#really wanted to write a bit of their interaction and smooth over some of the minor bits of minsc's bg3 intro that bothered me

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira rubs a cloth from her pack slowly along the sleek blade of one of her scimitars and examines its edge with an appraising eye. For a little while she pretends to ignore the small shape creeping around the edge of the fire towards her, but eventually Boo is sitting almost at her knee and she gives the hamster a sidelong glance.

"What is it then, small one?" she says dryly, the pale green pulse of an animal speech spell flaring around her body.

Boo perches up on his back legs and peers up at her with that beady, unreadable stare. Jaheira looks back thoughtfully, raising one eyebrow.

She reflects, not for the first time, that for all that Minsc often seems mad, it is hard to ignore that there is something about the little beast that is more than bestial. The little dark eyes shine with intelligence, and he is the only creature she has ever attempted to speak to with aid of magic that has deliberately not deigned to speak back.

And it is no different today. Boo ignores the spell and simply squeaks once, loudly, then turns and looks back across the fire towards the bedrolls of the camp. Jaheira follows his gaze, and has to resist the urge to smile. Minsc is peering around the edge of one of the tents with an air of stealth that would be more appropriate if he were about half the size that he is.

She has not spoken to him since their argument when they first arrived back from the sewers, and though Boo offers no words, the message is clear. You have grieved him. Will you not clear the air?

"He does not need to hide," she tells Boo softly. "You may tell him so."

Boo squeaks again and scurries off into the shadows.

She returns to the care of her weapons and does not look up when she hears the Rashemaar's heavy footfalls at her side.

"May Minsc sit?" he rumbles.

She smiles slightly. "You feel you must ask permission?"

He drops down at her side and stares into the slowly dying flames. A silence stretches for a few moments before he says haltingly, "I still do not understand all of your anger, Jaheira. But if Minsc has given offense, then he shall not rest until the offense is eased." A pause. "Minsc has lost too many witches. He does not want to lose you."

Jaheira draws a slow breath, lets it out heavily. "You have not lost me, Minsc," she says quietly. "It was I who almost lost you." She frowns. "And I have also lost too much to suffer that lightly."

Minsc looks at her sideways. "But you will not be my Wychlaran," he says. It is not a question, just a flat, tired statement of fact.

She sighs. "Minsc... do you think I did not listen when you spoke to Dynaheir, to Aerie? It was a bond of trust, entered into willingly by both sides. You cannot claim me in such a bond without my knowledge." A pause. "If you wished a place at my side, you should have asked me. Not claimed space within me like a conqueror."

He considers that in silence. "Jaheira, as always, speaks more wisely than Minsc can even think," he agrees after a little while. His mouth draws into a tight line. Then, in a very low voice, he adds, "Minsc has been afraid."

At that, she does lift her head away from her attention on the blades and looks at him directly for the first time. She knows Minsc well enough to know that this is an admission he would make to no one else.

"So many things have changed, Jaheira. I do not remember my time as a stone, for to Minsc it passed like lightning, like a blink - something and then nothing, and then something again but with more itching. Itching and loneliness. Had I a witch she would have soothed both. But I had none... Dynaheir was dead many a long year, and Aerie so far away that Minsc might never see her again..."

She nods slowly. She still remembers the keen, biting emptiness in her chest in the days after Khalid's death - the knowledge that she had been hurt beyond measure and that the one who would have eased the pain was beyond her reach. "You had only me."

"Yes," he answers, and a little more energy comes back into his voice. "And it seemed to Minsc that you must be my new witch, for you were the only one I trusted so, and a Rashemaar without his witch is like Boo without a bit of grain - quite empty." A pause. "Minsc forgot that for Minsc to have a witch, the witch must also have Minsc."

Jaheira smiles slightly and reaches over to rest a hand lightly on his knee. "I will not call myself Wychlaran - but you have me at your side, no matter the name, Minsc," she says quietly. "I did not travel yet again through the Baldurian sewer muck simply to toss you away."

His shoulders relax a little and she can see the slight curve of his lips back into his more accustomed smile. "Good. Minsc is glad to hear it," he says quietly.

For a little while, they sit in companionable silence, watching as the flames slowly drift lower and lower. Boo crawls back out of the shadows, dragging a carrot from the camp supply sack larger than he is; settling between them, he begins to gnaw contentedly on his prize. Jaheira begins to feel some of the tension that has been her constant companion for so many months beginning to bleed away. So much danger still lies ahead... but her friend, at least, is safe again, and that makes such a tremendous difference. He is not one of those she has lost, not yet.

"So," Minsc says abruptly after a little while. "This new monk you travel with. Hector. Tell me of him."

Jaheira stirs, jarred loose from reverie, and has to take a moment to collect her thoughts enough to answer. "A good man, I think," she says slowly after a little while. "He has seen as much in a few months as we did in all our time in Amn, and still stands as straight as he did the day I met him."

Minsc nods. "Minsc sees Rasaad in him," he says gravely.

Jaheira says nothing for a moment. Then she nods. "He has much the same temperament. He says little and sees much. Even when we were closest, Rasaad often said little of what was in his heart, and I think Hector also holds much he does not reveal."

"And he is not quick to catch a joke," Minsc points out with a sudden broad grin. "He said to Minsc that the bond of a Wychlaran sounded only like friendship. At that Minsc laughed, for such a thing should be laughed at, and said that by such a thought, the whole camp is full of my Wychlarans! But the monk did not laugh in turn; Minsc is not sure he saw the jest."

Jaheira grins crookedly. "Perhaps he did not. Certainly that was also a failing in Rasaad at times; perhaps Selunites are not trained in the art of humor." A long pause. "But I like him, Minsc. He is brave in spite of great fear - and good reason for it. He loves fiercely, friend and lover alike. He kills doppelgangers with only his fists. And there are shades of Caden in him, too; I think he would be kind even though it killed him."

Minsc squares his shoulders stoutly. "Then Minsc and Boo shall see to it that it does not kill him, for they shall kick the butts of all by his side." Boo lifts his head, his cheeks fat with a great mouthful of carrot, and gives a muffled squeak.

Jaheira chuckles. "He is in good hands indeed, then."

"Hands and paws," Minsc amends with a wide grin.

"Of course," she says, and grins back. "How could I forget?"

[azrielbrainrot]

Moonlit Shadows - Act I

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: When tasked to find the once famed Temple of the Moon Goddess, Azriel only expected to find old, forgotten ruins if anything at all. He could have never imagined that not only would he find a temple but also someone who would change his life forever.

Tropes/Tags: Star Crossed Lovers (in a way), Forbidden Romance (kinda), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, some Angst with a Happy Ending

Warnings: a bit of angst

Word Count: 12,4k

Rating: 18+ (this part is actually kinda chill)

Notes: Just as a warning (?) reader has white hair and white silvery eyes in this story but those are the only physical descriptions I will make, they're kind of part of her magic. Also when I started writing this I totally intended on it being a one-shot but the story got away from me and I decided to split it up into 3 parts. I really hope you enjoy!

You've been pacing in front of the temple's door ever since the sun set over the mountain, the warm rays slowly being replaced with the brilliant pale moonlight. You keep wringing your hands together and smoothing down any possible wrinkle on your dress, repositioning the diadem perched on your head to make sure it sits perfectly. It's not often you get visitors up in the temple, let alone any your Goddess went out of Her way to warn you about and gave clear instructions to help in any way you could. You can't quite distinguish if the anxiety building inside you is the result of excitement or wariness - possibly a healthy dose of both.

The last time someone climbed these steps had been almost a full decade ago. It was a quite short affair as well since the visitor only needed a book long forgotten in the temple's library. You'd read it multiple times before, and offered it without hesitation, prompting the traveler to thank you and immediately start descending the mountain, going on his way all the while muttering about finally having all the knowledge he needed to achieve his goal. That small interaction served as a reminder of your purpose in this temple, filled you with a sense of accomplishment you usually felt in such situations, but you've been alone in between these walls since then.

After almost four centuries you're more than used to the quiet, to the way your steps echoe in the grand empty space. The loneliness had been a more prominent companion, but even that had come and gone throughout the years. You had no place in the world, nor family or friends waiting for you anymore. All you had left was your duty to the temple. But you're still only fae and the longing for some company catches up to you every once in a while. At times you think you only want the reminder that you're still alive.

There wasn't much to do around the temple either, it magically gave you food and kept itself clean so you didn't even need to bother with that. You could recite every book in the library at this point and you found you weren't the best artist as you tried your hand at painting and sculpting, even music and dancing. The flowers around the temple seemed to grow effortlessly, not even needing you to tend to them either. Even keeping a journal proved inefficient as there was little to write down, the monotony of your life not interesting enough for such a thing. When tasked with guarding the temple, you would never have imagined boredom would end up being your biggest problem.

You still recall the day your hair started turning white and your eyes dulling, losing their color slowly until they turned into the silver, almost white color they were now, mirroring the moonlight. At first your parents thought it could be some disease or even a curse, they were scared for your health and safety beyond measure, but when the Goddess contacted you and sent you the amulet you now wear religiously around your neck, it guided you and your parents to this very temple hidden in the mountains of the Night Court. She then told you Herself what the fates had written for you, presenting you with an oath and sharing her power with you, making you the Keeper of the Moon Temple.

Everything had seemed impossible to believe at first, the time of the Gods had passed millenia ago, it was hard to find someone who could even name any of them anymore, you certainly couldn't at the time. So when you were told what your role in life was going to be you had been completely blindsided, not even knowing what to make of your new occupation, of being trusted with such an important task when you weren't even three decades old.

Truthfully, you expected at least a few people to show up every once in a while, asking for help or guidance. You even prepared yourself for there to be some threats to the temple, but things had been mostly peaceful and quiet, so quiet. You understand why guarding the temple is important, this type of knowledge and power can't ever fall into the wrong hands, the safety of the world depends on it, but sometimes you wonder what your life could have been like if you hadn't been chosen by fate to hold such a heavy burden by yourself.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you feel a presence approaching, used to feeling them pass by unannounced as the temple remains hidden in its protective spell. When it's clear this is the visitor the Goddess had warned you about, as they entered the wards seamlessly, you take a deep calming breath, adjusting the diadem one last time, and open the heavy doors, revealing the temple to the moonlight. As the stairs come into view, you step up to the threshold and clasp your hands together behind your back, waiting to be of help as your Goddess instructed you to.

Distractedly rehearsing your greeting, unused as it was, you almost miss the dark shadows swirling up the milky steps, passing by you and escaping to all corners of the temple before you have time to react. Your head snaps back to follow them, breaking the calming character you were falling into in preparation to fulfill your duty. Some of your power drips down to your fingertips, casting a white glow under your skin, as you study these shadows intently. Not finding any ill intent in them, as strange as they were, some of the tension leaves your body. They simply lay before you, more and more of these wispy shadows gathering together as they swirled around themselves, not paling even a fraction under the bright moonlight or your powers. Strange little things indeed.

You wonder for a moment if this was the visitor the Goddess had mentioned, not knowing what to make of it or how to approach such a situation. She had not specified if the visitor was fae, though you're not so sure how you would be able to help shadows. Before you could embarrass yourself in trying to speak to these creatures, the same presence you felt earlier makes itself known, much closer than before. Looking up at the starry sky, you find strong, dark wings carrying someone directly to the temple, a glimpse of blue shining over their dark form.

This was already the most interesting visitor you've ever had. You'd never had the pleasure of meeting any winged fae before, and, given their reaction to the fae approaching, you were confident the shadows were under their command. Those were definitely even rarer than winged fae - Shadowsingers, you remember them being called.

As they fly down closer to you and the temple, slowly letting the wind guide them, you feel a strange tug on your chest, and then another, this time strong enough that it makes you look down at yourself with furrowed eyebrows. Your confusion only deepens when you notice a bright string connected to your heart, raising your hand to try and touch it. Your fingers pass right through it, as if it wasn't there in the first place, and soon after you try catching it, the string disappears from sight.

You lay a hand down over your chest, feeling your heart beating under your palm. The string was invisible now, but you could still feel it tugging incessantly, as if urging you to look up. You follow its silent command, almost gasping out loud when you find the winged fae a lot closer than you had expected, catching him as he lands with a harsh tud on top of the steps, arms bracing out to maintain his balance as if he isn't quite used to landing yet. The shadows swirling at your feet rush to him, and a bewildered expression takes over his face, likely mirroring your own, as he stares at you, mouth agape.

Wide leathery wings stand behind him, open in a somewhat awkward angle as he stands frozen in place. As the moonlight filters through them you realize they're not quite black as they appeared before, the insides actually have a beautiful crimson hue to them. Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they keep cataloging his entire form, taking note of every detail as if it was crucial information. He was covered from head to toe in black leathers, you recognize it as an armor of sorts. It clung to his every muscle, showcasing them as much as it protected him from harm. You find the same blue light from before twinkling in the midst of all the black, studying it closer to find it came from gems scattered across his armor, you're almost certain they hold some of his magic somehow.

Moving up his neck, you find tan skin shining under the moonlight and black hair curling into his forehead softly, locks messy and a little damp from the flight. The stranger also had striking hazel eyes, and you find yourself struggling to not get lost in them, only bringing yourself to break eye contact when you notice the glittery string once more in the corner of your eye, only this time it's connected to his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat as you follow its path slowly, careful not to lose the thin thread once more, finding it leading back to your own heart. You feel another tug, prompting you to look back up at the male in front of you. A hand falls over your heart at the implication, right where you could feel the phantom string had tied itself. Yet another tug confirming your suspicions.

How could this be?

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Azriel wasn't expecting his evening to turn out like this when he was called to Rhys' office. While he knew there was going to be a mission of sorts, he never imagined it would involve a temple no one has ever heard of or a Goddess long forgotten. Even with Amren's knowledge and the old books she found corroborating her words, Azriel was still anticipating coming back to Velaris empty handed. He's flown over these same mountains at least a million times in the five centuries he's been alive, and never once has he noticed a temple or any signs of magic.

The woods under him looked completely untouched as far as he could tell, no one choosing to live so far from the neighboring towns, isolated between the trees and steep mountains. His shadows filtered through the woods in case he missed something from his high position, even if he thought this search was in vain, it didn't mean he wasn't going to give it his best to fulfill his High Lord's order. He felt almost naked without his shadows latching onto his body though, the single companion still perched on his shoulder in order to relay him information not giving him nearly enough coverage to feel at ease when he was so far from home.

Mission and discomfort aside, the wind felt heavenly hitting his skin on this warm summer evening. It had been a while since he was able to fly for this long without dreading his destination as it usually meant he was visiting the Illyrian mountains, the Hewn City or a much more gruesome mission than the one he found himself in at the moment. It also feels good to step away from the full houses he found himself in nowadays. As much as he loved his family, Azriel had always valued his alone time and it was getting harder to find himself completely alone in the midst of missions and the ever growing inner circle.

As he was flying over the edge of the mountain, Azriel was getting ready to make the trip back and throw a very satisfying “I told you so” at his brother's face when his shadows suddenly disappeared right before his eyes. The abruptness of it made him panic for a few seconds, clapping his wings so he was hovering in the same place and was able to study the space ahead of him, trying to feel for any type of ward or shield but coming up empty. He could still feel his shadows, and knew they were alright given how calm the remaining one was as it sat on his shoulder and simply urged him forward, as if confused why he had stopped in the first place.

Azriel trusted his shadows blindly, they had never steered him wrong after all, and so he did as he was told and slowly started moving forward once again. After living for five hundred years surrounded by magic, there isn't much that can surprise the shadowsinger, but he can safely say he's never seen anything like this. He felt his body pass through some sort of gateway, one that went unnoticed by him until now, and as he did his surroundings began changing as if they had only been a mirage before.

In between the trees a path carved in white stone could now be seen, glinting under the moonlight in complete contrast to the rest of the dark woods. As his eyes followed this path, going up stairs of the same stone carved into the side of the mountain, he found a white temple sitting right at the top. It wasn't a huge building by any means, but the white eerie glow it emitted made it impossible to miss had it not been the spell covering it - one that would make the one who kept Velaris safe for centuries pale in comparison - and keeping it hidden from the world and unwanted eyes.

Amren had been right after all, something that happens more often than he would ever care to admit. The Goddess of the Moon still had at least a temple left in this world, leaving it behind when She took to the sky. Not much is known about the old Gods, but Azriel, born and raised in the Night Court, felt himself relax as he looked up at the moon shining above him, not believing this Goddess could be anything but benevolent. She had watched him fly over from Velaris after all, it almost felt like he was guided here.

The entire temple was made of white stone - it appeared to be the same type of stones used for the path and stairs leading up to it, only more polished. There were silver highlights carved into the walls and columns, these glowed with an intensity Azriel had never seen. Most of the roof was a huge skylight, likely so the moon could illuminate Her temple and Her followers could bask in Her brilliant light.

Given the color scheme of the entire building, his shadows were easy enough to spot, which would have been a big problem had he decided on a more covert operation when coming to the temple, he was more than glad he came here in peace. His little companions seemed perfectly content as they swirled around and over themselves right in front of the temple's doors, a few steps from a figure completely clad in white.

Even after finding the temple where he had only seen trees and shrubs before, he couldn't help but feel even more surprised that there was someone inside it. A sudden spark of magic has the shadowsinger moving faster, a gasp catching in his throat when he sees bright, pale light coming from the figure's palms. Even this wasn't enough to send the shadows that would be at the receiving hand of it into alarm, something curious on its own as they were usually as suspicious and careful as their master.

Azriel was already within earshot when the person in front of him decided his shadows posed no threat and the white light disappeared from her hands. At first glance she might have looked like a regular high fae female, but there was a different kind of power flowing through her, as shown by the strange way this light magic manifested itself, something Azriel had never felt before.

Upon flying down closer, his feet almost touching the top of the steps in front of the temple, he realizes she had not been wearing a white hood or veil as he initially thought but her hair was completely white. There was an unnatural element to it as each strand shone under the moonlight, almost rivaling it in its intensity. The floor length dress she wore was of the same color, made of a light, breathable fabric, almost translucent in certain areas, swishing softly in the faint breeze. She had not looked up at him yet, seemingly intrigued as she watched her own chest. Perhaps looking at the pendant she wore around her neck, the magic coming from it could almost be seen in its intensity.

Azriel took this moment to take her in, not knowing what to say since he was the one possibly trespassing. She was absolutely gorgeous, truly mesmerizing in her beauty and demeanor. It was almost impossible to believe she was real, standing right in front of him and not a Goddess walking his dreams. For a moment Azriel wonders if this is truly the Goddess, if She never left the land of the mortals as it was once believed, instead keeping herself safely hidden in these uninhabited mountains, but when she looks up from her necklace, eyes falling on him for the first time, all thoughts evaporate from his mind. White, silvery eyes meet hazel and a sudden rush of inexplicable feelings hit him right in the chest, squeezing his heart tight and taking his breath away. It felt as if the world had broken apart and put itself together, as if everything finally made sense. The only thing he could make sense of was one word, swirling around in his mind and completely taking over every cell on his body. Mate. You were his mate.

In his stupor, Azriel forgets he was still up in the air, wings freezing along with the rest of his body and sending him falling towards the ground. Thankfully, he hadn't been too high up, and was still able to land on his feet, knees only buckling under his weight slightly as he steadied himself. This had to be the most ungraceful landing he's performed since his brothers were training him between giggles and harmless teasing when he first joined the Illyrian camps. If he wasn't so surprised and his brain was able to formulate a single thought, he would be cringing at the fact that you had just witnessed it, his mate had witnessed it.

It takes several moments before he starts catching on to the situation, the ringing in his ears subsiding and the rest of the world re-emerging around you. He hadn't even noticed his shadows had returned to him, ecstatic for their master finally found his equal. Azriel tries to school his features in an attempt to keep at least some dignity, in fear of coming on too strong as well, especially since it seemed you were in the same predicament as him, a curious but stunned expression locked in your beautiful face as you studied him. His stupid Illyrian senses make him flare out his wings a little before he has the chance to fully take control of his body. When your gaze finds his once more, his heart stalls in his chest before speeding up at an alarming rate. You haven't even spoken a single word to him, but his heart already sang for yours.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The oath you made before your Goddess rushes into your head as you study the handsome male in front of you. How could this be possible? The fates had decided your life lied within the temple long before you were born, so why give you a mate? A bond like this is extremely rare, you'd never seen one in your entire lifetime, albeit you lived isolated from the world for most of it. Still, this was something only a few were blessed with, a bond stronger than what mortal minds could even comprehend, so why waste it on you? Could the fates and the Mother be this cruel?

You can't even bring yourself to hope he didn't notice the brilliant bond forming between you - an angry twist pulling at your heartstrings when you dare to think of hiding it - considering the expression on his face and his silence, it seems he's already more than aware of it. All it took was a single glance and it had fallen into place for both of you.

In the midst of the rushing thoughts invading your brain, you try to remember what you've read about mating bonds. There was a book talking about them in the library, of this much you were sure, but its contents were evading your racing mind.

Gaze falling to the floor, trying to sober up from what you imagine to be one of the most intense occurrences anyone could go through, you almost miss the step he takes towards you. The surprise of it makes you flinch slightly, but it was enough for him to notice and take the same step back, wings coiling up tightly to his back and shadows moving to cover him almost completely, excitement wiped off his face and replaced with a hurt expression.

Your gaze falls on him once more, a self loathing feeling crawling up your throat and making you want to beg for his forgiveness on your knees at the thought that you put that expression on his face. This bond would take some getting used to, in what world would you kneel before a male you've just met. Still, you didn't want him to think he scared or even disgusted you in any way, mate or no mate, that was extremely rude.

You clear your throat softly, remembering the weight of your role in this temple and trying desperately to fall back into character, hoping the familiarity of your duties will bring your mind some peace and help you get through this moment.

“Forgive me, it isn't often that we get visitors,” his entire body tenses up even further at your words, but it relaxes as you keep speaking, “I welcome you to the last Temple of the Moon. I'm the keeper and sole habitant of this temple. I've been tasked to keep it safe from any possible threats, but also do my best to help anyone the Goddess deems worthy of being shown the way, just as you have been.”

You try not to look too long in his general direction in fear of getting lost in his eyes once more, but that's close to impossible when you're talking to him and he might be the most beautiful male you've ever encountered. Taking a step to the side, you hold out a hand towards the door, inviting him into the temple, something you should have already done.

He nods his head once after watching your outstretched arm for a moment longer, and then makes his way inside slowly. As he passes by, you can't help but breathe in his scent, it feels intoxicating and it takes every bit of strength in your body to not let your mind linger on how well it would smell mixed with yours, until you couldn't point out where one ended and the other began.

A gasp pulls you out of your betraying thoughts, a smile finding its way to your lips, knowing the sight was making him speechless. It always sparks a little pride in you when someone gazes upon the temple for the first time. Even after living here for centuries, this temple's beauty still takes your breath away. The entire floor was made of replandescent white stones, silver gems weave highlights into them, creating patterns across the entire room, maps of constellations and lunar phases, and giving it a particular glow of their own. They were illuminated by the giant skylight making up most of the ceiling, as to allow both the moon and sunlight to enter. You've tried identifying the materials used in this construction before but ended up coming up empty. It seems the precious stones and gems used no longer grew in this world, perhaps they never did.

At the far corner of the room there was an altar, one without statue or offering table, but an altar all the same. Even when She walked this world, your Goddess never accepted gifts or ever allowed anyone to replicate her image because even that could end up leaving traces of her power behind. The altar looks empty right now, and you catch yourself wishing he could be here to see it on a full moon, when the moon rays fall right over it and you can communicate with and receive any orders the Goddess might have for you. The entire room holds an even more intense glow during that night of the month as well, you're sure he would find it fascinating.

Making your way around him, careful not to step too close or accidentally touch his wings, you catch sight of his awe stricken face, tan skin glowing beautifully under the moonlight. A small, fond smile appears on his face when his gaze falls back on yours, and you almost curse the Mother for the challenge she just put in front of you. His beauty was truly otherworldly, it rivaled every shiny gem and stone in this room, maybe even the moon herself. How were you supposed to act normally knowing this was your mate?

“I've never seen anything like this before,” he admits softly, eyes never straying from yours. The sound of his voice makes you pause, it feels strangely familiar, like something you've been waiting to hear your entire life. There's a curious kind of magic around mating bonds, you don't know how it's possible for someone you've just met to already have so much power over you, even when you're trying your best to ignore him.

“I still find myself at a loss for words when gazing at this room as well,” you agree, wanting to cringe at the bashful expression you know has fallen over your face. Your plan of keeping a detached demeanor while fulfilling your duties was doomed from the start. You clasp your hands behind your back before continuing in what you hope is a professional voice. “The Goddess warned me of your arrival and left orders for me to help you in any way I can. If you tell me what you seek, I will give you what you came here for as long as it's within my abilities.”

His eyebrows furrow slightly at your words. “How did you know I was coming?”

“The Goddess knows more than us mortals will ever be able to grasp,” you explain as vaguely as possible while hopefully not raising any suspicions. There's not a single cell in your body that thinks he's untrustworthy, but they're incredibly biased, and the inner workings of your role as the Moon's keeper must be protected.

He seems satisfied enough with your answer, but there's a different kind of air about him now. As if remembering he doesn't know you, and has found himself at your mercy.

“You haven't told me what you came for,” you remind him. If you sit in silence for long your thoughts will start drifting again.

“Right,” he clears his throat, a pinkish tint covering the tips of his rounded ears. “I come on behalf of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.” Your eyebrows raise at this, not expecting him to be such an important person. “One of the High Lady's sisters has been turned into a seer recently, and given that she wasn't even born fae, these powers have proven extremely hard to control.”

You've heard the story of the human who saved the fae from the evil clutches of Amarantha, and her sisters who were tragically thrown in the cauldron by King Hybern and turned into fae against their will. Your Goddess had even told you one of the sisters vengefully stole her powers from the cauldron, and the other was gifted seer abilities. Given the circumstances in which this all went down, it's understandable that she has been having trouble controlling her powers. Being a seer is an exceptionally heavy burden, and she's still so young too.

“We have some books that might be able to help, both in controlling one's power and pulling an entranced fae out of any visions or dreams they've found themselves stuck in. Was that what you were hoping for?”

“Yes,” he admits, apparently relieved at having found what he was looking for, “We found texts mentioning the followers of the Moon Goddess often had prophetic dreams, and wrote entire manuals on how to navigate them. Since Elain wasn't born with these powers these books seemed perfect to help her, and so the High Lady sent me searching for them.” You nod, motioning for him to follow you as you turn and start walking to the library, already making a mental list of all the books that might help his friend.

Even lost in thought, you sense him stopping in his steps as you're walking down the corridor, overwhelmingly aware of his every move as you were. This prompts you to turn around and face him in question, only to find him watching you in amazement.

“You're breathtaking,” he blurts out before he can catch himself, making heat rush up your neck and settle over your entire face. He looks away embarrassed for a moment, one of his shadows crawling up his neck and over his ear, before looking back at you with a bashful look. “I'm sorry. I just- Is it normal for you to glow like this?”

