#genuinely my first thought was the roof was going to fall on me

[gabbagabbadoo]

a 4.8 earthquake (!!!) happened about 50 miles away from me this morning (!!!!!!!)

i felt the house shaking and i was swaying back and forth and could hear a rumbling noise.. i ran outside and nothing looked wrong!! no one else was outside, i went to the backyard and it was the same. nothing fell over in the house, nothing looked moved, the birds were still chirping... i truly thought i finally cracked and lost my mind but it was an EARTHQUAKE!!!!!

[barbieaemond]

Religion (sneak peek)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: mild angst, misogyny, pregnancy, childbirth, oral sex, p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, brief lactation kink, breeding kink, manipulation (to get some), some good ol' tying up, slandering of the Gods lol

Author's note: this is the third and final part following And I dream of a grave and A curse for a curse but can be read as a standalone. It will be posted tomorrow!

She looks around briefly; the room is warm, the fire in the hearth is lit, as the candles scattered all around. This is all quite familiar. “These are my old chambers…” she says with a little frown, turning to him.

“Quite the observer, wife.” He drawls, and takes a few steps. His stride is different now. Slow, contemplating, just as his gaze raking over her, as if he in the first place doesn’t know why he brought her here and he’s assessing what to do. A war map unfolding, and he knows where all the faults lie.

“I thought we could spend some time together” he starts, walking past her to go sit near the fire “Alone.” he adds once he leisurely sits down, crossing his long legs and resting his hands on the armrests. “What better place than a vacant room? No one will come looking for us here.”

She tries as hard as she can to stop the little smirk at the corner of her lips; she walks closer, stopping right in front of him, staring down. “They might hear.” 

“Hmm. And that is much of a trouble for you, isn’t it?” he asks with the most fake genuine tone, taking a cup from the nearby table, and then “You sucked my cock on a terrace and begged me to fuck you in the Small Council…I thought I told you to quit your act.”

She smiles openly now, watching the wine pouring in the cup, his eye fixed on the liquid as his eyebrow shots up. “Besides, I know exactly what to do to muffle your noises.”

“You should be proud of my noises.”

“I am.” He says, taking a sip of wine, his eye piercing through her above the cup’s brim. “But for once, Aegon is right. I’m not one for sharing.”

His arm moves to put the wine aside but she takes it, only to feel his hand pulling the cup away from her. “You cannot drink.”

“Fine.” She concedes, leaning on him. “I’ll have it my way.”

She holds his face and with her left hand she glides her fingers on the left side, delicately but with purpose, pushing the eyepatch off. And then she kisses him, eagerly, licking his lips and then breaching inside to taste the wine on his tongue, on the roof of his mouth.

She sighs deeply when he locks his tongue with hers, and feels his lips curling.

“Did you hear it?” He says breaking the kiss, breathing into her mouth. “That one is my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?” She asks mindlessly, chasing his lips but to no use, because he tilts his head back, his cursed smirk lingering.

“Noise. It’s a little thing…” he tells her, locking one hand around her neck “in the back of your throat, close to a sigh but not quite…” his fingers trail against her throat, chasing her swallowing “It tells me you’re dying to.”

“To do what?”

“Fall on your knees for me. Be a supplicant.”

She grabs the back of his neck, driving his head close and looks down at his arched mouth “You cannot live without God, can you?” She looks up, her mouth open to breathe “Seven of them seem to have cursed me. I had to find my own.”

His eye widens at that. He looks straight into her eyes, so devoted, so raw. She’s right. The Gods would curse her some more if they saw she looked at him the way she should look at the Gods.

“Then do it.”

“What?”

“Flatteries don’t work on me, sweetling. You should know that.” With his hand on her neck, he slightly pushes her away, putting some distance between them. “You will have to show me.”

“What would you have me do?”

His hands let go of her completely, resting on the armchair. The gemstone glints in blue and yet, it’s nowhere near the bright cursed thing in his eye. “Get on your knees for me. Now.”

She should be ashamed of the pull in her bones, the muscles willing to move on their own accord and fall to the ground. But why, why does it have to be sin? Why can it not be religion?

FULL FIC HERE

[theemporium]

okaaaaaaaaaaay i just the new dialogue prompts so prompt no. 1 with sirius but please feed us with a lovesick fool!sirius <33333

1.”Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”

.

Sirius Black loved to do anything that would piss his mother off and take her a step closer to an early grave. 

Whether it was proudly sitting amongst those who weren’t purebloods or part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or wearing his house colours with pride despite the stain it left on the Black name. Whether it was embracing muggle culture, or picking on every little fight he could when he stayed under her roof. 

Sirius liked to push her buttons. He liked to poke the bear and he liked watching that vein on her forehead look as though it was seconds away from exploding. In fact, it had been another one of her fancy dinners that he attended on a whim in hopes to find a way to piss her off. 

What Sirius hadn’t been expecting was to meet you. And what he certainly wasn’t expecting was to fall head over heels for the girl his mother would ship him off with before he could even blink. 

He had tried to fight his feelings for as long as he could. He reminded himself that you were probably a pureblood elitist like the others in that room, that you were a Slytherin and you probably turned your nose down at people who he considered his closest friends. 

But then he started noticing you around Hogwarts and quickly realised that wasn’t the case. And it became a quick—and borderline pathetic game—for Sirius to find any excuse to be near you, to be on your radar.

He made jokes whenever he knew you were in the room and eagerly sought out your reaction to see if you laughed. He would make funny comments in classes you shared together to see if you’d lift your head from your textbook to notice him. He would throw peas at you during dinner to see if you would turn around to find him in the chaos of the Great Hall. 

His most recent attempt wasn’t even meant to be anything grand. Just a simple question he made up so he would have an excuse to walk over to you during potions and talk to you. 

But then Snape had made a point of kicking his bookbag in Sirius’ path and the wizard didn’t have enough time to catch the movement before he was stumbling forward, crashing down on a table full of potion bottles that smashed around him.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Sirius blinked, the blaring lights above slowly being covered by your face as you stared down at him with a concerned expression, eyes glancing over him to make sure there were no physical injuries. 

There was a slightly bitter, citrus-like taste on his lips that he didn’t have a chance to question before he was blurting out the first thought that came to his head when he saw your face in his line of vision. 

“You are really pretty!”

You paused, glancing down at the boy with a slightly surprised expression. “What?”

“Like, genuinely one of the fittest witches I have ever seen in my life,” he kept going, unable to stop himself. “Maybe even the fittest.”

“Thank you?” you said, a little unsure by the bold statement. 

“I think you might actually be the girl of my dreams but you make me nervous to talk to you and I have never had that with a girl before,” he told you, his eyes widening a little at just how easily that confession slipped from his lips. 

Sirius quickly scrambled to sit up, not caring about his soaked uniform or the mess around him as he glanced down at the bottles smashed on the floor. His eyes landed on a certain label and he tried not to let out a string of curse words.

Of course out of all the potions he could have possibly accidentally consumed, it had to be a truth potion.

“You feeling okay there, Black?” you asked cautiously.

“I like the way you say my name!” Sirius blurted out before slapping a hand over his mouth. “I—uh, pretend I didn’t say…anything that I just said in the last few minutes.”

However, to his surprise, you smiled and let out a small laugh. “Anything else you like?”

“You!” Sirius said confidently, though his face and ears burned as red as his house tie. “I…fuck. Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what? You’re pretty and smart and you make my heart feel funny.”

“I make your heart feel funny,” you repeated, sounding amused by his confession.

“Yeah, like a good funny,” Sirius continued even if his hands were clenched into fists at his side, nails digging into his sweaty palms. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”

You raised your brows. “Yeah?”

Sirius contemplated if a sinkhole swallowing him up would be too far-fetched to occur right now. “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t need a potion to tell you I wanna kiss you too, Black.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” you told him with a grin. “But it’s cute.” 

Sirius grinned back at you. “So, if I asked you out on a date, you’d say yes?”

“Ask me, Black, and then you’ll see.”

.

[ripdragonbeans]

Do You Believe In Fate? // Pt. 1 // Aegon II x Reader

Artwork: @emilykaldwen // Beta: @exitpursuedbyavulcan

Summary: Falling in love with Aegon wasn’t easy. You would think the years gone by would make it less difficult but it turned out that was not the way fate worked. Fate brought you together but would it keep you apart as well?

Warnings: eventual smut, bodily harm, gore, hurt/comfort

A/N: I tried posting it all at once but Tumblr said it was too long so I guess I'm breaking it into parts lol

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

Aegon has always been loud, that’s just who he is. And he was your neighbor. As cliche as it was, you fell in love with him. It wasn’t all at once. It was one year, one step at a time. You always found yourself drawn to him in some way. You swore up and down that there have been glances between you two over the years, lingering touches, soft words. It all happened so quickly that you could never be sure if they were real. Despite everything life threw at you and Aegon, you two would always find each other, even if sometimes you didn’t want to.

Being two years older than you, Aegon acted like he always knew better than everyone else, especially when it came to his younger siblings, Helaena and Aemond. You and Aegon were civil at most. A passing nod here and there; a kind smile every now and then. When you were younger there were rarely any genuine conversations but he was always around. Always around you.

Unlike your relationship with Aegon, you were close to Helaena and Aemond, always have been. Helaena was your best girl. Together you two would giggle over boys and girls and talk about your favorite things. Aemond was your best guy. You would work on homework together and have debates simply for the fun of having a debate.

Within the first few years of meeting Aegon and his siblings, a steady rhythm between the four of you was found. You’d hang out with Helaena and Aemond while Aegon would do his own thing near you three. Most of the time Aegon was on his Gameboy but he was always paying attention. Sometimes you thought that he needed friends, that he should join you and his brother and sister, but his attitude would say something different. Sometimes, the three of you would try to play somewhere away from Aegon but he would always end up in the same room anyway. You considered it a lose-lose situation.

“Aegon, come play with us!” Helaena called out.

“Let me think about it.” Aegon waited a few seconds. “No.”

Aemond picked up the biggest dragon and flew it over your head. “If you’re just going to sit, go sit somewhere else.”

Aegon stuck out his tongue. “Just because you said that, I’m staying, little brother.”

Aemond cringed. He hated being the youngest of the three.

You rolled your eyes and continued to play with your dragons and your blocks. You focused hard on making the most perfect castle for everyone’s dragons to live in. Red, blue, and yellow blocks were stacked on top of each other with a yellow triangle block adorning the top of the castle as the roof.

You were admiring your hard work when a thought occurred to you. “Let’s make flags for our castles!”

Excitedly, you turned towards your friends only to find them already on their feet on their way to grab art supplies. You laughed as you got up to join them but stopped at the doorway. You didn’t like that Aegon wasn’t joining you.

“Would you like to make a flag, Aegon? I can make you your own castle, too.”

“Pft, I’m eight, I can make my own castle,” he proclaimed. He got up from his comfy chair and put his Gameboy down. “But yeah, I’d like to make a flag.”

You gave him a big grin. “Yay!”

Aegon followed you as you led the way to the big dining room table that was now littered with art supplies. Helaena and Aemond made sure to get everything. There were glue sticks, pom poms, crayons, markers, colored pencils, paint, paper, scissors, and little sticks for the flags. Helaena even pulled out her special foam stickers for the occasion.

“Come on, you guys! You’re slow!” Called Helaena.

She was already working on her flag, picking out the stickers she wanted. The outline of a butterfly was on her paper, colored with purples and pinks. You peered over at Aemond and saw the outline of a dragon blowing fire.

You turned to Aegon. “What are you gonna put on your flag?” you asked.

“Oh, I know exactly who’s gonna be on my flag.” A mischievous smile snuck its way onto his face.

Your eyes widened in horror at the implication but you caught yourself before you could say anything stupid. Aegon strolled into the room and plopped himself into an empty chair.

You took in all the art supplies laid out in front of you. A smile spread out across your face as you reached out and grabbed whatever caught your eye. Crayons of various colors were soon in a pile in front of you. Ideas bounced around your head and it was hard to pluck out just one. Thinking hard, you turned your attention to Aegon, curious to see what he was working on. You couldn’t see much but you did see a swarm of purple. Just then an idea popped into your head.

“And done!” Aegon exclaimed as he jumped out of his chair. Even though he was the second last to start on his flag, he was the first to finish. Aegon stood tall and proud as he showed off his flag. “I present to you the flag for the House of Waluigi!”

A once white piece of paper now had a carefully drawn picture of Waluigi from the Super Mario games. He was tall and gangly and had a long, pointy nose that Aegon had extended all the way to the edge of the paper. His purple hat covered his eyes almost completely but a clever glint could still be seen. Waluigi’s limbs were just as long as his nose, if not longer. Aegon drew him almost like a long legged spider creature.

It brought a chuckle out of you, seeing the flag. It was just so…Aegon. He locked eyes with you and smiled when you laughed and you felt yourself blush. It was a simple thing, and you didn’t know why, but it made you happy for some reason.

“Okay, I’m next,” Helaena said. She made a big deal of folding it up as she stood up so no one could see it. Slowly, she unraveled it. “Ta-da!”

Helaena’s flag had a butterfly with blue and green wings on a pink and purple background. It had a giant smile on its face and curly antennas that made a heart at the top of the paper. It was bright and colorful, just like her.

“I guess I’m next,” said Aemond sheepishly. There was no flourish in his showing of his flag but there was still a glint of pride.

Aemond’s flag was black with a large green dragon breathing fire. It was fierce, despite being drawn by a four year old. “Her name is Vhagar and she’s the mightiest dragon!” he let out a giant laugh.

