#like i mean part of me must have known sobbing my eyes out for two hours every day over something not really real was an issue

[elytrafemme]

today's therapy session was really enlightening which is obviously good but it was enlightening in kind of a freaky degree because i just figured out that something i have been doing for like the entirety of my life isn't actually a common thing and is probably representative of something not working right in my unconscious? dude i thought i was on top of my psychological shit but then it turns out something i wrote off as being emotionally inconvenient but presumably regular actually might be worth its own series of sessions like. what the fuck man.

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part one)

Steve Rogers x f!Reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve is about to walk out of your life, causing you to let go of everything you two have, and everything that could be.

📝 yes, the title is inspired by Taylor Swift's upcoming song The Bolter. In my interpretation and in this story, it is meant to symbolize someone who runs from someone or something. A potential relationship. A loved one. And the choice is not easy, one that may bring a lot of remorse or catharsis? Anyhow - Steve IS a bolter. In the beginning, at least.

themes/warnings : language, angst!!!, pining, unrequited love, Steve is kind of an asshole for leaving (but we love him anyway)

word count : < 1k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ next chapter

This is it.

This must be what true heartbreak feels like.

Steve, your best friend and the unrequited love of your life, has decided to volunteer to return the Infinity Stones to their respective timelines. Very noble of him.

But he also confessed that he plans to stay with Peggy, now that he finally has the chance.

They can have the dance that was stolen from them, decades ago.

Steve can be with his true love it seems. And that person is just not you.

Well, fuck my life.

"Doll," he smiles ruefully, both of your hands encased in his, "say something."

Say something, he says. What is there to say - I'm in love with you, I want you to stay with me? Don't leave me? I want you stay - for Bucky, for Sam, for Nat. For everyone. For me?

What can you fucking say that will ever be enough? In the 7 years that you've known Steve, you've grown to love him. As a friend, as family. Then, almost inevitably, as the only keeper of your heart. And he knows this.

But he's still leaving. Because, at the end of the day, Peggy is the keeper of his heart.

To you, Steve has always been everything good. Golden boy perfection, with a heart that would put a saint's to shame. Sunshine, laughter, companionship, standing tall and unwavering in his ideals. His gleaming red, white, and blue tendrils snaking their way into the very fibres of your being and taking root.

But now, all you feel is empty. You were angry, when he first told you, days ago. You had almost screamed at him, told him how unfair he was being. You made a long, drawn-out case for Bucky. How he doesn't deserve this. But really, you were making a case for yourself.

Stay, you had said.

He simply smiled, without any mirth. Not like his usual on-brand Steve Rogers gesture of sincerity. He smiled and it did not reach his eyes. He was sad, or maybe he pitied you. And that made you even angrier.

Until minutes later, when you finally broke down, and sobbed quietly in his arms.

"I hate you," you muttered against the creases of his shirt.

"I love you," he said back, and you hated him even more for it. He doesn't get to say that to you, in that way. Not in the same way he would say to Peggy.

Now, right before stepping onto the platform that will cause him to vanish from your life, he says it again.

"You do know that I love you, right?" His smile is genuine, if not a little nervous. He hoped you would be as accepting as Bucky, and send him off with just a rueful look. A gentle, final word. A sweet farewell that he can take with him as a reminder of all the times you spent together.

"I know," you breathe, relenting. Steve does not like that your eyes are glazed over, empty. Like you're not taking him in at all. You take notice of the resulting sag in his shoulders, out of character from the dignified stride he sported as he was saying goodbye to the others.

A big part of you wants to remain indignant. So what if he's hurt or uncomfortable due to your coldness? It serves him right.

"Come here," he whispers, and it comes across a silent plea. Come here? Will you, please?

You take just one small step closer, but he is already ahead, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your stony mask breaks as your cheek presses against his chest, away from his view. His chest plate glistens from your tears, but you don't have it in you to wipe them away.

When he pulls away to look down at you, his heart breaks. He cradles your face in his hands as you look up at him through wet eyelashes, and it's almost enough to make him consider staying.

But then you say, "It will all be okay, Steve." You gingerly pry his hands from your cheeks, giving them a comforting squeeze. "We will be okay."

You look behind you, where Bucky stands watching the exchange, and he offers an encouraging nod.

You take a step back, mustering everything that you possibly can, all the love you have for Steve, to give him one last genuine smile.

"Go get your girl."

Read part two here.

The way I was making myself upset while writing this - god I love angst!!! ~~~

I was gonna keep going, make it even more brutal, but I'll save that for the upcoming parts. It will have some Bucky x reader as well 🖤

God Bless America('s ass).

oh, and let me know if you wish to be tagged!

[sleepsunawareof]

Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.

Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly

••••••••••••••

"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.

"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.

"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.

"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."

"Centuries?" you questioned.

"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"

You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."

"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."

"And what's that?"

"Me".

"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.

"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.

It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.

"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."

"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.

"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.

"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.

"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.

"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.

"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.

"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."

And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.

••••••••••••••

Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.

You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.

"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.

"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"

"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.

But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.

Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.

"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.

"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.

"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.

"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.

Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.

"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.

"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.

"For all time?" He asked.

"Always".

[marvelmusing]

Dark Depths

Part Two

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader (mermaid au)

Summary: After growing somewhat accustomed to your new life under the sea with Aleksander, the time to hunt the stag for your coat arrives, meaning you must make your return to land.

Warnings [18+]: smut, oral (fem receiving), mermaid to human transformation, mentions of injury and blood, Aleksander keeps the reader in the dark about a lot of things, unestablished dom/sub dynamic, some angsty vibes

My Masterlist • Part One

It doesn’t take long for Aleksander to find you, sitting in your usual spot on a rocky crag not far from the shore. The tail Aleksander had given you is a dull gold colour, the kind that changes depending on the lighting. Under the sea it shimmers like a treasure chest stuffed to the brim, but as you sit perched above the waterline your scales look muddy in the cold daylight.

Ever since you were a small child you’ve longed for the sea, and now your heart belongs to Aleksander, to the open ocean and all its wondrous creatures. But being born on land means that a fracture of your soul lingers there, a dull ache in your chest that refuses to be rid of so easily by Aleksander’s magic.

He settles beside you smoothly, wrapping his arms around your waist to console you. He kisses the salt streams on your cheeks, brushing his nose against your face affectionately.

“I know it hurts,” he murmurs.

A sob catches in your chest and you shake your head. There is no way he can know how deep your pain runs. Desperate for something to alleviate the discomfort, you begin to itch over your collarbones.

Aleksander curls his fingers around your wrist, halting your self-destructive actions. Unused to having such sharp nails, you hadn’t realised the scratches you had been leaving over your skin. He places his hand over your chest, smoothing soothingly over the irritated skin there.

“When I was born, Grisha lived on land,” he admits quietly.

Tears glistening in your eyes, you turn to face him.

“Like me?”

He nods slowly.

“My mother was an incredibly powerful witch with impossibly high standards for her children. In the time I spent with her, she abandoned five children.” He pauses, staring out towards the shore with a sombre expression. “I remember each of them.”

There’s a despondent glimmer in his dark eyes and you reach for his hand. He glances back at you, offering a brief smile that fades all too quickly.

“When I didn’t live up to her expectations, she cast me aside as well.”

“How old were you?”

He swallows hard.

“Thirteen.”

“Aleksander,” you whisper softly, squeezing his hand.

“I went searching for my sister after that.”

“Your sister?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of the sea witch that lives further north.” You nod. “Ulla took me in for a little while. She helped me with my tail.”

Considering this new information, you begin to fidget with the crystal on your necklace.

“The other Grisha call you a witch.”

He laughs softly.

“They do.”

“Why?”

“Grisha use their power through song. Their voices manipulate their specific sphere of power - whether that be fire or metal or blood. Those who don’t rely wholly on their song are considered witches.”

Aleksander has used his magic around you on several occasions. A simple flick of his fingers can summon tendrils of shadows - something he seems to do unknowingly when he’s lost in thought. Alina had sung to you when the two of you were children, making the sunlight dance with her enchanting melody.

“I’ve never heard you sing.”

Aleksander is quiet for a moment, his gaze lowered to the rock beneath you.

“Most Grisha sing in pairs with someone whose power complements their own. Harmony is important to us.”

“Complements?”

He nods slowly, leaving you guessing at what he means. Light would complement darkness; but you’ve only ever known one sun summoner - Alina. But surely he could have taken her for himself when she had made a deal with him for human legs. Instead, he had used her power to give you a tail with seemingly no benefits for himself.

The expression on your face must appear pained due to your confusion, as Aleksander kisses your forehead, tucking your head against his chest.

“It will get easier, once you have your coat. I promise.”

At the mention of your coat, you perk up a little.

“When will we start looking for the stag?”

“Soon.”

“But when is soon?”

He breathes out a small laugh at your enthusiasm.

“When the first flakes of snow fall over the land.” You nod. Aleksander’s touch is delicate as he strokes your cheek, keeping your attention on him instead of the shoreline. “How are you feeling today?” he asks softly.

A small crease appears between your brows.

“Better. My tail doesn’t hurt anymore. But…” Heat blossoms over your cheeks as you trace your fingers over your abdomen. “There’s a strange ache here.”

He hums absently.

“Swimming in your ocean form will require your muscles to stretch in an unfamiliar manner. You will grow accustomed to it.”

Unconvinced by his explanation, you bite down on your lower lip, dragging it between your teeth. There are plenty of other places on your body that feel sensitive as of late.

“Are there muscles here as well?” you ask shyly, gesturing to your chest.

Aleksander’s gaze sharpens, examining you intently.

“May I take a look?”

Nervously, you glance around at the open sea and the nearby shoreline, searching for anyone who could see you in such an exposing position.

“Here?”

“No one can see us.”

Hesitantly, you reach for the coarse piece of string holding the fabric together over your chest. Aleksander had fashioned it for you, though he had also explained that most merfolk only wear jewellery and their coats. Aleksander himself always wears a belt, with his pouch and knife attached to his hip and a small scrap of cloth covering a portion of his pelvis.

The fabric covering your top half is still damp from your time in the sea and it clings to your body. Aleksander removes it slowly, revealing your bare body to him. Instantly, your nipples harden from the cold, salty air. As always, his hands are warm and you shudder when he cups your tender breasts.

He gives you a gentle squeeze, drawing a weak sound from the back of your throat. He then begins to roll your nipples between the pads of his fingertips, alleviating some of the pressure beneath your skin. A soft moan escapes your lips and your eyes flutter closed momentarily.

Aleksander glances down, a smirk tugging at his lips. When you follow his gaze, you find your lap glossy with a thick wetness, though you struggle to find where it has come from.

“There is nothing you need to worry about,” he assures you. “Merfolk reach maturity at around your current human age; your body is simply preparing for your mate.”

There’s a haze clouding over your mind, his words wading through fog and your thoughts scramble for comprehension. Slowly, you blink at him, staring at the lean muscle of his stomach and tail, the thick hair over his jawline, his pink nipples, and strong hands. He’s so beautiful, it makes you ache.

“How do merfolk mate?” you manage to ask him.

He smiles widely, cradling your face between his hands and for a moment you think he’s going to drag you back down to his cave and show you. Instead, he kisses your forehead gently.

“Not yet, darling. I’ll show you, in time.”

»»---------------------►

When the snow begins to fall on land, Aleksander instructs you to wait in the shallows for him. Nervously, you bob your head above the waterline, eyes scouring over the shore for any sight of him. Being parted from him makes you uneasy. It isn’t long before you see a strong black horse galloping over the sand with Aleksander sat astride.

He looks like a king. The thick black fur of his coat is piled up over his shoulders, the adjoined cloak billowing behind him in the wind. He’s attained human clothes: polished black riding boots, dark trousers, and a fine woollen jacket. The image of him makes your stomach flip and you swim closer to the shore, eager to join him.

Aleksander dismounts smoothly, striding towards the water as you flail with your tail, struggling to change into your human form as quickly as you’ve seen him do it. He wades into the shallows, scattering sea spray as he scoops you up easily and carries you out onto the sand. He kisses your temple as he lowers you to the ground.

“I’m going to take your necklace,” he tells you.

Instantly, your hand closes protectively around the gem hanging between your breasts, clutching it tightly.

“Why?”

“The power in the crystal is what gave you your tail. While wearing it, you won’t be able to change back into your human form.”

Aleksander had given you this necklace when you were still human. The power inside had belonged to your childhood friend Alina, traded to Aleksander so that she could become human. It feels wrong to give it up, even temporarily. He notices your hesitation, curling his fingers gently around your wrist.

“I’ll take good care of it. I promise.”

When you nod, he unclasps the back of the chain, removing it from around your neck. He places it on himself, the shimmering yellow gem nestling perfectly at the hollow of his throat. Aleksander watches you intently and you frown, eyes wide with confusion as you search his expression for any clue on what is supposed to happen.

Then it happens.

It feels as if someone has sliced through your tail, carving a sharp blade deep into the muscle and bone that are now shifting back into legs that you can’t bear to look at. The sight of them, thighs and calves and toes, so sickeningly human, makes you cry against Aleksander. You don’t want them. You want your tail back. Hot tears spill down your cheeks, the salty droplets a poor imitation of the sea that is now your home. It hurts.

Aleksander’s voice is a near whisper, but it somehow manages to cut through your anguish.

“Let’s clean you up a little.”

The wounds have closed, but the blood remains sticky on your legs. As Aleksander moves you over to the water, the sand grates against your sensitive skin. Everything is too much all at once. The muscles in your legs twitch painfully, protesting against their existence. A weak sob shakes your body as Aleksander scoops up a handful of water, pouring it carefully over your legs to clear away the blood.

“Just focus on one thing at a time,” he suggests in a low murmur. “The water’s cold, isn’t it?” A small hum of agreement catches in the back of your throat, as you bury your face further into his chest. “How does the sand feel?”

“Itchy,” you mumble petulantly.

He breathes out a soft laugh.

“And how do I feel?”

“Warm. Safe.”

He kisses the crown of your head.

“I’ll always keep you safe, my little starfish.”

That draws a weak laugh from you.

“Starfish?”

He hums in agreement, offering you a small smile.

“A delicate little thing, but very hard to break.”

Emotion sticks in your throat at the sincerity of his words.

Walking is awful. Each step feels like a knife is piercing through the sole of your foot. Every breath is accompanied by a sob. Aleksander keeps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly beside him as your teeth chatter. When your tears turn pitiful, he hooks his arm beneath your knees, opting to carry you to his horse.

“It will get better,” he assures you, pressing a faint kiss to your hairline before he lifts you up into the saddle.

»»---------------------►

Aleksander wakes before you, slipping out of the small bedroom he had rented at a local tavern. He returns with a tray full of breakfast, rousing you from your slumber as he removes his boots.

He slips his arm around your waist, draping his body over yours as he pulls your back against his chest. His palms are warm and firm as they run over your bare body. He leaves a trail of slow, lingering kisses along the length of your neck before murmuring against your ear,

“The men downstairs are whispering. They think the mysterious traveller has caught himself a mermaid.”