This power has been a part of you for so long, you almost forget about the way your hair lights up in the dark, an aura surrounding you as well, giving you an overall ethereal glow. “Yes, I harness power from the moon and She glows so…” you trail off, biting your lip as he keeps studying you. “The library is right up ahead,” you add, turning your back to him once more so you can gather your thoughts for the nth time since he stepped foot into this temple.

As you navigate through the familiar rows of shelves your heart finally calms, easily picking up the pertinent books. You can't help but keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, not out of suspicion, but curiosity for his every reaction. He seems content with following after you as he watches the decorations and studies the books sitting on the shelves, not once asking you what you're giving him, simply carrying the books you hand him. It makes you wonder if he usually trusts everyone this easily or if it's something reserved for you.

When you hand him the last book, you move to the back of the room slowly, the place where you keep some important magical amulets and tools, waiting on any sign from the Goddess forbidding you from lending him any of them. He comes to stand beside you then, likely noticing your hesitation.

“There is also an artifact that I think could help your friend,” you start, picking up the bracelet in question and holding it up as you explain its power, “This can help numb one's powers.”

“Like faebane?”

You shake your head, “No, this is completely painless, but it's vital that it is only used when she's finding herself lost in her visions and you're struggling to pull her out. This is not to be used as a crutch. If she used it to suppress her powers too often, she might never be able to take control of her full powers and this bracelet could become something she can't live without.” He nods, hopefully understanding the gravity behind your words. “It's also extremely rare and dangerous so I ask that, as soon as she has a better grasp of her abilities, I would say within a few years at most, this bracelet is delivered back to the temple so it can be kept safe.”

“What happens if we don't return it?”

The question makes you tense up and close your hands around the bracelet, your voice coming out clipped as you answer him. “I'm not entirely sure as no one has ever attempted something so foolish as long as I've been here, but those types of transgressions are handled by the Goddess so I imagine you would not be able to keep it even if you tried.”

“I wasn't considering keeping it. I was merely curious,” he rushes to explain, sincerity dripping from every word and making you relax a bit.

“Curious?”

“If you would be the one to come for it,” he confessed.

A warm tingly feeling spreads through your body as you digest his words. Would he seriously consider stealing from a God just for a chance to see you again? Even if it meant being at the end of your wrath? Can you be confident the bond wouldn't drive you to such extremes as well?

“I can't leave the temple unattended,” you murmur, much too softly for your own good. Your emotions are running all over the place, it almost seems like they're fighting to see which one will take control of your body, and unfortunately, you have an inkling as to which is winning as his scent overwhelms your senses once again.

“Of course,” he says, taking a small step closer to you, shadows mostly retreating from his body, “Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you.” Must his voice sound like a cup of hot chocolate after a day spent playing in the snow?

It doesn't help that you've been in this temple for so long that you can't even recall the last time someone touched you, not even sexually, no one has so much as held your hand or hugged you in decades, ever since your parents passed. Looking at him, you know you could get lost in his arms, your head resting against his strong chest.

It's only when you squeeze the bracelet too hard, a bit of its power zapping through you, that you're finally able to pull yourself from the beautiful hazel of his eyes, and your consuming thoughts. Clearing your throat and handing him the bracelet. He only hesitates a second, likely pulling himself out of the moment as well, before carefully taking it from your hand, conscious of not letting his skin touch yours, much to your dismay.

You can feel your eyes widen at the sight of his scarred hands before you have a chance to school your features. The armor he wears and the sword strapped between his wings tell you he's a warrior, but you can't imagine what could have happened for this injury to scar like this. Someone employed directly under the High Lord must have access to the best healers in the court. Suddenly, anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach at the thought that someone dared to hurt your mate.

This time he's the one to pull away from you abruptly, shadows returning to their master, and that infuriating string tugging at your heart as he does. It makes you want to reach out and hold his hand, reassure him somehow, but thankfully your brain catches up to the thought that might be overstepping, and so you simply nod at him and ask him to follow you back to the temple's main room once more.

The walk back is filled with a heavy atmosphere, not only considering your oversight, but also at the realization that you must send him away now, likely never to see him again. If you're lucky he will be the one to return the bracelet, and you will be able to see him in a few years. The thought makes you slow your pace.

It's only when you reach the heavy doors, that you allow yourself to turn to him, his face reflecting your feelings perfectly. You briefly consider mentioning the bond, at least to make sure he feels it too, but you fail to see what good that would bring. You still can't leave the temple and, now that he's gotten what he came for, he will not be able to return either. This will be the last time you see each other, regardless of your feelings.

He studies your face carefully, perhaps wondering the same. It seems he reaches a conclusion as he speaks up, “Can you tell me your name?” He sounded hopeful, but somehow scared of asking, as if denying him could hurt him beyond comparison.

You whisper your name hesitantly, knowing this isn't just another stranger, this was your mate. He repeats it, tasting it on his tongue as he stares at you with an intensity you almost couldn't bear, but were unable to look away from.

“My name is Azriel,” he offers willingly, like he wanted nothing more than to hear you say his name, and who were you to deny him this when you were already withholding so much? You repeat his name the same way he did yours, the impertinent little silver string connecting you and your mate reappearing as the delicious word left your lips.

You keep repeating it in your mind as he thanks you for your help and you watch him take flight, hesitation written in his entire body language as his wings slowly carry him over the clouds, looking back down multiple times as if fighting himself to keep moving. You repeat it once more out loud, when you can't see him anymore and you know he's out of earshot. This time his name is followed by a broken whisper of an apology.

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The flight back to Velaris was one of the hardest ones Azriel has ever attempted, noticeably taking him much longer than it would have under normal circumstances. He has had to fly back home on an injured body and even injured wings, carrying another with him – Cassian of all people – and he's had to fly through the most extreme weather, heavy rain, snow and the torrid desert sun. All of those things had seemed easy compared to what he was experiencing now with a well rested body.

Both Rhysand and Cassian had mentioned how the mating bond made them act differently, how it seemed like it was taking control of their body and pushing them to act a certain way, but he didn't expect it to be this bad. His every instinct was screaming at him to turn around and go back for his mate.

He even had to take a break along the way, after watching the temple disappear right before his eyes, hidden inside the spell that had kept it safe for millenia. As the sight of the brilliant building was replaced with trees and rocks, the only thing going through Azriel's mind was that he might never see his mate again, the mere thought sending his heart into disarray. He spends a good while sitting under the moonlight, looking ahead at where he knows she is, while his shadows do their best to comfort him. Trying desperately to wrap his head around everything that happened, and how much his life changed in such a short time.

If he had been given a warning, a chance to prepare himself, then maybe he would have approached things differently, but getting blindsided by a mating bond wasn't in his plans. In fact, it had been a good while since he had stopped hoping for a mate.

He had longed for one most of his life. For someone that not only was his equal, but was also able to connect to him in ways only those who have experienced such a thing can begin to comprehend. A person that would accept him no matter how wretched he was, how much blood he has had to wash off his hands for the sake of his court. Someone he would love with every breath in him, even if it ruined him completely.

So many don't truly believe in mating bonds until they see them in front of them, but Azriel always did. He'd seen the worst this world had to offer and knew that if there was such darkness, then its counterpart would be equally as strong. And what could be stronger and brighter than love?

It wasn't until his brothers found mates of their own within a year of each other that Azriel started truly wishing for one though. Before, it was nothing more than a dream, just as he had dreamt of flying when he was locked in his cell, of seeing his mother when his cruel father kept him away from her, but seeing the happiness the mating bond had brought his brothers and how amazing the connection they shared with their mates was, he couldn't help longing for the same.

That was until enough years passed, everyone around him happily mated or in loving relationships while he stood by and watched from the same dark corner of the room. Azriel had convinced himself he wasn't worthy of a mate, even now after seeing you he can't help but feel the same. You were perfect in every aspect of the word, a beacon of light even kept away in your temple, while Azriel was nothing more than a monster. The feared Spymaster of the Night Court. Always ready to drench his hands in blood for the sake of his family and his home, always covered in shadows. A lesser fae, Illyrian of all kinds.

You deserve someone better, of that much he's sure, but the Mother had decided you were equals, and Azriel didn't mind doing his best to be worthy of you even if he had to work for it for the rest of his life. He's been waiting to love someone for so long, has been saving all of that inside him, and he wants nothing more than to shower you in affection, in reverence. Except it didn't seem like he would have the chance.

For most of your interaction, Azriel was convinced you had also felt the bond forming between you two, but he couldn't be sure, not when you hadn't even mentioned it or alluded to it before showing him out. Maybe he had read too much into things, let his own feelings bleed into his analysis, or maybe you simply didn't want a mating bond, not with someone like him. It didn't seem like you knew of him, but who's to say you haven't heard of the awful things he's done, and decided you didn't want anything to do with a monster like him.

The thought had his shadows rushing to soothe him once more, whispering vehement denials of his unworthiness as they covered him. Unfortunately, they wouldn't answer any of his questions about you, claiming it wasn't their place to explain your feelings or situation. In a way they were right, but that left him with no idea of what to think.

Azriel sat on that mountain, mulling over everything that had happened until the first rays of the sun started rising over the horizon. It wasn't until Rhysand reached out to check on him, worried at his spymaster's unusual tardiness, that he resumed his trip back to Velaris, this time passing through shadows along the way to cut his time shorter, hoping his brother hadn't caught glimpse of the heartbreakingly beautiful female consuming his every thought. Trying desperately to clear his mind as the cool wind hit his face, preparing for the meeting that was waiting for him as soon as he got home.

“So the temple truly exists?” Rhysand had been as skeptical about the temple's existence as Azriel, finding it hard to believe that such a thing could be hidden in his own court without his knowledge.

Azriel nods and sets the books you've given him on the dark desk, dropping the bracelet on top of the pile carefully, trying not to be reminded of the way you had handed it to him, or focus on your scent still clinging to it faintly. Shaking himself out of it and letting the spymaster mask fall over his face, he starts explaining how he had found the temple behind a powerful spell, going into detail about the building itself, the keeper who had helped him and the books and bracelet given to him, including the warnings you gave him, making sure to stress the fact that the bracelet was to be returned as soon as Elain gained enough control of her abilities.

“You really didn't feel the wards around the temple?”

“No, if my shadows hadn't disappeared right before my eyes I wouldn't have even noticed they were there.” So much had happened that Azriel almost forgot how peculiar those wards were, in fact all the magic present in the temple and in you had felt different.

“And this keeper?” His heart speeds up treacherously, enough so that Rhys gets a curious glint in his purple eyes, undoubtedly noticing it. “Tell me about her.”

A soft scowl takes over his features, a strange possessiveness creeping up before has the chance to quell it. “She was waiting for me at the entrance. Apparently the Moon Goddess warned her there was a visitor coming.”

“She can talk to the Goddess?”

“It seems so,” Azriel hesitates for a moment, “Her magic is different from any fae I've seen. Her hair is completely white, and her eyes aren't much darker, maybe a bit more silver. There was a certain aura about her, her entire being seemed to glow beautifully under the moonlight, even more when we moved inside. She truly looked otherworldly. In that moment, she looked even more radiant than the stars and the moon combined.”

A moment of silence falls over the room as everyone digests Azriel's words, tiny gasps leaving Feyre and Elain, who had been out of it for most of the conversation as a result of yet another one of her visions, and Nesta's jaw dropping significantly as they were not used to hearing the Shadowsinger muse about someone like this. Unfortunately, the others have seen him drunk enough when he was younger, so it wasn't as much of a surprise.

“What was that, brother?” Cassian's teasing voice cuts through his thoughts, “I thought you didn't resort to poetry.”

Azriel looks up at this, heat rising to his cheeks at the amused looks shared by everyone in the room, realizing he had lost himself in his descriptions of you, unable to keep them as clinical as he normally would, especially when it came to a mission.

“I just meant her magic manifests in a way I've never seen before,” he finishes lamely, one of his shadows oh so helpfully crawling up his neck to notify him that no one seemed to believe his excuse.

“Right, her magic,” Nesta mocks, suddenly interested in hearing about the temple after focusing on the books that would be helping her sister.

Thankfully, Amren didn't care about whether he found the keeper beautiful or not, and wanted to keep the conversation on track, a bored expression on her face as she pulled the attention back to her and the topic at hand.

“You said she called herself the keeper of the temple, correct?”

Azriel nods at her while checking his mental walls just in case, lest he also let them fall in his moment of distraction, and his High Lord or Lady saw something they shouldn't. He can only guess what feelings and thoughts would be attached to your image in his mind. If they saw this he would never hear the end of it.

“I believe she not only can communicate with the Goddess but also shares some of her powers. It's hard to determine just how powerful she truly is,” the ancient one turns to Rhys and Feyre, a serious look taking over her features, “She could become a threat to us.”

“She's not a threat,” his voice cuts through the room, protecting his mate instinctively.

Rhysand raises one annoyingly perfect eyebrow at Azriel's sudden outburst. Some of the amusement still lingers around the room, but the anger behind his statement was undeniable, creating some tension and confusion between everyone. It's not often they see him so on edge, to the point of raising his voice at Amren of all people.

He tries to calm himself as much as possible, knowing this is a symptom of the mating bond and that his brothers and sister-in-laws might be able to figure that out, and tries to explain himself once again.

“I was the one who talked to her, there were no ill intentions when she guided me through the temple and gave me the books. She even added more books than we wanted or knew existed, and the bracelet. She helped us willingly.”

Amren studies him through narrowed eyes for a moment longer before finishing her earlier thought. “Even if she had any ill intentions, keepers are bound to their temples and can't physically leave, so there wouldn't be much to worry about.”

It feels like the world stops when Azriel hears these words. Every little hope he was clinging to in regards to your bond escaped him in that moment. If what Amren said was true, you couldn't leave the temple, even if you wanted to come and find him, and he couldn't find the temple unless he needed something and the Goddess showed him the way. He could very well never see you again, or only once more, when Elain got better and he had to deliver the books and bracelet back to the temple. Was that why you ignored the bond? Because you knew there was no hope for the two of you?

Azriel spends the rest of the meeting in a sort of trance, barely able to listen to what his family was talking about, or even register what they decided when it came to helping Elain use the books. It was impossible to focus on anything when it felt like his life, a dream that had barely started was crumbling right before his eyes. He only tunes back in when the meeting is over and most of the Inner Circle starts leaving, hoping he can at least go rest from his flight, take a long bath and find a quiet place to be alone and digest these life changing last few hours.

He was already on his feet, dragging his exhausted body to the door when Rhys called out his name, making him turn around in question. “There's something else we need to discuss.” His brother was always the most perceptive at the worst times. The last thing Azriel wants to do right now is discuss his miserable fate with anyone.

Everyone filters out the room then, even Feyre who drops a kiss on her mate's cheek before following her sister out - a gesture he's more than used to witnessing but bears a different weight today - leaving the two brothers alone in the quiet office. Azriel doesn't move from his spot, standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms as Rhysand studies him, daring him to start the conversation, secretly praying he simply has another mission to send him on instead of the conversation he's almost sure is about to start.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with this keeper?”

Azriel has to physically stop himself from sighing. Why couldn't the Mother let him have a moment after everything that has already happened in the last few hours?

“Nothing happened,” he sounds defensive even to himself, his mind too preoccupied to try and mask his emotions, “She gave me the books and then I left.” This much was true, unfortunately.

Rhys simply hums, always sounding irritatingly sure of himself. “So you wouldn't mind showing me your memories of last night, right? I'd like to take a good look at the temple. It seemed quite intriguing,” he pauses for a second, head tilting a fraction to the side, mouth forming into a smirk, “and so did she.”

A snarl escapes Azriel's mouth at his brother's words. Even if he knew he was being baited, controlling this damned bond was impossible right now. Rhysand's smirk only deepens, like a predator who successfully lured its prey, since his brother gives him the exact reaction he was expecting with that little comment. No wonder Azriel has to work so hard as his Spymaster, it's a miracle Rhys has lived this long.

“You look very defensive of a female you've only exchanged one simple conversation with.”

“Like I said before,” he says, that snarl not quite leaving his lips no matter how hard he tries, “She helped us without a second thought, even more than we expected. I just don't understand why everyone keeps insisting that she might be a threat.”

“I didn't say she was a threat, I simply asked you to show me what she looked like.” The High Lord taps his purple painted nails on the table, waiting for a response. When it becomes clear that Azriel isn't taking the bait, Rhys keeps going, “Can't blame me for being curious of how this keeper beautifully glows under the moonlight. She looked otherworldly, you said?”

The thought of assassinating his loving brother crosses Azriel's mind. He doesn't even know what to respond knowing those were his own words, and any reaction would be amplified by the mating bond. The High Lord had him right where he wanted him.

As he keeps staring at his brother, shadows climbing up his body until most of him is covered from those intense violet eyes, Rhysand's expression changes, a somewhat defeated look replacing the earlier amusement as he accepts that he'll have to pry the truth from his spymaster.

“Azriel, I've known you for over five centuries. I can tell when you're hiding something from me,” his face and tone turning even more serious as he continues, “I also know what a fresh mating bond feels like, the emotions it evokes in us.”

Azriel stares at his brother for another moment, before realizing there was no need to try and pretend he wasn't right, letting out a sigh before sitting down in the chair across from him defeatedly, shadows settling while his wings drooped, enough to touch the floor.

“If you already know, why are you asking me about it?”

“I didn't expect this to be your reaction,” he says, thoroughly studying Azriel's face. “I don't understand why you wouldn't be happy. I know it can be scary, but you've always wanted a mate, Az.”

“There's nothing to be happy about.”

Rhys simply rolls his eyes, “I know a bit more about mating bonds than you do. Trust me there's a lot to be happy about.”

His temper rises at this, emotions still not having settled - he's starting to wonder if they ever will. Even his shadows were becoming overstimulated, not knowing how to soothe their singer in these circumstances.

“Didn't you hear what Amren said? She can't leave the temple, she's bound to it, and I can't go back there since it's hidden under whatever spell that was,” the words almost caught in his throat, “I'm never seeing her again.”

Saying it out loud makes the whole situation unbearably real. It's not often Azriel sees himself in conversation such as these, always one to ignore his feelings for as long as possible, and then isolating himself when they become too much, but his brother knows him too well, as he said before, and was prying out everything too easily.

“I don't even know if she wanted this,” he finds himself whispering.

“Why wouldn't she?”

Azriel swallows all the self-pity, the unworthiness he felt when it came to you, or anyone else really. Diving into these feelings would lead them into a different conversation, one he wasn't sure he could handle, much less right now, and so he opts for the simpler answer.

“She didn't mention the bond once, she was ignoring it – if she even felt it at all,” he leans back and runs his hand through his hair, “my feelings were muddled the whole time I was there so I can't even know for sure.”

“You didn't tell her you were her mate either,” Rhysand reminds him.

Would things have gone a different way if he had? Or would you simply let him down as soon as he brought it up? Did it even matter? Would he be able to survive your rejection?

“She told you the temple showed itself for the people who needed it, right?” Azriel looks up at his brother, nodding. “Seems to me like you need to talk to her.”

⭒.˚ ☾⭒.˚

You're not entirely sure what one is supposed to do after finding their Mother-blessed mate, and then proceed to send them on their way, possibly to never return. Not being able to get even a wink of sleep and spending the next few hours searching your library for any information on mating bonds seems appropriate though. There wasn't anything written in these books that you didn't already know about mating bonds: extreme attraction, a connection of emotions, feelings of primal possessiveness, the possibility for a love unlike any other.

There was no mention of the silver string you'd seen tied around both of your hearts, but the bond seems to manifest itself differently for everyone, and the magic your Goddess has poured into you was peculiar to say the least. Even Azriel might not have seen or felt it manifest the same way you did, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Denying it is out of the picture at this point.

The section about rejecting mating bonds caught your eye, but it quickly soured your mood. It seems there's no way to reject a mating bond and hope for life to ever go back to normal, especially for males as they would always feel like a part of them was missing. The book didn't exactly go into depth on the topic – there can't be too many other idiots thinking of turning down a mating bond, – so it didn't mention anything about just ignoring the bond. Would it just fizzle out until you could barely feel anything, or would it end up with the same effects of a rejected bond? As much as you knew this bond was doomed from the start, you didn't want to convict Azriel to a lifetime of madness, or even worse. It was bad enough he couldn't get a mate out of you.

After your mood deflates at the bleak prospect for your future, and the sun has already replaced the moon, you decide to indulge yourself for a moment. Since your encounter had been so brief, you ended up not finding out too much about Azriel aside from his name, and, as much as there was a voice nagging at the back of your mind, warning you that trying to learn more about your mate won't help you in successfully ignoring the bond at all, you're still only fae and curiosity got the best of you. How could you not be curious about your mate?

You'd heard stories about a shadowsinger working under the High Lord of the Night Court, but you didn't know if that was him as the High Lord had changed since then. If it was though, this would make him a truly important figure for this court, country even. You can't help but feel proud at the thought.

Your search for information on Shadowsingers soon proves fruitless, not being able to find much else aside from their abilities to communicate with shadows, rare as they are, so you move onto researching winged fae instead, in hopes of finding out what kind he is. There are various kinds, this much you know, but for some reason you've always imagined them all to have feathered wings. It's at times like these that you wished you had traveled more when you were younger.

Most of the day is spent like this, tucked into your favorite sofa in the library, the temple refilling your teacup and offering you little snacks as you search for any bit of information that could help you understand who Azriel is. A tug on your silver string finally pulls you out of the moment, body immediately going into alert as you feel your mate nearing. These feelings are entirely too abstract, there's no way of knowing if he's flying over the temple or simply a bit closer than he had been an hour prior - which could still be halfway across the Night Court. You'd also found in one of the books that mates could attempt reaching out to each other through the bond, the descriptions of the resulting feeling appearing quite similar to what you were experiencing at the moment.

You try to ignore it and carry on reading your book on wings - the irony not lost on you - but the string keeps tugging incessantly, even more firmly now, and you suddenly get the feeling that he was actually close, possibly even trying to reach out at the same time or following the bond.

Had he come looking for you? You told him the temple kept itself hidden unless the visitor needed something from within these walls and the Goddess allowed them passage. He had to know that he wouldn't find anything more than trees and shrubs in this forest, the temple keeping itself out of sight even if he had been here before and knew its exact location, such were the wards around this place.

Putting away the book and sitting up on the sofa, you wonder what you should do. There's no way of communicating with him, and you won't be able to let him in, no matter how desperate you were since that decision was not your own to make. Your role was to protect the temple, but you knew he wasn't a threat either. Were you to simply stand by and watch while he looked for you, only to be met with silence? The Mother seems to have a twisted sense of humor.

As you were preparing yourself mentally for what you assumed were going to be a tough few hours, you feel the unmistakable sign of someone passing through the barrier, prompting you to stand up and winnow straight to the main hall, opening the front doors in a rush, only to find a familiar dark figure waiting for you.

If you weren't witnessing it with your own eyes, if your heart wasn't beating at that rhythm that seemed reserved solely for him, you wouldn't have believed this to be true. Your feet move of their own accord, carrying you towards your mate as he stands at the entrance to your temple, a contagiously hopeful expression on his face as he watches you move to him.

“How did you get here?” You can't help the dumb question, not being able to understand what is happening in the midst of your surprise and every other feeling that came with his presence.

“I needed to talk to you,” he explains in a breathy tone, smiling down at you like he wasn't sure if this would have worked either, if he was actually going to be able to find you.

The Goddess showed him the way, if She hadn't he wouldn't have been able to find you, even with any shadowsinger trick he might have had up his sleeve. Could She know he's your mate? She had been the one to warn you of his arrival the day before after all.

You're still trying to gather your thoughts when he continues, skipping over all the pleasantries as if he couldn't keep the words in any longer.

“You're my mate.”

Hearing the word coming from his mouth makes your heart soar, a tingling feeling spreading over your entire body as if lava was now running through your veins. This was not a confession you needed to hear, but the bond welcomed it anyway.

“I know,” you admit, a bittersweet smile overtaking your features.

“Are you unhappy with it? With me?” You quickly shake your head in denial, but he continues before you have the chance to explain, “I would understand it if you were, and if you don't want the bond, I won't force you to accept it. I promise I will never hurt you.”

Is this what has been going through his mind since he left? That you wouldn't want him? The thought makes you swallow, you've only wanted to spare him as much pain as you could, not hurt him more yourself.

“Azriel, that's not it. There's nothing wrong with you, or any reason I wouldn't want you as my mate” you assure, “but I swore my life to protecting this temple, and I can't physically leave the grounds. That's not fair to you.”

He doesn't seem to be surprised at the information, meaning he was probably already aware of your predicament and decided to come talk to you anyway, but he still takes a moment before speaking, thinking through his words as he watches you, shadows coming up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you make a vow of chastity or anything similar?” The question takes you aback for a second, heat rising to your cheeks at the implication.

“Not explicitly, no,” you clear your throat, “but it's hard to keep a relationship when you're bound to a temple hidden in the middle of nowhere. I can't even walk past the first few steps.”

Azriel looks behind him at your words. If he took a few steps down, you wouldn't be able to follow him, a different set of wards keeping you within these grounds. When he meets your eyes once again, you add carefully, “This isn't a relationship worth pursuing when we both know it won't end up working.”

“I think I would like to decide that for myself,” he says as he takes a small step closer to you, “if you'll allow me.”

“What?”

“I would like to come visit you whenever I can, and get to know you. This… I don't think we should throw away a chance like this so lightly, not without at least giving it a try.” He closes most of the distance between you, raising up his hand and holding his palm up for you to take, “Even if it never becomes a romantic relationship, or if it ends up breaking both of our hearts, I don't want to be the person who didn't fight for something so special in fear of getting hurt.”

You watch his hand as you mull over his words. It's not as if he doesn't make sense in his argument, you're more than aware how downright stupid it is to throw away a mating bond when some people spend their whole lives searching for one, but you're scared, for both of your sakes. Letting your mate into your life, even without accepting the bond, knowing that there will come a time when you will want more from it than what you're capable of having would not simply hurt you both, but change both of your lives beyond recognition – it could even kill you. And yet, staring into his hopeful eyes every little reason why you should be turning him down, walking back into the temple and closing the door behind you, seems to escape your mind.

When his hand lowers slightly, wings drooping as well, possibly taking your hesitation as denial, your hand moves to hold his instinctively, surprising the both of you. You had been kidding yourself into thinking you could fight a bond like this. The smallest sign that your mate would leave and your body moved to keep him by your side. Your decision has been made. You can only hope the Gods will have mercy on you.

“I would like to get to know you too, Azriel,” you say, squeezing his hand in yours as a blinding smile takes over his devastatingly handsome face. “As long as the Goddess shows you the way to the temple, I don't see anything wrong with… talking.”

He lets his thumb run over the back of your hand before raising it to his lips, sending your heart into disarray as he leaves a soft kiss on your skin. A flush covers the tip of his ears, and you catch a flash of the silver string connecting the both of you.

“Then I promise to come see you as often as I can.” He lets your hands fall between you two, fingers still intertwined as you stare at each other like fools. You catch yourself after a moment, thanking the Mother for living in this isolated mountain for once so no one could witness this.

“Do you want to come in? You must be tired after your flight,” you invite, letting go of his hand, missing the warmth of his skin immediately.

His gaze drops to your hand before meeting yours once again and nodding, following you inside into the main hall he had been in before. It looked different in the light of day, his hazel eyes studying it once more.

