#its so wild to me that hes 14

[freeher]

my body had a physical negative reaction after looking at the photo of that colt mf sticking his tongue out. someone PLEASE go back in time and restrict his internet access.

[yesokayiknow]

human au. some of these guys spend too much time on here and it shows

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

*Ages of this post based on information from Jason and Tim's original runs in the 80s, as im still in the process of reading the comics and I respect original runs more anyway

Jason was 12 (pre-crisis, not contradicted) when Bruce adopted him at some point after Dick left, and Dick had left Wayne Manor for about 2 years by the time Jason died (Batman #436) making Jason 14 at death, to turn 15 that year if his birthday is August 16th

Tim is 13 when he introduces himself after Jason's death (Batman #441)

They have like, a 1-2 year age difference

Jason returns to life 6 months after his death, spends 1 year in the hospital, then 1 year on the streets before someone recognizes him as Robin, then 1 year with the league of assassin's before being thrown into the pit (Batman Annual #25)

A total of 3 years with Jason running on just instinct and muscle memory before being healed by the pit

Therefore, Jason, while physically older, is largely missing 3 years of his life

Jason is younger than Tim

Thank you coming to my ted talk

(Dont take this seriously please bcksbdjsnks)

[finalgirlmegumi]

god i hate sansan so much its unreal. GET A JOB STAY AWAY FROM HER‼️‼️

[hai-nae]

welp i did it again, i finally posted the piece i actually finished awhile ago for kat|verse on ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/47551195 the leopard pose was referenced by that picture of a lioness and cub by photographer yaron schmid.

[lockedtowers]

seeing ppl in the tags super used to the j/apperwock(y) in b/urton's alice and then getting mad at how 'ugly' the s/yfy version is is absolutely hilarious to me bc the s/yfy version is literally just lifted from the original illustrations

[warlordfelwinter]

for some reason i just started thinking about fiver having literally no reason to know how old any of his friends are and he wouldn't guess bc he's used to viera where you Just Can't Tell. like at most he'd know the twins are Probably Children and just assumes everyone else is older than him bc they're smart and powerful and he's got youngest sibling syndrome

then it's someone's birthday and they're turning like. 33 or something because 90% of the npcs in this game are 32 (seriously, why are so many of them 32) and fiver's like "wait what" and everyone reveals that they're at least 6 or 7 years younger than him, apart from g'raha's soul/mind but then he points out he was 24 when they first met and fiver just has to leave the room

[liiionhearted]

on one hand i am delighted by the prospect of marius and armand having a more uhh egalitarian relationship in the show (all of them seem to be a good deal older than their book counterparts) but on the other hand i still need them to be painful and fucked up enough to make a large selection of ppl shit their pants and die

[cressidagrey]

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough. 

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 

Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 

Feyre could just stare. 

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 

The reactions were immediate. 

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

[clockwayswrites]

Birb in a box Part 14

masterpost

By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.

Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.

Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)

A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.

The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.

Which was odd.

Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?

“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”

Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.

“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”

Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”

“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.

“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.

His son ignored him.

“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”

“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.

“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”

“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”

“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”

“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”

“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”

Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”

“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.

Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”

Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”

“Not good at that?” Dick asked.

He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.

“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”

“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”

“No kidding,” Dick said.

Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”

Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”

“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”

Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.

Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.

“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.

Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”

“A very nice way to look at it. I—”

“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.

Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.

“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”

“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.

“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”

“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.

“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”

“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.

Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.

---

AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!

[cinderellakinnie]

ok not to get controversial on main but theres one particular ship in a tv show that i am v much into like its in my top 10 fandoms in bookmarks on ao3 but people have gotten so into it lately and i dont get it also people are going to complain abt it being queerbaiting wjen its not

the characters barely interact AND its literally just putitng two boys of the same ahe together

[padfootagain]

Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Pairing : Hozier x fem!reader

Professor! AU

Warnings: hurt-comfort, angst, fluff, no smut but suggestive scenes so 18+ only

Chapter 1 : 'And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately'

Chapter 2 : 'Through me the way to the City of Woe'

Chapter 3 : ‘I miss him in the wheeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide’

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Chapter 6 : ‘I’ll lie here and learn how, over their ground, trees make a long shadow and a light sound’

Chapter 7 : 'And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.'

Chapter 8 : 'I hope she never learns how to peel oranges'

Chapter 9 : 'I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river-- where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues'

Chapter 10 : '[I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea'

Chapter 11: ‘Lived to see you throwing me aside.’

Chapter 12 : 'Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again'

Chapter 13: ‘So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.’

Chapter 14: ‘Why should I blame her that she filled my days with misery’

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Chapter 16 : ‘Only the things I didn’t do crackle after the blazing dies’

Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Chapter 19: ‘I knew winter cold like the nuzzle of fjords at my thighs’

Chapter 20 : 'My heart has made its mind up and I’m afraid it’s you'

Chapter 21: ‘I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love’

Chapter 22 : ‘And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn’t matter, the hills weren’t going anywhere’

Chapter 23 : 'Even the dearest that I loved the best are strange – nay, rather, stranger than the rest'

Chapter 24: ‘Sometimes, when I’m pleased, I let out a little sound. A poet noticed this and it made me feel I might one day properly be loved. Because no one is here to love me, I make tea for myself and leave the radio playing’

Chapter 25: ‘They will think of ways to make you smile so you can be happy for a while’

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Kinktober day 14

Rope bunny

You trusted Logan with your life. That's why, when he said he wanted to try something new with you, you agreed.