“They aren’t wrong,” you mumble into your pillow.

Aleksander smiles against your skin.

“But you weren’t a mermaid when I caught you, were you?”

Unable to fight your smile, you squeeze your pillow, nestling yourself further under the sheets.

“No.”

His smile widens. There’s a pause as the two of you soak up this moment, soft sunlight filtering its way through the thin curtains as you stretch lightly, reaching for your pillow and tucking it against your chest. Aleksander presses a tender kiss to the space between your shoulder blades.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

His question brings your attention back to your body, the aches and pains and the terrible sense of loss that hums inside you.

“Like someone’s hollowed out my heart.”

He kisses your temple softly, sliding his hand beneath you to place his hand over your chest.

“Your heart is right here. Even I can’t take that from you.”

Aleksander gives your body one final affectionate squeeze, before he sits up.

“I think you could,” you whisper.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he reaches for the tray of food, breaking up a crust of bread to feed to you in small portions. The action makes your stomach flip, reminding you of your first few days under the sea, when Aleksander had fed you by hand because you were too weak to do it yourself.

Settling yourself back against the rickety headboard, you bunch up the covers, drawing them up to your chest to shield yourself from the morning chill. Aleksander holds a piece of bread up to your lips, ignoring the heat burning over your face.

“I can feed myself,” you protest quietly. The words come out softer than you intended, weakened mostly by the indulgent smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

“It’s my duty to provide for you.” He pinches your chin lightly between his fingers, a darkness glimmering in his eyes. “Humour me.”

When you take the bread into your mouth, his smile widens and your body is molten hot, your breathing deep and heavy as he looks at you, gaze unwavering. He feeds you the entire slice, piece by piece, praising you the entire time.

Once you’ve finished, he brushes his knuckles over your cheek, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

“You seem warm, milaya.”

He tugs the covers back, revealing your naked body to him. Instantly, you clasp your legs together tightly and he chuckles.

“Shall we check that the change was successful?” he asks, mischief dancing in his eyes as he curls his fingers around one ankle. With the attention of the room being brought onto your legs, embarrassment crawls over your skin.

“Don’t,” you say quickly, before adding in a small whimper, “Please.”

Aleksander stares up at you, his dark eyes flickering over every inch of your expression and you feel frightfully vulnerable, as if he can see every thought rushing through your mind. He pushes at your ankle slowly, bending your limb so that your foot is placed flat on the bed.

“I know you don’t think much of your human form,” he says in a low voice. “But tail or legs, you are beautiful.” He presses the barest hint of a kiss to your calf and you shudder. “Can I show you?”

He continues his kisses, mapping a path slowly upwards from your ankle. Breathlessly, you squirm beneath him.

“It isn’t mating season yet,” you state.

He grins.

“No it isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t kiss every inch of your body, does it?”

His lips are warm and firm as he kisses over your calves, parting your legs with ease. His fingers rub soothing circles over your tense muscles, doing everything he can to alleviate the aches and pains that linger after your transformation. Emotion catches in your throat, tears gathering in your eyes as his mouth reaches your knees.

“Aleksander,” you cry. “Please.”

The rough scrape of his beard is delightful against the soft skin of your thighs and you whine as he spreads your legs even further apart. His teeth drag lightly over the flesh of your inner thigh in a playful bite and you tip your head backwards against the headboard.

He hums quietly. His nose brushes against your mound and you whimper. He tilts his head, clicking his tongue at the sight of the mess between your thighs. A jolt of pleasure jitters down your spine. Arching your back away from the mattress, you throw one hand back to gasp at the headboard. The other hand sinks into Aleksander’s dark locks, fisting the hair tightly as you cling to him.

He glances up at you, his lips parted, and you feel as though you might come undone just by looking at him, imagining his lips against your cunt. His gaze is deliberate as it moves down your body, so weighty you can almost feel it over your skin like a caress. When his eyes lock onto your cunt, you squirm lightly, heat burning across your cheeks in an inferno.

“May I kiss you here?” he asks in a whisper.

You nod fervently and he grins darkly.

“Come now, little starfish. I would like a proper answer.”

“Yes, please. Please kiss me there.”

His lips are so gentle, the barest hint of a kiss as his mouth brushes against the soaked folds of your cunt. A breathy whimper escapes you as the tip of his tongue parts your folds, revealing your weeping cunt to him fully.

Neither one of you want to break this moment, barely able to raise your voices to anything above a low whisper.

“Aleksander,” you say, voice cracking.

“Both hands on the headboard,” he orders in a murmur.

Just the action of obeying him, settling both of your hands on the headboard above you, bearing your body to him in total submission, has you teetering on the edge of what you think might be your climax. It’s been so long since you’ve touched yourself - even longer since someone else has touched you - the idea of an orgasm feels elusive. Yet something violently pleasurable is creeping its way closer.

The motion of his tongue is addictive, a dizzying circle that traces around your sensitive clit. The little bud is swollen and throbbing, every pulse makes you more and more desperate for him.

A tear slips down your cheek as you say his name. His tongue strokes leisurely against your cunt, lapping up the arousal that has gathered from teasing your clit. The moan that rumbles in the back of his throat makes you quiver. It’s mortifying, being so affected by the sound of him.

“I’m close,” you admit.

A weak sob of pleasure and shame threatens to choke you at the thought of being so wanton. Aleksander places his palm over your stomach, a warm and comforting pressure that soaks into your skin even as he pins you down. His tongue licks over your cunt for several beats before he lifts his head from between your thighs. Arousal glosses over his lips and you clench around nothing, breathless at the sight.

“Relax, darling.” He slips his hands beneath you, kneading your ass cheeks purposefully. A sharp groan is dragged out of you as he grasps at the tender flesh. “You’ve been holding all of this inside you for far too long. Now it’s time to let go.”

There’s a roaring in your ears, drowning out every sensation that isn’t the clenching of your cunt as Aleksander suckles greedily on your sensitive clit, his bottom lip grazing against your quivering entrance. The rush of your release smears over his mouth and chin, making a thorough mess of him. Pleasure has stars sparkling over your vision, your limbs tingling with a heady bliss.

Time slips away from you, passing by unnoticed with each heavy breath you take. The world is small, narrowed down to the satisfied weight of your limbs against the mattress. It takes you quite some time to realise you’ve been staring up at the ceiling.

Shakily, you turn onto your side, wide eyes searching frantically for Aleksander. Once you find him beside you, dark eyes warm and safe, the tension in your chest snaps and you burst into tears. Instantly, he pulls you onto him, allowing you to cry against his bare chest.

“It’s alright, darling,” he assures you in a low voice. The sound vibrates in his chest, buzzing against your ear. “I’m so proud of you; you did so well.” He strokes his fingers along your spine, drawing shapes on his way down. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. My brave little starfish.”

He kisses your forehead, nuzzling his nose affectionately against your hairline as his words warm in your chest.

“You should find walking a lot easier now.”

You blink at him, a tear slipping down your cheek as you start to realise something that makes your heart twist.

“Is that why we did this… to make it easier for me to walk?”

He takes a hold of your chin firmly, keeping your eyes locked on his.

“We did this because you are mine, and I refuse to condone you feeling bad about any part of yourself.”

Unable to stop yourself, you climb up his body, straddling his waist as you press your lips against his. He responds instantly, cupping your face with both hands to deepen the kiss. As you grip onto his hair, Aleksander leans forwards to meet you, lowering his hands to squeeze at your calves.

This time, there’s no sense of unease as he touches your legs and you smile into the kiss as his hands wander up your thighs to grasp at your waist, pulling you flush against him. Aleksander smiles as well, tracing his touches up your body.

“We should be heading on our way.” A pout puckers at your lips and he chuckles. “The sooner we find the stag, the sooner we can go home.”

Home with Aleksander. That makes you smile.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow

[dat-town]

yours truly

Characters: fate!Sunghoon (prince of hearts) & mortal!female reader

Setting & genre: caravalverse au, fantasy, forbidden romance

Summary: “... ballads don’t end happily, and neither do the two of us.” ‒ Stephanie Garber

Warnings: Sunghoon’s character is canon-typically mean and flirty in the beginning, blood, dagger and arrow-caused injuries, mentions of people dying, ambiguous ending

Words: 2.9k

Playlist: moonstruck, criminal love, fatal trouble, still monster, lucifer, fate

Author’s note: for those who haven’t read the books, just imagine a world where deity-like creatures called fates walk among mere humans; for those who did read the books, imagine this as an alternative for the plot, the worldbuilding is the same but the actual romance plays out different since Sunghoon is NOT Jacks, just a different Prince of Hearts. i know personality-wise it’s very not Sunghoon-like but i chose him for visual reasons #theplot

for @restlessmaknae because you worked hard and i believe that you will see its results <3

The Prince of Hearts was exactly how the stories described him: devastatingly handsome and infuriatingly wicked.

The first time you met him, he just broke a naive girl’s heart.

The Prince of Hearts was the hopeless lovers’ Fate. Many turned to him to fulfill their hearts’ desire or get revenge on their unfaithful significant other but there was a reason why he had always been portrayed with bloody tears running down his sculpture-like face and his perfect lips pulled up in a cunning smirk.

“What did you do?” You heard the girl’s trembling, frightened cry over the garden fountain’s lovely bubbling sound and you could tell she didn’t notice you on the other side of the installment. She must have dragged the young man out of the celebration to have a word with him privately. Too bad it was your hiding place.

“Exactly what you asked from me. I made sure he can never look at another girl again,” the man replied in a silky smooth voice, his tone almost melodic. He must have sung lovely lullabies, you thought, but then he continued and his voice turned something dark, something poisoned and sickly amused. “Or at anything for that matter.”

There was a cruel laugh carried by the night breeze and your eyes widened, thoughts running wild.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” the girl protested weakly between sobs but no use, it didn’t seem to affect the man at all.

“Isn’t it? Then you should have asked more… precisely,” he scoffed and with a rustle of clothes you could tell he turned around, ready to leave.

“But… but I kept my side of the bargain. You are a Fate, you should keep your word, too!”

You sucked in a breath because you didn’t have to guess much to know which Fate she was talking about. There was an infamous one for broken hearts.

“Are you seriously accusing me of not fulfilling my part?” The Prince of Hearts spoke up again and this time you could hear anger bubbling up beneath the boredom in his tone. He spoke quietly yet every word of his punctured like bites of a viper. “You wanted your lover to not look at other girls, so I took his sight. Would you have preferred if I plunked his eyeballs out? Or even better, if I simply killed him? Is that it?”

The girl’s crying turned pathetic and you almost felt bad for her even if she should have known better than to make a deal like that. Fates tended to take more than what they had promised.

“Look at you, a sobbing mess. Is your great love really only enough for this? Will you leave him now that he’s blind? Who’s the unfaithful one now?” The ageless creature tsked, his harsh words enough to make the girl run, crying and devastated. The air was once again filled with silence and crickets chirping. Out of curiosity, you quietly stood up from where you sat in the fountain’s shadow but you could see nobody on the other side of the monument. You let out a small sigh, turning back around only to gasp in surprise.

Right in front of you, barely an arm-length away was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He had porcelain skin and elegant features, artfully tousled raven black hair and almond shaped eyes reflecting the moon. His mouth was pulled into a lopsided smile as he leaned closer, resting his hand on the fountain’s rim beside your waist.

“You know, I can hear your heartbeat, love,” he said, syrupy sweet, and you had to deliberately remind yourself to breathe properly. “It beats rapidly like a trapped bird’s wings. Is it because of fear or attraction? Both?” The Fate arched a brow, provoking.

“I’m not playing your game,” you raised your chin with more confidence that you actually felt in yourself but you didn’t back down, not even when the young man’s eyes burned through you.

“Too bad. I didn’t even tell you the rules yet,” he pouted but he seemed more amused than anything else.

“Are all Fates this bored?”

“There’s a better question, love; are all Fates forgiving towards this blunt attitude of yours?” The Prince of Hearts raised a brow, challenging, his breath fanning over your cheek, his closeness painting it a rosy color. There was something predatory in the way he looked at you and your rabbit of a heart wished nothing but to run. Then he abruptly pulled away, his frown melting into an all too sweet smile.  “But see, I’m a gentleman and I will let it go. For now.”

The threat was clear in his velvet voice and the shine of his midnight dark eyes. It took your breath away and you only let out the air you were holding in when he walked out of sight, your heart still beating crazily as you watched him disappear like smoke in the dark.

The next time you met him, you were smarter than to walk into his trap. This time you were actually looking for him because you were about to do what you had never imagined yourself to: gamble for a Fate’s help.

But really, this was your last resort. No matter how many reasons and proofs you had listed, your best friend was dead set on marrying a duke with no land and no morals. He just wanted her for her family’s money but she didn’t believe you. She even told you that if you weren’t happy for her, you weren’t welcome at the wedding. So you had to make sure the wedding didn’t happen, that she realized that her fiancé was a selfish bastard. It was the perfect kind of job for the Prince of Hearts since he seemed to hate other people’s happiness. No wonder even his Destiny Deck card’s meaning was unrequited love and irrevocable mistakes.

As you opened the church's gate, your sister’s voice echoed in your ears. She had told you not to make deals with Fates but if you must, always make sure to double guess the meaning behind their words and not let them have leverage over you. She had known after having her own deal with the Jester Mad. Fates weren’t evil nor saints but as ageless deities, they had different moral compasses than mere mortals. They also lived a long, long life, so what could have been more fun for them than playing with human feelings?

Back in the days, Fates had been private creatures hidden from plain sight. People had built churches and altars for them, waiting for their miracles to happen. But then one day, the Fates disappeared. Nobody knew why or where. There were countless rumors but it didn’t matter because eventually they returned and they weren’t hiding anymore. The Poisonmaker kept wreaking havoc at events where drinking was involved, the Maiden Death started warning people about their loved ones’ dying in the middle of the main square and the Prince of Hearts had heads turning at every noble gathering pretty much in the entire country based on the rumors. Whispers followed his trail, so you knew exactly where to find him.

“Looks like wind blew a little birdie my way,” you heard the familiar smooth voice from behind you once you dropped your golden coins into the well inside the old marble church. You spun around, facing the Fate and you hated the instant effect he had on you. The way his mere presence was enough to weaken you. You tried focusing on the tiniest details on his face to keep yourself grounded like the moles adorning his cheeks, his defined eyebrows or the way the skin around his pretty eyes wrinkled when his mouth pulled into an amused smile. Your heart was a traitor once again.

“Missed me?” He teased, further decreasing the distance between you. He didn’t even touch you yet his closeness set the air around you on fire and you desperately tried to find purchase on the edge of the well, your well kept nails digging into the stone.

“I have a favor to ask,” you forced out and recited the entire monologue you had practiced with all the details in order to make sure there was no loophole in your request. You couldn’t have your best friend getting hurt because of you. You just wanted to get rid of her fiancé subtly. So you came prepared and judging by the almost impressed look on the Fate’s face and the pondering tilt of his head, he must have noticed too.