“I didn't fly all the way here,” he starts, gaze still stuck on the stone covered walls, “I can travel through shadows, similarly to how most high fae can winnow.”

“Oh.” You watch as his shadows move lazily around him, coming up his legs. “Is that one of your shadowsinger abilities?”

“Yes.” You wanted to ask more, your earlier curiosity returning, but you find a conflicted expression when he meets your eyes, you can also feel it in your chest, and so you wait for him to decide if he wants to share it with you.

“I'm not high fae,” he admits.

“Right, the wings,” you let out, much too excitedly, as your eyes fall on the huge appendages on his back, “I've never met anyone with wings, and haven't even heard of featherless wings. I searched in the library for types of winged fae, but most of our collection is a bit outdated, and the Goddess was never too interested in those sorts of things so I couldn't find anything that fit your description.” Your mind finally catches up to your words then, eyes widening before falling to your hands as you play with your fingers, and add lamely, “I have a lot of time on my hands here, and I didn't think I'd see you again so…”

You dare a look at his face when his silence drags on too long, finding him watching you with a surprised expression, wide hazel eyes staring into your white ones. His shadows had crept up his neck once again - singing to him you suppose.

Azriel finally finds his words after another moment, your eyes not straying from his for a second, “I'm Illyrian,” he starts, studying your face carefully before continuing, “As far as I know, we're the only ones whose wings have no feathers.”

“Illyrian?”

“Have you heard of it?” He seems scared somehow, but you're not exactly sure why he would be. You try to remember where you've heard the word before, only taking you a moment to remember them as people who live in the mountains up in the north, and were part of the High Lord's army.

“Yes. I know they're people who live in the mountains, and fought in the war but I didn't even know you had wings,” you gesture to them, “I didn't get much of a chance to travel before I came to the temple, so I've never met any Illyrians.”

“That's all you've heard?” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing at his insistence. “Illyrians have an unfavorable reputation. The males train their whole lives to fight, and the females aren't regarded as much more than a means for procreation,” he explains further, “Some have started changing their ways, slowly, but most camps insist on their traditions, no matter how cruel. They- We just don't have a good reputation.”

You start understanding where he was getting at. Some fae had trouble opening their eyes to how the world was changing around them, choosing to remain willfully ignorant to the harm it brought those who were different from them, who they deemed as lesser. He was scared that, had you heard about whatever cruelty he's seen from his peers, you would judge him for it. You feel a little offended that he would think so lowly of you, but the truth is he doesn't know you at all, or you him.

“It's hard to outlive archaic traditions when we live for centuries. I wouldn't ever dream of passing judgment on an entire group of people for the beliefs some of its members insist on clinging onto,” you clasp your hands together behind your back, shrugging as you smile up at him, “and I might be biased, or even wrong, but I think you're very kind, Azriel. You came all the way here to help your friend, with no real proof that you'd find what you were looking for, and then you came back to ask permission to visit me, even when you thought I might not accept it. Cruel is the last word I'd use to describe you. I'd rather go with sweet.”

“Sweet?” He asks, a flush rising to his cheeks and a bashful smile finally erasing that conflicted expression off his face. “You think I'm sweet?” You hum in agreement, your grin growing so large it hurts your cheeks. “I'll have to let my mother know at last someone agrees with her.”

You let out a laugh, the image of a baby Azriel getting showered in praises from his mother entering your mind. You almost have trouble imagining him as a child, but you have no doubts he was more than sweet, adorable even, with his round cheeks and small wings.

“So…” You lean back on your heels, intertwining your hands behind your back. “Do you want me to show you around the temple?”

“I would love to,” he agrees with a blinding smile on his face.

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[omaano]

SW Hades AU May Status Update

I wanted to make a dedicated post about what I’m currently working on for the Star Wars meets Hades AU that looks more consistent than just sharing bits and pieces whenever I’m tagged in a Last Line Challenge. Because what else do I have but the poly sketch requests and this AU for my weekends? (If nothing else I know that the Hades AU has got me XD)

Other updates: June - July - August

For now Obi-Wan and Maul are stuck at the same stage: they are both lined, have their base colours down as well as the two adjustment layers of coloured lighting.

I suspect if I were ever to get through the agonozing few hours of shading Obi-wan’s face it would be mostly smooth sailing from there. The problem is that there are at least 2 - if not 3 - separate stages where the shaded face looks like I have no idea what I’m doing, and you need to get through the whole thing before it really comes together 😅 on the other hand Hades 2 has a lot of the directional shading I might need for his character art so that might help to get me there.

It also needs to be said that Obi-Wan comes with the extra disadvantage that is the entire background behind him. I’m really hyped to line it finally, it is quite a challenge, but at the same time I’m slowly coming to the realization that I have no idea how I will colour it. Hades backgrounds are so so pretty and full of details and gorgeous colours, and while I’m not delusional enough to think I could match that on first try… I still wish I could, you know? At the same time I will have to erase or recolour a lot of my lines, which will hurt quite a bit, I imagine. I’m so bad at killing my darlings 😅 also I hate laying down flat colours. I just find it very difficult to immerse myself in that process, while lining and shading can have their flow.

I had covered up so many lines and details in Maul’s spider parts it’s a miracle I didn’t cry XD However, tips on grouping my shadows and allowing the shape to speak for itself and the details in them are very helpful and on point.

Worrying over writing dialogue for them is also not as far down my to-do list as I wish it were. I have a good enough idea for a quip for Obi-wan, but Maul? He’d need a whole melodramatic rant of his own XD

Aphra has gotten some new lines and I had fixed the satchel I had forgotten the last time I shared the rough sketch for her, thanks to the new character art for Hades 2! Seeing Odysseus and Hermès’s updated looks were great helps here, so I might as well move on to lining her, and finally adding another female character to the roster on top of Ahsoka!

And then there is the biggest update on these little guys below! I will need to clean up the ones I had drawn for Cobb and Boba (and Din) well over a year ago, but with these my version of chtonic companions are done, and thanks to @lesquatrechevrons I have a full list of keepsakes for each character as well. I’m not very good at drawing these little tchotchkes (I say with Rex’s blaster right there LOL) but I hadn’t been very good at lineart or cell shading when I started this project either, so through forced practice I’m determined to change that :D

(It’s not a screwdriver under Boga, it’s one of Cody’s antennas. “It will grow back, don’t worry,” he says as he snaps it off his pauldron and hands it over to Din. Rex backs him up on that one without question. They can't lie for shit but trolling the shiny is their thing.)

Additional fun fact: the reason why I’d picked up the chtonic companions concepts was because I’d been poking at minor details in the background behind Maul (aside from the Chaos doors), and I started adding credits and recoloured nectar to the corner (before I realized that they wouldn’t be visible once the character interaction comes up oops), and I tried to figure out to whose keepsakes Maul would react favorably. I also mixed up companion dolls and keepsakes, so that’s why the Ahsoka doll came to being (I also forgot that that one belongs to Rex, and not Ahsoka herself but uh… they are close enough that they should count by proxy anyway. It’s not Obi-wan’s cup of tea and that should be enough!). Also bless @mapleowl18 for suggesting Lil Soka as companion for Rex ❤️

So this is the current state of this AU project right now. I have my lists and notes, a few scribbled pose ideas in my sketchbook for Sabine (she might be next, unless Bo and her Nite Owls make a comeback), Satine and Omega (with Batcher), as well as some angry scribbles and question marks for Quinlan (who has apparently made his way back into this AU even though he didn’t get a little icon of his own originally orz), and Obi-wan The Second that would stand with Cody post reunion, but I cannot make that one work for now 😅

[silentium-symphony]

Spoiled Rotten (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) needed a break from now watch me whip, so here's some smut :) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

i didn’t really mean to make a sequel for Starved, it just kinda happened 💀 can def stand alone tho! i don't typically write a dominant reader, but i had a lot of fun trying smth new :) i hope you enjoy ♡

cw: afab!reader, mentioned somnophilia (like one line), swearing, nice and fluffy in the beginning, ya'll being absolute BRATS to each other oml, taking turns dominating the other :), link once again having the dirtiest mouth in the world, spreading you on all fours, riding link like the gorgeous stallion he is

wc: 5.8k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Passerine warbles teased your consciousness from the lands of slumber to the realm of morning. A curtain of colors whisped behind your eyelids and you felt the warmth of the sunbeam conveniently placed on your eyes; cracking them open a smidgen spelled the death of your pupils as you were immediately blinded by its solar glory.

Your head lulled to the side, still very much weighted by sleep, and came face-to-face with your lightly snoring husband. His golden brows were pulled into a relaxed arch, no longer featuring a drawn, terse look. His cheeks, smushed into the pillow, slotted perfectly in your hand and you stroked them fondly. A soft moan left him and you could feel the little bits of tension in his jaw disappear completely. Looking further down, you saw his neck and chest littered with hickeys galore; your lips tingled hotly.

You lifted the arm that was dangled loosely over your waist with great care, gauging his expression for any hint of discomfort or arousal. You were genuinely shocked he didn't slug his arm over you and hug you tighter as he normally would. While setting his arm down in front of you, you saw bright red scratch marks running up and down his arms. Highlights of last night pervaded your mind and it took a considerable amount of mental fortitude to not start grinding against his bare member. Additionally, thinking about how he abused your cunt with his incessant pounding started to fill you up with post-orgasm sleepiness--not what you wanted when you were trying to get out of bed.

And he did all that right after he got back. Y'know... It makes sense why he'd be knocked out.

Your lips ghosted atop his twitching eyelids while you slinked out of bed and oNTO THE FLOOR OH SWEET HYLIA

A hand flew to the corner of your bedstand and you somehow managed to catch yourself before you ate shit. Link really diddly darn fucked you 'til your legs gave out, huh? Can't say you were complaining--

You hauled yourself up, your knees shivering and buckling from the arduous task of existing in an upright position. You scooted closer to your shared dresser, the smooth walls acting as support, and you slipped on one of Link's shirts. His scent wrapped around you comfortingly and was reminiscent of one of his hugs. There was also the added benefit of Link really liking you in his clothes--a fact you very much took advantage of.

With the wall still acting as your cane, you made the trepidatious trip to the kitchen.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You balanced two plates of fried eggs and rice on a small wooden tray, complete with silverware, water, and two mug cakes! You managed to find the recipe haphazardly scribbled down on a random piece of parchment. You thought it looked delectable and hoped he thought the same.

You limped ambled your way to the bedroom and opened the old door as gingerly as possible.

Unluckily for you (and him, now that you thought about it), the wakeful tendencies stemming from the extreme sport of sleeping alone in the wilderness kicked in and his ears visibly twitched, disturbed by the softest sounds from across the room. He shuffled quickly and turned to you, his eyes still drooped with sleep.

"Mm... g'morn..." His nose quivered. "What smells so good...?"

"Breakfast!"

:O

:D

"Breakfast? In bed?" He could barely contain his excitement.

"Breakfast in bed!"

He sat up, propping and fluffing the pillows as you made your way over to him. He clapped and rubbed his hands in glee.

"Oh! Are those...?" The gears in Link's head buffered and churned.

"Mug cakes!" You set the tray down on his lap and saddled next to him.

"Mug cakes!!!" He returned your gleeful energy. "They look delicious, darling."

"Thank you, dear." You shoveled a fluffy mound of rice topped with an equally fluffy piece of egg in your mouth and sighed contently. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before dipping to your ear.

"Not as delicious as you though." He breathed, eyeing the plain white shirt hanging from your frame. You gasped at the sensation of heat tickling your neck and your palm connected with the backside of his head.

"Ow!" He pouted. "Unnecessary."

"J-Just eat the damn food!" Clearly flustered, you scraped more food into your mouth and promptly turned away from him. He laughed while smoothing out your bedhead before chowing down on the simple spread before him.

"How're you feeling? I'm sorry for being a bit... rough last night."

Good sir you almost broke my back and yours "a bit?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "Okay, fine, but my question still stands--how're you feeling?"

"I'm all right! My... Legs were pretty weak this morning." You shrunk, feeling Link's ego swell. You could practically feel the smirk on his face.

"Were you okay climbing out of bed this morning? You didn't fall, did you?"

You were so thankful he couldn't see the imaginary sweat beading down your brow.

"Nope! All good!"

"Glad to hear it."

Your conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both relished in each other's company and the food. While you finished up the main dish, Link dipped his spoon into the gooey mug cake and almost kicked his feet in childlike joy.

"This is amazing! It tastes just like your hugs!"

Your heart simultaneously fluttered and melted into one big goop.

"Heheh... And what, good sir, do my hugs taste like?"

"Hm..." He leaned in and glomped onto you. "Warm... Soft... Sweet..."

While you were basking in his warm embrace, you didn't notice the sly hand sneaking for the hem of your shirt. Warm digits traced up your torso and cusped your breasts; a pleasurable chill shuddered through you.

"Tantalizing..." He husked, lowering you onto your back. "Enchanting..."

He showered your neck with gentle pecks and retraced the bruises and nips he planted on your skin the night before. Your arms wrapped loosely around him, pulling him closer. You could feel his dick begin to throb with heat.

"Mm... Link..."

Guuuurgle...

Oh.

He pulled away from you, light, innocent giggles bouncing between the two of you.

"Let's take our time today, okay?"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

After clearing breakfast and cuddling for an hour or so, you both finally got up and started your day. Link volunteered to wash the dirty dishes while you put away the... scattered clothes from last night. Tidying the room to your liking, you came down to meet your husband.

Whose got his lean, toned, battle-scarred back turned to you.

Your love marks from last night were due to join his never-ending collection of scars--at least for the coming weeks. A wicked smile crossed your lips and you stalked toward him, tiptoes feeling around the squeaky floorboards.

He soaped up the water some more and smiled at the bubbles that floated to his nose, humming a happy lil' tune, completely oblivious to your sinful intentions. As he dipped a plate into the soapy basin, arms wrapped around his torso and he felt something warm and soft trace his back and sides.

His next exhale caught in his throat and he sputtered... some type of exclamation. As quickly as it tensed, his sinewy muscles grew lax in your embrace, melting into your touch. He adored the way your mouth hungrily suctioned to his old scars and how divine it felt for your hands to caress him, rubbing soothing patterns into sore spots he never knew he had.

You worked your way up and brushed your lips along the still-fresh scratches on his shoulders. You painted them with tender, loving kisses as your hand drifted lower and lower...

"You're marked up so nicely for me..." Your fingers coasted the prominent bulge in his pants and he bit back a whine. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Hands spun his waist around and his eyes flew shut, fully expecting to feel your lips slam into his as you took him right then and there.

...?

Except... You didn't...?

His eyes cracked open to his beloved's absence, confounded. A bright, chirpy whistle had him swiveling his head for a double take and he saw you happily drying the dishes he washed. Like nothing happened.

"You okay, love?" You looked at him through your lashes. "You've got stars in your eyes."

Said eyes twitched.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The sun was still high up in the sky when you finished torturing the poor man with your household chores. The door swung open; Link went out first, bucket and brush in hand, while you stayed at the door for just a moment longer. The open windows couldn't quite demonstrate the soul-cleansing power of the fresh winds and you relished the wind tugging through your hair. Your lungs expanded as much as they could, filling themselves with the scent of home-tinged wilderness, before breathing out.

Epona's happy nickers tickled your ears and you drew closer to the duo. Link was going through her sleek coat, brushing it of dirt and grime while you filled her troughs with fresh hay and clean water. You threw yourself onto Epona and gave her fluttering kisses on her snout and neck, singing praises into the ears of your equestrian friend and thanking her repeatedly for bringing Link back home safely.

Link, smiling, grabbed the bucket and left her stall.

"I'm gonna grab some more water."

You acknowledged him with a bright "mm" and turned your attention to Epona, who was lovingly nuzzling your neck. Your husband rounded the corner and disappeared behind your house--you waited a few moments.

Now was your chance.

You flew out of her stall and veered into your house, cramming as many apples as you could hold in your arms, and practically teleported back to her stall. The sweet mare let out the happiest whinny you've ever heard and pawed the ground with anticipation. You peered over your shoulder as you presented her her favorite treats and prayed to Hylia Link's bucket broke or something. Just... Please Goddess, stall him for a bit.

Link loves hates it when you tease him with the 'nonsense' of Epona liking you more. You remembered the first time you brought up such a notion and Link was quick to scoff at your claims, assuring you that he and Epona share a bond like no other. The sweet, sweet look on his face when Epona responded to your voice and not his that one time never left your mind. To add insult to injury, not only did she straight up ignore the blonde--she clopped away from Link and over to you, leaving her beloved rider in the literal and metaphorical dust. Link reverted back to silence for the rest of the day.

Besides! She works just as hard as Link in keeping Hyrule safe. She deserves all the treats in the world.

Epona made quick work of the bushel and pressed her snout to you for more. You laughed and gently pushed her away, kissing her nose as you did. You turned around, half-expecting to see your husband with a silly exasperated look on his face; no one. You rocked on your heels, keeping a steady stream of pats on Epona's neck as you craned yours to find your beloved. Where was he?

The familiar knot of worry pitted your stomach and, pressing one final nuzzle into Epona, left her stall. You followed the trail your love had taken several minutes ago, careening your neck around the corner. The well sat unattended and the bucket your husband carried laid on its side. You approached the scene carefully, your lips forming into a 'Link?'

A pair of hands dug into your waist; your vision whizzed into a blend of colors, the back of your house bleeding into the scene of a little alcove. You barely had time to think let alone scream before something hot and wet muffled your lips. Your assailant pressed you further into the wall, pinning your arms above your head and coasting his digits up your thigh. Link's handsome features flooded your view and you moaned into the kiss, feeling your core grow hot with need.

He moved himself between your legs and gyrated his clothed tip against your engorged and sensitive bud. Your lips pulled away with a pop and he busied himself tarnishing your neck once again, reinforcing the lighter bruises already beginning to fade and making new ones in previously unexplored spots. His pants grew uncomfortably tight as he listened to the pathetic whimpers dripping out of you.

"Shh..." A playful kiss lapped your collarbone. "Not so loud hun, someone might hear..."

You fussed and squirmed under his treatment, his mischievous, nippy kisses along your skin sending your thoughts into overdrive. You hadn't even noticed your hips rolling faster, sloppier against him as your heat craved that sweet friction. Link felt your juices seep through the thin fabric of his pants and moisten the head of his cock.

"Look at you, making a mess all over me..." He sang, nibbling the lobe of your ear.

His hands left your wrist to find solace at the back of your thighs. With a grunt, he hoisted you into a seated position and pressed his full weight against yours, nullifying any chance for escape. Your legs hung uselessly at his hips as he continued moving against you in both body and lip.

His mouth moved to capture the beginnings of your breasts, suckling the curve of your mound until your chest glistened with his spit. He looked up at you through trembling lashes, committing your hooded gaze, gaping mouth, and flushed cheeks to memory.

The tips of your toes grazed the ground as Link lowered you delicately before he not so delicately spun you round and slammed your front against the wall. The sudden impact knocked what was left of precious air out of your lungs and your brain roared, the organ already doubling over from a pleasure-kissed lightheadedness.

Calloused hands connected with the soft of your inner thighs, flowing it open and dragging a finger, slow and deliberate, across your clothed folds. You all but screamed his name, his previous warnings to keep it quiet muddling with lusty bliss. Wet, hot breaths on bits of your exposed back sent your eyes rolling into your head and you balled your fists at the thought of him taking you here and now.

You felt his weight leave your form and you waited with growing impatience for him to be rid of his clothes. Your eyes were still squinted shut as you whined, trying to push your rear against his tented crotch hungrily.

He's... further away than you expected. How big is this alcove...?

You looked over your shoulder, confusion meddling with your arousal, and caught a glimpse of blonde swaggering away from you as if nothing had happened.

Heart thundering, legs quivering, blood rushing, your bent frame crumbled in on itself as your knees gave out from under you.

"LINK!!!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Safe to say by the time dinner rolled around, the two of you could hardly look at each other and any attempts at making small talk felt like Ganon shooting his piss into your eyes. Any semblance of Link in your brain always ended up with him either railing you or you fucking him until collapse.

You looked up from your plate to grab the water pitcher before you and you could feel the darkness glimmering in his eyes, heavy with lust and frustration. Your thighs grinded against each other, hoping to satiate the growing need to stimulate yourself even if only a little.

You were one look away from pinning him onto the dining table and fucking him until he was a babbling, crying mess under you. Unbeknownst to you (not really), Link happened to share those same sentiments.

Hylia, you were so horny for each other and your skin felt aflamed by his absence. But... you'd be lying if you said you didn't find a sick pleasure in watching you and him squirm under each other's heavy gaze, seeing how long either of you could last before one of you bites the arrow and takes the other.

"(F/N)."

You jolted at the sound of your own name and looked up into Link's blown-out pupils and barely parted lips, moistened with spit. Not a word was spoken between the two bodies; a velvety darkness took hold of your chest and you absently felt your feet march over to your husband before locking lips with his in messy desperation. Your hands explored the warmth of his skin, rubbing the back of his shoulders, his face, his chest. With a small tug on your wrist, you fell into his lap and he steadied you with level hands. You rolled your hips against his aching cock, teasing his stiffness with every sultry sway.

His lips latched onto your shoulder and his teeth sunk into the soft flesh, feeling your body shiver against his. He moved in time with your motions, rocking you faster against his dick that sweltered with desire. His chair skitted back and his hands flew to your ass, squeezing the soft, plump flesh as he carried you to the bedroom. Your legs hugged his torso to keep yourself up as he blindly fumbled with the doorknob, impatience ticking both your features.

He swung the door open, the shockwave from the sudden slam knocking down whatever trinket or picture was hanging on the wall. You paid little mind to the clamor of knick-knacks as Link tripped onto the bed, his back sinking into the soft mattress and you adding to his weight. You braced your hands on the sides of his head while his found your hips, fondling and diveting the soft flesh.

Languid lips moved with his before traveling towards his jawline and down to the soft skin of his neck, lapping it with butterfly kisses. A shaky breath all but stopped at the base of his throat as he saw you trail red, hot pecks along the dip of his shoulder and down to his chest, assaulting his lust-stricken senses with a campaign of pleasure. You looked up at him teasingly, swirling the tip of your tongue about his perked nipple.

Link's eyes fluttered close as a breathy sigh left him, his hips bucking wildly against your own. He tried so hard to catch his breath, but every roll, every graze, everything flared a white flame throughout his core. His mind was slipping, he could feel it, but by the gods did he do his damnest to savor every little sensation he would feel tonight.

Your hands quickly discarded your undergarments and flew to the hem of your shirt, tossing it aside like you've done hundreds of times before. Link followed suit, doing the extra step of lifting his hips (you still on top) to shimmy his pants off. He kicked the offending fabric off the bed and you both sighed, enjoying the pleasurable tingles the cool night air brought to your hottest spots. You lifted yourself and slowly rubbed your folds all over him, drinking in his dirty mewls like it would be the last thing you tasted. Something dark snapped into your husband's eyes as a hand left your hip to cruelly flick your sensitive bundle of nerves.

A whine lapsed out of your mouth and you bobbed your dripping cunt up and down his tip. A growl countered your moans while his thumb rubbed long, teasing circles about your clit. Nails dug into the swordsman's thighs as tears clouded your vision.

"You want to play this game?" His eyes read. "Fine. Let's see who wins."

You're unceremoniously pushed forward by his limbs and your chest lands squarely atop his face. Link's muffled moans hummed between your mounds and you sighed, head lolling forward. You scooted your hole closer towards his propped thighs, dipping just past his angry head and taking a little bit more of him in your cunt. You whorled your hips slothfully, savoring the way he rubbed every corner of your entrance. Teeth dug punishingly into your nipples and worked the small buds until they were raw and red from abuse. A hot, sloppy tongue swirled around the aching buds, matching the pace with your hips.

It took everything in you to not let out the sweet cry bubbling in your chest as you pulled and twisted his soft golden locks, determined to break this man before he broke you. Without any warning, you rammed your cheeks against his thigh, taking all of him in one go; you both choked as you stretched to accommodate his length and girth while your caving walls sent him to cloud nine.

Link was the first to cry out, with you following shortly after. Still remembering the game you were playing, you slid off him almost completely before slamming yourself down again with a force that got him seeing stars. Knuckles tightened around your waist and nails dug into your supple softness as the man beneath you writhed with untold pleasures. Your throbbing heat begged you to wait, to adjust to his size, but you were so focused on getting him whimpering under you that you brushed the sensual shock off.

Link adjusted himself slightly to naturally hasten your rolls; you also adjusted yourself in a bid to level the control you had over him. You decided your gait, not him. Soft hands went to pry the battle-worn digits off your side but were promptly met with a sharp slap over your wrists, gluing them to one spot. As he positioned you slightly angled above his pelvis, his smirk countered your falling expression as you began to realize the compromising position you were in.

Not wasting any time, Link roughly entered your hole, keeping you right where he wanted you for maximum pleasure. His sudden entrance elicited the sweetest calls for his name and you threw your head back, barely keeping yourself together. Try as you might, you couldn't wriggle free from his grip (though he loved watching your futile attempts, your countenance contorting into the prettiest, sluttiest faces). Your hands twitched and convulsed, wrists writhing uselessly against your side as he hastened his thrusts.

"Nngh! Link! S-Slow--please!"

"Hm? What was that?" He asked coolly, exertion inapparent in his voice.

"T-Too fast--Link, I c-can’t--"

"Oh, but you took me so well last night. Besides, I'm having fun watching you struggle like this." He snickered, watching the rebellious glint in your eyes dull into something lustful. You were trying so hard to pry from his grasp. You thought you could break him first? How cute.

Link's head rolled into the bed as he felt you stretch and expand with every thrust, locking his cock in a vice grip. Gods, you were so tight. And warm. And wet. He cursed under his breath as he watched your juices pool at the base of his cock. His clasp unknowingly began to loosen.

Slackening just enough for you to wiggle free. He gasped, no longer feeling your convulsing hands under his and before he knew it, those same hands that got you under his control were pinned above him. You laughed something wicked as you sat promptly on his dick, stilling his wild pistoning. He felt small under your piercing gaze, like some prey item looking up at its predator. You leaned down and nipped his ear lobe, a soft whine escaping him.

"My turn." You purred, rolling against him painfully slow and giving your abused cunt a much-needed break. A groan rumbled out of him the instant he stopped pounding your insides at unimaginable speeds. You fought the wrists that tried to pull away from you and locked his lips with yours, tongue and teeth mashing sloppily against the other. Frustrated at your own slow pace, you took your rolls up a notch--fast enough to keep his mind from imploding but not enough to give it the release he craved.

"Please, just a bit faster..." He sputtered, pleading.

"Do you really think you're in a position to be giving orders?" You cooed. "Don't rush me."

Your hips lulled into a steady rhythm that was a step faster than what you were previously going. Link turned into a fumbling mess under you, filling your bedroom with his begging whines and gasps for more. With one hand still pinning him down, the other grazed the various scars that littered his abdomen. Your tongue swiped your bottom lip while you watched the outline of his abs convulse with each pleasure-stricken breath. Every one of your touches, every one of your kisses, every sloppy squelch your wet hole made as it took him whole fogged his mind with ecstasy.