Giggles erupted from all of them. Aemond was sweet and quiet, no one really thought he would choose a dragon for his house.

“I’m last so that means mine will be awesome!” you said between giggles.

You took a breath and flipped your paper over to reveal your flag. It was a three headed dog, with one head looking silly and lopsided and the other two looking fairly serious.

“He may not breathe fire but this dog is really big and can probably fight your dragon, Aemond,” you teased. “And her name is Jeremy Triangle Dot but we call her Dot for short. Mainly because Dot is the boss. She’s the middle head.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “Vhagar is a dragon. A dragon.”

“I bet if I put Waluigi on Dot we could defeat Vhagar!” Aegon jumped in.

“Hey, not fair!” Aemond pouted.

“It’s okay, Aemond. My butterfly will be super big and protect you with her wings.” Helaena piped up.

“Auntie Alicent!” You called out for your friends’ mother. She was a mother figure for you as well. “Look at our Houses! Who would you pick?”

Alicent came to the table and smiled at all of you.

“They all look amazing! I’m afraid I can’t pick one house. But we can say that I rule over all your houses as a queen,” she joked.

“Queen Auntie Alicent!” you cried.

“Queen Mother!” the siblings yelled in response.

“Okay, Queen Mother I am then,” Alicent laughed and messed up Aegon’s hair. “You children are so creative. Would you like smoothies?”

“A strawberry one!” Aegon yelled out.

“Yes, yes, I know, Aegon. I’ll get you all your favorite smoothies.” She left after pressing a kiss atop all of your heads.

The four of you spent the next two hours making up stories of your Houses and how they all lived together in the same kingdom. The House of Waluigi warred with the Vhagar House while Butterfly House and Dog House stayed neutral through almost everything. The only time those two Houses warred was when the kingdom's flavor of ice cream had to be chosen.

It was the first time you, Helaena, and Aemond had fun with Aegon. For once, Aegon wasn’t on the side playing on his Gameboy or doing his own thing. The four of you grew together; the relationship between the siblings being the best it’s ever been and the relationship you had with them being built on a strong foundation.

Seven years went by and you were all still as thick as thieves. The only difference was that you found yourself hanging out more with Aegon than Helaena and Aemond. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else but it was to you. You found yourself sitting next to Aegon and talking to him more. Whenever you were playing a game with the siblings you were always on the same team as Aegon.

Together, the two of you were inseparable, even at that young age. Through some sort of finagling, your mother and Alicent got you, Aemond, and Aegon all on the same football team. Really, though, the three of you should not be in the same age bracket. To make things a little even, however, you and Aemond, at the age of ten, played with Aegon’s team; them at age thirteen. Nevertheless, it was chaotic fun for the three of you. Helaena, on the other hand, preferred to stay off the pitch and cheer you on from the sidelines.

“Aeg, through! THROUGH!” You called from the other side of the field. If he would just pass the ball, you could sprint through the two defenders in your way and take a shot at the goal without being offside.

Aegon was being a ball hog, playing around with the ball just to show off and keep it away from the opposing team. The opposing team actually being the Targaryen’s cousins’ team.

“Aegon, focus!” you tried to get his attention.

Eventually, Aegon looked up and saw your plan. He gave the ball a strong kick. It flew through the air, over you and the other defenders. You sprinted as fast as you could. Since you were behind the defenders when Aegon kicked the ball, if you got to it before they did you would be safe to continue towards the goal without any penalty.

One of the defenders, a cousin of the Targaryen siblings, Jace, came up next to you, also sprinting his heart out. The two of you locked eyes in a heated battle of dominance. Smirking at him, you dug deep for that extra burst of speed you needed to beat Jace to the ball.

The ball was still making its arc in the air when you finally passed Jace just a tiny bit. When it hit the ground it bounced once. Twice. Three times before you were able to catch it with your foot. Jace was right behind you. Already you dug yourself into the ground, ready for any hit from him that could push you off the ball. You dribbled fast, dodging the defenders that have come up to catch you. Swerving in and out you saw the perfect opportunity to take a shot. Grabbing that burst of energy deep inside you, you gave one final push so it was just you and the other team’s goalie. He dived at you but you were quick to avoid him and kick the ball to the back of the net.

Aegon whooped and threw his hand in the air before tackling you in a hug. Helaena and Alicent were cheering loud on the sidelines and Aemond jumped up and down in his goal box, getting ready for the next kick off.

Jace started the kick off. He passed it to his little brother, Luke, and they went straight for the goal. Pure force. That wouldn’t work, not with your team to stop them. Luke was fast but you were faster. You caught up to him easily and fought for the ball. You were able to kick it out of his control and pass it on to Aegon. Aegon took it and tried to boot it down the field but Jace got the ball back before he could. He was about to reach out and grab Jace’s jersey.

“Aegon!” you warned him. He didn’t need to give the team a free kick, not now.

Aegon looked at you and scowled but quickly replaced it with a playful wink. Then off he went, chasing after Jace.

Jace was a decent distance from the goal box when he let the ball fly. It didn’t actually go through the air, but was a fast and strong kick that stayed on the ground. Luke followed the ball and Aegon followed Luke. As Aemond dived for the ball, Luke attempted to slide tackle the ball out of Aemond’s reach. Instead of hitting the ball, though, Luke hit Aemond’s eye cleats up.

A scream of pain.

Blood.

So much blood was pouring out of Aemond’s face.

Luke just sat there, stunned at what just happened. Jace was quick to run to his younger brother and make sure he was okay but of course he was. He wasn’t the one who got cleats in his eye.

You grabbed Aegon’s hand and ran him over to his brother.

“Aemond, you’re gonna be okay,” he told his brother.

Aemond was holding his face with one hand. The goalie glove he had on was soaked in blood. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was barely shake or nod his head.

Alicent was running onto the field. “Aemond! AEMOND!”

Coach Otto, Alicent’s father, also ran to Aemond. He picked him up effortlessly. “I got you.”

Aemond mumbled something but you couldn’t make it out.

“Keep that hand on your eye, gotta keep the pressure there.” Coach Otto turned to his daughter. “Meet us at the emergency room.”

Alicent nodded silently. She looked at her children, her children and you. “Helaena, Aegon, and my dear, are you alright?”

Helaena nodded her head. She was in shock. You went over to her and gave her a tight hug. She held onto you hard.

Aegon just lowered his head. He didn’t say or indicate anything. All you could tell was that he was angry.

“I’m… I’m fine. I think,” you told Alicent. “I want to go with you to the emergency room. Is that okay?”

Alicent enveloped you in a hug of her own when you let go of Helaena. “Oh, my dear, of course you can.” She let you go. “Come now, all of you.”

With Alicent leading you all, you ran to the car and piled in. Alicent was normally a very safe driver but this time she was aggressive. When you arrived at the emergency it was clean. Almost too clean. You and Aegon stood out in your dirty football uniforms. Holding Helaena’s hand, you followed close behind Alicent.

“My son, my son, Aemond Targaryen was taken here. He was being carried by my father. There was blood pouring from his face,” she was telling the front desk.

“Yes, him,” the lady at the front desk seemed to be in no rush.

“Please, I’d like to see him.”

“You’re going to have to wait a bit -”

Aegon snapped. “Let us see our brother!”

“Aegon!” cried Alicent.

“Aegon, please, everything is going to be okay,” you tried to comfort him.

The lady coughed. “As I said, you’re going to have to wait. He was taken in for emergency surgery.”

Alicent’s face lost all color. “But, he’s alive, yes?”

“He should be fine.” The lady’s eyes softened. “Take a seat, it might be a long wait.”

“Thank you,” Alicent nodded her head.

You grabbed Aegon’s hand and took him aside to some chairs in a corner. Once you got to them, Aegon yanked his hand out of yours.

“Aegon, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on? My brother is in a freaking surgery because I couldn’t keep the ball away from our side. That’s what’s going on.”

“It isn’t your fault he got hurt. He’s a goalie, he knows the risks.”

“That risk shouldn’t be losing an eye!”

“It was Luke. You know it was. He shouldn’t have slide tackled like that. It’s illegal.”

“Yeah, and look where that got him. Luke isn’t the one facing the consequences,” Aegon spat. “Instead, it’s my little brother!”

You tackled Aegon in a hug and held him tight. His breathing, once rapid, slowed down. You felt his arms slowly circle around you, as though he was scared to do so. One deep breath. Aegon lowered his head to your shoulder and you felt his shudder. He was crying.

“It should’ve been me,” he whispered against you.

“Shh, I’m right here for you.”

You held him close and didn’t let him go. You’d never let him go.

By the time Aemond got out of surgery, Aegon was asleep with his head on your shoulder. Aemond had lost his eye. He came out with a white gauze taped over where his eye should’ve been. You shook Aegon awake when Alicent brought him over. Aegon looked at Aemond and instantly guilt filled his face.

“I should’ve done something. I’m sorry,” he told his brother.

“You weren’t the one who slide tackled into my face,” Aemond offered him a weak smile.

“He’s right Aeg,” you bumped him with your shoulder. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

After Aemond lost his eye, Aegon started to change. You don't know whether it was just because he wanted to or if it has something to do with not being able to protect his brother. He was more protective of Aemond but he started losing himself. His temper was a little shorter and he learned to hurt people with words. It was as though his thought process was that if he couldn't protect him then he might as well do nothing.

Throughout middle school and junior high he made friends with kids…different from you and his siblings. They were wilder and louder. It seemed as though Aegon thrived with them. He soon started to taunt you and his brother and sister in front of them but would be quick to apologize when you'd walk home together. Away from everyone else. It was as though Aegon, the real Aegon, wasn’t good enough to be at school. Instead, he created this caricature of himself who’s even more obstinate than he already was. For a while it seemed as though he thrived on the attention but you could see it in his eyes that it was tiring. Yet he kept it up.

His relationship with Helaena and Aemond faltered. They were no longer the close siblings they once were. Aegon’s actions outside of home began to drift in. He would ignore Aemond, order around Helaena, and make snide comments at both of them. Your relationship with him changed, as well. He was less genuine with you, his jokes were even more crass than they used to be, and he’d ask you to get to know some of the other girls so he could know who to flirt with.

But there were still small moments when you thought everything would be okay. You’d share a sweet smile with him over a stupid joke. He’d tease you by taking away your water bottle but then playfully give it back. Every now and then he’d surprise you with a big bear hug but then linger just a little bit. Aegon would look at you sometimes and refuse to look away, even if you caught him. If he saw that you caught him, though, he’d play it off with a cheeky wink. When he thought you weren’t looking you could see how soft his eyes were, how they lit up when he looked at you.

Those moments would never last too long. As soon as someone else would sit next to Aegon he broke out of whatever spell he cast on both of you. It was like nothing ever happened. Like you two never even met. You thought you’d get used to the disappointment and dull pain in your heart but you never did. Your emotions were bottled up and they festered deep inside you, ready to burst open at any moment.

“Why do you do that?” you asked Aegon one day.

The two of you were at his house working on some homework.

He looked at you, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you hang out with them?”

“You mean my friends?”

“Yeah, them.” You leaned back in your chair.

“Because they’re my friends,” he said slowly.

“But they’re nothing like us. Me and your brother and sister are on completely opposite sides.”

“I’m allowed to have more friends, it’s not a competition.”

You looked at him, wondering if he was avoiding something else. “Okay. I just worry about you hanging out with other people, especially them.”

“I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry.” He gave you a reassuring smile then returned to his work.

[circussbeetle]

Hotchreid Snippet

I figure since this fic is taking so much longer than i thought it would i may as well post a snippet (that happens to be my favorite scene so far)

Summary: a drunken conversation in a shared cab after a long night

Words: 1.5k

Spencer spots a cab approaching them towards the end of the block, waving his arm until the driver pulls to a stop in front of them. Hotch opens the door for him, always a gentleman, and Spencer slips into the cab as he gives the directions to the driver.

It's only after he’s finished giving his address that he realizes Hotch is still hovering by the open door, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Are you coming?” Spencer asks with a furrowed brow. Hotch scratches at the back of his neck, lingering.

“I could always catch another one…” he trails off uncertainly, and it clicks for Spencer right then that he never answered Hotch’s earlier question.

He’s still waiting for permission.

“Hotch, it's cold and it’s raining and I can hear my duvet crying for me. Get in the cab.”

Hotch doesn’t try to argue with the finality in Spencer’s demand, climbing in next to him and closing the door with a heavy thunk.

The ride is quiet at first. Spencer leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, listening to the sounds of the raindrops hitting the roof, the wheels hissing as they pass through water pooled on the street below, the wind whipping around the car. It’s peaceful, just enough noise to not be overwhelming but to fill the silence as Spencer adjusts to being away from the overly loud music in the bar.

His limbs feel heavy, his bone marrow interlaced with lead and steel and his legs anchored to the floor like he couldn’t move them if he tried. He can feel the exhaustion of the last case creeping up on him, slowly enveloping him and draining him of his last vestiges of energy.

To avoid falling asleep in the car he opens his eyes and rolls his head to the side, taking in Hotch’s stiff form.

He’s been a little strange all night, rapidly oscillating between relaxed and anxious. He goes from cracking jokes in that dry humor of his- almost flirtatious at times, but Spencer doesn’t allow himself to entertain the thought- to sitting pin straight like he’s got a titanium rod in his spine for seemingly no reason at all.

Spencer thinks that maybe this is just what alcohol does to him; he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Hotch drink quite as much as he had tonight, at least not since he and Haley were together and she’d come along with them on their nights out.

