fluttered across your jaw as your walls clenched around the fingers stretching them back out. “Your body doesn’t recognize my love, I will have to reacquaint it with my full adoration and reverence.” The sounds of his fingers repeatedly plunging into your body, combined his thumb occasionally caressing your clit, had you in a squirming mess upon the grass of your courtyard and well ready to beg.

“I need you, Morpheus,” You cried out, harshly tugging at his hair and pressing your face against his. “Please, rid me of my emptiness, I beg of you, my love.”   Morpheus stroked your wobbling lower lip once more, he never could stand your begging and his hunger for you was nearing an unbearable insatiable state. So with a soft growl, Morpheus retracted his fingers from your body and made his own clothes melt away to nothing. The moment you felt his naked skin on yours, your wiggling tempered and you softly groaned. You could feel the warm cock against your throbbing mound, teasing you and making that throb turn sharper. Your breathing quickened.

Morpheus held your jaw, nuzzling his lips against yours and savoring the little pants and whines that slipped from your lips. Your patience was not nearly on par with Morpheus’s and that was well apparent. While he slicked his cock through your soaked folds, Morpheus pressed his lips against yours once more, nibbling on them ever so softly before nudging them apart so that he could once again tangle his tongue with yours. Drinking in your intoxicating taste and laving his tongue against yours, Morpheus pressed the head of his cock against your opening and ever so slowly pushed himself into your body. It resisted against his intrusion, but not nearly as much as when he had first taken you all those eons ago, but it was enough to make you softly whimper and tense within his arms. Dragging his mouth from yours, Morpheus brushed his lips across your cheek.

“Relax my Hope,” He whispered to you as you fought against the urge to tense further at the sensation of his cock stretching you out again. Your nails dug into the muscles of Morpheus’s back, your cunt pulsating around his cock. You felt heavenly around him and it his muscles strained to keep his pelvis pressed against yours. Your walls were clenching almost painfully around him, hot and welcoming. Another tense shiver went up your spine. “Dawn,” Morpheus chided, nipping at your jaw, his intense blue eyes boring up into yours.

“I can’t help it,” You gasped out, wrapping your limbs around him, basking in his sharp kisses on your tender skin. Surely they would bloom with color in a few hours. “I never feel complete unless I am with you and I am starving for you. Do you design to leave me hungry?”

Blue shifted to a silver glow and you felt a shiver run along your spine. A hand settled on your waist and fingers seared into your skin. Morpheus held you gaze as he drew back his hips from yours and then thrust forwards, your cunt clasping his cock fiercely and rippling from that one action. He repeated his action, watching as your eyes rolled slightly and lips curving as your grasp on his hair once again turned sharp.

“I have left you ravenous for eons, my Hope, and that is a heinous crime.” Morpheus purred, settling into a rhythm that made you squeak out a gasp each and every time the head of his cock buried itself into the depths of your cunt. You were gorgeous beneath him, cheeks flushed with heat and chest heaving, and the way your walls fluttered around his cock was utter ecstasy. Morpheus lowered his mouth to a breast and sealed his lips around a nipple, sucking on it through his continued thrusts. You cried out, chest thrusting against his mouth. His tongue toyed and flicked your nipple, playing with the hardened bud.

Your fingers raked across his scalp and you bucked your hips against his, pelvises crashing against each other. Morpheus growled against your chest and bit at the soft tissue, you fed off his sounds, your cheeks now glowing with heat. Eyelids fluttering shut, you dug one of your heels into his lower back, loving the way Morpheus seemed to fill you completely each and every time he plunged deep within your body. His mouth released your nipple and Morpheus kissed his way up your chest and neck until your mouths were hovering over each other. You felt your essence slip free of your physical body and wind its way around your body, searching. It didn’t have to search for long.

Morpheus’s essence surged forwards in a storm of dreams, swallowing yours whole until your cosmic entities were wrapping around each other. An explosion of sensation sparked within your essence as you floated through time and space, Morpheus wrapped around you, in you. Your being finally intertwined to form the perfect connection and as shards of ecstasy rippled throughout the cosmos, you became undone within your lovers arms, finally at peace. 

Back in your physical body, you moaned at the ache between your legs and the swell of love within your body. After being hollow for so long, your physical body was unaccustomed to the influx of emotions and reverence. Let alone the cosmic coupling that your essences craved. Lips ghosted across your cheek and hands collected your limp body within strong arms. You were cradled against a smooth chest and your face tucked into a neck. Slowly cracking your eyes open, you gazed at the beautiful skin of your lover as he carried you from the courtyard. Morpheus entered your private chambers and settled you down on your soft bed.

“Morpheus?” You spoke out as hands trailed along your body. Morpheus caressed your shoulders, traced your sides, appreciated the beauty of your thighs. He joined you on your bed, pressing kisses along your skin. Tingles bloomed where his mouth had been, echoing his complete and endless devotion.

“It has been eons since our essences joined as one, my Hope,” He replied, nipping along your jaw and placing kisses at the edge of your mouth. “Give your physical being time to recover, my love, for it will surely need it when I am through with you.”

You let out a pleased moan, knowing that he would not allow your body to stray from his until he was satisfied that you fully acknowledged and understood his veneration. You doubted that you would be able to walk once he was finished.

Date Published: 3/31/23

Last Edit: 3/31/23

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[onebloodsoakedlion]

Lost and Stolen - A Pokémon Creepypasta/Spinpasta - Chapter 1.ETHAN

DISCLAIMER: This creepypasta is a bit of spin-off, inspired by Lost Silver, Snow on Mt. Silver, False Red and Lost Soul Silver. Also, trigger warnings from those creepypastas apply to this one.

The light and cold completely engulfed Ethan and Lyra. Neither could see each other, nor could they react, as they were too overwhelmed by the cold to do anything other than curl up and violently shiver.

A minute later, however, the light and chill subsided. Ethan was still at the summit, but now it was blanked in snow and... "Lyra!" Ethan screamed, "LYRA! Where are you!?" Ethan was alone. Alone on the summit. The machine had disappeared, too. But in its place, was a Celebi... except its colours were all pale blue and purple - just like how Ethan and Lyra's Pokémon ended up when they tried to scale this cursed mountain. It looked emaciated, its body shrivelled. Its hands were stripped down to the bone. And its eyes, oh Arceus, its eyes! They were black holes with blood-red embers for pupils.

Ethan stared at the Celebi in shock. He wasn't sure what to think. He considered sending out Asher, but he didn't want to put him in any more danger, considering his already critical state.

Less than five seconds later, Celebi raised its head at Ethan and opened its mouth. Before Ethan could even reach for Asher's Pokéball, Celebi emitted what could only be described as a horrible, ragged, high-pitched screech. Ethan's eyes widened in terror when his Pokégear recognised it as Perish Song. Why was this Celebi using Perish Song on him!? Is this what could've happened to Fire or Leaf?

As Celebi kept screeching, Ethan's head began to scream and throb in pain, so much so that he fell to his knees, clutching his head in his hands. He began to feel extraordinarily dizzy and his body fell forward into the snow. He yelled in pain, only to be cut off by a complete shortness of breath. He felt himself rapidly losing consciousness, but the pain seemed to only be getting worse... and worse... Until his head exploded.

.....

Ethan found himself in an icy tunnel, which was absolutely freezing, even compared to the cursed mountain that he and Lyra tried to explore. He felt woozy and nauseated. He could no longer feel his right eye... his left leg... or his right arm. He couldn't even see out of that eye, either. He tried to pull himself up, but his right arm didn't seem to be doing anything, and a sleeve flopped in front of him, with purple pulp staining it and spilling out. He put his remaining hand to his eye, only to find a tender, gaping hole where it should've been. He looked over at his left leg - it was gone from just below the knee and the same purple pulp was hanging off where his leg had been... amputated. He gritted his teeth and silently cried. He just lost all but one of his Pokémon, he just lost Lyra, and now here he was, having lost an eye, an arm and a leg, cold and alone in a freezing cold tunnel.

Fire... Leaf... did they go through this, too?

Ethan had no choice, however. He had to keep going. No one was going to rescue him. If he was to have any hope at all of surviving this ordeal, he had to get himself out of here... somehow...

He crawled forward, using his remaining arm and leg... It's so cold... As he made his way towards the light at the end of the tunnel, he noticed the tunnel slowly getting darker. And colder. Mother... The cold was making him feel sicker. It stiffened his muscles. It feels so cold... As much as he wanted to escape, his body was starting to give. He was slowing down. I can't go on...

Ethan reached the end of the tunnel. But waiting for him outside was a snowfield that seemed to stretch out into infinity. It wasn't any warmer, either. In fact, the wind was blowing, freezing the young trainer up even more.

But Ethan swore he could see Fire in the distance. He crawled faster towards him, trying desperately to hold onto any hope he had left. As he got closer, he noticed that Fire didn't seem to have any injuries. He just looked cold... and sad...

"Fire!"

But there was no response. Instead, Fire tossed out a Pokéball and to Ethan's horror, out came a Venusaur, blue-grey and frostbitten just like Bobby and tears poured out of his remaining eye. Despite this, Ethan instinctively stood, managing to balance on his remaining leg, and sent out Asher. His Pokéball reported that he had 6 HP left. "Don't die, Asher...!" Ethan pleaded.

Venusaur threw itself as Asher, somehow, dealing only 1 HP of damage, before collapsing into a lifeless heap. Asher did not react. "Fire?" Ethan asked, "What's going on?" But Fire just silently tossed out another Pokéball and out came a mangled, frostbitten Blastoise, sporting similar injuries to Lyra's Blastoise. Before Ethan could even command Asher to even attempt to use any moves, the Blastoise rammed into Asher, before becoming disorientated, stumbling off to the side, and taking its last breath. "Why are you doing this?" Ethan demanded, "You're just making both our situations worse!" Fire remained silent, sending out his next Pokémon, Charizard, which looked to be an even worse state than Venusaur or Blastoise. It immediately charged forward and whipped Asher with its tail, spun around backwards a bit, then collapsed to the floor, its already weak tail flame going out completely. "Fire... stop! Please!" Ethan begged, "Your Pokémon are dying! You're dying!" He had noticed that Fire's left arm was wasting away and so was the left side of his face. Fire did not answer. Instead, he sent out his Snorlax. Ethan could swear that Snorlax had been attacked by something, not just frostbitten. Snorlax leant forward and slashed Asher with its claws, before falling flat on its back, completely silent, completely unmoving. Clearly, it wasn't just sleeping. "Fire, what is wrong with you?" Ethan quietly groaned. Fire, with the skin of his right arm and the left side of his face peeling off, blankly tossed out his next Pokémon, Espeon. Ethan was actually starting to feel nauseous because of how badly mangled it was. It charged at Asher and headbutted him with a sickening crack, before dropping limply to the ground, its already exposed skull now showing deep cracks. "Fire..." Ethan muttered before trailing off. Fire was losing even more skin from his face and part of his skull was exposed on the bottom-left. His right hand had fallen off and purple pulp dripped from a wound on the back of his left arm. To Ethan's horror, Fire used his other arm to sent out his final Pokémon - Pikachu.

