#i love to have thoughts. Create scenarios.

[dead-boys-club]

†  memories : katsuki.

❥ scenario: i wish that you would stay in my memories. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ no betas. ❥ requested.

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

you hadn’t planned on running into him again - not after everything, not after the way things ended back in ua. but here he was, standing in the doorway of your kitchen with his familiar presence filling the space, making it feel smaller and too quiet all at once.

what was he even doing?

katsuki didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the counter with that same intense expression you remembered from years ago. it was the look he used to give you when he was trying to hold something back, wrestling with words he didn’t know how to say. part of the reason you weren't together anymore - his inability to communicate.

the silence stretched on, heavy with everything left unsaid, until he finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “you’re still… here.” The words hung in the air, not just a statement of where you were standing, but an echo of the past he’d never fully let go.

you were struggling to keep it in the past.

you tried to keep your voice steady, folding your arms to create some barrier, any kind of shield between you and the memories that threatened to surface. “yeah, still here. you too, apparently.”

he nodded, glancing around, his gaze lingering on the little details that hadn’t changed since the days you’d spent here together, laughing, arguing, and just… existing in each other’s lives. back then, the kitchen had been your shared refuge, a place where he’d let himself soften, where you’d sit on the counter while he grumbled about his day, cooking you dinner.

he occasionally stayed up to pack you little lunches.

“things… look the same,” he muttered, barely meeting your eyes. His voice was softer, almost vulnerable in a way that katsuki bakugo rarely allowed himself to be. “it’s like nothing changed.”

but you both knew it had. the years had shifted you in ways that made even simple conversations feel different, edged with a mixture of nostalgia and lingering pain.

you looked away, swallowing the ache that rose in your throat. “People change, katsuki. things end, whether we want them to or not.”

he flinched at your words, as if you’d struck him. the line between his brows deepened, his frustration clear. “i know that. doesn’t mean it doesn’t still… mess with my head, alright?” his fists clenched at his sides, a habit he’d never grown out of. “sometimes i feel like i could walk in and… like you’d still be here, waiting.”

the admission hung between you, raw and unguarded, and it made something inside you twist painfully. he’d always been so determined, so sure of himself, but now there was a crack in his armor, a glimpse of the hurt he never let show.

“katsuki,” you said quietly, finally meeting his gaze. “we’re both different people now. you’re a hero. you’ve got your life, your work. And me… i’ve moved on.” the words felt hollow, even as you tried to convince yourself that they were true.

his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with something fierce and unspoken. “have you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words crashed over you like a wave.

he had always been able to see straight through you.

you wanted to say yes, to give him the closure he needed, but standing here, with the ghost of your past filling the air around you, the answer felt so much harder to hold onto.

he pushed off the counter, stepping closer, his presence intense and overwhelming, as it had always been. “i just… i can’t stand thinking of someone else here,” he muttered, his voice laced with an anger he could barely contain. “thinking that this could’ve been us.”

the words cut deep, stirring the memories you’d tried so hard to bury. in his eyes, you saw the reflection of what could have been - a life you’d once dreamed of, a love you’d thought would last. but the years had taught you that some things weren’t meant to be, no matter how much you wanted them.

with a shaky breath, you took a step back, creating a space between you that felt both necessary and agonizing. “kat… you know we can’t go back.”

he looked away, his shoulders slumping in defeat. for a moment, you saw the boy he’d been back in ua, the one who’d held you with a fierceness that made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. but now, as he turned to leave, you knew that part of him was as lost to you as you were to him.

and as the door closed behind him, you were left in the silence of a kitchen that still held the echoes of a love that neither of you had ever truly let go.

[fortune-maiden]

More Happily Ever After route ramblings because I like it a lot but also…

Now that I’ve played Cage & Princess + Dragon through all of their variations, it’s a little frustrating how HEA doesn’t really have any meaningful variation for Opportunist.

Which is a shame because I really like how different the Damsel routes that lead to HEA feel

For Paranoid’s ver, you have to deconstruct the damsel and get a paper thin construct that ‘wants to make us happy’ without knowing what that means or having any other thoughts or wants of her own. Smitten can’t accept that and ��for her sake’ sets out to create a world where she’ll learn happiness and want (and succeeds in a deeply disturbing way)

Meanwhile, the version that leads to Opportunist feels a lot more sinister. You do know what the Damsel wants actually - she wants to leave. She’s been super cooperative and the ideal love interest Smitten believes her to be to this point, but the moment you decide to stay in the cabin after all, she expresses doubt. She doesn’t want what we want in this moment and Smitten can’t accept that. So he hijacks the route to create a ‘better’ world where Princess will have to want what we want…

It almost feels like Opportunist spawned from him in this scenario

[greelin]

tragedy enjoyers when the hell is self-made

[nonokoko13]

Me when the first coherent thought I have in the morning is that Grim was either abandoned or his biological parents died and the only family he has ever known are three ghosts everyone was afraid of so everybody left them alone for centuries and a human who doesn't belong who doesn't entirely fit there just like them so they were all alone until they found each other.

Ghosts tied to a space which is unsure whether they can leave or not and a human who may have somebody waiting them back home and may leave with no chance of return. Who can't take Grim with them because where they come from things such as fantasy creatures and magic only exist in fairytales so he'd either live hidden from the world or in danger of being treated as a monster and experimented on because when faced with what it's new and different the world reacts with anger and fear and want to control it and tear it apart until nothing it was before is left.

He doesn't know or understand this but MC does and that's why they would have to leave him behind. His dream of studying magic and be the greatest mage wouldn't come true on Earth, that's the reason they would tell him. It's true even though it's not the main reason why. But Grim would understand they just don't want to stay with him and prefer to leave and forget him because if they did love him they would stay.