And it’s not like he’s belligerent by any stretch of imagination- he handles his liquor leagues better than Spencer himself- but Spencer’s rarely even seen him tipsy, let alone genuinely drunk. Then again, it’s nigh impossible to resist the all powerful Penelope Garcia when she really sets her mind to something.

Maybe it throws him off kilter, makes him nervous to have less command over his words and his movements. It would certainly make sense. Hotch’s entire life requires him to be alert at all times, always one step ahead, always the leader, always in control. It follows that having that stripped from him, even of his own will, would make him a little jittery.

Spencer can relate, in a way. But he’s always found a little more peace in letting go, smothering his ever racing thoughts til they disappear completely, allowing his overstuffed skull to empty for once.

That yearning for tranquility is why he has to be so careful with his intake, why it's so rare that he affords himself the refuge. That sort of numbing could lead down a dark, winding path faster than he could even realize he’s lost.

A part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge wonders if Hotch feels that same solicitous temptation, if that’s what’s fueling his unease.

Whatever it is, Spencer doesn’t like seeing him like this. The tension lining his shoulders, the way he’s clenching his jaw as he looks straight forward at the partition, his hands tightly folded in his lap and his brow low, severe. Like a cadet standing at attention.

The passing streetlamps cast animated highlights across his face like a movie projector, the yellow lamplight that kisses his profile cutting the cool blue dark of the cab. Soft against the harsh angles of his features, his furrowed brow, his pursed lips. Illuminating his eyes for just a second, just long enough to catch the worried glint hidden by those thick eyelashes. A portrait against the scene of raindrops hitting the window beside him.

In a spur of confidence more fueled by liquor than logic Spencer reaches out to the other side of the backseat, his movements slow and intentional like he’s walking up on an injured stray. He lays his hand gently over Hotch’s, holding steady when he flinches under the touch.

Spencer can feel Hotch’s eyes on him now but he doesn’t look up from his task, slowly wiggling his fingers between Hotch’s joined hands until the older man catches on and reluctantly releases his hold.

Spencer takes Hotch’s hand in his own and brings it across the space between them to rest over his knees, cradled in both of his hands like something precious. Because the touch, the silent buzz in the air between them, the manufactured intimacy of their own little world behind the partition is precious to Spencer, and right now he wants Hotch to feel that, even if he knows it’s probably a bad idea.

Hotch doesn’t object, silently watching Spencer’s movements with a wary tilt of his head.

“You have an accent,” Spencer murmurs as he stretches Hotch’s fingers out one by one, rubbing his thumbs up each digit methodically with a consistent pressure.

Hotch’s hands are big and wide, long thick fingers and hair tracing down the backs of them. His fingers aren’t much longer than Spencer’s but they make his hands look petite in comparison, his cold, thin and boney where Hotch’s are warm and strong.

“So do you,” Hotch’s voice comes out so soft it’s almost inaudible over the mechanics of the car.

Spencer smiles softly at the deflection, Hotch’s natural instinct to turn the attention away from himself at all times, uncomfortable with the scrutiny, the idea of being known.

“You have a southern accent,” Spencer specifies, because for once he wants to dig deeper, to push Hotch out of his comfort zone, his safety bubble of isolation.

He massages Hotch’s hand now, firmly pressing his thumbs deep into the meat of his palm. Hotch twitches and his hand tenses for just a moment, and Spencer tenderly brushes his thumb across the expanse of Hotch’s palm as an apology before he continues working at the knots under the surface.

“Virginia born and raised,” Hotch offers an attempt at lighthearted banter but it falls flat, his low baritone laced with apprehension, strained.

“Grow out of it?” Spencer prods, turning Hotch’s hand in his lap to trace over his knuckles, the outline of intricate veins beneath thin skin, the bones below them.

He can see Hotch shake his head out of the corner of his eye, can hear the fabric of his shirt and jacket rustling at the movement, but he doesn’t respond right away.

“No, I uhm…” he clears his throat, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, “I had it trained out of me, in law school. Learned pretty quickly that no one takes a prosecutor with a southern twang seriously.”

Spencer nods as he explores the planes of Hotch’s hand, thinking about a twenty something Hotch doing his best to fit in, to prove himself. Thinking about Hotch now, almost thirty years later, carrying those lessons with him.

“Do you always change parts of yourself to manage other’s perceptions?” The question trips past his lips before he can think better of it.

Hotch tenses, his hand clenching and unclenching in Spencer’s hold like he wants to pull away from the conversation, from Spencer.

His hand stays in place.

“Doesn’t everyone?” He asks quietly, and something about his tone makes Spencer look up for the first time since he started this bizarre interrogation.

Hotch is looking at him like he truly wants an answer, like he wants reassurance that he’s not the only one with something to hide, an audience to perform for. Like he’s pleading to know if he’s the only one putting on a show.

Spencer almost doesn’t want to break it to him.

“No,” he says, looking back to the hand in his lap and lacing their fingers together for a selfish moment, a breath, “not everyone.”

A rigid silence follows, charged with something combative, a bristling sort of energy that Spencer can feel jolting between their joined hands, static shocks biting his fingertips like little strikes of lightning. Hotch stiffens like he wants to argue, and Spencer waits patiently for the debate.

It never comes.

Spencer looks to his side only to see that odd look in Hotch’s eyes again, like he’s searching Spencer for something he’s not even sure of himself.

And then he nods, subtly at first and then firmer, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Spencer. He turns away to look out the window, raindrops casting long shadows down his cheeks and below his eyes as they race to the bottom of the glass, and Spencer feels it in his chest when the moment breaks.

Hotch never pulls his hand away. Spencer draws shapes across his knuckles.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 3 - Secrets at Sunrise*

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where are you going?” Violet’s voice slipped out in a whisper before she could stop herself. 

Genevieve froze mid-step, the soft crunch of gravel under her boots the only sound in the still night. She spun around, her face unreadable in the shadows, though Violet sensed the flicker of annoyance. 

“I’m sorry?” Genevieve’s whisper was sharp, a quiet challenge. Violet immediately regretted her question but pressed on anyway. 

“I asked, where are you going?” Violet shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the unease in her voice. Genevieve looked her up and down scanning Violet, silently begging her to back down. 

Gotcha, Genevieve thought, her lips twitching ever so slightly. 

“I’m going to watch the sunrise,” Genevieve answers, her voice steady, almost amused. “And you’re not going to tell anyone.” 

Violet frowned, unsure whether to be offended or intrigued. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, half taunting, her tone suggesting "You don’t know me at all—I’ll tell whoever I want.”

Genevieve stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Because,” she said, her voice soft but cutting. “I see you wrapping that pretty little knee of yours. You’re hurt, and doesn’t that make you an easy target?” She let the words sink in as Violet’s eyes widened in surprise. “I won’t breathe a word, if you keep my secret. I like to watch the sunrise. Simple as that.” 

Violet opened her mouth, hesitating, then asked, “Why do you like to watch the sunrise?” There was no taunt in her voice this time—just curiosity. 

Genevieve rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “Why do you think? Stop asking questions. It’s simple. You tell, I tell. Or we keep each other’s secrets. Yes or no?”

Violet bit her lip, forcing herself to swallow her response. “Yes,” She muttered. “I’ll keep your secret.”

“Great!” Genevieve’s sudden smile was unsettling, genuine but fleeting. “See you at morning formation. And when you wrap that knee of yours, make sure you tuck in the end of the wrap. It’s too easy for someone to grab.” 

With that, the smile vanished from her face as quickly as it had appeared. She gave Violet a final glance, scanning the rows of beds, then disappearing into the darkness without another word. 

—----------------------------------------

The sky was still a blanket of deep indigo, the kind of dark that clung to the horizon before dawn. Morning dew shimmered on the front lawn of Basgiath, catching the faint starlight. It was so quiet, Genevieve could hear her own breath mingling with the night air. The moisture on the ground made her boots slick, and for a fleeting moment, as she climbed the stone wall to the top of the dormitory tower, she feared she might slip. The stones were coated in a thin layer of water, glistening like frost. The windowsills she passed were slick as well, threatening to betray her with the smallest misstep. It wasn’t a high climb, but the thought of falling, of losing her grip without even catching the first light of sunrise gnawed at her. 

As she neared the top, the night sky began to soften. The dark hues gave way to shades of lavender and pale blue. The horizon glowed faintly, signaling the inevitable arrival of the sun. It was then that Genevieve saw him—a silhouette standing on the roof, a figure cut out against the shifting sky. She couldn’t make out his features, but his stance was enough to make her stomach drop. There was something about the way he stood, so still, that made her instinctively wary. Fight or flight stirred within her, but before she could decide whether to retreat down the ladder or confront him, he spoke, his voice smooth but unmistakably commanding. 

“What are you doing up here, first-year?”

That voice. Of course, it had to be him. Xaden Riorson. She mentally groaned, feeling a mixture of irritation and dread settle in her chest. He always had a way of appearing when she least wanted him to. 

“I could ask the same of you, wingleader,” she shot back, surprising herself with the steadiness in her tone. She sounded almost defiant, like she was talking to General Sorrengail instead of the infamous Xaden Riorson. 

He raised an eyebrow, though she couldn’t see it in the dim light. His posture shifted, radiating authority. “I thought I asked first,” he said, his words dripping with the kind of superiority only someone in his position could muster. “And you shouldn’t talk back to those above you.” 

Genevieve resisted the urge to roll her eyes. His presence was as suffocating as ever, and the power dynamics at Basgiath were always exhausting. “I’m watching the sunrise,” she answered bluntly, her voice laced with mild annoyance. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, after all. “Is that what you wanted to hear, wingleader?” 

Xaden’s dark eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. His gaze was sharp, almost calculating, as though he were piecing together a puzzle. The riders in this quadrant didn’t get up early for trivial things like sunrises. They used every spare moment to rest, knowing full well how grueling the days were. No one with any sense would climb a rock wall slick with dew to see the sun rise. No one, that is, except her. 

“Most first years would rather be resting,” he said slowly, his tone tinged with suspicion. “Yet here you are, alone, watching the sunrise. Why?” 

Genevieve met his glaze evenly, refusing to flinch under his intense scrutiny. It felt as though he could see through her, as though his eyes were searching for something deeper, some hidden motivation. “You can’t afford to miss a sunrise if you don’t know when the next one will come,” she replied, her voice steady, almost philosophical. “And maybe I prefer the peace of the sunrise over the tension of the dorm halls.” 

Xaden’s expression shifted, a hint of something darker passing over his features. “Peace,” she said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is a luxury you can’t afford at Basgiath. Especially if you keep making enemies.” 

Her eyes flashed with defiance. “Who says I’m making enemies?” she shot back, the words sharp. “I’m just minding my own business.” 

And trying to carry out my mission. 

Xaden’s lips curled into a smirk, the kind that sent a chill down her spine. His eyes, flecked with gold, gleamed in the low light of dawn. “Careful, first year,” he warned, his voice a whisper of amusement mixed with something else she couldn’t quite name. “Minding your own business doesn’t mean the rest of us will mind ours.” 

Genevieve’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t back down. “Is that a threat?” she asked, voice hard. 

His smirk widened, but his tone softened, almost gentle now, though the tension between them was palpable. “No,” he whispered, stepping closer. “It’s a warning. You have no idea what you’re playing with.” 

Her eyes narrow. What does he know?

“And do you?” she countered, her pulse quickening. There was something about the way he looked at her, like he was peeling back layers of armor she’d spent years crafting. 

For a brief moment, Xaden didn’t answer. His gaze lingered on her face, taking in the scar that ran from her jaw to just beneath her eye. It was a scar that told a story of violence and survival, a story he seemed to recognize. It was a scar that told a story of violence and survival, a story he seemed to recognize. She wasn’t just a first year cadet. She was someone who had been through hell and returned, a kindred spirit in a way. 

“I’m playing a game of survival, cadet,” he finally said, voice low, almost reflective. 

“My name is Genevieve Hale, not ‘cadet.’” She snapped, frustrated with being reduced to nothing more than a rank, than a number. 

“I know,” he replied, a strange glint in his eyes. “I knew your sister.” 

The revelation struck her like a blow to the chest, leaving her momentarily speechless. Before she could respond, Xaden turned and walked toward a hidden door at the side of the tower. Just as he reached it, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. 

“Oh, and just for future reference,” he added casually, “don’t climb the side of the tower. There’s a staircase for a reason.” 

And with that, he disappeared, leaving Genevieve alone on the rooftop with nothing but the fading stars and the slowly rising sun. The dawn had finally broken, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, but the warmth it brought did little to chase away the chill that Xaden’s words had left behind. 

—---------------------------------------------

The reading of the death roll feels hurried to Genevieve, too rushed for her liking. These are names of the dead—people whose lives were snuffed out in an instant. Yet, they are only granted the briefest of acknowledgments before being commended to Malek, the god of death, for the small mistakes they made. Maybe they missed a step on a slick stone bridge, or maybe fear caught up with them at the wrong moment. Either way, their fates are sealed, and now their names are burned into fleeting memory, only to fade just as quickly. The moment is somber, but it passes almost as swiftly as the names themselves. The cadets are dismissed soon after, the wingleaders and squad leaders shepherding the first years with an almost mechanical precision. For the second and third years, the movements are routine, practiced—this chaos is second nature to them. 

“First years, at least one of you better have memorized your academic schedule but now!” Dain Aetos, Genevieve’s squad leader’s voice booms, carrying over the squad with an air of forced authority that Genevieve can’t help but find slightly ridiculous. She fights the urge to roll her eyes as he continues, “Stick together. I expect every single one of you to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym.” 