"Mm! You've been so good... Letting me use your cock..." You whipped your hips forward, grip tightening around his wrists. The Hero of Hyrule's pathetic little whimpers traveled to your ears and you looked down at the whining man squirming underneath you, tears prodding his eyes.

"You like that? Hm? You like it when I bounce on your hard, hard cock?" You accentuated each word with a snap of your hips. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a cry of pleasure.

"Please... Please, let me touch you--feel you... I need it, please..."

"Not yet darling," you kissed his tears away, giggling as more came to replace what was lost. You felt him swell inside you and you moaned. "Fuck, Link..."

You leaned back, resting on his thighs for support, and gyrated your hips in a circular motion. Link was practically screaming, begging, imploring you to grab you, hold you, anything just please--

"Nuh uh uh," your sing-song voice dripped with a lusty venom. "The moment you lay your hands on me, I stop. Got it?"

"No!" Blue eyes shot up to meet yours, mortified. "Don't stop! Whatever you do, just don't... Ah... Don't stop..."

You fucked and fucked this man until your thighs clung to his with sweat. Link pressed his face into his bicep and his hands balled into pale fists, shaking as he fought the urge to overpower your teasing self and ram his throbbing cock against your sweetest spots.

"You look so pretty, Link... Gods, absolutely gorgeous." You gingerly pulled his face to look at you. "Don't hide from me, I want to see you..."

You sunk your chest into his as your hips lifted and snapped down with a lewd squelch. He let out a noise between a gasp and a yelp and he bucked his hips up to meet your cunt. You hovered in the air, low enough for Link to slip in and out of you but high enough where he couldn't immerse himself wholly. A race of obscenities slurred out of his mouth.

"P-Please (F/N)... Can you come down a little lower for me? I need you... Need you wrapped around me..."

"Mm... I'll think about it." You laughed darkly as Link strained harder to fill you up with his cock. Eventually, his breathing became haggard and you felt his heart thunder in his chest. He threw his head back and chanted your name like something holy. Your lips left bluish welts all over his alabaster skin and you pulled away, admiring your masterpiece.

"So pretty... All right, I'll give you what you want..." You began lowering your hips--barely at first--while Link sang your praises, feeling the lower half of his dick be squeezed by your tight, wet walls.

"You fill me up so well, baby..." You rolled your hips faster, faster, faster. "Fuck, you're so big...!"

Link's abs suddenly crunched up and you yelped, slipping into his lap. Rough hands pulled you off him and spun your body round, faceplanting you into the soft sheets. He scuttled you closer and poised your ass in the air, taking a moment or two to appreciate your hole pulsating with want. His torso dipped into the arch of your back, sending hot breaths up your spine and into your ear.

"It's been fun, but..." He licked the sensitive spot under your ear, melting into your moans. "I'm gonna make you mine now, okay?"

Two fingers curled into your needy hole and thrusted at mind-numbing speeds. You screamed into the fabric bunched at the foot of your bed, fists balling uselessly in response to his merciless onslaught. As if your mind wasn't wrecked with enough pleasure, another hand snaked around your waist and dipped down your pelvis, kneading your swollen clit. The simple motion almost got you coming undone by his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you regret teasing me for so long." He hissed, his sexual frustrations turning into something sadistic.

As quickly as they entered you, his fingers pulled out and rubbed your slick all over his throbbing cock. He pained to feel your tightness vice around him, but Link was a patient man.

"You're such a tease, you know that? Gods, look at you... You're making a mess of our sheets." He hummed, rubbing his twitching head along your folds. "Whatever will you do to make up for this?"

"A-Anything!" The word flew out of your mouth before you could catch yourself. "Just please--please fuck me already!"

He chuckled evilly, prodding your entrance deeper. A whine wrenched from your throat and you tried pushing your cunt against him, but you were kept firmly in place with his hands.

"Begging's a good look on you, darling," He sang sweetly. "(F/N), you're gorgeous... Spread out so beautifully for me..."

Whispers laced with obscene praises overtook your senses as you felt your husband slowly fill you up, making sure you felt every sweet inch seep into your core. No words could explain the unholy heat that spread from your core to your fingers, tingling them with mind-rocking sensations. You felt his pelvis against your ass and you both let out a pent-up sigh.

Not a moment later, his hips snapped to life and you were completely at the mercy of the Hero's thrusts. Your breasts spilled into his hands, a wave of soft flesh lapping the other side of his palm with every forceful thrust. The other hand reached for your abused folds and rubbed your clit, each swirl more feral than the last.

"So good... So good for me... Your body was made for me..."

You were sobbing at this point. Shaking. Screaming. All for your beloved Link. He fucked every sense of coherency from your mind, filling your brain and cunt with nothing but him. He straightened his back and burrowed his fingers into your hips, admiring the little crescents his nails left behind. The air behind you stirred and the burn of a slap seared into your bouncing cheeks, lodging a pained whine in your throat. He rubbed the swollen handmark, loving the red that grew to settle on your skin and traced your relatively unmarked back that was practically begging to be marked by him.

He started with gentle kisses and tonguing here and there, gauging your expression (or moans) for discomfort. A high-pitched mewl acted as permission for him to continue. He followed the natural curve of your spine, teething the soft flesh and suckling so contently. He initially took his sweet time marking you, but the thought of his bruises painting your skin spurred him faster, rougher.

He bit the back of your shoulder and dragged teeth and tongue to your neck, his home. You felt him breath deeply, no doubt getting drunk off your scent and the smell of sex that clung to the air. You suddenly felt a hand burrow into your disheveled, sweaty hair and he pulled you up, pressing your body flush against his. The modified position allowed him to reach even deeper and at speeds he hadn't gone before.

Digits wrapped about your chin and neck, prying them sideways to make way for even more hickeys. Each mark still wrought your skin with a heat you could never get used to, no matter how many times he claimed you. Moist lips covered the shell of your ear as a husky whisper wormed through your thoughts.

"My cute lil' wife... You're taking me so well. Making me feel so good... Do you feel good too? Are you drunk off my cock yet?"

Some messy confirmation stammered out of you as lidded (E/C) met hooded cerulean. The imperceptible knot in your gut began tangling itself into tight ribbons. You were getting close.

He pulled you into a messy kiss raptured with delight, losing any form of standard structure as tongues met and coiled around the other in an intoxicating dance. You were no longer yourself, turned into a mere plaything by your loving, adoring husband. He chuckled at the dazed look in your eyes, nuzzling into your cheek.

"I love you so, so much..." His hand on your clit moved faster and faster. "Come for me, okay? Can you do that for me, my queen?"

The all-too-familiar tension grew and grew in your lower abdomen; your head lolled downward, bopping your nose clumsily against Link's. Your hand wandered to the top of his sopping-wet fingers while the other snaked around his neck. He balanced your forehead against his and locked adoring eyes with you.

"Don't look away... Look at me. I want to see your slutty face as you come..."

His velvety purr was the last push you needed to fall the over edge and into the sweet, white abyss. A scream you didn't recognize sang into his ears as you poured your juices all over his hand, your cunt shaking from the magnitude of release. The delightful twitches shot him over the edge and his eyes fluttered shut, pure unfiltered bliss kissing his features as he brimmed you with his seed.

All the strength in the Hero's legs sapped, you both fell backwards into the plush sheets, sweat and slick binding your limbs into a messy pile. Spent exhales intermitted with each other and neither of you moved, locked in warm, satisfied catatonia.

"I've never..." He breathed out with much effort, "Came so hard... In my life..."

"I think I... saw the gods." Exhausted laughs spilled from the both of you and you felt his loving gaze. You looked over at him as he tucked your sweaty locks behind your ear.

"Makes sense. You're absolutely divine, after all."

A weak slap to his bicep and a chortle.

"Must you tease me?"

"It's not teasing if it's the truth." He rubbed into your neck and sighed, feeling the post-orgasm sleepiness weigh his eyelids; your consciousness was already waist-deep into slumber. In the moments leading up to what would undoubtedly be the best sleep of your lives, he drew you closer and treated your ear with a low, tired whisper.

"I love you, (F/N)... Thank you for being mine."

[amarmeme]

I finally finished the game last night and have a lot of thoughts/feelings left lingering about Lucanis/Rook. I know people have gone on and around on this already, but I am compelled by this fictional mess.

I don't even think we need more from Lucanis, but more from Rook, which is my takeaway from the game as a whole regardless of romance, but I would guess is most highlighted by his romance path in particular.

Spoilers below the cut.

Pretty much anything I have written or will write is going to include some degree of angst. It's my favorite brand of tension.

Case in point: my favorite Austen novel is Persuasion. If that shows anything, it's that I live for inner turmoil, quiet suffering, yearning, unspoken words, and two idiots in love.

I want to get my heart shredded until the love makes it whole. The Lucanis romance has the potential for this in spades, but the execution is just lacking and that's because we never go beyond surface with Rook's thoughts. It feels like this romance is supposed to carry on the backs of the players' imagination, which feels a bit cheap.

I've seen criticism of not enough from Lucanis and also defenses that he's been through A Lot so we shouldn't expect more. I'm actually past that. Yes, more scenes with Lucanis would have been great, but I actually want more scenes from Rook's perspective, even if alone, to fill in the strange gaps.

Before you lock in mechanically, imagine if you will, Rook having a reflective conversation with Varric, or in Varric's mirror. Rook asks if they are imagining a connection, or seeing into things.

What if Rook has a chance to speak with Neve, given she and Lucanis have a clear connection whether they get together or not? Or Harding, one of the other people who appear in Lucanis' mind prison?

I could see this continuing after the romance "locks in" -- companions comment on Lucanis looking happy, them being together, but what about Rook? If they're not ready to comment directly to Lucanis on what this really means to him (since they never kiss, touch, exchange soulful looks, etc.), Rook should be able to ask the companions what they have noticed/what they should do to advance things.

This comes down to my struggle with this game versus past Dragon Age games. It all boils down to the lack of interaction between Rook and others. If Rook could ask their colleagues questions rather than just listening to ambient conversations or helping further their personal quests, it would do so much to make this game as amazing as the past installments.

Rook is so lonely, surrounded by all these people. You have to choose to imagine they are connected and are having these interpersonal conversations about themselves, because they never happen on screen. At least I didn't get any of that in my Shadow Dragon Rook playthrough.

I am completely fine with what feels like one-sided pining, and even angst about what Lucanis actually wants out of Rook, but the game needs some mechanics to put into place to make it feel like Rook isn't just quietly okay with an empty relationship, or expect us to imagine things are happening when the game presents them as very much not.

So much of what is there is perfectly rife for fanfiction, but I expect the logical progression to be clear in the game where it really is just not. I have no idea how Lucanis/Rook get from point A to B to C. It feels like it is missing content, and it could even just be Rook-specific content to smooth it over. As it is now, it feels like an unconvincing story.

Maybe one day I'll play it again as a crow to see if that adds any crumbs, but for now I'm just feeling kinda conflicted for my poor Rook. I love the potential, but am not super pleased with the execution.

[waitineedaname]

POV for the no excuses writing meme, please 👀 (i love this game so much!)

a bit of context: this is for my lesbingqiu wip inspired by that "can yuo put that out on me" tweet! the wip is from binghe's pov, so here's shen yuan instead. she strikes me as the kind of person to think being thirty makes her old (it does not lol)

--

Shen Yuan wasn't sure why Shang Qinghua had insisted on dragging her out drinking if she was just going to abandon her at the first sight of her situationship across the bar. She didn't care if Shang Qinghua insisted she needed to go out more! She had work to do! Never mind that her "work" these days mostly amounted to opening her dissertation document, glaring at it for an hour, and then closing it again. She was simply getting too old to go out drinking. She was thirty now; she might as well join a knitting circle if Qinghua was that worried about her social life.

She continued grumbling to herself as she lit her cigarette. It was much quieter outside the bar, though she could still feel the music thumping through the wall behind her. She would give Shang Qinghua another five or ten minutes to prove she hadn't completely forgotten about her, just long enough to take a smoke break, and then she'd leave. She could go home, change into her pyjamas, and spend the evening working through her reading list like she'd originally intended.

Her plans were interrupted by a sudden spike in the bar's volume as someone opened the door and stumbled out into the alley beside her. Shen Yuan nearly dropped her cigarette as she was suddenly confronted by the most absurdly beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

She wondered deliriously for a moment whether there had been a modelling event that she didn't know about, because there was no other explanation for a woman this gorgeous being loose in the wild. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and she had the kind of artful curls that Shen Yuan thought only existed in professionally styled wigs. Her bone structure was fine, and her skin was perfect. Seriously, was Shen Yuan hallucinating?!

The woman was also, Shen Yuan realized, extremely drunk. She stumbled over her high heels, reaching out to support herself on the wall with a groan. Shen Yuan's hands itched to reach out and support her, but she resisted the impulse.

"Are you alright?" she asked instead. The woman looked up, startled, eyes wide as if she hadn't realized Shen Yuan was there. Absolutely no way those eyelashes were real. They had to be falsies.

The woman made a slightly incoherent noise, and Shen Yuan frowned. How drunk was she? She then abruptly stood up straighter, though she was clearly still supporting herself on the wall.

"I'm fine," she said, surprising Shen Yuan with a low, smooth voice like honey. "I just needed some fresh air."

Shen Yuan nodded sympathetically. Poor thing. "Drink a little too much?"

The other woman's lips pursed in a pout. "My friend ordered shots," she explained.

And then just let her wander off?! Shen Yuan would like a word with this friend of hers. "You should be careful with those," she cautioned. "They can get you drunk very fast."

The woman nodded with the earnestness of an eager student. "Jiejie is very wise."

Oh, she was far too cute. Is this what people were referring to when they talked about blessed interactions between drunk girls at a bar? Never mind that Shen Yuan was hardly buzzed herself. She wanted to pat this girl's head and give her more wisdom, even if this wasn't really her area of expertise.

"Would jiejie keep me company while I sober up?" asked the other woman, her speech slightly slurred and her dark eyes pleading. As if Shen Yuan could say no to eyes like that!

"Of course." Shen Yuan nodded. It was her responsibility, after all! A code of sisterhood, to look out for drunk girls! "What's your name?"

"Luo Binghe." She found a more comfortable position leaning against the wall, resulting in her curls spilling over her chest. Shen Yuan foolishly tracked the motion, then forced her eyes back up to Luo Binghe's face. Aiyah! That dress really left very little to the imagination! Wasn't she cold?! Should Shen Yuan offer her jacket? "What should I call jiejie?"

"Shen Yuan." She lifted her cigarette to her lips and took another drag in the hopes that it would make Luo Binghe's appearance less distracting. Luo Binghe was staring at her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. "Are you here for some special occasion?"

Luo Binghe just continued to stare at her for a while. Poor thing, she really must be drunk. Shen Yuan knew how slowly she processed things when she was drunk. She could be patient with the girl. "My friends wanted to celebrate me starting graduate school," Luo Binghe eventually explained. Her pretty features pulled in a slight frown. "I think it's just an excuse for them to get drunk."

Shen Yuan chuckled at the petulance on Luo Binghe's face. "Maybe, but that’s a worthy thing to celebrate. Congratulations on starting grad school."

"Thank you, Shen-jie." Luo Binghe's expression softened into a smile again, still laser-focused on Shen Yuan's face.

Shen Yuan took a moment to look Luo Binghe over again. Grad school, huh? Shen Yuan struggled to believe that, but she couldn't see why Luo Binghe would lie. It's just, Shen Yuan was in graduate school, and she felt horribly outclassed by the girl in front of her. With looks like hers, she could easily become an idol or something! She didn't deserve to waste away in academia like Shen Yuan, though she admired Luo Binghe's academic drive. And so young, too...

"You seem awfully young for grad school," Shen Yuan said. It could be that she just took good care of herself, but she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd said she was still an undergrad. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-five," Luo Binghe said.

"Twenty-five," Shen Yuan repeated. Twenty-five! And she was here, talking to thirty year old Shen Yuan outside a bar. Shen Yuan's earlier impression was right; this really was not the scene for her. "I think I’m officially too old for this bar. People will think I’m a creep if I keep coming around here." She took another drag from her cigarette, feeling morose over her age. "When I graduated high school, you would’ve been thirteen. Isn’t that weird?"

It had seemed like Luo Binghe was sobering up, but she suddenly wobbled on her heels. She was staring intensely at the cigarette in Shen Yuan's hand. "Can you put that out on me?" she slurred.

Shen Yuan's heart rate spiked. Ah! How could she be so oblivious? What kind of helpful jiejie was she if she was blowing smoke in Luo Binghe's direction?! "Oh! I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay to smoke near you. I’ll put it out." She quickly ground it out on the wall. Luo Binghe made a pitiful noise of complaint, but that's okay, Shen Yuan had this handled now! No more smoke when Luo Binghe had specifically wanted to get fresh air!

"I know it’s a bad habit," Shen Yuan attempted to make an excuse for herself, her fingers itching with nervous energy. "It gives me something to do with my mouth and hands. I guess I should get a fidget cube or something less bad for me, but…" She trailed off with an awkward laugh.

Luo Binghe's eyes were still wide and slightly wet, fixated on her hands. Poor thing, the smoke must've made her eyes water. She opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by the door to the bar opening with a slam.

"Bing-jie!" A girl burst out of the bar, covered in jangling jewellery and not much in the way of actual clothing. She latched onto Luo Binghe's arm, speaking way too loudly to be sober. "You left your Ling-er all alone in the bar!"

Luo Binghe's expression immediately soured, but based on the way she didn't shove the other girl away, it was clear she knew her. Ah, Shen Yuan realized. This must be the friend who'd ordered the shots. Well, she'd just been planning to keep an eye on Luo Binghe until she sobered up or a friend joined her, and here was the friend. Her company was no longer needed here.

"I should probably get going," Shen Yuan said, giving Luo Binghe a soft smile. She had been scowling at her friend, but when she looked back up at Shen Yuan, her eyes were wide and puppyish again. "Get home safe, okay?"

Luo Binghe nodded, once again reminding her of an earnest student. "I will, Shen-jie."

Shen Yuan waved and left the alleyway. She sighed and pulled out her phone to call a cab. Shang Qinghua could find her own way home. Serves her right.

Still, the night wasn't a complete wash. Even as she made her way home, her thoughts drifted back to Luo Binghe. Did she get home alright? Was she drinking enough water? Would she be too hungover in the morning? A girl that pretty and that drunk could be a real target for unsavory people. Shen Yuan didn't doubt that she could handle herself -- those arms of hers were impressive -- but she couldn't help but worry.

Ah, well. Worrying wouldn't do her any good. It's not like they'd ever see each other again.

She put thoughts of Luo Binghe aside and decided to put her energy towards preparing orientation for her department's incoming graduate students.

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Perhaps some Grimsley prompts with like Marshal or Nanu? I imagine his gambling can net him some good meals, until he becomes one himself.

Love the choices for who to have interact with him. Ended up just writing a couple with him as pred though!

M.arashel grits his teeth with wide eyes as he stares at the hand laid out before him. He’s been wanting to get in a good match with G.rimsley for a while, but being that he’s both much stronger and has the type advantage, there was always some excuse to weasel out of playing against a stacked deck. M.arashel had finally caved and offered to do whatever game G.rimsley suggested…

It had been poker, and as M.arashel found out, he has a terrible poker face. Of course, he’d been too proud to just accept his defeat, so he kept asking for more rounds with bigger and bigger prizes until finally…

“Well, I think it’s about time I cashed out,” G.rimsley says with a thin smile. He stands up from the table, shuffling his cards back together.

“W-Wait, hold on, give me one more game! I know I’ve got this!” M.arashel demands. In all honesty, he could easily overpower G.rimsley if he really wanted to. But his pride wouldn’t allow it—he had to beat G.rimsley at the game. If he could just get one more game in…

“As much fun as it’s been, it’s always best that the game ends eventually.” G.rimsley walks around the table and stops at M.arashel’s side. “Besides, I’m rather famished. No hard feelings, M.arashel. For every winner, that has to be a loser…”

“I…” M.arashel can’t get the words out, his teeth grit tightly and his entire body tense. It makes his muscles bulge out and his mighty stature shake. A lithe hand gently rests on his shoulder and G.rimsley leans in closer. A swipe of the man’s tongue up the side of his face makes him tense and suck in a breath. He just knows that G.rimsley is enjoying this.

“…and for every predator, there has to be a prey,” G.rimsley adds, just as his jaws yawn open wide. M.arashel can’t look away from the pitch-black gullet before him. Appropriate, he thinks, for a Dark-type specialist. Even more so when those jaws finally lunge and his world goes dark.

G.rimsley grins wide, humming in approval around the head of his meal. He begins to gulp, hands moving to help ease M.arashel’s body into his jaws. It takes some effort to get those bulky shoulders wedged in, but once he manages that much, it’s rather smooth sailing. For his part, M.arashel is completely still, doing nothing to resist his fate as each thick gulp pulls him deeper and deeper toward an early tomb.

Once he’s past those large pecs and chiseled abs, G.rimsley begins to ease himself into the chair M.arashel had once been sitting in. He tips his head back, helping the man’s muscular legs up into the air so he can allow them to begin slipping down his gullet. His usually thin stomach is stretching obscenely, showing off a tight, detailed bulge of the beefy martial artist that’s being crammed inside. It must be incredibly uncomfortable…

M.arashel’s feet kick weakly as they sink down past G.rimsley’s lips. The gambler closes his eyes with a serene expression, keeping his jaws open as the last of his meal slurps down into the darkness of his gullet. A soft, content sigh escapes him and he feels the last of his winnings settle in the pit of his stomach. It’s soon interrupted by a deep, harsh belch that roars out of him and sends a slimy glove flying up into the air. It lands on the table with a wet splat.

G.rimsley slowly rubs over the taut bulge of M.arashel’s head, grinning from ear to ear. A bit of drool rubs down his chin but he doesn’t care to wipe it. He’s too busy enjoying the sensation of his engorged, pale stomach sitting before him between his legs.

“Thank you for such an exciting game,” G.rimsley says politely, rubbing over his stomach. “You were an excellent player.”

M.arashel can’t say anything. It’s taking all of his willpower to simply not go into a full-blown panic. So he sits there in the dank, tight, dark pit of G.rimsley’s stomach. Feeling the walls squeeze and churn over him, knowing that they will easily destroy his powerful body…his willpower is the only thing stopping him from snapping. If nothing else, he wanted to go down with his dignity

G.rimsley scoops up his cards to shuffle his deck together as his stomach churns and groans wetly. He has enough respect for M.arashel not to trade him anymore at this point. His stomach will be handling everything just fine from this point on anyway.

It’s a rough and messy process. G.rimsley’s tight stomach is constrictive and unkind, giving M.arashel little relief as he’s digested. His powerful body failing against the onslaught of digestion, the detailed bulges slowly losing their definition with time as he’s being smelted down. G.rimsley politely stifles belches into his fist as he plays a dividing game of solitaire to pass the time, giving M.arashel some privacy as he’s claimed.

Eventually, the man’s stomach rounds out with a wet churn and a final shudder of his meal. G.rimsley places the last cars down and stands up. His gut wobbles and sloshes wetly and a raunchy belch escapes him suddenly. The perfect game of solitaire is disturbed by a second glove splatting in the middle of it, scattering cards around. G.rimsley sighs and gently picks the glove up to put with the other.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” G.rimsley comments as he starts to scoop his cards up again. His guts burble and wobble, shrinking a little more. He knows from experience he’ll be back to his thin and trim build in no time. All that powerful, well-trained muscle providing little more than a meal and nothing else. The only proof of M.arashel’s existence will be the two gloves that came up…

And they’ll look very nice in G.rimsley’s chamber with the other trophies he has from various victories. Another harsh belch escapes G.rimsley as he begins to walk away, gut sloshing back and forth as it works hard. He’ll have to talk to A.lder about finding a new member of the E.lite Four. Although…with a swipe of his tongue over his lips, G.rimsley ponders if it might just be easier to offer a similar game to the champion. He has to wonder if the master plays better than the apprentice…

—

A.lola is such a beautiful region. It was a lovely place to spend some time, as G.rimsley decided while enjoying some time off. Why can’t a Dark type specialist like himself enjoy some ‘fun in the sun’, after all. Especially when his lovely S.harpedo seems to enjoy the warm sea waters so much.

Of course, he has come for another reason. He’d heard of N.anu, a fellow Dark-type specialist, and when there were so few to begin with, G.rimsley had simply been ecstatic to come and meet him properly. Sure, it seems like the office has his hands full with that whole Team Skull business, but G.rimsley hopes he can help the man unwind a bit…

A sudden belch escapes G.rimsley and he puts a hand to his mouth. “Oh, excuse me…” he murmurs to no one in particular. He reaches down with his other hand to rub over his stomach gently, feeling it shift and burble wetly. It hangs out of his kimono, basking in the warm sunlight on the beach.

Stuck inside, probably already half digested, is A.lola’s very own Dark-type specialist--N.anu. G.rimsley and the officer already have a bit of a rapport, and is the reason the E.lite Four member had come to this region. It had been mostly friendly, of course. But poor N.anu...he just can’t seem to step out of the shadows. Always sitting in that station of his, surrounded by M.eowth. G.rimsley couldn’t let such a thing just go on!

...well, N.anu isn’t getting all that much sunlight right now. If anything, it’s much, much darker where he is. Also, he might be a little digested right now. But isn’t that just the gamble you take? If he hadn’t been so difficult to get out there, maybe G.rimsley wouldn’t have taken such extreme measures. Another belch bubbles out of him, this one sending a shoe out of his jaws and plopping into the sand. G.rimsley sighs contently, rubbing over his gut. Does it look a little smaller? Well, in due time, it won’t be so ambiguous...

“If you had simply gone with me to the beach when I asked, I’m sure you would be enjoying the warmth of the sun rather than the warmth of my--” G.rimsley’s gut bulges from a sharp kick that makes his stomach slosh thickly, and another belch roars out of him. Well, at least he got the other shoe out after all. He rubs over his gut slowly now, giving it a few pats. Definitely looks smaller. “I did tell you that you’d be going no matter what...suppose that’s a gamble you lost on, hm?” He chuckles himself as he goes back to enjoying the tropical weather and the delicious food that’s come with it.

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

(*^*) ★彡 Absol I love your Trey works so much I never see ANYONE write for him! If requests are open can you maybe do some more? Fem!reader (n.n;) if that’s okay? Dubious cause reader is just a big dummy and needs Trey to take care of her. (>w<) if that’s okay!

Sugar Rush

A/N: That makes me happy that Trey is getting popular. I have seen a few people write for him, I am happy to recommend some writers for you any time.

tags: Trey Clover x fem!reader, dubcon, blowjobs wc: 1.3k+

“I worry about you a lot.” Trey huffed, tugging down the back of your skirt. You didn’t realize anything was exposed. “Aww thank you! You’re such a sweetheart Trey!” You beamed up at the taller man with your heart swelling in your chest. You were known for your lack of special awareness. Ace and Deuce playfully accused you for faking it, wanting to look cute for Trey so he would fuss over you. But it was the truth. You just weren’t able to perceive most things around you. 

You bumped into people at least twice a day, you’ve almost sprained your ankle three times this semester, and the amount of times you’ve hiked your skirt up too high or forgot to button your shirt properly is unrecordable. But Trey always came to rescue you.