You never imagined he meant tying you up. Not that you're complaining. Not at all.

Your hands tied up to the headboard, wrists bound there and making you unable to touch him.

His hands, meanwhile, are everywhere. All over your stomach, your thighs, your breasts. He's touching you the same way someone would worship something divine.

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, down to your tits. He sucks on your nipples while his hand parts your thighs.

His fingers deftly find your clit, rubbing it in those slow circles he knows drive you crazy.

“You're so pretty, baby,” he tells you, his breathing heavy, eyes dark with lust. “Such a good, good girl.”

You moan as his middle finger trails lower, tracing your entrance and gathering the slick there.

“Such a pretty toy,” he murmurs, slipping a finger inside. “You're gonna behave for me, right?”

You nod, breath hitching. “Y-yes, sir.”

“That's right.” He kisses down your body, sliding his ring and middle fingers into you as his mouth makes its way to your clit. “Daddy's gonna treat you real nice. I'm gonna keep going until you're crying for me to stop.” He glances up at you with that wild look in his eyes. “And you won't be able to do anything about it, just stay there, tied up like a good little slut.”

---

Taglist

@wolviesgirl @sad0ni0n 

---

Blog masterlist

Kinktober masterlist

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 13

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 13 🔞

Word Count: 4915

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: A little NSFW in the opening of the chapter, okay? And now... the drama begins to unfold... I'm very torn between downright heartbreaking angst and just a little bit of angst for the ending chapters... I'll be giving this a thought in the next days as I try to finish this story before starting work! Thank you for reading! (I swear Tumblr hates me. I cannot add the song right again...)

|Masterlist| | |Chapter 12| | |Chapter 14🔞|

Morning breaks too soon, but you're roused awake by more than just the call of the birds. It's the gentle caress against your bare back that rubs away the sleep, it's the lull of comfort that his scent brings you and the serenity of it all that warms your heart. You're awake, you're alive, and you're in love. 

“Morning.” You whisper softly. “Am I ever going to wake up before you?” You say after a yawn assaults you. 

Law's soft chuckle makes your head move slightly against his bare chest. “Unlikely. I'm a very light sleeper.”

You snuggle closer, stretching your legs before wrapping them again around his, in a limb cocoon. “Yeah, that makes sense. With the hospital calling, right?” He hums against the crown of your head and places a gentle kiss there. The simplicity of the gesture is a stark contrast to the depth of its meaning. A kiss makes you shudder, a gentle caress makes you melt, a gaze completely unravels you. The hold Trafalgar Law has on you is inexplicable, and totally out of your control. Strangely enough, this is the one thing you don't wish to have any control over. 

Love is better when it runs wild and free. Not leashed or caged, as you very well know. 

“Want to tell me what's on your beautiful mind?” He murmurs against your head and you snuggle impossibly closer, your arms wrapping tightly around his torso. 

“Nothing much.”

“I can feel your brain whirling from up here, you know.”

You snort. “Wouldn't put it past you. I was just…” Everything. He wants to know and hear everything you have to say. “I'm so happy, Law.”

His hand reaches down, tucking your chin gently upwards so your eyes meet. The world stops just for you, the perfection of the moment being carved with intricate detail into the confines of your memory. “Me too, sweetheart.” 

With just three words, you know that your feelings towards Law are reciprocated and mirrored, and damn if that isn't the best feeling in the world. But then he presses his lips softly against yours, and maybe this is the best feeling in the world instead. 

As his tongue swipes your lower lip, sucking and pulling at it for a light nibble, you roll your body over his and part your lips to welcome his tongue. His hands lower from your upper back down your spine, settling on your hips and then your thighs as he parts them so you can straddle him. The kiss deepens, and you can feel how hard he already is, pressed against you, but the pressure of his hands on your thighs doesn't let you move a muscle to even think about grinding against him. 

He parts the kiss, and you chase his mouth, clearly not done yet, but he doesn't care for your frustrated groan as he rolls you onto your back and untangles the sheets from your bodies. When his gaze meets yours, he's wearing your favourite unhinged grin. “I believe I still owe you something from last night.” The velvet in his voice sends a shudder down your spine that gathers at your core.

“Owe me?”

His thumb teases your perked nipple as he lays a trail of kisses from your sternum down to your stomach. “I said fingers, tongue, and cock.”

A rush of heat courses through you as his intentions are now clear. 

“I'm still missing one of those.” 

“Law…” You start, but any coherent thought is quickly pushed to the side when his mouth starts to trace and nibble your inner thigh. “Law!” You repeat his name, but now with the fervour of need behind it.

He hovers just above your wet slit, and you exhale a shaky breath. You’re naked since you both fell asleep almost instantly last night, so there’s nothing between his expert tongue and your dripping self. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” His warm breath tingles and ignites. With a heavy sigh, you push your hips down, trying to force contact, but his hands grip your thighs, and he chuckles. “Impatient and needy. You don’t like mornings much, do you?”