Pikachu wasn't just frostbitten and mangled by Arceus-knows-what, but it came out with what could only be described as a ragged scream, much like the Celebi from earlier. It stared at Ethan and Asher with two big, gaping black holes for eyes and a smile that stretched from one end of its face to the other, its unsettlingly large mouth filled with pointy, spaced-out teeth. Ethan shivered in terror. Not only was Fire's last Pokémon an absolute abomination, but Asher only had 1 HP left and only one faint ember remained of his once brightly burning collar of flames.

The Pikachu began to surround itself in shadows. Then the shadows circling it also circled around Asher. The two Pokémon screamed in pain. And then they both collapsed, completely dead.

Ethan looked in horror at the fallen Pokémon. Then he looked at Fire. His right arm and left leg were completely gone. All but the upper-right portion of his face had been completely stripped to the bone. Purple gore bled through his shirt and vest and stained his cap. "It's over..." Fire muttered in a ragged, deathly voice, sending a freezing chill down Ethan's spine.

Ethan's vision went completely white. Celebi's horrifying screech ringed in his ears once again. Ethan felt like he couldn't move. He felt unbearable cold and pain. He tried to scream, but either no sound came out, or it was drowned out by the screeching. Eventually, his vision went black and the screeching faded out.

Previous Chapter Lyra's version of events.

Continue as Ethan Continue as Lyra

[capricornwriter5]

You are the one - Chapter 26

Pairing: Bang Chan x female OC; Lee Know x female OC

Genre: au (high shool, college), love triangle, fluff, angst, smut, from friends to lovers. ⚠️Warning: soft drugs

Words: 5k

Summary: Bang Chan and Jasmine have been best friends for as long as they can remember. With little time to finish high school, they both begin to develop romantic feelings. However, family situations and communication issues force them to move away. Once in college, they decide to try to regain the friendship they had. As Bang Chan sees the opportunity to finally be with the girl he has always loved, his friend Lee Know, who had been studying in England, returns home and the connection he develops with Jasmine is undeniable. Can the chemistry and attraction with Lee Know outweigh a tender first love and memories of years of friendship between Bang Chan and Jasmine?

Disclaimer: I named the character Jasmine (Minnie for Chan 🥰) because I love that name. Besides, it’s easier if we want to see Chan saying cute names (it’s better than just Y/N, I think) but you can totally picture yourselves in the story, that’s the idea.

Chapter 26 - YOU are the one

That night, the doctor authorized Chan to go for a walk, the boy was about to lose it due to all the time he stayed inside the room. As expected, Jaz followed him, and soon they were in one of the hospital's gardens. They must go slowly since Jaz's leg was still not fully healed, and depending on the movement she made, the pain did not let her continue. Of course, Chan was extraordinarily careful, he hadn't stopped watching the floor, as he made sure the girl was okay and there was nothing dangerous for her. 

“When we get to that bench in front of the fountain, we won't walk anymore.”

Jaz laughed as she knew Chan wanted to lift her up, he had already tried, and since she wouldn't let him, he had gently taken her arm and helped her with each step.

"There's something there, Minnie, be careful."

Jaz stopped, and looking at what her best friend pointed at, she burst out laughing. "Chris! It's literally three leaves on top of each other."

"That can be dangerous, Jasmine!"

"Are you seriously gonna be like this because of a cut on my leg?"

“Of course I do! Besides, you're worse than me, you won't even let me take my pills by myself.”

"Because you forget it, just as you forgot to leave the house with your coat."

“That's not important, we made a promise. Don't you remember it anymore? You'd remind me to wear a sweater, just as I'd remind you to turn off the stove.”

Jaz smiled while she lost herself in her best friend's eyes.

She perfectly remembered when she went to pick him up at night from the university. She was worried that Chan was going to get sick because of the rain and, as usual, she left the stove on.

However, now that they talked about promises, the girl remembered Chan reproaching himself for the other promise they had made. Sighing, she tried to forget what had happened, but Chan didn't let her, and taking her hand, he walked with her until they reached the bench where they could sit together.

“Minnie, what did I tell you on that bridge? Please, tell me." He asked cupping her face. "I beg you, I can't bear any more misunderstandings between us."

"You asked me how much longer I was going to haunt you and if I would finally disappear." Jaz had a hard time going on, she didn't want to, but Chan's caress on her cheek convinced her to go on. "You asked me to leave, I already had done it many times." Silently, Jasmine wiped her face with the back of her hand, but Chan knew how to interpret her silence, he knew there was something else and begged her to tell him. "You said that there was no love or trust left between us."

“I haven't stopped dreaming about you since we broke up, and in each dream, you leave, in none have I been able to make you stay. It's not you who torments me, it's not knowing what to do. I've known you all my life, and still, I can't figure out how to keep you from leaving. I wasn't talking about myself when I said that there was no longer trust or love. I told you once, and I'll say it for the rest of our lives, Minnie. I will wait for you as long as it takes."

Chan had not stopped caressing the girl's face nor had he lowered his gaze for a second, he needed Jaz to listen to him and believe what he was saying. He was already tired of keeping everything to himself, he would take the risk and take the reins of the matter.

“I've never wanted you to let me go, Minnie, much less have I wanted to try to forget you. Yes, I tried to learn to live without you, but I wasn't even close to get it because I kept waiting for you, I've been waiting for us. I tried to distract myself with work and drinking, but it was useless, you were always there. I saw you in everything, little doll, and how not to if you are my whole life? You always have been." He said moving a little closer and seeing that her eyes were full of tears listening to him, he kissed her forehead. “I don't care if I have to make you fall in love with me again, if we have to start from scratch, I don't care, Minnie. I just want to be with you. I think one of my biggest mistakes was waiting for you to tell me what to do, but do you know what I thought?" He asked looking into the eyes that he loved so much. “If I can get my best friend, the most precious girl of all, the best person in the world to give me a chance before, I can do it again. Even if you decide to do it when we're both old and white-haired. If the last thing I see in my life is your smile getting closer before you kiss me, it will all have been worth it."

Jaz couldn't stop several tears from falling and her face lighting up with a smile, Chan had always been very sweet, but never like that night.

"You don't have to tell me anything yet, Minnie, I'm going to fight for us and for what we have. I know we still have something"

"I broke up with Minho." Jaz whispered still feeling Chan's breath, they were really close. “When you and I decided to part at Changbin's party, that night everything changed for me. As much as I tried to get things to work with Lee Know, I never really got it. Everything reminded me of you, and little by little, I missed you more and more. A love like ours is not forgotten, Chris, it doesn't fade, not when we have given our hearts like you and I did. I don't want another relationship, I want you. I love my Australian, my athlete, my architect, my best friend, my love. You are the one, Chris, you always have been."

"I love you, Little doll, I love you with all my forces and I'll do it until my last breath."

Closing his eyes to enjoy that dream that was finally coming true, Chan kissed Jaz again. After not being able to show her how much he loved her with a kiss, the boy could lose himself in the softness of the girl's lips again. Jasmine's life also changed when she felt Chan kissing her. All that time feeling that things were not going well was only because she did not have him by her side, not like she had really dreamed since she could remember. But there he was, the tender, romantic, sentimental, honest, and affectionate boy who had accompanied her all her life was showing her with a single kiss that he was just as in love as she was.

At that moment, both felt that they lacked nothing to be happy. It had taken them a long time to get to that point, but Chan and Jaz dared to face what they felt and give themselves another chance, start from scratch if necessary, they really didn't care as long as they were together.

"I missed you, Minnie." He whispered, wrapping his arms around her and letting the girl rest her head on his chest. "I'm not going to let you go again."

 *******************

Fortunately, the hospital where they were staying was one of the best in the entire country, so comfort was indisputable. In addition, the fact that Chan's parents were so wealthy reflected on their son's health, they spared no expense and asked for their son to be moved to a room where he not only had attention at any time he needed it, but also where Jaz could be with him and get the same attention.

That was how they both could choose between lying for hours in a huge bed, sitting in one of the ridiculously comfortable and expensive armchairs, or simply spending time in the waiting rooms of the hospital wing where the boy was hospitalized.

After their walk in the garden, they returned to the room and sat together in one of the armchairs, Chan opened his arms, waiting with a smile for the girl to come closer, something that of course happened.

“Chris, can I ask you something and you promise to answer me?”

"Baby, you can ask for whatever you want."

"What meeting did you have with your father on the day of the school activity?"

"I knew you were going to ask me that." As he made that comment, Jaz noticed Chan's ears turning red. “Dad had organized a dinner for me to meet his senior partners. A few days ago, I had agreed to work with him on a project, he wanted me to design a new office and then take care of other things, but not before meeting the rest of the team.”

"Sorry, I had no idea. Did that cause you a discussion with him?"

“No, precious, don't worry, I explained to him that something important had come up. He just sent me three audios screaming, I think we are improving." He joked, but seeing Jaz's seriousness, he cleared his throat. “There's gonna be another dinner, everything will be fine. This time I won't miss it. Unless you want to spend the night in the car with me again.”

Trying to keep a serious face was impossible, so the girl laughed while Chan hugged her tightly. Even though he still didn't feel well, the energy he had was devoted to her.

“You must get well fast, Chris, fast enough so that we can get out of here and go home. Although, you haven't even told me what you want to do. Your parents asked you to come back home. They said you'd be more comfortable and closer to the hospital." 

Chan was silent, thinking about the advantages of staying at his parents' house; however, although they were right and that it could be more convenient, it was not what he had thought. Unless…

"What do you want to do?"