Then again he could try to dig up in his origins and find his first family but what if time travel exists and MC from a previous timeline was who gave him the ribbon, his first gift and only possession before arriving at NRC? Meaning MC was the person his world revolved around before he even knew who they were and there was no other family he had.

Doubting the trouble squad has ever have a heart to heart conversation about Grim and MC's fates if or when they depart either because they have forgotten or pretend they aren't aware but deep down Ace and Deuce and all of MC friends know but prefer to keep ignoring it instead of confront their feelings. Grim and Malleus being the only ones who may have never think of it until the moment arrives nor accept it. Just like young children who believe their parents, their pillars, their everything that makes them feel safe, would always be there until death knocks at their door. Because MC have friends and a home in Twisted Wonderland and they need them so why would they leave?

They know MC keeps searching a way home and wondering if their loved ones misses them as much as they do and how much time have passed on their planet without knowing MC wishes they could have it all so they didn't have to choose between their previous family and the one they found there. And neither Grim or Malleus won't admit they know because thinking of it brings back the feeling of abandonment and losing everything that make them feel completed.

But the prince will have both Silver and Sebek and his grandmother for the rest of their lives with him once he returns home, people who was there from the beginning. Time to grow with them and accept they'll leave too. Everyone will graduate and go home and except special occasions each one will go their own path.

Grim will stay with somebody else but it won't be the same for him because he already had a family he wanted to keep together and failed to do so and without the dorm ghosts and MC the only thing left for him is the wound he carried before finding them opened once again that will remember him that nobody in this world can stay by his side forever so he'll stay and search a way to reunite with MC again and wonder if they miss him as much as he does and wishing MC have had everyone they loved in twst so they didn't have to choose or if they had to they had chosen him instead in the end and thinking of how all the future plans they shared and promises they made of growing old together were empty and the words that made him happy about how they loved him now hurt and they failed him and he failed to have everything he wanted and they left they left and he's thinking of them even after promising himself he wouldn't anymore a lie just like theirs and he's crying again and it hurts it hurts and

[cuteniaarts]

2 hour rough drawing of Ehuang, my precious Green Opal child who I don’t draw nearly enough <3

[nocentis]

I am trying something new (to me) in regards to starters. In the past, I often found myself saying, "Well, my muse has no established relationship with your muse. They have never met." And thus nearly every thread started with formal introductions and slowly fizzled out from there because there was no real goal attached to the situation. While it makes perfect sense to establish that these characters do not yet know each other at some early point in these introductory threads, I feel that making that the entire focus of the thread doesn't lend to a greater story in most cases. As such, I am doing away with formal introductions as a starting point and instead throwing our characters into a fun situation with a lot of wiggle room!

This, of course, applies to pantsed threads with characters that my muse has no canon interaction with — or threads that have not been plotted. If this ends up working out, great! If not, that's perfectly fine, and I can always go back to introductory threads (ex. "Hello, how are you? I don't believe we've met."), but I thought this might be a fun little shift to help both of us keep the ball rolling.

[nilesmoon]

infinite wealth if sawashiro said "who gives a shit about ebina im going to hawaii with ichi" and then the rest of the game is a family vacation

[lyramundana]

Ok, first of all, your chan analysis? Banger. Incredible. Perfectly said. Revolutionary. Marvelous.

But also I felt so happy to see that I'm not the only one who's *very* childfree but would give this man, and this man only, whichever amount of children he wanted. The desire I have to see this man as a dad, I truly feel he would be 110% in his element. I would combust spending the weekends watching his pure joy as he cares for his kids, completely his to take care of and dote on forever, the ones that literally need his care to live and the ones no one would ever be able to take away from him.

Sorry but I get a little unhinged thinking about domestic life with this loser of a man.

Ashdhdnhd thank you so much! ❤❤❤ The first paragraph got me so soft and giggly, like stupid. I don't even consider it an analysis, just some delulu thoughts of mine based on what I see in Christopher Bang. @whatudowhennooneseesyou has way cooler analysis. I strongly recommend you to visit her and take a look.

Of course you're not the only one, sweetie. Christopher Bang makes everyone considerate parenthood. He carries a certain aura on him that makes you want to birth this man's babies and give him a whole army if he desires, regardless if you like children or not. I think most of it is born of our desire to be bred by him and filled with his seed. That's my case at leasts.

I agree he'll be an awesome dad and this role has been made for him. He adores his children, sure, but there's also other reasons he wants to be a father so much. After all, these babies are a living proof of his claim over his partner. His breeding kink is motivated mostly by his possessiveness and urge to control. He knows having a baby undeniably ties two people together in a visceral manner. He loves his children mostly because they're extensions of his partner and also himself. They're completely his. His flesh, his blood, these little humans he created. The wolf in him purrs in delight at the thought.

With this, I meant Christopher Bang would be the most likely to baby-trap his partner in order to keep tied to him. He wants to be a father, but he also loves the dark aspect of it. Part of his adoration for the children is because they're a physical manifestation of his love for his partner and solid chains that keeps her by his side.

His possessiveness would, of course, pass unto his babies too. Since they've been born out of his lover's body, after he impregnated her, he treats them in very similar to his partner.

In short, Christopher Bang can fill me with his babies all the times he wants and I'll gladly give up on my feminism sentiment to be a good little mother for him the rest of my life.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

Did I ever come back here and say that in our last CoS session, Wyn actually ended up chasing after the child-possessing demon and exorcise it with the help of our wizard? It was good! And she's feeling a teeny tiny bit of gratitude to the wizard and the fighter who followed her to help, because they very much did not have to. And then we bluffed our way out of getting in trouble with the guards and managed to get an ally in the headmistress of the orphanage! Nice things all around!