He would pull you into a corner and fix your tie, buttoning your shirt and vest, smoothing wrinkles in your blazer and tugging your skirt down to meet dress code. He would catch you before you fell and got hurt with the help of his strong arms hugging you tight against him. And usually he would come and defend you from whoever you bumped into…  Or maybe he was worried about the attention you would get. Being the only girl at an all boys boarding school wasn’t really ideal. Even if the societal norms were different from your world, you sometimes would hear unsavory conversations passing the mouths of students you had never interacted with in the past. Some of the conversations had you as the topic. 

The shape and curve of your body. How they wanted to tug your hair back as they forced you on your hands and knees. How they wanted to practically ruin your life just because you said hi to them one day in the halls before classes. 

You liked that Trey fussed and worried about you, because you knew that he wouldn’t speak of you like those gross perverts. Trey was nice. Trey was like an older brother figure for you. A hot older brother that you had no relation to. “See, you’re daydreaming again.” He sighed and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you close to his body. A group of boys raced in the opposite direction, nearly knocking you to the floor if not for Trey’s strong hold. His body was firm, his arms strong from his experience baking and kneading dough. “But I can do that cause you always help me out!” You smiled again and hugged onto his arm, pressing it against the valley of your breasts with your cheek pressed against his thick limb. “I help you because you can barely help yourself.” Exasperation this time. Your lips curled into a pout as you allowed Trey to lead you to class. “And I don’t do this because I actually want to. You just look helpless. You need to take responsibility for once.” He seemed irritated as you relaxed against him, eyes glancing in the direction of a small group of male students whispering and eyeing you up and down. 

They were just jealous that you preferred Trey over anyone else. “Actually…” He slowed to a stop and glanced down at you still clinging to his arm. There was a looming feeling of danger now. You loosened your grip on Trey’s arm, wondering if maybe you took something too far. “Come with me for a bit.” He wasn’t asking you; he was telling you. With your fingers still curled around his sleeve you walked with Trey in the opposite direction of your shared classroom. He walked you towards the empty alchemy lab and you noticed the lack of students in the wing of the school. “Where are we going?” You asked with a nervous smile as he nudged you into the empty lab. 

“Alchemy lab. Just for a little bit.” Trey pulled the door shut with a soft click. You looked around with your heart pounding against your ribs. Trey didn’t look angry, it was something else. “You really do need to take responsibility for yourself.” He hummed, watching you back into an empty lab table. “What are you going to do if I’m not around? What if someone takes advantage of you?” Trey asked with a soft chuckle. You laced your fingers behind your back with a silent shrug of your shoulders. You weren’t sure how to answer his question. You always sought out Trey, no matter what. The idea of something going wrong wasn’t something you considered in the past.

“You don’t know?” He whispered, closing in on you with his eyes starting to darken. His honeyed gaze seared into your flesh as he outstretched a hand and pointed to the tiled floor. “Kneel.” Trey’s voice was soft, sweet like caramel drizzled over the delicate curls of your brain. A heat began to pool between your thighs and you sank to your knees with a nervous expression. His hand held the back of your head and pulled you close so your lips brushed the crotch of his trousers. Your nose rubbed against the cool metal of his belt buckle as he curled his opposite hand into a tight fist. “You understand what I’m asking for?” Trey spoke as your hands shakily pressed against his thighs. “Um… You want me to do it?” You didn’t think Trey saw you like this. You didn’t mind since it was Trey, but it felt wrong at the same time. Trey is like a hottie older brother who swats you on the back and tells you good job. Not someone who convinces you to thank him for his niceness with a sloppy blowjob. 

Trey pulled your head flush against him. “It’s part of taking responsibility.” Your lips slightly parted as he began to hurriedly loosen his belt. There was the jingle of metal as he pulled it free, soon came his button and zipper as you watched with wide eyes. A soft whine passed your lips as his cock was now freed. His hand remained on the back of your head as he took his cock and tapped it against the soft flesh of your cheek. You weren’t exactly skilled in this field. But you couldn’t refuse the situation either. 

You needed to speak up, but before you had the chance, Trey pressed the crown of his cock against your lips. Your eyes darted up at him then back to the flushed tip. Wet and sticky with seminal fluid. You didn’t really want to. But you would since it was Trey. Your lips opened, and quickly closed around the tip. Your thighs pressing tightly together as you let Trey guide your head for you. Forcing you back and forth to suck and swallow the salty taste of his velvety skin. “You can suck harder.” His voice was breathless with light snaps of his hips against your face. Your hands gripped the fabric of his black trousers. Drool began to collect in your mouth, sliding down your chin as you looked up at Trey with watery eyes. It was getting hard to breathe now. Having him hump into your face, forcing your head still as you gagged and drooled over his thick cock. Having your nose buried at his base, being tickled by the wiry dark green hairs. Your face burned with shame from how much you were enjoying it. A familiar sticky film clung to the cottony insert. You allowed your jaw to fall slack as you moaned around his cock. You sucked and slurped, squeezing your eyes shut as tears welled in your eyes as Trey moaned above you with a long string of curses passing his lips. The mushroomy tip smacked into the back of your throat roughly. The feeling of him throbbing against your tongue and the pistoning against your face. His hands gripped at the back of your head and yanked you against his lap. Holding you firmly in place as he rutted against your face with a few final throbs. A strangled ‘fuuuck’ left his lips as the warm flood of sperm filled your mouth. Trey’s hands shook as you inhaled and exhaled through your nose. You blinked away tears as Trey continued to hold your head in place. Forcing you to swallow with a struggled gulp around his slowly softening cock.

[starbandit]

Heat Wave (K.S.J)

Requested- hi i was wondering if you could write any seokjin smut? um make it crazy if you want or don’t, i’m really bad at these sorry 😭

Contains- oral (m&f!receiving) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

word count- 1.5k/unedited

You sighed as you walked into your bedroom from the hallway. A nice, cool, afternoon shower was all you had needed in the extreme heat. Your heart nearly stopped when you shut the door and noticed a figure lounging on your bed. “What the hell?” You gasped. 

“Well hello to you too,” Seokjin dropped his phone on the bed. “I used the key under the doormat to get in, you should probably pick a better hiding spot.” Your boyfriend stated. “You don’t want any weirdos coming in while you're in the shower.” 

“Like the one sitting on my bed right now?” You raised an eyebrow. 

He scoffed. “Exactly,” He scanned your body. You were still wrapped in the towel from your shower, holding it closed tightly with your hand. You watched as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting the supple flesh. “Can you… Can you drop the towel for me, baby?” He questioned softly. 

You smirked at him. “What’s in it for me, Jinnie?” 

“Hmm…” He rubbed his chin. “How about I give you the best orgasm of your life?” He asked. 

“Wow, setting some high expectations there, babe.” You teased. You let your hand fall off the towel and the fabric fell to the floor. Seokjin smiled at the sight of your naked body. He lightly scanned down, from your shoulders, to the way your breasts sat, over the soft curves of your tummy, the smooth, glistening skin of your legs. All his. 

“Eyes are up here, buddy.” You joked, crawling onto the bed to sit next to him. You sat back on your heels next to his hip, hand coming to rest on the fabric of his jeans. You lightly traced your fingers over his hips. You slowly leaned down, catching him in a steamy kiss. You lightly nipped at his lip before pulling away. 

“Sit on my face.” 

You nearly choked on your spit. “Excuse me?” 

He chuckled and reached a hand up, cupping your jaw. “You heard me.” He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Sit on my face.” 

You hummed as he slipped his thumb into your mouth, running the pad of his finger over your tongue. You gently closed your lips around the finger and sucked before pulling off with a pop. “Lay down.” 

Seokjin let out an excited squeal and sunk down into the bed, leaving you enough space to straddle his head. “Hop on!” He reached over to grab your thigh. 

You giggled and prepared yourself. You scooted over and straddled his chest, looking down at him. “Are you sure about this?” You questioned softly. 

He rolled his eyes. “Are you asking me if I want my incredibly hot, sexy, girlfriend to sit on my face?” He reached up to grip your ass. “You better hop on and ride, baby.” His fingers kneaded at the soft flesh. 

You took a deep breath before scooting forward again, hovering over his face. Your hands reached up to grip the headboard as you lowered yourself onto his face, still leaving most of your body weight on your knees. 

Seokjin hummed against you, nuzzling his face into your heat. He started giving you gentle licks, gauging how you reacted to each of the motions of his tongue. You gasped as he sunk his tongue into you, licking all around. 

He continued for a few moments before pulling away with a deep breath. “Fuck, you taste so good.” He adjusted his body slightly. “Put your full weight on me.” He tugged at your hips. “Please, want you to sit on me.” 

“Seokjin, I’m gonna suffocate you.” You looked down at his face in between your legs. His lips and chin were shiny from you, cheeks tinged pink. 

“You won’t.” He insisted. “Please, I’ll pinch you if I can’t breathe.” 

You sighed and allowed him to pull you all the way down, fully resting your weight on his face. A loud moan left Seokjin's mouth. He began to eat you out more enthusiastically, small moans and grunts leaving his mouth. 

You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the moans you were letting out. You gently rocked your hips in an attempt to get a little more friction. Seokjin hummed at the movement and stuck his tongue out, allowing you to grind on him. You groaned and rocked forward, using his tongue to get the spots you needed him most. “S-shit.” You reached a hand down to pull on his hair. 

Seokjin dug his fingertips into your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to his face. Loud pants left your mouth as you continued to use his tongue, pushing yourself closer to release. You began to lose your rhythm and sloppily rocked your hips over his mouth, trying to chase your orgasm. Your boyfriend noticed this and began to rock your hips for you. Shit, there was no way you would last much longer like this. 

The muscles in your legs tensed up and you squeezed Seokjin's head between your thighs as you released. He moaned against you, lapping up your wetness with long, lazy licks. You whimpered as you sat back, putting your weight on his chest. 

“Why’d you stop?” He questioned, face glistening with your release. 

“I need a second.” Your heart was racing in your ears. You took a few deep breaths as Seokjin rubbed your thighs. Goose bumps formed under the touch. “Fuck, where did that come from?” You questioned. 

He shrugged the best he could under your weight. “Been doing some reading online.” A smile formed on his face. “Thought I could try some stuff out.” 

You hummed. “Hmm… Wanna show me again?” You questioned. 

He nodded enthusiastically which made a giggle leave your mouth. “I also want to try something…” You shifted your body, flipping over so your face was over his crotch. You unbuttoned his jeans and slowly unzipped them, pulling the fabric down enough to access the bulge in his underwear. 

You leaned down, taking his clothed cock into your mouth, gently running your tongue over the length. He let out a shaky breath under you. “Shit,” He whispered. 

You wiggled your hips in his face and let out a soft gasp as he grabbed your hips and buried his face back into your pussy, licking feverishly. You tugged his boxers down, releasing his cock from the cloth. He was rock hard, the tip was deep red and leaking precum. You stared for a moment, admiring him, before taking him into your mouth. The salty precum hit the back of your tongue and you hummed around him. 

Seokjin let out a moan against your pussy which only made you want to do more. You propped yourself up some more and wrapped your hand around the base, jerking him off in time with your mouth. The weight of his cock in your mouth was heavenly, something you would never get sick of. You continued to suck, creating slight pressure in your mouth. 

Seokjin was struggling to keep it together. He was panting against you but still attempting messy licks. His breath was hot against your cunt as you wiggled back a little, trying to get some more friction from him. He began to focus his attention on your clit, giving short, fast licks to the sensitive bud. 

You groaned around his cock once more, pulling off with a ‘pop’. You buried your face in his hip for a second, still slowly jerking him off as he continued his assault on your clit. “Fuck, Jinnie.” You whimpered. 

His cock dripped onto the lower part of his stomach. You whimpered at the sight and forced yourself back up, taking him back into your mouth. You swallowed him all the way down, not stopping until your nose was pressed against his balls. Seokjin let out a loud moan, hands coming down to grip your hair. You gagged slightly before taking a deep breath, letting your eyes water as you swallowed around him. 

A string of curse words left his mouth as his hips twitched up. “S-shit,” He let out a gasp. “Fuck, babe, I’m not gonna last.” He moaned against your pussy. 

You hummed a confirmation back to him and bobbed your head, focusing your tongue on the tip of his cock. Jin continued his ministrations on your clit, caressing it with his tongue in the most intoxicating way. You were both chasing after an orgasm, and boy were you getting close. 

Seokjin gave a harsh thrust up, pushing his cock to the back of your throat. You gagged around him, tears welling up in your eyes. He let out a whine as his cock twitched against your tongue and thick, salty ropes painted your throat and the back of your tongue. You hummed around him, swallowing down the release. You followed close behind, soaking his chin and the neckline of his t-shirt. 

You rode out your orgasm on his face, while his cock began to soften in your mouth. You pulled off, not before giving him a few final licks to ‘clean up’. You rolled off him, settling into the sheets to catch your breath. Seokjin reached down to gently caress your shin. 

A comfortable silence fell over the room. Seokjin continued to run his fingers over your shin as the two of you caught your breath. The heat was finally sinking in and the sweat was making both of you sticky. 

“Babe?” 

You hummed in response. 

“Why is your apartment so fucking hot?”

[britany1997]

Sunkissed

Pool Boy! Michael x Fem! Rich! Reader

Hope y’all enjoy this collab @misslavenderlady and I did based off a poll she did about a pool boy fic:) we did equal work on this fic so please interact with both posts equally!!! Writing with Lave is so much fun! She’s kind and encouraging and they deserve the love!!!

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, brat/brat tamer, soft dom, thigh fucking, praise kink, don/sub dynamics, massage, nipple play, semi public sex, cum marking, aftercare

Working during the summertime wasn't something that bothered Michael. He wasn't really the type of guy to waste the days sleeping in or going to bonfire parties. There was an itch within him to keep moving, get some work done, tackle some chores or pick up an odd job. He simply couldn't keep still for long. 

So in between his beach cleaning gig, he managed to find some clients who would pay him as a pool cleaner. People in Santa Carla who had their own private pools were quite generous with money, and that certainly motivated Michael to take on the jobs. 

Being that he was an incredibly handsome young man with a hardworking, polite personality, he gained quite a bit of popularity amongst the ladies of Santa Carla. He paid them no mind though. He just wanted to get his work done.

Your parents had hired him to take care of the pool while they were in Aruba for the summer. Though he couldn’t deny that the vision of your bikini-clad, sunbathing form was a beautiful sight, he’d figured you’d be no different from any of the other girls that threw themselves at him.

He looked over subtly to see your nimble fingers flipping through the pages of Cosmopolitan while sipping a smoothie. He rolled his eyes to himself. Yeah, you weren’t any different. Michael unclipped his sunglasses from his shirt and slid them on before taking out a net to skim leaves and debris off the surface of the pool.

Little did Michael know that your eyes weren't on the magazine in your hands. Hidden behind your designer sunglasses, your gaze was right on the handsome guy. You used to think that girls crushing on pool boys was a laughable cliche. After all, your family has previously hired the most dimwitted guys who half-assed their work. Such a turn-off. 

But Michael wasn't like that at all. He was actually a hard worker and put some real muscle into the tasks he was given. And he looked DAMN good doing it. 

That perfect, glowing skin, those strong arms, and those eyes that were bluer than the water in the pool. You had a big, fat crush on the guy, and you were going to milk this for all it was worth. 

"Hey Mikey!" you called out to him in between sips of your drink. "You missed a spot by the steps!" 

A nonexistent spot that was chosen in an area where you could get a better view of his back muscles, of course. 

Michael cringed at the nickname, but still headed over to clean the imaginary grime from the spot to humor you. 

Your lips turned up into a satisfied smile as you watched his muscles ripple. You sucked down the last of your smoothie as you imagined what it would be like to suck on something else.

As Michael finished amusing you, the sound of your fingers snapping garnered his attention. He watched as a suit-clad man rushed towards you so that you could set your empty smoothie glass on his silver tray. 

“Strawberry banana this time,” you ordered the man, “and no chunks, you know I hate that.” Your nose crinkled in disgust at the thought of a non-smooth smoothie.

Michael quirked an eyebrow, watching your little display while cleaning the sediment from the pool walls. 

"You know, it's already unfair enough that he has to wait on you like you're a little princess. Do you really have to make him do it in that monkey suit?" Michael quipped. 

Your pretty, red lips pulled up into a smirk. You angled your sunglasses downward to watch him more carefully. 

"I'm not the one who assigned the uniform, honey. But by all means, don't feel pressured to do the same. You can wear whatever you want around here~"

All you could think about was getting him from a bathing suit to a birthday suit. You’d spent many days by the pool imagining that hunk finally showing you all of what he was blessed with. You had to find a good way to thank your parents for hiring him.

Michael pursed his lips, but before he could reply, your butler returned with your smoothie. 

You took the cup from the tray, wrapping your full lips around the pink, swirly straw and sucking a bit to make sure it was to your liking, smiling as the flavors hit your tongue. 

“Thanks, Jeeves, that’s all for now,” you dismissed him with a flick of your wrist.

The man gave a little bow before heading back into the house, you presumed to go and dust some of your mother’s beloved antiques. 

Michael shook his head. “Is that even his name?” he asked.

“Dunno,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders, “not my job to know it.”

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. You pouted as your view was obscured. 

“You’re a real spoiled brat you know?” 

Your jaw dropped at his boldness, but you quickly regained your composure. “Didn’t know you had that in ya Mikey,” you teased. “Whatcha gonna do about it, spank me?”

The Emerson boy was no dummy. He knew exactly what you were trying to do. You liked playing around with boy toys without any consequences. Well, that would never fly in everyday life. All the struggle and humbleness his family experienced helped him realize that. 

He was going to make certain you learned a lesson about the real world. 

Michael let the net fall from his hand, the cleaning device splashing loudly into the water below. Curiosity rose within you as he stepped closer to your spot. Soon enough Michael was hovering over you, seeing you down while he slipped his glasses down and gazed at you with those piercing baby blues. 

"No. You're gonna apologize for being a little brat."

You nearly choked on that last sip of smoothie you had. Your head was spinning at that statement. 

"Excuse me?? Who the fuck do you think you're talking t-"

"Stop that!" 

Your words were cut down with a mere raise of his voice. To your own surprise, you felt yourself tremble beneath him. Between his height over you and the booming sound of his words, you were suddenly feeling quite small compared to him.

"Bad girls don't get what they want. Only good girls do. So," Michael began. In one swift motion, he grabbed the glass in your hand and effortlessly plucked it out of your grasp. "you're gonna be a good little lady and apologize for your behavior. It's the only way you're getting this back."

You sat up on your lawn chair in shock. Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again. It felt like one of those novelty-singing fish your dad had hanging over the fireplace at your winter chalet.

While you didn’t want to give in, you also wanted your smoothie back…and despite yourself, Michael kind of made you want to be a good girl. You cleared your throat before speaking. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Michael scoffed and leaned forward. “What was that?” he teased.

You huffed at him. “I said, I’m sorry… Michael, I’m very sorry.” 

He smiled and handed you your cup. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he leaned forward to kiss your cheek and pat your head softly. 

You gasped as your cheeks turned bright pink at his touch.

If Michael had noticed your embarrassment, he didn’t let on. When he pulled away from your cheek, he picked up his net as if nothing had happened and returned to his work. 

You laid back in shock, that was not how you’d expected the day to go. Your blush deepened as you realized your bikini bottoms had dampened and not from the pool water. You liked being Michael’s good girl.

Lost in your own thoughts, you missed Michael’s smirking face as he shot you subtle glances. He could tell you’d never had anyone tell you what to do your entire life. He’d enjoy being the first. Hmm, maybe you were different.

Although your mind was swimming with confusion and flirtatious thoughts of Michael, you still had enough focus to go about your routine. Every day the sun was out you got some tanning done before doing laps in the pool. By the time Michael was finished, it would be perfect for your swim. 

Until then, you were going to get that gorgeous summer glow that would be the envy of all your other rich friends. 

With a deep breath and a shake of your head, you reached under your chair to grab hold of the trusty bottle of tanning oil you preferred. You gave it a hefty shake before holding out your palm to take some in.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Michael's voice stopped you in your tracks. If the smoothie stealing hadn't shocked you before, this certainly did. 

"What??"

The curly-haired boy tsked while shaking his head in sheer disappointment. He crossed his arms over his strong chest as he eyed you once again. 

"You're going to get skin cancer with the stuff. You better put on sunblock or you're gonna turn into a raisin, little lady."

You pouted and whimpered without even thinking, the pink tinge returning to your cheeks. “But I don’t have any sunblock,” you admitted.

Michael sighed overdramatically, “what am I gonna do with you?” he lightly scolded before running to his bag.

“We can share mine,” he told you. “Lay down for me.”

You scrambled to do as he asked, laying out on your stomach on the lawn chair. Though you couldn’t see him from your position, his lips were curled up at your obedience. You were a quick learner. 

“That’s my good girl,” he purred as his hands skimmed the small of your back teasingly.

You could only bury your face deep against the chair so he wouldn't catch the deeper shade of blush on your face. He was already making you feel so flustered, yet his fingers were only touching a small part of you. 

"Better get rid of this so I don't make a mess."

Before you could even think to ask what he meant, your ears were greeted by the sound of fabric being scrunched before something was tossed to the side of your lounge chair. A tiny squeak fell from your lips as you caught sight of Michael's shirt on the ground.

There was no way this was happening. Your pool boy was going to rub sunblock on you while half-naked. The more you thought about it, the wetter your bikini bottoms got. 

"Gotta get a good, thick layer of this on ya, okay?" Michael spoke, slathering the cream onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together to warm it up some. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle."

“You don’t have to be…” you whispered to yourself more than anyone, but he smirked all the same.

Michael began to knead the sunscreen into your shoulders and back softly. He was almost as good as your massage therapist. You made a mental note to offer him that position when his pool cleaning gig was up. You wanted to keep him around for as long as possible, no matter what. 

When Michael finished with your upper half, he moved to your legs, running his fingers up and down your calves, coating your skin. As his hands began to drag up your thighs, you felt yourself grow warmer and it wasn’t from the sun. It took everything in you not to moan at his gentle caresses.

You knew Michael’s hands were likely calloused from all the hard work he did, but his feather-light touches felt so soft. His fingers skimmed the hem of your bikini bottoms as he continued to rub the sunscreen into your skin. Though you hadn’t thought it was possible, you could feel your face burn even hotter. 

You moved to flip onto your back, but Michael splayed a hand on your back, keeping you pressed into the chair. “Be good and still for me. Okay, honey?”

God, he really was a dream. The way Michael was on top of you and giving orders was driving you wild. You couldn't stop yourself from nibbling just a bit on your bottom lip. 

"O-Okay," you stuttered. When he decided he was ready, he flipped you onto your back, causing a gasp to leave your lips. You didn’t dare to say anything, you still wanted to be his good girl. 

The way the rays of the sun shined down on his sculpted body looked too perfect. Your eyes watched carefully as he spread another coat of sunblock onto his hands. He started with your stomach, massaging the area as he had done with your back. Once again, the lulling comfort of relaxation fell over you thanks to his touch. 

You didn't have a worry or care being like this with Michael. He was so firm, yet so gentle with you. Now that he could see your face, that was far more clear to him. 

The moment of peace was only interrupted when Michael took hold of your thighs.

"Wh-What're yo-"

"Shh shhhh, don't be scared, honey," Michael cooed, his soft words contrasting with how he threw your ankles onto his shoulder. "I gotta get all of those special spots on your skin~"

You followed Michael's orders and kept still and silent. While you were internally freaking out, he was casually rubbing sunblock along the length of your perfect legs. He pushed himself closer to you, his hips grazing the special spot where your bikini bottoms were. 

When he finished with your legs, he leaned over you, his brown curls falling around his face like a halo. 

He moved even closer, the curve of your ass rested on his thighs while your legs were still slung over his shoulder. You opened your mouth to speak but he shushed you. 

Michael glanced down at your right hand, resting by the side of your head, and moved to lace his fingers with yours. Your heart warmed at the feeling of your hands pressed together. There was something so sweet and intimate about how he held your hand. 

His other hand fiddled with your bikini top, pulling gently at the strings. “Now that I’ve done your back…” he traced a finger over your collarbone, “do you want me to do your front?”

You almost couldn't believe this was happening. Not too long ago Michael was rolling his eyes at you while scooping leaves out of your pool. Now he was offering to strip you down and get extra handsy with the sunblock. 

All those times you acted like a spoiled princess seemed so stupid now. Why would you keep misbehaving when you could give in and let Michael treat you like a good girl? Like HIS good girl. 

"Yes, Michael," you whispered. 

With his striking baby blues focused on you, he pulled the string of your top. The fabric slipped off with ease, revealing your breasts to him. Even with just a glance at your body, you could see the hazed look of lust take over on his face. It made your skin burn hotter than ever. 

"Perky little thing, aren't you?" He cooed. His fingers glided down your chest and over the nipples presented before him. The heat of his body contrasted with the coldness of the lotion, toying with your sensitive spots quite a bit. 

If that didn't make you whimper with lust, the feeling of his erection poking your thigh certainly did. 

You shouldn't have been surprised, given he was a hot-blooded man enjoying a shirtless lady underneath him. Then again, you were more than happy to find out he had an impressive size. You couldn’t remember the last time you enjoyed yourself with a guy.

“Hmm,” Michael hummed, faking concern.

“What is it?” you asked with a pout, worried you’d done something wrong.

“The sunscreen, it’s not gonna stay on here,” he said as his fingers skimmed over your nipples once more. “Too wet.”

“What?” your brow furrowed in confusion, “How are they-” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence when Michael’s mouth sealed around your breast. You gasped and arched your back into his mouth, loving the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. The hand that wasn’t clasping his found its place in his perfect brown curls. When he’d finished toying with you he pulled back. 

“See? Way too wet,” he told you with a wink. You could only mutter a flustered ‘mhmm’ in response.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Michael dove right back in, continuing his work with your other nipple. He let out a soft groan around the flesh, clearly aroused by how you felt in his mouth. Instead of swirling his tongue again, he sucked gently, stimulating you quite a bit. 

"Ooooh god~" you sighed. The grip of your fingers in his hair grew tighter as your arousal got stronger. You were dripping wet for Michael at this point. Your brain was completely clouded while your body took in all of the pleasure. 

"You taste so good, honey. Makes me want you even more than I already do."

Now you were REALLY hot and bothered. Michael's voice sounded so husky and hungry to you. The more he toyed with you, the stronger your need for him got. 

"Michael," you whimpered out. 

"Hmm? What's going on, honey?" he smirked, playing dumb with you. It only made you even whinier. 

"I need more! Please….please don't tease me…."

Michael laughed softly to himself. He dragged a finger down your abdomen, making your stomach muscles clench. “You wanna feel me in here?” he stroked his finger over your clothed pussy lightly.

You had never had to beg for anything in your life, and Michael could tell. Tears started to well in your eyes and your lip popped out as you nodded.

He pretended to consider your request, “I don’t know honey, do you think you’ve earned it?”

Now the tears had started to roll down your cheeks as you knew the answer to that question, maybe you could convince him otherwise?

“Yes…yes Michael I’ve earned it,” you swore.