“Oh, you’re actually a smart one,” he mused out loud, a chuckle escaping him. “It sounds exactly like my kind of fun but you don’t think I’m doing it without a price, right? So are you ready to pay, love?”

You expected it, of course, there was always a price to pay. A bargain with both parties committing to something. You thought you were ready for anything the Prince of Hearts could ask of you: your reputation tarnished, memories of your first love destroyed, cursing you to never love again but maybe you were naive. Because in that moment he looked at you hungrily, eyes dark and tempting. He darted out his tongue, wetting his lips as he angled his face over yours, still not even grazing against your skin, yet you could feel yourself shiver.

For a moment you were sure he would kiss you. That he would kill you.

Because the thing with Fates was that all of them were cursed in one way or another. As for the Prince of Hearts, his kiss was fatal to all but his one true love. They said it was worth dying for and so many naive girls wanted to be the one to break this hex, he left a trail of corpses behind him.

“Not yet, love,” the Fate taunted as he swiped his thumb across your lower lip, leaving tingles behind, and you felt incredibly embarrassed for thinking he would actually kiss you. Gosh, you weren’t normally like this.

“What do you want?” You found your voice after pushing the silently laughing man away from you. You needed space, you needed to focus. You came to save your best friend’s future, not to kiss murderers no matter how much they erupted a garden of butterflies in your stomach.

“Let me be your plus one for the wedding and I promise to make sure your precious friend realizes her mistake before tying the knot. No bodily harm, no future consequences, yadda yadda,” the Prince of Hearts mocked your way of negotiating your conditions and you squinted your eyes because it sounded too good to be true.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he flashed you a charming smile before leaning in close again, this time his breath fanning over your ears, teeth grazing against your skin, leaving goosebumps behind. “Oh and call me Sunghoon.”

The Prince of Hearts kept his word and you started to wonder whether he wanted to accompany you to the wedding because he wanted to see the drama he caused in person. He seemed rather amused when both the duke’s creditors and mistresses showed up and your best friend threw a vase at him.

It was naive of you to think so though, of course the Fate came on his own accord for his own ulterior motives. You didn’t even know that the infamous Witch of North, holder of the Fated object of the Unbitten Fruit, would be at the wedding but Sunghoon sure knew. He disappeared from sight in the middle of the chaos and you could only find him after calming your best friend down. The wedding hall was empty and broken into pieces and in the middle of it all, surrounded by blackened rose petals, there he laid like a beautiful fallen angel. His white shirt was snug over his broad shoulders and where his wings would have laid, blood spread like wine on tragic days.

“Oh my fates,” you mumbled as you rushed to his side.

Fates had once been immortals but even since their re-appearance, they were merely ageless and could be killed and while you shouldn’t have cared, something didn’t let you let him bleed out. Maybe it was because he just helped your friend like he had promised or because you had always been weak for the helpless ones even if the Fate was nothing but one.

“What happened?” You asked with trembling lips, pressing a torn piece of your skirt onto the bleeding wound on his side.

“Somebody wasn’t too happy that I said hello,” Sunghoon croaked a smile, still all too arrogant even with blood on his lips and pain on his features when his own laughter made him hiss.

“Do you have many enemies?”

“Enemies is all I have,” he said, reaching for the buttons of his blood-soaked shirt to get rid of it and you could feel your face flush at the sudden exposure of bare skin and toned stomach. But trust the Prince of Hearts to tease you even in his stabbed state. “No need to be so shy, love, you can look.”

You cleared your throat and hardened your gaze, looking him in the eye, unwavering. You accidentally applied a bit more pressure on his injury though because his face suddenly distorted in agony.

“Actually, there’s a vial in my front pocket. Would you be kind enough to pour its content on the wound?” He spoke up again, softer, a bit of breathlessness in his usually smooth voice and if it wasn’t for that, you would have believed he was still teasing.

But you actually found a potion in his pocket and once the liquid contacted his torn skin, it started healing at an amazing speed. Oh, so he came prepared, you realized and it made you smack his chest hard. He made you worry for nothing. So stupid of you.

Sunghoon caught your wrist and pulled it over his unbeaten heart, laughing at you. You should have been angry and yet, it was the most beautiful chime of bells you had ever heard.

That should have been the last time you saw the Prince of Hearts but he kept showing up. He kept bothering you at balls, scaring away suitors, stealing apples at the market you had to pay for. He found your reluctance and annoyance amusing, poking fun at the way your heartbeat spiked in his company. He put flowers in your hair, called you love like he meant it and touched you briefly only to make you crave more. You thought it was all just a joke for him because he was bored and you weren’t as easy as the other girls but then you were bleeding out and he looked ready to burn the whole world down.

It was a typical case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You were just in the way. It wasn’t meant for you but the arrow pierced through your chest nevertheless.

You coughed up blood, barely catching your breath, when Sunghoon caught you in his arms before you could have fallen onto the flower bed beneath. Deliriously you looked up at him in wonder, at Death’s most beautiful angel. 

“You’re not dying,” he told you through gritted teeth but his voice was torn, feelings you didn’t recognise scratching the surface.

“They say you can’t feel, not because you have no heart but because it stopped beating long ago. Is it true?” You forced out weakly as you put a hand over Sunghoon’s chest just over where his heart was still as always. “I wonder what kind of girl it was, the one who broke your heart.”

All Fates were humans once and their assigned traits and powers were aligned with how they had been once as mortals. It was silly but you couldn’t help being jealous of the girl who had once held his affection because the way he looked at you then made you feel like nothing else mattered to him but you.

You knew that Fates felt everything in extremes. They didn’t hold grudges, they took revenge. They didn’t know love, they only knew obsession. Yet so many made the mistake of falling in love with a Fate and you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame them. Not anymore. Not when the Prince of Hearts’ hands were stained with your blood but you wanted nothing more than to succumb to this overwhelming feeling of being held by him.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, feeling faint. You were dying anyways, it couldn’t have hurt more to try. Because what if it was true, what if true love’s kiss could cure all curses, what if he had been looking for you all this time?

“Love…” Sunghoon’s voice was ruined. It was just a word yet a plea at the same time. A simple word you associated with your name ever since you had first met him.

His eyes shining like bright stars in the night sky were the last thing you saw before your eyelids fluttered close. Tears streamed down your face or blood, you couldn’t tell, but the lips on yours tasted metallic like iron and the sweet taste of the forbidden fruit. Like sin and redemption at the same time. Like you were his in this fairytale and he was yours. Yours truly.

[looneyleyle]

hogwarts corridors ~ g. weasley

synopsis: a classic strangers to something more, through the art of baring one's soul to someone they barely know. as they say, trauma bonding is the best bonding.

warnings: not proofread but that's to be expected

word count: 2733 words

ramona elwine's pov

fifth floor, just past the prefect's bathroom. i knew how to get there with my eyes closed after downing a dizziness draught. it was the best place in the castle to cry. very few were up there, just the occasional prefect, and they would never venture any further than the bathrooms. peeves usually left that part of the castle alone, never wanting to run into the tattle tale prefects. it was silent apart from the occasional birds and owls, but they never caused too much of a disruption.

what was a disruption to the peaceful crying spot, however, were two boys i liked to call tweedle dee and tweedle dumbass. george and fred weasley, respectively. for some reason, the two were nearly always up there, doing merlin knows what. i always heard their obnoxious voices and loud guffawing, though i was fortunate enough to never see them.

that is, i never saw them until one fateful night.

i was with chase sutton at the time. when i first met the boy, he was kind and charming, nothing like the rest of his slytherin comrades. he sat down next to me one morning for potions, and the rest was history.

over the months (two months and four days, to be exact), he slowly became colder and more disinterested. i didn't mind too much at first, the professors were loading us up with work and preparation for newts. i figured he was just busy.

i had known of the quiet corridor on the fifth floor for years, i discovered it as a lost little first year who was trying to find the library. for the longest time i kept away from it, only going there in the most stressful of times, in order to collect my thoughts.

and yet, after i saw chase and joan burgess sneaking into a broom cupboard with their hands interlinked, i found solace in the quiet of that little corridor on the fifth floor.

and naturally, as sobs shook through my body, a blurry ginger blob just had to appear.

"merlin, are you alright?" the blob asked.

"peachy." i glared, trying to blink away the tears to see which twin was in front of me. not that it would help, the two were identical and i knew nothing about them that could set them apart.

instead of taking the obvious hint that i did not want company, the blob sat down next to me.

"you're the girl that was dating that tosser sutton?" he asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

"what do you mean by 'was'?"

"well, if the way his tongue was just down that hufflepuff's throat was any indicator, i'd say it's pretty safe to assume so. unless you have an open relationship, which i must say is a bit hot."

the information sent another wave of red-hot tears down my face. the ginger blob began to mutter apologies, squirming around uncomfortably.

"sorry, not the time." he mumbled. his arm then raised awkwardly, as if to put a grounding hand on my back. the icy glare i sent him was enough to have his hand back in his lap, tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, that hufflepuff doesn't hold a candle to you, and sutton is just a grimy little snake like the rest of them." his comment cause the smallest of smiles to spread on my face.

my tears eventually slowed, the ginger still next to me for merlin knows what reason. at one point, he started blabbering on about some prank he pulled with his twin fred, and the only thing i took out of his nonsensical rambling was that this was george sitting next to me. he eventually looked over and stopped talking, noticing the tear paths drying on my face.

"thank you for staying with me through this."

"of course. i couldn't leave a lady here all alone while in distress." he told me, standing up and dusting off his pants.

"i'm ramona by the way. ramona elwine." i said as he started backing up.

"i know." he said, the makings of a smirk twitching in his lips. and with that, the ginger was out of sight.

a week or so went by before our next encounter. i had officially dumped sutton (in the privacy of an empty classroom, much to the chagrin of my friends, who wanted a public accusation in the great hall). classes were going well, in fact, everything was splendid. things were not splendid, however, for my friend autumn taylor, who had just received the nastiest howler from her parents over an "acceptable" in transfiguration. in the middle of the packed common room, no less. her tears were growing rapidly in her eyes, and i knew where to take her to get her out of the spotlight.

when we got to the corridor, a pensive looking weasley was there, perched up by the window. at the sounds of my friend's sobs, he turned around, a smile on his face until he noticed the distress.

"ramona? is something wrong?" he asked. at the use of my first name, autumn sent me a quizzical look that i knew i would have to respond to later. for the moment, though, i focused on getting george out of here.

"everything is fine george, though we need this corridor."

"of course, of course. always a pleasure ramona, taylor." he nodded, walking away.

"first name basis with a weasley twin? spill."

i was back in the corridor the very next day, looking for autumn's hair clip. why i was there and she wasn't, i had no clue. something about detention with flitwick for merlin knows what reason.

when i rounded the corner, i couldn't even say that i was surprised to see that familiar ginger there, looking out the window, the same pensive look on his face as the day before.

"something must really be boggling you for you to be thinking this hard two days in a row." i started, getting his attention. he looked over and smiled, shaking his thoughts out of his head.

"i see you're alone this time. no crying companion." he commented, moving his body to face me and patting the seat next to him. i sat down next to him, and upon closer inspection, the worry lines were still etched into his forehead, and his smile didn't fully reach his eyes.

"you're dodging the subject at hand." i told him with a pointed glare and a playful shrug of the shoulder. he bumped into me in retaliation and looked ahead of us, surely avoiding my stare. he replied to me with some sort of bullshit, mumbling something along the lines of "'s nothing."

"don't lie to me weasley, you were here the other night too, what's going on?" his hand went over his chest at my comment.

"back to weasley? ouch ramona, i thought we were closer than that"

"maybe if you would tell me what's going on, i wouldn't resort to such formalities." i continued. i didn't know why i was prying so much, why i cared so deeply about whatever was plaguing his mind. he was just someone i've had a few chance encounters with, nothing more. at least, that's what i told myself.

george sighed, took a deep breath, opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated this on and on until he finally slumped down, looking at the floor.

"fred and i have this business going." he started, taking a final deep breath to collect his thoughts. "it's great. more than great, it's brilliant, really. it's what we're good at. making people laugh, helping them cause a bit of trouble." another sigh. "mum doesn't see it that way. she's been trying to get us to stop for ages, confiscating products, sending howlers, threatening to pull us out of hogwarts. i just- i just worry that we've pushed it too far. that someday she'll wake up and realize that freddie and i aren't worth the trouble anymore, aren't worth the owls home or the barely satisfactory notes. i mean, my brothers bill, charlie, and percy, they've all done something with themselves. billy is a curse breaker for gringotts. charlie's out working with bloody dragons in romania. even percy, stuck up percy, has landed himself a job at the ministry. but what have fred and i got? a shoddy box of puking pastels and skiving snackboxes to help chaps out of class. that's hardly admirable. i just can't help but think we're disappointing her by following our dreams." he poured. i sat there, almost stunned as he told me about his deepest insecurities. the infamous troublemaking twin, beloved by anyone with a funny bone, worried that he's a failure?

at my silence, george sighed, "sorry, that was a lot to dump on you." he ruffled up his hair and got up.

"i'll uh, see you around ramona." he said, an empty smile painted on his face. i was still flabbergasted, only able to call out his name as he walked off, him not bothering to turn around.

the seasons changed from the burnt orange of autumn to the still white of winter, and after that little moment with george, it was a while before i saw him again. well, i mean, of course i saw him, it's hard to miss his fiery red hair and the ruckus that always followed him and his twin, but i never got a chance to talk to him. he would send me little smiles as he walked by, but nothing of substance. i found myself craving time alone with him, walking up to that corridor almost every night, hoping he would be there, only for it to be empty.

with the change of seasons brought the change of headmasters at hogwarts. dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, the daily prophet accusing him of trying to overthrow the ministry, while umbridge took over. it was hell, but it provided a temporary distraction from my all-consuming curiosity about the redheaded twin.

i didn't see george in that corridor again until after holidays, after my very first detention with the devil.

my hand was burning, the script on my hand fresh and still bleeding a bit. i must not read illicit materials was etched onto the back of my left hand. the "illicit material" in question was a copy of a previous year's defense against the dark arts book. i was reading it in the library when cassius warrington, a slytherin git on the inquisitorial squad, snatched the book out of my hand and demanded that i do his potions essay for him. naturally, when i refused, i was turned in.

i made my way past the prefect's bathroom and ended up in the corridor, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. i couldn't stand umbridge and the way she was running hogwarts, but there was nothing i could do. there were rumors about some secret classes being held by students, but as soon as dumbledore vanished, so did the whispers of the meetings.

i must have sat there for hours, just staring out of the window, watching the snow fall. i was in almost a dream-like state, one that left me oblivious to the presence next to me until a hand was on my shoulder.

i flinched, turning towards the owner of the hand. my gut knew who it was, but my eyes sought the affirmation that it was, indeed, who i thought.

"you alright there ramona?" george asked, his eyes already finding my scarred hand. he took my hand in his, inspecting it.