And now we're hanging out with Lady Wachter. I'm sure this won't go sideways in ANY WAY. :>

[mxdotpng]

though i don't think it's right to say the party didn't like luke before he changed. there are a lot of times where its obvious they do have some sort of attachment to him even if its obscured by how annoyed and/or frustrated he makes them. like when luke went back to baticul for the first time and everyone was trying to cheer him up and go sightseeing together, or when they were worried about him during their trip to choral castle. they were rightfully biased, as they saw the forefront of his behavior, but if they hadn't liked him at all they wouldn't have agreed to travel with him again, nor would their feelings after akzeriuth be so personal.

[aria0fgold]

Born to: Emu getting unexpectedly sent into a whole different world that is so clearly not the sekai and getting lowkey scared but she got found by Cain and Owen who were on a mission, the two seeing her outfit and getting reminded that Akira has a similar type of fit when they first got there so they brought Emu to the sage who comforted her in the same way that the twins comforted them when they were sent there. And then--

Forced to: drowning in a pool of my own blood as I fight the Demons and finish this Draft due tomorrow fr this time cuz there was a ping saying the finished product needs to be submitted then which is good cuz I thought it'd be due today but still not Good good cuz it's still due literally tomorrow when I've barely any progress on it cuz of the Horrors that was July and August o<-<

[i984]

First of all, I have to admit that this took me 50 minutes to complete reading. Why?

BECAUSE I'M DYING???? OVER YOUR WORDS??? LIKE

I really really really really love your writing style, like uhm please I'm not even kidding.

DOESNT HELP that Wednesday is so... Wednesday AND THAT'S AMAZING? Like I legit struggle with writing characters accordingly? (in the past and now still) SO LIKE MY MIND IS BOGGLED AT HOW YOU MAKE THIS HAPPEN AND I CANNOT FIGURE IT OUT???

Also doesn't help that I have similar experiences to this one (minus the magic faeries and the independent appendage ofc) SO I RELATE? Like I legit go through the same thought process when I was in 3rd grade??? LIKE HOW DARE YOU EVOKE the same feelings and thoughts that I have for my 3rd grade crush??? Like that was a million years AGO.

IT'S AMAZING HOW YOU CAN WRITE SO WELL TO DO THAT UHM I LOVE YOU???

Sob story skip this part if you want: I never did say the one sided conversations in my head, so I never get to say what I wanted to say and we (I and the 3rd grade crush) drifted away after 3 years yeah nice try girl. Ignore me bitching in the tags pls.

SO I AM CHEERING FOR WEDNESDAY ON THE SIDE LINES. YOU GO GOTHIC GIRL GET THE FAE (in a non violent-non wing crushing-way)

In conclusion,

This was a masterpiece, Your Honor.

—JOUSKA | THREE

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Something and nothing at all changed. Wednesday is all too aware of the distance and the horrifying realization that if she wants to be closer, than she'll have to make the first move. Cue compulsively replaying a hypothetical conversation.

Warnings: Angst. Distracted!Wednesday. Wednesday generally being Bad At Feelings™️. Enid's wise words. Thing—the opportunist. Xavier absent but still not safe from Wednesday's roasts. Blood.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: This was intense to write, but it'll only get more intense! Likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated ���

Part Two

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Jouska: Noun. A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

Something and nothing at all has changed since that night. 

"Hi, Wednesday."

Wednesday's eyes catch yours as she watches you flanked by two gorgon girls. You've got a white stick of a lollipop hanging in your mouth at the side, the grape confection already finished, but you don't like littering (like some of these other heathens at the academy).

Wednesday doesn't say anything back, but she does slow her walking down subtly, her brows relaxes and expression neutral as she looks at you. A nod of acknowledgment is all that is needed to satisfy you as you smile at her before looking away.

It's been like that since that night—the same acknowledgment, and it's all Wednesday can think about.

They've bonded, haven't they? Enid certainly said so. And if that was the case, why were you the same distance away? 

Wednesday can only think back to that night. 

"Black wings are the mark of a night faerie."

Wednesday doesn't rush her response. This was one of those moments, the one Enid was constantly telling her to be delicate about. 

The right words—Wednesday needed the right words.

It reminded her of when she first encountered the photo of herself from Rowan, and how she, too, thought she was destined for (bad) calamity. 

"Sometimes the dark doesn't cause calamity but rather is what no one expects at all," Wednesday looks at you, her eyes focused. "The solution."

But even as you give Wednesday a soft smile, she can see something dim behind your eyes, and the taste of utter defeat burns Wednesday's throat, knowing it wasn't the exact right words.

So, Wednesday was at a standstill. 

And she was also far from finding a nickname for you that she'd allow everyone to call you. The only bright side was everyone else was somehow doing worse than her with their suggestions despite her not having offered anything at all. 

There was a distance, Wednesday realizes. One that you seemed content to let be. 

Wednesday feels jolted by the realization that she's been fairly spoiled and blessed in her life (even if she didn't feel it at the moment). It had always been Wednesday who chose to keep her distance from those around her. She had her own interests and had been content to put them above everyone else. 

But ever since coming to Nevermore, her little ragtag of misfits—especially Enid—had intrusively barged into her personal space. Wednesday only had to take a small step forward, and everyone else had closed the distance. 

Everyone except you.

Wednesday Addams would never deny the fact that she wasn't free from things like desire. She desired many things: rain, mysteries, victory, the fear of others, and whatever things could be described as morbid.

She told her mother that she would never be like her—never fall in love, be a housewife, or have a family. And she had meant it at that moment (although she was very sure she'll never be a housewife). 

And really, it's not like Wednesday loves you or anything. But Wednesday has once felt enough to kiss a boy (who turned out to be a serial killer), and when she thinks of Enid, Eugene, and Xavier, she does feel like she has a strange little group to call a family of her own. She begrudgingly accepts Bianca to something like a distant, irritating cousin.