Sparring. Genevieve’s heart skips with excitement at the word. Sparring? I forgot about that! Genevieve smiles, her time is coming. This is where she excels. 

Meanwhile, Violet, standing just a few feet away, is having the opposite reaction. Sparring? Fuck! I forgot about that. A grimace pulls at her features, and she looks visibly uncomfortable. Rhiannon, caught between the two, shifts awkwardly, trying to manage the whirlwind of emotions on either side of her. Genevieve’s bubbling excitement is more than Rhiannon could ever imagine being on her face, and Violet’s distress couldn’t be more obvious. 

“Sawyer!” Dain calls out, interrupting the moment. Sawyer, a repeat first year, snaps his head up at the sound of his name. Genevieve has heard the rumors—Sawyer failed to bond with a dragon during last year’s Threshing and now faces the grueling ordeal of repeating the first year all over again. Genevieve can’t imagine anything worse. She’d rather die than endure such humiliation. 

“I’ll get them there,” Sawyer says confidently, stepping up as the rest of the squad prepares to move. Dain and the upperclassmen stay behind as the first years break formation, leaving the second and third years behind. Now, all eyes are on Sawyer. 

“We’ve got twenty minutes to get to class,” he shouts at the group. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Grab your stuff and don’t be late.” Without waiting for anyone’s response, Sawyer strides ahead, leaving the rest of them scrambling to keep up. 

“That must be tough,” Rhiannon muses, glancing between Violet and Genevieve, who still refuse to directly speak to each other without her presence as a buffer. “Going through all this again, after anything.”

“Better than being dead,” quips a voice from behind them. Genevieve turns to see a smart-ass brunette from their quad, the first to put into words what she herself was thinking. A grin tugs at her lips—she likes him already. 

“Ridoc Gamlyn,” he replies, falling into step beside her. “You’re Genevieve Hale?” 

She nods, biting her tongue from saying something else stupid. 

“That’s true,” Violet chimes in unexpectedly, clearly agreeing with Ridoc’s earlier statement. 

“I heard that if a first year survives Threshing without bonding, they get another chance if they want it,” Rhiannon adds, still trying to engage Violet. “Isn’t that insane? They could just as easily die the second time around.” 

Her comment hangs in the air, and at some point, Violet slips out of the conversation with a quiet murmur, but Genevieve barely notices. Her attention is elsewhere. 

“Would you rather drop out?” Ridoc asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

Genevieve lets out a short laugh. “As if that was ever an option once you’re here.” 

Their conversation flows easily, without the tension that Violet’s presence seems to bring. Genevieve feels the squad beginning to gel, to form something cohesive and solid. In this moment, she knows that they’ll make it—that this group will stick together. It feels safe, steady, like no one here is going to die anytime soon. For the first time in a long time, Genevieve allows herself a sliver of hope. 

—---------------------------------------

Geneiveve’s eyes swept across the sparring gym, meticulously noting who was present and who wasn’t. She labeled each of the squads, organizing them first by the amount of students per year—one group of first, second, and third years from each wing from various squads. Among them was Jack Barlowe, the boy Violet couldn’t seem to escape. Genevieve expected a fierce match between the two of them, especially since today’s challenges were chosen by the cadets themselves, and she was a Sorrengail—a thoroughly created and purposefully prepared weapon. 

Today was just for assessments, but Violet’s anxiety was tangible, almost electric in the air. An off putting contrast to the preconceived notion Genevieve held of her.

”You’re really nervous about this?” Rhiannon asked, her surprise genuine. “I mean, you’re a Sorrengail, you’d think a Sorrengail kid would be bred for battle.” 

Exactly my thoughts, Genevieve confirmed in her own head, but didn’t say it out loud. 

“My sister and brother were,” Violet replied, her voice edged with frustration. “I was trained to be a scribe. That’s why I’m so good at battle briefings, history, physics, everything that’s based on knowledge. But hand-to-hand? That’s where I suck.”

“I could offer some tips on surviving combat training,” Sawyer chimed in from Rhiannon’s other side. “History’s not really my thing, though.” 

Rhiannon’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “How about a trade? We help you with combat, and you help us with history. Deal, Sawyer? Violet?”

“Absolutely,” Sawyer said, extending his hand. 

“Deal,” Violet agreed, though her throat tightened as her hand met his. She half-smiled, her mind still half-worried. “But I think I’m getting the better end of this.”

Sawyer turned to Genevieve, who had been standing nearby, quietly observing the conversation. “What about you, Genevieve? Are you in?” 

“No,” she replied flatly, her attention fixed on the mats. 

“Oh, come on, you must struggle with something,” Rhiannon teased. “What about battle brief? You didn’t say a word in class. Violet could help.” 

My stamina is more than lacking right now, maybe I should– no! Genevieve, what are you thinking?

“No,” Genevieve repeated, more firmly. “I’m not asking Sorrengail for help, and I’m not training her.” 

Sawyer and Rhiannon exchanged glances, sensing the rising tension between the two girls. 

“What if I need combat help?” Rhiannon pressed, her lie barely convincing. “I could help you with physics. I saw how lost you were in class.” 

Genevieve rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny it. Physics had always been a struggle, and Rhiannon’s offer was more than tempting. She sighed, rubbing her forehead in annoyance before giving in. 

“Fine. But Violet’s your responsibility.” 

Rhiannon and Sawyer exchanged satisfied nods, saying in unison, “Deal.” 

The moment was interrupted when Rhiannon was called to spar with a boy named Tynan, and Violet was paired against a second-year with striking pink hair. As they left for their matches, Violet whispered a prayer under her breath, hoping today wouldn’t be the day she met her end. 

Genevieve remained, her focus unwavering as she waited for her own match to be called. 

“Hale! Barlowe! Third mat!” came Emeterrior’s call, snapping her to attention. 

Jack Barlowe, despite already having fought earlier, looked ready for another round. He stood at the edge of the mat, grinning with overconfidence, his body loose as he stretched. He’d already killed one opponent today, and his newfound reputation for brutality hung in the air like a dark cloud. But Genevieve wasn’t shaken. 

Her muscles coiled with anticipation, her heart hammering a relentless rhythm in her chest. She lived for this—the clash of fists, the thrill of the fight. She rolled her shoulders, loosening up as she locked eyes with Jack. His grin widened, a mockery of what was to come. 

“Ready to dance, traitor?” he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn. 

Genevieve didn’t respond. Her silence was her answer as she shifted into a fighting stance, light on her feet. The signal was given. 

Jack struck first, a quick jab aimed at her head. Genevieve dodged it effortlessly, countering with a swift low kick. He blocked it with his shin, the force of the impact vibrating through both of them. They circled each other like two predators stalking their prey, exchanging blows without yielding ground. 

Jack had power, each of his hits packed with raw strength, but Genevieve was faster. She wove through his attacks, ignoring the thrum of her heart and how out of breath she was, slipping just out of reach with each lunge. Jack tried to grab her, but she spun away, delivering a sharp punch to his ribs. He grunted, momentarily winded, but recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing. 

“You’re out of breath,” he muttered through gritted teeth, taunting her. “It’s not even been ten minutes. You can’t keep this up.” 

He advanced again, more calculated this time. Genevieve could see his tactic—he was trying to corner her, limit her space to maneuver. She let him think he was succeeding, catching a few fleeting breaths as she backed up toward the edge of the mat. His confidence swelled, and as he prepared for what he believed would be the decisive blow, she made her move. 

In a fluid spin, Genevieve swept her leg low, knocking Jack’s feet out from under him. He hit the mat hard, breath rushing from his lungs. She followed with a precise knee to his chest, pinning him down, her forearm pressing into his throat. His eyes widened in shock, the weight of defeat settling in. 

Leaning in close, Genevieve’s breathless voice was cold, barely more than a whisper. “If you ever even think about going after Sorrengail, I’ll make sure this mat is the least of your worries.”

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Jack’s chest heaved as he struggled for breath, his gaze locked onto hers, searching for any sign of mercy. But there was none. She was unrelenting, her grip firm. 

Finally, with a tap on the mat, he surrendered. 

Genevieve stepped back, releasing him. Jack coughed, scrambling up to his feet, his pride more battered than his body. She extended a hand to help him up, but he ignored it, mumbling, “you’re lucky this ended before your lack of air caught up to you.” 

“And you’re weak,” she shot back, her voice sharp as steel. “Next time you call someone a traitor, make sure you can back it up.” 

As she walked off, Ridoc, Sawyer, and Rhiannon shared a glance, none of the daring to say a word as she passed. 

“Remind me never to get on her bad side,” Sawyer murmured, still processing the scene. 

“Poor Violet,” Rhiannon added, imagining what awaited her friend in the upcoming challenges. 

Ridoc grinned. “Was it just me, or was that kind of hot?” 

Rhiannon cast a side-eye at the boy standing next to her. “You’re weird.” 

—---------------------------------

On the rooftop the next morning, Genevieve sat alone, a small, rare smile tugging at her lips. Above her, the sky was still painted with stars, shimmering clear against the deep blue of pre-dawn, and a silence enveloped her in a way that felt almost sacred. The world lay in a still slumber, save for the gentle calls of morning doves echoing from the treetops. This quiet moment felt like a glimpse of peace—a fleeting grace amid all the turmoil, a reminder of something she’d nearly forgotten.

The creak of the stairwell door broke the silence, followed by the soft thud of heavy footsteps. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. 

“I didn’t realize this would become a morning ritual, Hale.” Xaden’s deep voice broke the silence, and he settled beside her, leaving enough space for comfort. Together, they dangled their feet over the edge of the roof, letting the wind brush past them like a shared secret. 

She shrugged lighty. “Neither did I.” Her voice was soft, stripped of its usual edge, as if it, too, was still waking up. 

They sat in silence for a while, the sky brightening with every passing second, casting the world in a gentle glow. 

“What happened yesterday, on the mat?” he asked, his voice almost hesitant. 

Genevieve’s expression tightened. “Barlowe called me a traitor,” she muttered, bitterness lining her words. “I’ve done nothing to betray Navarre. Whatever my father did or my sister had done, I was kept in the dark.” 

Xaden gave a slow nod, his gaze distant. “Yeah, it’s hard to be called a traitor, believe me I know,” he murmured. “You really don’t know anything about them? About your father, or your sister?” 

“I mean, I know who they are, I just don’t know what they did.” She shook her head, her mind turning back to memories she rarely revisited. “When my father became a general, I was nine. My mom didn’t want us following him around, so we moved in with my grandmother in Aretia. My father visited maybe once a year after that. My mom trained my sister and I at her mother’s house until my sister had to leave for Basgiath, and the same week she left for Basgiath, the entire rebellion collapsed. My father died fighting General Sorrengail and my sister was somewhere along the road on the way to Basgiath. Three years later, my sister was killed in some petty skirmish.” She looked away, her gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden warmth over her face. 

Xaden was quiet, watching her. Then, he spoke carefully. “Our fathers believed in the same vision, the same freedom.” 

And she looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as a surge of emotions overwhelmed her—confusion, betrayal, anger. She’d been kept in the dark her entire life, punished for things she’d never even know. Her fists clenched, nails pressing into her palms. 

She was always hidden from that world. She didn’t know anything. 

“So everyone hates me because of his choices. I’m guilty by blood.” 

“It’s more than that,” Xaden nodded. “To them, we’re a symbol. A reminder of the wounds they carry—wounds that are still bloody and raw.” 

Genevieve’s jaw tightened. “But I had no choice in this. I didn’t even know.”

His gaze softened, a flicker of understanding—or was that… guilt—flashed in his eyes. “I know. So I’m telling you now. You deserve to know just as much as I do. But it won’t change how they see you. You’ll always be fighting against their perception, their hate.” 

She looked away once more, her gaze on the dawn’s growing light. As she took in the world bathed in the morning glow, she felt a strange clarity settling within her. “I won’t be defined by their hate or my father’s actions. I want to be my own person, make my own choices.” 

Xaden’s tone was firm, almost challenging. “Then you need to decide what you’re going to do with your truth. You can let it weigh you down, or you can use it to prove them wrong. To rise beyond their hate.” 

The words hung between them, and for a moment, she felt everything she had lost, and everything she had yet to gain. She took a shaky breath. “Easier said than done.” she huffed. 

Xaden’s gaze flickered to her shoulder, but he remained fully in place, steady as stone. “You can.” 

She met his gaze, feeling the fire in his eyes light something within her. “I guess then I’ll survive. And I’ll fight. But for me this time.” 

A shadow of a smile touched his lips. “You’re so weirdly confusing and cryptic.” 

She shrugged. “It takes one to know one.” 

Silence settled once more, and the sun finally broke the horizon. 

“I guess we’re both just trying to outrun our fathers’ shadows, aren’t we?” 

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice gruff. “But maybe it’s not about running. Maybe it’s about learning to live with them and become something more.” 

The golden rays of light stretched across the world, filling her with a quiet, determined strength. “So I’ll become something more. Something better.” 

And as the morning rays of the sun crested the horizon, casting their warmth over Basgiath, Genevieve felt a new resolve settle within her heart. With each dawn, she would rebuild herself from the ashes of her past, a phoenix forged from fire and defiance.

---------------------------

Hey everyone! New update here~ I tried to get this out within a timely manner because I knew you guys were waiting!