"yeah, 'm alright." he looked up at me through furrowed eyebrows, not buying it. moving one of his hands to his robes pocket, the other still holding mine gently, he produced a vial of… some sort of liquid.

"do you trust me?" he asked. with much less hesitation than i should have, i nodded my head, watching his movements closely.

"this may sting a bit." he warned before letting a few drops fall onto my injured hand. it stung for a second, but my eyes widened as i watched the scars fade a bit. they were still there, but healed over, as if i had them for weeks already. i looked up at george in awe.

"how did you do that?" i asked, inspecting my hand. it still hurt a bit, but not nearly as much as before.

"something freddie and i cooked up a while back. couldn't stand watching any more first years going to bed in pain." he told me, his thumb ghosting over my scars. my heart swelled in my chest, words caught in my throat at this. every interaction with the ginger left me more and more enthralled by him.

"you sure you're okay love?" i could only nod, not trusting any sounds that would come out of my mouth. george left it at that, simply scooting a bit closer to me and watching the snowflakes flitter past the window.

when i wandered up to that fifth floor corridor almost a week and a half later, i would have laughed at meeting the redhead here yet again, if it weren't for the slight sobs wracking through his frame.

"george? what's going on?" i asked, quickly making my way to his side. he looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, a half smile gracing his face.

"we have got to stop running into each other like this." he laughed, though his tears kept me from returning the action. i fell into our normal routine, sitting ever-so-slightly too close to each other, looking at the other with so much unspoken care and... something a lot heavier than that. he twiddled with the sleeves of his robes for a second, glancing at me, uncertainty swirling in his eyes.

"freddie and i are leaving." he told me. the words didn't process in my brain.

"leaving? what do you mean leaving?" a sorrowful smile graced his lips.

"we're leaving hogwarts. there isn't much of a future here for us." i just stared at him, taking in this information. he took this as a sign to continue. "we had enough saved up to buy a lot in diagon alley. it has a little apartment above it, and it's perfect. winding stairs, wonky layout, it's as if it was meant for us." he paused for a moment, glancing over at me, as if trying to read my reaction. "we're opening up shop. weasley's wizard wheezes. mum... she doesn't know about it quite yet. i'm not ready to face her disappointment." i looked up at george, and even in this moment, i couldn't help but admire him. he was following his dreams, but his love for his family was evident.

"you're going to do fantastic. you both will. i've seen the impact you guys have on everyone here, i have not a doubt in my mind that the shop will be a hit. as for your mum... she'll come around. once she sees you two doing what you love, once she sees you two genuinely happy, she'll understand." george smiled over at me, a genuine, full smile, before bumping my arm with his, settling himself right up against me.

"aren't you gonna miss me?" he teased. my heart clenched at the thought of him not being here, and i'm sure my face betrayed the internal battle my emotions were going through, because his smirk dropped off of his face.

"it won't be the last time you see me, i guarantee it." he told me, his voice small, vulnerable. i turned my head to look up into his eyes, my nose nearly hitting his. the words died on my tongue as i watched his eyes lower to my lips. my heart raced in my chest, before he spoke.

"as much as i love spending time here in this corridor with you, which i do, more than life, i was wondering if you would like to go somewhere a little less depressing? hogsmeade, maybe? tomorrow?" his confidence was evident, but an underlying hint of vulnerability of doubt crept in at the end.

"i'd love that." i whispered back to him, his brown eyes no longer sad or tear-filled, but now swimming with excitement, before turning back down to my lips, my own eyes doing the same.

[winterfireice]

Keeper group angst!

taglist: @you-have-been-frizzled @did-i-say-you-could-get-up

@the-one-and-only-aroace @stopstealingtomatoes @amandayetagain

fic is under the cut

Keefe

– – –

I don't know what's happening. 

I mean some part of me must, I know Dex and Sophie have not been at school but I'm not even sure if I have been, I have a faint memory of my dad telling me to stop sulking and get ready for class though I have no idea what happened after that, I feel like I've been floating through these past few days, ever since, ever since Fitz called me, Biana was sobbing beside him, I don't think I've ever seen her cry that hard before, and Fitz, he was sitting there looking like he had lived through three lifetimes. But I guess he did outlive two. 

I didn't hear anything past the third sentence after the word “dead” 

I have never known anyone who has died before, Jolie was gone before I was born and I was barely four when Cyrah died, not at an age where I understood what death was, not that our families were even that close,

God, I wish I could go back to then, not that I want Cyrah to die again but so that my friends wouldn’t be… what they are or so at least it wouldn't hurt this much.

I don’t even know them that well yet, and I guess I never will.

I’m going to have to go to their planting. I don’t know what it will be like if they’ll have separate ones, I don't know if i’ll be able to handle that, I'm not sure i’ll be able to handle one.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive this, but I have to, for them.

Biana

– – –

I didn't know I could cry this much, I've hardly stopped since Dad told us what happened, and that was a week ago, now I'm looking at my few green dresses trying to pick which one to wear to my friends’ funeral without collapsing, I don't think I would have remembered to eat if it wasn't for my mom coming to check in on me and Fitz almost every hour, I keep sleeping in Fitz’s room, I'm not sure why, I think I just need to know that not everyone is dead.

I keep getting these almost flashbacks, his dimpled smile or a flash of her brown eyes, and I keep dreaming of them swimming, it makes me sick but it keeps coming back, sometimes it's them swimming farther and farther out, away from the shore, sometimes they’re fighting to bring their head back above the water, and sometimes I just see their registry pendants washing up on the shore, they’re nightmares and I don't know how to make them stop, Elwin tried to give me something but it didn't work, sometimes I hear them screaming, sometimes it's me that's screaming it just depends on the night.

I also see Sophie just standing there, crying or disappointment lingering on her face. I don't know what is worse, maybe it's that I never did and never will be able to apologize.

Fitz

– – –

I’ve never been to a planting before, I was so young when Cyrah died that mom and dad thought it probably wasn't the best idea to bring me. It was probably the right decision, easier for everyone, but standing here listening to the council spew some dry rehearsed speech I'm wondering if it would be any easier to have had experience with this kind of thing, I just want something to take away some of the pressure that's on my chest, I’m not sure if it really has sunk in yet, I mean sure I know they're dead but I don't think I really realize that I’m never seeing them again, they’re gone forever and nothing can change that. 

I've cried, but it was more of a stress cry, an overwhelming of all my senses at that moment kind of cry than a sob, right now staring at the back of their parents’ heads catching glimpses of the seeds with their dna in them and the looks of Dex’s siblings, It's making me want to sob, it's making me want to run away and never have to be around any of this again, it's like I'm hoping to wake up from some kind of sick and twisted nightmare.

Biana is leaning against me, I'm pretty sure I'm the only thing holding her up at the moment, I feel like I have to be strong but I don't want to be,

I was the one that called Biana downstairs when Dad sat down with Mom and told me he had something serious to talk about, tears were already starting to stream down Mom’s face and Dad looked like he was doing everything in his power to hold back some, I know I've never seen him cry. 

And I was the one that called Keefe to tell him about what happened, I didn't want him to hear it secondhand from someone else, maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell him that two of our only real friends were dead over the phone but I wasn't fully aware of my actions at that time.

Dex and Sophie’s dads just put their wanderling seeds into the ground, I do not see much else, that's when my eyes fill with tears and I feel like my heart is ripping into pieces, I barely register that my parents wrap their arms around us, I can hardly breathe, I'm not sure if that's because of how hard I'm crying or how hard my mom is hugging me but people around us are starting to look, like the fact that the Vackers are openly emoting in public is more interesting than the fact that two children are dead. That two people that were supposed to have an eternity never even got to see their graduation. That I'm never going to be able to see my friends again.

[regretismyconstantcompanion]

“I can condemn both the archaic laws, while also not applauding those who would seek to cause genocide against innocent people! Their only crime in your eyes is being born without magic.” Albus didn’t entirely disagree with Gellerts movement, especially how it had been in the earlier days. When he and Gellert had been making their plans together and even beyond that, when Albus had heard the whispers about the movement Gellert had been trying to create. He agreed that the Ministries remained corrupt and held too much power, most of which was held and wielded without question. He agreed that so many of their laws were ancient and while perhaps they had long ago made sense, that no longer was true. But how could he even give an inch here, telling Gellert that he agreed with some of his points, knowing Gellert would only use that against him? He wasn’t going to give the man enough rope to hang him with.

“Perhaps I am a coward.” Albus had certainly always felt like one, especially since Ariana had died. “Yes, I wish I’d died that night. For so long, every single night I’d go to bed and just wish that I’d never see another sunrise again.” How many nights had he screamed into his pillow, sobbing until eventually he would pass out from exhaustion or the alcohol he’d consumed. Weeks had stretched into months and while he had eventually felt more numb than anything else, drinking himself into a stupor had become the norm.

How angry, how disappointed would Gellert be if he ever discovered just how close he had come to ending his own suffering once and for all? He’d made plans. He knew how he would do it and had even written two letters to leave behind. One to Aberforth. One to Gellert. He’d been days away from carrying out his plan when Fawkes had tapped on his window and his beloved phoenix had never left his side since.

Albus felt his shoulders sink as Gellert snapped and snarled at him. He didn’t know what he had been expecting upon their reunion, even if it was something he had spent far too long imagining. He had known they would fight, how could they not after the way they had left things between them? But he hadn’t imagined Gellert being so cold and cruel and almost spiteful with his choices of words, designed and spoken only to wound.

“What do you want me to say to you Gellert? Clearly you aren’t willing to listen to what I have to say and anything I do say, you’re deliberately taking it out of the intended context.” If this was how this meeting was going to continue, there was little reason to continue it. “Have you not been trying to make it sound as if you were better off without me, since clearly I’ve proven to be nothing more than a complete disappointment to you?”

Albus straightened as Gellert yet again snarled back untrue accusations back at him. “I never said that summer didn’t mean anything to me! Tell yourself whatever lies you must about the time we shared but I won’t stand here and have you put words into my mouth! If you still don’t understand that that summer meant everything to me and that all I regret is our parting then….” Albus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill over. He was no mans pawn and he wouldn’t allow the Ministry to use him in their war against Gellert. He would have thought that Gellert had realised that, if he was so knowledgeable about his meeting with Travers.

Albus wasn't entirely sure what had led him to Père Lachaise so late into the evening, flowers in hand. He had felt the need to visit after the events that had unfolded here only days earlier. Leta was dead. Newt and Theseus were grieving. So many had fallen to Gellerts side within days. Queenie. Credence. He felt guilt grip his soul, feeling that he was responsible for the losses. He should have anticipated Gellerts moves. He never should have let them fall into Gellerts trap and yet, he had. There was still hope for Queenie and Credence. They could still get them back. But Leta was lost forever. As if that weren't bad enough, Newt had so proudly retrieved something he hadn't wanted. The blood troth. He had almost been surprised to discover that Gellert still had the pendant and why was he wearing it, to one of his rallys no less? If anything, he would have assumed the thing had ended up at the bottom of an ocean or it might have been well protected with more charms and spells, ensuring it could never fall into the 'wrong' hands. Yet now the thing laid heavy around his neck. Albus didn't know what he planned to do with it yet, despite assuring Newt that he would try and break it. He knew that he should want to break their promises to one another but he didn't. He placed the flowers at the tomb gently, a heavy sigh coming from him. Leta wasn't here. There had been nothing for them to bury, although he knew the Scamanders were preparing a memorial service for her. He would attend, naturally. Leta had been one of his favourite students, even though she had never believed that. She had still confirmed as much during their last and final meeting. He closed his eyes, cursing himself and wondering why he hadn't done more. He paused when he felt a presence within the tomb. His fingers itched to reach for his wand but he didn't. He knew exactly who it was without even needing to turn around. "I'm not in the mood to fight, if that's what you were hoping for." He was confident that Gellert hadn't followed him here although he wasn't sure them meeting could have been entirely a coincidence either. @nurmengard-master

[cinnamonshay]

Through the Ghost— Team Black

songfic inspired by though the ghost by shinedown

(Part two to All The Consequences)

soves - fly

(not 100% sure where I’m going with this story but I have some wild ideas, more or less a filler, there will be a part three)

part one , part two

taglist: @lyannastarkweather   @m00n5t0n3  @allamericanuniverse​ @lilithskywalker​ ​

word count; 957

“The world will never know you like I do,”

Aemond’s eye held only bitter agony as Vhagar’s landing rumbled through the island as he dismounted, his silver hair lay flat against his shoulders, dark circles under his spiritless eye and his black eyepatch.

“Soves, Vhagar.” He monotonously bid the dragon, dropping his sword in the sand as he stepped forward, the guards waiting for the dragon to fly a safe distance away, although she remained upon the island, before surrounding him, he was marched at sword-point to the throne room where Rhaenyra and her sons were gathered, Jacaerys noticed the numb look on Aemond’s face, and he was the first to react, “Where is my sister? Where is Y/N!?” Jace’s voice was panic-stricken as he questioned Aemond, eyes searching for any answer, Rhaenyra bid the guards to disarm, and gently shooed Jace out of her way as she stepped in between the two men, standing directly in front of Aemond.

“Aemond.. Where is my daughter? Has something happened?” She questioned softly, fear filling her heart as he refused to look at her.

` Everything that mattered is just a city of dust `

Aemond choked back a sob, his composure and numbed façade ripped away from him in the face of his half-sister, the mother of his beloved, the woman who his deceased wife had gotten both her eye color and smile from. And Rhaenyra recoiled, “Tell me what has happened!” She demanded, as terror raced through her veins, she had not seen her daughter but twice after her wedding to Aemond. “I couldn’t save her, I couldn’t stop Vha-” he stopped, and reached his hand out, the firelight glinting on steel in his hand as he pressed the Valyrian steel necklace into Rhaenyra’s hand, drawing a ttremulous breath, “It is my fault, you are free to exact your revenge upon me.” He finished, finally forcing himself to meet Rhaenyra’s eyes as he shook, tears falling from his eye, and the pain of looking at your mother in the aftermath of what had occured, the guilt that shredded what small fragmented pieces of his heart that remained.

Rhaenyra braced herself upon the table with one shaking hand, her eyes shut tightly as a tear escaped and fell down her cheek. Lucerys was crying uncontrollably, “I will kill you for this!” Jacaerys shouted, rushing towards him before Rhaenyra shouted, “That is ENOUGH!” the fury in her shaking voice stopping Jace in his tracks as he looked at her in angry confusion,

“Enough blood has been spilled this day, I will not let heartbreak and impulse drive our decisions. Stay your hand unless I give the command.” Rhaenyra reprimanded her eldest son. “Y/N would not have wanted his death.”

` I can’t see you anymore `

Rhaenyra had Lucerys escort Aemond to a room, her face was blank, not betraying her thoughts as she told Aemond she must speak to her sons before making a decision. 