You piqued her curiosity very early on with your unintrusive smiles and waves. Now, you had an enigmatic background and a perhaps sense of self-preservation to remain distant. But it was too late. 

Wednesday desires mystery, and she desires you. 

They're not mutually exclusive.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Blood drips down from Wednesday's cheek. She touches her finger to the cut and looks at it curiously.

"You're distracted, Addams." 

Wednesday looks back to Bianca, who somehow manages to look both smug and concerned. While being beaten by Bianca again still leaves the feeling of self-pity, her rage is directed at herself. 

"And yet, you barely managed to defeat me," Wednesday drawls. 

"Well, pull your head out of the dark, gray clouds and focus so I can put you in your place again without your excuses," Bianca shoots back without hesitation. 

Wednesday starts to move into position when the coach halts it and tells her to go to the infirmary to take care of her cut. Clenching her jaw, Wednesday puts her equipment away and leaves the room. 

The cut stings, and Wednesday knows it was her own fault that Bianca cut her too deep. She was distracted. She has been lately ever since her realization that if she wanted to close the distance, she would have to be the one to intrude in your space. 

The problem was that Wednesday only knew how to intrude into someone's space when she was suspicious they were a serial killer—accusing and without permission. 

And thus, Wednesday has been afflicted with hypothetical conversations her brain refused to stop producing. It was costing her sleep, and now the victories that should belong to her. 

"Wednesday!" 

Turning around, Wednesday sees Enid skipping her way down toward her. The blonde frowns when she glances at Wednesday's cheek and pulls out a white handkerchief. It’s the only colorless fabric she owns. "Fencing?"

Wednesday nods, accepting the cloth as she dabs it against her face, wiping at her jaw where it dripped.

"Lose?" Enid winces in pain. 

A dark look crosses Wednesday's face, and Enid quickly changes the subject. 

"Are you excited for parents' weekend?" Enid asks. "I'm surprised Principal Weems has made it so early in the year. I hear she's making changes so parents visit once at the beginning of the year and once at the end of the year."

"If by excited you mean begrudgingly accepted it, yes," Wednesday monotones.

"But it'll be interesting to see who the fairy godmother's parents will be, right?" Enid rocks on her toes in anticipation. "I heard her dad is, like, a high lord or something."

The comment does spark interest in Wednesday. She is curious about the two people who had loved you so much that they took you out of isolation and parted ways with you in this safe haven. 

Assuming that they could visit you, anyway.

"That's also a witless sobriquet," Wednesday comments absentmindedly.

Enid only huffs. 

"Enid," Wednesday calls evenly.

"Hm?"

"How—why—" Wednesday takes a deep breath as her eyes close for a moment. When she opens them, she finds Enid staring at her curiously with an amused smile. Wednesday knows it was because she’s never this inarticulate, but Enid is gracious enough to not say anything about it and waits patiently for her to gather her thoughts. 

As patiently as she can, it seems.

"Not to rush you, but you should probably hurry on and say whatever it is you want to say so you can get on to the infirmary. The cut is starting to soak through my handkerchief," Enid gently pushes. 

Wednesday grinds her teeth for a second before sighing through her nose lightly. 

"How did you decide on how you wanted to be closer to me?" Wednesday asks, leaving as much emotion out of her tone as possible but cringing at her sentence. "Especially since it was obvious I wanted to keep my distance."

Enid's lip twitches, and Wednesday already regrets asking, but before she can turn around and leave, Enid answers. "Well, in your case, I think it was easier for me to tell you didn't really want to be alone, so I didn't ask."

Wednesday makes a vague face of disgust while Enid continues on. 

"But in your case," Enid stresses, smirking at Wednesday's unblinking face. "I think you should ask to do something together to be closer."

Wednesday's eyes flicker as she processes Enid's words. The memory of Tyler's efforts to take her to the catacomb, how he set up lights, and a movie pops into her mind. 

"Like a date," Wednesday says slowly, and horrification begins to set in.

"Er, I think that's a little too advanced for you," Enid cuts in quickly. "Maybe just try to find a way to spend more time together casually but consistently."

Enid looks at her watch. "Oh, I gotta go. Yoko and I need to start planning for the boat race this year." With that, Enid happily skips down the hallway. She turns around once and yells, "Oh, don't forget to wash the blood out of my handkerchief. I trust you'll know how to do that!"

Wednesday nods before she continues on her way to the infirmary. When she enters, she sees Weems talking to someone sitting on a cot behind the curtains. 

"I'm happy you've found a friend to help you, but I'm concerned—" Weems stops as soon as she sees Wednesday, frowning as she sees the cut and then sighs, "Coach Vlad had told me you and Bianca frequently spared without your helmets. I had hoped he was joking."

The curtains suddenly opened, and Wednesday wasn’t surprised. She could tell it was you by your silhouette. 

Immediately the hypothetical conversations she's been creating pops into her mind again.

"Hi, Wednesday," you smile with a short wave before you eye her cut. "Hope the other person looks worse off."

Weems clicks her tongue in disapproval, but Wednesday's lip twitches upward slightly. 

The principal is about to say something else when a small, lanky boy walks in. He clutches his wrist, but Wednesday can’t make out his feature with his overgrown fringe covering his eyes. He seems to see just fine, though, as his posture stiffens at the sight of you.

"O-Oh, F-Fae," he starts to say but then stutters. "No, sorry, I-I mean—"

"It's fine," you wave away his attempt at saying your name. "Did you hurt yourself in psychitect?"

He nods.

"I suppose I should go find the nurse. She went down to the cafeteria for a quick snack," Weems says before she looks at you. "We'll finish our conversation later."

"It's fine," you wave it off. "I can help Wednesday. We’ll be gone before you’re back."

Weems purses her lips in disapproval, but you just give her a look back. Sighing, Weems nods before she turns to walk out. "Glad to see you fitting in more this year, Wednesday. It's pleasant to see you in my office less."

"It's too early in the year still," Wednesday haughtily replies, eyes trailing Weems as she leaves the room. 

"Come along, Henry."

Once alone, Wednesday's eyes trail to you. 

"Well, take a seat," you stand up and gesture to the cot near her as you rummage through the cabinets. 

"I can do it myself."

"I'm sure you can," you absently say as you move bottles back and forth in search of something. When you find it, you turn around with a lopsided smile. "But I assure you I can do it better."

Wednesday only raises her eyes challengingly but sits down as you sit on the stool and roll over to her. She sits primly with her back straight as a rod when you come closer and closer. To allow your proximity, Wednesday has to open her legs for you to come between, being the one wearing pants. 

"Pretty nasty cut," you mumble, and Wednesday can smell grape lollipops. 

"I've had worse."

"Bragging, I see," you smirk as you put on gloves and use tweezers to soak a gauze pad in saline solution. "Xavier did tell me you took an arrow for him once."

"Xavier has an abnormally large mouth," Wednesday speaks tersely with a furrow of her brows. When you gently dab the soaked gauze pad on her cheek, it doesn’t sting, but Wednesday clenches her fists closed with your face so close. 

"I think he was bragging," you continue to dab. "Enid and Eugene have similar anecdotes. Thing, as well."

Wednesday huffs while you merely grin lightly. 

Enid's words and Wednesday's haunted hypotheticals were plaguing her again. 

"What were you and Weems talking about?" Wednesday asks to redirect the conversation. She had been curious since she walked in, as it seemed like a rather serious conversation. 

The thoughts aren’t going away.

"She was checking in after I told the nurse I had a friend to help me apply the medicine, and I'd only come in to do monthly examinations or if something serious happened."

Sometimes Wednesday isn’t used to people answering her questions so quickly and without pretense. She’s used to them being defensive. 

'Thing shouldn't be applying your medicine.' Wednesday clenches her jaw, refusing to let the thought slip out of her mouth. With you in sight, her mind refuses to stop the compulsive hypothetical conversations.

"I see," Wednesday says slowly. "And why is Weems so particularly concerned?"

"She's my legal guardian," you answer straightforwardly, inspecting Wednesday's wound as the bleeding slows. 

The sudden new information makes Wednesday blink. 

'If you use your brain and think about it, Thing is a disembodied hand with stitches all over. Do you think that's sanitary? Forget the fact that Thing is vain and does well in washing his hand and moisturizes.'

You put down the tweezers and take off the gloves. Lifting your fingertips, you hover them over the cut. Wednesday watches as you concentrate before warmth and tiny little firefly-like lights seeps onto her cheek. 

When it’s over, the sting of the cut is gone. Wednesday lifts her hand to touch her cheek and feels a thin bump of her skin scarred over. 

'I understand your need for secrecy. I've been told I lack regard for others’ safety but I have no intentions of being the reason for your untimely death.'

You turn to grab a tub of cream and unscrew the lid. "It's not exactly perfect, but better than the usual way," you say as if apologizing. "I'll get better at it as my wings heal."

"Your powers are linked to your wings?"

'And of course, I understand you don't prefer the nurse's care. Her touch is indelicate and I imagine your wings are sensitive.'

You hum and say quietly, "A lot of it, yes. Our wings are embedded into our backs and take root inside our bodies. It's why we usually die without our wings."

"And Weems is your guardian?" 

You nod. "Yes. As you know faeries stay in isolation, and faeries with my wings are...outcasts," you smirk. "My parents can't look after me like regular parents do because the more in contact with me they are, the more it exposes my location."

It makes sense. Whoever had done such abominable things to your wings should stay far, far away—lest they want Wednesday to find a way to paralyze them without taking their wings. 

Still.

Wednesday studies your face as you apply the scarring cream. Your parents must've been heartbroken and scared witless to take you out of isolation and have Weems take over guardianship. 

'As such, I must take responsibility for Thing and offer to take his place in applying your medication. This is an acceptable trade, is it not?'

"Your parents must've adored you so," Wednesday comments. She can certainly relate to that as she internally rolls her eyes at the thought of her own parents. 

You finish applying the cream, and Wednesday has had enough of the repetitive one-sided conversation in her head. It was going to drive her crazy—and not the respectable kind. 

But just as Wednesday opens her mouth to get it over with, her words die on her tongue when you look at her.

It was the same smile as that night, the one that made Wednesday's throat burn with utter defeat.

You must miss them. 

"Yes, I suppose they did."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, and the incessant noise of Enid's snoring is somehow amplifying her thoughts.

This. Is. Inconceivable. 

The thing with Wednesday is that she had an obsessive personality. That's why solving mysteries is such a good pastime for her. 

The only problem is when the mystery hasn't been solved, and she is left alone with the agonizing cliffhanger. 

What if the words hadn't died on her tongue? 

What if she had said them anyway, despite your smile that seemed to make Wednesday miserable. 

But the truth of the matter is that she didn't, and now, she is stuck in bed coming up with new hypothetical conversations that revolve around one matter.

'Thing is indisposed.'

'I'm offering my company and assistance. Thing may stay as an additional conversationalist.'

'Surely, you must have more to say to me daily than greeting me.'

'Thing has questionable scalpel skills; therefore, I believe he's been applying your medication inaccurately. I can't have your wings—your life source—healing poorly on my hands.'

This is all Enid's fault, Wednesday determines. She turns her head to watch her peacefully, blissfully ignorant sleeping roommate. 

Maybe she should come through with the threat of smothering Enid with a pillow. But in the end, Wednesday turns her head back to the ceiling. 