"Me? Chris, it's not about me."

“For me, it is about you. If we go to my parents' house, will you feel comfortable? Because if it's not like that, we can go back to the apartments and…”

"Okay, okay, hold your horses, mister." She said placing her index finger on Chan's lips. “First of all, if we go back, there won't be “apartments”, there will be only ONE because I have to take care of you and we won't be apart. Also, I'll be happy as long as I'm with you. I already told you, I'm not going to leave you alone." Getting a little closer, she touched Chan's lips and kissed him so tenderly that the girl couldn't help but laugh when she saw the enchanted look he had. "But if you ask my honest opinion, your parents won't be happy if they don't see you, at least while you recover."

“What about your parents? If we stay here, you'll be able to see them more often. I heard she'll return to work in this hospital.”

Jaz nodded, feeling happy and relieved to know that her mother was going back to work where she had been happy, for that was where her friends were. She would also be closer to the psychologist, which would help her to regain a little control of her life. Furthermore, she could spend more time with her mother and make sure that her process was adequate.

"And your dad," Chan mentioned delicately raising her face. “He came back to live around here, he's alone, Minnie." 

Jaz's look showed the astonishment that caused her, she frankly knew absolutely nothing about her father or the type of life he had led since she had left home. In her mind, her father had a dream family with his new baby and the woman who had stolen his heart and sanity to such an extent that he leave his old family. But that image was far from being the real one.

“I didn't know you had gone to visit the baby. Your father told me a while ago. Minnie, did you do it by yourself?"

Neither of them wanted any more secrets between them, and even though they had kept many things between them, that afternoon they began to talk like the best friends they had always been.

“I went while she was hospitalized, but I didn't want to talk to dad, much less with his girlfriend. But their daughter, I mean…she was just a baby, I felt terrible when mom told me she was sick. I thought about asking you to come with me, but…”

"You didn't want to see your dad and me in the same place," Chan added, sure that was the reason, and Jaz confirmed it with a nod. "There's nothing to worry about, Minnie, your dad says that the baby is much better."

"And what about him? Is he fine?"

“Do you want me to tell you, baby? Wouldn't you rather talk to him directly?"

“It'll be three years since Dad and I last sat down to talk together. It's going to be awkward."

"Maybe, but just at the beginning. I'm sure once you start talking and releasing a little bit of everything you've stored, things will flow."

"Do you think he wants to?"

“Little doll, your dad didn't last a minute to leave the house in the middle of the night to help you as soon as you called him. All he's waiting for is for you to feel ready to get close again. That doesn't mean that you'll turn the page and forget everything that happened so easily, but at least you'll be able to start the recovery process that you need."

Knowing Jaz for so many years proved Chan right, what she needed was not to continue ignoring her father, but to face what had happened, talk to him, and then decide the type of relationship she had with him from now on. The last years had been really difficult, the girl had tried to survive on pure instinct after leaving home. The first few months she had always had Bang Chan with her, and only for that Jasmine endured being away from home, away from her parents, and facing every problem on her own. But then everything had gone uphill.

Same for Chan, who was getting more and more overloaded with work, enough to not even be able to listen when his body demanded that he stop because he couldn't take it anymore. Before, he used to have Jaz constantly reminding him to take care of himself, eat well, rest, and make time for himself, but the time he had to manage alone had been disastrous for his physical and mental health.

"How have you been feeling these days? And… and I'm not exactly talking about dehydration and weakness. You've been sober for several days."

Just hearing that question, Bang Chan lowered his face and avoided Jaz's gaze. The shame of having to accept his alcohol dependence didn't let him talk about it without feeling terribly bad about himself.

“Chris, no,” Jasmine whispered, meeting her best friend's gaze and taking his hands. "You don't have to be ashamed of that, I'm not gonna judge you, I never would."

“Minnie, I don't feel like I did before. It has been like this for a long time, more than I'd like to accept. I…shit... it's hard to say this out loud. I feel bad enough just thinking about it to say it, but…I don't want to end up like mom.”

"That's not gonna happen," Jaz assured him, sounding more confident than ever before. 

"How do you know? You literally picked me off the floor."

“Because I know what you're capable of when you set your mind to something. What happened that night doesn't matter, forget about it and continue being the wonderful man you are. There's no one more responsible than you, more dedicated, or more disciplined. If you want to get out of this, you'll make it." Closing his eyes, Chan received Jaz's sweet kiss on his forehead. “Do you want to talk about it? The boys say that at home you don't talk to anyone."

It was enough to open up a bit for the conversation to flow on its own, Bang Chan didn't even have to make an effort to think of what to say to his best friend. Both had had that unique connection since they were kids. The other's company represented so much consolation and trust that it allowed them to express what they felt and even what they feared.

That was how Chan and Jaz talked for hours about what Chan felt when he drank, or why he did it. The guy was also honest about the reasons why he was looking to drown himself in work. He was aware that they were problems and attitudes that he had been dragging along for quite some time, but that had been propelled in the last year.

Later, when the nurses asked Chan to lie down, Jaz was by his side, making sure he took all his medications and was comfy enough. That night would be the first that Jaz would not sleep with him, since Chan's mother wanted to be with him.

“You'll come tomorrow, right, Minnie?”

"Chris, of course I'll come tomorrow and every day after that." She replied laughing.

"How's your leg, is it hurting?"

"Just a little."

“Better stay at home and rest, please. At least until the afternoon. You never sit still, when you are here you want to help me do everything and the wound can reopen."

"But…"

“We still have many more mornings to wake up together.”

"They will never be enough." Jaz said before closing her eyes and taking her time to kiss him again.

"Good night, little doll. I love you."

Chan watched her leave the room, and as Jaz was about to close the door behind her, she turned to blow her a kiss. Finally, she left with a smile on her face thinking about how easily Chan blushed.

************

Jasmine was just closing the door to go look for her mother, but she met her father, as he had been talking to Chan's mother.

"Oh honey, hello!" said the woman. “I'm so glad you finally agreed to take some rest, you've taken care of my son non-stop since day one. I have no way to thank you."

"Ma'am, you don't have to, I'll always be there for anything Chris may need." She replied with a sweet smile. “He's waiting for you. I hope you're ready, he just discovered a new series and will make you watch it all. Get ready for hours and hours of architectural explanations of old buildings.”

Chan's mother sighed and then laughed thinking about how passionate her son was when it came to architecture. After an affectionate goodbye to Jaz and her father, the woman left them alone. For a few seconds, daughter and father looked at each other without knowing what to say. They hadn't had much time to be alone since they had seen each other again, the relationship they had now was so different from the one they had had all their lives that the pain couldn't be more intense. However, deep down, really deep down, they felt some relief now that they could at least look at each other without Jazmine demanding that he disappeared.

“I guess you're looking for your mom. She was here just a couple of minutes ago. She's with a patient in the ER."

"Oh, I see."

“If it doesn't bother you, I can take you home. You know that sometimes those emergencies can last for hours.”

"I can wait for her."

Seeing the man's disappointed look was like looking at herself in a mirror. That same expression had constantly been on her face since she left home. The two of them were too similar, and not only physically, since Jaz was like a copy of him, but they had very similar personalities, that's why they got along so well.

"You already ate? No, forget it, of course you did. Chan wouldn't let you go without eating…”

"Actually, I haven't..." Jaz responded, letting herself be carried away by the longing she felt to spend at least a few more minutes with her father.

Without a doubt, that was the best thing the professor could have heard, as he immediately offered his daughter to eat something together in the hospital cafeteria. At first, the conversation focused on Chan's recovery. They were both too careful with what they said, especially Jaz, who was looking for safe grounds, small talk good enough to keep chatting.

“Do you continue painting or is the study consuming you?"

"I haven't painted in a long time, the last thing was your car."

"My car?" he asked with a surprised look.

"I don't know how it happened, all of a sudden I had drawn it and was sending Chris a picture."

"Can I see it?"

“You own a better painting, the one you bought at the gallery.”

“I knew it was yours even if it didn't say your name, princess. They were the colors you liked, green tones were always your favorites, and that painting was full of them.”

“I've got the same opinion from many professors. They even nicknamed me the green painter. Many of them don't even know my name." The man heard his daughter laugh again and the lump in his throat began to torture him. “Do you know why I like green tones so much?”

"I asked you many times, but you always told me not to bother you." He said, remembering perfectly how his daughter wrinkled her nose and pushed him.

“Your eyes… it was my way of painting you in everything I did, of feeling close to you. But soon that wasn't enough, it didn't matter that I painted with the same green as your eyes, dad, you weren't there.

"Jaz..."

“I tried changing colors, I tried every one of them, every shade, but it didn't work. I changed the green palette for the brown one, but I saw your hair, then red, but I remembered your favorite shirt. I thought the blues would help, but I was reminded of our beach house. The purple didn't help either, that was the color of your office.”

The man heard her speak and saw how Jaz's tears kept falling but the girl didn't even flinch, sadly she had already gotten used to that.

“It took me a lot of work to understand you, I spent whole nights thinking about how you could stop loving mom. In fact, I don't think I can ever understand that, I guess some feelings change, I guess it's normal to fall in love again. What happened between you and mom is something between the two of you, I can't spend every day of my life wondering."

“Feelings don't change, princess. I was an idiot who didn't know how to value who loved me, I took everything for granted.

“Life's too short, one day you wake up and everything you thought you had is gone. I don't know how to get close to you again, I don't even know if I can trust you again, but I know that I don't want to open my eyes and have someone so important to me disappear forever. I want to look at the traces of green tones in my paintings again and smile, not cry."

Jaz's father didn't expect his daughter to agree to have some kind of communication again, he could bet his life that had only happened because Chan had had something to do with it. He was the only person Jaz listened to, always had been. Although the girl had been very close to her father since she was little, at the end of the day the only advice she blindly followed was that of her best friend.

He knew it would be the slowest process he would have to face in his life, but as long as he got his daughter back, he was willing.

************

The next few days in the hospital passed uneventfully, Chan was getting better; however, no one could expect his nutrient deficiency to disappear so quickly. Besides, he still had to deal with anemia. What helped him a lot emotionally speaking was when he was able to return home. He and Jaz had agreed to stay at Chan's parents' house at least until the doctor allowed him to play sports again, and then he could recover a bit of normalcy in his life. The boys called every day asking for Chan, they also made video calls and took care of sending him things from time to time. If they hadn't visited him, it was only because they wanted to give the couple some privacy.

Taking advantage of the fact that the day was beautiful because spring had already entered, Chan and Jaz went out to one of the terraces. The couple had been watching some videos on Chan's cell phone when suddenly the girl remembered something and literally jumped up, scaring her best friend.

"Chris, I've had something for you for some time!"

Without letting him open his mouth to ask what she was talking about, Jasmine ran to find something among all the things her father had brought her. She had been so immersed in taking care of Chan that she had forgotten a present.

Back next to his best friend, she placed a box on his legs. "Merry Christmas, my love, a little late, tho..."

Chan immediately remembered that he also had bought something for her, but left it in his apartment. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw that, once again, they had done the same thing. 

With a beautiful smile on his face, Chan saw the book that Jaz had chosen for him, who else could have found him something that was totally to his liking if not her?

For a few moments, he looked at the book, but before doing anything else, he closed it again and taking her hands, he spoke. “You thought of me even when we weren't talking, you bought me a Christmas present even when you didn't want to celebrate it. Minnie, I love you." He said before taking his time to kiss her. “You told me that I could ask whatever I wanted, so…I think now's the time.”

Chan's gaze got unduly serious, he had gone from having an incomparable love smile to looking at her with total solemnity. As a consequence, Jaz experienced such a terrible dizziness that she swore she was about to throw up. 

"Minnie, are you okay? You turned pale."

“Of course I turned pale, Christopher! I'm not used to you talking to me so seriously. Before I had to beg you to talk, now you just change from the cheesiest person to the most serious one.”

"I'm not even going to try to say I'm not cheesy, because I am, and I'm not ashamed."

"See what I'm telling you?"

Chan found it adorable to see her so nervous, so he ended up wrapping her in his arms and covering her face with kisses. After making Jaz nearly choke between hugs and kisses, he laid her comfortably on his chest, and placing his hands on her tummy, he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Feeling better? You're no longer pale, now you only have rosy cheeks.”

"You scared me, you look very serious."

"What did you think I was gonna tell you?"

"I don't know..." Chan didn't see the girl's face turn even redder from the madness she had thought. "But tell me, what did you want to ask?"

"Do you have something to tell me, something related to Germany?"

Like a spring Jasmine straightened up so that her back was no longer to her best friend, but that she could see his face. She looked for something in his features that would tell her that she had misheard, but she couldn't find it, for the boy was waiting anxiously for the answer.

"Why do you ask that?"

“Lee Know…”

"Fucking idiot." Jaz thought as she vowed to kick his ass the next time she saw him.

"Minnie, come on, tell me."

"I'll tell you, but you can't get angry or claim anything from me."

“Little doll… what did you do?”

"Promise." Jaz didn't speak any other word until Chan had given her his word. “They offered me a scholarship. I could study a master's degree while I do an internship in Germany with the possibility of staying working there. Apparently, a professor recommended me, I didn't know, I just got the letter. I left it at Minho's and well… that's what happened.”

"Minnie, that's amazing! Why did you reject it?"

"For the same reason that you refused to study in England and you didn't tell me." She replied causing Chan's cheeks to blush. "I didn't want to be away from you."

"Minnie, you've done a lot for me, let me make it up to you, please." He begged taking both her hands. "Don't reject that scholarship, you can write another letter, talk to your professor, I'm sure he'll help you, but DO NOT reject it."

“Chris, don't ask me that. These months that I hardly saw you were awful for me, I don't want to go there again."

"You won't." He assured caressing her face. “You won't, baby, I'll go with you. We'll both fall a semester behind, we'll finish our studies at the same time, then we'll leave.”

"But Chris..."

“Minnie, we owe it to each other, we've waited to be together too long, there have been many people and situations between us, please give us this chance, let's go alone. Let's live together, away from everything else, it's what we've always wanted.

“I don't know if I can still recover the scholarship and…”

“I'll take care of that, I promise. Let me do this for you, for us."

“What will happen to your studies? With the family business? Now that you're trying to help your parents, are you sure that…?”

"Minnie, Minnie, don't worry so much." He asked with a sweet smile. “My parents will be delighted if we move to Germany, that's where they want to expand the company, I can help them. And regarding my studies, later will be time to work as an architect.”

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." He affirmed kissing her forehead. "I love you and I want to be with you, we'll solve the rest."

The last words were barely audible to Jasmine, as they were lost in a kiss that spread out quite a bit. Bang Chan kissed his best friend for so long that it not only took her breath away, but she also smiled mischievously at the sight of her red lips. If he hadn't made love to her yet, it was only because they still had to follow certain medical care, and physical activity was strictly prohibited by Chan for at least a couple more weeks.

Once he let her catch her breath, he pulled her back to his chest and trapped her in a hug, he made the cutest and most adorable sounds, he had dreamed of having Jaz with him again for so long, he still couldn't think that was real.

"I've never seen you so pale... you actually freaked out, little doll." He teased tickling her.

“I already told you, it was your fault. I still can't get used to hearing you talk so seriously. I had no idea what you could tell me…”

"I think you did have an idea and that's why you reacted like that."

"Shut up..." 

"You thought I was going to ask you to get married, right?"

"Chris!"

"Come on! Answer." He begged, tickling her so much that he finally made her admit it. Turning her around a bit, Chan was able to look into her eyes. "Of course I'm going to ask you to be my wife, I've never doubted that." He said adjusting a lock of her hair. "And I'm so in love with you that I could do it right now, but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is very corny and wants to plan something for you that you'll never forget."

Definitely, the new Bang Chan in front of her, so honest and direct left Jasmine speechless. But the truth was that not only he was madly in love, Jaz felt the same, and everything he said made her smile like never before.

"My boyfriend? I don't remember you asking me to come back with you…” The girl joked, crossing her arms.

“Oh, I know that! I'm also going to ask you that, but I told you I'm cheesy, so you'll have to wait that I can do more than walk from my room to the garden.”

"I can wait as long as it takes." She responded with a smile

To be continued... 🐺

✮Prev. chapter

✮ Last chapter: soon

[lord-radish]

It's almost 7 in the morning after I woke up at midnight, and I have a lot on this weekend so I may be promising too much, but

I think with the end of Thirteen's run on Doctor Who, I'm finally going to knuckle down and write Yaz's Extraordinarily Bisexual Playlist.

The goal of it is to explore potential romantic feelings with Ryan, Dan, The Doctor and an OC (who may not be an OC, but a canon-compliant character), paired with a story about grand larceny and deceit, set to a Spotify algorithm that's way out of whack for Yaz's liking but which begins to sync up with her life as she changes over time.

It's a real-world AU, Ryan and Graham run an activity centre for low-income youths and Yaz uses what standing she has on the police force to help them secure better funding and better accommodate the centre in the community. Through that, she meets Dan and the Doctor at a support group held at the centre, and the plan is for the different relationship vibes to ebb and flow over the course of in-story months. Yaz shares a tender moment with Ryan at a Bonfire Night picnic, she goes to dinner with Dan for Valentine's Day. The Doctor pops up all over the place in her dark blue Honda Accord, and Yaz has a great time whenever she does.

Endgame couple should be pretty obvious if you know my AO3 account - which I'm almost certain you don't - and with the title referring to a playlist, it's also going to be a songfic-lite with lyrics opening and closing each chapter. Some songs I wanna use are:

1000 Times - Sara Bareilles ("kiss me goodnight, like a good friend might")

Gray or Blue - Jaymay ("Your eyes are either gray or blue, I'm never close enough to say")

Subway Song - Julianne Zachirou ("Sway left, sway right, slow-dancing in the middle of the subway") + others!

I'm thinking 24 chapters if I can help it.

[boredsuburbanhousecat]

I’m pregnant and it’s weird.

Is this okay? Am I allowed to say that I’m not having a good time? Today’s the first day in the eight weeks that I’ve been growing a LITERAL SEPARATE, SOON-TO-BE-SENTIENT ENTITY that I actually feel between 60-70% like my regular, non-impregnated self and it has been BLISS. But the fact that I have seven and a half more months of just feeling like total shit is aggressively uncool and I am like, not happy about it.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m stoked to have a kid in less than a year. I’m so excited to be pregnant. And it happened like, really quickly! Like on the literal first cycle we tried! Which is a fucking miracle considering how many drugs (both pharmaceutical and otherwise) are in the combined history of me and my husband! And lo and behold, when we had our first real sonogram last week at 7w3d we had what the doc called a “perfect bean”! But man oh fucking man, it has been an experience and I am not having fun yet.

I’m not throwing up all the fucking time because my mother programmed me when I was younger not to vomit under any circumstances (there’s a lot to unpack there and we will absolutely not getting into it now), so for the past three weeks I’ve just seesawed through this odd feeling of constant nausea mixed with rampant hunger for NOTHING because my food aversions are apparently to everything other than chicken tenders, marinara sauce, and cheese. Yes, I’m eating a chicken parm grinder right now, and yes, it is a GODDAMN REVELATION.

The fact that I’m also unmedicated for the first time in this chapter of my adult life is downright laughable. I finally got the right diagnosis and meds last fall after pumping myself with every SSRI for nearly a decade wondering why none worked - PLOT TWIST, IT WAS ADHD THE WHOLE TIME!!!! - and knowing that my best self, my full potential, the version of me that I have worked so hard at for so long to finally arrive at, is no longer available to me, is deeply upsetting. Do I have a lot more tools in my toolbox now than a few years ago when I was last off meds? Most definitely! And the past few years of very intense therapy have also been extraordinarily helpful in getting me closer to “normal” (or at least preventing me from reverting back to being a fucking waking nightmare). But now, having to not only deal with the neurochemical con job known as my unmedicated brain PLUS the additional dose of hormones making me extra sleepy and stupid, is extremely annoying.

I’m also up for a mega promotion this year and being 50% less “on” than usual is truly not ideal. Somehow nobody is as mad about this as me???? I am feeling a gross sense of injustice and I am very very mad.

Anyway the last time I truly kept a journal was when I was a ~cool teen~ on tumblr in college back in 2012 and while the landscape has certainly changed since then, the best and easiest way for me to express myself has always been on this platform. So here we go again.

WELCOME TO MY UTTERLY UNHINGED PREGNANCY BLOG.

IT’S WEIRD HERE.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

Head Empty,

only the these two dummies––

THAT RIGHT HAND CLASPED AROUND HER WAIST AND HE IS PRESSING HER TO HIMSELF AS IF HOLDING HIS LIFE, HIS WORLD, HIS ENTIRE UNIVERSE IN HIS ARMS;

THE ROSE PATTERNS ON HER DRESS;

RIGHT-HANDED, BUT HOLDS THE GUN WITH HIS LEFT HAND, AND OF COURSE, THE GUN’S SAFETY IS ON;

HER HEAD RESTING ON HIS SHOULDER, HIS CHIN PRESSING CLOSER TO HER HEAD;

—— like who on earth holds a hostage like that— 🤣 Why are you fooling you dummies LOL 😭

This reminds me of The NW Commander from S2 CH 17-18,

—

Throughout first half of S2 CH 17,

Victor x MC be like: We don’t know each other, strictly a business relationship~

NW Commander be like: Would you two drop the act already. You are terrible actors.

—— A FEW HOURS LATER ——

Victor x MC be like: We can’t live without each other, literally.

NW Commander be Like: Ah, there they are——

[writing this between class break so couldn’t photoshop, so this will have to do LOL 🤡]

And then in CH 18, we land here:

MC: Let me stay in the same room with Victor.

NW Commander: Miss MC, you’re very humourous. Do you take us for a hotel?

—— sorry Chief, that’s Victor x MC for you 🫠🫠

—— anyway, fingers crossed for the chapter update, and before that~

“The music in the hall wafts clearly to this quiet corner. Melodic, romantic, tender; even the aura surrounding Victor has softened.

Though my dance steps are weak and messy, I still steadily carry on with the waltz in this small space in his embrace.

I raise my head to peek at his expression, meeting his extraordinarily deep and serious gaze.

–– it’s as though he is holding his entire tiny universe in his arms.”

—

[lady-riel]

“Sworn His Shadows Sang” Chapter 18 - Gwynriel fic

Chapter 18 summary: Gwyn and Az go to bed. (Have you noticed I'm appallingly bad at chapter summaries?)

Read on A03

Previous chapters linked here

Original summary: One evening Azriel asks Gwyn to eat dinner with him. Kisses, hurt/comfort, smut, bathtub fun, and more ensues. Also Gwyn has more ties to the Autumn Court than she realizes.