“I heard you, you know.” Luc spoke softly, his eyes still trained on the floor as he lead Aemond through the maze of halls, “-trying to control Vhagar I mean. She is a warrior’s dragon though and she could never have known you didn’t wish death upon all who stood against you. Visenya was not known for her peace...” he trailed off for a second before continuing, "All I meant is I know you never would have intentionally harmed my sister.” Aemond barely heard the mumbles, but he managed to catch it, Aemond managed to release a shuddering exhale, as he stopped walking behind Lucerys, the window he stood in front of had Y/N Velaryon , Lucerys Velaryon , and Jacaerys Velaryon etched into stone of the window sill. He traced your name with his fingers as Lucerys held a bittersweet smile at the sight. “I wish it had been me.. I wish I had never taken to the skies. I would have her still by my side. And I cannot continue this war at my family’s side without sacrificing her memory. I swore no harm would come to her brothers at my hand.” Aemond spoke, his voice the weakest he had let it be since he the day he lost his eye.

` I used to wake up to the color of your soul `

Luc hesitantly wrapped his arms around Aemond, feeling him tense at the hug. “Your mistakes are not mine to forgive, but for what I can, I do. As I know Y/N would have.” Luc’s eyes were still red from the tears he had shed, but he vowed to live up to his sister, she had always been more or less a peaceable woman. She had carried all her strength in the way she loved. 

Aemond’s heart burned as he drowned in guilt, here was his nephew who not two days ago he had threatened and chased through the skies, ending in his sister’s death, forgiving him and treating him with a sympathy he was sure he did not deserve. “Thank you, nephew.” was all he managed to answer with, his voice thickened with emotions, as his mind ran rampant, how could they be as evil as his mother had sworn, he had surely believed it after the loss of his eye, and yet he knew if it had been Helaena’s murderer confessing to his mother, his family would have them tortured to their death, immediately, regardless of what Helaena’s wishes might have been, and yet Rhaenyra valued her daughter’s memory above all else. If roles had been reversed Aegon would not be consoling the guilty party, nor would Aemond have. It spoke volumes to what his father had tried ceaselessly to impart upon his family. Forgiveness and tranquility in the face of darkness.

` Not a single lesson was learned `

[queers-gambit]

Kin Slayer

[ part two ] [ alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion ] [ series masterlist ]

prompt: war wages and in the Riverlands, it ends as it began - with him.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.8k+

note: two parts 'cause final word count was 12k+. also, this is the final, people!!

warnings: loose book spoilers - proceed at your own risk. cursing, spoilers, angst angst angst. ❗️SPOILERS

Kasta's roar of alarm vibrated the entire island, circling in the air twice, then descending to your ancestral home - tears still leaking down your cheeks as the storm raged its war over the sea. It was dangerous to fly in such violent weather by every sense of the word, but you could not remain in King's Landing another moment; escaping back home to the comfort of your mother.

You rushed into the dark castle, soaked to the bone and shivering, explaining to the guards that you needed to see your Queen mother immediately. They nodded and lead you to the throne room, where you huddled to the floor by the fire in an effort to warm your numbed fingers. The night was cold and quiet to let the storm ring clearly in your ears, and midnight slowly passed.

Yet, it wasn't enough to drown out the last words you exchanged with your husband, heart weeping as his absence already created a hole in your heart. You felt guilty for wanting to be with him, yet you were only parted an hour or two - tops. Yet it felt like an ocean was between you, setting adrift the moment you learned of Lucerys.

You just wanted to go back to before today.

Suddenly, your mother burst through the doors with such force they banged into the walls; calling your name, and making you stand on wobbly legs. "Oh, my sweet girl," she rushed for you and the moment you were in her arms, you were both sobbing relentlessly. "Oh, you're home - oh, you're safe, and you're home," she held the back of your head tightly, petting soothingly. "Thank the Gods."

"Mumma," you whispered, pulling back, "I-I have to tell you something horrendous."

"So do I."

You offered her a curious look, "What're the odds they are the same message?"

"Tell me yours first," she nodded, taking your hand in hers, but neither of your tears ceased.

You braced yourself, explaining, "There's been a grievance in the family. An-And I'm afraid I know the details of it."

She stood still as you rolled your lips between your teeth before revealing the fate of your little brother - then, just naturally falling into a sobbing mess as you explained to her what happened after.

• King's Landing // the Dragon Pit // hours prior •

Your eyes refused to look at your husband while your mind raced with confusing options. He had asked you to stay, and while a part of you wanted to accept, you knew you truly couldn't - not after everything that had happened, not after all he's done.

So, after a few moments of stony silence, your voice whispered, "I can't stay here, Aemond. Our respected families need us now, and we've both obligation and duty to them."

"What about duty to our marriage?"

You nodded sadly as you had weighed that same question, eyes raking over the dirt floor. "You threw that out the window when you decided to pursue Luke on dragonback. I did not do this to us, you did, and this is something you must deal with on your own. I don't think I can hold your hand through this because the idea of you ever touching me again makes me feel physically ill. To stand at your side loyally feels like the greatest insult I can offer Lucerys."

"Sweet girl, please," he begged in a soft whisper - and let it be clearly known that Aemond Targaryen did not beg.

"I can't," you whispered back, feeling something split down your heart - but you had to do this. "You destroyed this marriage when you let your dragon eat my baby brother. I can't fix this mess of yours, Aemond. I can't support you through this - I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to stand at your side in court when they know you killed our kin and started this war? How am I supposed to look at you?"

He sighed, "So, what do we do, love?"

You wanted to scream at him not to use pet names anymore because it made your heart hurt worse. "We do nothing," you said instead, swallowing thickly, "because I need to go, I need to be away from this cursed city. I can't stay here anymore, I can't stay with you, and you know that once you deliver the news, your family would never let me out of the Keep again."

You heard his shuddering breath, "I am to lose you? This easily?"

"Easily?" You scoffed. "You killed my brother - you lost control. This was not an easy decision but your actions are forcing me to make it."

Aemond frowned, "Please, let me make things right between us."

"You can't," you sniffled, moving as quick as your belly allowed. "I must go, I can't stay."

"It's storming, what if you waited?" He followed you to your feet. "Sweetheart, please, just wait!" He followed you as you made a beeline for your dragon out of sheer panic. "Just let the storm pass, do not leave now - "

"I cannot," you whipped around on him. "Do you not get it? I can't stay with you, I can't be around you! You said you would help me - so help me now. Stand aside and let me go, there is nothing left for us to salvage. There is genuine shock that I have not slapped that stupid fucking face of yours. I love you, I do, Aemond, with my whole fucking heart and I'm so sorry it came to this, but I can't stay here - not with you. Not anymore."

His tears fell uselessly, something you've rarely ever seen before. "I can fix this," he promised in a wobble. "Please, let me try - I know I can fix this, sweet girl. Y-You just - please. You just have to stay and let me try."

"You cannot," you sighed, "because there's nothing left. Not for us. I cannot repeat myself all night - "

"You cannot think that to be true!"

"How can you think different!? What is left, Aemond!?"

"Our love!"

"Our love has withered under your desperate need for revenge! And now, my brother is dead and my mother's going to war against you and your family. When Green fights Black, I am not needed here but rather with her!"

"You're wrong because I need you," he snapped. "I cannot be without, please, do not go, my love. Do not take my child, do not take your love, I need you."

"Aemond Targaryen doesn't need anything from anyone, and if I stay, I'll only ever hate you for keeping me trapped," you whispered. "For whatever it is worth, I have enjoyed our time together and I do love you - more than I've ever loved before, and often times, more than I loved myself. It pains me to leave, believe me, but it would kill me to stay, and right now, I can only do what's best for me - not you."

"What about what is best for us?"

"That is not what's best for me! Are you not listening!? Do I speak a language unknown to you!?" You snapped, hearing Kasta growling with warning. "I am sorry, Aemond, I am. This shouldn't have come to pass, but now that it has, we cannot ever go back."

He shifted and lifted his head, staring down his nose at you. "Do you mean to say that should I ever see you again, it will be in battle?"

You shrugged, "Less my mother spares me." Your hand moved to your swelling womb, holding it securely. "But it is not in her nature, and you've just shattered her world into ruins. I have no idea what I'm walking into - "

"So stay here!"

"I will suffer if I do!"

"You know I would protect you, but I can't if you're gone! Who is to say you wouldn't suffer going back to your mother? Huh? How do you know this is right - why is it so farfetched to think we can recover from this? My love, please - "

"Because, for the last time, you killed! My baby brother!"

He took another breath, "You will not stay?"

"I cannot."

He nodded sadly, slowly reaching to gently caress your cheek, "Then good luck, wife. Do not take this the wrong way, but I will pray we never meet again."

You smirked sarcastically, "Least now, you're free to marry the Baratheon Bitch."

His jaw clenched and he looked away from your reddening gaze, finding your tears overwhelming to your mind, body, and soul. After exhaling, he finally agreed, "All right, I will stand aside and you... You can leave," he gulped. "For what it's worth, I love you - now and 'til my death. Nothing is going to change that."

"That's nice for you," you whispered, "because it's all changed for me. Your actions are making me think that this was all you wanted all along. I'll remind you, my hand was offered as compensation, yet you still childishly pursued revenge. Now, the only thing I can think, is that this - our relationship - our marriage - was all a lie."

"You know it wasn't," he argued heatedly. "Do not say that - do not think that, you know I love you. You know it was all real."

You nodded, "Then I guess it won't stop hurting, will it?"

"I'll write if it does," he whispered, looking away from you. Then, his mind made up and he reached for the back of his neck and unclasped the golden Warrior pendent you gifted him for his nameday. "Take it," he nodded.

"I don't - "

"You gifted it to me to keep me safe," he whispered, chain dangling from his grasp. "Please just take it. It will give me peace of mind to think you're protected... Let this succeed where I have failed." You mutely took the chain from him, careful to avoid grazing his skin, and kept the pendent in an iron-locked fist. "Go," he whispered. "Before I change my mind."

You scoffed and turned for Kasta, climbing into her saddle, and urging her out of the Caves - leaving Aemond behind in a cloud of rising dust. And on the way out, you realized you left your heart behind, but there was no room for heart in war. You didn't go back.

• Dragonstone // present •

Rhaenyra frowned as she listened, trying to use her thumbs to swipe your tears away, but more fell and rendered her powerless against the avalanche of your emotions. You stuttered and sobbed, skipping certain details in your recount, but then collapsing into her arms.

You admitted your guilt. Your pain and worry for him, how you longed to have him back. How you wanted nothing more than for this all to be a farce - some terrible nightmare.

You asked her why this had to pass - repeatedly wondering where it went wrong, why the Gods would do this, and how to move forward.

Questions your mother did not have answers to.

For the first time since you were a small child, you had gotten in her bed with her; snuggled deep in her embrace as you both mourned for Luke. And you also grieved for your marriage and husband - but your love for him was greater than your guilt, making it all hurt to a suffocating level.

Your mother had kicked Daemon out of bed, but one look at your face had him shuffling from the room and leaving you both some privacy. She let you unload your heart's pain, and before you knew it, you were dozed off with your head tucked under her chin as her hands toyed with your long hair.

Yet, she laid awake. Her mind raced. Ideas, thoughts, notions, and strategy all filtered in and out of her brain; never shutting off, never allowing her rest.

When her daughter rose, Rhaenyra was still awake and admitted, "I don't think I can do this, my sweet girl."

"What d'you mean, Mumma?"

"T-This war," she trembled. "I do not know if I have the strength. We have already lost so much, I don't think I can risk more."

"Your family has the strength," you assured softly. "Joffrey will need you now more than ever, and when word reaches Jace of Luke's demise, I fear for the retribution he will want. Yet... Daemon had a point, we have more dragons than they do, and you now have both Meleys and Kasta. The Green's have Vhagar."

"Would you think me foolish if I promoted your grandparents to war generals?" She asked quietly, stroking the hair on the side of your head, gently pulling it back over your shoulder.

"Not in the slightest," you assured. "Should anyone have more cause than us to wage war on the Greens, might be Princess Rhaenys."

She nodded, "I fear you might be right."

"You are not alone in this," you assured, grabbing her hands. "I have come home, and I know I cannot ease the pain of Luke's passing, but I can be here to ensure we are as victorious as possible."

"You might face Aemond, my girl."

"I considered that," you nodded, laying your hand over her own; pressing her palm to your cheek. "I came here, anyways."

"You did," she nodded with a sniffle, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You're always here when I need you most."

"I'm sorry it took me so long," you teased, hearing her chuckle through tears. You both eventually rose from bed and dressed for a new day, and just as you were exiting the castle, you were met by a hurried Daemon.

"Quick," he ushered you both, "it's Joffrey."

"What?" You demanded, taking your mother's hand as you both hustled to where you had seen Daemon come from. But no words were said as the young boy was trying to urgently fight off the few guards present and mount his dragon. "I got it," you sighed to Rhaenyra and Daemon, to Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys as they arrived; squeezing your mother's hand before letting go and jogging towards the guards. "All right, all right, hey, hey, hey," you took control of your much smaller brother. "That's enough, Joffrey, hey!"

"No!" The little boy sobbed, thrashing in your arms. "I-I have to go! I have to go! Luke needs me! Let me go!"

"My love," you forced him to turn to you as you took a knee, "believe me when I say there is nothing we can do about Luke now. I'm so sorry, my boy, but he is gone." Joffrey began to sob, your own tears brimming. "But you hear me now," you nodded, smearing his tears from his cheeks, "I will not let his death go unavenged. The Greens will pay for what they have done to our family."

He nodded sadly and dropped into your shoulder, making your guilt heighten after years of being apart. You feared for the time you all had left, leaving a kiss on his forehead before scooping him up onto your hip - which was no easy feat.

He was small, but not that small. Yet, you made it work.

However, Joffrey giggled lightly as you tickled his tummy lightly and moved back to your parents; your mother smiling fondly at the pair of you. "To war, then?" You nodded with a smirk, making her face fall in shock as you stepped away with the tearful boy.

Daemon actually felt something in his heart burst and realized it was unbridled pride, turning to watch you walk down the hall; head held high, shoulders back, arms holding your little brother, and though it was invisible, the weight of the world slowly crushing your spirit.

But you were both Targaryen and Velaryon, and you would no be so easily broken.

To say you were Daemon's secret weapon was an understatement. Just after Luke's death, you and he mounted your mighty dragons - where Kasta was now bigger than Caraxes - and flew for Harrenhal. It fell without bloodshed due to only fear after Caraxes landed and Kasta hovered so close over the castle, that each beat of her wings sent trembles through the castle.

Jace had been successful in rallying allies, and soon, the Blacks felt at an advantage. Yet, the scorn from Luke's death was felt by all and while you returned to your mother's side for whatever she may need, your step-father sent word to King's Landing for retribution - citing a son for a son. There were those who lingered in the darkness who had found loyalty and trust in the Prince of the City.

Blood and Cheese was dispensed at Daemon's orders and you would never know the extent of the damage done 'til much later. The Queen Mother Alicent was bound and gagged and after the murder of her hand maiden, the Queen Heleana arrived with her three children to say goodnight to their grandmother...