It’s then that Thing opens the door and scuttles across the room in haste. She sits up as he climbs up onto her bed and pulls at her blanket.

"What is it, Thing?" Wednesday frowns.

Thing begins signing and tapping.

"Speak clearly, Thing. You're skipping words."

Thing taps frustratedly but slows down.

"Someone…slapped…back today?" Wednesday raises her brow but then frowns deeper. "It opened a wound up...and you can't fix it yourself? Need help...now?"

Thing taps multiple times to signify that is correct. Immediately, Wednesday gets out of bed and grabs her sweater. 

"Where is she? Her room or her studio?" Wednesday asks as she shoves on her shoes, and Thing climbs onto her shoulder.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When Wednesday arrives at your studio, following the same sequence she did weeks ago, she finds you fallen on the ground, your wings just barely over your shoulder as you hold yourself up by your elbows.

Blood drips down and soaks your feathers, somehow making obsidian look even darker. 

Wednesday walks up quickly and crouches beside you, and you barely notice her until she speaks. "Who did this to you? I want their name." She seethes.

"It was...an accident," you raggedly breathe. "She didn't know. Meant to be a friendly goodnight clap on the back."

But that doesn’t soothe Wednesday at all. Not when the back of your dress shirt is dredged in so much blood that there isn’t even a spot of white left, and your right wing twitching in obvious pain.

"What can I do?" Wednesday demands, but there was a softness to it that is almost desperation. 

You swallow. "I—I need you to move my wing over my shoulder more—until I can reach the cut to seal it." You screw your shut. "I can't move it on my own."

Wednesday nods. She carefully reaches out to touch your wing.

It is velvety.

Wednesday imagines it would've been more magnificent to the touch had your feathers not been weighed down and saturated by blood. 

As Wednesday begins to spread your wing up and over, your breath hitches sharply.

Wednesday stops.

"Don't stop," you grit your teeth, taking in ragged breaths. "It hurts the longer you drag it out. Just—be gentle."

Gentle is not often used to describe Wednesday. She’s sharp and jagged, like broken glass. That's probably why she still plans to discover who did this to you and slowly butcher them—accident or not—as she carefully keeps moving your wing.

When it’s finally close enough for you to reach, Wednesday watches you use healing magic for the second time that day. You slump onto the grass, exhausted. 

Thing grabs Wednesday's attention to the pile of towels neatly folded in a tree's hollow trunk. She finds a set of spare clothing and grabs those along with the towels. 

"Is the pond water sterile?"

You nod with your eyes shut.

Wednesday places the shirt next to you and then turns to the pond, and sticks her hand in to find it was lukewarm before she soaks one of the towels.

“Change into this clean shirt for now,” Wednesday orders you but her tone lacks the usual bite. She wrings the towel and passes it to Thing. “Help her wipe the blood on her back. Turn around as she changes,” Wednesday warns Thing.

Wednesday turns away and keeps her focus on the pond, soaking the next towel. Thing taps her leg when they’re done. You look extra tired from having to change shirts but it was better than letting your bloody shirt make you sticky and then crust over before you could shower. You seem to realize it yourself as you make an effort to keep your dirty wings from soaking your shirt again.

When she returns to you, Wednesday cleans the blood out of your feathers gently but thoroughly. When she uses her fingers to brush aside some of the feathers, your wings trill. 

"Tickles," you mumble. 

Wednesday doesn’t comment as she continues until the blood is washed out and properly dried. Thing hands her the ointment you use and begins to apply the salve with precision. 

It’s quiet.

Peaceful.

Wednesday feels the tension in her shoulders leave now that you are fine and she is here. 

All those hypothetical thoughts and conversations flew right out of her head.

"I will apply this for you from now on."

You open one eye to peek at Wednesday, and she stares back at you as if to challenge her. You close your eye again and nod.

"Thanks for your services, Thing," you mumble tiredly. "Your severance package will be a bottle of dew drops."

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[bongwatershots]

[kurooh]

Can you make something with Sero and Shinsou? Maybe they firts eating you out or making you squirt (I'm just really dumb I asked in the comment section and I don't even know if I'm sending it in the right place, it's my first ever ask, so sorry for anything and the bad english, I love your writing so much lots of love for you)

SOMETHING NEW ☆ MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. featuring midoriya izuku, sero hanta, kaminari denki, shinsou hitoshi, & takami keigo trying something new in the bedroom with you.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesome, oral, facesitting, squirting, a vibrator, filming, orgasm denial, nothing too crazy

xoxo, juno. no worries your english is perfectly fine!! i saw your comment but i’ve been busy so i’m sorry this took a while 🥲 thank you & sending you lots of love <3

MIDORIYA IZUKU + a vibrator

“uhhh, what setting do you want it on?”

you giggle softly as izuku fumbles with the wand, eyes widening when it buzzes out of control once he mistakenly presses the highest setting. “how about you amp it up as we go, ‘zuku?”

he’s flushed down to his neck as his thumb rubs reassuring circles into your thigh, wand moving closer to your cunt. the head settles onto your clit and izuku pushes two fingers inside of you, which you adjust to with a hushed exhale.

“‘s good,” you nod, laying back onto the pillows as heat settles in your lower stomach.

“i’d hope so,” izuku chuckles nervously, curling his fingers inside you and prodding against your g-spot while the vibrations against your clit get barely stronger. “is this okay?”

“hm, yeah,” you huff, wiggling your hips as your hand comes to rest on top of his. he watches as you push the vibrator harder against you, gesturing to the buttons. “do it like you mean it, ‘zuku.”

“are you sure?” he’s painstakingly awkward when it comes to trying something new, having never used a vibrator before or watched you use it. you’d been working together to clear out your nightstands when he came across the pink wand, questioning what it was until you told him and asked him if he’d like to try it out on you.