Warnings for mentions of past SA, flashbacks, NSFW smut.

~~~~~~~+++++++~~~~~~++++++++~~~~~~~+++++++~~~~~~~

Chapter 18

Entering his bedroom and closing the door behind him, Azriel watched as Gwyn bit her lip, standing in the middle of the room.

She huffed a laugh. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Her fingers twisted together.

Azriel crossed the room to her and picked up one of her hands and kissed the back.

“Nothing has changed,” he repeated, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles.

“Except that now you know. And now you know that I know.”

“And that makes you nervous?” he asked gently.

Gwyn bit her lip again. “I’m not sure exactly.” She glanced around the room, at the huge bed. “What…what do you want to do?”

Azriel could smell her nervousness. He kissed the back of her hand a second time.

“Can I hold you?”

A wide smile broke across her beautiful face. “Yes. Of course you can, Azriel.” She leaned up and kissed his lips, smoothing her hands down the hard planes of his chest. “I’m just going to wash my face. I’ll meet you in bed, okay?

He nodded, brushing a kiss across her brow.

By the time she came out of the bathing room, he had undressed down to his black undershorts and got into bed, leaning against the headboard.

Crossing the room, she asked him shyly, turning her back, “Will you untie my dress? I can’t reach them.”

Azriel rose to his knees on the bed and slowly unknotted the three ties in the back of her blue dress, dropping a kiss on her bare freckled back. It was so perfectly domestic, so extraordinarily intimate, that he had to bite down on the huge grin that threatened to overwhelm his face.

Gwyn shucked off the dress and, with her back still to him, put on her silk sleeveless nightgown that she had discarded the night before, left folded by the House, and then she slid into his bed.

Azriel gathered her to his bare chest, lying on their sides. His hands ran down her back, her arms, and he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

She watched him, a small smile on her face.

“I love you,” he whispered to her. Gwyn’s smile grew and shined like the sun.

“Azriel,” she murmured, almost to herself. Then in a clearer voice said, “I have loved you for so long it’s almost embarrassing.”

Emotion washed across his features in a wave, his eyes dark.

“Why is it embarrassing?” he asked teasingly.

“It was even before we started…you know…eating dinner together. Even before you started training us.”

His lips parted. “Really?” His tone was curious.

Gwyn nodded slowly. “I’ve had nightmares basically every night since—since it happened…the first year was particularly bad…and every night I woke up to you. Sometimes you would come in the dream itself, killing all those soldiers, and that would wake me out of it. Other times you wouldn’t be in the dream, like it had taken—taken a different turn…and I’d wake up terrified, but the memory of you would usually help calm me down.”

Her cheeks reddened. “I still have that cloak you wrapped me in,” she confessed. “I slept with it for months because it smelled like you. That also helped.”

Azriel’s eyes grew tender and he brushed a kiss over her forehead, watching her lashes flutter.

Gwyn swallowed, looking back up at him. “There’s something else, too.” She glanced down nervously, pressing her lips together, and Azriel dropped another kiss across her skin.

She swallowed again. “Promise me you won’t be mad?”

Confusion flitted across his face, and he said, “I promise, sweetheart.”

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn said, “I could feel you. Your emotions. I’d get angry when I wasn’t angry, or sad when I wasn’t sad, and I could tell it was you.”

Azriel’s brows were raised. “Why would you think I’d get mad about that? It doesn’t sound like you had any control over it.”

“No, I didn’t. It just seems kind of…invasive, someone knowing your feelings.” She glanced down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I think I probably know better than anyone in the world just how lonely you’ve been.”

He sucked in a breath, his eyes wide, vulnerable.

At that, Gwyn’s teal ones filled with tears. “I should have told you I knew you were my mate.” Her voice broke. “I was a coward for not telling you.”

Azriel shook his head violently. “You’re not. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

“I was,” she said quietly. “I was a coward. I was afraid of—of a lot of things. That you’d reject me. That you’d want Mor or Elain instead. I was afraid I’d freak out if I was touched. I was afraid of the mating frenzy.” She looked down. “I’m still afraid of the mating frenzy.”

“Oh, Gwyn love,” he said gently, “Can you tell me what you’re afraid might happen?”

“I don’t know…I mean, I know you’re not going to hurt me, I just—just—I don’t know, I don’t know what’s going to happen, what if something else is in control, what if it makes me say yes to something I’m not ready for, what if—” Her voice had turned frantic, tears sliding over her cheeks.

“Shhh,” he soothed her. “Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe, I promise it’s going to be okay.” He rubbed circles down her back and pressed kisses over her brow.

“Gwyn,” he said after her breathing slowed. “You gave me food months ago.”

She looked up at him, a knowing look in her eyes. “Yes, well, you refused to believe peaches would be good in a salad. Clearly I had to prove you wrong.”

Azriel’s lips quirked at that.

“Azriel, I accepted you as my mate a long time ago, even before that. You’re the only male I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only one I will ever love.” She pulled his hand from her back and placed it on her chest, over her heart. “You’re the only one it beats for.”

His eyes shone glassy with unshed tears, and his own heart counted out a wild rhythm in his chest until he thought it might break open.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

Gwyn smiled. “I love you, Azriel.”

He brushed his face against hers, nose against nose, forehead against forehead.

“Say it again.”

Her smile grew wider. “I love you, Azriel.”

He sighed, nuzzling her face once more. “You’re getting me off topic now,” he said with a grin. “Listen, sweetheart, last night we both knew we were mates and you had already accepted the mating bond.”

Gwyn nodded, wondering where he was going.

“Did anything we do last night scare you?”

“No, not at all.” She smiled. “It was perfect.”

“You came over and over again.”

Gwyn flushed, mumbling, “I remember.”

“You asked for the first time, and begged me for the second time, and took control for the third time.”

Gwyn’s face was the color of her hair now. She buried her face in her hands to hide it.

Azriel gently tugged her hands from her crimson face. “Sweetheart,” he said, “That was the mating frenzy.”

Shock crossed Gwyn’s face. “What?!”

“That was the mating frenzy,” he repeated softly.

“But—but—Nesta made it sound—”

He interrupted her. “Wait, you’re getting your information on the mating bond from Nesta?”

“What’s wrong with Nesta?” Gwyn demanded.

“There’s nothing wrong with her, I just don’t think you can compare our relationship to Nesta and Cassian’s.”

Gwyn twisted her lips, raising her brows at him.

“Go on, love,” Azriel said, “What were you going to say Nesta made it sound like?”

Gwyn was red again. “Like every minute of every day she has an uncontrollable urge to rip off all her clothes and, um, present herself to him.”

Azriel snorted. “Yeah, you can’t compare our relationship to theirs. For one, Nesta and Cassian were fucking before they had barely even kissed.”

Gwyn’s eyes went wide at that.

“Every mating bond is unique,” Azriel said, “Unique to the two people in it. One couple’s experience of the bond is different from another couple’s. Nesta certainly had her issues, but she didn’t have the kind of trauma that you did. And Cassian…Cass had a really shitty childhood, and I don’t mean to downplay that, but his childhood didn’t involve the level of violation that mine did.”

Gwyn leaned in closer to him at that, pressing her lips to the pulse in his neck.

“Their bond is a reflection of them,” Azriel said, “And ours is a reflection of us. You can’t compare the two.”

Gwyn stared at him, mulling his words. “That was really the mating frenzy?”

He nodded. “The beginning of it, at least. It may increase over time as you get more comfortable with it, but it’s never going to go beyond what you want. Moreover, even though the urge to mate can be strong, the urge to protect one’s mate is far stronger. For us, those two things are somewhat in conflict right now, but the urge to protect you is always going to win out. It’s always going to be more important to me that you feel safe.”

Gwyn chewed on her lip, and he could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“I think the part that scares me most is not knowing what’s going to happen, or what might happen.” She fiddled with the loose string of her nightgown’s closure where it dipped to a vee at her chest. “It’s why I liked your suggestions so much…I knew what we were going to do because we talked about it first.”

Azriel hummed. “I understand.” He dragged his lips across her brow, dropping kisses. “We can always talk about things first if you want.”

“It doesn’t always have to be before,” Gwyn said. “It can be…in the middle, too…like you did last night.”

A line appeared between Azriel’s brows as he tried to recall which detail she was referring to. “Which part do you mean, love?”

She flushed. “You’re going to make me say it?”

“No,” Azriel said as he shook his head, “I told you before, you don’t have to tell me anything until you’re ready to. But when you are, I would like to know. I want to know exactly what you liked. I want to know what things made you feel safe. So I can keep doing them.”

Her teal eyes glowed. “You’re a really good male, Azriel. You know that, right?”

He opened his mouth, and then closed it, swallowing. Gwyn picked up one of his hands and kissed the scarred palm. “You’re a really good male, Azriel,” she repeated slowly.

He just watched her. She kissed his palm a second time, then held it to her cheek. His thumb stroked softly over her cheekbone.

Gwyn bit her lip, then said, pink-cheeked, “The part near the end, when you asked if you could put a finger on my…” Her gaze flickered off to the side. “…clit.”

“Ah,” he murmured, “You liked that I asked for permission first?”

“Well…I guess so…but even just that you told me what was going to happen before you did it, especially when it was something new.” She wrapped and unwrapped the loose string around her finger. “But…aside from it making me feel safe, I also just…like it. I like hearing you talk about those things. I liked the suggestions not only because of the suggestions themselves but also…listening to you talk about them.” She watched Azriel’s growing smile. “Have I told you how much I love the sound of your voice?”

He shook his head. “Tell me.”

Gwyn grinned. “It’s the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. I love how rough and gravelly it is. The way it rumbles like thunder and I can feel the vibrations in my chest.” She looked up at him shyly, her face back to crimson. “Sometimes I can feel it in my clit, too.”

Azriel’s cock twitched at that.

“I could listen to you talk all day long,” Gwyn went on. “It’s my favorite sound in the world.” She paused, smiling at him. “Your voice feels like home to me. The same way your arms feel like home to me.”

Azriel inhaled sharply, burying his face in her hair. “You feel like home, too,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You have from the very first night we had dinner together, when we were walking down to the library afterwards and you slipped your hand into mine, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you had done it a million times before.”

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “You did tell me, sweetheart. You told me we were mates. Not in so many words, but in all sorts of small ways.” He brushed her hair back. “I’m sorry it took me so long to hear it.”

Gwyn's eyes were rimmed with tears. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

In Name Only

Chapter One: Till Death Do Us Part, You Were Unholy Right From the Start

Author’s Note. Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four.

All my work is 18+.

The thought of you is like a knife between the cracks of my ribs into the hollow of my chest, which is empty, for my heart is still in your hands. With every breath I take, every word I speak, the thought of you aches in the way that all beautiful things do. Like there are wings in my ribcage and roses in my skull. I didn't ask for this thing called love, and yet here I am anyway, unable to let go of you, and falling deeper and deeper still.- Calliopx

He’d promised Chani he wouldn’t be tender with her, Irulan knew. It was a given that he wouldn’t kiss her. He didn’t intend to go slowly, either, she assumed. He likely wanted it to be over with as fast as possible.

Traditionally, these sorts of things must be witnessed by a group of people. In this situation, it would probably be her father, the last emperor, Lady Jessica, and the Reverend Mother. However, Paul had refused to cooperate if they were present. He’d said he’d give them the sheets afterwards, and that one could listen at the door, but nothing beyond that.

Irulan wondered if he didn’t want anyone witnessing him betray Chani, his love, with whom he had lost a son only a few months prior.

She loved him, though. Irulan had fallen for him harder than she’d ever thought possible. But she wasn’t like Chani. Where Chani was dark, Irulan was pale with blonde hair and blue eyes. Where Chani was lithe and hard and muscular, Irulan was soft and curvy. Even in height, Chani towered over her.

She knew she wasn’t what Paul wanted in a wife, let alone what he found attractive, but she’d fallen in love with him anyway.

He hadn’t been at all what she’d expected of the man who overthrew her father. He’d always been kind to her, and he’d always been considerate. He listened when she spoke to him, and he seemed to truly understand the pressures and obligations she had grown up with, because he’d always had them, too.

And one day, he smiled at her, and everything fell into place:

She was in love with him.

Perhaps she was a fool.

It was to happen in her bedroom, the room she’d had since childhood. She expected it to be painful and horrible, especially because he didn’t want it with her.

She wanted it with him, but not like this. Never like this.

“Have you ever, um…” Paul swallowed. “Have you ever done this before?”

Irulan shook her head, staring at her hands folded in her lap.

Paul sighed softly and stood before her. “Will you lay down, please?”

Irulan obeyed, clutching the blankets tightly and wishing this could happen differently; wishing he loved her, too.

He pulled her nightgown up to her knees, spreading her legs apart with gentle hands and reaching between her thighs.

Paul’s fingers brushed against her center, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her as she stared at his face, her own flushed.

He wasn’t looking at her, instead choosing to watch the fabric of her nightgown shift with the movement of his hand as he stroked gentle fingers over her folds.

Much to her humiliation, she was wet; dreadfully so, in fact. She knew enough about this sort of thing to know that it would be easier the wetter she was, but she also knew that she was only in such a state because she loved him so.

But then, he was extraordinarily beautiful, so perhaps she could blame her arousal on that. Of course, that was only marginally better, but she’d vastly prefer he knew of her attraction to him than her love for him.

One was significantly worse, as far as vulnerabilities went.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, glancing up at her face for a brief moment. “I have to… prepare you, so it won’t hurt.”

Irulan said nothing, only nodded once to indicate she understood. She appreciated his consideration, she truly did, though she rather wished he’d be rough with her so she could despise him.

Things would be easier if she despised him.

He ran a finger over her folds and up to her clit, just barely brushing against it, and she had to look away from him. She couldn’t look at him. She felt as if she did, she’d explode. Or start sobbing. Or both.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid a finger inside of her, and started rubbing her clit with his thumb. She gasped a little, almost a whimper, then clamped her mouth shut, trying desperately not to make any noise. What he was doing to her felt exquisite, it truly did, and she felt awful for enjoying it so much, because she knew he wasn’t.

He asked, “are you alright?” and she nodded, the movement abrupt.

He said nothing in response, but she felt his gaze on her face as he began pumping his finger in and out of her, continuing to rub her clit. Irulan was forced to try to hold in her whimpers and gasps, but it was hard because it felt positively incredible, and after a short while, he added another finger, curling both digits upwards inside of her. His fingers were slender, but still thicker than her own, and they were far longer than her own, too; they reached deep inside of her, to places she hadn’t known she wanted touched.

It felt so good she hardly noticed the wet squelching noises that filled the room, mixing with the sound of the gasps and whimpers that escaped her no matter how hard she tried to keep them in.

She shouldn’t look at him while she came, she knew, but Paul was so close to her, and his fingers were inside of her, and she wanted him so badly that she couldn’t help herself. She looked at his face, the one that she loved so dearly, and her mouth fell open in a soft gasp.

He’s so beautiful, Irulan thought miserably as she fought the urge to raise her hips, her gaze flitting from his blue-blue eyes to the sharp lines of his jaw. God, he’s so beautiful, oh Paul-

After a few more minutes of him curling his fingers upwards with each thrust inside of her, his thumb swiping over her clit faster than she’d ever been able to manage on her own, she felt her orgasm nearing. She was wet enough for him to take her now, she knew, so why was he bothering bringing her to completion? What they were doing was out of necessity, not pleasure.

A few more rubs of her clit, however, and her musings flew from her mind, her fists clenching the bedding tightly.

Her toes curled and her legs shook, but still, she watched him. Paul -her husband; she trembled in delight at the thought- was looking at her with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of the situation.

She couldn’t stop her hips now, for their movements were beyond her control. Nor could she hold in the moans that escaped her throat despite her best efforts.

It was difficult enough to keep herself from professing her love for him, so she focused on that and allowed herself to moan as loudly as she needed to.

Finally, after a few more swipes over her clit and curled thrusts of his fingers, Irulan came with a scream.

Dazed and winded, she opened eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed when he asked, “still alright?” She nodded, unable to speak.

He had, after all, given her an orgasm stronger than she’d ever experienced in all her life.

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, kind, the way it always was when directed at her. “Are you ready?”

She wasn’t, really, not at all, or at least not emotionally, but she closed her eyes and said “go ahead.” It would hurt, she knew, but this was the only night she would get to have him, and so she would cherish every second.

Paul hiked her nightgown up her thighs, revealing her core, which was still dripping with arousal. He looked at her there as he rid himself of his trousers, pulling them over his hips.

My husband, she thought, in awe of him. His cock was long and hard and thick and perfect, and she wanted desperately to shower it in kisses, to take it in her mouth and learn to please him.

He watched her face as he lined himself up at her entrance before sliding in slowly, ever so slowly. Irulan inhaled sharply at his first thrust. He was longer and thicker than his fingers, and it stung.

To her astonishment, however, Paul groaned low in his throat once he was fully seated inside of her. He was panting softly, and his eyes were clenched shut.

I love you, she wanted to tell him. I love you, and I am yours, even if you are not mine.

He held still for several minutes, presumably to allow her to adjust, after which he began thrusting in and out of her with an agonizing slowness.

His jaw was clenched, and she wondered if it hurt for him, too, at first. But then, it wasn’t hurting her anymore, or at least not as much. He stretched her perfectly, she found, and she wanted more.

Irulan wished she could beg for him, beg him to fuck her, take her however he wanted, because he was clearly struggling to go slow, to be gentle. She didn’t, though. She may have fallen in love with him, but that didn’t mean he had to know.

Still, he rocked his hips into hers, and before long, she couldn’t have stopped herself from moaning if her life had depended on it. She watched his face, the sweat beading on his forehead, and she couldn’t  guess why, but he looked… lost, almost, like he was afraid.

Something in his eyes seemed to shift, though, and his thrusts quickened, making her moans increase in volume, echoing off the walls.

Paul snapped his hips her hers, clenching his eyes shut again and groaning, “fuck, you feel so good, I can’t- fuck-”

He didn’t finish his statement, but she understood what he meant:

I can’t hold back. I can’t stop.

She wondered if he wanted this, if he felt like they were meant for this, too, meant to have each other in this way, but he seemed to be enjoying it, at the very least, because he was gasping with each thrust, looking down at her body, and how it was moving underneath her nightgown; the way her full breasts were bouncing with each of his thrusts; the way she was looking at him, like she wanted more of him, everything he had to give her, and the way her hands were clutching the sheets so she didn’t reach up to touch him, and she wondered if he could see the desperation in her eyes, the love there. She hoped -prayed, really- that he wouldn’t recognize it for what it was.

Something in his eyes snapped as he watched her breasts bounce, and next thing she knew, Paul was first yanking his shirt over his head, then her nightgown, pushing her backwards on the bed and climbing up after her.

He gripped her breasts briefly, squeezing them before lowering himself to press his chest against hers, and- and-

And kiss her.

Paul was kissing her. Hungrily, desperately, with his hands in her hair, his lips moving over hers like he wanted to breathe her in.

She was shocked into stillness for a few heartbeats, but then she wrapped her arms around him and threaded her fingers through his hair, too, returning his kiss fervently and moaning into his mouth as he fucked her.

Something deep inside of Irulan’s bones sang.

Yes, it said in a whisper. This is how it was meant.

Their lips moved in time with the way he thrust into her, and it felt so good she thought she might die. He was stretching her perfectly. She didn’t know it could feel like this, could be like this, and she never wanted it to end.

Paul’s hand tightened in her hair as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, and when he sucked her bottom lip, she moaned, clutching at him.

He gripped her breasts, kneading them roughly in his hands as he kissed her, fucking into her harder. He held her close, and it was strange; passionate and desperate and starving in ways she wasn’t sure she’d ever be capable of understanding.

Somehow, he hit a particularly deep spot inside of her that left her gasping, and he buried his face in her neck, kissing the flushed skin there.

Paul was moaning into her neck. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Irulan, fuck.”

He repeated her name over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get enough of the way she was clenching around him, clutching at him, whimpering and moaning and gasping, desperate for him; for him to keep going, to fill her, to possess her, because yes, Paul, make me yours, make me yours, please, I need this, I need you, don’t stop, please don’t stop-

When he thrust even harder, she should have held in the way she wanted to moan his name, the way she wanted to tell him that she loved him, that he was everything, she knew she should’ve, but she didn’t have to, because he was kissing her again, and she couldn't form even the one syllable of his name with him sucking on her tongue that way.

He grasped her breasts again, gently pinching her nipples and drinking in her gasps of pleasure as she lifted her hips up to meet his, running her hands up and down his body, feeling the muscles of his arms and back flex as he moved inside of her.

“So good,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her deeply. “So wet for me.” Irulan nodded, because she’d agree with anything he told her, anything he asked of her. “All for me. Fuck, Irulan, all for me.”

And she slid her fingers through his hair and kissed him hungrily, because he was thrusting a little harder, a little faster, and his tongue was in her mouth, rubbing against hers, and his hands were gripping her breasts as he moaned her name.

She hadn’t spoken the entire time, but she couldn’t help it just then, gasping a quiet, “Paul,” on an exhale.

“Yes,” he groaned back, sucking a bruise into her neck, claiming her in a way that she knew would destroy her later, when she’d put ointment on it so it wouldn’t heal. She’d keep it there, needing a piece of him, of this.

“Yes,” he repeated. “Say my name, wife, say my name. Tell me how good it feels.”

He might as well have used the Voice on her, because she immediately said, “so good, so good, please, Paul, so good-“

And he groaned again, thrusting a bit harder and kissing the bruise he’d given her. “All for me,” he growled, strangely possessive for reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom.

As if she could ever belong to anyone but him.

She ran her hands up and down his chest, his sides, his arms, and he gasped, “yes, touch me,” and cupped her cheek, leaning down to kiss her again.

It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and if she could read his mind, she wouldn’t have known what to make of his thoughts, which consisted entirely of: fuck, fuck, Irulan, mine, mine, my wife, fuck, my wife, she’s mine, no one else’s, no one but me, not ever, not ever, my Irulan, my wife, fuck, so tight, so wet, so perfect, so beautiful, mine mine mine oh fuck, Irulan-

“Don’t stop,” she whimpered, unable to hold it in. “Please don’t stop.”

“No,” he shook his head, kissing her again and breathing into her mouth as he spoke. “No, you feel so good, you take me so well, fuck, so perfect around my cock, my Irulan, that’s it, take it, wife, take me-“

And she lifted her hips up to meet his every thrust, needing it, needing this, needing him to keep going, keep going, please, Paul, oh god, Paul-

She didn’t think anything of him referring to her as his wife beyond the fact that she wanted to hear it a million times a day, so she just gasped, “yes, yes, please-“

She didn’t finish her statement, which was for the best, as it was, please don’t stop I need it I need you inside me you feel so good you’re so perfect I love you so much I’ll die if you stop I swear it I’ll die right here and now if you don’t keep fucking me like this I need this I need you in me like this oh god Paul I love you pleasepleaseplease-

The look on his face, too, was exquisite; scrunched up in a way that made it seem like he was in pain, but he wasn’t. At least she didn’t think so, judging by the the breathy, “f- fuck-“ that spilled from his lips in the most delicious way.

Paul was fucking into her, slamming into her roughly, gripping her hips possessively, desperately, as if he could keep her there by sheer force of will, taking his cock like she was always meant to do; like leaving marks on her hipbones, bruises in the shape of his fingerprints, would ensure she’d never take another man to bed.

“No one else,” he told her firmly, possessive though he had no right to be. “Only ever me, wife.”

She nodded, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

“Swear it,” he told her, cupping her cheek and thrusting into her harshly. “Swear you’ll never let another man have you. My wife. Mine.”

“Yours,” she agreed dumbly, foolishly. It didn’t matter, though. She’d always be his. “Only yours. Only you.”

He kissed her again, sucking her tongue into his mouth and fucking her harder. She wanted, in that moment and each one thereafter, for him to own her, to possess her very soul, the essence of her being.

He didn’t promise never to be with anyone else, but she didn’t care. She would later; later, she’d sob herself hoarse over it, but just then, she didn’t care.

“Does it feel good, wife? Do you like it?” he asked with a sharp thrust.

“Yes,” she gasped against his lips. “It’s- god, I can’t, I can’t, you’re incredible, oh god, Paul, please, I can’t-“

She was sobbing now, but there were no tears in her eyes. He kissed her, saying her name against her mouth, sliding a hand up from her hip to cup her breast, squeezing it.

After awhile, he reached between them and started rubbing her clit again, and he kissed her and murmured against her lips, “cum for me.”

“Paul,” she gasped out, leaning into his touch, lifting her hips again and again to meet each of his thrusts. “I’m going to- I’m going to-“

“I know,” he told her. “I can feel it. Cum.”

Irulan kissed him then, her beloved husband, and he rubbed her clit harder, fucking into her so roughly she half-thought she’d break.

She didn’t break, though. Instead, she screamed his name, clutching at his back desperately.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, panting. “Please don’t stop.”

He growled, biting her lower lip and slamming into her.

“Fuck, Paul, I-“

“Cum,” he ordered, eyes boring into hers as he rubbed her clit hard and fast.

Suddenly, Irulan burst, screaming his name and she did. He fucked her through her orgasm, drawing it out into an impossibly prolonged state of bliss, before he grunted and his thrusts shortened, his hips sputtering against hers.

Still, he kissed her, holding her close.

This is how it was meant.

Afterwards, they were panting, and he was still holding her to his chest, though he appeared to remember himself after a couple of minutes, and got up and started to get dressed, steadfastly refusing to look at her.

He left without so much as a word or a backwards glance, though he did give the blanket that had been beneath her to the Bene Gesserit who had been waiting outside the door.