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, kudo, heart or whatever it is called and comment! I want to know what everything is thinking!

see you guys soon~

[allied-mastercuntputer]

unexpected.

after your planned date with tim takes an unexpected turn, you show him just how full of surprises you are…

word count: <500

warnings: not proof read…i kinda raw dogged this :p no use of y/n

notes: omg first thing of writing on here…im an autobiographical writer, haven’t touched fanfic since i was like 10. with that being said if i proof read it i won’t have the guts to post it. there will be better writing on my blog i promise. also super late for valentine’s day but it rained when i love the day of and no other day of the week n i thought it was funny.

“You told me you checked the weather Tim.”

You had called your boyfriend to let him know that a picnic wasn’t going to work. As soon as you woke up, the noise of rain pattered on your apartment’s roof, hitting you with the reality that being outside wasn’t an option.

“I did! Today is the first time this month it’s rained! But uhhhh should we do the Mary’s?” He tried to remedy the situation with the Italian restaurant in your university neighborhood.

“We go there all the time, can we do something special since it’s Valentine’s Day baby?” You smiled into the phone receiver. You knew he melted into man pudding when you called him baby and used that tone.

“Oh uhh-“ evidence of your work, “Anything you want. Maybe the rink and then hot chocolate after?”

“It’s a date.” You smiled, perfect time to show Tim what he didn’t know about you on the ice.

❅ ❅ ❅

Tim came to pick you up, you made sure to put on a raincoat. Not only to protect yourself from getting soaked, but also to reveal your outfit to your boyfriend in the car.

“Oh look at you, expecting to get some laps in?” He joked at the expense of your lululemon attire

“I like my pink define jacket, thank you very much”

“Hey! I like it too, definitely…tight. Hugs the right pla-“ You slap him on the shoulder, “Ow! Do you even know how to skate babe?”

This was your moment. Should you lie and wow him? Or should you tell the truth and loose your novelty? You lie.

“No actually, you’ll have to teach me.”

“That’s great actually, then you can’t let go of me-“ he smiled like an idiot before you interrupted him

“Don’t push it”

“Yes ma’am”

❅ ❅ ❅

You try not to be suspicious. ‘Act like you’re nervous, get shaky the first few minutes-‘

“Hey babe, need help with your skates?” Tim is an angel. As much as he likes to talk dirty, he genuinely cares and you always know it.

“Oh uhm, yes please”

“No problem.” he got on his knees and laced your skates up, “They need to be super tight, but not so tight you can’t bend your knees beyond a certain point.” Nobody could wipe the smile he had off his face. He was just happy to be teaching his girlfriend how to skate on Valentine’s Day.

“Thank you Tim. I feel like Cinderella, only my shoe has a sharp blade on it and my prince charming doesn’t know how to check the weather.” You giggle at his expense

“Im sure I’m a much better prince charming than whatever that guy had going on. Now stand up and see if it’s comfortable.”

“Perfect! Oh! I mean uhhh-“ You can’t let the jig be up, “Ouch super tight but I’ll be okay!”

Tim looks at you funny, but thought nothing if it, “Alright let’s go.”

❅ ❅ ❅

You can’t even stand it. You’ve been pretending to be awful at skating for almost 30 minutes. The real truth? You were on a figure skating scholarship just like how Tim was on a hockey one. You’d been skating since middle school and it had become a sport you loved deeply. You and Tim had been together for eight months, but the topic never really came up due to you thinking there were far more important things to your character.

“Can I try by myself?” your posture was awful, but it as about to be perfect in about 5 seconds

“Remember what I taught you about falling on your butt and not your face?”

It took so much not to roll your eyes, “Ill try not to fall because you like both of those things about me. think I’m okay.”

“Great! Let’s see you do 5 feet ahead. Go at any pace you want.”

You nodded, kissing him on the cheek. You immediately shifted into better posture, stopped shaking , and started skating at the pace you wanted, like he said. You begin with fluid crossovers, transitioning into quick footwork. With a push, you launch into a simple jump, landing with precision. You could feel the air whipping past your face as you gained speed. Your body twists and turns effortlessly, soon you’re skating circles around your boyfriend, who couldn’t do anything but look at you in shock. You stop right next to him.

“Was that okay?”

“Was that okay?? What are you doing studying here! People get injured all the time at the olympics I’m sure you could fill in and it would make no difference” He laughed in complete shock, “How long have you been skating for?

“More than 10 years”

“We should definitely take this to my place. You’ve won my heart. Not that you didn’t before I just- let’s go babe.”

“No I’m actually having so much fun!”

[notsoattractivearenti]

You’re Safe With Me (Mason Mount x Reader)

WC: 1.6K

Warning/Tags: toxic mother-child relationship, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, cursing, angst, protective!bf

A/N: i really didn’t feel good today, so had to channel my negative emotions into the healthiest way possible (aka writing). this one's really angsty, tho dw it has a happy ending. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (ps: if you want to be added in my taglist just lmk!)

—

Even though you are an adult with a good job and stable income, you still live under the same roof as your mum. She is a single mother, and as her only child and family, you didn’t have the heart to leave her on her own. You care so much for your mother, yet she has never exactly been kind to you since you were little. She never physically hurt you, no, but her words have never failed to leave scars inside your heart. And by living with her, that means you constantly have to face her spiteful words and feeling helpless.

You met your boyfriend, Mason through a mutual friend 6 months ago. Knowing how famous he is, at first you thought he would never be interested in a nobody like you, but you were glad you were wrong. You and him clicked right away, and a month later, you both decided to be in a committed relationship.

You have never felt so truly loved before Mason came into your life. Constantly got brought down by your own mother, you always thought you don’t deserve love even from yourself. But Mason shows you that you deserve everything good in the world, and he helps you gain your self-esteem and change your negative view of yourself. He sees through you, loving you for everything you are, and makes you believe unconditional love is not just a myth.

Mason asked you to move in with him to Manchester last week, and after having long talks through the phone for days, you decided to accept it. It might sound fast, but you were really certain it’s the best decision and truly excited to live with the love of your life. But the hardest thing to do is to tell your mum you’re going to move in with your boyfriend, which means you have to relocate to another city. You have always wanted to live on your own, and though you feel guilty, you finally think it’s time to live the life you’ve dreamt of even if it also means you have to leave your mum.

Today, you finally have the courage to tell your mum you’re moving out soon. And of course, she doesn’t respond well.

“I didn’t raise you to be a selfish brat like you are today!” She yells at you.

“Excuse me? Selfish brat you say? How am I fucking selfish, Mum???” You can’t comprehend being called so by her.

“The way you want to move away and leave me to, and I quote, ‘living my life the way it should have been’, doesn’t that sound selfish to you? Stop thinking about yourself, Y/N! The fucking world doesn’t revolve around you!” She continues yelling.

“I have dedicated my life for you, Mum. I have basically lived to ‘serve’ you. I respected you, tolerated your actions no matter how badly those might affect me, I cared for you…” Your voice starts to break, “...because I love you. But I’m sorry, I’m not a superhuman and I have my limits...”

“Bullshit!” She denies. “You ‘serve’ me no shit. I gave up my exciting, beautiful life to raise a child who turned out to be an ungrateful person. If you really love me, you will not leave me. Let alone to live with some guy.”

“He is not just some guy, Mason is a guy who loves me. And genuinely cares about me. He makes me happy and helps me realise that I deserve so much better, Mum!”

“I deserve so much better!” She shouts even louder while aggressively pointing at herself. “And please, you just want his fucking money and fame. Why would a guy like him fall in love with a self-absorbed wretch like you?”

Her words, as always, instantly break your heart into a million pieces. You love her dearly, but you aren’t sure if she loves you too, though you know one thing for sure: in her eyes, you will always be on the wrong side.

“I…” You are completely shocked by your mother’s response and at that moment, you can no longer hold back your tears. You run back into your room, lock the door and cry your heart out.

—

After calming yourself down for a little while, you grab your phone to video call your boyfriend. You really need someone to talk to, and he is the one who can easily comfort you.

“Hey, baby!” Mason picks up the phone, he looks excited to see you.

“Hey…” You whimper, your eyes are still red but you try to conceal your sadness.

He immediately becomes very concerned. “Y/N… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” You shake your head weakly. “Just had another fight with my mum…”

“Fuck.” He instantly knows your mum doesn’t take the news well. “Please, whatever it was, don’t listen to anything she said about you. You are not whatever she said you are.”

“I feel like I am… She is right, I’m a selfish brat for leaving her.” I start crying

He is heartbroken to see how much your mum has wounded you deeply. He would do everything he can to help you look at yourself beyond your mum’s hurtful words – because he knows how unpleasant your mother is and that you are nothing like your mum would say.

“Stop it Y/N! You are not selfish to think about yourself! You truly matter, baby. Your feelings are valid. She has treated you like shit all your life, even God knows you deserve to live a better life away from her.” He assures you.

You can’t seem to say anything, you just really feel like shit.

Worried about your wellbeing, Mason takes an impulsive but necessary decision at the moment for your sake. He doesn't want you to suffer any longer; he just has to get you out of there as soon as possible.

“Y/N, go pack your things. I’m going to book a flight right now and pick you up. It’s time to leave… I’ll be there in no time.”

You actually have packed most of your belongings days ago, so you let him know you’re practically good to go.

“Good. See you soon, my love.” He hangs up the phone.

—

Hours later, Mason informs you with a text that he is coming to your house. Once you hear Mason’s car pulling over, you say goodbye to your room then bring your belongings downstairs. You want to leave without saying goodbye to your mum because you don’t want to hear her saying whatever she is going to say. You open the door quietly and Mason is about to help you when you see your mum catch you before you even leave the house.

“Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?” Your mum runs toward you and tries to harshly grab your arm but Mason denies her.

“Stay away from Y/N.” He says as he points at her. He then tells you to leave your belongings and get into the car immediately – you follow his direction right away.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!?”

“I’m someone who will love Y/N and protect them. Because their mother obviously can’t do her one fucking job.” He calls her out.

“Fuck you!” She fumes. “They’re my child, I fucking raised them, I have the right to know everything about them and do whatever I want to them!”

“They’re a fucking adult who gets to do whatever they want, including leaving a horrible mother like you. You have no right to control them. The only person who gets to control their life is themselves.” He defends you.

“I beg to differ.” She scoffs. “You’re just a little kid talking nonsense.”

“Listen to me, Y/M/N.” He speaks so intensely to your mum. “From now on, you are out of their life. They are going to live the life they deserve. You are no longer allowed to interfere with their life in any fucking way or any circumstances.”

“Oh please, you can try to keep us apart however you want but they’re going to need their mother, arsehole.” She replies as she sneers at him.

“Y/N has my mum who loves them as her own child. They will never need you, Y/M/N. And sooner or later, you’re going to realise what a good child they’ve always been, how much your life depended on them, and what a horrible mother you have always been.”

Before your mum gets to say anything else, Mason walks out of the house with your belongings in his hands, slams the door on her face and gets into the car. You see how visibly angry he is the moment he gets out of your mum’s house, though you know he is angry for you. You haven’t stopped tearing up ever since before Mason came to pick you up, but the tears are falling down on your face even more now – but this time, those are the tears of freedom, the tears of joy. The second Mason got out of the house, you know you’re finally safe. Him and his family are your safe haven now and you can’t wait to finally be around people who are genuinely supportive of you. Most importantly: you are safe without your mother, the one person you love so much but couldn’t even appreciate even the littlest thing about her one and only child.

As Mason gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car, he notices you are crying. 

“Hey, hey, you’re all good now, baby.” He reaches an arm out and rubs your shoulder, then wipes away your tears with his fingers. “You’re going to be okay.”

You nod your head and hold his hand.

“Thank you, Mase.”

“Don’t mention it, my love.” He continues rubbing your shoulder to comfort you. “As long as I’m living, you’re safe with me.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[yunhosgirl26]

Teach Me (Yunho fanfic)

Chapter 2

Warning: sexually explicit content, talks of abuse, pet names (Princess, bunny) , daddy k!nk

A/N: Please feel free to comment and like. Thank you for reading!

———————————————————————————

*flashback*

I knocked on the door, waiting for an answer. The door opened, and a tall man stood in front of me leaning on the edge. “Hi, I’m (Y/n) your new roommate.” He laughed. “You’re a girl.” I looked down at myself and back up at him. “Last time I checked, yes I am.” He let me in. “I thought you were going to be a man. Oh well, would you like me to carry your bags upstairs?”

“No, thank you.” I grabbed my bags and carried them upstairs. He showed me my room and I set my things in there. He finished showing me around the house. “That’s just about it. Rent is only $500 that includes the groceries for the house. I usually pay most of the bills. Please make yourself at home. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs playing my game.” He said. “Wait, what’s your name? I never got it.” He turned around and smiled. “My name is Jeong Yunho but you can call me Yunho.” We shook hands and I went to go settle in my new room.

I remember for weeks, my mom was giving me shit about moving in with a complete stranger. When she first found out, she wasn’t happy in the slightest, which I didn’t expect her to be. But that’s when I realized this is my life, and I’m a grown ass woman. When I told Yunho about my mother’s concerns, he was genuinely concerned himself. “Why did you move in with a stranger anyway?” He asked. “Well when I saw your profile picture I knew you were trustworthy…” he looked at me with a blank expression. “Okay, fine, I really needed to get away from my abusive ass ex and I had nowhere to go.” His mouth dropped. “Like hitting you?” I nodded. “Rarely did he hit me, but he mentally and verbally abused me.” Tears threatened to fall from my eyes. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” The room grew quiet and he hugged me. My eyes widened as tears fell from my eyes. “As long as you’re under this roof. You’re always going to be protected.” I cried. “Thank you.”