“of course i am,” you wink, hand slipping away from his and relinquishing control. carefully, izuku presses the button, turning it up and increasing the power of the vibrations against your clit.

the new, welcomed change in stimulation pulls delicious moans from your lips, and his cock eagerly twitches in his pants. with this, he could easily have you sobbing and begging for more. what if he paired this toy with his cock sometime?

the simple thought has him creating an entire scenario in his head, unconsciously amping it up a few settings.

“fuck!” you exclaim, back arching right off the bed as you buck closer to him. “i-izuku, that’s perfect.”

“yeah? feeling close at all?” he hums, voice lilting into a curious, innocent tone. the setting is changed again, buzzing growing louder as your clit swells beneath the head of the toy.

“n-now i am,” it’s so much stimulation and the continuous, random changes of the settings make it so that you can’t catch your breath. just seeing you spread out for him on the bed has izuku’s eyes widening and growing teary as he thinks of how far this could go.

“already, huh?” izuku finds his confidence growing, a large palm coming down roughly against your ass. “know what, baby?”

he flicks his thumb against the button and the change has your eyes rolling back into your skull. some kind of noise comes from your parted, spit slicked lips in place of your voice.

“how about,” his eyes rise to connect with yours, gleaming with something filthy. “you don’t cum till i tell you to? is that alright, baby?”

KAMINARI DENKI & SERO HANTA + threesome

“so, about that bet..” a smug little smile has denki’s lips curling, and hanta’s eyes rolling in aggravation.

“seriously, dude? you wanna ask right now?”

“shut up, there’s no rule against it,” the blonde replies petulantly, sticking his tongue out and still fucking into you, maintaining his brutal pace with long, languid strokes. “so? we’re dying to know.”

you shudder, gagging on hanta’s cock as denki pulls you back onto his own, asscheeks slapping against his thighs.

“i don’t think she can answer you, idiot.” hanta bites back a moan, scoffing towards his best friend instead. denki’s shameless, moaning in between each word he says to either you or hanta.

“feelin’ good, baby?” his jaw clenches at the sight of hanta’s hand on your head, urging you to take his cock deeper into your throat.

the whole reason you’d even gotten into this situation was because the three of you found out you were all fucking one another on the down low. then questions were flying through the air like arrows, each of them hounding you about who you thought fucked better. i don’t know, you’d said, let’s all find out.

drool races down hanta’s balls as you choke on his length, which tenses and thickens on your tongue. “shit, i’m gonna cum,” he gasps, hanging his head and looking down at you with stars in his eyes. “w-will you swallow it all for me?”

“you’re losing for sure, couldn’t even last more than three minutes,” denki laughs, interrupting hanta’s moment of bliss with his stupidity. thankfully, he’s ignored, and hanta pretends he’s not even there, allowing himself to cum down your throat with a groan. he’s forced to steady himself by planting his hands on your back, already beginning to shake as your throat contracts around him.

“real greedy, huh?” he gasps, his voice raspy.

despite all his talk, denki follows suit, desperately rubbing at your clit so you’ll cum with him. thankfully, hanta pulls back to watch, fingers stroking over the taut muscles of your shoulders.

“fuck fuck fuck,” denki sobs, beads of sweat racing down his nose as he feels his body grow hotter. “b-baby, gonna cum inside you—”

your back arches, body nearly collapsing onto the bed. “i’m cumming too,” you manage, swallowing as tears fall from your eyes. your last demand is simple before you fall forward into the duvet. “d-denki, fuck me through it, please..”

hanta’s already hard just from your voices, slowly stroking his cock while denki pushes himself halfway in and lets go with a choked groan. cum spurts into you, and he pulls out quickly, watching as it pours from your sloppy cunt.

“well. i’m ready for another round.” hanta’s voice is playful but you and denki are exhausted, collapsing on one another with heaving sighs.

“dude, read the room,” denki huffs, wiping the sweat from your forehead and offering you a bottle of water.

“oh, you cannot be talking,” hanta snaps, fully naked and jumping up in astonishment. “i recall saying the exact thing when you were—”

they start arguing, and you just turn over and pray you fall asleep. even when they realize you’re trying to sleep, they go back and forth about waking you up.

SHINSOU HITOSHI + facesitting & squirting

“come here, now.”

“are you really sure? i can always just lay on my back like usual, i really don’t want to hurt you.”

hitoshi scoffs, impatiently waving you over with a bored huff. “i promise you won’t. sit down and stop worrying, baby.”

you balk at his lightly demanding tone, crawling across the bed and biting your lip as you position your thighs on either side of his head. still, you’re hesitant — it’s obvious in the way you’re hovering above his face.

“my tongue won’t be able to reach your clit,” hitoshi says bluntly, unimpressed with your nervousness. what are you so afraid of? you’ve been together for so long, you should know by now that he’d be happy to go out between your thighs. air simply doesn’t matter when your pleasure’s on the line.

a whimper slips past your lips and you lower yourself carefully, clit bumping into the tip of his nose. “is this good enough, toshi?”

“mhm,” comes his voice from below you; he’s entranced by the sight of your soaked pussy, practically dripping, all from a few well placed kisses along your body. “relax and enjoy it, okay? i want this—i want to taste you.”

“o-okay,” you huff out, and hitoshi rests a large hand on your asscheek. if he spanks you, you might lose your balance and crush him.

“don’t be afraid to make a mess for me, baby,” his last words are no louder than a whisper, and he gives your clit an experimental lick. his tongue is silky, sticky with the saliva that’s been pooling in his mouth at the thought of tasting you.

“again,” the command rushes past your lips before you can stop it. “lick my clit again.”

hitoshi’s hand comes down hard against your asscheek, and you waver above him; he notices your pointless resistance to sit fully. how cute, you’re that concerned for his ability to breathe.