Michael sighed. “You were mean to your butler, you teased me…doesn’t sound like good girl behavior to me.”

“But- but I apologized! And I was so good just now! I- please Michael,” you begged for the second time in your life.

“Don’t talk back baby,” Michael scolded and your lips immediately clamped shut. “Still,” he considered, “you have a point, I guess you have tried to be good for me today…maybe I can give you something.”

You would have done anything for him. “Thank you, Michael! I’ll be so good, I promise!”

“Yeah? You gonna be good and take what you’re given,” he smirked.

“Yes! Yes, Michael! Whatever you want.”

He loved the sound of that. Even if Michael was acting stern with you, he was still a very giving and kind lover. He wouldn't let your pleading fall on deaf ears. 

His hands moved gracefully, taking hold of each side of your bikini. You softly mewled from the sensation of a nearby breeze on your exposed bottom half once the last piece of clothing was discarded. Michael was left positively ravenous at the sight of such a wet, glistening pussy. 

"Holy shit," he sighed, running his tongue over his lips. "God, I gotta show you what you're doing to me, baby." 

It didn't take long for you to figure out what that meant. Far less gentle with himself than with you, Michael practically tore off his swim trunks. In mere seconds, his cock sprang out, thick and twitching with arousal. 

Your mouth fell open and your eyes shimmered at such a sight. He was so impressive. 

"Oooh my~" you said. "How'd you hide a big thing like that all this time?" 

"I dunno. But I guess I can't help how it shows when I got you under me, honey~"

Michael took hold of your thighs again, gently touching them as he pushed his body close to you. Your perfect breasts pushed up against his toned chest while he pressed his forehead against yours. You could smell the gum on his breath and it made you feel positively desperate to kiss him. 

"Listen closely," Michael whispered to you. "If you want to stop at any time, please don't be afraid to say so. I'll take care of you, but I need to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

Your heart raced from his words. Even when he was teasing, he was still so sweet with you. Michael sure beat all the arrogant trust fund assholes you’d messed around with in the past. He was a special guy.

“I understand, and I’ll tell you if I need to stop,” you promised.

Michael smiled down at you, “That’s my good girl,” he cupped your cheek before his hands gripped your thighs once more.

You bit your lip, “Michael?”

“Mhmm,” he stopped what he was doing and met your gaze. His lips pulled up into a smile at your blushing face. 

“Can I have a kiss before you start? Please?” you asked.

Michael’s smile grew even wider at such a cute request. He was proud of himself for seemingly taming you into his perfect, good girl in less than a day. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before beginning to grind against your thighs softly. You gasped at the friction, he was barely touching you and you already felt like you could come apart on your lawn chair.

Before you could whine for a proper kiss, Michael ceased any teasing and went right in. His lips were perfect in every way. Warm, soft, and fit so well with your own. Never before had a boy made you positively melt from just a first kiss. 

But Michael wasn't going to stop the passion there. He was a romantic at heart and wanted to keep you happy. With one hand caressing your cheek and the other grazing over one of your legs, he moved his body with yours some more. 

"My good girl~" he groaned. The tip of his cock was pushed past your thighs, so achingly close to your cunt. He let each inch of his length through as well. The two of you each let out a moan as his cock brushed over your pussy lips, getting soaked with just a small touch. 

"Keep your legs nice and tight for me, okay? I'm gonna fuck your pretty thighs like this~"

You nodded furiously and whimpered at his words. He smiled down at you. “You’re so cute like this, such a pretty girl for me.”

You beamed at his praise as you clenched your thighs tightly around him. His head fell to the crook of your neck and he moaned as you squeezed him. Your arms immediately gripped the lawn chair as your body felt overcome by the feeling of his cock brushing up against you.

“Do you hear how good you’re making me feel, baby?” he asked. “You’re being such an angel right now, holding me so tight. That’s my girl.” 

You sighed blissfully, ‘his girl.’ He had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t even care.

Michael rolled his hips into your thighs at a slow and steady rhythm, occasionally brushing against your pussy and making you see stars.

"Mmmh! M-Michael~" you sighed out for him. You hadn't expected this to feel so amazing. He didn't even need to penetrate you to get your body going. The way his cock pushed against your thighs and clit was just so perfect. Even if you couldn't have more, you still loved what it was now. 

"Pretty little princess, arentcha~?" he cooed in your ear. Michael grabbed your hips tighter and thrust his hips at a faster pace. He tugged you upward a bit, letting your lower half lift from the chair. 

He brought his mouth to yours again, kissing you deeply while he fucked you. The precum dripping from the tip of his cock made your thighs and pussy so very slippery. He just made you so warm all over, and you didn't want it to stop for even a moment.

You wanted to touch him so badly, to wrap your fingers in his brown curls and pull, or to grip his toned shoulders as he fucked you, not so gently. But you knew better than to do anything without permission.

You managed to let out a breathy, “Michael…” between whimpers and moans. “Mhmm?” his tone has an almost condescending tinge to it, but you didn’t care. Maybe you didn’t mind being put in your place a little.

“Let me touch you? Please?” you begged.

Michael’s lips parted in shock. He had to hold back a snide remark about how the brat had already been fucked out of you, and he wasn’t even in you. Oh, but you were so vulnerable like this with your eyes glassed over and your supple lips pressed into the prettiest pout. Michael was a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel.

He smirked down at you, not letting up from his pace, but moving closer to your clit with each thrust, a little reward for asking for what you wanted. “Where do you wanna touch me honey?”

He shifted his weight to support himself with one hand, while he grasped your hand sweetly with the other. 

"I won't lie, I've been wanting to touch this body of yours all summer," you admitted. 

Michael seemed to enjoy that statement quite a bit. He was a humble guy, but it was still nice to get his ego fluffed up a bit with compliments. 

"Then, by all means, enjoy yourself~"

He kept up the motions of his rocking while he allowed you to do as you wished with his body. Your manicured fingers traced over the dips and curves of his muscles. You couldn't help but squeeze his pecs and abs. It turned you on seeing someone so perfectly sculpted and toned above your writhing body. 

There was no hiding the fact that he felt the same way about you. Even when you were acting like a spoiled brat, you were a very SEXY spoiled brat. One with a gorgeous figure to caress and cherish as he pleased

His heart swelled with pride as you touched him softly, your eyes always searching his face to ensure you weren’t taking too much or being too greedy. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re being so good for me, sweetheart. Think you deserve a reward~”

You gasped as his thumb brushed across your clit. You could have cum right then and there. He began to move his thumb in soft circles, pulling gasps and moans from your perfect lips. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

“Love how you touch me, baby,” Michael purred into your ear, “Needed to return the favor.”

You whimpered beneath him, totally intoxicated by the pleasure he was giving you. “I’m close,” you admitted, blushing.

He sighed happily, your words music to his ears. “Then be a good girl and cum for me ok?” Michael patronized, feeling how much you enjoyed his tone.

God, there was no holding back when he talked to you like that. The jolts of pleasure were rushing through your body, charging you up like electricity. With your hand gripping him tightly and your legs locking more firmly, you felt yourself get closer and closer with every second. 

Michael wasn't far behind you. It was quite easy to catch up with how much you had stimulated him. He grunted and moaned as he fucked your thighs and toyed with your clit at a faster pace. He was dying to see that beautiful face make an expression of truly amazing pleasure.

"FUCK!! Fuck, Michael!!! Yes!! Aaah~" you cried out. Your voice echoed out into the California air as the orgasm hit your body with full force. If Michael's cock and fingers weren't soaked already, they certainly were now. 

The sound of your pleasured screams triggered his own release mere moments later. Thick, white shots of cum splashed onto your soft thighs and stomach, properly marking you as Michael's girl. 

He stared down at you and smiled to himself, God you were a pretty sight. He bent down from his arms to his elbows and laid on your chest, arms wrapping around you in a sweet embrace. Now you were covered with him in more ways than one.

Instinctively, your arms snaked around him and your fingers began to draw circles on his back. Michael smiled softly, enjoying the lovely sensation as he pressed wet kisses on your cheeks, your jawline, and your neck. 

“You with me baby?” he asked as he tucked sweaty strands of hair behind your ear. 

You sighed happily, “Yeah.” Your cheeks were a pretty shade of pink as you smiled at him. “I like when you call me baby.”

He laughed softly. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“I like when you call me Mikey.”

You could have melted right there.

Michael grinned as he began to push up from the chair, but your sudden, tight grip on his waist stopped him. He looked down at your pitiful pout. 

“Gotta clean you up sweet girl,” he said as he stroked your cheek.

“Later, I promise,” you bargained. “For now can you just…hold me?”

His lips pulled up into a bright smile before he settled on top of you, laying his head on your chest. “For as long as you want, baby.” Your mom and dad may have been in Aruba, but you were in heaven.

Taglist❤️:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @crustyboypix @ghoulgeousimmaculate @anna1306 @consuming-karma @bloodywickedvamp @warrior-616 @ria-coolgirl @lostboys1987girl @chiefdirector @mickkmaiden333 @solobagginses @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @flower-crowned-lady @vampirefilmlover @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @arbesa-mind @its-freaking-bats @metal4horses @rynsfandomsfun @f4iryfxies @memphiscity69

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Can I say, one of my big headcanons with Killer is that he would NOT be a smooth talker if he ever got in a relationship with someone.

That guy spent years studying those around him to keep them from being too enraged at him, so I don't doubt that he'd do something like that in a romantic relationship too. He'd be attentive (often to a creepy extreme, but I feel like anyone getting in a relationship with him would reasonably expect a bit of stalking). But there was never any benefit in learning to flirt and stuff like that.

My man would get flirted with and his brain would do the Windows error sound.

I desperately need to see him be an awkward mess sometimes and will probably write it myself at some point (colorkiller is really tempting my hand. I don't usually write ship content but DAMN)

I once read a fanfic where the author headcanon’d that the reason Stage 2 develops things like flirting is because he read Alphys’ old mangas/comics/watched her anime in his timeline with Chara and started copying the behavior of the anime love interests and I thought that headcanon was hilarious.

But I gotta admit that idea is pretty fucking adorable and id honestly love to read more about this headcanon of yours, or just read about it in interactions with others (with color or others).

And I think it’d possibly be because, if he’s in a relationship with someone, it may also come with the caveat that he actually wants their approval or for them to think at least well of him. and is so suprised when they actually do or reciprocate that he kinda malfunctions for a minute there.

People because they actually like and want him too, as opposed to praising or showing him affection whenever he does something they want well or approve of—in which case he’s not effected by the praise except for the knowledge that he at least is doing something good and successfully avoided angering that person & the consequences that come with it.

Just the idea that they’re praising or showing him attention because they want to and like him and not because he did something they wanted or because they want something from him. Seems like a pretty foreign concept for him.

and you know what. what if he did something like a happy stim whenever something like that happened, or like did his little hands clasped over his soul thingy he sometimes does in his canon drawings, even if he’s not completely aware of it or why he’s doing it but his friend(s)/partner(s) know and thus know whenever he actually likes something they do or say because hed do this very specific thing subconsciously/instinctively. (this was inspired by an actual irl experience I had with someone lmao)

{ @stellocchia }

[shijjii]

The mind is a battle field

Pairing: GN!Reader x Chilchuck Tims Genre: Fluff, Comfort Word count: 852 Reader appearance/notes: None! Note: Just something that I want to make for myself because I am on overthinking as hell today and I juuuust woke up. Overthinking when just waking up is not the way I wanted to start my day so I'm going to fix it by writing a fic for myself! I hope everyone enjoys it though!

The crackling of the fire echoed through the empty hallways, and one adventurer sat there, fiddling with the hem of their bed roll, as quiet as the halls of the dungeon before them.

Thoughts filled their head but no word came out of their mouth, there was just too many going through their mind and they can't choose between all of them to reflect.

Chilchuck woke up for his turn of the duty, he sees his fellow adventurer sitting there and staring at the fire as if answers would pop out of it if they keep staring for a little more longer.

"Hey" He called out, trying to smooth down his bed hair as he sat up on his bed roll. The fellow adventurer stared up at him with tight lips and hands holding on to each other as if their life depended on it. The crackling of the fire never seemed so loud before that moment but that was the only thing that can be heard after Chilchuck called out.

"Is.... Everything okay?" The adventurer furrowed their eyebrows and gave out a deep sigh. Blinking at the camp fire to at least gather their thoughts "Yeah, I think so. I'd like to think that everything is okay" They answered. Their grip on their own hands not easing up one bit.

A deep sigh, eyebrows furrowing even deeper, grip so tight it's cracking the joints of their bones. Chilchuck noticed every detail, and it was obvious that everything was not okay.

Chilchuck grabbed his neckband, went to grab some water and put the water skin beside the adventurer before heading back to his bed roll to sit and putting on his neckband, getting ready for his duty.

Their eyes snap towards Chilchuck's brown golden orbs, cheek propped on their hand "Everything is obviously not okay. You're about to tear up your hands" The fellow adventurer carefully took the water skin into their hands and drank from it. Giving out another sigh as they finish and close up the water skin.

"I... Feel like I don't bring out that much substance..." They started, making Chilchuck stop fiddling with his neckband

"I feel like I'm so useless and that no one really needs me here. I bet all of you can survive without me. What's the point of my existence here?" The adventurer glared at the floor of the dungeon, lips closed tight together.

"I don't get it. I'm trying to see every interaction, every moment, every battle, that maybe, I was remotely useful at any point" They lower their head, Chilchuck can no longer see their face but the tears that were dripping was seen hitting the floor of the dungeon.

"I- There was no time at all that I was useful. No time that I was able to tremendously help anyone in this party" Their shoulders shook heavily as more tears came down their face, knuckles gone white from how tight they grip their hands together.

To say that Chilchuck was uncomfortable is an understatement. He wasn't used to consoling party members, usually just there to lend an ear but seeing someone full on cry is something new to him. He scratched his head and walked to where the adventurer's bed roll was. Standing there for a minute before deciding fuck it, sitting down beside them and putting an arm over their shoulder. The adventurer choked on their saliva in surprise but recovered quickly.

"You're always of big help. Your heals are always better than Marcille, even she herself goes to you for healing. Senshi likes that you have some experience in cooking and often trusts you with the stuff he makes for dinner. Laios asks you a bunch about spirits and elements, it helps us strategize when we want to kill a monster." He feels the adventurer lean their weight a little bit on him as he was speaking.

"And you?" They ask, sniffling, trying their best not to let their nose drip down but they had already calmed down from crying.

"You've never once thought of me as a child and respected me. You respected my space when I work, rather, I noticed you standing guard behind me whenever I'm trying to work on opening a door or a chest." He can feel the adventurer shuffle from his side to look up at him, as their eyes meet, he sees them smile with the most ridiculous look on their face.

Puffy eyes, red nose, tear-stained cheeks and the brightest smile they can offer.

"So don't think that you're useless or shit. You're not..." He mumbled, standing up and letting the adventurer fall on their bed roll without much thought and heading towards his. Pulling out his bow and arrow before giving the adventurer a glance.

"Go sleep now. I'll take over the watch." Chilchuck hears a little bit of shuffling, he sees them look at him for a bit "Good night, Chil" and head to bed.

That night, it felt warm and fuzzy for the adventurer as they drift off to the dream realm with a smile on their face.

[poetryofyouth]

My thoughts about Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Spoiler free)

After 67.5 hours of playtime, I have finished the fourth Dragon Age game. Overall, I give it a solid 7/10.

I loved

The performance. I have a good gaming laptop, but it is still a laptop. Veilguard runs buttery-smooth, never had any lag or framerate drop or anything. Didn't have any annoying glitches, some very minor graphics bugs two or three times. I know this SHOULD be the bare minimum, but considering it has become the norm to launch games that are basically unplayable because of the number of glitches, this is something to point out!

The overall story, tone and writing. Yes, these were criticised by many people, but I don't think that the dialogue was that clunky, and I certainly did not think that the tone was "not dark enough". Genuinely, people saying the game was too lighthearted and not "dark fantasy" anymore must have played a different game than me.

The look of the environments. Inquisitions landscapes were beautiful, and Veilguard manages to top that in certain areas. Arlathan Forest is absolutely beautiful, and other places you get to explore are horrifyingly, disgustingly vile and haunting and terrifying.

The Character Creator. So many details and so many hairstyles!!! And GOOD, long hairstyles, too!!!

I liked

The Companions. Rook's interactions with the companions is different than in Origins and Inquisition, most similar to DA2. You can't just always come talk to them. But they interact with each other far more than in previous games!! And I am glad there isn't a party banter glitch like in Inquisition - the banter triggers early and often. No hourlong running around in dead silence! And I also liked all the companions as characters, a lot!

The voice acting. Again, I don't really get the complaints so many people seem to have over the voice acting. Really solid imo!

The Combat. I did NOT think I would ever say that. It took a long while to get used to it because I am simply not used to playing action combat games. I only played on Keeper difficulty (2nd easiest), but that was ideal for me to figure everything out. I played a duelist rogue, haven't tried other classes. And I appreciated the uncomplicated respeccing. Especially because I was really intimidated by the complicated look of the skill tree. For rook and the companions, you can respec any skill at any time, so you can play around and try what works best for you.

Exploring. The game is not open-world and I think it was a good choice. But the relatively small areas are packed full with treasures to find. There are little puzzles everywhere. I am a sucker for that kind of stuff. Love puzzles and riddles. Only not putting this under "loved" because it kind of messed with the pacing for me in certain quests. ("Someone's in mortal peril? Sure, hang on, lemme get that treasure chest first")

Certain lore revelations. No spoilers! But we learn some big stuff. I think this was done well for the most part.

I was fine with

The look of the Characters. I was VERY worried about that at first because in general I am not a big fan of the cartoonish artstyle. What was odd is that not all characters seem equally cartoonish? Emmrich seems much more cartoonish than Davril, for example. That is an inconsistency that I found quite annoying. In general, could have been better, could have been worse. I really miss the DA2 look of the Qunari. That Arishok... still thinking about him.

The romance. So I have only romanced Neve, and it was nice. I know other romances are different, they might give you a bit... more. Again, don't want to spoil anything but.... There could have been more.

Cameos/tie-in of established characters. I want to keep this spoiled-free so I won't go into specifics. It was nice meeting some of them again, some of them were.... NOT done right. Yeah I'll reblog this post with a few spoilery thoughts on that. This could have been done a LOT better.

I did not like

Lore inconsitencies. I don't mean major, story-relevant stuff here, just some minor details. It's expected that they will get some stuff wrong but.... ugh. still annoying!!!

The villains are very black-and-white. When I think of Dragon Age Villains, I think of complex characters like Zathrian, Loghain, even the Arishok or Prince Bhelen. Characters you can empathize with, feel sorry for, even side with. The game is very lacking in that kind of complexity.

Lack of impactful, difficult choices. In previous installments, I AGONIZED over so many choices. Harrowmont or Bhelen? Celine or Gaspard? Kill or spare the Architect? Choices I took a long time to think about, choices where the game (and other media) gives you little snippets of information, not enough that you know what the right choice is for sure, but you have a lot to think about and to consider. This does not exist in this game. At all.

Rook can't be evil. I know Rook needs to be the hero. But so did the Warden, Hawke and the Herald. I personally don't like playing the "bad guy". But I like having the choice! If you have the choice to sacrifice Feynriel to the Sloth Demon, it makes the decision to do the right think just so much more meaningful.

And Rook's dialogue options are quite flat, too. The game uses tone indicators like in DA2 and Inquisition, but the tone barely even differs. The joking/sarcastic replies are not that funny (purple Hawke i miss you you will always be famous). The "aggressive" replies are really not that aggressive. Overall, that makes Rook feel quite flat.

I am VERY unhappy with

Okay. Deep breaths. No spoilers. But this game has... issues. For a game that has been in developement for such a long time, there are many aspects that are just unfinished. The Lords of Fortune for example. The entire faction makes barely any sense.

Ignoring most of the worldstate choices... This has been discussed at length before the release, so no need to get into it. But I have always admired Bioware for how they managed to tie in choices from previous games - even if they were just "throwaway oneliners". That was what made the world of Thedas feel real. That's what made Dragon Age special.

The lack of conflict and how slavery in Tevinter is just glossed over. Okay hear me out. I do NOT want more fantasy racism because I think it is cool or whatever. But we're in Tevinter for big parts of the game!! The dreaded empire that everyone in southern Thedas is scared of, where slavery is normal and they do blood magic for fun. All that worldbuilding and the setup is just... basically ignored. The venatori are throwaway enemies just like in inquisition, the politics of Tevinter are almost entirely ignored. And that is, I think, where Veilguard fails to be a proper Dragon Age game. DA was always about mirroring real life conflicts, adressing themes of prejudice, war, racism, homophobia and mental illness directly or through metaphors. Making you think about morality, both your PC's morality and your own as a player and a person. This game... this game doesn't challenge any sort of believes you might have as a person in that way. This is, in my opinion, the biggest failure of the game. The critical look at the real world, through the lense of a dark fantasy game. And if a Dragon Age game is missing that, then it just... misses it's heart and it's soul. Unfortunately, glitches can be fixed but there is no way to patch this.

Final thoughts

Okay, back to a bit more positivity. I enjoyed the game. I really, really had a lot of fun. I screamed, I cried real tears, I felt for the companions and I laughed at the funny moments. Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a good game. Not perfect. And it is perfectly understandable to be critcal of it, unfortunately a lot of criticism gets lost in either "it's too woke" or people who clearly have not played past the first act.

But in general, I think both Dragon Age fans and newcomers will enjoy it and have a good time.

[fyodoro]

Ok so- hi I really like your writing!

Really sorry if this is too specific but can I request Rui with an s/o who rarely genuinely smiles or feels happy because they often feel kind of empty and are socially anxious.. but since wxs likes to make people smile, they kind of take this as a challenge; but in the end it’s Rui that makes them smile without even trying, because they love him💕

->𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬

What started as a convenient friendship turned into the first real smile you’ve expressed in years.

With Rui Kamishiro | Genre - angst? Comfort is here though dw…

Cw) reader is kinda like mafuyu but not rlly, just very empty yknow?, implied suicidal thoughts if you squint, annoying middle schoolers, mentioned neglect, reader stutters but not a lot they’re just anxious, swearing

For as long as you could remember, there was a constant feeling of… dread. Most of the time, it was all you could feel. Every corner you turned paranoia washed over you, every second that past felt like you were doomed. It didn’t help that this feeling increased drastically during social events. The dread eventually wore off sometimes, but it was never replaced. You just felt… incomplete.

Your family thought you were an outcast to them, you never smiled with them. Even when they sang happy birthday to you as a child, you found it difficult to smile. At first, it freaked everyone out. What kind of kid doesn’t smile on their birthday? The judgement turned to annoyance, and before you knew it, you were left in the dust.

Your parents still tried their best to make you smile, or show any kind of emotion. But their efforts were put to waste. You just… could barley smile. It was a heartbreaking turn of events, but there wasn’t anything left that could be done about it. Since then, you’ve been left to handle your emotional baggage on your own.

In elementary school, things were a bit different. People actually wanted to be your friend and tried talking to you. As smooth as it went, you were still left with a feeling of emptiness. You felt awkward around these friends- like you couldn’t speak up without a fear of being shunned. The awkwardness came off as off putting, driving your friends away. You didn’t mind though. You didn’t mind one bit.

Not at all.

Junior High rolled around. The kids were meaner, boys were becoming more obnoxious, and the girls were eating that obnoxious behavior up. For a moment, it took away that feeling of dread, replacing it with humor and disgust. You let out a dry laugh any time you encountered a couple, finding it to be so annoying it was actually funny.

You’re pretty sure it was the first time you experienced humor. Maybe it was a bit weird, your first laugh being at relationships, but it was definitely a first step.

“I didn’t think you knew how to laugh.” Someone said from behind you. You turned around, being met with a tall frame that definitely didn’t look like it belonged to a year seven.

You only stared at him, not saying a word. He had unkempt purple hair with some blue streaks, it looked pulled back, but you couldn’t tell if it was a ponytail or a knot. His eyes were a dull yellow, small dark circles under his eyes bringing them out a bit.

‘How eccentric.’ You thought.

You walked away, not wanting to interact with the individual… Especially someone who looked like they were ready to question you. Little did you know, that would only be your first encounter with the tall male.

You had to admit it was strange. Ever since that encounter with the unkempt male, you’ve noticed him roaming around more and more. You frequently saw him in the stairwell, where you would go down, he would go all the way up to the rooftop. Other days you spotted him on the rooftop’s fence from below. You brushed it off however, you’re probably only noticing him now because you met him. Of course he’ll stand out.

Of course.

That was the next phase of junior high. Your final year before high school, and it was full of failed attempts at making friends, getting outcasted more as a result, and just pure shitty luck. You thought ‘Of course’ at least once a week by this point, cause what else was there to think? Of course this was the biggest part of your youth. Of course.

That mindset was what lead you all over the school in search for a lunch spot. You couldn’t bear to sit in the cafeteria with all those other students… just thinking about it made you uncomfortable. The outdoor seats were always occupied with couples or friends having private conversations, it was best not to intrude either of those.

You found a spot at the library for a brief period, but you felt out of place after a while, surrounded by others your age who were just there to study. Once again, it was better not to be a hazard…

There was one place left in the entire school, the rooftop. You were reluctant to go, hearing rumors of a couple of weirdos sitting up there all day. Whoever those “weirdos” were had quite the reputation, as going up to the rooftop around lunch became a punishment for friends who lost a bet. Just who knows what you’ll get yourself into if you stay there… but it was worth a shot, right?

Taking a deep breath, you twisted the door handle to the very top of the school. You didn’t see anyone initially, ‘Maybe it was just a school myth’ you thought. But a quick turn of the head proved that wrong, cause right away you spotted a familiar silhouette of purple hair, along with a unfamiliar pink haired individual.

He still stood out like a sore thumb, just like before. ‘Isn’t this the guy who didn’t think I could laugh?’ You thought to yourself. He whispered something to the pink haired fellow next to him, before turning his head back to you. You felt awkward, judged even. You weren’t sure what to say exactly, not expecting to come face to face with these two.

“Hey there, did you come to get another laugh?” He spoke up. You couldn’t tell if that was an insult or not, or maybe he was trying to emphasize you weren’t welcomed, or maybe you looked like you were judging? This was nerve-wrecking…

“Um… not exactly. I- well um, there’s not a lot of places to sit for someone like me. I didn’t think anyone came up here.” That was a lie, the other two across from you knew that as well. Everyone knows the rooftop was for rejects like them.

You were shaking. A lot. You averted your gaze to anything but the pair in front of you, trying to avoid judgmental stares or mocking laughs.but they never came.

“You know you can come over here, right? Isn’t it uncomfortable standing in the middle like that? Rui, make some room for them.” The pink one said. They had a androgynous look to them, but were wearing regular pants and a red cardigan. They sounded a bit harsh, but it didn’t seem intentional.

You walked over to the spot made for you, taking a seat and stretching your legs out. Now the silence was really awkward, just great…. Now what?

“I believe we met before, yes?” The taller said. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, but you did meet before. It felt weird to look back on considering you ran away from him, and now you’re sitting right next to him.

You stayed silent, but that didn’t keep him from continuing.