From that day forward, he’s been very protective of me ever since.

I began making dinner, so it was ready for when Yunho came home. I went upstairs and showered, hoping the ache in my core would go away. I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. I let out a frustrated sigh. I got dressed and went to take lunch to Yunho since he forgot to pack it. He was the CEO of some skin care company. I guess it’s doing really well. He doesn’t tell me much about it.

I went up the elevator to the highest floor to the receptionist.

“Hi, how may I assist you today?” She smiled. “I’m here to drop off Yunho’s lunch.” her smile dropped. “I can take it for you, he’s in a meeting.” She said. “No I’m not.” Yunho walked out of his office. “Sir, you have a meeting right now.” He gave her a blank expression. “Then cancel it. This is more important to me.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his office. “It was nice of you to bring me lunch, but I’m not hungry for that right now.” He said, hovering over me, his lips close to mine.I smiled nervously. “What exactly are you hungry for then?” I asked. “Strip for me.” He whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine. “But what if someone sees me?” He pinned me up against the wall with his body.

“Don’t make daddy repeat himself.” I bit my lip, unbuttoning my shirt as I kept eye contact with him. Piece by piece all my clothes fell onto the floor leaving me exposed to him. A feral look in his eyes as he looked over my body. “Your body is driving me so crazy, you’re so pretty like this, my sweet girl.” He walked around me like an animal stalking its prey, taking in the scene he was beholding. I grew desperate for his touch as minutes passed. Finally, I felt his fingertips dig into my waist as he pressed himself up against me from behind. “Do you like making me feel like this? Hmm? Do you like when I can barely control my urges?” He said while attacking my neck. He bit down softly, making me squeak.

“You’re just so damn irresistible, I just can’t help myself.” He marked my neck with hickeys, claiming me as his. I laid my head back on his shoulder lost in his touch, totally forgetting anyone can walk in at any moment.

“Please daddy…” I said, softly moaning. “What does my princess want?” He cooed. “Do you want me to fuck this pretty pussy mercilessly up against this desk? Making you scream my name, so everyone knows you are mine?” He nibbled on my ear, I felt lightheaded as I could feel his excitement. “I just want to make my sweet girl feel good.” He picked me up, pulling me into a sensual kiss. He knocked all his paperwork to the floor, setting me on his desk. He undid his tie and tied it around my wrists, his body pinning mine down.

“Remember our safe word?” I nodded.

He spread my legs open, kissing my inner thighs. His breath grazing my core, making me shudder. “You’re so wet for me.” He groaned. “It’s taking everything in me not to just take you on this desk. “Yunho..” I whined. The pads of his fingers slowly rubbed circles on my sensitive bundle. “want to be good girl for you.” I could barely speak in sentences as his pace quickened. With his other hand, he fondled my breast, playing with my nipple until it became hard. “Such a good little bunny for me.” He inserted 1 finger in my dripping core. “So good…aah, feels so good.”

He began to kiss me, deepening the kiss by exploring my mouth with his tongue. I moaned as his curved his fingers hitting my sensitive spot, I felt myself coming undone. That’s when I felt a stinging sensation on my wet heat. “No cumming unless I say you can.” I whimpered at the pain and pleasure I was feeling. He began moving down until he was face to face with my hole. He groaned as he gazed at my glistening wet folds. He licked his lips as he began sucking on my clit. I arched my back as that coil in my lower belly felt like it was going to snap at any second.

It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t touch him. I tried to untie my wrists, but it was no use. “You taste so good.” He said as he plunged his tongue into my cunt. The warm wet muscle felt so good. I was trying to be quiet, but I couldn’t help myself. “You’re so close.” He said sucking my clit more. “Show me how much of a good girl you are and cum for me princess.” As soon as those words left his lips, I began seeing white. Pleasure of the orgasm ripping through my body as he continued to keep going, and I couldn’t take the overstimulation. I began to cry. “I know my good girl has one more good one in her.” He wasn’t wrong, I felt like I was going to cum again and again with that magical mouth of his.

“I can’t wait to ruin you with my cock.”

“I need it.” He laughed. “Not yet, I’m waiting for the perfect time to give it to you.” I whined as he pulled away with my arousal covering his face. He finger fucked the orgasm right out of me as his thumb worked my clit. “Oh Fuck, Yunho!” He smirked. “That’s it, pretty girl, come undone for me.” My legs began shaking and I was panting heavy. He then put his fingers to my mouth and I sucked them clean, tasting the sweetness.

He helped me off his desk and untied my wrists. “Come here you.” I straddled his lap, he looked into my eyes and kissed me. He then covered me with his jacket and snuggled me in his office chair. “This is called aftercare. I like to show it to my subs because it makes them feel more like a person who is loved and less of an object.” I smiled. “I like this.” He kissed my forehead and rubbed my back.

After a while, I got dressed and went home. When I walked past the receptionist, she shot me a dirty glare. I think she knew what we were doing, my face began to burn red. I got home and took a nap my head was spinning from what just happened. Such an innocent thing like lunch, turned into that!

To be continued…

[layla4567]

I'm just a librarian ✿

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work in a library in the middle of London, you get paid well and you love your little reading space surrounded by books that rise to the highest ceiling. But one day your normality will be turned upside down when a guy comes looking for some books on Egyptian history.

A/N: Ok first of all I must say that this idea arose from a little dream I had (and I also wanted to use the image from the movie The Mummy, I mean, just look at her, she is beautiful, she looks like Belle) second, I don't know if this will have more parts the truth is I'm not good at making long stories because then I leave them unfinished or I run out of ideas so, yes, I'm building this as I go along, sorry.

Part 2

And here I am once again, sitting behind the counter where you could see an old green lamp, a couple of books stacked one on top of the other, a typewriter and a little badge where you could read my name. With my legs crossed I moved my airborne foot rhythmically back and forth following a silent melody while my face rested lazily on my hand. My view was always directed towards the large windows that were near the line where the roof began. They were in the shape of a half circle and had a nice drawing similar to a stained glass window through which the sunlight passed in a warm way.

I loved being around libraries just for the sake of being a bookworm. I could spend hours reading old books sitting in a comfortable chair enjoying the silence without realizing it. But it was kind of boring to sit and wait for people to arrive so that you could help them with whatever they needed. I had already finished arranging the books with the help of the ladder, I loved doing it, it was fun to slide from one side to the other, it was almost like skating.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone had entered the library until they were in front of me so I gave a little jump in my seat.

"Oh so sorry! did I scare you? It wasn't my intention"

The person who addressed me was a very polite and kind middle-aged man, he had an innocent look in those pretty dark eyes he had. He was wearing a jean jacket and underneath was a white shirt, he was also wearing khaki pants and had a brown shoulder strap on one side.

"Don't worry, It's okay, I was just thinking, can I help you with something?"

I could not stop seeing his eyes, his look gave off a peculiar innocence glow, I could sense a genuinely beautiful aura like that of a child

"Well, yes. I was looking for books on Egyptian history, you know, gods and pharaohs, myths, pyramids, etc."

Every time he spoke his face would light up with enthusiasm, it was admirable to see

"Sure, we have several. Follow me please"- I said while my smile deepened

I led him through the aisles looking for the "Ancient Egypt" section by the gigantic shelves. The man meekly followed me like a lap dog without taking his eyes off me as he clung to his backpack. When we had reached the section, I took out 4 books, stacking them one on top of the other and numbering them as I handed them over to him.

" "History of Egypt", "Gods and mythologies", "Encyclopedia of the pyramids" and "The 10 most famous figures of ancient Egypt" And remember to return everything within 15 days "

I piled the books in the arms of that man who tried with effort to hold them since they were quite large and hardcover while I raised a finger and recited the prayer from memory. Even though the books were about to fall out of his hands, the man looked from the books to me with a beaming smile.

"Of course, yes, miss, I will do so. Thank you very much for your help"

I smiled generously at the man's good manners and walked him to my desk to finish the paperwork. I sat as the middle-aged man patiently watched me with his books in his arms like a child waiting for his Christmas present.

"Ok, I will give you a paper with the exact date where you must return the books along with our address, I would only need to know your name to write it down please"- I looked at him expectantly

"Steven Grant, Steven with a V"

I couldn't help but laugh at the clarification as if I didn't know how to write his name

"I clarify it just in case. A lot of people always misspell it, sometimes they call me Stephen. But surely you wrote it well, you seem to have nice handwriting hehe"

Steven giggled nervously as I smirked in amusement. What a singular man that Steven was

"No problem, what a nice name you have"- I smiled warmly

Steven got more nervous and his face begins to take on a cute reddish color as he stuttered and mumbled a thank you.

"By the way, my name is Y/n"

I told him, pointing with a fingernail to my badge that was resting on the desk. He looked at it for a while and smiled

"Now I won't forget"

And with one free hand he gave me a childish wave as he uttered a sweet "Laters gators" and headed for the exit. With one elbow on the table and my hand resting on my cheek, I watched him until he disappeared through the door.

"Steven.."

I pronounced his name slowly delighting myself with the syllables, it was sweet as honey and resonant as a bell. I was wondering if I would see him around here more often. I sighed with a lopsided smile and went back to staring at the stained glass windows waiting for someone else to come and help them.

The days passed and I didn't hear from Steven, he hadn't returned the books within the agreed period and I was beginning to worry. He supposed that this man was a little distracted or had forgotten or was busy with something important, anyway it was very common for people not to return the books on time and to be a little late. My head was full of thoughts hoping nothing bad happened to Steven and hoping to see him again when someone stormed through the library entrance.

"I'm really sorry!! I got there as fast as I could, apparently I fell asleep and woke up in a place full of sand. I have a sleep disorder, I'm sorry"

Steven was talking fast, spitting out the words like a machine gun, he looked agitated and his hair was messy. And on his face you could see the nervousness and concern. I tried to reassure him

"Steven, Steven calm down, it's okay. I get it, you don't have to apologize."

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard trying to provide warmth and protection. Steven giggled nervously and his cheeks turned pink, it was adorable.

"Oh by the way, here are the books"

Steven took out of his bag the books in perfect condition that I had given him. At least he was a man of his word

"Thank you very much Steven, do you want any other books?"

"Well actually yes, if it's not a bother, wouldn't you have one that talks about the moon god Khonsu?"-he said something nervous

I laughed in amusement

"Of course! We have many books on Egyptian gods, take the ones you want"-I said tenderly

Steven for some reason gave me a strange feeling, a maternal need to protect him, he looked so helpless at times. I can't even imagine how chaotic his life must be

"You know something? Why don't I buy you a coffee? I'll give you the new books and then we can hang out and chat, I have a break in 15 minutes."

Apparently Steven didn't expect that so he got even more red.

"I-Is it some kind of date?"

"If you want to see it that way, yes"

Steven smiled like a kid in a toy store and followed me back to the bookshelves. After giving him everything he needed, he waited for me at the entrance of the library like a true gentleman. I left my position in charge of my partner Selma who answered me with a grunt and left with Steven towards the nearest cafeteria.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

We sat at a table close to the street. The cafeteria was decorated with flowers and vines, it was my favorite, it made it look Parisian. We both ordered a simple latte and to eat I ordered a croissant with chocolate and he asked for a kind of vegan burrito, then he explained to me that he doesn't eat anything that comes from animals.

"Well Steven tell me something about yourself, do you have a job?"

"Yes, I'm working in a gift shop at the British Museum. But I would really love to be the one who makes the guides"

"Really? Amazing! who'd say? You are a museum and history enthusiast and I am a bookworm willing to provide you with all the information you want."

We both laughed happily forgetting what was happening around us. Steven's laugh was like sweet nectar to my ears that made all my worries disappear. Except for one that was still on my mind

"Wait a second, how come you woke up in a place full of sand? Where exactly?"

"I have no idea, I wish I knew. But it's not the first time it's happened to me, one day I woke up on top of Everest"

Steven started laughing downplaying it and I laughed too but with less enthusiasm. I was worried about him.

"Well I think I should go back to my work, thanks for everything I really needed to talk to someone and distract myself"

I looked at Steven tenderly, thinking that I was probably the only person he could talk to broke my heart.

"Anytime Steven. Anyway, I also have to go back to work, the time flies by when you talk"

I left a tip on the table and was about to go to the library when Steven stopped me with a question.

"Would you like to visit me one day at the museum? It's that I always visit you...-"

"I'd love to"

We said goodbye with a smile as if we were lifelong friends and each one went their own way to continue with their work on that beautiful afternoon in London.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sorry if it was boring and there wasn't much interaction with Steven but this is just the first part of the story

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

You don't need a tissue box.....yet

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 4

Snap

You woke up, your head pounding, you stomach turning, and you groaned. You threw the duvet off and got up realising you are still wearing your dress. You remembered Mor winnowing you home to the house and nothing else, you must have taken off your heels and jump into bed. You got ready for training, leaving your room to get breakfast hoping it will calm your nausea. You managed to find the dining room without any mistake this time and found everyone already sitting on the table munching down their breakfast, only Mor looked as bad as you, staring at the food like she would puke on top of it.

“Good morning you look like shit” “Always the charmer Cassian” Nesta replied before you could.

You noticed that the only empty chair was between Mor and Nesta, the one you used the other morning next to the spymaster was occupied by the annoyingly sweet girl. You felt an ache in your chest but ignored it taking a seat between the two beautiful females. Mor looked at you and smiled “Me and Nesta are planning to go to Rita’s tonight, would you like to come?” “Yes y/n Mor told me you had so much fun” Nesta almost screamed, a genuine smile on her face, her eyes shining. You couldn’t ignore how beautiful she looks like that.