By the end, only the Queens and two children survived the ordeal.

Your heart felt at war once again after learning of the Prince Jaehaerys' demise; feeling as if you should have been there to either prevent such an attack, or at least comfort your sister-by-law after naming one son to die, but another was slain.

This lead into a vicious blood feud that spilled over into the countryside and through small folk. Banners were raised and battles started; leaving the Riverlands in the control of the Blacks first. Your Grandsire Corlys also commanded the waters of Blackwater Bay, strangling the business of merchants to the Capital City. With rejections coming in from seemingly everywhere, Aegon was surely shitting on the Throne.

So much so, he apparently sent his man, Ser Arryk, into Dragonstone to impersonate his twin brother, your mother's Queen Guard, Ser Erryk. Yet, you were the one who found the two bodies - twins, slain by one another - and raised the alarm.

Though you had once thought to be on the advantage, Aegon was an impatient little bastard and the attack on Rook's Rest left your mother pacing with nerves.

"Send me, Mother," you nodded, chin lifting. "Kasta's big enough to handle this."

"Not a single chance in Seven Hells - "

"With respect, Your Grace," your Grandmother, Rhaenys, stepped up, "but she would not travel alone. Together, with Meleys and Kasta, we would stand a chance."

She sighed, "I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, Your Grace, just give us leave," you nodded.

The silence echoed around you as she weighed in her mind the pros and cons of sending her only girl into war. Her pregnant daughter.

"All right, you might fly to the Lord Stauton's aid," Rhaenyra relented, "but you're not to engage in any fight! Do you hear me? I will not risk you or the child."

You chuckled, "Kasta does all the fighting for me, Mother."

"I'm not kidding, my girl, you are there for show - not as muscle. Let your dragon's presence be enough."

"And if they attack? Is she to flee?" Rhaenys asked.

"Yes," your mother snapped. "Your Queen demands it."

You bowed your head, "Yes, Your Grace."

She sighed and stalked up to you, taking your cheeks in her hands. "I need you, my girl. But I need you to be careful more."

"I will, Mother," you promised, hands over hers. With an encouraging smile, you parted ways.

With a new set of golden armor adorning your body with all black clothing underneath, you and your Grandmother mounted your dragons - shimmering gems of emerald and copper - before taking another look at your home. "You will return to see this place again," Rhaenys promised you in High Valyrian. "I will see to it, sweet girl."

You only nodded before encouraging Kasta to the skies with Meleys following right behind. They both flew with ferocity towards Rook's Rest, praying to the Seven you weren't too late. However, when you both arrived, you were shocked to fly over the fortress and swerve Kasta to the side when a spear was launched through the air - just managing to cut past your ear.

"SCORPIONS!" You alerted your Grandmother, trying to avoid the hail of arrows over you both. You and Rhaenys evaded the pointed weapons with relative easy; where the Scorpions could only fire once, in a single direction - and your dragons could dip and dive through the sky. "Fuck," you grunted, lowering yourself to the saddle when archers took aim at your body.

Kasta roared when you grunted in pain, an arrow embedding itself in your thigh to pierce into the saddle bed.

You heard Meleys give a responding roar, and together, the two dragons flew overhead of Ser Cole's Green Army, both you and your Grandmother shouted in union, "DRACARYS!"

The men beneath you all screamed in agony as fire devoured them whole.

You were cutting through the air when another battle cry rang out, the beating of wings heard right after, and in the short distance, you saw both Sunfyre, Aegon's dragon, and Aemond's dragon, Vhagar, flying directly for you and Rhaenys.

"Go, you need to go - get out of here, my girl, please! Go now!" Rhaenys begged you, hovering over the smoking fortress.

"It's too late," you refused, tears springing to your eyes as you met her gaze. "This is why I came home, you need me, Grandmother," you told her in High Valyrian. "I will stand with you."

"Vhagar is too big for us, you know this," she panted in fear. But then, an idea struck. "Stick to the smoke and make it look like you're deserting me. Only then, you attack from above."

"Grandma," you refused.

"Go, please, it's our best chance," she nodded, and for a moment, you didn't notice the pain in your throbbing thigh.

"I love you," you told her through emotion - refusing to cry in the heat of battle. But it was hard not to, especially when something in your stomach told you this battle was far from over.

"I love you, too," she promised, "now, go on, please."

"To the skies, Kasta," you nodded, holding tight as the dragon gave a roar and flew higher in the sky - making sure it looked like she was in retreat before the hanging smoke in the sky ate your form.

To Aegon and Aemond, it looked as a retreat and both men focused on their intended target - Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was, and Meleys, the Red Queen. They seemingly stood alone.

A thousand feet in the air, the battle began. Teeth and claws, roars of dragons, and the clashing of flesh echoed to anyone alive on the ground. Bodies thundered together and jaws snapped; leaving the ground to spray lightly with dragon blood.

You had to admit, Meleys gave both dragons one helluva fight but they still overpowered her - and you saw your chance. "Now, Kasta, down - onto Sunfyre!"

Understanding your intentions, Kasta dove down so fast it made you cling to your saddle with your chest pressed to her neck, and just as her claws deployed, Kasta gave a bellowing roar of battle and latched onto the golden dragon.

You heard your husband scream your name above the fray, but the momentary distraction proved useful for Meleys - who latched onto Vhagar's neck. Four dragons collided together in the sky, two Black dragons keeping their Green prey in their clutches.

Sunfyre was whipped to the side with half his wing missing, and the golden dragon soared through the air to slam into both Vhagar and Meleys - sending everyone careening to the ground.

"RHAENYS!" You screamed, sending Kasta to the ground after her. You had to hover for a moment as the mushrooming dust settled; first seeing Vhagar, who looked unharmed, before searching until you found the Red Queen. You panted through your tears when you located Meleys at last, but the dragon was no longer moving. "No, no, no, no, no," you begged, landing with a thud that could've cracked your neck before using the momentum to swing from the saddle - breaking the arrow off in your thigh.

You landed on unsteady feet, limping to where the body of your Grandmother laid, crashing to your knees when you reached her. You pulled her head to your lap with shaking hands.

"Oh, Gods, no, no, no, no, not you, too, please, no, stay with me, Grandma, please, please, y-you're gonna be okay," You begged her broken body, blood smeared over her mouth, nose, and dripping from her ears. She was bruised, burnt, and covered in ash and soot. "Grandma, please, please, yo-you have to get up. Okay? We have to go, all right? I have to get your help, please, get up. W-We have to get back, y-you-you need Maesters. I need to help you, please, you have to get up." A sob broke through your lips, "You have to get up - please!" Then, a broken whisper, "Please."

You heard footsteps behind you but didn't turn because Rhaenys was smiling at you. "My sweet girl," she whispered, a bit of blood bubbling from her mouth, her hand raising to your cheek that hovered over her face in tangible worry, "it is done. It's over, this is my end. You have to let me go, my sweetest love."

"Please," you begged again, holding her in your lap.

"I only have one request of you, my precious, sweet granddaughter," she sniffled, briefly choking on her words and blood.

"W-What? What can I do? Grandma, please, how can I help you?"

She swallowed thickly, coughing after to send another spray of blood over her lips and chin. "T-Tell Kasta I want my end in fire," she nodded. "Do it, please. I am in terrible pain, sweet one. D-Do not make me suffer any longer, my girl, please."

"Do not ask this of me," you begged softly.

"You're the o-only one," she coughed again. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, the strength in her fading - but not fast enough to save her from suffering through this pain. "I love you."

Through your rapid tears, you assured, "I love you, too. I will see you again. And I will make you proud, I promise."

"I already am," she whispered. She paused for a moment before smiling sadly, "You look so much like your Father."

"Tell him I miss him everyday," you whispered.

Your forehead met hers in a solemn goodbye, being forced to leave her at the base of her dead dragon's belly. You limped backwards, her eyes never leaving yours, as Kasta's head loomed beside your body once you came to a halt. You shook your head at Rhaenys, but after an encouraging nod, your voice cracked, "Dracarys, Kasta."

It was quick and painless as fire enveloped the Princess Rhaenys' body; your knees giving out to send you into the dirt in a fit of desperation. Your arms wrapped around your belly, swollen with child, and just sobbed uselessly.

The fire did nothing to Meleys' body, but it burnt your Grandmother beyond recognition. Though, because of location, you knew everyone would know it was her. You heard careful footsteps and your name being spoken softly, knowing who it was at once.

"This is gonna kill us all, Aemond," you whispered, staring at the smoldering remains of your father's mother. "No way we all survive, th-this is - this is madness!"

Slowly, Aemond lowered himself onto a single knee beside you. "I'm sorry for your loss, for what it's worth."

You nodded sadly, "She was a good woman... Who did right by everyone despite never receiving their respect in return."

He agreed, "She'll be gravely missed."

You sniffled, looking around at the smoke as your throat cleared. "Right, so, uh, how exactly does this work? Am I to fly Kasta to King's Landing, or will you set her free? Hitch her to Vhagar? Kill her here?"

"What're you talking about?"

Your eyes met his own for the first time in months, "Isn't that the way of war? To take prisoners? Or do you intend to do away with my life now?"

Aemond's brow furrowed, "How could you think that of me? No, no, I will not take you prisoner and I won't be killing you."

"Today, at least," you sighed. "What of your brother?"

"Sunfyre is grounded and Aegon's been knocked out," Aemond revealed, "he looks pretty battered."

"Why're you here, then? With me?"

"I had to make sure you were all right, love, and when I saw Kasta land, I just... I had to make sure," he admitted, sighing after as his own gaze drifted. But then, he saw and voiced, "You're bleeding. Gods, love, y-you're hurt!"

"Huh?" You muttered, looking to your burning-with-pain thigh. "Oh, right," your throat cleared, "curtesy of Cole's archers."

"You should get home, get that cleaned and treated."

"Why're you doing this?" You demanded, too tired to physically fight but you'd still instigate the shit out of him. "Huh? Why? Why're you letting me go? Why'd you come check on me?"

"I told you - I needed to make sure you were all right," his head shook. "I know it's hard to believe, but you're still my wife, and I've loved you for years. I will not so easily abandon our union, nor the love I bare for you."

You shuddered a breath, "You should not care, Aemond. 'S been months - "

"A hundred and four days," he nodded.

"Aemond..."

"Bit over three months," he sighed. "I can do nothing but count the days since I lost you. There is little else my mind lets me care for when you are not beside me."

Your tears fell, again. "Let me go," you whispered. "You and I are both on different paths in destiny, Aemond, but if today was any indication, this war is going to destroy us both. Mind, body, soul."

"It has already taken you from me," he scoffed, "there is little else I care for."

"I wish to every God everything was different," you nodded, "but it's not, and we can only go forward. But you and I both know there are obligations in times of war that we cannot avoid, no matter how much we try. The next time we meet, we will not be so lucky and we'll have to face one another."

"I won't fight you," he refused. "I could never - "

"You'll have to," you frowned. "Now, go. Your boy-King-brother needs you, I'm sure."

He glanced around at your dragon and frowned as his eyes drifted back to your injury. "I will help you first, you cannot climb with your injuries."

It was the first time you were acutely aware of the injuries, aching from the clashing of bodies through smoke and soot. Aemond's arms were tight around you as you grunted while climbing to your feet, holding onto him for a moment as you stabilized yourself.

"All right?" he checked in a whisper. You nodded stiffly, and together, moved for the rope ladder of Kasta's saddle. However, just before you could reach for the ladder, you felt Aemond's hands drift to your swollen belly. "And the babe? Please, at least tell me that."

"I think they're okay," you whispered, leaning on Kasta's hide for a moment. "I will write if anything changes."

He sighed, "You've two months to go, yes?"

"About," you nodded. For a moment, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability and turned your back flat on your dragon to face your husband. Your hands held his in place, letting him crowd into you as you whisper, "I think they miss their Daddy's voice."

He smiled gently, "I miss you."

"You've no idea how much I miss you, too," You admitted with tears in your amethyst eyes, nodding, "but war takes all, there's never a true victor."

"Come home with me," he insisted for a moment. "Come back to King's Landing, let me protect you. W-We'll feed information around that I took you captive so your mother doesn't think you've abandoned her, but please, let me be there for you through the rest of this. Let me... Let me meet our child, please, my love."

Your head shook with a sad smile, "Why can't you come with me? Surely, between you and I, Vhagar and Kasta, we'll win, and this can all be over. Please, Mother is rational and between she and I, we can convince Daemon. We can be together, have our baby, be a family like we deserve... Aemond, please, come away with me," you begged when his gaze dropped from yours."

"You know I cannot," he whispered.

"Don't leave me," you begged quietly, and in that moment, Aemond's heart had stitched itself back together just to ice over and be shattered with a hammer.

"Aegon is hurt, my love. If he does not wake from his severe injuries, I-I will be asked to sit the Iron Throne for the interim."

You nodded with understanding, hating the words on your tongue, "Then this is goodbye... Again."

He sighed, letting himself shuffle closer before lowering his forehead to your own. You paused to breath him in; the rancid smell of burnt flesh the only thing your nose could register until he was crowding into you. "I have another impossible request," he whispered.

"Speak it."

"Might I kiss you?"

"Aemond - "

"Three months without you and you say the next time we meet will be our last," he rushed. "Let us have this last moment before we're both torn between obligations. Please," he begged gently. "I miss you, my pretty girl, please, grant me this one privilege. I miss my wife."

"It will only hurt us more," you felt your resolve crumbling, and he saw it; hand stroking the side of your face.

"If this is our last moment together, please," he whispered. "I cannot fight you, I can only love you. Let me kiss you, wife - "

But you cut him off by rocking onto your toes and pressing your lips to his. His hands moved to quickly hold you against him, mind registering the feel of you again, and letting the kiss grow in passion. It slowed into something languid; speaking without words what the other means to you both.

How much you loved each other. How badly you would miss him. How sorry you were for the coming pain.

"I love you," you whispered against him, his hands holding your cheeks. "And I-I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Aemond, I-I wish this was different," your breathing turned ragged from your weeping.

He nodded against your forehead as they rested together. His fingers pet over the loose strands of hair that had been pulled free of your braids, pecking your lips again before whispering, "I wish everything was different, too, and I'm sorry for all I've done. This was never my intention, to see us on opposite sides. I love you, too, sweet girl." With a sigh, he whispered, "I will wait for word of the child's birth, hmm?"

You nodded, "Any name recommendations I should know?"

He chuckled, "So long as they are healthy and you are happy, I want for little else."

Your frown was deep. "I need to go..."

"Do not," he tried again, pulling back to look at you in full. "Please, come away with me."

"Go where?" You chuckled.

"Pentos, Essos, I'll even settle for fucking Braavos, but anywhere not here," he rushed in something you understood to be panic.

"Hey, hey," you whispered, pressing into his chest, "you need to breath. You and I are needed here, we cannot desert our families."