Law flicks his tongue and swipes it lazily between your folds, pulling a decadent moan from your parted lips. You don’t care much for mornings, he’s right, but if he decides to wake you up like this, you might just come to love them.

“But I’m still not sure about what you want.” He drawls, nuzzling your clit with his goatee. The harshness of the gesture just makes you sigh out another moan. How is he so devastatingly good at tearing your sanity apart? 

“Your tongue, Law. I need your tongue!” You say between harsh breaths. You’ve learned to just tell him what you want and need these past days. He’s going to pull the words out of you one way or another. 

“And what should I do with my tongue, exactly?” That! Fuck! Law just rolled your clit between his tongue and teeth, and the closeness of pain and pleasure made little black and white dots float in your vision. 

“Fuck me with your tongue, Law, please!” You gasp out, unable to hold back anymore, your body arching, already seeking more pleasure as your fists grip the sheets for some kind of grounding or purchase. 

“That’s my good girl.” You moan loudly as he plunges his tongue inside you, reaching far and then curling it upwards. It’s heavenly and divine, and, at the same time, ungodly and sinful. Just like the man himself.

“Law! Oh, fuck!” Your hand clamps against your mouth, trying to stifle the loud sounds you can’t seem to contain as Law plays with your clit again, his long fingers probing your insides with expertise. 

“Scream my name loud and clear, sweetheart. I want to hear you fall apart, just for me.” 

You’re barely holding on to any sane thought. All you can think about is Law’s tongue, Law’s deep voice, Law’s fingers, Law, Law, Law. He’s everywhere, he’s everything.

“That’s it, I can feel you tightening up just for me, sweetheart. Let it go.”

You cry out his name just as you unravel, a wave of pleasure washing over you, bright and hot and so, so blissful. He doesn’t stop, even as you bury your hands in his hair and clench your thighs around him, mewling and moaning with overstimulation. He pushes a little further, and your legs start to quiver, pain fluttering to another cresting wave of pleasure, like smaller waves following a huge tsunami. 

Your litany of gasps and moans turns into a desperate prayer or curse, you can’t quite tell, as Law’s tongue draws out the last remnants of pleasure from you, until you’re completely drained, with your chest heaving and sweat dampening your skin. 

You're still trying to catch your breath, fingers entwined in Law's dark locks as he stares smugly at you from his perch between your thighs when you hear it. 

Knock, knock. Two light taps on the door. Fuck. Whoever it was definitely heard you moan and cry out Law's name in pleasure. Law grunts, a scowl immediately twisting his lips as he slips on his pyjama pants and drapes the sheet over your naked body. 

“What?” He asks before wiping his mouth against his arm and unlocking the door. From where you're lying, you can make out the tall figure of Doflamingo, and though you can't see the expression on his face, you can bet he's wearing an insufferable smirk. 

“Good morning, nephew.” According to his long drawl, he's definitely smirking and he more than likely heard you. “I'm so sorry to bother you this early. Baby 5 needs your lovely novia to be a bridesmaid, if that's okay. Her friend couldn't make it, and there's a surprise groomsman who can't walk unaccompanied down the aisle, but she’ll explain all the boring details.” His chuckle seems ominous and foreboding. “I was going to drop the dress at the door but… I heard you were awake, so…”

His words linger in the air, and, even though there's no chance he can see you because Law is blocking his vision, you shrink in the bed and blush crimson. You had been very vocal about your pleasure, trusting Cora’s assurance that you have your own wing of the mansion. You just weren't expecting guests this early. You're horrified. 

You see Law leaning in to accept a dress from his uncle’s hands. “Sure, thanks.” Law's voice is clipped but affected. “Bye.” He closes the door, but Doflamingo wedges a foot in so he can't close it completely. 

“I’ve had a tough time waking up today, what with all the partying last night… but it’s no wonder you look so awake, Law. If I had someone cry my name and make all those pretty noises for me, I wouldn't have needed two cups of coffee already.” He purrs softly, his obnoxious laughter lingering in the hallway as you hear Law growl. This is mortifying! Anyone else would pretend they didn't hear anything! But Doffy had to rub it in your face. You sink further into the bed.

“Get lost, Doffy!” Law's voice is a mix of anger and frustration as he pushes the door against his uncle's foot. 

“Oh, come on, nephew, don't take offence by my comment. It was a compliment, you clearly take to my side of the family.” Doflamingo’s laugh echoes down the corridor as he finally removes his foot, allowing Law to close the door, grunting in dissatisfaction before he finds you hiding in an embarrassed ball under the covers. 

Then his frustration simmers into light amusement as he calls your name. “Have you combusted into ash from embarrassment, or will I find you in one piece if I lift these covers?”

You chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood but don't emerge from your cocoon. “God, Law!” A giggle escapes your lips. “He's terrible!”

You face a pair of amused eyes when Law slowly peels the sheet from over your head. “He just loves to get a rise out of people, he thrives on getting reactions.”

“How am I going to face him later?” You groan, then immediately pout at Law, gently swatting him in the arm. “It's your fault! He wouldn't have heard anything if we were just cuddling innocently.”