“Of course” you smiled.

You felt a pair of eyes on you so you lifted your gaze meeting Azriel’s hazel ones. Some scenes flushed in your mind, him on the balcony staring the city bellow, your head on his shoulder, a smile on his face, you shook your head, a blush creeping on your face as you thought you dreamed of him last night. He sent you a curious look, slightly tensing but his focus turning to the girl next to him as she touched his shoulder and whispered something to him. Everyone at the table noticed their interaction but didn’t bother to acknowledge it as they continued what they were doing but with an annoyed look on their faces. “So, y/n are you training with Az again today?” It was Cassian who pulled your attention from the couple. Pulling also Azriel’s focus from the girl next to him. “I think so…” you replied your gaze falling to Azriel in a silent question.

“But Azzie I thought you could help me with my garden today” Elain -if you remember correct from what Mor told you last night- whined, you almost cringed at the high pitch noise.

“I’m sorry Elain” Azriel muttered a tight smile on his lips.

You thought about telling him that it’s okay, you could train tomorrow but your selfish side wanted his full attention, so you kept your mouth shut only offering Elain an apologetic smile. Azriel cleared his throat and stood up. “Are you ready?” he asked you, noticing that you were only playing with the food on your plate as you were feeling nauseous. You nodded and got up saying goodbye to the rest and following him to the balcony. At first you were curious, but then you remembered that Cassian was going to train the Valkyries on the roof, so you had to find another place.

“You know how to fly right?” Azriel questioned examining your wings that had faded scars at their base from the clipping you escaped. You nodded and flexed your wings shooting to the sky with a smile on your face. When you were younger you would sneak out of the room your parents kept you into with your brother and went on long flights, until your father caught you and threw you into a cell. However, you had the chance to fly again in the day court but not frequently since Helion kept your identity hidden in case someone informed Rhysand. You turned to see Azriel next to you his hair a mess from the wind smiling and enjoying the feeling of the sun closer to you two.

“Follow me” he shouted and dove in the clouds, you did as he asked, trying to keep your balance, it had been way too long since the last time you were able to fly so freely. Azriel noticed that and slowed down staying on your side in case you needed help. After some minutes you landed on a beautiful hill, full of fae flowers, you had seen them again, your mother used to have those she adored the way they sparkled at night. You thought of her, you didn’t know what the consequences for her were after helping you escape, you knew they wouldn’t be good.

“Let’s begin” Azriel announced taking a seat on the ground gesturing for you to do the same. The day went by quickly and you felt like you could almost control your shadows completely, not like Azriel of course who used them in his missions. You could keep them tight around you, let them flow away -not unnoticed by others- and inform you of their findings and use them to cover yourself -still not unnoticed by others-. It was a start though and Azriel was surprised by how quickly you followed his advises and managed to correct yourself without him pointing your mistakes.

Afternoon found you and Azriel sitting on the hill telling stories about times your shadows embarrassed you laughing freely. As time went by you completely forgot about your plans with Mor and Nesta it was around midnight when Azriel got up and announced that you have to get back to the house reminding you also about girl’s night. You hurried on your feet stumbling.

“I have to be at Rita’s” you muttered quickly and jumped off the edge of the cliff, your wings taking into action immediately and pushing you through the wind. You landed in front of Rita’s and run inside almost knocking down a waiter on your way. You quickly scanned the place and found Nesta and Mor in a booth drinking and singing, you squeezed through the bodies of the dancing faes and got to the booth. “Girl, I know you can do better than Illyrian leathers” Mor cringed taking in your form.

“Sorry training took longer than expected” you muttered, and your shadows shot up to cover you.

“I hoped other things took longer than expected” Nesta winked “but now that I see your shadows covering you, I guess it was only training” she continued with a disapproving look. A hint of pride inside those beautiful eyes as she noticed the progress with your shadows.

You felt your cheeks burning causing Nesta to burst into laughter, Mor following suit.

“You are awful” you scowled taking your seat next to them. They only laughed harder.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for shadow boy to realize that she is the one for him” Mor said, and you almost choked on the drink the waiter has brought you remembering you from the other night.

“I’m not the one for him” you gasped staring at them wide eyed.

“Oh come on, shadows, tortured in the past, wings, you two are practically the same” Nesta replied rolling her eyes.

“You know sometimes we need the opposite of us not the same” you replied, your heart burning as you did. You knew that you had already fallen for the shadowsinger but his heart belonged to Elain and maybe that’s the way it should be, maybe it’s for the better.

Mor just shrugged, her look only telling you that she rooted for you and Azriel. Nesta fell silent but kept the same look as Mor.

“Anyway, how is it going with you and the brute?” Mor turned to Nesta not missing the thankful look you sent her way.

You spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything and for the first time you felt like you could fit somewhere, Afterall you deserved a family, didn’t you?

The rest of the days went by easily, you and Azriel spent most of your time together having fun. The moments you spent with the others you would both send longing looks at each other and when everyone said their goodnights you would stay at the balcony together. It was a month later when you had landed without a sound on the balcony -thanks to the training with the shadow singer- that you found him on the couch with Elain in his arms, kissing her like a starved male, a bile climbed in your throat and then you felt it…

Snap.

[hyperfixatedcatlover]

The Beauty's Rebirth Chapter 1 - Casting Call

Alright here's chapter 1! Please don't hesitate on giving constructive criticism. Once again, I have no idea wth I am doing nor do I know where I am going with the story.

TW: Starvation, implied child abuse, implied claustrophobia, implied yandere behaviors.

MDNI

Prologue - Chapter 1 (You are here) - Chapter 2

"So tell us, how long was becoming a model your dream?"

You blink, and smile sheepishly, before answering,

"Well, it never was that much of a dream for me to be honest. It was just a job to get a roof over my head."

"Really?" The host asks looking shocked, "The most famous model in all the galaxy never even dreamed of it? How does that happen? Did you fall on hard times?"

You pause, having thought of a fake backstory before hand, one that hides the truth while revealing little tidbits. You aren't [Y/N] Ivy anymore, she died when your parents dropped her fake body in their living room for the servants to discover.

"You see, my parents one day told me that I'd be going to a stay with a relative on another planet. They gave me a duffel and shipped me off. It wasn't till I got there did I discover the letter in my bag, telling me that they never wanted me in the first place and I was officially disowned. So I was only 15, lost on another planet, no money or anything. I found my Mother Agency and walked in, as it had started raining. There, they gave me a position to model for them, saying they'd provide a roof to stay under, and the rest is history!"

If only that were the truth. That would be easier to bear. Then you wouldn't feel guilty for eating three meals a day. Then you wouldn't be afraid of dark enclosed spaces. Then you wouldn't feel like you can't be anything less than perfect. If only.

"Oh, what a truly heartbreaking tale. Do you know why your parents would do such a thing?"

I can tell the truth here somewhat more at least.

"My mom was jealous of me. I guess my beauty was always there, even when I was a mere child."

"And your father?"  

"He never saw me as a human, more of some ornament for him to show off."

"Some people just don't deserve to be parents." The host says as he makes a sympathetic face and puts his hand over his heart. 'At least he seems genuine for this.' You think to yourself.

The interview continues, going in a more positive direction, maybe you are not as good at hiding your emotions as you thought. Doesn't matter though, you don't like reliving the past. It hurts too much. It sometimes feels like you traded the stone cage from your parents for the gilded cage of fame. But what else can you do, you never received enough education to get into any academy, just enough to read and write well

"Good wives must have the skills to be their husband's secretary! How will you ever do something with your appalling grammar?"

"Mother, I just forgot a comma! I'm sorry!"

"Are you talking back to me girl? I should've known I was being too soft on you. Bring me my belt servant!"

As the maid disappears from the room, you begin to tear up, knowing what was coming.

You blink out of the memory, as the host begins his last question.

"Now, for anyone out there who want s to be a model, what do you have to say?"

"The standards for beauty are high, but don't let them stop you. Don't stop eating trying to get skinnier, don't spend thousands of credits trying to get clearer skin. True beauty comes within, it's a shame that not many people believe that in this industry."

The crowd applauds you as the host grabs your hand to help you stand up and take a bow, smiling for the camera one last time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a shiny office with a model city's lights twinkling, a halovian watches the TV with a raised eyebrow. He calls his hounds to go dig up the grave of a friend he had never fully believed that she was long dead. He has an investigation to do, after all, no rotten branches can be in his family and the family's lost sheep must be guided home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a ship somewhere in the galaxy, the only sound other than the video game sound effects coming from the girl beside him is the television. What it is about you that captivates the beast is unsure, maybe he wants to corrupt you, maybe he wants you to fix him, but something carnal inside of him craves you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a lecture hall where the chalk board is teeming with mathematic equations, the doctor looks at the interview one of his students was watching in class. After confiscating the screen, he notices your face and gets the inescapable urge to sculpt it. It won't be anything like the real thing, but he desires it more than anything right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a gambling hall where the stakes are high and the tension is palpable, a gambler looks at the interview over the shoulder of his arm candy for the night. Seeing such a beautiful gem on screen makes him feel the desire to win her, no matter how high the stakes are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a living room with a few scattered swords his adopted son has yet to put up, the dozing general finds the interview on TV and decides to watch it. Her eyes stir something in him, a desire to hunt her and save her from the abundance, after all, she seems like the kind THEY'D try to steal from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A trickster on a planet of ice and snow watches the broadcast with an honorable captain. Both seem enthralled in someway, but one is blushing brightly and another seems curious about how she'd look with tears in her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a dingy bar, a cyborg watches the static-filled screen show her beautiful face, still lovely despite the static. He gets that tingle in his metal bones that he got ever since he lost her, the one that said his wife was in danger. He doesn't know why he feels the need to protect you, but it won't leave him alone, and who is he to deny his emotions?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a planet where a knight has stopped to refuel his ship, he falls to his knees seeing the interview on a screen. In his very soul, he knows that the woman showed is his lost Aeon of Beauty, and knows that he will stop at nothing to bring her to the Knights to be properly worshipped.

[neonscandal]

explain to me how bakugo is traumatized. the kid he grew up with was nice to him once and he immediately came to the conclusion that he should die. that's not trauma, that's being insane.

I'm going to start with the fact that, justifiably, there's never a reason to tell someone to kill themselves. Additionally, note that me saying Bakugo is traumatized does not mean that Midoriya is also not traumatized.

Regarding your question, the trauma that I mentioned on a recent ask, (I assume this one prompted your question) referenced the following:

Captured by the Slime Villain, effectively bound and suffocated in front of an audience (doesn't include the fall out after being someone who is publicly assaulted)

Muzzled, bound and robbed of autonomy in front of a national audience at the Sports Festival

Kidnapped and bound by the LOV (the forcible binding is recurrent through all the above)

Don't really have to go into the swath of issues he and Class 1A likely can and do develop from being child pawns in a war of adults but that can be applied as well re: survivor's guilt, PTSD, paranoia from the mole, etc. from the PLF arc and up until current manga events (I didn't feel like a spoiler warning).

Things that people don't tend to capture in the box of Bakugo's characterization:

He comes from a verbally and physically abusive household, demonstrably (you can jump down to the second paragraph of Bakugo's Strengths listed here for my thoughts on that impact)

Forced to defend himself against older kids from a young age and possibly on a recurring basis, as referenced in the above image. We could probably chalk the confrontation up to a consequence of his false overconfidence, sure. But does that justify 4th graders ganging up on what looks like a kindergartener/first grader?

As for Bakugo and Midoriya's relationship, we don't have much to go on. We know they were close and amicable as kids, things likely went to shit when Midoriya didn't develop a quirk, there's some beetle excursion in the woods that Bakugo refers back to a lot which is pending further context for readers/viewers, and then there's a fall in the river which really soured relations as Bakugo misinterpreted genuine kindness for condescension (see home life and such above). Again, none of this justifies the bullying we see at the start of the series or the way their interactions have shocking physical components. But what I do find interesting is that I've previously likened Bakugo's disposition to Endeavors but, in retrospect, I think he's a strong parallel for Dabi too.

Dabi's rage stems from being robbed of what he thinks is his inalienable birthright as the oldest son and heir to Endeavor's legacy. He disproportionately targets Shouto as the usurper of what is rightfully his. Dabi's claim, of course, makes more sense from a traditional and, probably, cultural standpoint. But the reason I mention it is that I don't think Bakugo was constantly telling Midoriya to take a swan dive off a roof. It doesn't forgive the bullying but it contextualizes why, that day, the bullying reached a new height when Midoriya was outed for still trying to get into UA. Bakugo saw this as an immediate threat to his position because, even though he didn't admit it at the time, if anyone could get into UA, quirkless or not, Bakugo knew Midoriya could.

Just as Midoriya has always seen Bakugo as being heroic and capable of being number 1, Midoriya proves time and time again that, even without a quirk, he's got the spirit of a hero and is successful in spaces where Bakugo is not. As the story progresses, we see evidence and the ultimate manifestation of Bakugo's remorse through his apology and other ways he's softened up. I'm not saying he wasn't a little shit but that's also not all he was (IDK if you've met kids but... without healthy socialization they can be little emotional terrorists). As things have unfolded, we see that, internally, Bakugo uses thoughts of Midoriya to galvanize his path forward and we've recently confirmed that when Bakugo spoke to Kirishima about strength... he was referring to Midoriya, you can scroll down to paragraphs around the last picture. I'm just gleeful about calling it. But, suffice it to say they've both been looking to one another this whole time.