Irulan changed into another night gown -not that one, never again; it one was special now-, curled up on her bed, and cried until she tired herself out enough to fall into a fitful sleep.

[seyaryminamoto]

For @thingsareswinging: Happy Holidays!

I didn't know what I'd do when you were my assigned gift recipient in the Sokkla Community Holiday Gift Exchange, but I was immediately hyped about creating something for you. While I haven't read everything you've written, it's safe to say I've liked everything I've read of yours. So much so that, without your awareness, I owe my thesis subject (thus, my graduation), to the ideas you sparked in my head with The Gentleman of Weapons. Hence, this gift wasn't just an assignment for me but a very big thank you for everything you've done for me without even knowing it.

The lines featured in this comic are, of course, your own writing: Looking With a Tender Eye is, if I recall correctly, the first of your works I ever got to read, and the second-to-last scene of the second chapter has stuck with me ever since. I've always felt that dialogue expressed extraordinarily well the tragedy of the two child soldiers and commanders who needed a greater purpose and had so much more in common than they ever realized. Thus, this comic is a tribute to that scene, not fully based on the fic itself but inspired by Azula's words to Sokka in the fic's climax. I really hope this gift is to your liking, and that you've had a great Holiday season! Thanks for everything!

[comediakaidanovsky]

Boy Interrupted, chapter 4

By the time evening comes around, Gurney and Duncan get ready to head back to the city, and Paul feels extraordinarily brave as he decides to walk them to the car. He hugs Duncan goodbye, giving the normal spiel about driving carefully and all that jazz, and then there’s just him and Gurney – but not really; Paul is all too aware that they’re probably being watched from both the house and the car.

Still, he lingers when Gurney hugs him, and as they part, he holds his forehead to Gurney’s, not foolish enough to go in for a kiss, yet foolish enough for this; their noses brushing, breaths mingling in what little space they manage to keep between them, and even though Paul is much too close to properly look at Gurney, he smiles. “See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah”, Gurney agrees, and for a moment Paul thinks that he’ll be the brave one; that Gurney will actually kiss him here, in front of an audience. Instead, a hand comes to cradle Paul’s face, tender even when Gurney’s thumb strokes along his cheekbone. “I’ve got some rehearsals, but otherwise I’m free whenever. Just give me a call.”

--- AO3

haha wow, this took way too long to write. i called it “overly ambitious” before but this chapter is like 10k words and i can’t believe i’m writing this wtf

went through a lil “year three of quar” depresh, and while that’s still ongoing i’m at least back to writing, so hopefully the next chapter wont take like 20 days, jfc

[ab1tofsp1ce]

A Warmer Refuge

CHAPTER 4: Tender and Untouched

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A/N: Hey everyone! I have more parts coming soon so follow if you’re interested!

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 3K

Warnings: Just fluff and a bit of angst

Description: You finally open up to the Mandalorian a bit, who seems to be far more interested in your life than you anticipated.

I don’t remember how or when I fell asleep, but I did drift in and out of consciousness enough times to paint a picture of what happened over the next few hours. Despite being exhausted, the cold initially kept me from falling asleep. Although I’m sure it truly wasn’t that frigid, I’d spent my whole life on sun-kissed dunes, far away from these rugged mountains. I lay there, using my rucksack as a pillow, curled up in a desperate bid to retain some warmth. Then, at some point, I felt a blanket of some kind drape over me, quelling my shivers. Later, I flickered into consciousness for a brief second to recognize the warmth and scent of fire, burning a few feet away from me. Finally, one last time, I briefly stirred again far later. I had turned over and was facing away from the entrance to the cave and the fire, its warmth washing over my back. Above the low crackle of the fire, I could hear the rain had faded, only contributing a gentle patter outside. This enabled me to now hear something else; the Mandalorian’s breathing. He gently cleared his throat with a clarity I hadn’t heard before. And then I realized why. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. And, when I listened further, I realized it was because he was eating. I was so exhausted I barely had the energy to stay awake and listen, but just the idea that he was right there, so close to me (even if a few feet away). He felt comfortable enough – maybe even trusting of me – to remove it. This thought sent a final jolt of glee through my heart, and then my eyes gave in, and I fell back to sleep.

When I woke up it was dark, and I was still turned away from the fire. As I sat up and looked over, I saw that the fire was only a glowing ember and… he wasn’t there. My heart froze, and I felt a rush in my head as I sat up more frantically. His stuff was still there, as was mine. The rain was still dimly pattering down outside, echoing slightly in this small cave. I stood up; the blanket that had been wrapped around me falling to the ground. When I looked down at it, I realized it was not a blanket, but his cape. My heart began to pound as I scanned the cave. Outside, it was too black to see anything further than a foot or two from the entrance of the cave. I approached it, barely noticing the stinging of my wounded leg. My eyes were yet to adjust, and the darkness seemed all-consuming and never-ending. I felt it caught in my throat – I wanted to yell out to him. I felt myself begin to panic. I fought with myself and my better judgment, before taking a step out of the mouth of the cave. The rain dripped down my arms, and I drew in a shaky breath for courage. But just as I took another step, I saw something in the distance. Something shiny, reflecting the extraordinarily dim glow of the dying fire behind me. As it grew closer, I began to make out a figure; I sighed in relief, almost collapsing right there. The Mandalorian marched towards me, blaster in hand. I was yet to see him with his weapon drawn, a strange thing considering it was such an integral part of his job. He stopped about ten feet away from me, still holding his blaster at his side. He seemed to be looking at me like he was expecting an answer. “I – you scared me,” was all I managed to stutter out. “I woke up and you were gone.” He stood there for a moment, and I thought he was going to disregard what I said like he usually did. “There was a noise, I went to go investigate.” I wasn’t sure what to do. In truth, I was just so relieved to see him there I wanted to bask in it for another moment. We just stood there staring at each other. It was funny, how he was only gone for a brief moment, and yet he had almost given me a heart attack. It made me realize how much I had been relying on him; on a foreign planet, far from civilization, in the middle of the night – he was the only thing protecting me. “Come on,” he said, securing his blaster back in its holster. “You’ll freeze in the rain.”

After reviving the fire, the Mandalorian sat down in the same spot as before, while I shuffled my pile of stuff a little closer to the fire so I could properly dry off. I had quickly discovered that my clothes, which were the same ones I had worn on Yak’ish Temeen, were not made for wetter biomes. Even though it had been hours since my first stint in the rain they had still been wet and were even more so now. Part of me knew I’d have trouble keeping warm in wet clothes, but there was no way I was going to try and have that conversation with the Mandalorian. So, instead, I rolled up my sleeves to wring them out and get some of the fire’s warmth on my skin. “What’s that?” The Mandalorian interrupted my thoughtless mind with his abrupt question. I looked up to see him gesturing to my left arm, in particular to my tattoo. It was a thick red band that circled my bicep, except for a one-inch gap at the front. “It’s cultural,” I tried to explain. “When we come of age, we get this tattoo. To show all other Grat’anarians that we are old enough to leave our carousel, or herd our cattle, or to get – ”. I realized then I didn’t want to finish that sentence. It was a can of worms I wasn’t ready to open. But my hesitance had come too late. “To get what?” There was an earnest tone to this question. I regarded him for a moment; how he looked genuinely interested in me. “To get married,” I admitted. “Were you…,” he trailed off, and I felt myself grow hot in the cheeks. “Oh! No! I mean… I could’ve, obviously, but I wasn’t…” I paused. “I couldn’t leave my family.” “Is that… what happens,” he asked. “When you get married?” I shrugged, looking down at my dirty, scraped hands. “Not necessarily. But when we marry it’s generally between different carousels, so one would have to move and the other would stay.” There was a moment of silence. “Why couldn’t you leave your family?” He had a cautious tone, clearly unsure of whether I’d be happy answering that question. “My brother and I were raised by my grandparents,” I began. “He was much younger than me and, when my grandmother became sick, I knew I couldn’t leave them. Our income depended on my grandfather traveling to Yemi’natar, but he needed someone with him. So, I started going.” I glanced up at him, and he was looking at me. It felt like he was trying to read me, to figure out what I really meant. I wasn’t sure what to do with that, so I kept talking. “The gap, here,” I gestured to the tattoo, “was supposed to be filled when I got married. It would hold a crest that belonged to… to my spouse’s family. They would get mine and I would get theirs. It’s meant to be a symbol of gratitude to your new in-laws; like a thank-you to them for raising your spouse.” I stared at the tattoo, which all of a sudden struck me as empty. “I’ll never get to fill it now.” The Mandalorian cleared his throat. “What… what happened back there? If you have refugee status for entering Kistern…” I sighed. I hadn’t talked about it. Not out of reserve or grief, but because I hadn’t had anyone to talk to. For the past year I’d been alone, barely surviving on scavenged scraps and favors owed by old acquaintances of my family. But, in truth, the general population of Yak’ish Temeen held, at best, very little regard for Grat’anarians, even though we were one the only true natives to the planet. “Grat’anarians were never favored by other species that settled on Yak’ish Temeen. We have a strong connection to the land, and we know how to not just survive but thrive on it. Some, particularly the –”. I let out a shaky breath. “… particularly the Pelosans never liked us. The Empire had promised them our land in exchange for their allegiance. But when the Empire fell, the Pelosans decided to take matters into their own hands.” I shuddered, trying to suppress the memories. “We were never fighters like they were. And worse, we never expected it.” “What about the New Republic?” I scoffed; it was a childish question. “What about them? There’s been so much disarray in the past few years, they didn’t know or care about what was happening on a small, isolated planet on the edge of the galaxy until it was too late.” It was hard to hide the contempt in my voice. Truthfully, I knew little about the politics of the galaxy, but I didn’t care to. All that mattered in my mind was that there was no one to help when we needed it, and now I was here because of it. The Mandalorian shuffled uncomfortably and looked away, and I realized I may have been too scornful. I tried to smile at him softly, to lessen the sting of my words, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. What else was there to say? Except… “What about you?” I asked. He looked back up at me, as if confused, so I clarified. “What are you planning to do on Kistern?” He stared into the fire. “I’m hoping to find someone… find information, about something.” I was a little disheartened at his lack of transparency, although I wasn’t entirely sure what I expected from him. I felt sad, truthfully, at the sound of his voice. It was so… well, scared. Maybe that word was too strong, but there was something that twinged in his voice, a sound reminiscent of a feeling I knew all too well; loss. If he had told me outright that he had lost a lot in his life, I certainly wouldn’t have been surprised. I’m sure you don’t become a bounty hunter for the enjoyment. But, in some way, the less he said the more he said. It was his reservation, the ache of guilt or grief that resonated in his voice, that I recognized. I had felt it every second of my life for almost a year. “I hope you find it,” was all I managed to muster. In my peripheral vision I noticed him look back up at me as I looked down at the ground. It was a trifling talent I had always possessed, and I could see, with remarkable clarity, the exact way he was currently staring at me despite the fact I wasn’t looking at him. He was watching me, and although I couldn’t see what was happening under that helmet, I could’ve sworn I felt his eyes travel up and down me, lingering on my face as if scanning it for an ulterior meaning. My heart thumped loudly at the thought – the idea that he was watching me. That I was interesting enough to be observed in this way. The last year of my life I’d been forgotten, shed from society. Actually, if I was being truthful, I’d felt that way my whole life. Quiet, and of little to no importance. It wasn’t because of anything anyone had ever done; in fact, that was the exact reason why I had felt so lost. It was the same reason I had slaved for hours over those stupid little trinkets my grandmother had given me – I was so desperate to prove my worth. And now I was, as far as I knew, the last of my people still alive. For a whole year I’d lived with that survivor’s guilt, of how ordinary and unimportant I was, and I wondered why it couldn’t have been someone else smarter or braver sitting here where I am now. It didn’t matter that I had that tattoo – I still felt like a child. A tear slid down my cheek silently, and I frantically wiped it off with my sleeve. But it was too late. I couldn’t hold it back. The pain, the guilt, the grief, the exhaustion. Although my face remained straight, a desperate bid to retain some integrity, I couldn’t help crying wordlessly. My vision blurred; I could no longer tell if he was looking at me. Apparently, he was. “I lost everyone,” he said quietly, and I responded by quickly attempting to regain my composure. He was staring into the fire distantly. “Not just my Creed, but… but my real family, too. Many years ago.” He seemed to sigh silently. “And then, just when I thought I found another family, I lost them too.” It was hard not to quiver at the sound of his voice. So disheartened, aching with longing. “Who was… who was your new family?” He looked down at his hands, as I had before. “They were more of… an unlikely friend.” He chuckled slightly, as if recalling a memory of a fonder time. The sound was so warm and comforting, I couldn’t help but smile too. “I could use a friend,” I admitted. I bit my tongue after, wondering if I’d overstepped an invisible line between us. I remembered suddenly what his hand had felt like, warm under mine – tender and untouched. “Me too,” he said.