“We never got each other’s names you know. I’m Rui Kamishiro, the one next to me is Mizuki Akiyama. Surely you have a name as well, correct?” This guy was definitely bolder with his words than any other “friendly” person you’ve met before.

“It’s (Name), (Full Name).” Was all you said.

“Well, (Full Name), I hope to see you more often in the future.” He replied. Almost like it was timed perfectly, as the bell rang the moment he finished his sentence.

For the rest of the day, you recalled the encounter over and over again in your mind. Maybe going up there wouldn’t be too bad of an idea, but the school year was close to ending. You’d hate to find a real friend and lose them right after.

So for the rest of the year, you went up there at least once a week. Other days you’d spend free period in a restroom stall, which wasn’t the nicest experience, but it felt somewhat safe.

The routine repeated till graduation. You found Mizuki to be a comforting individual to be around, but the year difference lead to difficulties in seeing each other around outside of the rooftop. With Rui, you felt he was just a friend of convenience. You both were friends with Mizuki, and happened to be in the same year and class. After graduation, you’ll probably never speak to him again.

When graduation rolled around, it felt relieving. After today… you’ll probably never see these people again. You didn’t have any bittersweet feelings toward it, only sweet. These were the people who played a part in making your junior high experience hell, after all. Why should you feel sad about never seeing them again? Mizuki was going to your high school when they graduated, so you weren’t too worried about that either.

You glanced at Rui as you left the gymnasium, he waved. You stopped in your tracks briefly, telling your parents you’ll be right back before walking towards him.

“Rui..”

“Well if it isn’t (Name), are you excited? You know, for high school.”

You wish you could say yes, but you couldn’t. You weren’t ready to go through all this again, with no idea of who anyone is was a whole other subject. You were ready to leave, but you weren’t ready to start fresh.

Your silence said all he needed to know, he patted your shoulder and called his mom over from where she was standing.

“Would you mind taking a picture of me and my friend here?” He asked.

She smiled warmly at you, nodding her ahead and pulling her phone out. Rui wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you did the same, except your arm was around his waist instead.

His mother showed you two the photo, you thanked he. Giving one last look to Rui, you walked back towards your parents, finally getting out of this hellhole.

“Who was that over there, (Name)? Your mother asked.

“Just an acquaintance from this year…”

From that point on, you tried your best to forget about everything that happened in Junior high, along with everyone you met there. You felt it was too painful to dwell on the past, there was nothing that could change it, so why bother wishing it went differently?

Besides, in a way, you worried it would hold you back in high school. If you keep thinking like junior high… you’ll be frozen in time. That’s not a very pretty outcome, is it?

Your first year in high school brought you back to your childhood a bit. Without elementary acquaintances, you didn’t know a single person in Kamiyama. You felt dread all around, nothing else. Every time a teacher called on random kids, you had to fight back nausea from the anxiety of getting picked. It was terrible to say the least.

You felt nothing but everything at the same time. By now, you couldn’t remember the last time you smiled. Was it eight years ago? Nine? Maybe a decade… it was almost like a curse. Why couldn’t you experience a normal life? Why did things have to go this way? Why?

God. Was it too much to wish to disappear? If you disappeared… things wouldn’t be so hard. You wouldn’t be able to worry anymore, right? If you went to bed every night thinking that, maybe your prayers will be answered. At least, that’s what you hoped.

Time didn’t feel real anymore, so much so that your second year at Kamiyama appeared in front of you out of no where. You can’t recall anything from the past year other than rotting away after school ever single day. It was hard to believe you were already a second year, let alone still alive.

You expected this year to go the exact same as the previous, you really did. In a way, you almost wanted it to. It was what you were accustomed to after all. Such a sudden change could go many ways… but the way this change went was all that you wanted. Even if you didn’t realize that in the moment.

First thing you noticed walking through the school gates? A familiar pink haired figure. The only thing familiar was their presence, they looked completely different from the last time you saw them. Mizuki almost ran towards you, coming at you with a bear hug.

“(Name)! It’s been so long, how are you?!” They asked, still hugging you. You loosely hugged back, patting their back.

“Mizuki… I’ve been… uh, alright? What about you..?” You asked in return.

“Ah, I’ve been a lot better actually! Oh, I’ll see you later! My friend’s little brother is right over there. I need to say hi!” And with that they ran off again. Mizuki was definitely more energetic than the last time you saw them.

You were proud of them. They’ve seemed to have grown a lot since junior high, even making new friends along the way. You were glad your first feeling of the school year was proudness rather than dread, you’d have to thank Mizuki later, huh?

Walking along the pathway, you were once again greeted with a familiar figure. Except this time… you definitely weren’t expecting this one.

“(Name)?” A sly voice said.

“…Rui?”

You didn’t know what to think. You thought graduation would be the last time you ever saw him. After all, he was going to an elite high school. He was destined to do something great, so what the hell was he doing here?

“Hmm, looks like fate brought us together once again. What have you been up to these days?” He asked. You didn’t have the guts to tell him “nothing.” That just felt… embarrassing. He’s probably been busy, occupied with his own hobbies. He shouldn’t have to hear the sob story of the past year…

“Well… um, I forget. What brings you here though…? I thought you were going to that elite high school for science. Uh… did something happen?” Of course, switching the conversation onto him was a better idea for now.

“Ah, not exactly. I just had a little accident on school grounds, accidentally blew up school property as a result. So they had to expel me, something about ‘damaging the school’s prestigious reputation.’” He chuckled to himself at that last part, finding his expulsion humorous? You didn’t understand this guy still.

You two stood in silence for a moment. You weren’t sure what to say, you never were. Rui knew this, so thankfully it made the silence less awkward. This meeting was extremely awkward on your behalf, never did you think of seeing him again.

And that was your next feeling, guilt. Guilt for never staying in contact, guilt for trying to forget about him. Most importantly, guilt for never wanting to see him again. You never knew why you thought that. He was a friend for a bit, friends don’t usually wish to never see each other again, don’t they?

“Say, what if I introduced you to a few people here? Only two. One of which I think you’d get along with excellently. The other one… I’m not so sure. But! They aren’t judgmental.” You didn’t know who to expect, but you agreed nonetheless. You were hoping this one that you’d supposedly get along with was actual similar to you.

“These two are apart of my theater troupe I joined a month ago. There’s another one, but she goes to the girl’s academy. She did say something about visiting Kamiyama ever so often though.” A theater troupe? You knew Rui was into weird stuff, so what did he have to do with theater? You can’t recall him ever expressing a passion for it…

“Still silent, huh?” He asked, noticing you’re lack of responses. The nod of your head didn’t help much, you still didn’t wanna be too verbal right now.

“I haven’t forgotten, you know. About that time you laughed. I think that was the only time I ever witnessed you expressing a joyous feeling, but something tells me that laugh was more bitter than joyous. Not to mention… you haven’t smiled before either.” The more he said the more you wished to run away. You wanted to find good friends, not get called out like this.

“I’m just hard to entertain is all.” You responded with, meekly. Entertain didn’t equate to happy, you knew this, so did Rui. But both of you decided to ignore that fact for now.

“Thankfully my troupe’s job is to entertain people, the girl at the girl’s academy is all about making people smile. I’m sure if you stopped by one of our shows at Phoenix Wonderland… (Name)?” You stopped dead in your tracks. Was he really trying to make to smile? Make you happy? Did he really think it was going to be that easy?

“You know it’s been so long since I last smiled, I can’t even remember the last time I did. What you want to do is impossible, Rui.” You said solemnly. You didn’t want him to get his hopes up, so you just had to give it to him straight.

“Well lucky for me, I enjoy challenging the impossible.” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. You almost wanted to punch him. Almost.

You continued walking, finally seeing the two he wanted to introduce you to. Tsukasa Tenma and Nene Kisangani.

You heard of Tsukasa from last year, you thought he was rather obnoxious and tried to steer clear of him. Nene must be a first year, there was nothing familiar about her, not even her name. Throughout the whole interaction she hid behind Tsukasa, ‘so that’s what he meant by us getting along… she’s nervous as well.’ You thought.

You weren’t sure if you should’ve took it as a compliment anymore, was he equating you to a shy mess who needed to hide behind someone at all times? But… she seemed nice. You couldn’t judge her, you’d probably do the same thing if you had a good friend like that. If you had a good friend like that.

Dread snuck up on you before you could even realize. You averted eye contact even more, and felt as your legs began to shake. ‘Isn’t this just great’

“(Name)! Are you well?” Tsukasa’s voice boomed, he was far too loud asking that question.

Rui looked over to your figure next to him. He noticed almost right away how uncomfortable you looked, Nene did as well. Though, she thought it was best not to point it out in a group setting.

“Ah, excuse them. They’re pretty anxious with unfamiliar people. I’m sure they’ll warm up to you two eventually. After all, we are performing our next show for them.” Rui said as if he already talked it out with the group. Which, he indeed, did not. You weren’t even mentioned prior to this meeting.

Tsukasa and Nene gave each other a confused look. “We are?” They said in unison.

“We are!” Rui stated again.

Meanwhile, you had the most confused look on your face. What does he mean by ‘performing their next show for you’? You couldn’t say you appreciated the effort, but at the same time, you kinda didn’t. This felt… way too sudden.

The bell rang before anyone could protest. You learnt Tsukasa was in a separate class than Rui though, and knew for sure Nene was in fact a first year. With that, those two went their own ways to class, leaving you and Rui alone.

“Are you not going to class? It’s the first day back you know.” He almost sounded like a mother, almost. Rui didn’t have the responsibility to act like a mother.

“I’m waiting for you… we’re in the same class, right?”

“Indeed we are.”

You walked ahead of him, not wanting to be directly next to him. It also provided some sense of security that he was right behind you, no one could sneak up on you like that. But that didn’t last long… before you knew it, you and Rui were walking side by side.

“Are you excited for our show?” He asked. You shot him with a glare, not appreciating how sudden that was.

“Not really.” You responded.

“Yes you are, don’t lie.” Great. Now he was doing that teasing voice of his again.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No!”

You two bickered back and forth, interrupted by something you found unbelievable.

You felt your lips curve up, but you weren’t sure why. Of course, Rui just had to notice.

“Was that…” he began.

“It wasn’t anything!” You exclaimed, face flushed with embarrassment. Did it seriously have to happen like that?

“It looked like something.” He stated matter of factly. Pointing towards your lips, he mimicked the smile you just had.

“You just went like this!” He pressed his thumbs to the corner of your lips, pushing it upwards a bit to replicate what he had just witnessed.

You stayed silent, avoiding eye contact at any cost. At this rate… you were going to be late anyways.

“I can’t believe it! I’ve heard you laugh before, but it was so dry. And I’ve never seen you smile, not even in that photo we took at graduation!” You tried to ignore him, you really did.

On one hand, you felt a sense of relief you were able to smile, and that you weren’t as broken as you thought. But on the other hand… you just smiled because of Rui. That didn’t feel right at all.

“Come on now, say something. You and me both know you’re just a littleee happy, right?” He said. You tried thinking about it, but could you really conclude you were happy? Maybe satisfied was the better word… but maybe happiness wasn’t too much of a stretch.

“Maybe… I’m not sure? I didn’t think I could do that anymore.” You replied, feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.

“And just to think… I was about to put on a whole show just to get a smile out of you. But that isn’t necessary anymore, right? If I’m able to get a smile out of you just like that…” He leaned closer to your face. Not too close, but close enough to pull even more embarrassment out of you.

“Don’t… don’t say it like that. You know it was just a coincidence-“

“How do you smile by coincidence?”

You couldn’t argue with that, even you knew it doesn’t work like that. A part of you wanted to say more, but the other part of you pushed it back. It wasn’t the right time for any of that, not yet at least.

“What do you say we recreate that graduation photo? But this time you smile! How does that sound?”

“Unnecessary, that’s how it sounds.”

He merely chuckled at your bluntness. The conversation felt like forever in your mind, but it was apparently shorter. The bell hasn’t rung again To signal class starting, and you’ve just arrived in the classroom. Was this a better concept of time than before?

Your memory was blurry, so you couldn’t recall many events form the past year. But you can recall the way you felt, lonely. You didn’t have a reason to get up in the morning, you didn’t have anyone or anything to look forward to during the day. It was hard to think about, you’ve never been that lonely before.

But with Rui back, even Mizuki, you felt like you were finally reaching that light at the end of the tunnel. Rui’s troupe members… they were fond of you. Maybe this was the year you could finally be a part of a friend group again. Maybe this year you’ll be able to find…

“(Name), look at the seating chart, I’m right behind you. Sorry if you feel me poking your back at all.” Rui said smugly, with a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Yeah… maybe this year you will be able to find all that.

[inadaydream99]

Even When You Were Invisible

Based on the movie The Princess Diaries (2001)

NCT Dream Jisung x fem reader, fluff

A/N - so I recently rewatched The Princess Diaries and just had to write this into a oneshot. This focuses more onto the budding romance side-plot of the film, so I’ve taken some liberties and adapted the narrative a bit. This is also unedited for now - please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes!

Disclaimer: I have used a direct quote from the film which is in italics. I am not trying to replicate the film, just use the plot as inspiration. I do not take any credit for this plot. This does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Jaemin’s character does not reflect him and is purely to fulfil the shallow character he plays. Mild use of language (like 5 swears, maybe??)

“How’s my baby?” You gleam at Jisung, catching him off guard from where he’d been so focused on tinkering around with the car engine in front of him. He bolts upright beside you, quickly grabbing hold of the car bonnet and slamming it down before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rag he uses to wipe off the engine oil from his hands.

“All good.” His voice comes out strained, watching as your smile somehow grows wider. He observes the way your hand smooths over the shiny baby blue metal of the car, gazing into the way it reflects your loving expression.

“Well, she looks amazing.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, watching the way his Adam’s apple bops. “Thank you, Sungie.”

“Oh, it was really no problem…” he gushes, playing down all the turmoil your precious car has given him over the last few weeks. Not that Jisung ever plans on telling you about all the extra hours he’s spent fixing up your car for you. He doesn’t mind at all. He spends most of his free time at the garage anyway because his band is also allowed to practice there in return for Jisung helping out repair some cars.

It’d be a dead giveaway to all of the feelings he has towards you and he also knows you’d insist on paying him extra for his time if you knew when you’ve already put every penny of your savings into repairing the car you’d worked so hard to get.

Besides, with the way you look at him now, radiating so much adoration, Jisung feels it’s more than enough compensation for his hard work.

“You’re the best!” You reach out to ruffle his hair the second he ducks his head shyly from your compliment. Whispered giggles tumbling from his lips as his cheeks burn. “Can I pick her up tomorrow after school?” You shine those big doe-like eyes at him.

“No problem.” Jisung nods, smiling warmly. And he watches you skip out of the garage with so much excitement, shouting a “see you at school!” over your shoulder. Just as you have left his line of sight, Jisung is called over by his band mates for practice. And while they spend the rest of the evening playing their songs, Jisung continues to replay your interaction over in his mind. Damn, he’s down bad for you.

You reach home quicker than usual, thanks to the spring in your step from Jisung’s amazing work with your baby. You’re so unbelievably excited to finally be able to drive your dream car. You’ve wanted a baby blue mustang since you can remember, so you’d scraped all of your savings from your part time job together to buy the old beaten up car and payed the garage where Jisung works to make your car dreams come true.

“That you honey?” You hear your mom call as you walk further into your house. She sends you a smile over her shoulder when your bag clatters onto the kitchen table. Picking up an apple from the fruit bowl as you watch her refocus on the painting before her.

“Did you get another commission?” You speak through half-chewed apple.

“Uh-huh.” You mom hums, placing down her brush carefully onto the tray beside her easel before turning to you. “Who knew posting my art online would rake in so much work?”

“I did.” You tease, taking another bite of your apple.

Your mom shakes her head at you while rinsing her hands in the sink. All the while, you push yourself away from the counter, grabbing your bag to begin heading to your room.

“(Y/N), wait!” Your mom calls just as you reach the stairs. “Your grandmother called today. The live one.” Your mom adds upon seeing your shock.

“The one I’ve never met?” You tilt your head in confusion, bushy eyebrows furrowing. “What would she suddenly want?”

“She said she wants to have tea with you after school tomorrow.” Your mom explains. “Something about important news she needs to share with you.”

“Oh, I was supposed to pick up my car tomorrow… but I guess I’ll have to rain check.”

That was two weeks ago now and little did you know at the time how much your life was about to change.

The following afternoon, when you’d arrived at your estranged grandmothers house - or should you say mansion - you’d had your world flipped upside down.

“A-a Princess-” your mouth hangs agape, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. Your eyes dart around the room, looking from your grandmother to her staff, then the security, before finally landing back on your grandmothers perfectly calm expression. She’s not joking. “No no no nonononono." You shake your head.

“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m the furthest thing from a princess. Look at me!”

-

As it turns out, they did not have the wrong person. Your father, who you’d never met, had been heir to the throne of the small European country you’d never heard of and after his death, that left you - his only child - next in line.

You’d come to an agreement with your grandmother that, before anyone made any rash decisions, you’d give it some time to try out the role of Princess. And so commenced the ‘Princess training’ every day after school with your grandmother. You’d learn how to walk, talk, sit, stand and live like a true Princess within the agreed trial month between this life altering news and the annual independence ball.

Sworn to secrecy, you’d not told a soul about your new informed identity. So, while your private life has somehow changed in every single way, your school life has not budged an inch. From the hours of 8-3 you’re the same invisible girl, with your two bestest friends since kindergarten, Jisung and Chenle.

“Woah, he’s so dreamy.” You gush, resting your chin in your palm as you watch Jaemin walk past your lunch table. Jisung simply rolls his eyes at the way you simp over the most popular guy in school, like always. He doesn’t get the hype around Jaemin. So what if he’s the captain of the football team, extremely lean and always seems to have perfectly shiny hair? Anyone could have all of those things. Jisung could have all of those things…

Despite the fact that he’s almost flunking gym class because of his terrible hand-eye co-ordination in football.

Jisung feels his only consolation is that Jaemin is dating Nina, the head cheerleader.

“Anyway…” Chenle speaks a little louder, “as I was saying before (Y/N) let her hormones take away from the crisis at hand. How am I going to get another guest for my show on Saturday?”

Ah yeah, you were trying to console Chenle on his last minute drama. His school curricula radio show, Talking with Chenle, had finally been getting more than three listeners a week. And ever since his audience has started to slowly grow, he’s been putting more and more pressure on himself to promote the topics he cares about with guests.

“Dude, chill. You still have four days to find a replacement.” Jisung grumbles from beside you. He looks a little like he’s sulking, although you have no idea what could have possibly made him so annoyed within the last thirty minutes that you’ve been sat at your lunch table.

“So much help you are.” Chenle fires at the grumpy Jisung on your left as he stands from the table, slings his bag over his shoulder and storms off.

You turn your attention to said grump, frowning.

“That wasn’t nice Sungs.” You watch as regret consumes his face, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he mumbles a muted apology.

“So, are you collecting your car from the garage tonight?” Jisung finally builds up enough courage to ask you. He’s been battling in his mind for the last few days on how to bring this up, so he’s a little nervous, but tries his best to suppress the shyness that wants to win over.

“Oh I can’t.” You guiltily grimace. You feel terrible putting him off again, especially when you were meant to pick up your baby weeks ago. But, since you’ve been having your ‘Princess lessons’ everyday, you’ve had no time. “I’m seeing my Grandmother.”

“Again?” Jisung regrets how quickly the word slips out of his mouth. But you don’t seem offended, nodding yes in response.

“How about Saturday?” You quizzically raise a brow, biting down onto the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Saturday works…” You let out a breath in relief upon Jisung’s agreement. “…and maybe you can stay for a bit, hang out?” Jisung suggests.

“…it’s just my band are practicing that afternoon in front of a few people and it’d be great to have a bit more of an audience…” Jisung trails off, cutting off his word vomit just in time to notice the way your smile reaches your eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” You beam, just as the bell rings for class.

-

You were beyond nervous. Petrified, if you’re completely honest. Yesterday evenings ‘Princess lesions’ with your grandmother had turned out to be a head-to-toe makeover and you’d come out the other end of the evening looking like someone entirely different. Some may even say, like a Princess. Gone were your glasses, bushy eyebrows, your hair had been cut and the frizz tamed. To you, you look almost unrecognisable. To Chenle, you look amazing. But to Jisung, you look like the very thing you’d always swore you’d never want to be - a popular - and it scared him.

While you liked your new look, you felt like a bit of a sellout for complying with the makeover to look more ‘regal’ - as your grandmother had described it. So you’d walked into your first class of the day wearing a grey bucket hat, so as to cover as much of your new look as possible.

Jisung had to do a double take when you entered the classroom and took your usual seat beside him. He’d always thought you were beautiful before, but wow, you’d somehow managed to ascend to another level quite literally overnight. From under the hat, he could see your bright eyes and long lashes. The neat shaping of your eyebrows and the plumpness of your lips, accentuated by the baby pink lip gloss you’d applied. Although, he’s unsure of why you’re wearing a hat on such a warm summers day, especially when you’re inside.

“Okay class, simmer down.” Your teacher, Mr Sums enters from the back of the room, hushing all of the excited chatter in the room as he places down his bag on the front desk and begins to set up for the class. “Yes, Nina?” He acknowledges without so much as glancing in her direction.

Nina sat in the seat behind you, perfectly poised and ready to strike. She’s the head girl in your grade for a reason, with her off-scale intelligence, popularity and cunning attitude. She will take down anyone who gets in her way. Which, right now, is your hat covered head that’s in her line of vision to the front of the class.

“Mr Sums. Isn’t there a rule about no hats allowed?” You can feel her smirk on the back of your neck, letting out a concealed huff as you try to prepare yourself for what you know is going to happen next.

“You’re right Nina.” Mr Sums sighs, “(Y/N), please could you remove your improper dress coded attire?” He glances at you and your mortified expression, watching as you gulp down your nerves while simultaneously reaching up to reluctantly slip your hat off.

Out tumbles your perfectly smooth hair as it cascades down past your shoulders. Jisung’s eyes almost pop out of his head from beside you. Not that you notice, too busy being consumed by the gasps from your classmates.

“Oh wow.” You hear Nina laugh, “Look who’s trying to fit in now?”

Her sickly-sweet tone only makes your cheeks burn deeper and you try to sink into your chair.

“Well, I think (Y/N) looks stunning, actually.” Your head whips towards Jisung, grateful for him sticking up for you. You send him a thankful smile as class begins and everyone’s attention is turned away from you. For now.

-

“So what’s the deal with your sudden change of appearance?” Chenle questions as he shovels his salad into his mouth. His words come out slightly muffled between the half-chewed lettuce and Jisung just rolls his eyes.

“Nothing.” You try to shut down the topic, bowing your head into your own lunch.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Chenle deadpans, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re hiding something.”

“Am not.” You grumble into your sandwich.

“So you’ll be coming to my baseball game after school then, like we agreed weeks ago?”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about Chenle’s baseball game and you know for certain you can’t get out of seeing your grandmother.

“I can’t.”

“See!” Chenle drops his fork into his salad, folding his arms as he turns to Jisung for support. “What? Are you just bored with us now? Don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“No, that’s not even close!” You cry in distress.

“Then tell us what’s so important that you keep dropping us (Y/N).”

You bite down on your jittering bottom lip, your worried eyes casting from Chenle’s unimpressed expression to Jisung’s concerned one.

“I’m not allowed to tell…”

Upon this half-confession, Chenle drops his attitude and leans across the table to speak quieter.

“Are you in trouble? Being blackmailed again? Do we need to beat someone up?”

“No!” You shut down his conspiracies, hands flying up in surrender.

You know you shouldn’t tell anyone. But you also know that if you don’t spill it all to them now, you’ll risk loosing the only people keeping you sane. Heaving a deep sigh, you know what you have to do.

“Okay. You have to promise me you’ll keep this strictly between us.” You point between your two intrigued friends, encouraging them to lean into the table so you can whisper. “I’m serious. The repercussions if this gets out-”

“Just tell us.” Chenle rolls his eyes.

To other students, it simply looks like your gossiping like any other group of high schoolers. But if they were to look closely enough, they’d notice the way both Chenle and Jisung’s eyes blow wide and how the colour seems to drain from Jisung’s face faster than lightening.

“You’re a what-” you cover Chenle’s mouth before he has a chance to shout anything further, covering it with a “Shhhhh.”

“Promise this stays between us.” You stick your pinky finger out for them to link, watching as both of your friends entangle theirs around yours.

“Damn. Wish I could be a…” Chenle begins to mutter.

“Dude!”

-

Walking into school the next morning feels a little more unnerving than usual. You’re barely through the threshold of the gates when someone spots you and shouts “that’s her!”.

Everything’s a blur from that moment. With a frenzy of people shouting “Princess!”, a crowd of students swarm you in seconds, phones and cameras are flying in front of your face as they all take pictures and videos. You feel nauseous from being elbowed and shoved in the midst of the unfolding chaos. However, just when you think your about to spew your guts from the motion sickness, you feel a pair of hands find your waist and clutch onto you, wrapping you into the taller frame of your saviour and using their body as a shield until you’re safely out of the crowd.

“Follow me.” Your saviour moves you away from their hold, clutching onto your hand and forcing you to run as you’re dragged along behind them to a place of refuge. You’re pulled into the main building and twisted through the narrow corridors until there’s no one on your tail.

It’s not until you’re hidden inside a janitors closet that you’re able to look at the person before you and realise it’s Jisung.

“How do they know!” You rush back into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burying your face. Jisung is winded a little from the impact, tumbling a few steps back with you before he regains his balance.

“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” He whispers into the top of your head, fluttering his eyes shut as he inhales the floral scent of your freshly washed hair.

Of course, Jisung has no idea how your secret had gotten out, or what to do next. All he knows right now is how perfectly you fit in his arms and how much he wants to protect you.

“I want you to know, it wasn’t me.” You pull away from Jisung, peering into his worried eyes. You’d never once doubted it would have come from him and there’s nothing more in the world you want right now than to let him know that. Cupping his cheek, you brush your thumb over his soft skin.

“I’d never even consider that being a possibility.” You soothe.

Jisung drinks in every drop of affection you give him as though he’d been traversing the desert for days on end without water. Knowing you never could have accused him rehydrates him and makes his heart feel like it could burst.

“It wasn’t Chenle either. I was with him all evening after his baseball game.”

“I don’t doubt him either.” You reassure. “This feels bigger than just some school gossip.”

-

After cooling down in the janitors closet for a while, you’d managed to sneak out and into your first few classes of the day without too many people bombarding you. Your principle had made an announcement to not cause another commotion and all staff were on patrol during lesson changeovers and breaks.

“Wait, (Y/N)!” You turn to find Chenle forcing his way to the front of the cohort of students following you, instantly linking his arm with yours as you continue to uncomfortably make your way to class surrounded by your new admirers. “You’re an overnight sensation!” He beams, loving the attention on you both.

“Tell me about it…” you mumble, juxtaposing Chenle in every way. Unlike your friend, you’re not made for the limelight. You don’t like all the attention on you. Not now, not ever.

This was one of your biggest fears about people finding out you’re a Princess.

“So, you’ll be my special celebrity guest on Talking with Chenle this Saturday, won’t you?”

Your mouth gapes, finally making eye contact with him and ready to outright refuse. Until, you see how hopeful he looks.

Damn it. There’s no way you can turn him down.

“Sure…” you sigh, unable to hide the small smile that forces its way onto your face when he jumps in excitement.

“You’re awesome!”

-

“(Y/N)!”

You’re just closing your locker when you hear your name, your heart picking up pace from the unmistakeable voice of your caller.

Spinning around, you find none other than Jaemin, smiling at you with his signature smile and staring at you with those heart melting eyes.

“How are you holding up? Been a bit of a crazy day…” He leans one arm on the locker beside you, standing so close you can smell his earthy cologne.

“Just a bit.” You giggle sweetly.

It’s amazing how Jaemin can have such an affect on you. One word and your mind has gone to putty and you’ve forgotten how to act like a normal person.

“Well, I just wanted to apologise for Nina this morning…”

“Huh?” You furrow your brows, feeling yourself come back down to earth.

“She was the one who shouted when you entered the gates and made everyone swarm you?” Jaemin’s tone comes out unsure, not realising that you weren’t aware when you let out a light “oh.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I do not condone that at all. In fact, I broke up with her because of it.”

“You did?” You gush, surprise written all over your face.

…and you’re off in space again.

“Yeah, it was totally not cool.” Jaemin nods. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the end of school beach party with me this Saturday?”

Oh my gosh! Na Jaemin just asked you out!

“Yes!” You blurt. “I-uh I mean, yeah” you swallow, “sounds cool.”

“Cool.” His smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

You watch dreamily as Jaemin walks away to join his group of friends at their lunch table. You’re only pulled back into reality when you spot Jisung perched on the edge of the fountain across the courtyard.

“Guess who just asked me to go with him to the beach party this Saturday!” You park yourself next to Jisung on the ledge of the fountain. “Jaemin!” You squeal your answer when Jisung simply raises an inquisitive brow at you.

“But, what about seeing my band practice?” Jisung tries to not sound depleted.

“Well, I was hoping we could reschedule? I just, I’ve been wanting to go out with Jaemin since forever and you’ll have other band practices, right?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Jisung forces a smile, feeling himself deflate the second you’ve squeezed him in a tight hug before skipping off to get some lunch.

His attention flickers over to the table where Jaemin sits. How could Jisung ever compare? He’d always felt you were unattainable to him because of how he was too shy to express his feelings. And that was before your new look and title. But now? He has no shot.

You’re a Princess for goodness sake. You belong with the most popular guy in school. Not a shy keyboard player in a band that sings in the local garage like him…

-

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” Your grandmother rushes to you as you arrive for your ‘Princess lesson’ of the day. She takes you by your shoulders and peers at you intently.

“Now,” she exhales a deep breath. “We’ve got the press under control with the looming promise of the annual independence ball, so long as they keep a little distance for now.”

You nod in understanding.

You were honestly a little nervous about seeing your grandmother this evening. You’d been worrying about her reaction to this all getting out, even though she is calm and has dealt with an unimaginable amount of trials and tribulations during her many years of reign. She is also strong willed and has made it clear to you that - even though you have yet to make the choice to accept your title and duty - the expectation of this trial period would be as though this is your future.

“And we’ve found that the leak was from the stylist we’d hired.”

There’s more relief in knowing your Grandmother knows it hadn’t come from you than there is from the culprit being found out.

“And we’ve got him doing a formal apology to the press this evening.”

-

Saturday rolls around quickly and before you know it, you’re on your way to the beach party for your date with Jaemin. Everyone who’s anyone is there; dancing, sunbathing or cooling off in the ocean as the sun begins to set.

You feel a little awkward as you walk down the beach to join the other party-goers. It seems like it’s well underway already and you’re not typically one to mix with the crowd in attendance.

“Welcome to paradise.” You almost jump out of your skin upon hearing Jaemin’s voice from your side. You had been so engrossed in your awe of the scene in front of you, you didn’t notice he’d walked over. “I got you a drink.”

You accept the plastic cup, your fingers brushing accidentally with his. Chuckling a flustered thanks before taking a sip, you try not to be affected by his amused grin. He thinks you’re so adorable. How had you been kept so hidden before?

“C’mon.” You feel Jaemin’s hand slip into yours, gently tugging you along with him to head further into the crowd…

“Hello, welcome to Talking with Chenle.” Chenle professionally introduces when his fellow producer Mark signals they are live. “On todays show, we have a special interview with the newfound Princess and close friend of mine, (Y/N).” Mark hits the applause button.

“But, before our main guest’s appearance, we have a short segment on the upcoming senior class projects, presented by our very own Mark.”

Mark jumps in with his pre-written script, listing out the upcoming events for the semester. Meanwhile, Chenle checks his phone to see if you’ve tried to contact him about your whereabouts. Nothing. You should have been here 30 minutes ago…

Back at the beach party, you’re having the time of your life dancing with Jaemin. Uncontrollable laughter tumbling from your lips as he takes your hand and spins you around.

“Who knew you were such a good dancer?” You teasingly glance up at Jaemin as he leads you out of the crowd of dancers and to the side for some much needed air, your hand still firmly in his.

“Well, who knew you would make such a great dance partner.” He praises back, succeeding in making you flustered.

You cast a shy glance up at him through your lashes, still unable to believe that this is reality. You really are here with Jaemin, hand in hand in front of everyone. You feel like you should pinch yourself, just to double check your not dreaming all of this.

That is, until reality comes crashing down in a burning rage. What you’d simply brushed off as a plane flying above you, turned out to be a helicopter filled with paparazzi. It lowers, the wind from the propeller cutting off the party and almost knocking everyone off their feet as multiple cameras flash at you, trying their best to get a good snapshot.

You panic, a million questions buzzing around your mind. What should you do? How do you get away? But most of all, how did they know you’d be here?

“Quick, follow me!” Jaemin pulls you, both of you running towards the lifeguard shack at the back of the beach.

Once inside, Jaemin bolts the door shut and silence and darkness settle around you.

“I’m so sorry.” You plant your face into your hands as you fall into the chair behind you. Being chased by paparazzi - all shouting Princess at you - was not a part of your imagined date with Jaemin. And it’s mortifying to know that’s the reality.

“Hey.” You hear him whisper, his larger hands coercing yours away from your face. In the time you’ve been wallowing, Jaemin had made his way over to you and knelt down to your level so the first thing you see are his eyes and the way they catch the moonlight that filters in through the crack in the curtain covered window. “It’s not your fault.”

His sincerity mesmerises you and washes away your humiliation. How does he do it? How does he seem to know the exact right thing to say?

Meanwhile, Chenle’s radio show is crashing and burning live on air. The last forty-five minutes have been filled with Marks terrible jokes and ramblings and it’s all because of you.

“Alright, I’m off.” Chenle sounds defeated, taking off his headphones and making a stand from his chair the second the ‘live’ light goes dim.

Mark doesn’t respond, nodding his understanding as he watches his friend walk away. He knows it’s not his fault. Heck, Mark did everything he could to act on the spot and make the best out of the shit situation. Chenle is grateful for Marks loyalty and perseverance.

But damn, he still wishes you’d showed… they both do.

“Ok, I think they’ve given up.” Jaemin asserts, peaking through the curtain to find a dark and empty seeming beach. The relief that fills you has you following Jaemin out of the lifeguard shack without thought.

“Thank you for sticking by me, it means a lot.” You timidly smile at Jaemin, allowing him to take your hand in his as you begin to walk up the beach.

Before you have time to register, a bright flash snaps in front of you, the momentary blindness giving time for multiple lurking paparazzi to spring out from their hiding places and surround you both.

“Princess! Who’s your date?”

“Is this your boyfriend?”

“Princess, give him a kiss!”

The crowd shout as you panic, looking around to try and find an escape route.

You spot a slither in the sea of bodies and pull on Jaemin’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he complies to the crazy demands of the privacy invading press and scoops your body into his. His lean arms make your desperation to get away worthless and before you know it, he’s cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him.

With one final deer-in-the-headlights look at him, Jaemin crashes his lips to yours.

It takes you a few seconds to register what he’s doing, before you muster up the strength to shove him away and force yourself out of the circle.

You can’t believe he just did that.

-

“It’s really not that bad.” Jisung tries to console you.

You’re flopped over the table, head in your arms as you try to block out every piece of reality. After Saturday’s kiss fiasco, the picture had been posted everywhere. There was no escaping the horrifying image of your first kiss with Jaemin. No less because you’d always dreamt your first kiss with Jaemin would be magical, like something out of a fairytale. And while you may be a Princess, this feels nothing close to those magical Disney princess movies you adored so much growing up.

For starters, where is your fairy godmother? You could really use one of those right about now…

He can’t lie, Jisung’s a little heartbroken seeing the picture of you kissing someone else posted everywhere. He’s upset for you, knowing how much you hate the situation. But, selfishly, he’s more gutted for himself. That should be him in Jaemin’s place. In fact, if he’d been lucky enough to kiss you, the image wouldn’t have existed because he never would have done it in front of the cameras. Knowing that Jaemin used you to get his 15 minutes of fame angers him too. The first time he saw the picture online, his fists had clenched so tightly from the rage that bubbled up in his stomach his nails had left little crescent moons in his palms. And yet, he can’t bring himself to not look at the grainy image.

“Not that bad?” You retort. “Any hope I had of being Princess has gone down the drain.” You begin to sob.

“What’s my grandmother going to say?”

Jisung doesn’t realise how stern his face had been until he finally looks away from the picture to find your eyes peaking out from their hiding spot. His gaze softens in a heartbeat, his hand reaching out to instinctively rub your back.

From your peripheral, you recognise the group passing by and tear your gaze away from Jisung’s to find Jaemin and his friends snickering as they walk past.

“Hey (Y/N), great kiss.” Jaemin puckers his lips mockingly.

You’re not sure what hurts you more, having reality shred the mask to uncover his true, obnoxious personality to you or knowing how many years you spent pining over someone so shallow.

“Ugh.” You bury your face back into the safety of your arms, blocking out all daylight and - you hope - reality.

-

After a lot of pep-talk from Jisung, he finally managed to coax you into going to your next class. But it’s not until final period, when see Chenle enter the classroom, that you realise you hadn’t seen or heard from him since last week. You send him a smile when he makes eye contact, feeling confused when he frowns back before taking a seat on the opposite end of the room.

You find yourself casting glances in his direction throughout the class, hoping to catch him looking over at you at least once. But nothing. Not even a peep is sent your way.

“Chenle,” you chase after him. Barely five seconds after your teacher had dismissed class, Chenle had been out of the door and down the corridor. You’d had to sprint through the throngs of students just to get to him before he got out of the building. “Why’d you not sit with me?”

But your question is met with the biggest eye roll you’ve ever seen as Chenle continues to make his way out of the school grounds.

“Did I do something?” You press.

“Did you do something?” Chenle fires back at you, narrowing his eyes vehemently. “Try what you didn’t do!”

You’re dumbstruck.

“I have no ide-”

“My radio show Saturday?” Chenle sasses. Thank goodness you’re down the street by the time Chenle finally stops walking and begins exploding on you. “I had to listen to Marks lame jokes for an hour.”

“Oh my god! I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Your eyes go wide, mortified at how you’d completely forgotten about being Chenle’s guest. “I’ll make it up to you next time, I swear!”

“There won’t be a next time.” Chenle scoffs, turning away once again. “Oh,” he stops himself to mention one last thing. “and, just so you know, just because you a Princess now, doesn’t mean the only thing that matters is you.”

-

“Hey Sungs.” You mournfully approach where Jisung finishes polishing your car. The garage is oddly quiet, no music or clatter sounding in the usually busy space. No. Instead, it seems like it’s just you and Jisung here. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby.”

“No problem.” Jisung sends you a half-smile as he hands over the keys. “She’s all yours.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” You warmly smile, but feel your mood drop when he doesn’t reciprocate like he usually does. There’s a silence that fills the space between you. You’ve never felt so awkward with Jisung before.

“Well… I better get going…” you try not to sound too deflated, jangling your keys in the air as you go to open your car door.

You watch as Jisung takes a step back from the car, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets as he wordlessly watches you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You timidly look at Jisung, stopping yourself from clutching the car door handle in front of you. “You don’t think I think the only thing that matters is me, right?”

There’s a timidity to your tone that makes Jisung gulp. He knows all about the argument because Chenle had ranted down the phone to him for a hour after school and he can tell Chenle’s words have gotten to you. At the same time, however, he feels a little dumbfounded that you seem to only realise this now, after you’d had someone shout it in your face. It’s even more ironic you only ask Jisung of his thoughts when you are just about to take the finished car home. The very one that you’ve been stringing him along with for weeks. He knows he has to be honest with you.

“There were times when I would say I agree, yes.” Jisung nods. “I mean, you dropped me for Jaemin in a heartbeat and he’d never once given you the time of day before your Princess glow-up.”

“Right. I really should go…” you voice comes out hoarse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jisung feels terrible as you spare no more time getting into your car and starting the engine. It revs to life and roars as you drive away, leaving him alone once again. But the it sinks in how much you’d made him feel used. You’d chosen to walk away from the truth when you’d asked him for it. And Jisung can’t help but feel disappointed.

-

Walking through the halls the next day you feel so insecure. Groups of students stop their conversation to stare at you as you pass, their expressions unreadable, leaving you unable to tell if they are judging you or just fascinated.

Reaching your locker in the courtyard, your eyes light up in hope upon seeing Chenle a few doors down at his locker. You watch him until he notices you, forcing a meek smile his direction when he does. But instead of him smiling back and making his way over to you, he frowns and slams his locker shut before walking the opposite direction.

You self-consciously peer around, hoping no one had witnessed that rejection and your eyes light up when you spot Jisung.

“Jisung!” You call as he walks past. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. Instead, he picks up his pace and your eyes follow him as he catches up with Chenle. You turn back to focus on getting the right books out of your locker, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

How had you managed to mess up so bad that your friends won’t even acknowledge you…

With tears still in your eyes, you enter your next class with your head hanging low. You can’t bear to look up and see your two friends, knowing they won’t speak to you. Instead, you rush to the back of the room and take the seat furthest in the corner.

But when you do eventually look up towards the front of the classroom, you catch Jisung glancing your way. He turns back to face the front a split second after. But there’s as hope that flows through you from catching the longing in his expression.

Maybe there’s still a way to win them back.

-

It’s taken a few days to figure out, but you think you know how to get your friends to forgive you. Starting with Chenle.

First you have to sneak up on him so he doesn’t get away when you try to talk to him, which from his avoidance of you the past week, has proven more challenging than you thought. But you do manage to corner him in class as everyone leaves for lunch.

“Chenle, I want to make it up to you.” You plea. “I just want everything to be right between us again.” While you’ve technically been successful in talking to him, he’s still refusing to look at you. “Tell me what I can do…”

This piques his interest.

“Stop being a Princess.” He flatly states. If only he knew…

That was actually something you’d been working on, deciding days ago that you don’t think you’re cut out for accepting royal duty as a Princess. You’ve already spoken to your grandmother about this and, despite her reluctance and assurance that you would be more than capable for the role, you’d come to a mutual agreement to make no public announce until the evening of the ball.

You wish you could tell Chenle, but you can’t break your promise to your grandmother. You’re done breaking promises you’ve made.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of attending the independence ball this Saturday?” You send him a hopeful beam.

You take his blank expression and lack of a quick response as a good sign and continue to persuade.

“It’s invitation only…”

Chenle sighs. Damn him and his weakness for exclusivity. Plus, he’s always wanted to go to a ball and he doesn’t know when he’ll get this type of opportunity again.

“Fine!” He caves. “You’re forgiven.”

You squeal, jumping into him to squeeze him in a hug. You feel his chest vibrate with laughter and look up to finally see him smiling.

“I missed you.” You gush as you pull away and begin walking down the hallway together.

“I know.” Chenle laughs heartily when you shove him and roll your eyes.

You finally feel like you’re on the right track. If you can get Chenle to forgive you, then you’re pretty certain Jisung will too. Now you just need to find him.

-

“Wassup bro.” Chenle greets Mark as you join his table for lunch. You’re familiar with Mark because he helps Chenle out with his radio show and you’ve always found him really bubbly and sweet on the few occasions you’ve spoken.

“Sup guys.” Mark greets you both warmly. “I see you’re back on speaking terms.”

“Yep.” Chenle responds through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about all of that.” You grimace towards Mark. “But I heard you’re on your way to becoming a comedic genius.”

“I think I’m good with sticking to the pre-scripted topics.” Mark laughs loudly.

“Oh, hey Jisung!” Chenle’s sudden shout almost makes you jump out of your skin.

You turn your attention to where Chenle looks to find Jisung casting an embarrassed side glance over to your table while trying to continue his conversation with one of his band mates Renjun.

You don’t really know Renjun, other than what you’ve observed. Even though he’s part of Jaemin’s popular group, he seems like a nice guy and there’s always been a part of you that’s been curious to know how he ended up with friends like Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck. All so loud and attention loving in comparison.

You watch as he bids Renjun goodbye and approaches, stuffing his hands into his pockets once he’s reached your table. It’s clear he doesn’t want to hang around…

“Aren’t you gonna join us for lunch?” Chenle snickers at his friend, his tone mocking at the way Jisung acts so hesitant.

“Actually, I-uh have,” Jisung gulps. “I have last minute band practice.”

“But you just said goodbye to Renjun?” Mark furrows his brows.

“Gotta go!” Jisung takes off as quickly as he can. He doesn’t look back when he hears you call after him, instead only ducking his head lower and picking up more speed. You have to run to catch him. Damn him and his long legs. You hate running.

“Jisung.” You pant, catching him by the arm and using all of your body weight to slow him down. He lets out a defeated sigh as he stops, knowing there’s no escaping having to talk to you now. “Please talk to me…” you beg, pleading with the best, saddest puppy eyes you can muster.

“What is there to say?” His voice comes of quieter than he wanted it to. He’s so hurt and upset with you and he wants to be able to express that. He usually can when it’s towards other people. But when it’s you on the receiving end, there’s just something that stops him. No matter how much you broke his heart.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have run away from what you’d said.”

Theres something in your words that makes him wake up and finally realise that he’s been running away too. Not just now. But for way too long. Jisung’s been running away from telling you how he really feels about you. For so long he’s talked himself into waiting for you to fall in love with him, to wake up and finally see that the person you should be with has been by your side the whole time. His feelings have been repressed and he’s forced himself to be invisible for too long. But he’s done with that now.

“Sungs, are you ok?” He blinks back into reality, not having realised he’d gotten caught up in overthinking for too long.

You watch him, wide eyed as he stands up straighter, determination written across his face.

“Actually, I have something I need to say.”

You nod, waiting intently.

“I’ve been an idiot for too long.” And… you’re confused. “I’ve let you walk all over me for years because I’ve been so in love with you.”

“Heck,” Jisung laughs at himself. “I even let you off when you ditched me for Jaemin because I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You feel your heart break knowing Jisung had been putting himself down like that. Any and every emotion courses through you as you try your best to take in the weight of his words.

“I-” you begin, but Jisung cuts you off before you have a chance to say anymore.

“I know you don’t feel the same… it’s ok.” Jisung forces a smile. “I just need some time apart.”

You feel like you’re suffocating, unable to voice anything as you watch Jisung walk away. Chocking on sobs as the weight of the world hits you like a ton of bricks.

You just wished you’d realised sooner. Because if you had, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost your best friend, you wouldn’t have hurt him for so long and maybe you wouldn’t have had your heart smashed to pieces like you just have.

-

“Can’t you just have someone do the speech for me?” Your voice is muted by the duvet that you insist to remain under. Your mom perched on the side of your bed as she encourages you to at least go downstairs to eat something.

It’s the morning of the annual independence ball and you’ve not left your bed since you’d gotten home the day before.

You’d had many home truths and realisations from Jisung yesterday. But cocooning yourself inside your duvet has really helped you process a lot. Like the fact that you love Jisung too… and not in just a platonic way. He’s always been there for you and you’ve taken that for granted.

You’ve been so dumb to your feelings for so long, brushing infatuation off as excitement or just that you really care for Jisung, when reality is that your heart doesn’t flip every time he smiles just because he’s your best friend. It flips every time he smiles because his smile is one of your favourite things in the world. It eases your worries and brightens your day.

Just being around Jisung makes you feel like everything’s going to be ok. He’s always so supportive and soft-natured. He takes care of you not because he’s a good friend but because he loves you.

You know that if he were to be here today, you’d be able to get through your speech this evening, facing crowds of people and answering to them why you are abdicating your royal duties. With Jisung by your side, you can get through anything.

Without him you’re lost.

Similarly, Jisung has been trying to drown out reality since he confessed to you by focusing all of his energy on his band practice and fixing up cars. He went straight from school to the garage and worked through the night to try and get his mind off of you.

Which is why he jolts awake to Chenle shouting in his ear for him to “wake up!”

“Why!” He cries, rubbing his sore neck from the poor posture of his sleep on the couch by his band’s equipment.

“You seriously slept here last night?” Chenle doesn’t hold back any judgment, raising his brow at Jisung as he grumbles out unintelligible remarks under his breath.

“I get you’re heart broken or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you should give up now.”

“Well, what else should I do?” Jisung, still sat in the chair he’d slept in, sulks like a child.

“Uh, I don’t know, go after her?” Chenle retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But she doesn’t feel the same, I’d just be making a fool of myself…”

Chenle scoffs. How does he not see it?

“Of course (Y/N) feels the same. It’s so obvious.” Chenle leans down to place his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve had to watch you both almost every day for years.”

He’s not joking. He really has. All the times he’s rolled his eyes at the way you both act so soppy towards the other. You’ve both been too wrapped up in either convincing yourself that you have no shot, or mistaking your feelings to notice.

Jisung springs to his feet. With the way Chenle remains so serious, he knows he must be telling the truth.

“I need to win her back!”

-

You frantically pack, shoving everything you can into your bag before anyone catches on to what your about to do. You feel so hopeless, like a complete failure and you know you can’t face the crowd of influential people and reporters to decline your role of Princess. So you’re running away.

You’d managed to convince your grandmother to not send a limo because your mom wanted to take you to your first ball. And you’d also lied to your mom, telling her that your grandmother had organised a limo to pick you up.

As soon as your mom had left, the race against time had begun and you’d been flying around your room packing.

You pick up the embossed faux-leather diary your grandmother had gifted you when you’d first met and found out you were a Princess, stilling when it slips from your grasp and falls open to reveal a letter that had been tucked in between the pages.

Carefully picking it up and unfolding it, you realise it’s from your father before he passed away.

His heartfelt words bring tears to your eyes as he expresses all the love he has for you and his country as soon to be King. But the final line strikes something within you that makes you rethink everything you had planned to do.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you’ll be travelling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”

-

Helping Jisung come up with a plan to win you back is easy for Chenle. With the independence ball being that evening, nothing could be more perfect than Jisung turning up, declaring his love and sweeping you off your feet. Just like a true Prince. So he’d offered the plus 1 you’d given him to Jisung.

Waiting in the grand hall for your arrival feels like an eternity. Everyone seems to be here except you.

“Have either of you seen (Y/N)?” Your mom rushes up to Chenle and Jisung in a slight panic. Both of them shrug, shaking their heads no in response. “She told me a limo was picking her up, but apparently she told her grandmother I was bringing her.”

Shit. There’s something in Jisung that springs into action upon the possibility that you could be in danger.

“Stall until I get back.” Jisung directs Chenle.

“Where are you going?!” Chenle shouts back, but it’s too late. Jisung’s already run off.

“Oh no no no…” you whine as your car conks out, the heavens pouring down on you and pooling in your hatch-back. “Is this what I get for messing everything up!�� You shout at the sky, flopping back into your seat and sobbing your heart out.

You don’t blame the universe for this payback. You deserve it after all your selfishness. But you have been trying to make amends, to right all of your wrongs. You have every intention to go to the independence ball to share your decision in person. It’s the least your families country deserve. It’s the least your family deserve. But, right now, you’re failing. Failing at getting to the ball on time just like you failed at making amends with Jisung.

Gosh, even when you’re trying to do something else it’s still seems to end up on Jisung…

Just as you’re giving up all hope, a car horn jolts you up in your seat with a gasp. The headlights blind you momentarily as they round the corner, until the car has stopped beside you.

“Need a ride, Princess?” Your mouth hangs agape as the window rolls down to reveal Jisung in the drivers seat.

Although you can only see the top half of him, you’re heart summersaults from his attire. There he is, coming to your rescue, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie. He looks just like Prince Charming.

“How did you find me?” You remain in your car, unable to move from the shock… and the cold. You look like a drowned rat as the storm continues to shower down on you.

By this point, Jisung had gotten out of his car, into the pouring rain and rushed over to help lift you out of your vehicle to transfer you into the warmth and shelter of his own.

“Lucky guess.” He smirks from the drivers seat, twisting the keys and bringing the car to life again, before racing through the dark deserted streets.

You watch him from the passenger seat as he remains focused on the road, mesmerised by the steady focus of his eyes and his tight jaw, the way his hair - now wet from your rescue - drips little droplets of water onto his forehead and nose, down his cheeks to his perfectly plump lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You’re caught off guard by his question as it breaks the silence that had settled. You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that long, or the fact he’d noticed.

“I was… just looking.” You blush, turning to look out your window. You’re just thankful it’s dark right now.

A few seconds go by and you begin to recognise the street just as the car pulls into your grandmothers driveway and stops at the entrance.

“Wait!” You clutch onto Jisung’s arm as he goes to open his door. He freezes from the touch before slowly twisting back to look at you. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“It was no problem.” Jisung sends you a tight lipped smile.

“No. I mean, thank you for always being there for me.” You elaborate, moving your grip down his arm until you get to his hand, entangling your fingers with his. “For loving me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches. He’s not sure what to say. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. And the way you continue to stare at him makes him feel so warm and fuzzy and loved.

“(Y/N), I-”

“I know you said you wanted space.” You cut him off. “But I’m so lost without you.”

“Why me?” He whispers.

You slowly reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him in closer and closer until your noses touch. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe in his signature piney scent. The familiarity makes you feel like you’ve arrived back home and gives you the courage to utter your next words ever so breathily.

“Because you saw me when I was invisible.”

The next thing you know, Jisung’s lips are smashed against yours. You’re unsure which of you initiated it, not having had your eyes open in fear of his rejection. His lips are just as soft as you’d imagined they’ve be and you feel yourself unable to suppress the smile that explodes across your face, causing Jisung to smile into the kiss too.

Everything seems to fall into place again. Who knew kissing your best friend could feel so right?

Pulling apart breathlessly, you both continue to smile at each other, idiotically in love.

“We really should get inside and put Chenle out of his misery.” Jisung chuckles, only imagining the chaos he’s cause by trying to stall.

“I guess…” you trail off, sending Jisung a sheepish smirk. He knows exactly what you’re thinking. “…Or we could kiss some more?”

“We can do that later. But first, you have to tell your country you will be their Princess.”

~ bonus ~

“How’s my baby?” Jisung rolls his eyes.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He deadpans, failing to hide the blush that tinges his cheeks from the way you smirk at him.

You know he loves it really.

“But it’s cute!” You continue to tease, laughing as you speak.

“Whatever you say Princess.”