There are still periphery pieces of their background missing because the story is largely from Midoriya's perspective. I don't think we'll get a comprehensive backstory but I think there will be some sort of meaningful explanation behind the beetle trip that may inform why Bakugo ultimately misinterpreted things so poorly at the river. I mean, maybe it's as simple as the fact that he couldn't fathom kindness because it's something not typically afforded to those who are perceived as strong. I don't know but I look forward to finding out.

[naughty-shiro]

Sae and Rin fall in love with a sweet female reader?

"You make my heart race faster than soccer"

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹ ıllı Rin/reader - Sae/reader - seperate﹒ ♡ afab/fem!reader / silly crushes / Fluffy ✶ ᐢ..ᐢ﹒ ＞＜﹐🔗 reader is just the sweetest and I want the best for her @ :: ┆﹒♡ ✦. contains: confessions (both), secret admirer (Rin), denial (Rin), LDR (Sae),

☆⋆｡𖦹 Itoshi Rin

-͟͟͞☆ He had no intentions on falling in love, he can't, he won't allow himself to. He has to beat his brother.

-͟͟͞☆ If so... why did you manage to make him feel so weak in the knees whenever you smiled so brightly, the sort of smile that would sooth the soul.

-͟͟͞☆ the way your lips would curve upwards so effortlessly. The way he'd notice how your eyes would genuinely sparkle with excitement when something good happened.

-͟͟͞☆ you made him so weak in the knees and his heart would always speed up when you would enter his class to talk to your friends.

-͟͟͞☆ your voice... sounds like a fairytale princess, He becomes enchanted by it.

-͟͟͞☆ He hates himself to much for falling for someone especially when his rival (brother) is abroad getting better and he is sat pathetically smittened by some girl.

-͟͟͞☆ He often thought of what it would be like to hold you in his arms, oh how perfectly you'd fit, nice and snug. to spoil you with all the things you want to make sure that smile stayed. that same smile that Rin will never be sick of.

-͟͟͞☆ He would ask the people you would talk to and would right little love notes and put them in the locker.

-͟͟͞☆ After the first one, you would leave Rin a letter in your locker although addressed to "little stranger"

-͟͟͞☆ After a small letter exchange, he noticed how cute and pretty your handwriting is, he was thinking what part of you isn't so sweet and kind? This letter Rin wrote... it will be the letter that will give you the opportunity to find out who your secret admirer was.

-͟͟͞☆ Rin was confident you wouldn't hurt his feelings. Rin waits on the rooftop of the school, with a bouquet of white and lavender roses. He was a little nervous but he wants to show these feelings so he can get closure you both needed.

-͟͟͞☆ When you finally meet him on the roof: ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"You're Itoshi, from my friends class right?" You softly ask. Slowly, you make your way to him, not sure about his demeanor, You were told he is quite unfriendly and distant. But, You wanted to give Rin a chance.

"I am... listen. I may not be the nicest and I may not be the easiest to be around, if you hear from others... and I like routine, I wish for you to become a part of that routine in my life, I want to dedicate time to you and you alone."

Rin notices blush creep onto your cheeks. "I..."

Rin grows anxious with anticipation, as if he is about to go for the winning goal, his goal this time not being a net but the enchantress in front of him.

"I would love that!" That smile Rin fell for is back. A small smile appeared on his lips. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I had feelings for you for a while now, but I didn't know how to approach you" With that, his heart started to accelerate, he didn't know how much you reciprocated until this moment. "You can say we were mutually pining," You shyly nodded to yourself.

"I have something for you..." Rin speaks which caught your attention.

"you do?" You tilt your head slightly, so sweetly. That doesn't go unnoticed by Rin, he found those little actions you did subconsciously so adorable.

"here, for you." With that Rin hands you the bouquet of flowers, the beautiful purple and white bouquet. Your cheeks heat up as you press your lips together for a moment, eyes a little watery. Rin notices before lowering the bouquet a little, more concerned for you. The tears made his heart hurt a little. "Are you okay?"

"y-yeah! I'm okay, just very happy" and that smile that caused his heart to race is back on your face. he had a soft smile on his face. he lightly lifts your arm as he places the bouquet in your arms. it was when he touched your hand is when he knew in that moment he will stop at nothing to keep you with him, his whole live.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒─ ─﹒﹒★﹒──────────

☆⋆｡𖦹 Itoshi Sae

ִ ࣪𖤐 if the blackcat and gingercat dynamic were in a friendship it would have to be you and Sae. of course the blackcat being the latter.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He met you in Germany, You were the daughter of the host family to stay with while he was in Germany (kind of like paying rent as well as helping out).

ִ ࣪𖤐 You showed Sae around, trying to get a conversation around him, unsuccessful however, he never protested your presence. You figured it was that he was more reserved and prefers to listen.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Once he asked for your number, and you notice through messages he is more vocal about what he wants.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Sae was drawn to your appearance at first, you had the qualities he was looking for. Of course, thinking it was fleeting. The more he was with you, the more he mind wondered to other forms of communication.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He had to return to Japan soon since his Visa was about to run out but he bought you a present with a card reading "nicht öffnen, bevor ich es sage" (Don't open until I say so)

ִ ࣪𖤐 You listen to the instructions, despite wanting to desperately open the small box Sae gave you before he left to go back to Japan.

ִ ࣪𖤐 You felt very lonely without having him to talk to, well having him to listen to you ramble about something completely out of the blue. You missed watching him play. You missed it all.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Sae misses your verbal rants, although you still rant to him though messaging, it's not the same. He figured this crush isn't going away anytime soon. He has to act.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He takes a little bit of time to work up the courage... what if you wanted just a platonic relationship? what if you only saw him as a brother?? Those are thoughts that were plaguing his mind before committing to what he was originally planning to do. ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

(imagine the conversation above and following are in German)

You send him a call request, Sae takes a deep breath before clicking the accept button. When he sees your face once again, he realised how much he misses you. "it's been a little while since we last saw eachother."

You nodded in response. "it hasss! So what did you want to discuss?"

it was silent for a little as you were wondering what caused him to be so silent. "are you okay?"

You ask silently, He snaps out and nods. "Yeah, I'm alright. Have you opened that gift i gave you?"

You shake your head as you start to play with your sleeves. "you said to not open it until you said so... so I decided to wait until you told me to..."

he lightly smiles as he is glad you kept the instructions you kept for him. "I want you to open it now."

You nod as you start to lift the silk ribbon on the box, he kept an intent gaze on you. You pull out a shirt and a bottle of collogue.

"Sae, what are these for?" You ask intently. he clears his throat.

"well... I'm not sure if you like me romantically, but on the off chance you do and I won't be able to return any time soon, that is one of my tops, it used to be my favorite but you mentioned how much you liked it on me and you always complimented my collogue. if you ever miss me you can wear the shirt and use the collogue. Do you accept my confession?"

You were stunned and Sae could see that. He gave you a moment to think.

"...愛してる" You mutter, which caused Sae to widen his eyes in surprise, he felt his heart race faster than he ever thought was possible.

"you reciprocate?" He asks, somewhat in shock. He notices you nod.

"it was a shame we didn't start dating before you left... I would have loved cuddling you." You pout lightly.

"When I return to you, we can cuddle while you rant your life away once again."

.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・．.・゜✧﹒☁﹒✧゜・． ≡^∇^≡ (Masterlist) !! ↓ ✭ (Events) ≫ (Request rules / Tag list/ anon list) <3

[tayas-words]

Maybe if you want a one shot prompt, you could try some fluff with Sam and Mika? Like right after when the first game ends on his route and them getting to know each other more and stuff

I like this idea! Please let me know if you like it, this is my first time writing a oneshot for seduce me! I’m taking inspiration from a scene from the hunger games bc the version of Mika I like to envision with Sam is very similar to a female Peeta, like shy but very strong and very clever.

TW: swearing

What’s your favourite colour?

Mika sighed as she stared at the screen in front of her, she had an 2000 word essay due at midnight and she only title down, and it was already 10:30pm.

“I’m never going to get this done in time,”She said to herself. “You’d think after fighting a devil and she-demon I could atleast write an essay.”

She knew she should’ve asked James for help, but seeing as him and Erik had gone out to dinner with their girlfriends, she was left to fend for herself on this essay. She thought about asking Matthew or Damien, but then remembered that Damien couldn’t read very well, even though she had been helping, and Matthew didn’t like writing. Sam never even crossed her mind for it.

“Screw this.” She closed her laptop shut and left her room, in need of some kind of distraction.

As she was about to go downstairs she heard a soft humming, walking closer to the noise she realized it was coming from an open window. Knowing it was Sam, she decided to go see him. They hadn’t had much time to talk since everything happened with Diana.

“What the fuck?” Sam stopped his humming as a pair of hands appeared.

The top of her head peeked up. “Mind if I join you Dingus?”

Just as he moved down to help Mika, she pulled herself up, steadying herself before she moved farther up the roof where Sam was.

They sat in a strange silence for a while, neither of them really knew what to say.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing school shit?” He broke the silence, he leaned back on his elbows, staring at the sky.

She shrugged. “I just can’t right now.”

“Why not?”

���I have no idea, maybe everything that happened in the last month fucked with my head.”

Sam scoffed. “Well obviously, and you humans get so stressed about all this school bullshit for no reason. You gotta get your mind off it and come back to it later.”

“Okay…distract me.” She told him. If anyone could distract her, it was him, she found it hard to not stare at him.

“Uhm okay then..how are your friends doing?” He mentally smacked himself.

“Oh, they’re good..they don’t remember anything about Diana or anything so I’m happy about that.” She nodded awkwardly.

She asked a few questions about the demon world, hoping to not overstep any boundaries, listening intently to his expressions and tone as he spoke. Eventually it felt like that had shared their life stories.

“So…what’s your favourite colour?” The way she said it didn’t even sound like a normal question, he sounded so

“Oh that questions over the line.” Sam let out a chuckle, sensing her akawardness

At the sound of his laugh, Mika blushed before turning to look at him, their eyes meeting.

“Seriously Sam, what is it?” She shifted closer to him.

“Green,” he answered truthfully. “What’s yours?” His question sounded genuine.

“Orange.”

“Like Damien’s hair?” Sam laughed as he asked her.

Mika let out a giggle and shook her head, “no, not that orange,” she thought about it for a moment, “more uh..more like a sunset set kind of orange.”

Sam watched as a small smile graced her lips as she talked about how she loved sunsets. Taking note of the goosebumps forming on her arm.

Without another word, he scooted down to where she was and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “You’re gonna get sick up here doofus.” He said as she slowly rested her head on his shoulder.

Once more they sat in silence, but a comfortable one this time. Just listening to the wind howl softly and the leaves dance as fall began to take the leaves down and recolour them.

Without speaking, Mika slipped her hand into his, interlacing their fingers.

Smiling, Sam gave her hand a small squeeze and pulled her closer before letting go of her hand.

He used his hand to tilt her chin up to make her look at him, they were both smiling and had a soft red hue run along their cheeks.

“Can I…can I kiss you?” He wished he could’ve taken back the first time he kissed her, he wanted this one to be romantic, “please.” He added.

She didn’t reaping, she just closed her eyes and leaned into him.

He smiled and leaned in, smiling as their lips pressed together. The hand that was on her moved to cup her face.

They smiled and panted as they pulled away. “I like you, so much Mika.”

“I like you too Sam.” She said as he rested his forehead on hers.

They sat on the roof a little longer, once they saw James and Erik pull into the driveway they realized Mika still had her essay due and it was already 11:15.

“Come on, you need to ask James for a lot of help if you have to get that done. I’ll bring you up a coffee and some snacks.” He offered and she gladly accepted.

He helped her off the roof and gave her one more swift kiss before heading downstairs to prepare a few small things.

She had kissed him, and Damien smiled at his older brother as he heard the happy thoughts running through his mind.

[blindmagdalena]

When I first watched the Boys and seen Homelander and continued to watch this man fall from grace while trying to keep it together and then pretty much accepting he was going to be the bad guy (my opinion)

The song Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths comes to my head whenever I see Homelander. It is an amazing song and I feel like Homelander just fits it’s so well.

ohhh my god the way i was OBSESSED with this song. it was #1 in my spotify wrapped in 2022.

absolutely love how the song is an internal battle. he's begging himself down off the roof, but everything around him only pushes him closer to the edge.

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof? The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken Remember the pact of our youth Where you go, I'm going, so jump and I'm jumping Since there is no me without you Soldier on, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

and then this next verse in particular just guts me

Loathe the way they light candles in Rome But love the sweet air of the votives Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone Engage with the pain as a motive Today, of all days, see How the most dangerous thing is to love How you will heal and you'll rise above

we know he craves love and to be celebrated, but loathes the rituals he endures to obtain it. still, he does it. he obeys. he lights the candles. he genuinely believes this is how he will heal. how he will be loved.

but of course it isn't. and that sentiment only sours the longer he pursues it. insecurities fester. his loneliness worsens. there is a voice that urges him on, but so too is there a voice that hisses, they don't love you. they never will.

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, jump now You are absent of cause or excuse So self-indulgent and self-referential No audience could ever want you You crave the applause yet hate the attention Then miss it, your act is a ruse It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now It's a pointless resistance for you

they both grow and grow and grow until finally those two voices in his head are so distinct, they may as well be their own identities.

You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers (it's not worth it, Achilles) More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles) But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat) You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion) You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts) Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof) Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you

UGGGHHHH just listening to this song again made me cry. man, it's SO good, and applying it to Homelander tears me to ribbons.