"What of us?" He demanded, grip turning possessive. "Hmm? We deserve to meet our child, raise them. We deserve time together - "

"We had years - "

"It's not enough," he finally broke, holding your cheeks between both palms to bring his forehead to your own. A single tear rolled down his cheek, streaking through the soot on his face, "It's not enough, love, please, 's not enough."

"It never will be," you agreed, holding his wrists. "Please stay with me, don't leave."

"Daemon would have my head."

"We will convince them all, and if not, we will go to Essos, I swear it. Just don't leave us."

He whimpered lightly and cradled you into his chest.

It took another ten minutes before Aemond was sweeping you into his arms to lock your arms around his neck and legs around his back. You clung to him as he climbed, Kasta growling with distaste but understanding you needed the help and she was much too big to handle on your own.

Aemond sniffled and set you to the saddle, pausing to ensure you were safe before letting a hand caress your jaw to pull you back into his chest. "Until next time," he whispered.

You replied by giving him a final kiss, nodding at him in thanks before he climbed off the emerald green dragon. You sniffled through your tears as the dragon wasted no time in turning and taking for the skies again, the only thing to follow, that, of Vhagar's roar.

For a moment, you half expected to feel the beast's teeth - but your husband never pursued because you had apparently really injured Aegon in Kasta's attack. He needed Aemond's attention now that you were gone, never knowing that he stood in his spot and watched until he could no longer see the Great Emerald.

When you got back to Dragonstone, you rushed with a limp for the strategy room - ignoring the maids, guards, and servants that tried to halt you. Pushing open the doors, you revealed the war council and your mother - who shot out of her chair in alarm.

"My girl," she rushed for your bloody and soot-covered form. "Are you all right? Oh, Gods, what has happened?"

"I carry news," you distracted yourself. Your eyes met your Grandsire's and after patting your mother's hands, turned to approach him. You swallowed, "Grandfather?"

"Sweets?" He nodded, using your (long forgotten) childhood nickname. "What's wrong? Where is Rhaenys? Where is my wife?"

You nodded, "It was an ambush, Grandfather. They knew we would come. First, they fired arrows and long bows and spears at us from Scorpions. None but one really landed," you glanced to your injury, his eyes following to find your entire trouser leg soaked with blood and a small, circular, fleshy wound. "But the worst came w-when Aegon and Aemond rode into battle on Sunfyre and Vhagar."

"No," Corlys shook his head.

You swallowed, "The Princess Rhaenys and I strategized best we could and took them on. It was in vain, I'm afraid, because in the end, despite grounding Sunfyre and injuring Aegon, Meleys laid dead w-with your wife." You decided he didn't need to know about your final moments with her. "I could not retrieve them because of the boys... But I know Rhaenys and Meleys to both be dead, and I should be, too..."

"No," he swallowed, pulling you in for a tight hug. "No, no, you are here and exactly where you need to be. I am so relieved you are all right. Y-You need a Maester, sweets. Come."

"I really need a hug," you whispered, feeling his arms tighten. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect her, Grandfather. I'm so sorry for this loss."

"It is not your fault."

Slowly, you both started to let tears loose in gut-curling sobs but it was short lived. You were directed into a chair so your wounds could be cleaned (learning you also had a broken femur and a few shattered ribs, plus a broken collarbone), watching your Grandfather rage at your mother.

The Maester checked the babe first, and you never noticed the curious look on his face.

Corlys blamed Rhaenyra for Rhaenys' death and cited that it should have been Rhaenyra and Jace on the frontlines - that you, as a pregnant woman, should never have gone, and that this was not his wife's war no matter how your mother tried to spin it.

You did not know how it ended because you were escorted to the healing rooms - and the Maester put you on bed rest until your babe was born.

You grew annoyed the longer you laid there, appreciating the visitors that came to pass, and only learning of rumors. Apparently, following the battle, Aemond and Cole had taken Rook's Rest and brought back to King's Landing both Lord Stauton's head, and that of Meleys.

You felt angry at the desecration of the dead dragon, but knew the Targaryens often saved the heads of the mightier dragons to worship their skulls; a constant reminder to never forget. However, this time, the head was used to inspire the smallfolk of the city; where the head of the Red Queen inspired both fear and admiration for their Protector of the Realm, Aemond Targaryen.

[ part two ]

[ alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion ]

[ series masterlist ]

[rocorambles]

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

[demongemz]

bejcwcled​:

“ah i’m sorry that’s happened to you. yeah i don’t like most of them either and not just because of the whole mortal enemy thing. i suppose i could. what would you like to know?” talking about aziraphale was easier than talking about themself. they could easily go on for hours if given the chance to. “on another person? you know someone else with eyes like mine. i thought- well it doesn’t matter what i thought.” they shook their head. the man likely wouldn’t care to hear their sob story and they weren’t really in the mood to tell it. “that’s fascinating. i can’t believe i’ve been around for so long and didn’t know about beings like you.” maybe they did need to get out more. if there were warlocks and part angel beings here who knows what other kinds of creatures crowley could run into. it would certainly break up the monotony of looking for and failing to find aziraphale. “i didn’t realize we could- er they could reproduce. supposedly? do they not do a very good job of it? or perhaps they’re not a good judge of what’s evil?”

“uh i’m not really a people person. i wouldn’t do good selling things to people.” well they probably could if they tried. it’s just another form of tempting them right? but they didn’t really want to. they didn’t want to have anything that could take up time that they could be spending with aziraphale when they finally found him. when magnus failed to answer their question they weren’t sure how to feel. did the lack of an answer mean he was ashamed? was he ashamed of them? they didn’t think they had any children but the eyes comment. besides they didn’t know any other demon with eyes like their own. “nothing wrong with being unholy. holiness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” they couldn’t help but start to get defensive. they nodded and accepted the handkerchief putting it back in their pocket. “your parents- i-” crowley sighed and shook their head unable to find the right words. “even after all these years humans still manage to amaze me with their cruelty. i’m sorry you had to go through that. if i had known i would have… i’d have protected you.” maybe if they apologized magnus wouldn’t feel as ashamed of them. “i think you’re lucky to have found him. i don’t show mine regularly either not since sunglasses were invented. i know how special it is for them to be complimented.” they had almost forgotten what they had originally come for. they had gotten so caught up in magnus’ story. they stared at the slip of paper dumbfounded for a few moments. “uh thank you.” @demongemz

“C'est La Vie, as they say, everyone has their bridges to overcome, mine has always been too much for one species to handle. Anything you’d be willing to share, what type of hobbies do they enjoy taking part in? Or how you two became such close friends?” Magnus was curious If anything it sounded like an interesting story of how the two became close but he wouldn’t push after all the other didn’t owe him anything. “In all your life you’ve never seen another to bare your eyes?” he asked curiously the demon had been to Edom that much was certain but to have never come across another with cat-like eyes must have meant his father didn’t exist in that world. He didn’t really know but smiled softly “Yes, and I’m set to be around even longer, I’m immortal, I’m not surprised, not many demons or angels should be procreating with humans.” He mused before chuckling softly “Really? Well, it’s nice to see that everyone can learn something new each day. A lot of them think they are a good judge of what’s evil but then again they also thought everyone with dirty blood was around just for them to keep in line. Alexander has made so many changes in these last years where things aren’t so bad for us downworlders but it was a long time coming if honest.”

“Really? Well lucky for you people are my personality, I enjoy talking to people every chance I get, but then again, it's always best to learn a person’s intentions quickly rather than later at a more inconvenient time” Magnus mused telling the other about his past had been something he hadn’t expected, something about Crowley had him opening up in ways he hadn’t done in years. Maybe it was their shared eyes or maybe something even deeper “Tell me about, what did it matter where I came from, I wasn’t some horrible cruel thing, I was his son until my eyes changed…yet he turned on me the moment I showed myself different” he mused looking at the other for a moment he hadn’t expected their answers if he was honest. “Those experiences molded me into the person I am…though I would’ve loved to have seen your protection, I assure you I was quite the cute kid” he teased before his face fell once more his fingers going towards his wedding ring where at one point it would’ve lifted the weight off her heart but now it seemed as a tightening cord to someone who no longer remembered him. “I was lucky…he doesn’t remember me here anymore, all those years and kind words seemed to exist only in my memory. But listen to me prattling on like some hopeless fool, You can always be free to show your eyes around here, might even get me to reveal mine more often, after all, glamours take so much out of a person.” he mused smiling softly “you’re welcome, sorry to have bored you with my troubled life but I hope your reunion with your friend goes well.” @bejcwcled​

[bemylord]

ꜱ/ᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ

characters: satoru, itadori, megumi, toji, nanamin, sukuna.

warnings: it's not an angst, but it has triggers because they screamed at you :( [toji and sukuna parts bc yall know those man] + grammar issues. [aged up?]

butler's remark: it was hard to write yuuji, megumi and gojou parts bc they are good and sweet boys and i practically cry. i also had decided to do as a hdc not in the fake text. i did a reader with a strong character.

apologies part.

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴜᴊɪ:

pls no. i can't even imagine that yuuji would scream to you or say you're bothering him.

but, okay, that's why you're reading this.

you just wanted a piece, a little bit, some, of yuuji's attention while he was training.

you came to him from behind, wrapping hands around his neck.

you were happy to finally see and hug your boyfriend, planning to spend an evening watching some tv-shows.

suddenly, yuuji turned to you, and instead of the usual: 'sweetie, i'm so happy to see you let's watch the tv or eat ramen!'

he answered: 'i'm busy, y/n, let's talk later.'

being busy by doing something is totally normal.

but he could at least said you not cold as that. he turned around his body, continuing to do the same thing.

'but i missed you, yuuujiii~' you stretched out [?] his name in a smile, clinging to his shoulders again.

'can you not being clingy y/n, i'm trying to train. give me some space, you're starting to annoy me!'

you were standing there with doe eyes - he had never screamed at you.

'yeah? whatever, itadori. i'm gonna cuddle with megumi-kun, good training.'

you left the room with tears in the corner of your eyes. you'll give the space that yuuji had mentioned - you won't be talking with him for some days or weeks, therefore he'll know he should watch his mouth. [to follow what he says]

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ:

he came back to the dorm late after training with satoru.

you, being the lovely girlfriend ever, wanted to help megumi: you filled the bathtub with water, made delicious dinner, and find a good movie to watch after bath. maybe, it isn't a romantic thing, but it'll help him to release the tension in the muscle.

'megumi, you finally here!' you had green your boyfriend with a warm hug, as you always do, cupped his face to kiss him.

you were about to give a kiss, when 'gumi intercepted your hands, looking at you tiredly.

'how was the train? you must be tired, that's why i made for you bath and dinner.'

you walked into the living room as you heard him muttering.

'you always being so annoying and so mommy [i mean, hyper custody], i am not a child, y/n, i can help myself.'

'gomen-gomen, megumi, i just wanted to help you relax.'

'stop being like that! that's annoying, i'll take a bath alone, without you.'

you saw bruises and abrasions on his face - he must be angry about that. you have known how megumi hates to be beaten gojou or todou.

you decided not to answer, only waiting till his fury will calm down and he will apologize.

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ:

i want to confess right away - i'm already afraid of him.

toji should be about to return home from a mission any minute now.

you had baked apple pie and made dinner, anticipating for your husband to arrive.

you only overheard heavy footsteps in the living room, immediately run to see him.

'my love, you back home.' you were about to kiss him, when he turned his head, pronouncing:

'don't touch me.'

his obnoxious nature. over the years of living with him you have taught him to be more gentle with you.

'use better words, toji.'

'i will talk to you as i want, woman. the fact you are my wife doesn't mean i'll be docile.'

'don't talk to me like that, i'm yo-'

'shut up, you're just a wife who comes when i need her. don't exalt yourself. don't be clingy.'

notwithstanding your strong character, tears start to roll down on cheeks.

'i have no intention of being your servant, toji. find another 'wife', i'm leaving.'

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ:

as you know, gojou satoru is a playful guy, who wants to tease you like 24/7.

you never thought that gojou would scream at you due to you being clingy. it happened, tho.

you are basically just like him, naughty and agile, waiting for him after work so you could take gojou in your arms and kiss him.

when you heard as the door opened, you ran to hug him. however, when you were anticipating to him to do the same, he uttered: 'let go of me.'

you thought he wanted to hug you first, so you've wrapped your arms around your neck tighter.

'did i not make myself clear? get off me. you being so clingy and intrusive.'

'i missed you, 'toru.'

'we see each other every single day, let me spend a few days alone, don't act like a child, stop being sticky'

when you heard the last word, you get off your boyfriend, watching as he slowly walking into the living room, not look at you.

'a few days alone? fine, gojo, whatever. all you want, i'm leaving.'

you grabbed your phone, leaving the house.

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ:

you had mentioned that you might be clingy or sticky, demanding a lot of attention, when you on the period.

he agreed, laughed at your words. 'i always be with you anywhen, angel.'

as silly as it may sound, you wrapped your arms on a pillow, which was smelling like him, imagining it was kento.

you heard as a door opened, cheerfully coming down to greet your boyfriend.

'welcome home, darling, i was waiting for you to have some.. cuddles!' you straighten arms on him, expecting kento hugs you.

'it seems as you need me only for that, y/n.'

'no, darling, of course not. how was your day? tell me while we're gonna have a bath.'

'that's what i'm talking about. can it be only one day when you stop being sticky like that? i'm tired from work i want to be alone.'

you were speechless. you mumbled something illegible, step backward.

'y-yeah, s-sure..'

you walk in the bathroom, hiding your tears from him. as soon as you found yourself in the room, you sob.

'he just tired. i-i won't cry.'

you let your boyfriend spend an evening on his own, trying not to cry.

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ:

disclaimer: the king was really mad today, exactly today when you wanted to cuddle him.

you came to his domain, happy and shine like the sun - you've moved up in the ranks, isn't that a success?

you baked muffins, the kind that the king likes - with chocolate, and garnished with nuts on top. [it's only my opinion]

so, when you stood in front of a pile of skulls, sukuna unexpectedly said: 'you should leave. now.'

'huh?' you turned your head on the left, in a curious gesture, waiting for him to explain.

you did a step forward, thought you misunderstood him.

he didn't even look at you, sitting on the throne like you ain't here like you're sort of a slave, not a girlfriend.

'i've got so good news, sukuna. the first i had baked muff-'

before you could've finished the sentence, he used cursed energy to stop you, knocking the treats out of your hands.

'i fucking said you to leave my domain, woman. are you that stupid? and stop being clingy, it's irritating me.'

you knew his nature, you knew he might indicate something offensive, but, that one - above hurtful.

'what's wrong, the king?' you said his position mockingly, going down the skulls, looking at his back. 'go to hell, i'll tell it itadori. be here alone, sukuna.'

well, shall i do a part two with apologies? also sorry for kinda sad post.

[?] - pls corrent me if i used the wrong word.

↳ back to the main master list.

[libby-is-a-idoit]

Ming X kid reader

PART THREE BABY!!

-description-

Mei and y/n have a conversation that makes both of them close together again.. while the lee family is getting ready for the red moon ritual y/n must find away to get close to her family again..but after Ming's red panda is released..who knows if anything can be saved..