“where are those manners, baby? as far as i’m concerned, you haven’t the liberty to ask for anything without fully sitting down.”

oh, so he’s trying to force you to take a seat.

but you shut up, lowering yourself down further, and hitoshi lets out a moan of approval, licking up your sticky pussy. glossy strings of slick gather on his tongue, and your taste is truly so addictive that he can’t help but rush in for more without taking a moment to breathe.

“oh, hitoshi,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. he’s pushed two fingers inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up and stretching you out deliciously. the initial sting before the rush of pleasure is a feeling that makes your head spin.

“mmm,” hitoshi groans deeply against your cunt, nose pushing into your clit as he speaks. “put your hand on your lower stomach for me.”

without asking questions, you do as he says, placing a hand right above your pelvic bone. his hand moves from your ass and comes down on top of yours, pushing it down into the soft skin.

“good girl,” hitoshi huffs out, lavishing your clit with attention from his tongue, curling his fingers inside you while also pressing your hand into your lower stomach. a new pressure builds inside you, white hot and only making your pussy even wetter.

what is this?

hitoshi feels the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm without needing a warning; your walls squeeze his fingers so hard they’re almost pushed out, muscles in your thighs tensing on either side of his head. “it’s coming, ‘s coming,” is all you can sob out to describe the unfamiliar feeling that’s taken place inside your body, “hitoshi, it’s gonna—”

oh, the way you say his name is something he’ll always commit to memory no matter how many times he’s heard it. your voice is frantic as you give in to the pleasure, sitting all the way down on his face and then grinding on it. this is what he was after the whole time—he wanted you to use him to get off, take the lead so he’d have no choice but to follow.

“hitoshi,” is all you can sob out, voice breaking into teary moans as you succumb to pleasure. out of control, your pussy gushes waterfalls of liquid onto his face, into his mouth, all over his skin.

even as you’re riding out the high on his face, hitoshi’s sure to help you through it, tonguing at your sensitive cunt and drinking in everything you’re giving him. “it’s t-too much, i can’t take it,” and you try to move off him, but he easily prevents you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking tightly.

the action pulls a pitched whine from you as you realize you cannot move away and catch a break from the intense pleasure.

“toshi—”

“that was fucking perfect,” he grunts against you, licking your mess off his lips eagerly. “i want you to do that again for me.”

“what was that?” you muster, lifting up with a gasp. your pussy made quite the mess — covering his entire face with shimmery slick and other juices.

“you squirted, baby,” hitoshi says simply, “and you’ll get more familiar with it in just a moment.”

“what’s that mean?” nervousness lines your words.

“you’ll get more acquainted with what it is after some practice. it’s better to learn sooner rather than later, hm?”

TAKAMI KEIGO + filming & orgasm denial

“hehe, is it on, kei?”

“shhh! it’s been on, babe.”

you suppress a cute laugh, looking back to the phone propped up on the dresser. from a distance, you see your reflection — you’re on your belly, between keigo’s thighs, face to face with his hard cock. you’d been going back and forth about when he’d go away on missions, how you both needed something better than your imaginations while you were apart.

keigo wiggles his hips, pushing close to you impatiently. you roll your eyes, making a show of leaning forward and taking him in inch by inch, until you’re gagging at his base.

“jesus, fuck—!” his back lurches off the bed and he laughs awkwardly at how quickly he’s reacting, but it dissolves into a groan almost immediately.

his fingers lightly ghost the sides of your face as he looks at you adoringly, “you’re beautiful when you’re sucking me off like this.”

you hum appreciatively, the vibrations resonating through his entire lower body and pulling a gasp from his throat. he wants to say more, but he doesn’t want to have to hear his own voice every second when he’s jerking off in the future.

just the thought of jerking off in the future makes a fantasy play like a video behind his eyes — you, fingering yourself to his moans and gasps of pleasure. how would your nimble fingers toy with your clit in place of his own? would you cry out his name as you cum, tears streaking down your face from the intensity of the stimulation? at the same moment, would he be thousands of miles away doing the exact same thing?

“s-shit, baby,” keigo stutters out a curse, his thighs trembling beneath your fingers, nails pressing into his skin to keep steady. “i’m gonna cum soon.”

his words spur you on, and you take him deeper, increasing your pace. the squelching sound of his cock stroking into your throat grows louder, filling the air. that video is about to become the most valuable file on his phone.

the desperation hangs off every word of his, sending a bolt of pleasure right between your legs. there’s a delicious tension in the air between you, and he’s raring to relieve it, hurtling closer to his orgasm by the millisecond.

one of the biggest pro heroes in japan has been reduced to a shaking mess by your touch; keigo’s wings flap violently, kicking up stray vermillion feathers and messing up the blankets. his voice breaks as you pull your head back, then take him deep into your throat. “i-i’m gonna cum— dove, swallow it all,” with two fingers, you tightly squeeze his base and pull off his cock with a pop.

“what are you—? why did you do that?” this denial is so frustrating that he feels a pathetic lump in his throat and tears pricking the corners of his eyes. he was so close to his euphoric high, only for you to rip it away.

“not yet,” is your calm answer as your free hand pushes his jolting hips down. “soon enough, keigo. let’s have some fun before you cum.”

his wings are trembling, quivering from the force in which his almost orgasm was ripped from his grasp. usually, he’d be annoyed, but this is so devastating and he can’t place why. he tries to nudge your head so you’ll suck him off to completion.

“i’m in control now,” you say into his skin, peppering featherlight kisses along his shaking thighs. you look back at the still recording phone on the dresser, and your lips split into a grin. “kei, it’ll be alright. just a few more times and you’ll be cumming in my mouth.”

he can’t help but feel like there’s dishonesty behind those singsongy words, and nods trustingly. “make me cum for real this time, baby.”

[vividxpages]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

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