Law's smirk sends a spark of need through you, and you swallow hard. “Sweetheart, I'm never going to apologise for making you scream my name again and again. In fact, I encourage it.” He leans over your form and takes your lips in his in a slow, languid kiss. You can still taste the remnants of your arousal on his tongue and that only makes you moan. “Are you up for an encore?”

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him down for another kiss, but you groan into him in frustration. “I think my performance was worthy of a Tony. No encore needed. Besides, we need to shower, we have a wedding to attend to.”

Law chases your mouth with his, not letting you go so easily. “The shower works, too. Better acoustics.” Your giggle gets lost in another kiss as he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. 

You’ll get to showering, eventually.

-*-

The dress Baby 5 sent you fits almost perfectly, but there’s a note attached to it that says to meet her and the other bridesmaids in her room for a final fitting. The dress is burgundy - a colour you’ve seen throughout all the decorations - and, surprisingly, it actually looks good on you, despite your earlier grimace. It’s tasteful and elegant. 

Law is taking you to Baby 5’s room since you have no idea where it is, and he’s already complimented your appearance twice. 

“Here you are.” He stops in front of a door and smirks. “I can’t stop ogling you, you look perfect.” 

A light blush creeps into your cheeks. “You need to stop that, Law. I’ll become obnoxiously conceited.” He chuckles with you. “Head down to breakfast, I’ll meet you soon.” With a languorous kiss that sends all the butterflies in your stomach into early flight, he leaves you and you enter the bride’s room. 

“Honey, you made it! Oh, the dress looks amazing on you!” Baby 5 is wearing a white silk robe, and her hair is already done, she looks beautiful. After a quick hug, she spins you around, assessing you. “Maybe a little tighter here in the waist? We want the ‘ladies’ to pop up!” She giggles as she refers to your breasts. 

When the seamstress starts to work on your dress, Baby 5 introduces you to the rest of her friends - it’s a party of six, including you - and explains why she needs you.

“You’re a lifesaver, really. My friend had to cancel last week because she got into an accident - she’s fine! But she broke her hip and couldn't come. And then Sai’s groomsman had already cancelled as well - something about a business commitment he had to attend - except yesterday, all of a sudden, he called saying he was free and could attend!”

You keep nodding and moving as the seamstress asks you to, feeling a bit like a dress-up doll. 

“So now I had a groomsman walking the aisle alone! That can’t happen! This has to be a perfect wedding. I was ready to tell Sai that one of the groomsmen needed to already be at the altar when my father suggested I ask you!” 

It was Doflamingo’s suggestion? A chill runs through your spine at the thought. You need to be on alert, then. This could be something else he planned to try and test you.

“Well, I’m really flattered by the invite. And happy to help, you’ve been so welcoming to me.” You’re being truthful, Baby 5 treated you immediately as a friend. 

The seamstress finishes the slight adjustments, and you parade for the bride at her request. She’s dressed in a simple white dress, just for breakfast. She’ll change into her wedding gown after.

“Perfect. You look beautiful. Has my taciturn cousin said so already? Or do I need to bonk him on the head?” You smile and blush a little at her comment. 

“He said it more than once, actually.”

“You two make me gag. You’re so cute!” She laughs. “I saw the photographs on the camera yesterday!” She sighs. “I’m so glad Law found someone who can make him that happy.” Baby 5 grabs your hands. “Thank you. Now, off to breakfast, we can’t delay the schedule.”

-*-

You come down for breakfast that, much like yesterday's brunch, is being served outside. It takes you a minute to find Law, but, as soon as you make eye contact, Doflamingo wanders near you with a wolfish grin. 

“Hello, princesa.” You blush, thinking about what he heard in the morning. “I hope you are well rested.” Your eyebrow shoots up, and he looks to Law, who's approaching you both. “No time for small talk, though, such a shame. Have you told my nephew about Vinsmoke yet? Because you should have done it.” You lock eyes with Doffy's terrifying red gaze. 

You completely forgot to bring that up. Ichiji was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but if Doffy is bringing him up right now... that can only mean…

“Oh well, now it's too late. Hi, Law!” Doffy exclaims just as Law approaches and places his hand on the small of your back, pulling you toward his side. “So glad you're here. Sai’s groomsman has just arrived, and he wants to say hi to you.”

No, no, no, no…

“To me?” Law asks as he scans you over, not missing the erratic breaths leaving your lips or the worried look on your face. Your hand falls limp against his chest, fingers grasping his shirt for support.

“Well, to both of you, actually, being an old friend and all.”

You gasp, your throat constricting as the pounding in your heart increases. A wave of dizziness makes you wobble as you grasp onto Law. It can't be! 

No, no, no, God no. 

“Remember Vinsmoke Ichiji?” Doffy's words are slow and calculated, his gaze lingering on your face. Law looks at you with a raised brow, his grip tightening on your waist since you're clearly not well. 

Your heart drops to your stomach, and it’s so overwhelming that all the blood drains from your face. You can’t stop your eyes from meeting his. He looks as manipulative and imposing as you remember him to be: Tall, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, fiery red hair coiffed back, and that damn, smug smirk on his lips. You lose strength in your legs again, the air escaping your lips comes in ragged gasps. This cannot be happening. 

“Hello, Doll. Long time no see, you look stunning as ever.”

“Without me, you're useless! Just a pretty face, like a little doll.”

“Be a good Doll for me and be quiet. I have business to take care of.”

“Doll, you don't know better than me! Stop acting like it!”

“Yes, Doll. Don't worry. Tears are just a sign of weakness. We can't all be strong.”

“Doll.”

That damn nickname. You suck in a shaky breath, your body tight with tension. You can barely look away from Ichiji's piercing gaze, too trapped in the awful memories of the past, but you notice Law out of the corner of your eye. 

He looks at you, then at Ichiji, and you can actually see the flicker of recognition when he puts two and two together. Why didn't you tell him earlier? How's he going to react now? 

“Inconvenient as always, Vinsmoke, I see. She's not your ‘doll’.” Law moves his arm from your waist to your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “She’s my girlfriend.”

What was it? Four months…? Five? Something around that, for sure. Nearly half a year without looking at him, and he still has this strange hold on you. You can barely breathe, it’s as if the world has been tipped off its axis and you’re falling indefinitely. 

“Trafalgar Law… well, she is used to the fine things in life, obviously, she would seek someone who could provide her safety and comfort. I just didn’t think she would downgrade that much.” 

Is he trying to paint you as a gold digger? This has got to be Doflamingo’s work. Law grips your shoulder, and you find your feet. “You wish you were half the man Law is, Ichiji.” You seethe, venom dripping from your words, even though you can feel yourself shaking like a leaf. 

“I love it when you talk back, Doll. It’s so much more satisfying when you finally break.”

“We’re done here.” Law lowers his arm and grabs your hand firmly, turning you both away from the scene as Doffy watches from the sidelines, a glint of amusement behind his tinted glasses. The look Law gives Ichiji before parting is cold and dangerous, and you take pride in seeing Ichiji’s smirk falter slightly before Law guides you away from the scene and into the house.

When you find an empty hallway, your heart starts pounding at an increased pace, the ringing in your ears is unbearable, and you lean against the wall, closing your eyes shut and covering your ears. 

You can make out Law saying something in the background, but you’re trying so hard to keep it together. One… breathe in. Two… breathe out.

Then two strong arms envelop you, and you're pressed against Law’s chest. The next inhale you take smells like home: Law’s cologne and that characteristic ‘doctor scent’ he carries of disinfectant. Pungent, warm, comforting. 

Gradually, you relax your body, your hands finding purchase against Law’s chest as he rubs soothing circles against your back. When your breath normalises, Law lifts your chin so he can look at you, and the care in his eyes almost breaks you again. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m here.”

You nod softly. If it weren’t for Law’s presence, an encounter with Ichiji would’ve triggered a full-blown panic attack. “I’m sorry, Law, I’m so sorry! I meant to tell you who my ex was, but… but… I wasn’t trying to hide it, there’s nothing to hide! I just…”

“Were you scared about how I would react?”

“I was embarrassed…” You sigh, holding his gaze in yours. “I figured you must know Ichiji, and he’s… well, he’s not the most wonderful person in the world… I just… it’s silly, but I was afraid you’d judge my choice.”

Law cups your cheek and smiles softly at you. “I understand why you avoided speaking about him. Hell, how could we know he would show up at my cousin’s wedding?”

“Your uncle came to me yesterday, saying he knew who I was and that, since I had dated Ichiji and now you, it was clear that I was only after money. He realised Ichiji was my ex, so he was definitely the one who brought him into the wedding.” You sigh again and clutch Law’s coat. “I should’ve told you yesterday, but we kept getting interrupted and then…” You blush slightly. “Then we got distracted, and Ichiji was nowhere near my mind.”

Law smirks and leans in, his mouth inches from yours. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I would never judge you, you know that. I know I’ve made poor choices in past relationships. What matters is what we have now. And neither my uncle nor fucking Vinsmoke Ichiji can ruin that.”

“Right.” You agree. 

“Right.” He takes your lips in his, and you sigh into the kiss. Just his touch is enough to calm the rest of your fears. “I got you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll speak with Baby 5 about you walking the aisle. There’s no need for you to accompany him.” That’s right! Realisation strikes you suddenly. He is probably the groomsman who had cancelled and showed up last-minute, and since you’re filling in for the bridesmaid, you’re the one supposed to accompany him.

“I…” You start, almost agreeing to Law’s suggestion. But then you remember Baby 5’s words and how excited she was about having the perfect wedding. She’s been so kind to you and welcoming. You don’t want to ruin her perfect day. “I can do it. I don’t want to ruin her day, Law. It’s just a walk.”

You’re trying to convince yourself more than you’re trying to convince him. And he immediately picks up on your uneasiness as his brow rises and that crease in his forehead makes its appearance. 

“You don’t have to do it.” The caress he lays on your cheek is gentle. “I’m the one who brought you to this wedding, your encounter with Ichiji is partially my fault. I really don’t want to put you through this if I can avoid it.”

His hand feels warm as you take it in yours with a - hopefully - encouraging smile. “Even if I could go back and do it all over again, knowing I would have to encounter Ichiji, I wouldn’t change a thing, Law. The time with you, our connection… I wouldn’t change it.”

The look of pure warmth he shows you is enough to set the kaleidoscope of butterflies that live in your stomach aflutter again. Will there ever be a time when you can tame them down? 

“I got this, Law. I do. I need to overcome my anxiety. Ichiji can’t hurt me anymore.” You try to sound sure, but just thinking about the task ahead churns your stomach in a very wrong way, nothing like the butterflies of earlier. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, a little skeptical, and you can see a flicker of something else in his eyes. From the way he’s gripping you, you’d risk it being just about him being overly protective. But you nod, and he sighs. “Okay, then. You know I trust you can do this. If you need support, keep your eyes on me. I’ll be there for you.”

You nod again in a reassuring way. It’s comforting to know he’ll always be there for you. 

-*-

You had breakfast with Law but barely ate, your stomach twisting and turning with uneasiness, even though Law kept trying to lighten the mood, to bring you out of your self-imposed funk. But you just wanted to get this ‘walking down the aisle’ business out of your mind. Besides, it was completely unfair for Law to be this worried about you. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you again at the door to Baby 5’s room, where you’re going to help her with the final preparations before you all go down to the tents. Law's voice is back to being cool and clipped, and the creasing between his brows has intensified. 

“I'll be alright, Law. It's just a walk. And you'll be there.”

He kisses your temple and caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Damn right, I will.”

You smile at him, and he parts with a lingering kiss on the lips. Damn, how are you supposed to last the rest of the day without proclaiming your love to him? 

“See you soon, sweetheart.” 

As you enter Baby 5’s room, you feel all the dread returning and weighing heavily on your chest. You can do this. It’s just a walk. 

Around half an hour later, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen are gathering outside the tent. There’s a pop song playing in the background, and your heart seems to be pounding at the same rhythm as the frenzied electronic tempo. The wedding planner asks the bridesmaids and the respective groomsmen to get into position, and the song turns to a slower one. 

“I know I've said it before, Doll, but you do look stunning.” You keep your eyes trained forward and focus on evening out your breaths. “But then again, you always did. Remember the dresses I used to buy for you? You left them all at our house.” 

Closing your eyes, you will your heart to beat normally. Slowly, regularly. Law. You need to focus on Law. 

Ichiji takes a step closer to you, and the scent of his cologne starts a spiral of bad memories. They all rush so hard and fast that you get dizzy and wobble on your feet. He reaches out and steadies your arm, his touch burning and searing through your bare flesh. 

With a hiss, you pull back your arm, silently thanking the wedding gods for placing you at the end of the entourage. “Touch me again, Ichiji, and I swear to God I will stab your hand with the cake knife.”

There. It sounded so cold and threatening that Law would be proud. But Ichiji just lets out an icy chuckle. 

“Feisty. There's the fire that made my loins burn.” His whisper is hot against your ear, and you will your eyes to remain glued to the first bridesmaid. She just entered the tent. “The fire that burned so hot until I tamed it down. Remember?”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Ichiji. We're done. The only reason I'm next to you is because I like and respect Baby 5. Otherwise, I would be nowhere near you.”

Another couple down the aisle. Almost there. Almost. 

“There are so many things you can't do by yourself, you need me. Trafalgar can't give you what I can.”

Third couple down the aisle. Almost, almost. You grit your teeth, refusing to answer more of his taunts. 

“You can't tell me that Trafalgar is better than me, right, Doll?”

Nope. Can't take it. 

“He is a hundred times better than you could ever aspire to be! He is kind, honest, good–...”

“That’s bullshit. You don’t need kind, Doll, you need firm, strong–..”

“Shut up, Ichiji. You never knew what I needed, never even made an effort to learn. We are done. I don’t want to speak with you anymore. Leave me alone!”

The fourth couple enters the tent, and sweat begins dampening your forehead. You can feel your heartbeat skyrocketing and your pulse quickening. One… breathe in. Two… breathe out.

“I’m willing to learn. I’ve changed.” As if! Three… breathe in. Four… breathe out. “I can’t stand to see you with someone else. When Donquixote called me and said you were dating his nephew… I trembled with rage.”

So it had been Doflamingo! Five… breathe in. Six… breathe out. Has the sun somehow turned brighter? Focus! You have to focus. Fifth couple in, you’re next. Seven… breathe in. Eight… breathe out. 

“You were mine once. You can be mine again.”

“Alright, cue. It’s your turn, go!” The wedding planner speaks to you and Ichiji. Nine… breathe in. Ten… breathe out. The tent flap opens up, and you immediately find Law. His eyes are already glued to yours, and as you let out a loud sigh, your heart rate resumes at a slower, more regular pace. 

Ichiji extends his arm for you to take, and you take another last inhale before giving him a look full of fire and fury. “You might’ve had my body, and you might’ve controlled me, but you never had all of me, and you never will. I will never be yours, Ichiji.”

You refuse his extended arm and start to walk down the aisle in time with the song, as per Baby 5’s request. Locking eyes with Law, you block everything around you. There’s only you and him. 

And nothing else matters.

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 14🔞|

[temiizpalace]

Hi! Can I request for Jamil and Azul prompt 14?

-☀️ anon

☆┊A PICNIC, FOR JUST THE TWO OF US! (🐍 vs. 🐙)

SUMMARY: GOING ON A PICNIC WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND! MAYBE A CONFESSION IS IN ORDE— WAIT, WHY DID YOU BRING HIM?!

CHARACTERS: jamil viper vs. azul ashengrotto

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy

NOTES: my favorite enemies get another request. awesome. thank you for your request!

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

a perfectly thought out plan.

azul had it all figured out. today will be the day he confesses to you. every small detail was planned and adjusted accordingly just so everything would run smoothly, he won’t mess up. sleepless nights went into this plot and for the love of the seven he won’t let them be in vain.

here’s how it’ll go in simple terms. first, he invites you to a small picnic by the beachside with his charm and persuasiveness. next, he escorts you like a gentleman and you both start having a lovely time. you’ll be impressed by his well cooked dishes and ask for the recipe. he calculated how likely that’ll be, and it’s pretty high considering he knows your favorite dishes. finally, asking for the recipe opens a window to his confession. he’ll ask you out on a cooking date, to which you’ll accept. oh yeah, it’s all smooth sailing from here.

just as he was about to look for you, the tweels were already a few steps ahead. “azul? you have a guest.” jade smiles, pushing you into the VIP lounge. “less of a guest and more of a hostage.” you grunt, obviously being forced here against your will. ouch. that lowers your mood by 8%! now there’s a chance you’ll reject his offer.. goodness.

“prefect, apologies for jade. i was going to look for you on my own, but..” he sighs, looking at the twin and signaling him to go outside. “if you’ll excuse me.” jade bows, shutting the door and waiting outside. “it’s fine, i know how they can be sometimes.” you laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “so, what’s up?”

this was it. okay, phase one here we go. “w-well you see,” azul stutters, internally cringing at his error. noooo.. he’s supposed to be charming! “i was wondering if you’d like to go on a picnic with me by the shore? i have a few dishes i’d like you to test, so..” he trails off, his cheeks tinted with a light pink. “picnic? that sounds fun!” you smile, making his heart flutter. focus.

“id love to go!” you accept, azul thanking the seven you can’t hear the wild screaming in his head. “splendid! i’ll see you later this afternoon.” he smiles, walking you out of the VIP lounge. “no rush, azul. i’ll see you then.” you waved back at him, the expression on your face leaving the words to hang at his mouth. he waves back slowly, shutting the door.

he flops onto the couch like a fish, burying his face into the pillows while aggressively kicking his feet. phase one is complete, yet he’s already so worked up! such a lovesick octopus. if he wasn’t so flustered, he could’ve heard the tweels giggling as they peeked through the crack of the door, photographing each second for future reference.

at last, the awaited moment has arrived. azul smoothens out the checkered blanket laid onto the sand, ensuring no wrinkles for maximum comfort. he readjusts the picnic basket to the perfect angle, satisfied with the setting he created. the tides were high, but not high enough to wash you two away. the weather was exactly as he predicted, boosting his confidence to further heights.

the excitement he experienced reached record highs, impatiently waiting for your arrival. he has to memorize this entire day, or he’ll regret it. can’t wait to write about it in his diary life record book later. he hears footsteps walk amongst the sand, whipping his head around to face its direction.

you were finally here! thank the seven! he was worried you forgot—huh. “azul! sorry for being late. i ran into jamil a little earlier and asked him to join us.” you happily state, so blissfully unaware of the spot the poor octomer was now put in. “azul.” jamil mutters, almost disgustedly. “jamil.. what a pleasant surprise this is.” azul responds, gritting his teeth.

nooooo.. any other day for this would’ve been great! why on his confession day? seriously?! “why, what inclined you to join us on our picnic this fine afternoon? shouldn’t you be babysit—ah, tending to kalim?” azul raised his brow, a small frown hidden on his face. “i was given permission to join the prefect during lunches. besides, seeing as they were going to meet you alone, i must ensure they don’t get themselves wrapped up in some shady deal.” jamil sighs, examining the setup azul had.

“awh, cmon. azul isn’t like that all the time, right?” you laugh, making both boys hearts sing for joy. “i can assure you i thought nothing of the sort! can’t a man enjoy lunch with a friend of theirs?” azul states dramatically, a false look of sadness on his face. “and i apologize, but i have not prepped enough food for 3, so i believe jamil must join us on the next picnic.” he shakes his head, trying to see if jamil gets the hint.

“don’t worry about me, i have prepped my own lunch.” jamil smirks, holding up a small bag. “it smells pretty good.. enough chatting let’s eat.” you grin, gingerly taking a seat onto the blanket and grabbing your utensils. jamil took a spot right next to you, a smug look on his face as he glares at the boy opposite of him. “wonderful..”

“azul! this is amazing! how did you manage to get the flavors like that?” you exclaim, already grabbing seconds. azul smiles triumphantly as you feasted like a king. he knew his cooking was good, and your compliments feed his ego. “ive taken a careful study at many recipes, and just so happened to enjoy this combination the most! i hope it is to your liking.”

jamil pouts as he eats his dish in silence, switching between glaring daggers at azul and looking at you with soft tenderness in his eyes. “hm? jamil, that looks pretty good. did you make that?” you ask, pointing to the dish in his hands. “ah, yes. a traditional dish from the scalding sands, a classic. care to try some?” he asks nonchalantly, holding his spoon up to your lips. “id love to!”

you take a bite of the food resting in the spoon, the taste catching you off guard. speechless. you were left speechless. “jamil, you genius in the kitchen.” you mutter, the flavors exploding in your mouth. he looks to azul, an tinge of annoyance in his gaze. such a motivational boost. “these were leftovers from last nights party. i can drop some off at ramshackle later if you’d like.” jamil offers, in which you eagerly accept. “really?! that’d be great! grim will be thrilled!”

eugh. azul hates this. he feels like a third wheel to his own date. so not fair. he prepped everything! your focus should be him! this is completely off script to what he had initially planned. date officially ruined. is this how jamil felt during his overblot too? horrible. just downright wretched. “azul, can i have the recipe to the dish you made? id like to try cooking it sometime.” you ask, snapping him from his daze. wait. this question.. this was something he predicted. okay, he’s got this. company or not, it’s showtime.

“why of course,” he replies happily, finding your joyful expression so attractive. “actually, i have a proposition. how about we cook this dish together, hm? that way, i can be of assistance and can ensure you positive results!” he smiles, offering you a “subtle” deal. “that sounds super fun! we should do that!” you accept, nodding your head vigorously.

“jamil, you can join us! you can show me how to make this dish if you do!” jamil shoots his head upwards at your offer, establishing his options before agreeing. “hmm.. we can use scarabia’s kirchen.. very well. i can make preparations right away.” he smiles, much to azul’s dismay. you’ve gotta be joking.

“this is gonna be so fun!” you chime, clapping your hands together. “lots.” azul adds sarcastically, moping as he poked at his meal. not again. he can’t believe he’s getting denied from his crush by a sea snake.

“try keeping up azul.” jamil whispers as they were packing up the picnicking stuff, his anger increasing substantially. just you wait, jamil. that prefect is his.

A/N: ladies ladies please one at a time (me to jamil and azul)

date published: 9/4/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[d3m0nicdream]

Pranksters Kiss: Colby Brock

**Colby's prank goes too far. He comes to apologise**

-Fem!Reader/Colby Brock-

tags: Fluff, kissing, touching. nothing too wild.

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

You couldn't believe it. You actually lost to Colby in the prank war at the expense of your favorite dress and now you've lost the bet. The chaos erupting through the room of drunk friends is deafening. You roll your eyes and walk out of the apartment, your hair and dress soaked in alcohol and your tears while the image of Colby's giant grin seethes you to the core. Sam frowns and runs after you.

"Y/N! Where are you going?" Sam grabs your arm as you storm off and you spin around to look at him. Tears threaten to fall as you try to compose yourself.

"He went too far. And you're just gonna let that slide?" You yell.

"There were no rules to the prank war, Y/N." Sam sighs.

"Whatever. I see you are just going to take his side." You take your leave, exiting the hall into your own apartment. The minute your door closes, you break down. You slide down to the floor, knees in chest and cry. After a few minutes, you hear your phone going off. It's Sam. You send him to voicemail. He calls again and you send him to voicemail. Eventually you silence your phone and go take a shower. You let the hot water trickle down your body, soothing your frazzled nerves and calming you down slightly. Sam was right. There were no rules to the prank war. Anything went, so of course Colby getting everyone to soak you over the head in buckets of sticky champagne wasn't off the table.

Soon enough your shower comes to an end. You walk out in your towel to pounding on your door, 23 missed calls and 14 texts from Sam. You check the peephole and see Colby's dark hair and without a doubt, you turn your deadbolt to locked. He thinks you unlock the door and tries to open it.

"Come on, Y/N. Let me in." You stay silent and walk away into your bedroom to get dressed. You roll out of the room in shorts and a T-Shirt that Colby gave you a long time ago. The pounding still persistent on your front door. You sigh and open it, cracking just enough to see him in front of you.

"What do you want, Brock?" You mumble through the door. His eyes snap to yours through the crack and he starts to speak.

"Come on. It was just a pra-" The door shuts with a click and you return the deadbolt back into its locking position.

"Y/N. Please. I'm sorry. I... I took it too far. I wasn't thinking. Can I please just... Let me in." You hear the defeat in his voice as he paces the hall in front of the door. You decide to let him in. He hears the locking mechanism move back into place and you open the door and walk away as he rushes in before you change your mind. He grabs your arm and forces you to stop walking.

"Y/N. I really am sorry. Please don't be mad at me." He pulls you into his body, wrapping his arms around you. The smell of his cologne mixed with the alcohol he had been drinking warms you up from the inside.

"It's okay, I guess." You return the favor and wrap your arms around his torso. You feel him place a small kiss on the top of your head and you guys start swaying back and forth as he rests his chin on your head after. You break the hug and his hands run down your arms to grab your hands. He kisses the back of your right hand and smiles at you.

You melt. That small gesture was enough to send you grabbing his face and pulling him to you, pressing your lips against his softly. You bodies pressing together. The minute you think about pulling away, He grabs your face in return and keeps the kiss going, this time a little bit more hungry and needy. You knew he might of been a little drunk so that's about as far as you let the activities go. If he wanted more from you, he'd have to win the next prank war.