-warnings-

Uhhhh you know..I'm not sure..but,uh yeah!!

-disclamer!- I'm pretty sure this is the last part..so,by all means..here is part one and two!!! Thank you all for the amazing support..this has to be one of the best moments in any of my writing history!! <33

1) https://libby-is-a-idoit.tumblr.com/post/679556122208878592/ming-x-kidreader-description-you-are-mei

2)https://libby-is-a-idoit.tumblr.com/post/679736517598609408/libby-is-a-idoit

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

I'm sorry mom..

Soft knocks were at your door.. you looked up to see Mei Mei at your door,she looked sad..almost like she was about to cry, "can I come in?" She asked rubbing the back of her neck "as long as your not gonna yell at me..I'm so sick of it.." you said softly not having much voice to talk, Mei Mei walked and sat down in your desk chair facing you "you know y/n..I never ment what I said to you.." she said looking embarrassed at her past fights with you.. "your my sister/brother..and I'm your sister..were supposed to be here for each other..but I was just really frustrated..and I'm sorry.." she said as her eyes became to become glossy with tears.

"Mei Mei.." you said moving up towards her..not by much..but enough to know you trusted her.. "I'm not gonna do the ritual." She said looking up at you "what??!!" You said shocked at her words "I know the pandas dangerous but it's apart of me now,I love my panda..it's who I am..it's just..mother and grandma will be so disappointed.." she said looking down in udder sadness,sure Mei had a fear of disappointment, especially to our mom,but she needed to start thinking for herself..and if that ment living with the panda then so be it.

"mom found me sneaking out tonight..I was just at Tyler's party, having fun you know.. everyone was,I didn't even hurt anyone..well..kinda.." she said softly as you could hear the lump in her throat "I fucked up my friendship with everyone,I loved my friends,but I couldn't disappoint mom.." she said now crying "then all I thought of was you y/n..you tried so hard,but never made it good enough,but here I am, perfect little Mei Mei,I see why you have a thing agents mom..." She said,her words barely not making sense due to her crying "I just..I just wanna be like you y/n..not perfect,not getting made fun of by people, doing good in the things you want to do, having fun in school.." she said looking up at you,you shocked and a tad bit angery you understood what she was saying,but you always wanted to be her.."Mei,I hate myself,I wanna have mom say she's proud of me,I wanna be smart and not struggle,sure I have some popularity in school,but not enough to be known by it,I always wanted to be you,small group of friends who love me for who I am,good at everything,and anything,I have never been good enough for mom..and that's why..that's why she goes hard on you, because one of us has to be perfect.." you said looking at her and saying what you always wanted to say,Mei Mei looked at you now sobbing,face red,you started to cry as well,her panda form came out as you went up to her and gave her a hug,she hugged you back, something siblings did,but somehow you to grew apart and never really did.. "what are you gonna tell mom about the whole panda thing..?" You said pulling away and looking at her "I'm not,I'm gonna go through with it,but I'm just not getting rid of it,I'll pretend, and then after that,I'm gonna go to the skydome" she said softly at the last part, fearing to be heard "why their?" You asked, actually confused why she would go to the skydome out of all places "4*town duh!" She said smiling "really-" you said now looking at her sarcastically as she laughed,she proofed and went back to her normal self "then meilin lee I might have to tag along with you" you said smiling and laughing "oh no y/n lee you can't you said you'd rather lick the Walmart floor then see them in real life " she said laughing at her words as you did as well,you secretly liked 4*town,but for your sister to know that, would be embarrassing.

"I'm gonna head to bed..I'm tired,I cried alot today.." you said yawing in your words "ah fair enough,I'm gonna go read,or draw or something,I don't wanna sleep-" she said laughing softly,she got up and walked to the door of your bedroom and opend the door "night y/n..love ya" she said looking back "night night Mei Mei..love ya to" you said smiling at her as she left and closed your door..

~~~~~~~~~~~~the night of the red moon~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jim clear the table!" Grandma yelled at dad who was busy off looking at something,you were helping Mei Mei get ready, "are you sure about this?" You said tying the piece of fabric that would hold everything together "y/n,I know what I'm doing! Trust me.." she said looking at you from the mirror she stood in front of "you scared..?" You asked fixing her hair "oh I'm terrified..but,it's what I want.." she said putting a flower in her hair "I gotta leave the room now,mom said I can't be in the room with you just incase I basically mind control you or something" you said putting your hands on mei's shoulders and smiling "oh dear god" she said laughing at your words,she turned around and hugged you "I wish you luck Mei Mei,if you get nervous,just find me,I'll be watching"you said hugging her back "I know y/n,now run before she sees you!" Mei said laughing as you quickly left you walked down the hallway as your mother gave you a horrible glare "stay away for meilin, Tonight can't go bad!"she said yelling at you "I know,I'm staying in the house so I don't screw up your night that much go perfect" you said spitting poison at her as you walked to the living room.

She looked at you but said nothing,and went to Mei's room, after everyone left the house,you snuck out to go see it,you were not supposed to be there but you said in the back knowing no one could see you,Ming would kill you if she saw you watching the ritual,you watched as the circle started to glow and Mei started to float up in the air,she locked eyes with you,she looked scared,but knew what to do..you gave a thumbs up as she looked like she had been knocked out.

5 minutes..5 minutes is all it took..pink smoke went everywhere and everyone was coughing due to it "wha..what happened??!!" Grandma said sitting up and rushing towards Mei Mei "it's ok meilin we can do it again,places everyone!!" Ming said scared and worried out of her mind,"no!" Mei said pulling away from everyone to the middle of the road.."I'm going to the concert! Y/n let's go!" Mei Mei yelled as you rushed out of your hiding spot and you both ran,but before you could run,Ming grabed ahold of your arm "what do you think your doing??!! You messed this all up!!" She said yelling at you,you tugged but it didn't work,"I'm doing something that a good sister would do!" You yelled and pushed your mom to the ground,she let go as you ran to catch up to Mei Mei,it was a struggle getting in to the skydome with you but you manage to figure it out,you both fell to where mei's friends were standing,you had only met them a couple times,they liked you,but also saw you as another little perfect lee, "what are you doing here!??" Priya said looking at the two of you "what about the ritual??" Abby said shocked "I couldn't do it,the panda is who I am..and so are you guys!" Mei said walking to towards them as Miriam walked backwards "well you did,so to bad!" She said as mei's tamagotchi could be heard "Mri don't try and hide it,you miss Mei,you've been taking care of that thing like it's your child,just own it!" Abby said violently "I..Uhm..here" Miriam said taking mei's tamagotchi out of her pocket and giving it back to her, "4*town.. forever?" Mei said softly "4*town forever.." the three of them said hugging Mei as you stayed to the side, you turned around to see..they one and only.."Tyler??!!" You shouted pointing at him as the group looked up and saw her "Tyler??!! Who's Tyler?!!" He said trying to hide himself as the group pulled him in and asked him so many questions.

Soon what could be seen on the big ass screen was a countdown getting ready for the band to show up,we all moved towards the stage to see the band rise from cages,we were all crying as they introduced themselves and started to sing,it only got better as they magically got wings are flew out towards the crowd,the 6 of us started to move closer,Mei tried to get closer to touch one of the members hands but unfortunately,their just so happened to be the worlds largest red panda standing outside looking through the roof "Mei Mei! Y/n!!" She yelled "mom??!!" You and Mei said at the same time looking at each other and Ming saw both of you and broke the roof,the poor band was just stuck in the air as this huge PANDA was looking for the two kids in the audience you ran but Mei was caught, fortunately tho she could turn in to a panda,you couldn't and you needed to get away,like now.

You hid behind a broken area that no one could see,Ming was having a fight with Mei as your father and auntie's AND grandma ran in to the skydome to help,they all went to their places as your father started making a big ass circle out of chalk to do the ritual mei's job was to distract Ming and keep her in the circle that ment Mei Mei could do what ever she wanted and she did,she started dancing and then started shaking her booty like their was no tomorrow you yelled from your place you were hiding "YES GET IT MEI MEI!! SHAKE THAT ASS!!" you yelled as you stayed where you were,you couldn't defend yourself,Mei kinda could,but after a few seconds your mom fell to the ground, basically being knocked out.. you watched as Mei tried to pull mom in to the circle, you rushed out to help,their wasn't much you could do,but you needed to help.. soon before you new it basically all your family and turned in to the panda, pulling and singing..not knowing what to do you tried to sing along but then mei's group started singing nobody like you,and one moment two groups were singing,but one thing led to another..and the band,who basically had just been tortured due to the giant panda you looked up as you and Mei started to tear up it didn't take long before somehow everything went white..

You were in this bamboo Forest..lost,not knowing what to do..you just started to walk.. to where,you didn't know,but,you did..before you knew it,you saw your grandmother and auntie's waiting at this big window, everyone had red hair.. except you.. everyone had a panda.. except you..you got weird stairs considering you didn't know how exactly you got there but you managed to get there soon before you knew it mom and Mei walked towards the group on women and yourself,..Ming was crying,and Mei was comforting her.. Mei let go and moved to your side..Ming and her mom hugged,Ming apologized but grandma just said..I'm your mom..don't apologize..Ming pulled back and saw you..she looked at you with sad eyes.."y/n.." she said walking towards you ,you did as well, you pulled her in for a hug.. "I'm so sorry y/n..I'm so sorry for what I did...I never ment to hurt you like this.." she said crying as she spoke,it didn't take long before you did as well.. "mom..I'm so sorry for what I said..but I think we should apologize after.." you said pulling away and pointing to the red moon that was almost gone,you and her both walked through,you watched as her panda flew away..when you walked in..their was nothing...

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

Hi,I'm y/n lee,and my life up until last month was so crazy!! First,my twin sister Mei turned in to a panda! Then she started rebelling against our crazy mom,oh yeah,mom,me and her have always been..well we have never had a good relationships to say the least.. but after Mei Mei turned,she started to grow closer to me,to the say the least,some ugly words were exchanged, and a big fight that happened!! Everyone calls it panda apocalypse 2002 but,we all just call it growing pains..

Mei Mei was able to become herself..sure,she still had better marks them you,but eh that's ok,mom started to finally except that you're not meilin no matter how hard she trys..but she knows that you are who you are..and she loves you no matter what,and for you and Mei Mei? Well the both of you couldn't be closer! You slowly started to hangout with her group of friends,and they loved you, especially Priya,you two were very close,due to your love of books!!

Sometimes you wished things went back to normal..but you also knew that you had trauma to get through and so did ming..

But you finally started to be happy once again...

[funnyexel]

Beauty Lies With You, My Flower

(Safin x Black Female Reader)

A/n: 7 Months Later….the long wait is finally over, part two has arrived! I have zero excuses for not posting other than writers block on a toe-gripping story, thats due to drop very soon.

Masterlist Mega List

Part 1 - Just in case you forgot

Through her sobs and small cries she felt comfort, oddly so. After her parents died she had the equivalent of no one. Her siblings were with her but they had this ridiculous idea that she killed them. Causing her to grow up early and become hyper independent. It had it’s pros and cons, at most times its cons out weighting the pros. He watched from a far as she conversed with her family. He knew it wouldn’t end well but who is he to stop her. They shared the same perspective on this topic as they did on other things. That didn’t stop him from feeling confused as to why she still went. Maybe it was hope, guilt, or just for fun. The sky slowly began to darken and he refused to leave you alone. Leaving his car, he walks over to where you were seated and sat next to you. No one could really see you both because of the trees and plants surrounding the area.

The light sobs he hears, shocks him. It may have been stupid but he thought you just had your head down. He wouldn’t think that you’d be trying to hide your tears. Sitting there with his hands rubbing his knees, he was stuck. He was not the person to come to for comfort. Feeling a hand lightly caressing your back, you glance and see its him. Sniffling and sucking up your tears, you lift your head a little. “am I that interesting that you keep following me?” You wipe the tears off your face, with the back of your hand. Peeking over, a small curve forms on the corner of his lips. “you’re like my personal stalker.” You take a deep breath and sit up straight. “Dear, why do you keep letting the world knock you down.” He asks and you turn to him. “I…I don’t know.” You hesitate, shrugging. “Let me take you away.” Your eyes widen at his words. “what do you mean? I can’t just…” You look into his eyes and lose all train of thought. “Leave?” You nod to him.

“I barely know you.” You give a small smile. “But I know you. I’ve known you for a longtime. I know your habits better than you do. I might even know you better than you know yourself.” You didn’t want to test his words, he already found his way into your apartment effortlessly. “lets say, I agree, I’ll let you take me away. what will you do when you have me?” His hand goes a little lower on your back and your heart rate spikes. “What makes you think I don’t have you right now.” He exclaims in a low tone. “please answer the hypothetical.” You laugh him off slightly, knowing deep down that he already has you. “I’ll give you everything you ever wanted in life. You name it and it’s yours.” He fixes the collar of his coat, taking his hand off your back. “sounds good but I know you must want something in return.” You fold your hands in your lap. “Smart girl.” He compliments you and you are practically fuming. He might as well take you away if he keeps this up. “I want you.” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Your mind. Your body. Your love.” He leans in a bit closer, he sees that you’re clearly becoming more and more nervous. “I still don’t know why you are so interested with me.” You look down to your hands, distracting yourself. Using his finger to tilt your head back up, he looks you in the eyes. Your lashes batting at the attention and pupils wondering over his face. It mimicked cracked porcelain, once beautiful in its own reflection but now different to its prior image. Your soft palm held his cheek, not longer than a moment as he pulled your hand away. In the brief moment, his skin felt cold against yours. The clash of warm and cold, made a spark between the two of you. Honestly, you didn’t realize what you did until you looked at his hand gripping your wrist. “sorry.” If not for complete silence, he wouldn’t have heard you.

Its hard to understand whats gotten over you. Might be childhood trauma and longing or the bliss of the moment but you couldn’t help being in his space. He stood there, frozen. In his mind, he assumed you thought he was hideous, every time you hesitated before talking to him and pushed him away. Everyone does, so its odd that you don’t. You’re not even bothered, you were the first person that tried to touch him in years. It was truly a reflex when he tugged at your wrist. He heard your whisper but it never processed. Turning his gaze to your limb, he slowly moves it closer to his face. Until that spark hits you both again as you touch. He closes his eyes, his hand holding your wrist still, to make sure you don’t move your hand. Flustered as you watch his subtle actions. You couldn’t get over how handsome he was, not when he entered the shop or your apartment and definitely not now. Not when he’s so close.

What does this mean? You thought. What will I do now? Will I go with him? The panic was real as you asked yourself rhetorical questions. Subconsciously distracting your mind from him. “I’ll treat you how you were always meant to be treated.” His sentence seems unfinished, so you waited for his next words. ”Like a princess.” His words, a trigger word, he said. It repeated in your mind over and over again. It made you smile, the memory, a memory of happiness, of innocence with your parents. A word, a simple used word that made you trust him. Although, it may be stupid, its not your first.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |