#releasing these into the world but not like in a releasing butterflies kind of way but

[frenchfriedgiraffe]

unfortunately i cant resist making this man sad

(the bottom 2 are unfinished things i gave up on. i dont think i will ever finish them so um. yeah)

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Ten

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Mentions of cannon-typical violence. Azriel and Y/n have a late night conversation. Fluff and other stuff.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Gwyn says hi by the way.” 

Azriel choked on his coffee, bitter flavor rising in his throat. Nesta sauntered into the kitchen, cool eyes glaring at the back of his head. Your familiar silhouette was nowhere to be found. 

Not here. His shadows whispered. With Rhys.

“Calm down you idiot.” Nesta’s voice dripped with unrestrained contempt as she poured herself a cup and sat. His tan skin glistened with sweat after his morning training session, inky tattoos splashing across his bare chest and trailing over his shoulders, down his back, and up to his neck. In the cloudy afternoon light it was difficult to tell where his shadows ended and where his tattoos began. 

“Y/n’s not here. You’ll have to walk around half-naked some other time.” 

Azriel winced. “That isn’t what—”

Nesta brushed him off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing over her mug. Azriel felt like a bug pinned down under a microscope. A crushed butterfly about to hang.

“How is Gwyn doing?” he asked gingerly, casually. 

“She’s fine. Believe it or not, the world did not end when you broke up with her.”

Again he flinched. “I’m sorry, Nes,” he whispered rather pathetically. 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. But you already know that.” 

There seemed to be no shortage of people he needed to apologize to: Elain, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, even Lucien — especially Lucien. His cheeks burned to think of the absolute mess of things he’d made. Feyre had been the quickest to forgive him for the debacle with Elain and Gwyn. But as Cassian had mentioned at dinner, there was a reason everyone was staying away from the River House, and the reason was him. 

Two years ago he’d challenged Lucien Vanserra to a blood duel for Elain’s hand. It had felt so right at the time, so obvious: three sisters for three brothers. But it was only when their deaths had loomed over her head with shocking reality that Elain realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. The mistake they’d made together. 

“Call it off,” she’d commanded him, blocking Lucien’s bloody, heaving body. The son of Autumn’s sword had been kicked away, scraping across the rock with an eerie scream and disappearing over the cliff edge. But Elain had stayed, soft brown eyes begging, “Do this and I will never forgive you. What we did… it wasn’t right. It was a mistake.”

A mistake, she’d called it. Years of silent longing and bare bone brushes of their hands in dark hallways. All a mistake. Those words had haunted him. They’d chased him into Gwyn’s kind arms where he once again mistook the friendship he felt towards her as love and broke her heart in the process. Add that to his lackluster response to Mor’s coming out and… well he had a lot of work ahead of him. 

He hoped he would be forgiven in time, but that didn’t mean he’d twiddle his thumbs until that day came. He scoured Prythian’s publishers for new releases of adventure, mystery, and romance books — the raunchier the better — and they showed up every month at Cagniv Library like clockwork. The priestesses still thought it was part of a trade bargain with the Day Court. He’d sent Elain and Lucien plenty of letters and gifts, but either they weren’t being opened or they weren’t bothering to respond. He wouldn’t blame them either way. As for Mor and Emerie, they were gone with the wind, too busy infiltrating lands and enjoying an extended honeymoon on the continent to bother with him. 

That cold stillness in Nesta’s eyes transformed into pity. It was hard not to be reminded of her own failures when she looked at him. Seeing him angry. Watching him crawl into the darkest corners of himself and burn every bridge he crossed had been a shock to Nesta’s system. A plunge into freezing waters that brought pain and clarity. 

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just give them time, Az. They’ll come around. If they did it for me, they’ll do it for you.” “I think our situations are rather different.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You didn’t try to kill anyone.”

She grimaced. “I came close.”  

He stayed silent for a long while. He washed his cup. He dried it. He put it in the cupboard. 

“Can you—can you please not tell Y/n?” he begged. His voice was small and quiet. He’d been a fool in the past and made terrible decisions in the name of love. Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. They’d all lived more in his mind than in his heart — people he could never fully grasp, and therefore never lose. They’d been safe. Easy. 

It didn’t feel that way with you. You felt solid and warm, even if he’d only touched you once. You felt more real to him than anyone else. You felt like someone he could actually have. Which meant he could lose you before you’d even become his to lose. 

“You can’t keep her in the dark forever. Not about your history, not about the bond. If you’re going to learn anything from your brothers, learn that.”  

“I know,” he whispered. “I just want to get it right this time.” He had to get it right this time. “I want her to fall in love with me because she wants me, not out of some sense of obligation. I want…” I want to be worthy of her.  

Nesta shook her head, a laugh escaping despite her best attempts to stifle it. Azriel looked at her like she’d gone mad.

She giggled again. “It’s funny. For a male as handsome and desirable as you, you have the worst fucking luck with women. The Mother must have a twisted sense of humor.” 

Maybe she did. But Azriel was still enough of a romantic to hope that he had learned from his mistakes, and that his bad luck would end with you. 

You shoved the notebook off Rhysand’s desk, loose papers flying out like uncoordinated doves. 

“I told you notetaking was a futile effort.” The High Lord didn’t even look at you, too busy searching for invisible dirt beneath his manicured fingernails.

You groaned and dropped your head against the book he’d handed you two hours before. 

Rhysand had to smile at your frustration. It was a wholly different experience teaching you magic compared to teaching Feyre. With Feyre, her greatest barrier had been her lack of knowledge (and her hatred of him at the time). She’d been thrust into the world of fae without preparation, but it had left her malleable and adaptable. It was like teaching a newborn how to walk — a mind that could absorb more because it knew so little.

But you knew too much. You could spout off magical theory at the drop of a hat. You were a pedagogical master with a thousand mnemonics to your name. You were the first to wake in all of Velaris, making your way to the Library before bodies could fill the streets, and you only returned when the crowds had either turned in for the night or gone out to drink until daybreak. You swallowed every history book on the Night Court, Clairvoyants, daemati, and death gods until you felt untethered from the earth — until your mind began to float outside your body, buzzing with thoughts that never went away. 

But none of that mattered. Your power was an immovable object that couldn’t be controlled by logic or studying. 

You shoved against that power now.

“Good,” Rhysand nodded, leaning against the window, “You’re getting better at it.” 

He lingered in your mind, hovering over the depths of your emotions and memories like a bird ready to break water. It had taken some time before you felt comfortable with the intrusion. Your first lesson together, Rhysand’s presence in your mind had made it impossible to focus. Panic had seized your mind and your body until you could do nothing more than brace your hands and feet against the chair’s leather upholstery. You could have sworn you saw a head of silver hair to your left. The gentle pitter patter of rain had sounded like dripping blood. 

It wasn’t like that anymore. Henna had left you with a useful skill — you could wind your consciousness around Rhysand and keep him there, suspended in that indescribable space where your thoughts lay so he could do no more damage than you permitted him. 

Through your mind he felt the narrowing of your power. You imagined it like a blanket wrapped around your body, suffocating but familiar. It was this power that laced your skin and made contact with others so hard. You imagined the fabric shortening, creeping up your arms and legs, curling around your torso and squeezing like a snake. Inch by inch you tightened it around you, burying it within your chest instead of carrying it openly like a wound. 

You held a music book between your hands — Nyx’s to be exact. The little Lordling showcased a certain aptitude for the piano his father could only dream of, and being as young and protected as he was, the worst kind of emotion imbued within its pages was agitation. You could hear one of the ballads written within it as clearly as if Nyx was sitting beside you plucking out the melody. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. You swallowed your power. Pulled what was outside inwards. Slowly but surely the music faded away until the book was as all books should be — silent. 

Sweat beaded your brow. This was the most difficult part — not tuning out the music, but keeping the volume at zero. 

Rhysand checked his watch. Waited. Checked it again. 

You lasted thirty minutes before your power burst out along your skin once more like a thousand prickling needles. You shuddered, half-disappointed, half-grateful that you could hear the melody again.

Rhysand clapped his hands, slow and proud. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room was dangerously close to five bells. Rhysand nodded. 

“Perfect timing. We’re done for today.” 

“I can go for longer,” you pleaded. 

“I know you can.” Rhysand pushed off the wall, polished leather boots gleaming. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers this time, the scent of wind still clinging to his skin after a visit to the northern war camps.

Old Illyria lasted thousands of years. The clans used to flow up and down the Steppes, following the tundrabeast that lay claim to those mountainous regions and were said to speak for their god Ramiel — Starbreaker, Night Herder — after whom the mountain is named. They don’t move with the cold winds anymore, even if they’ve kept their names: Ironcrest, Bloodborn, Windhaven, Seawhip, Hawkseed, Timberbane, and a dozen others. And they don’t make sacrifices, although the Blood Rite might be a close—

Rhysand rapped his knuckles on the desk to grab your attention and splayed his fingers wide. “I also know that the moment I dismiss you, you’ll scamper off to the Library to work until you can’t see straight.” 

You shifted in your seat. “I like it there.”

“That’s besides the point. If you keep going at this pace you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to help anyone. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I know what it feels like to burn out and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I promise.” 

Rhysand suppressed the urgent need to roll his eyes as you gathered your things and walked out the door. “And here I thought I worked too much,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

You carried Henna’s journal tucked within your new Librarian robes — black with ivory detailing and wide sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. You kept a hand on it during late nights at the Library. You ate with it propped open, black splotches swimming across the page like worms. You slept with it beneath your pillow. 

But alas, it would seem the book was going to make you work to wring meaning out of every odd symbol.

You were muttering to yourself as you walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. You’d effectively commandeered one of the reading rooms on the seventh floor, leaving the library only when required for Rhysand’s lessons. Helion’s most recent letter lay open on the table with Cherp’s resting just beneath it. A map hung crooked on the wall, four athenaeums circled in bleeding red ink alongside a list of books that had gone missing — the ones that people knew about at least. 

The Alcove, Ares House, Folkmen’s Bard, and most recently, Argot’s.

 Three Librarians dead. Their throats slit. Blood dribbling down their burgundy robes as they’d sat hunched over their desks. The week before it had been two from Ares House caught swaying from the third floor balcony. 

No one has any idea how it happened. The wards were never set off. Nothing in the Library was disrupted. I tell you this only because you deserve to know what’s happened to your people. Continue your training. Continue your research. Do whatever you need to do. But leave the court business to me, dear. I’ll write to you again when I can.

~ Helion 

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your hip where the book remained silent. “None of this makes sense.” 

You’d used every ounce of Rhysand’s training on the book. You’d imagined your power sliding over it like water, fire, needles shooting through cowhide, a hammerstrike, every metaphor imaginable. You’d glared at it with an intensity that would have disintegrated a lesser object. 

When that failed, you had moved onto solving the murders and thefts at your father’s court. You couldn’t content yourself with sitting in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs in Rhysand’s office sipping imported tea in porcelain cups while athenaeums were on lockdown. 

The pattern was shockingly simple — Koschei was going after books that could be traced back to him. Books that might give his enemies the upper hand: folktales alluding to him and his siblings, translated texts from old Bauldish that might have proved useful in deciphering Henna’s book, secondary accounts of the age before High Lords ruled. 

If you were Koschei you’d go after Godswoods next — the collection of athenaeums dedicated to religion. Then on to The Gallows — the athenaeum on death and dying. The two were intricately tied to one another, but people tended to write books on dying before coming up with explanations for what comes after. You’d spent a great deal of time there following your mother’s death, and you could picture it now — solemn black bookshelves looping around a circular room that tapered up into a point like a blade pointed to the sky. 

You finished writing your letter to Helion, along with the list of books you wanted pulled from the archives. Cagniv Library may have been a glowing beacon in the Night Court, and a place of sanctuary for the priestesses, but it was nothing like you were used to.

You held the paper out in front of you, Helion’s glimmering pen tucked behind your sharp ears, and blew. The black letters lifted off the page and faded away like a breath in cold air. The message was already writing itself back into existence in Helion’s office.

“It doesn’t make sense.” 

You scribbled out another note, this one for yourself with another pen. You ripped it to pieces and fed it to the fire. 

What was Koschei looking for now? Was he still looking for the book that now rested against your hip, or had he turned to some other prize? And why kill the Librarians and set all of Day Court on high alert? 

Henna had been careful. She’d stayed hidden until she was forced to tear down the Alcove to get the book. Whoever was causing the killings now was either a showman or a fool. They left bodies hanging from rafters. They carved smiles into throats. They let the Librarians know what they were stealing whether they meant to or not. They left patterns scattered among wreckage for someone like you to figure out. 

It all felt… juvenile for lack of a better word. Someone young. Someone who wanted to prove themselves in a loud way. Someone whose ego hadn’t been tested yet and wasn’t listening to Koschei’s commands in their entirety. 

Azriel. 

You couldn’t help but think of him. 

Azriel was nothing like that. 

He wasn’t loud. He didn’t vy for attention. He didn’t seek the light in a room. His confidence was quiet and true. His kindness took the shape of the shadows that lingered by your ankles. It took the shape of the robes you wore now. He was the only one who’d seen them at The Alcove. He was the only one who could have requested the court seamstress to make a copy and leave it hanging in your closet.

No. Azriel was nothing like that.

Azriel’s eyes lit up like embers when you slid through the front door, weary but bright-eyed and cradling your journals against your chest. The shadows he’d left behind with you slithered across the floor like mist. 

She’s been in the Library all day. Working. The shadows whispered in his ear. She thought about you. 

Azriel smiled. He’d thought about you as well. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” 

You gasped, closing the door louder than you intended. You’d developed a talent for sneaking in and out of the River House unnoticed to the point where Cassian considered hiding bells in your pockets. Nyx had tried to do it as a joke, but you’d caught him giggling too loudly in your bedroom. 

You brightened immediately, a broad smile appearing on your face. Azriel felt his heart leap, then quiet as he caught the scent of parchment paper. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You whispered, tip-toeing through the dimly lit hallway to where Azriel was in the sitting room. You sank into the couch with a groan. The hardwood desks at the Library had not been kind to you. 

He shrugged and brushed back his wind-thickened hair, shifting to face you better. A crumb-coated plate lay on the table and he still wore his leathers. He must have just arrived home. 

“I flew as quick as I could. I wanted to be home.” With you. 

He’d gotten so used to the feeling of you sleeping across the hallway that he’d flown the last three days without sleep. It was worth it to see you again. From the looks of it, you’d not fared well in his absence either. Your eyes had that glassy, half-there sheen: a perfect mixture of exhaustion and mind-crackling clarity. 

“And how were the Mortal Lands?” You tucked your knees beneath you and leaned against your hand, fighting the sleep that seemed to grapple for you now that Azriel was home. His wings were spread wide and you resisted the urge to close the last few inches between you and the talon that glimmered in the faelight like obsidian glass.

You’d never been that far south. You’d never had reason to. But Azriel flew far and wide. The Continent was now Mor’s domain, but the secret goings of Prythian and the Mortal Lands belonged to him and him alone. The Spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadowsinger.

Azriel shook his head. “Quiet. Koschei hasn’t touched them yet as far as I can tell, and the Mortal Queens don’t care. They seem to think that they can handle Koschei because he’s agreed to bargains with them in the past.” 

You made a noise of disapproval. “Like they handled Hybern? The only reason they’re still standing is because fae fought their war.” 

The scattering of human armies that had arrived on that battlefield had belonged to no crown. They’d either fought for the bloodlust or the money. You could respect them for that. 

Azriel tipped his head to the side, following the curling of his shadows around his shoulders. “But they are still standing. They don’t know what we sacrificed to keep them safe. That’s the problem with humans. They forget too quickly and get complacent” 

“It would seem we have the opposite problem. We can’t help but remember everything,” you said, with no small amount of bitterness. 

He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted your thoughts. Wanted to fall asleep to the sound of your voice after three weeks of silence. You weren’t aware of it, but the bond had felt thin the further he’d traveled away from you. Like a tightrope stretched to its snapping point. Now that he was back, and you were here, his heart didn’t feel like such a strenuous burden.

He smiled. “I think that’s just you. I know plenty of fae who are forgetful and empty-minded.” He leaned back, stretching his wings out to the side, and winced. They were whipped raw and tender from the flight. 

Without thinking you got up and moved to the fireplace, feeding wood to the flames until it crackled happily. There was a reason Cassian and Azriel loved to bath their wings in sunlight every chance they got. The heat helped the soreness and eased the wind’s rough edge. 

It also drove color into your cheeks and set your hair alight in a soft golden haze. You were a marvel. An angel with a halo to match and Azriel drank in the sight. 

“Like who?”

“Cassian.” 

You smirked and chucked the last of the wood into the flame’s gaping mouth. 

Cass was far from empty-minded, but after decades of being feared as the Lord of Bloodshed he was grateful that people loved him enough to be just a little mean. He gave and received friendly blows like kisses on the cheek and smiled all the wider for it. To threaten his life was the same as saying I love you. It must be why the Mother had made Nesta his mate. She said I love you to him all hours of the day. 

Azriel asked you what you were thinking, and when you told him he felt some of that pain slide off his shoulders like rain. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest started to hurt again and you thought about how rare that sound must be, and how much you loved it. 

“How are the others? Rhysand told me Feyre’s sister is down there along with your friends.” 

Azriel sobered up quickly and cleared his throat. “Yes. Elain, Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa.”

His voice caught on two names: Elain and Lucien, and it didn't escape your notice. He sounded... nervous.

“And? Are they alright?”

He rolled his shoulders and looked out the window to the inky black sky. Vassa would be sleeping now in her human form, and if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning still within the manor’s grey stone walls. Safe. Home. 

He shook his head gravely. “They’re nothing short of terrified. Koschei has Vassa under a spell that would normally keep her tied to his lake. He let her go during the war against Hybern and he’s been allowing her to stay, but… everyone’s just holding their breath and trying to prepare for the day he’ll take her back.”

You shivered and wrapped one of the spare blankets around your shoulders. You couldn’t imagine a life where every waking moment held the risk of being torn away from everything you held dear. The anticipation would have broken you more than the act itself. 

“I’ve heard of her. The firebird.” You murmured softly. You imagined a creature with glowing eyes, blue-red feathers streaking behind like ribbons set on fire. Azriel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and you explained, “Ares House records all wartime information. I read the reports. We’re very thorough.”

Azriel smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

Silence passed in comfort, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Vassa.

“Do you think they’d be able to stop it if Koschei did make her go back?” 

“I don’t know, Y/n.” And it was driving him mad to have Koschei hanging around like a forgotten word at the end of his tongue.

“I hate this,” you spat out, “The not knowing. I hate it.” 

Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes silently begging you to continue. Shadows curled around your body, gently tugging you closer to him until your knees were a whisper away from touching. 

You both sighed softly into the quiet air. Even the River House seemed to be at rest for the night. The usual background hum of cooking and cleaning were absent. It was just you and the Shadowsinger. 

“How are things going? With the book?” 

You slipped your hand through the slit in your robes and pulled it out. The gold chain rustled, glowing faintly from your touch. 

“It’s going.” You shoved the book back out of sight. You couldn’t even stand to look at it after the hours you’d spent agonizing over its pages. “Rhysand’s been teaching me to contain my power better. I can actually touch some things now.” 

But not him. Still not him. And it was killing you. 

Azriel gave another one of his small smiles. The ones that never failed to make the world a smaller, more manageable place. “That’s good.”

“I just… this may sound silly but, I’m not used to things being this hard. With my powers a lot of things just sort of came naturally for me. But now people are dying and I’m just sitting here on this very expensive couch and I can’t do the thing I was brought here to do and I… I don’t like feeling this useless.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. He closed the space between you even more, shadows hovering over your face in silent permission. When you didn’t pull away they brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over your face with a cool, silky touch. 

Azriel was all calm darkness and you imagined that if you reached out to touch his chest your hand might just slip through him like he wasn’t there at all. He seemed too good to be real. 

But he was real, and he was sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheeks. 

“You’re not useless. Never believe that. Not even for a second. And even if you were useless, it wouldn’t matter. You’re worth more than the things you can do, remember?”

“I remember.” Your voice was quiet and thick. 

You rested your cheek in the crook of your arm as you gazed at him wearily. 

Azriel kept his hands out in the open, one hand reaching across the couch cushions before stopping mere inches away from yours. His shadows closed the remaining distance, slipping in between your fingers to mimic Azriel’s touch. 

“Did you uncover any more secrets of mine while I was gone?” Azriel asked as your eyelids began to droop. 

“I confess I forgot to look. But maybe now that you’re here, I’ll start again,” you mumbled into the encroaching dark.

“I look forward to it,” were the last words that filtered through your ears before you fell asleep to the untranslatable whispers of shadows. 

Nyx bounded down the stairs, leaping the last six steps before landing soundlessly on the floor with a soft bend of his knees — just like Azriel had taught him. Feyre gave a proud nod before ruffling his ebony hair and Rhysand beamed. 

Let me. Feyre adjusted the wrappings around Rhys’s chest that kept Velaria’s plump body swaddled and comfortable. Her pink lips opened in a yawn that had both mates sighing. 

“Uncle Az!” Nyx raced forward towards the sitting room and then froze, mouth opened in a surprised oh.

Azriel slept like the dead on the floor, chest rising and falling with the beat of his gentle breath. You lay stretched out on the couch, one arm propped beneath your head and the other dangling over your waist and off the cushions. Your fingers swayed an inch above Azriel’s chest, shadows swimming over his torso and creeping up your arms so that even in sleep you were connected to one another. 

Feyre gasped softly at the picture. The sunlight blanketing the both of you in peach fuzz. The faint uptick of Azriel’s lips and the smoothness of his brow. The way you looked like you were bleeding into him. The black of his shadows and your robes. 

Rhysand rubbed Nyx’s shoulder and kissed Feyre’s cheek.

Let them sleep, Nyx. We’ll get breakfast at Huth’s today.

Nyx let his parents lead him towards the door without protest. He’d never seen Uncle Az sleep so soundly in his life. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Yeah... this slow burn is burning... but I just love it so much and I love writing all the sweet little moments they have and their conversations with one another and I hope you're enjoying it as well.

[vashtijoy]

I wanted to ask if you could clear this up for me, if you play in third semester and you get to Maruki's Reality, we see Akechi appear to turn himself in on Christmas Eve so, Im not sure exactly why we dont see him do so when you go back to The True Reality? what was the reason for it, Im not clear on it a bits

Hi! In short, Atlus want to maintain the mystery of whether Akechi is canonically dead or alive. Thanks for your question!

... okay, okay. More seriously, Akechi arriving on Christmas Eve is the first use we see Maruki make of his enhanced power. Akechi is present in Shibuya to take the rap for Ren because Maruki puts him there. So when that is later undone, Akechi is no longer there—and Ren was arrested and detained, all along. Just as he was in the vanilla game.

but doesn't maruki's reality start on 12/31?

We-ell... kind of. As he says in his 1/1 journal entry, Maruki finally merges Mementos with reality late on 12/31, when Ren has his dream about the butterfly. But he's already using his new power before that point, to do nice things for his friends, the Phantom Thieves.

It's not just Akechi in Shibuya. The Christmas Eve party in Royal is very different from its counterpart in vanilla—well, sure. Ren's not in detention, so the whole mood is different. They talk about Akechi, but then they just move on to have fun. Well, it is Christmas.

But the New Year's party is a strange sequence of pleasant events. Futaba calls it "an actual, real-life good ending"! We hear not just that Ren's conviction is likely to be overturned, but that Shido is to be prosecuted for the crimes he confessed. In February, of course, Sae will tell us that it took months just to document his confession, and that he's being prosecuted only for breaches of electoral and funding law.

Something else to note about the Royal Christmas and New Year events: to my ear, they have a glib, superficial tone. Don't you think so? Matters of import come up, but the team move past them, to talk about trivialities, about their party and the fun they're having. It's kind of nice; this is who they might have been without the weight of responsibility, of grief. But equally, that weight should be there.

This is illustrated in the script. Both events feature a long string of sound effect emotes:

These SE lines are never translated, but what you see here is Joker, Ryuji, and Ann laughing—waraigoe, the sound of laughter, literally "a laughing voice". This laugh, on New Year's Eve, continues through the whole group, not just the Phantom Thieves but also Sojiro and even Sae.

Coincidence? There are group laughs later, after Joker is released, and at the big confidant party. But those are just attributed to 全員 zen'in ("everybody"), or 一同 ichidou ("all present"). These lists of identical laugh lines at the start of Maruki's reality are just a little bit unnerving. By the time of Maruki's bad ending, those brief lapses into reality, with all of its unpleasantness, are gone.

So yes, in small ways, Maruki is using his power even before he merges Mementos with reality late on 12/31. And here's one last thing to pay attention to on 12/24. You know how Maruki alters reality itself, by altering people—by changing everyone's cognition so that the world agrees on its new nature? Watch Sae, during this scene.

She's surprised, sure—but she never seems surprised that Akechi is alive. She's just surprised that he's turning himself in. In the vanilla scene, on the other hand, she explicitly says that Akechi is missing. Ren can bring up that Akechi is back from the dead, but Sae doesn't seem to care!

Wheels within wheels.

so where's akechi in the "real" timeline?

Can of worms. Which "real timeline"? There are two, depending on whether or not you maxed Akechi's confidant. In the vanilla timeline, you don't get him to rank 8 before the engine room, and he dies behind the door. But in the Royal timeline, you do get him to rank 8, and you keep your promise, and that gives Akechi the will to live.

(Yes, this is what I currently believe. And more than that, I think it's the true meaning of that creator interview, "the player's feelings are equivalent to the protagonist's cognition". It doesn't mean that guy on the platform can be a randomer in his school uniform or a ghost!—it means there's one route where he's dead, and one where he's alive.)

In the game as released, we don't know where Akechi is. But in his February deleted scene—where he's clearly alive—he tells us where he was, for precisely this reason.

He wasn't in Shibuya at all. He was at this refuge, wherever it is, going into hiding. He wasn't around to save Ren.

If this scene had been left in, this would have been the moment Akechi came out of safety, out of hiding, and gave up on his life—to do what's right once more, to confirm his 12/24 decision, and face justice in Ren's place. If you think Maruki altered him, and he would never have turned himself in otherwise—watch this scene again. Yeah, we were robbed.

what else does akechi say?

On 2/2, Akechi tells us how it happened:

Let's take a quick look at that line in Japanese:

Akechi けど、君たちと戦ったあと⋯{F1 82}ともう一度会うまで僕の中にハッキリした記憶はなかった。 kedo, kimi-tachi to tatakatta ato... [Ren] to mou ichido au made boku no naka ni hakkiri shita kioku wa nakatta But after I fought against you all, I had a gap in my memory that ended with meeting up with [Ren] again. [lit. But, after I fought with you and the others… until I met back up with [Ren], I had no clear memories.]

hakkiri shita—"clear; distinct; vivid; plain; explicit; well-defined; sharp; loud and clear". hakkiri to kioku shiteiru—"to remember clearly". hakkiri shinai kioku—"unclear memories". hakkiri shita kioku—"clear memories".

Note that well. Akechi is not saying that he remembers nothing. He's saying he remembers nothing clear, which is substantively different, and not conveyed well by the English "a gap in my memory".

(He also switches address mid-sentence—in the first half of the line, he's addressing Ren as kimi ("you"), but then he cuts off, and addresses him as Ren. It looks like he switches from talking directly to Ren to talking to Maruki. And if you remember him being a dick about that moment on 1/2... this might be the line that reveals that actually, yeah, their promise in the engine room really did matter to him.)

Akechi believes he's dead on 2/2; I think there can be no question of that. There isn't a big reveal that he was alive all the time. And you can't even get this scene if you didn't max his confidant, if you didn't keep the promise—if Akechi didn't survive.

But there is an afterlife in the Persona universe, from which characters have even spoken—so I'd like to hear a little more, some day, about these "unclear memories" of his.

but how can he be alive

Bear in mind that the third semester looks identical (besides that engine room flashback on 1/2), regardless of whether or not you maxed Akechi's confidant. That's to say, whether Akechi dies in the engine room or not, the third semester does not change.

That means that everyone's perceptions of it cannot change. That includes Akechi. If he was dead and Maruki revived him, then he has no memories before he awakens in Shibuya, because he was dead. But if he wasn't dead—if he was at the refuge we see him at in the deleted scene, or in Hawaii, or on the Moon—if Maruki believes that he was dead, and attempts to revive him based on that conviction—

Well, then he creates a world where Goro Akechi died behind those shutters, doesn't he? A world where Akechi remembers nothing before he awakens in Shibuya, because now he was dead for those weeks. A world where, even though you saved him, Akechi died in the engine room. Just like in the vanilla timeline.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.2 (2024/07/13)—wording.

v1.1 (2024/07/12)—added a bit about how akechi bookends 1/2 and 2/2.

v1.0 (2024/07/12)—first posted.

[ispelexists]

SHADOW MILK COOKIE AND 'THEATRUM MUNDI'

"The world's a stage, and the actors are playing their roles in it"

The idea of Theatrum Mundi dumbed down. It's a simple concept, that concludes that the life itself is a show, being directed by some supernatural force like for example god etc.

(If I'm wrong correct me, I'm not that much into literature and this kind of stuff)

This idea caused me to write down a few prompts for you pookies <3

🎭

The thing is, is that you have so many options with this, like... AHHH

English isn't my first language, I apologize for any confusion I might've caused by these

Here's some ideas/prompts for you guys:

💙 1. 💙

����) AU where Shadow Milk's corruption begun not because of the overwhelming power he had, but because he, as the 'Virtue of Knowledge' knew everyone's script after looking at them, and being distraught by that fact, or the fact that almost every Common Folks life ended with a tragedy, a murder (by the hands of the beasts, but he doesn't know that) which terrifies him.

He, being the only one who knew about it, would try to figure out what this tragedy was, or to change the fate, not knowing the cause of it, was himself and those he considered him the closest.

🎭) In the end he got so focused on that task, he didn't see his own slow fall, and when he noticed it in his comrades, it was to late. The only thing he could do was to accept his end, and join the other Beasts in wrecking chaos, and ending the whole ACT.

🎭 (In this AU, he can only see the key moments in everyone's life, like for example marriage, death, and other important things, he can't see everyday life of anyone)

🎭 (Also the only one's he doesn't know his script, that's why he doesn't know he would fall to corruption, you can say that he also can't see other Beasts since they're equal in power, but I think it works either way)

💙 2. 💙

🎭) A concept where Shadow Milk Cookie, freshly after his corruption, goes around either in a physical form or hidden withing the shadows, observing random cookies life, and having a great time laughing at the absurdity of the fact he can basically knows what's gonna happen next.

🎭) For example seeing a cookie buy something at the store, and him being able to predict they would trip in a moment, which they do. After observing, he would start to act out, to see if his actions can change the events that would happen next (Example: Making person A fall on someone else's garden, and the other cookie getting angry at them, which would change not only Cookies A script, but also Cookie's B) (basically 'Butterfly Effect')

🎭) This prompt would allow to explore how he might've acted freshly after becoming fully corrupted. Reason being I think, he wouldn't jump straight into seeking chaos, but testing the waters to see how far he can go before anyone (witches) try to stop him

🎭) (As an Ex 'Virtue of Knowledge' in this AU he knows every detail of everyone's scrip/life)

💙 3. 💙

🎭) This one is a prompt for an 'x Reader', 'x Canon' or 'x OC'. Basically Shadow Milk Cookie after he got released from the tree (of right after he got corrupted) and meets Insert/Name and Gingerbrave gang.

🎭)Here it could go 2 different ways (or more, but I just don't feel like writing them all):

a) He knew of I/N because of being able to see through Pure Vanilla's staff and falling for them in that way, but after seeing that I/N either has no love interest planned in the whole thing, or has some else, he's getting angry

(if you're doing pre-corruption Shadow Milk, then he can get just sad, and attempting to change the fate by simply spending more time with I/N, but after it hasn't worked, he just watches from the sidelines, as their beloved live in their fairytale, and get their happy ending with someone else (ANGSTSSS YESS))

anyways, coming back to Corrupted Shadow Milk Cookie. He would attempt changing the fate in more drastic way, and getting really pissed that it won't change no matter what. Feel free to interpret it as you will.

b) Also after getting free from that tree, while he knew of I/N from Pure Vanilla, after meeting them, he learns that in their story HE is their love interest, and being like 'Omg, my star, where have you been all my life 😩' or something idk, be creative lmao.

🎭

The art without the text 😘

[ijustliketoreadstuff]

Lets talk about Gabriel's club.

Gabriel being part of a club where all his closest "friends" meet, may not seem odd, even viewers didn't think too much of it at first when some of the members came together for a party at the Agreste mansion back in "Gabriel Agreste". But the more we learn about what this club does behind closed doors, the more it feels like its no ordinary club for members to mingle and party.

The club not only has a great deal of security to keep non-members out, but it is even ensured that the members themselves are unable to release any information over what goes on in any event, regardless of who they are. Their clubs activities are kept under so much security and secrecy that it is even mandatory for the members to provide a fingerprint scan, wear masks and even relinquish their phones, along with their kids phones, before any event begins, and to make sure that no one can listen in, let alone get any glimpse as to what goes on inside, the entire facility is placed on lockdown, doors and windows all boarded up and locked. Any other person who would normally just be catering for an event, would be instructed to have no contact with any other members except Gabriel, all the while an added scrambler is activated to stop any technology from making its way through.

Aside from Tomoe and Gabriel, some of the other members of the club include Bob Roth, Andre, Audrey, Amelie, Prince Ali and his assistant Soraya, all of whom are business people, politicians and even members of royal families. The royal family in London that invited Gabriel and Tomoe to a wedding are likely also members of the club. It's no surprise Gabriel and Tomoe have such strong connections both in Paris and around the world, all of whom hold them in high enough regard to invite them to even the most private of events, like the royal wedding in London ("Backwarder")as well as prince Ali's birthday("Lies"), all very exclusive events.

Now, societal parties like the "Diamonds dance" might have been common enough for even Zoe to have regularly experienced them while living in New York, but knowing that Gabriel and Tomoe are involved in these kinds of parties, raises question if the activities surrounding their club may actually hold some ulterior motive for them and the members. Such a club would not only serve as a good space to interact with high society members who are normally scattered around the world, but it would also serve to invite and interact with any potential new members that have become wealthy over time.

Gabriel alone was not always the world famous fashion designer he is now, he used to be a struggling designer who lived in a studio apartment, before Audrey discovered him and gave him his big break in the fashion industry. Such gatherings for members of a high society would have been a good place for Gabriel to meet someone like Tomoe, who despite having no relation to the fashion industry like he did, would have met him nonetheless at something as simple and inconspicuous as a party. 

Because Gabriel was desperate to save Emelie from the effects of the broken peacock miraculous over the years, long before he committed to a life of villainy as Hawkmoth, involving others who had the potential to help him in his goals was definitely not above considering the more he spiraled into his desperation and position of power in the world. He already had Nathalie, who was an expert at finding relics and was the one who helped the Agreste family find both the peacock and butterfly miraculous, he even recruited someone as young as Lila back in "Oni-chan" to act as his spy into Adrien's life and help separate him from Marinette, all with the promise of being a model. If he recruited them, he might have already attempted to recruit others in the past from all sorts of places, especially societal parties, the more he realized he could not do certain things with his power and influence alone. Tomoe was one such person.

("Passion," "Multiplication", "Oni-chan")

When Gabriel first set out to obtain the ladybug and cat miraculous as Hawkmoth, it was assumed that his plans to use the jewels' wish granting abilities, were entirely his own. However, in "Multiplication", the show revealed that Tomoe was always aware of Gabriel's identity as Hawkmoth and was even involved in his plans from the very beginning. All the advanced technology that Gabriel used, from the weaponized security system in his lair("Robostus"), the power supply in his mansion that could compete with a power station("Party Crasher"), the machine that allowed him to reconfigure the miraculous into rings ("Destruction"), Emelie's pod etc. was not built by him, it all came from Tomoe, but by no means did Tomoe give all this high tech to Gabriel out of the goodness of her heart, she gave it to him because she too had something to gain, a wish from the ladybug and cat miraculous to create a new world.

To have the power that could grant any wish would be too good of an opportunity for anyone to ignore, even Marinette and Adrien considered using the wish their jewels could grant, before learning about the consequences that came with it of course, but it was precisely this kind of power that would have made things easy for Gabriel to convince others to join him in his pursuit for the miraculous, especially Tomoe.

("Robostus", and "Passion")

(In "Intuition", Tomoe reveals her desire to create a new world through the power of the ladybug and cat miraculous wish granting abilities)

Of course, Gabriel couldn't just go around telling people about the existence of the miraculous and the wish without drawing some attention, but the club's parties alone would serve as an excellent cover for Gabriel to recruit people over the years in his desperate endeavors to obtain the miraculous and save Emelie. If Tomoe alone was helping Gabriel from the shadows without anyone ever suspecting her, who's to say there aren't other members within the club who are doing the same thing from the sidelines. We don't know a lot about the other members yet, but judging by the way their children are, the majority of them are no different than Audrey and Chloe, believing they are entitled to many things without consequences, all of whom would definitely choose to ignore the true price that revolves around being granted a wish, a price that could bring devastation onto the world and other innocent people who would suffer the consequences of their choices (cough* it's just like in real life*cough).

The club everyone assumes is just a place where rich people gather, may harbor a secret society comprised of the rich people who aim to further their power and plans, through the use of the miraculous, and right now, Gabriel and Tomoe are at the center of it all. It wouldn't be the first time a large evil party of people gathered to obtain the miraculous, after all, in "Backwarder", it was revealed that even the Nazi's knew about the miraculous and hunted down master Fu to obtain them so as to use their power for their own diabolical plans. But again, let's just wait and see what the show has to say.

[bowieandqueen11]

Monkey D. Luffy Confessing His Love For You Would Include...

Request: Hi! I absolutely loved your Straw Hat Birthday post 💖 genuinely didn't fancy Luffy until I read that and now can't stop thinking about him! I saw you wanted to write another post for him so how about a classic How Would Luffy Confess/Show His Feelings for you? I just know he'd be an absolute clingy weirdo about it 🤩 thank you!!

Awww thank you lovely!! SO glad to be sharing the Luffy love, and you're so right, he would be so clingy!! :)

Imagines always take a lot of planning and time to write, so comments are much much appreciated!!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @general-cyno.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look, Luffy HAD to release his feelings for you. Right now. If not for the fact that every time he was in a ten centimetre radius of you his whole body shook with such perfervid vibrations he's nearly left a gaping hole in the deck, Zoro's clenched jaw was dead giveaway that he was ten seconds from lobbing his Captain off the side of the ship.

If he had to hear about it one more time. It was bad enough Mr. Curly Brows finding his way to butt into every conversation: placing down his whisk so he could clasp his hands to his cheek and turn to Luffy with such pulsing hearts catapulting out of his eyes at the mere thought of romance. Even worse was being subjected to Luffy's tireless campaign; the incessant drilling of Luffy in trying to make sure every crewmate knew his every inner, cogitating... sappy thoughts about you was starting to eat into Zoro's much needed nap time.

On second thoughts, hearing solely Luffy talk about romance was far better than hearing both he and the waiter prattle on about it.

Zoro placed his palms over his eyes and tried to block out the way the cook had begun fanning himself with the bottom edge of his apron. 'You need to woo them, Luffy! Make them feel like they're the most stunning person in the whole world- the most important crewmate on this ship!'

Luffy took a break from tearing apart the third plate of roasted beef and fresh bread poor Sanji had spent all afternoon sweating in the kitchen to bake to glance down at the meat quizzically. No - not quizzically, much to Zoro's chagrin. Luffy's eyes widened; his head tilted as he rubbed his fingers together and let his meal clatter back onto the plate, his eyes brightening as if he were burnishing all the world's sunsets between his hands.

He looked yearning.

What Zoro didn't understand - heck, what even Luffy himself didn't understand, was how long this long-held devotion had been balling in the pit of his stomach like gilded butterflies, trying to flutter out through his ever-growing smile. After his dejection at Shank's departure from Dawn Island, you had been the only person left in Luffy's life whom he still felt hope from. The only person, besides the kind Makina, who didn't treat Luffy and his dreams like a whimsical joke.

When you had found him on the shore of the coast that day: his legs shivering as he ignored the chill splash of the tide soaking over his legs, his straw hat hanging sorrowfully over his eyes, you knew immediately that all Luffy needed was a little bit of optimism. A little bit, as you stepped over the shards of splintered wood that you could only make out as the remains of a makeshift mast, of belief. As you folded your legs down on the sand and settled next to your friend and gently took the torn Jolly Roger flag from his clenched hands, that what Luffy really needed was your unwavering devotion.

Little did you know, as Luffy turned with bleary eyes and that - god - that still so tender smile twitching at his lips when he spots you, that he was thinking exactly the same. As you grasped his hand between your own and pointed out to the horizon, promising that one day the two of you would sail away underneath that spot: right there. That one! That little spot: those wavering streaks of shimmering gold that lay like a transcendental passage underneath the orbed sun, you could never have realised that Luffy would only reflect your adoration tenfold.

'Wherever we go, we go together right? You won't leave me?', Luffy has asked, wiping his snotty nose with the back of your intertwined knuckles.

'Of course! I promise, Luffy', you had recoiled with a laugh, wiping it off on his vest.

Luffy's so uncharacteristically still, so silent for a moment, that Zoro's almost tempted to shout for Chopper. 'They are!', he finally shouts, nearly making the table clatter onto its side with how fervidly his knee jolts. For a moment, Luffy looks almost sad as he drops the last piece of beef back onto his plate, but his spine is quick to shoot as straight as an arrow again: his wide grin blooming across his face like roped starlight when he remembers what he had been so busy thinking about mere moments before. And every hour before that. And every single day before that as well. You.

You had always been an integral part of his dream, and now he was beginning to understand why.

'I can't stop thinking about them!', he declares, much to a chuckling Sanji's delight and a groaning Zoro's annoyance. 'They're more beautiful than all of the meat in all of the entire seas!'

Zoro pinches his temples lightly before rubbing his hands down his face and crossing them stoutly over his chest. Sanji's quick to scowl over at him. Leaning back on his stool, the first mate sighs as he watches Luffy whip his head between his two cremates like a puppy whose just been tossed a juicy bone.

'What do I do now!'

'Just... don't... don't say that to them. The beef part. The rest of it's fine.'

Sanji clucks his tongue at the swordsman, desperately trying to hold back a seething retort. Instead, he turns his attention back to his Captain, coming to clean up his plate and reassuringly pat his shoulder at the same time. 'Don't worry, Luffy. You just need to show them that you care! Spend some quality time with them, shower them with gifts, offer them your hand when they're disembarking the ship... ', Sanji's eyes glaze over as he bites his bottom lip, and Zoro tries desperately to restrain himself from picking up the bowl soaking in the sink and dumping it over the moron's head. 'Such beautiful creatures should be treated with the upmost devotion.'

The only problem with Sanji's advice is, that Luffy somehow manages to become a thousand times clingier when he finally realises he's in love.

You'll be minding your own business: trying to eat dinner with your friends when you'll sense something sprightly and warm barrelling towards your side. Before you can even register why Nami's stopped chewing on a chunk of torn bread to wiggle her eyebrows facetiously at you, the jut of Luffy's chin weighs down on your shoulder. You flush, trying not to embarrass yourself in front of your crewmates (and losing your bet with Nami to see whether you or Luffy will cave in first and kiss the other one silly), you pretend to be intently stabbing at your carrots. Definitely not squirming your legs together under the table at the feel of Luffy's jean shorts riding up the edge of your thigh. Definitely not inadvertently hitching your breath as the harsh edge of his knee bumps against your own, his leg resting heavily as he your Captain nearly climbs on top of you. And definitely, definitely not feeling your hands go clammy with the intensity of Luffy's puppy dog eyes fixedly contemplating the faint splatter of blush on the cheek nearly pressed against his nose: as if mapping out the intricacies of your body was the most interesting thing he'd ever done.

'Y/n!', he finally starts, making you jump up. Nami was not impressed when your leg reflexively kicked out and hit her shin, but you Luffy was more than delighted when you slunk it back with an apologetic smile and hit the side of his big toe. Without a second thought, he wrapped his foot around your ankle under the table and nuzzles his forehead against your jaw. 'You've been training so much with Zoro lately, I saved you some of my meat so you can get big and strong like me!'

*Cue the shocked gasps from Usopp and Sanji, the controlled exhale from Zoro as he tilted his head back against the porthole and closed his eyes, and the self-congratulatory smirk from Nami.*

'I also borrowed some cookies from Sanji! They're super chocolatey. I tried a few to make sure that you'd like them!'

'Hey, those weren't for you!', Sanji bites his tongue and flops his tea towel down onto the table, but Luffy's too busy inadvertently ignoring the cook to care. His sole focus is on the sweet delight that blooms across his face at the thoughtful gesture as he fumbles some half-broken cookies out of his pockets.

'Sorry', he murmurs as he places them into your hand. 'I got a bit hungry and ate some of them.'

'On your way from the counter to the bench?', Usopp asks.

'Yeah, what is that? Like, ten steps?', Nami teases, but the words don't even register in Luffy's whirring mind. He's far, far too busy trying to stop his heart from pouring out of his gaping mouth like choking saltwater, he's blubbering so much. His fingers shake as he splits the last cookie from his vest in half and - as gently as he can - prods it against the plumpness of your closed lips. Once you've started chewing, you decide to return the favour; you barely half to lift the other half of the cookie before Luffy's nipping at your fingers like an energetic snapping turtle. When your pointer finger accidentally enters his mouth though, and brushes against that warm velvety spot lining the inside of his bottom lip, he freezes; the faint taste of sugar of toffee melts off your skin and against his tongue, and the usually so assured man forgets, for a second, how to breath.

It's only when your finger pulls back to wipe a few stray crumbs away from his Cupid Bow that Luffy finally springs.

'Y/n, let me get your crumbs too!' He leans forward with crinkled eyes almost closed painfully tight and pursed lips. Whether he was going to kiss or lick the crumbs off your face you'll never know, because at that exact moment Sanji tackles Luffy to the floor before he could get any closer.

Just want to warn you in advance: if you want to sleep alone, you'll have to bribe Nami into keeping watch outside of your room every night. Or you'll have to sneak off and try and stowaway in some old oaken kipper barrel under deck (although the stench is so bad you couldn't sleep anyway, and Luffy went wandering around the pantry for a midnight snack that he lifted the lid and found you anyway.) Because the only preparation you'll get before being launched into your hammock is the pounding of his sandals making the gunwales shake, and the slight pant of his famished breath before your door is kicked open.

'Y/n! I can't sleep! Can I come snuggle with you? Captain's orders!'

You don't mind though, and even if Luffy can be incredibly clingy, if you told him no he would feel sad, but he would always respect your wishes. It would be the worst thing in the world for him to hurt you in any way - seeing you upset feels like his heart is being clawed out of his chest, because in a way it is.

There's barely any time to plop your book down onto the floor and hold your hands out to Luffy before you're flung into the air like a ragdoll, his rubbery arms wrapping five times around your abdomen as if he were growing sunflower roots from his fingers: winding the roots around to kiss your body, rooting his blooms within your skin. Embedded together until you were almost sharing the same breath, Luffy passes out almost immediately; he spends the whole night snoring with his nose squished just under your eye, but you can barely sleep with the way he keeps rubbing butterfly kisses against your cheek every so often. It doesn't help that he keeps whining desperately in his sleep - his already clenching and unclenching fingers leaving their home in your side to claw at your thighs and lift them closer to his bellybutton. His dragging lips left a wet trail against the pulse point as he burrowed himself further against you, only settling again when the heavy weight of his legs squirm in between your own.

One time you were spending the afternoon wandering through the delightful market square of Seahorse Shore: the sweet smell of jasmine blooms woven between sun streamed lattices was matched only by the warm sound of Sanji's friendly chatter as he walked beside you, stopping from time to time to pick up and squeeze a rare fruit.

You froze when you heard something: an echoing pounding, like an elephant stampeding away from a wild hurricane that whipped at its tail, before someone jumped on your back.

You were about to toss the guy head over ass onto the ground, when you heard the delighted shrill of Luffy's frantic voice ringing against the shell of your ear.

'I missed you so much today! Mmmh, you smell so good, like meat and flowers!'

'Luffy, how did you get back here so quickly?? You were at the opposite end of the island!'

'He followed his nose back to you.' Zoro just turned around, deciding to take his chances getting lost down the billion white sun-bleached cobblestone alleyways on this twisty island than to stay watching the two of you be all lovey-dovey for another second. Gosh, by all the seas even Sanji yelped when he you stumbled forward, steadying yourself by wrapping your fingers behind the raised kneecaps Luffy had haphazardly thrown around your hips. The man hugged onto you like a koala bear backpack, because he had been apart from you for... hmm... twenty minutes?

He's always dragging you off for some big, wild adventure, I don't know, there's just something about the two of you sitting under the speckled shade of an orange tree with interlocked arms, a few fireflies beginning to peek their heads out from between the stout leaves, like honey dripping down from bowed boughs as you leaned against each other, watching the sunset. You were here. You had made it. You were free.

And most importantly, you were together.

Luffy lunges for your hand and starts pointing at the grass swaying between your shoes, excitedly telling you about all the bugs and beetles running around the soil (to Luffy, a big part of love is trying to share what you're passionate about with each other.) He does lift up a stag beetle at one point and places it on your hand, but he starts to panic when the insect frantically starts scurrying up your arm. Somehow you end up face down in the dirt with Luffy leaning over your back; the buttons of his Hawaiian shirt sway over your spine as his chest heaves, his lips dangerously close to being only a few centimetres away from landing on your shoulder blade. You would have blushed at the proximity if you weren't too busy picking grass blades out of your hair, and trying to help Luffy's stretchy arms unloop themselves from under your armpits.

When Luffy gets to flop his head back down into your lap though, feeling you card your fingers through his hair, all is right in the world again. For a while, the two of you just exist: watching the sunset brew violet and lilac gleams across your eyeline, talking about your latest adventure against Captain Kuro at Syrup Village and playing with each others shaky fingers. Its only when you take a break from stroking his curly hair against your palm that he stops and pouts, blinking rapidly up at you. When you lean forward though, tickling that soft spot between his earlobe and the cute freckle by his jaw using your free hand to pluck a daisy from behind the rim of his hat and tuck it through the loop, a bashful burn shines across his face.

Before he can think twice, he musters his courage and determination, squeezes his eyes shut, and lifts his spine up so he can plant a wet kiss against the tip of your nose.

Your eyes flash as you pull back, tenderly rubbing your nose against his. Cupping his cheek, you press a kiss against his forehead and fold your enclosed hands against the rapid pulse of your heart. Your eyes never leave his, and his eyes trace your path in... confusion?

I mean, the two of you have been in love with each other since you were ten years old, and this is the first time Luffy's brain has stopped to think: 'Hey! Maybe Y/n likes me too!'

The real time he surprises you though is when he plops his hat on top of your head. You'd been caught up fighting some Marines off the coast of the Conomi Islands, and had unfortunately been struck down by a rather forceful cannon ball to the side of the Going Merry's railings. When Luffy bust down into the Medbay, you'd never seen such clouds thunder across his face. His whole body seemed to sag once he spotted you, his eyebrows unfurrowing as he almost tripped over his own feet in his desperation to get to you.

'I... I was so worried. I saw that Marine hit you, and I-

For once, Luffy stops talking. Instead, he takes his hat and places it over your tired eyes, hoping you won't see how flustered he looks when he leans down to press his lips against the top of your bandaged arm.

'You- you promised', his voice wavers as if he's about to start sobbing, but he hides the noise by wiping his nose with his forearm. 'You promised you'd stay with me. Always.'

'I meant it Luffy - I'm a Strawhat Pirate, you can't get rid of me that easily. What would my helpless Captain do without me?', you smile, brushing the back of your knuckles languidly down his the growing tearstains of his cheek, despite how much your whole body screamed at you to rest.

'Promise?', he asks, his voice shaky.

'I promise.'

He didn't have to say it. You both knew. You had always known. There was no one without the other. There was no dream without you.

So when he clumsily slapped his hands on either side of your cheek, smushing them together so you looked like a blabbering pufferfish, you weren't surprised. When he nearly sent the stretcher you were perched on rolling across the room by standing between your legs and pressing his torso up against your chest, you didn't blink. When he smashed his lips against yours, leaving kitten licks against the inner seam of your mouth as if he were trying to eat his way into your tongue, you didn't think twice.

All you did was kiss him back, the unwavering devotion that had always tied your lives together finally finding freedom by flooding into your hearts.

[felassan]

Thoughts on the DA:TV Companion Concept Art:

General

I love that we saw these and I think the art is beautiful!! it's so cool seeing different versions of a character, different ideas for a character, and how things translated from concept arts into the character models in the game. I can't waaait to look through the rest of The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, with a fine-toothed comb!!

each character has iconic color palettes and iconic shapes and stuff :)

I feel like there is a lot to examine in these pictures, even with the spoilery text redacted!! 🔍🔍

I'm so extremely curious about what the redacted text says. 👁️

It looks like the geometric patterns drawn behind the characters are slightly different each time?

In the ones where multiple different outfits are shown for the character, do you suppose that these are only discarded concept ideas, or are some similar to some of the alternate outfits for the companions that we can find or upgrade for them in the game?

in some of the pages, there appears to be additional parts of the page blanked out/redacted rather than just the paragraph of text. I wonder if there are small text captions or even additional small drawings in those spaces that also needed to be redacted for spoiler reasons 👁️

In some of the sections below I just described what part of the art I was referring to, in others I popped in images because I was finding it hard to describe what I meant ^^

Also, the associated tweet mentions the BioWare Gear Store-exclusive variant of the artbook. The link in it just takes you to the general Gear Store website landing page at the moment. At the moment, the BioWare Gear Store variant of the artbook is out of stock (it went out of stock really quickly after release). However, CM Violet mentioned in the Discord that "We are planning on another printing [of the Gear Store variant of the art book], but no date yet! I'm sure we'll announce it when we have more news!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Bellara

Bellara's page is the only one I think with no name. did her name have to be redacted too bc of a spoilery reason?

I LOVE Bellara's pages. she's just so 🥺 (clenching my fist). some aspects of the design of Bellara's clothes remind me of butterflies or butterfly wings.

Left: the angle of this one reminds me of her party icon art. Center: this one shows a different design concept for her vallaslin. in this one she also has different earrings. in the full version of this drawing, it looks like she is holding some kind of tool in her hand (makes sense considering her Tinker ability), while in her other hand it's a piece of cloth, reminding me of the way mechanics are sometimes drawn holding rags during their work. her posture in the full version of this drawing is like 'You can fit sooo many triangles inside this bad boy [the giant elf head artifact/sculpture]'. hhh. Right: can anyone make out what the text above her bag says? ^^ btw, this bag design is so cute. edit: thankyou to @squidaped-oyt who mentioned in the replies of this post that this looks like it says "Foldable map"! more on that here.

HELLO??, this ancient elven sculpture/artifact thing is extremely 👀. the scale of it compared to Bellara is massive. there are beams of light coming from its eyes and the triangle set in its forehead. the triangular parts are a now-familiar aspect of ancient elven magic-tech and artifacts. the nose bridge reminds me of the design of elven nose bridges circa Dragon Age II - only he has a pointed part on his in addition. the bald head we're all familiar with from ancient elven statues, in-world murals/wall paintings etc. is it just me, or are the teeth also pointy? I wonder what this thing is.. was it just decorative (a head of a giant statue)? (this kind of thing in this Veil Jumper/Arlathan Forest concept art comes to mind). was it an art piece representative of a particular Evanuris or one of their chosen? or did it have some kind of actual function - maybe it was part of a giant protective automaton kinda thing? what this head really reminds me of is Codex Entry: Vir Dirthara: Signs of Victory -

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nan stares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth. "Hail Elgar'nan, first among the gods! Mark his victory eternal!"

Could this be [part of] one of those sorts of monuments/eidolons? It sure looks like it's snarling through its open mouth. And it has narrowed eyes and light is radiating from them.

The other things it reminds me of are: 1. the ancient elven sentinels (the magic-bot kind, not the Abelas and crew in Temple of Mythal kind), two. like maybe it's a giant one of these. 2. these big ancient elven hands and the Dead Hand landmark (see Trivia section) in DA:I, which is found in the Dales and contains an elven shrine and is not far from Ghilan'nain’s Grove.

Horace Medford wrote of that landmark,

"The great stone hand was something of a mystery. One assumes it is a piece broken off from a larger whole. If so, judging by the size of that one hand, I imagine the entire sculpture to be... well, large enough to require the use of obscenities to describe it. Thus I have only one question: where is the rest of the statue? It is difficult to imagine how something so large could go missing."

like maybe the head from Bellara's concept is the giant head to a similar kind of pair of giant hands (of either type).

(^ post which discusses these both here)

Left: the way this bracelet thing is worn gives it the impression of a watch, which is cool and fits her machinist/inventor kinda vibe/aesthetic :) Center: the cloth, a bit dirty from active use (what a thoughtful touch), tucked into her belt :) Right: I love the eyepiece/monocle look!! It's giving Artificer, it's giving gadgets. does anyone else think Bellara and Dagna would get on super well? 💜

These are all super interesting and I love that they were thinking about the different parts of Bellara's kit and belongings like this. in the top row, it looks like the book on the left is the closed version of the book on the right. Bellara's book full of research notes :D what I wouldn't give to browse through it!! I love how she's filled it with different bookmarks, it gives you an insight into her mind and the way it works. on the front is one of those ancient elven golden faces (like on Solas' armor's knees in Trespasser, on the Sentinels in the Temple of Mythal, on the ancient elven Deluxe edition of DA:TV armors, etc). inside, it looks like she has pressed a flower, which is so lovely. on the right-hand page, I'm really curious about the drawings there. what is it of? a map, a diagram? it reminds me a bit of the map of Arlathan Forest in the Veil Jumper issue of Dragon Age: The Missing (and it would make sense for her to have a map, Arlathan Forest is changeable lately). and if you squint, maybe that's an 'X marks the spot'? also extremely curious is the drawing on the left-hand side of the page:

Who is this depicting? the figure's headshape/headpiece/mask reminds me a lot of the Evanuris headshapes. and the general vibe of the drawing reminds me of the ancient elven Evanuris mosaics (example). Sylaise-y? but maybe it's not an Evanuris and it's more like a figure from Bellara's past? the way the flower is pressed on this page makes it look tender, like memory. or if it was an Evanuris, it makes it look like an offering or token. perhaps Bellara's vallaslin correspond to Sylaise or whichever member it is. there was a time before the gods came back the way they did in DA:TV.

It's also really cool to get a look at the fold-out material thing. do you think she usually carries this rolled up at her belt or in her bag? it looks like somewhere where she stores various kinds of ancient elven triangle fragments, or maybe it's even some kind of strange map. A map of a bunch of different reality-fragmented Veil Bubbles or something would look really strange no doubt, not like a normal map.. edit: more on that here.

Davrin

It's neat to see different hairstyle versions of Davrin! the shape of the blue sword reminds me just a lil of Starfang, which is really nice. and we saw Davrin with a griffon-wing shield like there is in these concepts in the character reveal trailer.

Comparisons of the various vallaslin designs he has in his concept arts to the final one in the game. (in some of the concepts, his vallaslin look a bit bluer, which reminds me of his tarot-style art from the party selection screen). though, in the right-most version, it looks more kind of like a circlet, a Samara Mass Effect-type situation instead :)

This on his heel is totally a spur. makes sense, for a Warden that may one day be a griffon-rider like the Grey Wardens of old :') (at least in the sense of visual language, like "spur - riding - horse - griffon").

We see Davrin equipped with an additional dagger/shortsword like this in the warrior gameplay video, albeit not this specific one, if you go by the handles.

He maybe has some stubble here. ^^

In this version of Davrin, it looks like he has a staff. (though, he still has a sword here too). Is it a polearm kinda deal, or was there a time during development when Davrin was a mage? perhaps the elf in this concept art is a version of Davrin? that elf is wielding a staff to fight, and there are some similar aspects in the outfit designs, like the considerable collar.

interestingly, his staff here reminded me of the staff held by the elven figure on the front of the DA Vinyl art. 🤔

^ Looking at that staff-Davrin concept more generally, it's interesting that this version has more overtly Grey Wardenny-parts to his armor compared to his final look, like the griffon symbol on the chestplate and shoulder.

This Davrin holds out his arm, like a falconer. in Dalish culture, the hawk is a sacred animal of the Huntress Andruil.

And this Davrin straight up is a falconer. how cool!! due to image resolution I'm not sure if the darker parts on the raptor are parts of its plumage or accoutrements, but in falconry, the birds sometimes do wear these types of accoutrements. Falconer Davrin Concept reminds me of that one DA:I Dorian concept art where Dorian had a monkey haha. :D the attention to detail in Falconer Davrin is neat too, you can see that on the hawk-perch arm he has a thick extra cover on his arm, due to the sharpness of raptor talons and grip. I really love Falconer Davrin's griffon shoulderplate, and when looking at the more geometric diamond design of his vallaslin here, what struck me was its resemblance to the diamond geometric pattern behind him.

Harding

Harding is the only one on the concept art among the named characters there who is listed as her surname rather than her given name haha. she's just Harding just like Hawke is Hawke, that's just the way it is.

The flower and leaf pattern in the top left is cute, I wonder if it was inspiration for the flower and leaf stitching Harding has on the collar of her casual clothes in the game. In the concept art it looks like the kind of design that you might have on the leatherwork on the front cover of a beautiful leatherbound journal or something. :) In the central picture she's holding and appreciating a blue flower, which is so cute ♡ and which ties to what was said about her loving plants, raising plants, and nature. she has what looks like the Inquisition hairy eyeball symbol on her belt pouch as well as on her knee pads. (;;) the version of her to the left of that shows her with her hair down, in a more pony-tail like sort of style. on that version of her, you can see flower and leaf floral patterns curling up the bottom of her cape. (very pretty).

To the right of the central image, there's a big diagonal blank rectangle of content which has been removed, presumably due to spoiler reasons. Was this also text? It seems like a weird angle to have placed text at. Maybe it's a drawing of an object of some kind being hidden? A different version of her bow perhaps? (this is the case in a few of the companion concept arts btw.)

The tailored coat and pinstripe pants version of her is so cool. :D look at the tails on the back of her coat in that image. dapper. Harding formal wear? :D

of course, the two most !! images from Harding's one are these ones. copying over my thoughts from that post,

Presumably this is to do with Harding’s new magical stoney earthy powers. (In the second image, along with the bow, it looks like half her face, part of her neck and her arm itself is also stone/crystal). The glass-like shiny parts reminds me of quartz or something. :)

I do wonder if (if they are still things in the game) perhaps those two images or the stoney parts of them could also potentially have done with being redacted for spoiler reasons? how I wish the Harding image was higher resolution so we could take a closer look at stone-Harding..! somewhere off in the distance, Varric "haha, you'd be Harding in Hightown" Tethras is like "haha, Harding, you're hard/hardening" hhhh. 💀

In the image with her hood up, the blue veins on the bow remind me of blue lyrium veins. I also wonder, is she holding the stone/crystal bow with her stone/crystal arm, or is the bow simply growing from the arm? does the hard surface of her body when it's like this repel or take less damage owing to its hardness? is this something she might be able to do in gameplay later on as her story (and powers) progress?

it stands to reason that if you can turn other people/things to stone, as she did to some ghouls in the release date reveal trailer, you might also be able to extend this power to yourself. presumably this ability is tied to the Titans, the dwarves as their children, the Stone, maybe a restored (in Harding's case) connection to that, the way dwarves used to be. it also reminds me of how golems are created using live dwarves. Caridin said "It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier." 👀

Btw, speaking of Harding's magical powers, I wonder if Harding dreams at night now..?

Lucanis

it looks like there's a spot on Lucanis' page other than the text at the top that is blanked out/redacted. I wonder what it contained.

part of the geometric designs behind him reminds me of his eyes motif.

some of the alternate outfits for him look really like, majestic. in the one with the manbun, he has big poufy shoulder pieces and huge sleeves.

I wonder if any concept art of clean-shaven Lucanis exists anywhere? ^^ I'm really curious about what he looks like clean-shaven, or without a beard as he was in The Wigmaker Job.

I'm losing my mind at all the different concept ideas for Lucanis' hair, especially the one with the curled forelock and LUCANIS MANBUN omg. but I like his feathery mullet that he has in the game the best. :D

The design and coloring of his sword is just so COOL. The oil-like iridescence, purple-black, is like corvid feathers.

What a lovely sketch, lovely pencilwork. ◕‿◕ his eyebrow is slightly raised and you can see here again that his nose is slightly 'crooked' (perhaps he's broken it in the past?). I love this sort of feature sm in every character that has it.

In this one his eyes are doing the glowing purple thing again. again he is not defeating the possessed/dead/abomination/-somethingelserelatedorsimilar-is-going-on with him allegations. this one has a hood in an Assassin's Creed sorta style and the general vibe is like a ninja. the shoulder pieces look feathery, and the cloak/coat looks like feathered wings or tailfeathers. this piece feels the most "The Demon of Vyrantium" in vibe hh 👁️ And are you guys seeing this?? Here it looks like has claws like Wolverine hh!! :D though he could simply also be holding multiple knives in between his fingers (of the sort you can see at his belt in another concept, I've put that one just below here to show them), or have a bladed gauntlet, etc.

This person coming at you in the night, no wonder the evil Venatori magisters are scared of him :)

Coffee, no doubt :) cool mug shape.

Bird design again on this leg-piece.

Left: a take on the now-iconic Antivan Crow bird-masks. really cool design. here it's giving Batman, it's giving masquerade ball. I really hope we see him wearing a Crow bird mask of this sort at some point during the game!! 🧎🕯️🧎 it's a big missed opportunity if not imo hh. Right: Lighthouse casual-wear, or something very close to it. his vibe in this art is also similar to his vibe in the Lighthouse group shot.

Veilguard symbol on his chest? some of the alternate outfits include a more Veilguardy purple to them, and this one reminds me of how the Veilguard symbol looks for Rook here for example.

Lastly, in this main one, his general shape is sooo triangular. :D and his face/expression here really captures this description of him from Tevinter Nights:

Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from—until he looked at you.

In this one I also get the sense of dark circles under his eyes, which is a trait that in fiction reminds me of coffee-drinkers. ^^

Emmrich

Both staffs in Emmrich's concept art are different to the one we see him with here, but the bigger one on the concept art is close to it.

In this concept it looks like Emmrich has a scar on his chin.

Left: without his jacket on, he looks so svelte. the gold parts on his boots/knees remind me of the gold headpieces fixed to walking dead in the Necropolis. they are also hexagonal in shape, which I've become convinced is part of Nevarra's visual design language (and therefore part of Nevarran architecture, fashion/culture etc. :D he has so many bracelets and rings. Center: he looks so happy here and in the one next to it! these versions of Emmrich seem to lean more to the purple side of his color palette. these ones have a sorta futuristic vibe. you can see some of the tools of his trade at his belt, and it's a different version of his staff. here the skull floats at the top of the staff and burns with green fire, rather than being fixed to the pole of the staff. Right: Emmrich with big hair! quiff-like, and it looks like a large part of it is white rather than gray.

in this alternate outfit he's wearing a work apron with tools of his trade on the front. he's holding a glass flask that is filled with green liquid and billowing green smoke. I wonder if Emmrich is skilled at alchemy? do you think he has a lab, or that his room in the Lighthouse might be filled with stuff like alembics?

Looking again at Emmrich's outfit in these arts - from the back, the back of his coat reminds me of depictions in art and tv/film of the blood eagle?? (if you are sensitive or squeamish to gore and things of that nature, please don't google that!). the lines on the back of his shoulders remind me of musculature. The repeating pieces down the center of the bottom part of his coat reminds me of a spine. and the back of his gold belt-piece from behind straight up looks like a pelvis. the skeleton and body imagery here is an amazing art direction/symbolism for him!! what a bigbrain idea. is that sort of detailing why the design of the front of his coat looks like someone's chest has been opened on an operating table?

also, the long coat reminds me of labcoats. :)

I wonder if the bracelets and things are a Nevarran cultural thing/common fashion in Nevarra, or more of just an Emmrich thing? ^^

lastly his expression in the one on the right is so gentle and kind.

Neve

There are two spots on Neve's page other than the text at the top that are blanked out/redacted. I wonder what they contained.

I love that they tried out differing concept/designs for the look of Neve's leg, and what looks like a stand for it as well. they're all really neat and you can see serpentine aspects in all of them. a person could also have more than one.

this image contains another great reference for Neve's wand-cane thing. here the orb in the middle looks like a big pearl, like from inside a mollusk. the ring around it is definitely evoking the body of a snake coiling.

The concept art contains a blond version of Neve. because of her ice powers, it reminds me a bit of Emma Frost (Marvel). look at that Neve's heeled boot, and the size of her hat!!

I prefer the Neve they decided to go with in the end. ♡♡ ^^

Taash

oh my goooood. breathing in and out rapidly into a paper bag. oh my godd. she looks sooo cool!! I'm posting the whole thing again here just bc omggg.

Most versions of Taash have the green crystal horn. her concept arts show versions with different skin colors. her eyes in some of them look green. I love all her different-version Lord of Fortune / Rivaini gold pieces. in the top-left hand version of her, her bigger shoulder-piece is really cool (the right-hand side one); it could at once be a piece of spiky dragon bone or a piece of a big spiky sea-shell (both ideas work perfectly for her character and background). I've said this before when talking about Taash's design, but I love the parrot-break design of one of her weapons. it's very piratey. in this page, we can see several different versions of the parrot-beak weapon. also, I love all her different facial expressions.

in the right-most Taash concept, the dragon tooth-like pointy bits on her gauntlets look like they're made out of gold, not tooth. her big piratey boots are so cool and they even have a gold coin on them! you can see the spike braided into the end of her ponytail, and in that drawing the dragonscale-looking parts of her iconic armor look even more scaley, owing to the way they graduate from a full covering of scales to a partial covering to not present (in a way that reminds of how on some fantasy arts of things like dragons, there can be softer/less protected areas of their hide with no or less scales, like towards their undersides):

The bottom-left most illustration looks like it might be her iconic armor, only seen from the back, which is good to have a reference of. the design of her sword scabbard is cool, it's like the segmented flat of a dragon or sea-serpent's tail. in that image it also looks like the eye of her parrot-weapon is matched by an eye on the scabbard. something about the designs of her sword and scabbard remind me of weapons like daos. from behind, it also looks like her gauntlets might have thicker armor on one-side, better protection for the upper side of her forearms. the fingers of her gauntlets also look taloned, in a way that reminds me of Fenris.

Okay now let's talk about the concept in the center at the top! this version has longer horns and more spikes in her ponytail, in fact the ponytail here looks like a dragon tail as a result. it reminds me of Flemeth's dragony hair from Dragon Age II onwards. this version also looks like she may have blue-ish facial tattoos, or it could be vitaar. it also looks like she may have a second, smaller set of horns. in this version, the red ropes are cyan-blue instead, and she not only has the spikes/teeth on her gauntlets, but also on her boots (knee 'pad' and the heel, like spurs). in this version, her swords are dragon wing-shaped, which is pretty metal. I can't tell if the triangular piece that hangs down in the center is from the front piece of her clothing or the back piece, but it gives the impression of a dragon tail.

Lastly, the concept in the center at the bottom: here her boots remind me a lot of Dragon Age II Isabela, who is of course, also a piratey type of character from Rivain. the giant axe here is cool, the shape of its blade also evokes the shape of a dragon wing and it looks like the handle might be made of bone. the way she's carrying the axe here reminds me a bit of how Iron Bull carries his weapon in this art piece. the teal and gold color scheme of this piece reminds me of the gold and blue/green of some Ancient Egyptian things, and round her neck it looks like she is wearing a torc.

[atinystraynstay]

Homecoming - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: The expectations vs. reality of bringing your significant other to your hometown

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem. reader

Warnings: mentions of death (of family member), comforting fluff because Mingyu is THE golden retriever boyfriend.

Word Count: 1.2k

Your eyes looked out of the plane window, your smile growing as you recognized some of the landmarks of your hometown as you flew overhead. It is rare nowadays that you get a chance to come home. Most of the time, it is your parents coming to visit you.

Mingyu liked seeing this side of you. He liked seeing you relaxed rather than stressing over deadlines or trying to meet social obligations. While Mingyu loved seeing you get dressed up for date nights, he loved seeing you dressed in sweats with your hair pulled back.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent. Please make sure tray tables and your seats are upright, and that your seatbelts are fastened. We will be arriving in about 20 minutes."

Gently, Mingyu leaned over to kiss your cheek. You jumped slightly, getting lost in your own thoughts.

You turned your head from the window to look at your boyfriend. Your cheeks were a light red color, a bit embarrassed for jumping. All Mingyu did was offer a light smile that made your stomach erupt into butterflies, forgetting all about your slight embarrassment.

What you adored about Mingyu was that he was never the type to make you embarrassed. He was kind and considerate, easily qualifying as the world's best boyfriend.

"Are you okay, angel?" He whispered.

You squeezed his hand gently, smiling lightly back. You were okay with Mingyu by your side.

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

The air around you felt still. There was light movement around the house, but you felt like you were in your own universe. Your parents graciously offered to let you and Mingyu stay in their home for your short visit.

While Mingyu was getting ready in your childhood bedroom, you were in your bathroom. Your makeup bag had spilled its containments on the yellow tile counter. Your curling iron was cooling down on the other side, unplugged before you would tuck it away back in the cabinet underneath the sink. Part of you knew you had to get ready, but the other part of you couldn't bring yourself to finish.

Not when you knew what was waiting for you.

Sensing movement behind you, you looked up. Mingyu was slowly approaching you, that loving smile of his that made you weak in the knees flashed in your direction. it didn't have the same effect today. No, after seeing that smile, you just wanted to curl back into bed. He knew this was going to be a tough few days for you, and he was more than ready to be there for whatever you needed.

"You look gorgeous, doll," he whispered. The room was so silent that it felt like he was up close to you even though he just stepped into the bathroom. "Do you need help?"

You hadn't even realized your dress was half-zipped. You were just going through the motions at this point. Once he was close enough to you, he rested one hand on your hip. His thumb caressed against your clothed side, pulling a gentle smile on your lips. He always knew the little ways to make you feel better. Even if it was just for a second.

"Please?"

Mingyu didn't need to be asked twice. Keeping his hand on your hip, his free hand gently grasped onto the black zipper. His thumb and index finger moved the zipper along the back of the dress until it reached the top. He went slowly, not wanting you to feel rushed but also making sure no hair of yours was at risk of getting caught.

Once you were completely zipped up, he kissed your cheek lingeringly. "Absolutely gorgeous today, darlin'," he whispered into your skin. His arms wrapped around you fully, allowing you to lean back into him. Slowly, you released a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding.

"You know, you don't have to put on a brave face today, angel. It's okay to be sad. That's why I'm here. I'm your shoulder to lean on, a safe space for you to cry. I've even got two mini packet of tissues ready to go for you."

Your hands ran up and down his arms slowly, not wanting to leave the room to encounter what was waiting for you on the other side. You weren't sure how you got blessed to have Mingyu you, but you weren't taking any second spent with him for granted.

This was not how you envisioned bringing your long-term boyfriend home for the first time would go. You weren't expecting to introduce him to everyone at your paternal grandmother's funeral. You wanted him to come with you this summer when you were going to be at your happiest with the warm air and summer festivities. Not in the bitterness of winter at a funeral.

Yet, you were glad he was here. He kept you together when you felt like falling apart, even when you weren't aware of how you were about to fall over the edge. He was always there to catch you.

"I know," you responded, a voice at a soft whisper. "I just don't know how to feel. I mean, none of this feels real. It wasn't supposed to go this way."

Mingyu slowly nodded. His head gently rested against yours after pressing a soft kiss into the crown of your head. "It's okay to feel however you feel. Grief is a tricky thing, but you're not alone. If you need a laugh, I can do that. I can also be there to wipe away your tears. If you want to go scream, we can drive around and blast music. But you are not alone."

You were truly the luckiest person alive. Looking at your reflection, you just took a moment to admire the man in front of you. At a moment's notice, he cleared his entire schedule so he could accompany him to the other side of the world. You tried insisting he stayed in Seoul, but it was a topic not up for negotiation. He knew you needed him.

"Thank you."

Slowly, you turned your head so you could tilt it up to look at him. He opened his mouth to speak but you just shook your head. You leaned in to press your lips fully against his.

It was a brief kiss, but one you hoped conveyed everything you felt and believed in. Mingyu reminded you of your self-worth, but also how important you needed to take care of you. And he would happily take care of you if you let him. And it was vice versa. Whenever Mingyu was in trouble, you hoped he knew that he could always turn towards you.

He was the one to break the kiss before resting it against your forehead. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling as if you just enjoyed the feeling of his body heat against you, internalizing the love you unconditionally showed you.

"If you want to stay here all day, we can. Wherever you go, I follow, sweet girl," he promised.

You knew deep down the next few hours, days, and even weeks were going to be hard. Part of you was afraid to experience the rollercoaster that is grief. Yet, you were comforted in the fact that Mingyu would always offer his hand to hold so you were never truly alone.

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

hi hi just a quick lil blurb I've been working on. After losing my father's mother last week, I am still trying to navigate how to grieve and what that looks like. I'm taking it day by day, but always find comfort in Seventeen

Hope you are taking car of yourselves, especially if you are going through a tough time. 🩷

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

His Hope

Rated Explicit | Warning: dubcon-ish, manipulation

He is the essence of fear. A being created from the fear within the Madame Butterfly, her rage and fear creating this Man in Red, a thing opposite of you. Blue, a calm and gentle creature like she was. Maybe he hates you for it? Envy? But all you can see is the way he cares for you as if your wings are brittle and your body too fragile for the slightly upset in gentle winds.

Yet, he is cruel to you. Having you dress in slips or robes thin enough to see through the patterns on the silk to see your beautiful skin. The Madame Butterfly took special care when creating you, the Man in Red was not given that care yet he has a haunting beauty about him.

The vines of his magic, treelike tendrils bind and hold your arms up above your head. You are sitting on the marble slab on this display with your back to the audience, none raising their heads, your blue wings flutter as you are anxious. Fearful.

“(Name).” His hand guides you to stop looking behind you to focus on him, “My little light within my darkest nights.” His eye on yours reflects his stern face, “Shh, they only are here to bask in your power.”

You gasp, back arching, head tossed back; his hand between your legs. You know arousal, the blessing it gives to spread joy, he uses that to unleash your gifted magic.

And tarnishes it with his own.

Your body knows him well, reacts to him like a long-lost lover. the Madame Butterfly once told you fear can never exist without hope. You are hope and he is fear, both interlinked and bound to each other.

“I shall never tire of this face or the way you express desire so well.” Your wings flutter as he speaks, his small wing butterflies flying around as sparkles of blue appear from your wings. “Yes, just like that.”

You stopped resisting long ago, he chipped his way into your mind before bonding you to him. Easy enough given you are the opposite and his match. If only the Madame Butterfly gave you to him sooner he would have had to be so cruel with you.

But in the end here you are fighting to not cum, fearful that once your power peaks and you cum causing that burst of magic within you to come out via the butterfly effect, he will twist it and use hope against humans.

“No, no!” Panicked, you fight.

“Shh, cum. Cum and share your joy with others.”

Using you, you can cry about it or starve yourself in protest but in the end, he breaks you. Fear does that, though your hope has lit a small spark within his heart. 

He keeps that to himself, that little spark will remain there so long as it does not consume him or this paradise.

“Ah!” The wave of blue, the expansion of your wings before the room surrounded by blue and white miniature butterflies, “Ahh.” It takes a lot of you. Your body for a second glowing before the power fades and you feel numb, used, yet you feel his touch gently assisting you to fall gracefully from your high into his arms.

The vines release you and he immediately holds your weakened form close to him, you stare at him as the world around you is a distant memory.

All that you see is his face, a gentle smile you know is not truly kind— Only you give kind smiles.

You close your eyes, you are completely helpless to him as he picks you up as the mortals bask in the high of hope.

He will return you to your room, your cage, likely to take you properly.  A taste of you is never enough for the Man in Red. You are his feast, one he indulges in like wine, too often but in moderation when necessary.

[vvallent1ne]

Make u Mine

sebastian drabbles + scenarios

pt 2 of Taking What’s Not Yours is taking longer than expected but is halfway done ☺️ but i felt guilty for starving you all so here, take these. go delulu :)))

inspired songs are listed below each one!

“I wanna feel the rush, I wanna taste the crush, I wanna get you goin’. I wanna lay you down, I wanna string you up, I wanna make you mine.”

Imagine the insurmountable tension between you and Sebastian before you got serious with each other. The teasing remarks, the longing glances, the lingering touches. You can’t help but admit that your libido automatically raised when entering through his vent. Your adrenaline spiked, your dopamine rose through the roof, and worst of all, you couldn’t rub off that love-drunk smirk from your face. You felt intoxicated in his presence—under the influence of some unknown force. It caused you to loosen up, to release your muscles of their pinched, at-the-ready position. But most importantly, it let you relax—he let you relax. His dorky smile, his quirky mannerisms, and his enchanting voice created a safe space of sanctuary around the two of you. It occurred to you in some rushing, unexpected thought wave, that you didn’t want him to make anyone else feel that way. Not the entities. Not the other expendables. Nobody. You knew you sounded selfish—downright possessive—you knew, yet you couldn’t help but let the notion sour your mood. You wanted him to be yours. Just yours.

inspired song: Make You Mine - Madison Beer

“Break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight, just let me be close to you.” + “Isn’t it just so pretty to think that all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

From the moment you squeezed your body through that uncomfortably small vent, you knew that you were in trouble. And whenever he began to talk, whenever he looked at you, you felt some unknown gravitational pull towards him. His voice had to be laced with some kind of addicting drug… the sound of it alone had you hooked from the first syllable. And now you couldn’t quit. But there was just one small problem—he didn’t like close proximity. It felt like he was rejecting this pull, fighting it from invading his space. Why? Couldn’t he tell it was fate pulling you two together? You understood his apprehension. You mean, you were a convicted prisoner. But maybe… maybe that’s the reason why you met him. Almost like a domino, or a butterfly effect. Everything you’ve done in the past has led you straight to him, and him to you. He just needs to clear the suspicion-filled fog from his eyes and let you in!

(i’m now realizing i made you sound delusional.)

Inspired songs: Close To You - Gracie Abrams , invisible string - Taylor Swift

“I break down and he’s pulling me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.”

You were hurt. Badly. Your odds seemed stacked against you from the very beginning. Eyefestatian, the Good People, the turrets, even the puddles of void mass were out to get you. But you managed to make it to your safe haven, Sebastian’s shop. You were practically limping through the vent, dragging yourself and promising that it will all be over soon. Exiting the vent after what felt like an eternity, your gaze first landed on Sebastian. You were quick enough to see the usually peppy smile drop to a concerned frown. He bombarded you with questions, as per usual. He fussed over you like an angry mother. All you could do was sit there and sulk in your shame. He was right, after all, you should have been more careful. You realized then that Sebastian must have been more worried over you than yourself. He began to tend to your wounds, and batted away your hand filled with your scrounged up data, stating that it was ‘on the house’. But you knew better than that—Sebastian doesn’t give deals to just anyone. You smirked at this as he finished you up. You were the only expendable worth losing a medkit for.

Inspired song: “Slut!” - Taylor Swift

pt 2 is COMINGGG yall i promise 😞😞 school just started and im already stressed istg.

anyways lmk if u guys want any specific scenarios in the meantime !!

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

hiii can u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on reader? like maybe reader is maybe a singer at the grammys and catches juliens eye

pls pls and thank u

jj chats: hiii!! i love this idea so so much and i am so happy i got to write it!!! i decided to do some headcannons and a bit of a blurb! but its mostly tailored to this specific scenario so if anyone wants a more general julien with a crush headcannons i can totally write that! just lmk!! also tysm for the request dear ilysm <333

warnings: RPF, no use of y/n, julien is very awkward!!!

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

So lets say that Julien is aware of who you are, she knows your music, but never knew your face. She was crazy excited about you performing at the grammys.

She’s at the table when your name gets announced along with the 2 tracks you are playing and she immediately recognizes them.

She gets all giddy because she’s never seen you before and is excited for your set.

You play a mash up of two ballads where your vocals are incredible, your standing center stage. (I’m kind of picturing it to look like Olivia Rodgrigo’s set at the grammys)

Whatever outfit you’re wearing is a beautiful mix of emerald green and gold. Your dress/suit/whatever you are wearing has a very flowy vibe to it.

Anyway Julien sees you as the spotlight shines on you and her heart stops. You were more beautiful than she had ever thought. 

Then you open your mouth to sing and it's like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was released in her stomach.

Phoebe notices her awestruck state and whispers to Lucy.

Yk they made a plan to make sure you met that night.

When your performance ends you smile towards the crowd of brilliant musicians, lyricists and producers. The room erupts in cheers and applause, your head gets a little light as you take everything in. Everything that you’ve worked for has come to this, and you’ve finally made it, singing in a room full of all your biggest idols.

When the stage darkens, a crew member meets you and takes you back to a dressing room, helping you get back into your original grammy outfit. As you walk back to your seat you spot a woman with platinum blond hair in a white suit standing near your table, seemingly waiting for someone.

As you approach her you get a better look at who she was. Exclaiming “Phoebe!! I’m so glad to see you!” You pull her into a hug.

Pulling away, Phoebe replies “Hey dude! It’s been so long!”

“Way too long! Oh congrats on you and the boys wins tonight! I’m so happy for y’all!” You smile, then noticing the other two that make up Boygenius approach, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. Lucy introduces herself and Julien, Julien stands squashed between Lucy and Phoebe. She smiles at you shyly, a light pink flushes her face. 

“Your performance was out of this world, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing like that! Isn’t that right Julien?” Phoebe asks, nudging her bandmate with her elbow.

Julien sputters a little bit before replying “Your voice is so pretty.” Once the words leave her mouth her eyes widen a bit, as if she can’t believe she just said that. Phoebe and Lucy share a look before Phoebe moves to squeeze your upper arm.

“Me and Luce are gonna go mingle, have fun kids,” She turns away from you but you can almost swear you saw her wink at Julien before walking away. 

“I don’t think I’ve never formally introduced myself, I’m-”

“I know you,” Julien cuts you off, horror fills her face at her ill choice of words, “I mean I don’t know-know you, but I know of you! I like you! Fuck I mean I like your music, its really good! And your voice is amazing. It's so pretty! I’m rambling aren’t I?” The tattooed woman sighs, her face flushing again, this time a much brighter red.

“Yes, yes you are. But it's okay Julien, it's cute.” You giggle, reaching towards your purse to pull out your phone, pulling up messages. “Can I have your number, I’d love to talk to you longer but I gotta go visit someone before we have to be back in out seats. Maybe we could get coffee sometime and talk?” You hand the phone to Julien, gently placing it in her open palms.

“Really?” she waits for you to nod before putting her number in, hands shaking as she types.  “Thank you! And best of luck to you tonight! Hopefully I’ll see you around.” Julien says. You smile and grab Julien’s hand, squeezing it lightly. Once you let go she's off towards her table again. 

I could totally see Julien being so nervous around you that she types in her number wrong. So wehn you get home and call her and some random 39 year old guy from Alabama replies you are taken a little off guard.

But it's all fixed when you text Phoebe explaining the situation. 

Phoebe def made fun of Julien for that all the time now.

[dwntwn-strnlo]

HELIX matt sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.

↳ 𝐀/𝐍. this request is from july HELP

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. matthew sturniolo x reader

↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. piercing date 🤭

↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? yes! . . . reader is best friends with the triplets (and has a soft spot for Matt), they are recording a video and then they talk about things they wanna do, like visiting a certain country, just some rambles. Reader then talks about how she always wanted to get a piercing but is afraid about it and never had the courage to do it. So the next day Matt takes her on a surprise date to a piercing studio where she gets it done. Just some fluffy stuff where he holds her hand and tries to encourage her to do what she always wanted to do. ( @hedgehogperalta )

"okay, okay, here's one." you say, finding a good question. "'what's on the top of your bucket list?'"

"scuba diving for sure," nick answers almost immediately. then trailing on while chris counters with his bucket list.

after the two of them finish, matt turns around in his seat, meeting your eyes. "what about you, y/n?" he smiles lightly, visibly interested in what you would like to do.

"oh," you huff, scanning your brain. you were so invested in nick and chris' rebuttal that you didnt think of your answer. "ive always wanted to get a tattoo or a piercing, but ive always been too scared to do it."

"ooh ive always wanted a helix," nick adds.

matt smiles, "y/n you would look really cool with a helix."

you return the smile, a light blush creeping on your cheeks. "would I really?"

"or just a straight up nose ring," chris encourages.

"right," nick laughs, "you need to go get a piercing for sure."

you smile. ego definitely boosted from all of this encouragement.

. . .

"can i-"

"no." matt huffs, cutting you off. you've asked him the same question over and over, 'where are we going?' 'can I know what we're doing?' and so on.

"well are we at least close?" you ask, looking out the window beside you. watching as the buildings and cars flash past.

matt hesitates, taking a left turn, "just like four more minutes."

you turn to the radio, turning the music down. trying to figure out why in the world matt randomly texted you that he has a surprise for you. but nothing crosses your mind.

"and. . . here we are!" matt says, lightly biting his lip in excitement.

you look out the windshield to find yourself parked in front of a piercing studio.

"matt, holy shit-"

"you were talking about how you wanted a piercing last night and so I figured might as well." he smiles at you, pulling the keys out of the ignition.

suddenly you felt small. nervous butterflies erupting in your stomach. "I dont know if I can do this, matt." you awkwardly chuckle.

"sure you can," he assures, leaning over to meet your eyes. "this is wear nick gets his piercings, it's safe, and they're all kind. I promise."

you look at him with an untrusting look in your eye. still not sure about going through with this.

matt reaches out and grabs your hand, "I can hold your hand while they do it." he says, knitting his brows with an assuring smile.

looking down to you hand intertwined with his, your breath hitches. "well- I can't aff-"

"my treat." he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand, "i wouldn't have drove you all the way out here just to make you pay."

"matt-"

"y/n." he giggles. "quit stalling, kid."

releasing a shaky breath, you nod. "okay." you mumble, nodding your head again before getting out of the van.

matt gets out and meets you at the door. then asking if your ready and opening the door. he lets you walk in first, and then following you in. "appointment for sturniolo." he says, walking up to the front desk.

the lady at the front nods, leading the two of you to a room. "which one of you is it today?" she asks, pulling two gloves on over her hands.

matt gestures to you before sitting down in the chair next to you, "she is."

"awesome," the lady smiles. "you can sit here. and what are you getting?"

"oh- uhm a helix?" you say.

she nods before spinning slightly in her chair to set everything up.

you meet matt's eyes, your face clearly washed with panic.

"you're alright," he whispers soothingly. he picks up your hand you holds it in both of his. gently rubbing your knuckles. "you'll be fine and you'll come out of it looking badass." he laughs lightly.

amusedly rolling your eyes, you smile, "sure."

"okay, you ready?" the lady asks, turning around with her things.

you look at matt and he smiles, silently assuring you again. "yeah, I am." you nervously laugh, squeezing matt's hand tightly.

shutting your eyes, you try focusing on the unintentional rhythm of the way matts thumb slides across your skin. doing your best to completely ignore the quick sting in your ear.

"all done." the lady says.

you open your eyes, looking around confused. "I didn't even notice."

matt smiles, "see, I told you it would be okay."

"thank you, matt."

"of course," he says, his cheeks going a light pink at your praise.

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 8)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2838

warnings/notes: n/a

Chapter 8: A Secret to Safeguard

The first rays of dawn filtered through the dense canopy. The golden light flickered across Bonnie’s serene face, illuminating her features with a soft glow that made the horrors of the preceding night seem like distant nightmares. As Bonnie began to stir, her eyelids fluttered like delicate butterfly wings, confusion and fear momentarily clouding her gaze as she adjusted to the unfamiliar surroundings. The rustic cabin was filled with the scent of pine and earth, a stark contrast to the harsh metallic tang of blood and chaos that had marked their last location.

“Austin?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, fragile and uncertain in the quiet morning air.

He knelt beside the bed, his large hand taking hers, squeezing it gently. “Bonnie.”

Her eyes searched his face, desperate for reassurance. “What happened? I remember… pain…” Her voice broke as flashes of memory returned—sharp and disorienting.

Austin’s heart clenched at her confusion and fear, his resolve hardening. He couldn’t shield her from the truth forever. “You… transformed last night, Bonnie. For the first time. And then there was an incident.” Austin’s voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “Victor found us. He threatened to tell the whole pack about you. It... it got violent. You didn’t know what you were doing. You defended me—it was instinctual.”

Bonnie's breath hitched, her hand trembling within his grasp. "Did I... did I kill him?" Her voice was barely audible, a fearful whisper that echoed in the sparse cabin. The weight of her potential actions bore down on her, threatening to suffocate her newfound resolve.

Austin’s jaw tightened as he nodded slowly, confirming her fears. "It was self-defense, Bonnie. Victor was power-hungry and reckless. He would have hurt many, including you." His throat felt tight as he watched the horror unfold across Bonnie's features, her pale skin losing even more color.

She withdrew slightly, pulling her hand free from his. "I'm a monster," she murmured, curling into herself on the bed like a wounded animal seeking refuge from its own nature.

"No," Austin said firmly, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. "You are not a monster. You are strong, Bonnie. Stronger than you know." His voice softened as he added, "This world... It’s cruel and unforgiving, but you’re not alone in this."

Bonnie looked up at him then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How can I ever live with myself knowing what I've done?"

Austin leaned closer, his presence a sturdy reassurance. "You learn, you grow, and you survive," he said solemnly. "This is our reality, and while it’s brutal, it doesn’t define who we are. We define ourselves by how we handle these situations."

Bonnie bit her lip, considering his words through the fog of her turmoil. The moonlight filtered through the cabin window, casting silver streaks across the wooden floor and reflecting off Austin's intense eyes, making them appear almost ethereal. "I want to believe that," she finally whispered.

Austin moved closer, his hand steady on her back, grounding. "And you will," he acknowledged, his voice gritty with shared pain. "You need to hold on to the fact that you did what you had to do to protect yourself—and me."

There was a long silence filled only by the wind rustling against the cabin walls before Bonnie spoke again. "What about the pack? What if they find out?"

"That’s where I come in," Austin replied firmly, his protective instincts surging to the surface. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

His words were meant to comfort, but the gravity of their situation hung between them like thick smoke. Bonnie nodded slowly, absorbing his promise with a mixture of fear and relief.

The morning progressed, each minute stretching long and taut as Bonnie gradually adjusted to the light, both literal and metaphorical, of her new reality. Austin, meanwhile, was lost in thought, strategizing their next move. The gang would surely be stirring, questions would be asked, and Jerry’s suspicious nature would not make things any easier.

“I need to go back,” Austin said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for discussion. He stood up, pacing the small cabin with restless energy that seemed too expansive for the confined space. “I have to make sure the story about Victor is handled right. Can’t let rumors spread or they’ll come hunting.”

Bonnie’s heart sank at the thought of being left alone, but she understood the necessity of his departure. “Will they believe you?” Her voice sounded small in the vast wilderness that surrounded them.

“They’ll have to.” Austin’s response was gruff as he stopped his pacing to look down at her. “Jerry might push back, but Bear will stand by me. He knows what’s at stake.”

The mention of Bear brought a slight sense of relief. Robert "Bear" Johnson had always been a calming force within the turbulent dynamics of the gang.

“What should I do while you’re gone?” Bonnie asked, trying to mask her anxiety with a semblance of composure.

"Stay here, keep low, and don't open the door for anyone but me," Austin instructed, his voice firm yet coated with concern. He knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "I'll be back as soon as I can. If anything happens, if you feel threatened in any way, there’s a revolver under the floorboards by the bed. Use it only if you must."

Bonnie nodded solemnly, the weight of his directive cementing itself within her. The responsibility of self-defense was a chilling reminder of her new reality. "Okay," she whispered, trying to steady her trembling voice.

Austin's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, his gaze intense and probing. He cupped her face in his hands pulling her into a tender kiss. As their lips parted, Austin's gaze hardened once again with the reminder of the dangers that lay ahead. "Remember, trust no one," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken worries. He stood, adjusting the leather jacket that seemed to armor him against more than just the elements.

Outside, the wind had picked up, howling like the distant cousins of his kind, weaving through the dense trees that shrouded the cabin. He paused at the doorway, hand on the frame, and looked back at Bonnie. This glimpse of vulnerability was rare and fleeting but spoke volumes of his inner turmoil.

"I love you," he said simply, the words stark against the howling wind, before turning and stepping into the night.

Bonnie watched him disappear into the shadows, her heart aching with a mixture of fear and love. Left alone in the eerie stillness of their temporary sanctuary, she felt each creak and moan of the settling cabin amplify her anxiety. She moved to the window, peering out into the woods where shapes seemed to move with sinister fluidity between trees. Drawing the curtains quickly, she backed away from the window, suddenly aware of just how exposed they had been.

Meanwhile, Austin rode through the night, his sleek black motorcycle purring beneath him as it devoured the winding roads. The roar of the engine cut sharply through the stillness, echoing off the trees and sending shivers down his spine. His mind was in turmoil, a jumble of thoughts and emotions that matched the chaotic twists and turns of the road. Fear for Bonnie's safety gnawed at him like a relentless beast, drowning out any sense of calm or clarity that usually came with riding. But tonight, even the open road could not provide an escape from the relentless storm raging within him.

As he approached their secluded headquarters, the low murmurs of conversation and the occasional clatter of tools greeted him. The air was thick with tension, despite the everyday scene of bikes being tuned and polished. The scent of oil and grease hung in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of coffee brewing in a nearby corner. The sound of metal against metal echoed off the walls, creating a symphony of mechanics at work.

Jerry emerged from the shadows, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim light of the flickering bulbs in the garage. His face, usually unreadable, carried a hint of unease tonight. His eyes swept over the gang members busily engaged with their bikes before settling on Austin.

"Austin," Jerry called out, his voice low and urgent as he approached. The clatter around them seemed to momentarily fade into the background as tension knotted the air.

Austin turned, his expression shifting to one of guarded concern. "What's up, Jerry?"

"It's Victor," Jerry said, glancing around before continuing. "He hasn't shown up since last night's hunt. No one has seen him or heard from him."

Austin's heart hammered in his chest as he steadied his gaze, careful not to let the whirlwind of emotions betray him. "Is that so?" he responded, his voice even and controlled, masking the cold dread that snaked through him.

Jerry nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah, and you know Victor. He ain’t one to vanish without a word. Folks are starting to ask questions." His tone was accusatory, a sharp edge cutting through the rumble of engine noise surrounding them.

Austin leaned back against his bike, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sure there's an explanation. Victor's probably laying low for some reason. You know how he gets—always up to something." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he knew maintaining composure was crucial.

Jerry watched him closely, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "Maybe," he conceded grudgingly.

"But we need to be sure. The pack can't afford to have loose ends." His stance was rigid, mirroring the severity of the situation. The garage seemed to shrink with the weight of his words, enclosing them in a silent pact of suspicion and duty.

Austin nodded, understanding the implications. "I'll handle it," he asserted firmly, hoping to dispel any further doubts Jerry might harbor. "Give me till tomorrow. I’ll sort something out." He knew he had to tread carefully, balancing the lie about Victor with the need to protect Bonnie and maintain his authority within the gang.

Jerry's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he grunted, seemingly appeased for the moment. "Alright," he said finally, stepping back into the shadowed periphery of the garage. "But keep me posted. We can’t let this slide."

As Jerry walked away, Austin felt the pressure mounting. He needed to weave his stories carefully now, more than ever. The gang’s stability, and more critically, Bonnie’s safety depended on it.

Turning away from Jerry’s retreating figure, Austin clenched his jaw, the muscles working under his skin as he calculated his next move. He knew that Jerry's eyes would be on him like a hawk on its prey, watching for any sign of faltering. Walking over to where Bear was adjusting the chain on his bike, Austin tapped his shoulder.

Bear looked up, his large eyes serious and wary beneath bushy eyebrows. "Everything alright, boss?" he asked, his voice low under the din of the garage.

Austin glanced around to make sure they were out of earshot from anyone else. "No, it’s not," he admitted in a hushed tone. "Jerry’s sniffing around about Victor. He hasn't shown up since last night, and you know how suspicions get around here."

Bear wiped his greasy hands on a rag, concern etching his face. "Victor's missing?" he paused, weighing his words carefully.

"Something like that, and it's turning into a problem." Austin said, his voice tense with urgency.

Bear nodded slowly, his expression grave. "What do you need from me?"

Austin looked around again, his piercing eyes scanning the dimly lit garage filled with the soft clatter of tools and the occasional rev of a motorcycle engine. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further. "I need you to come over tonight. Make sure no one follows you. It’s important that this stays between us for now."

Bear’s brow furrowed in concern, but he gave a firm nod of understanding. "I’ll be there," he assured Austin, clapping him on the shoulder with a heavy, reassuring hand.

As Bear walked away to gather his things, Austin felt a momentary relief before the weight of his responsibilities settled back onto his shoulders. He knew that involving Bear was risky, but the stakes were high, and he couldn't manage everything on his own anymore.

The garage was closing down for the night as Austin mounted his bike. The cool night air brushed against his face as he kick-started the engine, the rumble blending with a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

He rode back through the dark, winding roads towards the cabin where Bonnie waited. Each turn in the road was familiar, yet tonight they felt unusually menacing, as if each shadow held a threat. The weight of his secrets and the safety of his pack felt heavier than ever as he accelerated, the bike's headlights slicing through the darkness.

Stay tuned for part 9!! Click HERE to view!

Taglist: @droopycoquette

[luvistqrzzz]

August slipped away into a moment in time 'cause you were never mine

the summer i loved you — jake x f.reader wc — 3.3K

summary — where August was the month of new beginnings and first loves but mostly, heartbreak.

genre — friends to not lovers, second lead syndrome, angst, fluff, summer au, august inspired

warnings — sad ending, jake is a huge dee eye see kay (🤢🤢), profranity, heartbreak, not proofread

an — um guys haha def dont come at me for the ending 😊😊 but omg this had been in my drafts for a while now n im glad im able to release this in august ✌🏽😈 have fun reading pookies (1 fucking am rn imma die help)

ps — ☆ a visualizer cuz why tf am i extra ?!

August is a weird month. It seemed to rush by you like a dream and yet at the same time it felt like the last period of every Friday, not finishing fast enough. You'd prefer the former.

August reminded you of memories— pretty but mostly ugly ones or maybe when the hurt in your heart ran so deep, even the happy memories turned ugly, didn't they?

It was not a month you enjoyed, you didn't like summers, you didn't like feeling like new beginnings and first love.

August reminded you of it all... It reminded you of Jake.

It was 1st of August when you realized what those weird feelings were.

‘Y/N!’ You opened the door to the sound of your name, only to be met with a tired and almost teary eyed Jake. He looked up at you, mustering a small smile as you stood before him your mouth agape. 

‘A-are you okay?!’ you asked, pulling him into your house.

‘Um. Not… really’, your friend replied, scratching his neck nervously. ‘It’s just… she kinda broke up with me.’

She. he didn’t even need to mention her name and yet you let the word pierce your heart, a little. Kang Eunji. Jake’s girlfriend, well, ex girlfriend. 

It was her, always her. It wasn’t unusual for you to hear that they both had a fight but you never thought they'd break up. ‘What? Are you being for real?!’ You were shocked to say the least. Jake and Eunji were what people deemed to be the “power couple” at school. They wouldn’t break up, or could they?

He nodded and sat on the couch, ‘We were fighting over one of those petty matters again, she was angry why I was so busy. It was about soccer practice of course! And when I kind of lost it, she said we were over.’ His voice caught in his throat before he let out a small sob.

Your heart sank as you patted his back and pulled him close into an embrace, ‘Ssh, it’s okay’, you ran small circles on his, ignoring the butterflies set free in your stomach at the close contact. 

You could never understand what went on in their relationship. This may have been the first time they broke up but it surely wasn’t the first time Jake came to your house on the verge of tears.

You hated seeing him this way, like a broken record. 

‘What will I do now, Y/N?’ ‘You just broke up, it’s not the end of the world. Plus, you have the entire summer before you, right? We’ll figure a way out,’ You broke the hug, looking straight into his eyes, trying to reassure him.

But they all meant nothing. Getting reassured of a broken heart didn’t mend the damage, you knew better than him. Jake nodded nonetheless, wiping away the stray tears, ‘Goodness, I feel so dumb for just crying like this.’ ‘don’t be. You are allowed to feel your emotions.’

He gave a small smile in your direction and your heart skipped a beat.

‘So’, you turned towards the television, searching for a distraction. ‘You wanna binge watch something? Or maybe some Doraemon?’

Jake grinned, ‘I’d love that! What would I do without you, Y/N?’

You let out an almost sad chuckle, ‘I am the coolest best friend ain’t I?’ The word best friend left a bad taste in your mouth.

4th August was when Jake realized the bookstore was his safe place.

Clink! The door to the bookstore opened with a small chime. You looked up from your position at the counter only to find Jake walk into the shop. 

He smiled before taking a seat beside you, much to your surprise. It wasn't unusual for him to drop by the store. But mostly he came for borrowing a book or having a quick chat with you. 

But never like this.

'So, how are you doing?' You asked, turning towards where he sat, fidgeting with a pen. It was a slow lazy afternoon with barely any customers.

'Oh, uh, I'm fine. At least I'm trying to be. We had so many things planned and like, it feels weird. We were good for each other…' he kept on rambling about his latest break up.

You could feel your heart clench a litte. You understood why Jake was doing so but it didn't help. It didn't help that there were two broken hearts in the same room. It was always you and the second lead syndrome against the world.

Sometimes you really wondered what you had done to be stuck in the loophole of falling for a friend.

You had been friends with Jake since middle school, always finding yourself blush whenever he was around. 

The first time you tried confessing to him during Valentine's Day in freshman year, your hand baked cake (which you had prepared for hours) got destroyed. You kind of gave up on him, treating him as a friend.

Well, that was until Eunji came along last year. Seeing Jake with her brought about a fresh wave of emotions you think your heart had forgotten.

It hadn't. 

The bookstore was Jake's hideaway from the world. He loved everything about it. Loved how calming it was and the people who came in always greeted him with a smile. He was a quaint place, maybe mysterious in a sense that Jake didn't want to uncover the secrets it hid.

He liked how you let him sit there for the entirety of your shift. But mostly he loved the conversations.

Throughout the summer, Jake couldn't remember the number of times he found you sitting with him, flipping through some book as you both chatted away, be it in the lazy afternoon or under the evening sky, where the buzz of the grasshopper was the only thing he could hear. They felt weirdly intimate, like the secrets he used to keep as a kid. He almost wanted to gatekeep them. 

'Sorry do I bore you here?' You asked one day. It was a question bothering you for a while.

Jake frowned, 'What? No. Of course not, Y/N. You could never bore me.' But you were unconvinced, 'No, like, who spends their summer sitting in a small little barely functioning bookstore except maybe be. You must have a lot of plans, right?'

'I wouldn't lie. I haven't ever spent such a quiet summer but turns out, I like a lot. Too much for my own sake. The bookstore isn't boring. Rather, it gives me a sense of escape from reality.' He gave you a reassuring smile.

'Also', Jake added as a second thought. 'You aren't boring Y/N. You just make it all loads better.'

Your phone went off with a sharp ring. Your alarm wasn’t set to ring today. Who could it be? You groaned as you sleepily grabbed it from the nightstand. Without even checking the name, you picked up the call, ‘Hello? Who?’ ‘It’s me Jake, you dummy!’ His excited voice came from the other side.

You yawned, ‘What do you want?’ you checked the time, ‘It’s literal fucking half past four.’ ‘More reason to wake up, right?!’

‘Shut up, I’m hanging up and-’ ‘No no! I really did plan a surprise. Get ready, please, just for today. Please’, he begged from the other side.

Now, you were definitely wide awake, upon hearing his voice. He had planned what…? ‘Okay but the surprise better be good.’ ‘Also! Keep your bicycle ready.’

‘There you are!’ Jake greeted you with a wide smile as you grumbled and walked down the road with your bike where he stood. ‘You don’t get to smile like that after pulling me up from sleep’, you muttered angrily.

But really who were you to complain? It was Jake and you couldn’t deny the fact that you were genuinely excited for what was coming. It was always an adventure when it came to him.

‘You won’t be disappointed, trust me’, he said, boarding his bike and motioning for you to do the same. 

You breathed out a calming sigh, looking ahead at the empty road. Thanks to summer, the sun was already somewhere there on the horizon, spreading a fuzzy glow around you. Everything looked simpler, softer. In the light of the dawn, your thoughts felt less complicated, you almost felt it would be easy to sort out your feelings. Would it?

You turned to look at Jake, cycling in peace, a small grin on his face, ‘Told you! I sometimes go out on early morning rides, especially if I have a lot on my mind.’

‘So, why are you taking me then?’ ‘I don’t know. I just have a feeling you’ll like this place’, he shrugged. ‘Plus, I like spending time with you’, Jake added as an afterthought.’

A blush crept into your cheeks at his words. Stop over thinking you scolded yourself. But you couldn’t help the hope blossom in you. False hope. 

‘Here we are’, Jake spread his arms wide, showing you the view. After half an hour of cycling through empty streets and quiet places, you found yourself on a small hill. It was pretty abandoned, the only sounds that reached your ears were the chirping of birds and the whistling of trees in the cool summer morning.

In front of you lay your town and the forests beyond it. Those familiar buildings looked all new when you saw them from top of a hill. It radiated calmth… and comfort.

Or was the latter because of the person beside you? 

‘Thanks’, you spoke in a soft whisper but then you felt a hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your heart stopped as you turned towards Jake looking at you with a fond smile and slowly pulled you closer, resting his head on your shoulder. 

You couldn't process what he was doing. Was it all intentional? No, it was the usual playful Jake you knew, right? But the usual playful Jake wasn't like this. He had pulled you into a hug several times but never like this.

Never so tender in his actions that it made you think otherwise.

'I like the view so much. I hope you do too. It's just… very special, I had never shown it to Eunji either. People ruin things', he sighed, looking ahead. 

You scoffed as an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, 'So, I'm not a person?' 'No, you're Y/N. It's an entire special thing to be in itself.'

You didn't know what it meant anymore. The secret smiles, the small actions. You weren't oblivious, you saw it all but your face masked it behind the friendship.

But was it even friendship? You hoped it wasn't. You hoped you both had crossed the line of being "just friends".

It was the 20th of August when Jake liked mint chocolate ice cream. 

He touched his cheek as a familiar warmth flooded in at the sight of you. What was happening to him? Ever since the day on the hill, he had been feeling weird. Be it when he visited the bookstore or when you both hung out during the day (or night).

The way your laugh sounded in his ears, when you smiled, he noticed the way his heart skipped a beat. But he loved the most when through the afternoons you talked. Just talk, nothing and everything.

Jake had never felt so connected to anyone. You both had always been friends but seeing a friends standing before him, two ice creams in hand shouldn't make Jake blush.

But it did.

'Hey Mr.Zoned out!' You snapped your fingers before him, pulling him away from his thoughts. You handed him his ice cream while joining him on the curb. 

He made a disgusted face at the cone you were holding, 'Ugh. Mint chocolate.' You slapped his shoulder playfully, 'Yah! You are a person with zero taste.' 

'Oh really? Lemme try it then', Jake replied, challenging you. He scooped a bit with the plastic spoon before closing his eyes and tasting it. 

'Ew', he gagged. 'This tastes like fucking toothpaste', he wiped his mouth in disgust.

'Shut up, no need to be so over dramatic about it all', you chuckled and rolled your eyes. 

Jake looked at you as you continued eating and looking at the street in front. It was almost 5 in the evening, the kids were out playing but their shouts were only distant noise because all he could hear was your voice. All he could see was you. You weren't bright like the background but in his eyes, you were glowing. The sun falling on your face, as if highlighting only you in his eyes.

Almost as if on instinct, his hand slowly reached out to your free one, his fingers finding yours and intertwining them together.

You stopped, your heart beating way too fast, you could almost feel the redness of your cheeks.

What was happening? What was Jake doing? Why was he doing this? 

It felt wrong, you knew it. Your intuition could tell it. This was something you had waited forever to happen, but you knew this couldn't be.

Let go of his hand, Y/N. Let go let go let go let go… don't let go.

You didn't, too foolish and in love to walk away. And maybe that was the first mistake you had made.

The first rain of August came on the 25th.

Why was rain often associated with sadness? No, rain didn't mean sadness.

Because on that one day of August, you stood outside the bookstore looking at the dark clouds, the rain gave you hope.

You sighed, no wonder your mother kept on insisting you to take an umbrella. Now, there you were, standing in front of the closed shop.

But a bright yellow thing caught your eye, standing out in the dull gray background. You squinted your eyes as the figure came closer.

Jake.

Your stomach jumped. Had he come for you? 

He ran through the rain, his bright smile evident as you stared at him in wonder.

'What?' He asked. You shook your head, 'You…?' 'I came for you. You always forget your umbrella.' He completed the sentence for you.

Your mouth formed an "O" but a soft smile spread across your lips. 

'Here', he handed you the spare umbrella in hand and took hold of your wrist, pulling you into the rain.

You shrieked, 'At least let me open mine first.' He laughed at your sight, moving closer and holding his umbrella over you.

You noticed every single thing, the things you had noticed a hundred times before. But mostly you noticed his little actions.

The ones that made you fall for him all over again.

'Fuck, if I catch a cold, it'll be your fault, Sim Jake', you threatened the boy standing in front of your porch, grinning. You both had recklessly ran in the rain as a result the umbrellas had been pretty useless… but it was fun.

'Don't worry', he stepped forward, a certain fondness flickering in his eyes. 'I'll be there to bring you the meds.' 

It happened in a fraction of a second, swiftly, Jake bent down and gave a sudden kiss on your cheek. It was soft as a feather, almost like it didn't happen.

But you felt it. You almost felt dizzy, her cheeks heating you. You brought your hands to where he had just kissed you. It had happened, hadn't it?

But before you could say anything, Jake turned around, his head hung low in embarrassment but his stomach full of butterflies and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Had he meant it?

As Jake walked his way back home, his head filled with thoughts of you, a sudden buzz of his phone. He took it out, expecting a text from you.

But no… It was someone else.

His heart dropped. A contact that hadn't been there since 1st of August.

Eunji.

"jake, im so sorry."

But what followed after that day was something you had always feared. 

He ignored you. Every text, every call, no reply. Did he just get awkward? But even an awkward Jake wouldn't be this rude. Or was he angry with you? You didn't even do anything.

The next time you saw Jake, three days later, was when you went on a grocery run.

You could spot him anywhere. 'Jake! Wait', you called out to him. He didn't stop. 'Omg, stop being a shit head would you?! Stop fucking ignoring me!' You huffed, annoyed. 

That's when you saw his figure slowly turn towards you. 'Sorry', he muttered. You ran a hand through your hair. sorry? That's all he had to say? 

'Look, if it's about that day then forget it. You-you never kissed me.' 'What? Of course not, it isn't about that day', he replied. 

You looked at him confusedly, 'Huh? Then why, Jake? I had tried calling and texting you so many times but you couldn't bother to reply to me.'Your voice slowly rose.

'I was busy catching up with Eunji okay?!' his tone matching yours.

There came that name. Her name. Did you hear it correctly? What was she doing in this conversation?

'E-eunji…?' you looked at him, at loss of words. 'I thought yo-you were over her?' 

He gave you a look of disbelief, 'No. That day she sent me a text and I realised… I wasn't.'

Why did the crack in your heart deepen? Why was it always you who got hurt? 

And you couldn't help but ask, knowing the answer would make you feel worse, 'What about us then, Jake?' 

'Us? Y/N what are you talking about? We are friends, we always have been. There is no us.' 

There, the final blow. 'Why did you make me feel so special then? All for nothing? You know how much I like you, so much that everytime we spent time together this summer, I got my hopes up. I was so foolish, because of you Sim fucking Jaeyun. And that day you kissed me, I thought, finally you'll realize but no. It's always her, isnt it?', you didn't scream but the crack in your voice said it all.

And Jake remained silent through it all. because he knew he deserved 'So, this summer meant nothing to you?' You sniffed, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

'Nothing.' But you missed the flicker in his eyes. The flicker that said otherwise.

That it wasn't nothing, it was his eveything.

August 31st was when you lost it finally.

‘It was just a summer thing’, the words rang in your ear, loud and clear. They drowned the voices of all the chatter of classmates. ‘y/n? y/n? Are you okay?’ Lily asked beside you, furrowing her eyebrows in worry.

But you couldn’t respond to her, at that very moment, you thought you couldn’t do pretty much anything except look. Or rather stare at the sight unfolding before you. Before you knew it, the plastic cup fell from your hands, the beer splashing all over the floor and getting the attention of the people in the room, the attention of them. 

In the haze, you met your eyes with his, the soft brown ones that you had fallen in love with, the one which enveloped you in warmth. But now they felt like they were hurting you, the annoyance in them.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you turned around. The room suddenly felt too small, the stares of the people felt accusing. You let go of Lily’s hand that gripped your wrist and ran in the opposite direction.

Did you hear footsteps behind you? Were they Jake’s? You hated to admit it but you wished they were. You wished that he was the one following you, the one who'd hold you back.

For once, prove it to you that you weren’t the second lead.

But he wasn’t there.

You found yourself rushing to the porch, the sounds fading out. But you could hear the blood pumping in your ears, the sound of your shallow breath that you had been holding for so long.

He wasn’t there. What did you even expect?

You were a summer thing for him… but he was your summer love.

permanent taglist open- send an ask- @rikizm @str0l0gy @yenqa @heetoldme @crxzs @s00buwu @nhularin

nets- @en-web @k-films @enhanet @hyfenet

[ken-dom]

Thank You

Lars Lindstrom x gn!reader

Summary: Lars has wondered about sex. And he's been growing comfortable with your touch. So it was only a matter of time...

Warnings/content: nsfw, fluffy smut, reader rides Lars, loss of virginity (Lars), crying, comfort

When you sunk down onto him, his whole world came to a shuddering stop, but not in the way either of you had anticipated.

It was warm. It was soft. It was kind of wet? It didn’t cause pain… it felt tingly and sort of like he wanted to explode but in equal measures, relief.

He had no words to truly describe it, and even if he had, his mind had been taken over in a haze of pleasure he’d never felt anything like before.

‘You doing ok?’ you smiled down at him, hips still as you waited for him to adjust to these new sensations.

He had the urge to move his hips, but he was too scared. Too worried he’d get it wrong and ruin everything, or that it wouldn’t feel good.

Usually when he had that overwhelmed fear bubbling up, he would run. But he was frozen in place. That is, aside from his fingertips grasping desperately at the sheets beneath him, in an attempt to stay grounded.

‘Lars?’

He looked up into your eyes and nodded in answer to your earlier question.

‘I’m going to move now, alright? If it’s too much we can stop.’

He nodded quickly, silently pleading with you.

Watching his face carefully, you rolled your hips slowly, just once.

You were glad you were in the privacy of Lars’s garage because the noise he made was deafening as his back arched, his eyes snapped shut and his jaw dropped.

His chest heaved as you stilled above him again. His vision had blurred and he'd almost seen stars, but it gradually dissipated back to just you above him, angelic.

‘Did it feel good? It didn't hurt?’

He shook his head, a firm no. ‘Good,’ he whimpered, ‘really good.’

‘Alright, I’ll go a little faster this time… and, Lars?’

‘Mmh?’

‘You feel incredible inside me.’

He sobbed then, a hand coming up to hide his eyes while his cheeks flushed hot at your praise.

You began to rock your hips in a steady rhythm, not too fast yet, but without pause.

Something was already simmering in his gut, building like a coiled spring tightening, but he trusted you to see him through it. He dropped his arm above his head so he could see you.

He looked beautiful like that, laid out for you in just his undershirt, finally relaxing.

You moaned once and within seconds he was writhing beneath you, crying out a string of his own desperate moans and grabbing a fistful of the pillow he was laid on.

He really did feel incredible; the way he stretched and filled you as you rode him had you trembling above him. Each sound he made sent heat rushing to your core. The pleasure contorting his face caused butterflies to soar in your stomach, which tightened each time his thick length massaged that sensitive spot within you.

‘Let go, Lars,’ you whispered, and as your own climax hit, his hands found yours and he emptied himself inside you with a strangled roar, his torso lifting off the bed with the unexpected force of his release.

You wrapped your arms around him and carefully laid him back down as he tried to catch his breath.

His face was wet with tears that just kept coming, and as you climbed off him, he curled into a ball beside you, facing away.

You slid an arm over his ribs to hold him and felt him trembling.

‘Are you alright? Did it hurt when you… you know-’

He shook his head into the pillow.

You kissed his hair and nudged at his shoulder, encouraging him to face you.

He turned, settling into your embrace with his face only inches from yours. Even though you'd just shared the most intimate act he could imagine, he appreciated that you didn't wipe the tears from his face. He didn't want to acknowledge them right now. He wanted you to feel impressed with him.

‘I… I liked it,’ he breathed, mildly horrified, as though he shouldn't enjoy such a thing. He felt kind of dirty, but he’d never felt more alive. Guilty, but more relaxed than he could remember ever feeling and... kind of sleepy?

Not so long ago, he’d asked Gus if it was sex that would make him feel like a man, and whilst he valued all the other things Gus had tried to explain to him, sex had certainly made him feel different.

‘I liked it too,' you smiled, and he beamed at you from under that handsome little moustache.

‘Thank you,’ he sighed dreamily, as he fell asleep in your arms, safe and warm and sated.

[lendeah]

Daggers and flutes

Happy New Year! I decided to release this a bit earlier than expected as a New Year's present. Also! The TAV in this fic is called Lilianna because I wanted to change my narration for once and it felt more fitting. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: AstarionxOFC!Bard

Summary: In which Astarion and bard Tav agree to a deal: Astarion teaches Tav dagger skills, and in return, Tav is supposed to teach Astarion how to play the flute. The thing is, Tav is terrible with weapons, so things don't go as expected.

Tags: Smut. A bit of fluff if you squint.

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus (fem receiving), squirting, choking, kind of dom-sub dynamic? Just pure filth.

The idea had been hers, naturally. Astarion had cautioned her against coming within 50 meters of any weapon after her near-fatal axe incident with Shadowheart. But it wasn't just that – she had also nearly blinded Lae'zel with an ill-advised attempt at archery, and may have even caused Gale a concussion during his staff training session with her.

Okay, she was terrible with weapons. And any kind of fighting, for that matter; it was not her forte.

But when she had seen Astarion in the heat of battle, his agile and toned body moving swiftly and gracefully like a dancer's, every muscle tense and defined under his glistening skin, his hands wielding a dagger with expert precision and ease, an idea had planted in her mind. And not just the dirty kind.

A few nights later, as they camped near the looming Crèche, she saw her opportunity and seized it. Without hesitation, she entered his tent, unannounced.

"Teach me how to use daggers" she blurts out, her voice echoing in the small space. The leather straps of her boots creak as she shifts her weight, and the faint scent of pine and firewood fills the air.

Astarion is engrossed in one of his books, his shirt carelessly unbuttoned to reveal a sliver of pale skin. Strands of white hair fall over his eyes, obscuring them from view. He jumps, startled by her sudden appearance.

"Gods, Lelianna, have you got no sense of privacy?"

But Lelianna only shrugged, her wide smile never faltering. "I have already seen you naked quite a lot," she said nonchalantly, "there is no more privacy needed between us."

He closes his book and sets it aside, standing up from his bedroll to face her fully. A twinkle of amusement flickers in Astarion's eyes as he crosses his arms, leaning against the tent's frame. His lips curl into a mischievous smirk that sends a cascade of butterflies dancing in Lelianna's stomach. "Well, the thought of you holding a dagger does sound quite thrilling, my dear. But are you sure you're up for it? You do have a tendency to turn any weapon into a hazard."

She playfully rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on! I've seen you in action. You make it look so effortless and graceful. I bet I could do the same with some guidance from the great Astarion."

"You know flattery is the way to my heart, little bard" He leans in closer, "But what will you do in exchange? Surely you know that nothing comes for free in this world." A mischievous glint sparked in his eye as he continued, "even less so when my life is on the line from, you know, being near you wielding a weapon".

Lelianna giggled, swatting his arm lightly with the back of her hand. "Oh, you'll be perfectly safe. I won’t use you as my practice dummy, promise," she said with an innocent blink of her eyes. "As for the payment... maybe I could let you drink from me tonight?" Astarion raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms "I drink from you almost every night, my dear. You are going to have to raise your offer." She pouts, lips pursed in frustration as she considers her options. There is not a lot she can offer. She could compose him a song, but he absolutely hates those and would end up using his daggers on her instead if she did. Her mind races with possibilities before a brilliant idea takes hold. "How about I teach you how to use the flute? I remember you said you would like to give it a try back in the groto"

Astarion scoffed, his usual smirk quickly replaced with a look of utter disbelief. "Me? Play the flute?" He began to laugh, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the tent. "Oh, little bard, you certainly know how to make a vampire chuckle."

Despite his mockery, Lelianna stands her ground, hands on hips in a defiant pose. "I'm being serious! You'd be great at it. And besides," she leans in closer to him now, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she murmurs into his ear, "I hear it's quite the hit with the ladies." She could already imagine Astarion, handsome as ever, blowing into a flute with an alluring expression on his face as women swooned around him.

The smile fades from Astarion's face as he considers her words, running a hand through his stark white hair thoughtfully. "Hmm... that is... an interesting proposition," he muses aloud.

"I knew you'd come around," Lelianna beams proudly.

The corners of his lips quirk upwards into a small smirk. "I see you have a brain beneath all of that messy hair, perhaps I can use that as well." he adds, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"Thank y- wait what did you say about my hair?"Lelianna's eyes widened with mock offense, her hands automatically going up to her unruly hair. "Hey now, my hair is not messy! It's...cascading chaos, a masterpiece of untamed locks! It's..."

He interrupts her with an annoyed swat of his arm.

"Fine, fine! I'll teach you if you shut up, gods"

She smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"But I will take the flute lessons AND I will drink from you tonight, of course. I can't resist indulging in your company" he retorted, trying to suppress the grin and failing miserably.

When she exits the tent, she can already imagine herself, wielding a dagger with as much grace and skill as Astarion. She spins lightly on her heels, her heart swelling with hope and excitement. Everyone would see her as cool and capable, finally recognizing her talents beyond just singing, playing the flute, and being an excellent drinking companion.

The next morning, as Lelianna approaches the designated meeting spot in the distant forest clearing, she can't help but notice the objects that Astarion has strategically placed around. There is a small wooden dummy with various markings, indicating where one should strike with a dagger. Next to it, several throwing knives are laid out neatly on a log, glinting in the morning sunlight. Astarion stands nearby, his posture relaxed yet alert. The morning light caught the hard planes of his face, emphasizing his sharp cheekbones and the intensity in his piercing gaze. He exuded a quiet confidence that is both alluring and intimidating. But she can't help but feel a flutter in her stomach at the sight of lean body, toned muscles visible even under his loose-fitting shirt.

"What's all this?" she asks, distracting herself from her filthy thoughts and gesturing towards the objects.

Astarion grins mischievously at her arrival, his gaze fixed on the makeshift target he had set up. "Ah, my dear Lelianna, I thought we could make our dagger training a bit more interesting," he replies, sauntering towards her with a certain swagger in his step, stepping forward to pick up one of the throwing knives. His movements are fluid and effortless as he twirls it expertly between his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, he sends the knife soaring through the air, hitting the wooden dummy dead center. Wow.

"Now, my dear," he says, handing her a dagger "It's your turn"

She takes it from his hand, inspecting it. The dagger is sleek and sharp, the blade glinting in the sun. Its handle is adorned with intricate carvings, giving it an almost regal appearance. The dagger is surprisingly light, yet its edge is sharp and dangerous.

She scoffs "Easy peasy." But as she throws it, her aim is way off and the dagger lands nowhere near the wooden dummy. She pouts, feeling embarrassed by her poor attempt.

"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" Astarion chuckles lightly at her reaction. "Don't worry my dear," he says reassuringly as he retrieves the dagger for her. "It takes practice and precision."

Lelianna can feel Astarion's warm breath on her neck as he leans in to correct her stance, teaching her how to position her body for a better throw. She gulps nervously at the proximity of his body. His cold fingers gently and confidently guide her arm, sending a shiver down her spine. Her own hand trembles slightly as she holds the dagger, feeling the weight and sharpness of the blade beneath her fingers.

"Ahem, I think I got it" she quips, nervously.

Astarion steps back, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches Lelianna take aim once more. She takes a deep breath, focusing her gaze on the wooden dummy. With a flick of her wrist, she releases the dagger, and it lands in a nearby bush. Astarion snickers lightly beside her, and she gives him a dirty look.

"Just laugh it up, Mr. Tall, Pale, and Annoying," she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Astarion only laughs harder, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I must say, your aim is...interesting."

"Alright!" Lelianna declares, swiping another dagger from his grasp with a huff. "Enough with the teasing already. I'm going to get this right even if it kills me!"

And she tries, for like, 107 times. She really tries. In fact, she is panting and sweaty by the time she fails misserably for the umpteenth time.

At this point Astarion is not even hiding his amusement. His laughter fills the clearing, his mirth evident in the sparkle of his eyes. "My dear Lelianna, I must say, your persistence is truly commendable," he says, wiping away a tear that had formed from his laughter. "But perhaps, just maybe, throwing knives is not your calling. You know, some people are simply better suited for other talents."

Lelianna huffs indignantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Maybe if I imagine your ugly face on the dummy I won't actually miss," she declares, her voice filled with determination.

He laughs and smiles indulgently at her determination. "You know, that actually is a good strategy. Go, try it. I'll watch." he leans up against a rock and waits for her to take her shot.

She grits her teeth, narrowing her gaze on the object in front of her. She focuses intensely on each step she was given: positioning her hand, gripping tightly, and then making the wrist movement. With a loud and determined grunt, Lelianna gathers every bit of concentration and strength she has left and throws the dagger with all her might. To everyone's surprise, especially her own, the blade lodged itself into the dummy's wooden heart.

A triumphant smile lights up Lelianna's face as she turns to look at Astarion.

"Ha! I did it!"

Seeing her thrilled reaction, Astarion bursts into hearty laughter, clapping his hands in aknowledgement. His eyes are shining slightly when they meet hers. He stands up from the rock, sauntering towards the dummy to retrieve the lodged dagger.

"Well, I'll be damned," he says brightly, removing the blade with an easy pull. "Who knew that imagining my so-called 'ugly face' is all it took for you to land a good hit?"

He turns to her then, the sun glinting off his white hair and turning it to silver, and with a sly grin adds "One in a hundred is not a bad start, especially for a small and weak bard."

She gasps, taking a hand to her chest in offension. With a fiery intensity burning in her gaze, she points a finger at him, her voice laced with defiance. "I'm not weak!"

He smirks devilishly "You are, as a matter of fact" he laughs "I reckon even a wooly sheep would stand more of a chance in a brawl than you."

Her rage grows exponentially. Calling her weak? maybe. But comparing her to a damn sheep, of all things? No way. Lelianna's eyes narrow, her fists clenching at her sides. She takes a step towards Astarion, her voice filled with defiance.

"Oh, is that so?" she snaps, her eyes ablaze with indignation. "Well, let's see how well you fare against this 'woolly sheep' in a brawl then, bloodsucker!" she declares before thinking better of it.

Astarion smirks at her challenge, his eyes glinting with amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you sure about that, my dear? I wouldn't want to hurt your fragile ego." With a confidence that surprises even herself, Lelianna moves closer to Astarion until they are mere inches apart. As they stand face to face, Lelianna can see the subtle upturn of Astarion's lips and the playful glint in his eyes. She raises her chin defiantly, staring him down with unwavering determination.

"I may not have your strength or your agility," she begins, her voice steady as she meets Astarion's gaze, "but I have wit, creativity, and a few tricks up my sleeve. And you know what they say, Astarion, brains can be just as powerful as brawn." she states firmly, her voice laced with undeniable purpose.

And then he is laughing again - boisterous and loud. "Yeah, and you have neither" he says once his laughter has subsided enough for him to speak.

Lelianna scowls but doesn't back down, her heart beating loudly in her chest. She swipes the dagger from Astarion's hands and squares her shoulders, eyeing him fiercely. "Just you watch," she rejoins. "I'll have you running scared before dawn."

Astarion raises an eyebrow cockily at her response, a slow smirk curling up his lips "And what do you propose? That we settle this with a dagger-throwing contest? Or perhaps a duel of wits?"

"A real duel," she declares, her voice resolute. "No weapons. Just you against me. Pure strenght only."

A flicker of intrigue flashes across Astarion's face as he sizes her up. His sarcastic smile slowly fades, replaced by something akin to curiosity. Folding his arms across his chest, he tilts his head and regards her with a newfound interest.

"You're serious, aren't you?" he asks, his voice tinged with skepticism.

Lelianna nods firmly. "Deadly serious," she replies, her voice laced with determination.

A sliver of something dangerous flashes his eyes.

Astarion's lips curl into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, my dear Lelianna, if you truly wish to test your mettle against mine, who am I to deny you such an opportunity?" His voice dripped with mock sincerity as he takes a step closer, closing the gap between them.

Lelianna felt a shiver race down her spine, a mix of excitement and nerves tangling within her. She couldn't quite decipher if she was being foolish or courageous for challenging Astarion to a duel.

Without breaking eye contact, Astarion extended his hand towards her. "Very well, then," he said, his tone filled with a challenge. "May the strongest win."

Shit, shit, shit. What did she get herself into?

Astarion cracks his knuckles with a self-assured smirk, relishing the opportunity to test Lelianna's bravado. He begins to circle her slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Lelianna mirrors his movements, trying to maintain a steady distance between them. Her palms grow clammy as the weight of the challenge sinks in, but she refuses to let it consume her. She squares her shoulders and meets Astarion's gaze head-on.

"Scared? I'll admit, you have every reason to be," Astarion taunts playfully, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You can still back out if you're too frightened"

And she knows. She knows she could back out and return to normal and avoid getting absolutely destroyed and humilliated by the man in front of her. And he would give her shit, fair, but at least she would keep her dignity.

However, the weight of pride and the fear of appearing weak held her back from backing out. So, she meets his eyes, trying to keep steady "I never back out."

Astarion watches her with a light smirk on his face.

"Fine, my dear. But remember you asked for this" Astarion's smirk widens, his eyes glimmering with anticipation as he readies himself.

With a sudden burst of energy, Lelianna lunges forward, feinting to the left before swiftly changing direction and attempting to deliver a swift kick to Astarion's side. However, he effortlessly sidesteps her attack, evading it with a grace that only serves to infuriate her further.

Undeterred, Lelianna regains her balance and pivots on her heel, launching herself towards Astarion once again. This time, she aims a series of quick jabs towards his chest. But Astarion's reflexes are lightning-fast, effortlessly dodging each blow with a surprising swiftness. She is already breathing heavily, while he looks like he is just batting a fly. She needs to change tactics.

So, with all the strength she can muster and a war scream, she climbs into his body, wrapping her arms and legs around him as if he's a tree. But as soon as Lelianna's body connects with Astarion's, she realizes her mistake. She had underestimated his strength and agility, and now she was paying the price.

Astarion's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he falls to the ground with her in his grasp. He pins her to the ground effortlessly, his legs straddling hers to keep her from moving. Lelianna grunts as she hits the ground, her breath knocked out of her. Astarion's strength presses down on her, his body pinning hers with an intensity that sends a jolt of panic through her veins. She struggles beneath him, the weight of his presence suffocating her. She begins to wiggle and squirm, using every ounce of her strength to break free from his grasp.

"Nice try, my dear," Astarion chimes, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "But you'll have to do better than that if you want to best me."

Lelianna grits her teeth, refusing to let defeat consume her. A spark of determination ignites within her as an idea takes shape in her mind.

And then she bites his arm. Hard.

Astarion lets out a yell, and with a sharp movement, he releases his grip on her. "Damn you, that hurt!" he says, his tone is serious and he's now glaring at her. "Did you really just bite me? Are you mad? That is my thing!"

Seizing the opportunity, she rolls to the side and scrambles back onto her feet, as she smirks at Astarion's bewildered expression.

"You said I had to do better," she says, winking playfully. "I call that a win."

And then his gaze turns vicious, making a shiver run down her back.

"Oh dear, we are far from over".

Astarion pounces, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and amusement. Lelianna barely has time to react before he's on her again, his speed blurring their surroundings into a mess of colours and shapes. Desperate, she kicks and squirms, trying to dislodge the infuriating vampire who pins her down with ease.

"You fight dirty," he accuses, his voice low in her ear as he attempts to immobilize her wayward hands.

"Funny," she retorts, grunting as she manages to connect an elbow with his side. "I thought you enjoyed that."

Lelianna's smirk quickly fades as she finds herself once again pinned beneath Astarion's weight. She struggles against his hold, but it seems futile as he chuckles, clearly enjoying this game of cat and mouse.

"I must admit, you have some fight in you," he says, his tone smug. "But don't think biting me will save you every time."

Lelianna bites her lip, feeling a mix of frustration and excitement coursing through her veins. She knows she can't win against Astarion with just brute strength. She needs to use her agility and wit to outsmart him.

With that thought in mind, Lelianna suddenly shifts her weight and twists her body, causing Astarion to lose his balance and fall to the side. She quickly flips over and straddles him, pinning him down this time.

"Now who's on top?" she grins triumphantly.

Astarion's eyes widen in surprise before he bursts into laughter, throwing his head back as if he finds the situation hilarious.

"You truly are something else," he admits, still chuckling. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

Lelianna can't help but feel a sense of pride at getting the upper hand on Astarion. But before she can bask in her victory for too long, he flips them over once again and pins her down.

She charges him again, but he's ready this time. His hands shoot out to catch her wrists before she can land a punch and with a smooth movement, he twists her bound hands back and holds them behind her back. His other arm curves around her waist trapping her against him.

"You really are more like a wild beast than I gave you credit for," he purrs in her ear with amusement. "Are we going to keep rolling around? Or are you ready to surrender?" he smirks down at her.

She tries again to twist, do something. But this time his grip is unwielding, and his whole body is pressing down on her. So that leaves her with only one option. "Let me go, you creep!"

Astarion's smirk only widens at her words, his eyes glittering with mischief. "Oh, is that how you ask nicely?" he teases, keeping her pinned beneath him. His grip on her wrists tightens just a fraction, but it's enough to make Lelianna squirm under his hold.

"You're enjoying this too much," she huffs, her face flushing as she tries to wriggle away from him.

He chuckles again and shakes his head. "Such a shame," he muses, his smirk never leaving his face, "You could have been a worthy opponent."

"I am a worthy opponent!" she retorts indignantly. "I am far more than you could ever handle."

"Maybe," he concedes with an insouciant shrug. But instead of releasing her as she'd hoped, he tightens his grip on her wrists even further. Her face flushes in frustration as she squirms beneath him. "But look at you, so small" He presses down again, making her feel his whole weight on her, rendering her movements even more futile. Sweat trickles down her forehead as she struggles for breath, her chest heaving in the effort to break free. And then he leans into her face, warm breath tickling her skin "I will release you... if you admit you are weak"

"Never! I'm not weak!" she spits, even as a gasp tears from her throat due to his crushing weight. Her pride won't allow it. She can't let him see her as weak, can't admit defeat.

Astarion's smirk only grows wider at her continued resistance. "Oh, but you are," he taunts, "You're just a small, insignificant creature in my grasp."

She wiggles and writhes beneath him, feeling his hot breath on her neck as he leans down closer to her ear. The smell of his sweat and musk fills her nostrils, making her head spin.

"I'm not weak," she repeats stubbornly, the words barely a whisper as she fights to get them out. "I'm just... strategically disadvantaged."

Astarion's laughter rings in her ears, a rich and genuine sound that makes her heart flutter despite the situation.

"You are weak," he repeats says softly, his voice dripping with sensuality. "I always knew it." His hand curls around her neck possessively, holding her in place like an animal that has just caught its prey. "My pretty little bard" he says, grazing his fangs over the skin under her ear.

His rough grip sent shivers down her spine as his hot breath fanned her neck, sending a jolt of excitement through her body. Her breath catches, and she finds herself arching her back a little.

She feels helpless and trapped beneath his larger frame. And for some twisted reason, she likes it.

"I am not your prey" she mutters raggedly.

"Oh, but I think you are," he says, trailing his teeth from her neck to her jaw "and I will use you however I see fit."

Lelianna's breath hitches at his words, and she fights back the blush threatening to spread across her cheeks.

"You can't do that," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion chuckles, his grip tightening around her neck, making her breathless. "I can do anything I want, and you won't be able to stop me." He leans in, his fangs just barely graze against her throat, a delicate stroke that sends fresh shivers skittering across her skin. "And I'm not going to stop until I've had my fill."

Her heart thuds loudly in her chest at his words, drowned out only by the sound of their mingled breaths.

"But you would like that, wouldn't you? Look at you, all flustered under me." he smirks "you love feeling helpless, feeling weak."

I stiffle a moan when I feel the hand on my neck slowly caressing its way to my chest.

"Y-you don't know what you're saying," I manage to stammer, my voice breaking.

"Oh, but I do," he says, his smirk never wavering. "I see it in your eyes, the way your breath hitches when I touch you, the way your body trembles beneath me. You feel it too, don't you, Lelianna?"

His hand moves inside my leather top, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of my breast, making me shiver with desire. My breath hitches in my throat as he leans in closer, his tongue brushing against my neck, sending a wave of pleasure.

"You want me to take you, to use you for my own pleasure." he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. "So needy and desperate"

"T-that is not true. I don't want your self-centered ass" I mumble.

He gives me a wicked smile, before lowering his hand. Lelianna's eyes widened in shock as she felt his hand dipping beneath her pants. He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against her skin. "Your words say one thing, Lelianna," his lips curl into a wicked smirk, "But your body says something entirely different."

"I…" His thumb lightly brushes over her stomach, causing her to gasp sharply. Her mind is a whirl of thoughts and desires - part of her wants to push him away while the other part yearns for his touch.

She tried to reply, but her voice was muffled by the panting. She was lost in the pleasurable sensations coursing through her body.

"You can't keep losing yourself like this," he continued, his voice soft and gentle. "You have to stay strong."

I can't answer him, as he's already started to move his hand again over her breast. Her senses are overwhelmed with the sensation, and she feels like she's about to lose it.

"Do you want me to stop, Lelianna? Do you really?" he purrs in her ear.

She bites her lip, scared that her mouth will betray her.

His voice trails off slightly, and his movements slow. "My poor little bard..."

And then he stops altogether

"What-?" she begins, disapointment coloring her words.

But his grip doesn't relent. Instead, he grabs his belt and places it over her wrists, with the intention of binding her. He leans in and whispers in her ear, this time softer "Do you want to stop?"

His crimson eyes study her face intently.

"No," she murmurs, her voice barely audible. "I don't want to stop."

And he grins widely.

"Great." he finishes binding the belt hard. She feels his hips moving against her, his erection pressing into her, and she can't help but arch her back, wanting more. "You're a tempting little thing, Lelianna," he growls, his voice low and thick with desire. "But we have to be careful. We can't have you wriggling around, can we? That would spoil all the fun"

She struggled against his grip, but it was no use. He had her completely under his control. "Oh, you look rather beautiful like this," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"No fun in fighting, Astarion?" she manages to retort despite the arousal clouding her senses.

"Quite the opposite, my dear," he purrs back at her, pressing his body closer to hers, making her squirm even more. "The fight is half the fun. The other half... is in winning. So you may want to start behaving better, hm?."

"Oh, but I'm behaving so good!" she exclaims, trying to sound innocent. "You're the one with the wandering hands."

Astarion smirks, a devilish grin spreading across his face. "Oh, are you now?" he purrs, his fingers still tracing the sensitive skin of her chest, teasingly slow. "Then I suppose I'll have to make an exception for you." he whispers, his lips now surrounding her nipple, gently suckling.

Lelianna's breath hitches, her body trembling as the sensation courses through her. She tries to struggle against him, but it's no use. She's putty in his hands.

He takes her nipple between his teeth, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Lelianna's back arches, her hips bucking against him as pleasure rippled through her.

"Freaking vampire" I murmur "always biting and sucking where he shouldn't."

Astarion's chuckles fill the air as he continues his torment. "You are right. I should be putting my mouth somewhere else."

He retreats from her breast, his smirk never leaving his face as he moves lower, his fingers dancing over her stomach before finally unbuttoning her pants. His gaze is intense and possessive, filled with a hunger that makes her heart race.

"I think you deserve your punishment for losing, don't you agree?" he whispers, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Her breath hitched and she bit back a moan as he nipped at her thigh lightly.

"W-well, not exactly lost," she tries to reason with him. "I mean, the rules weren't explicit, and-"

And then he dives in, and his tongue darts out tasting her slowly, teasingly. She gasps as he laps at her folds, savoring the taste of her arousal. Her legs tremble beneath him, helpless from his iron grip on them.

"Mmm," he hums against her skin, giving her pleasurable vibrations. Her legs quiver at the sensation, and she lets out a small whimper.

He separates for a second and smiles up at her.

"Not that hot-headed anymore, are we darling?" He says, while slowly introducing a finger inside of her. Lelianna gasps as Astarion's tongue torments her clit, flicking it in a way that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She tries to wriggle again, but the binds hold her tight. Her hips begin to buck against his face unconsciously, seeking more contact with his mouth. The friction of his lips and teeth on her most sensitive spots make her moan loudly, sending vibrations across the clearing where they are. His fingers inside of her stretch and fill her, causing her insides to clench around him incessantly. His tongue laps at her folds, teasing every inch of sensitive skin it can find and driving her crazy with desire. She feels like she's on fire everywhere. The belt binding her wrists scrapes her skin sending sparks of pain through her system. Every nerve ending is alive with desire as he plays with her body, and she can feel herself getting closer to the edge with each passing moment.

His fingers slide in and out of her tightness with ease, stretching her further than she ever thought possible. Each thrust is accompanied by a low groan from deep within him. She opens her eyes again, and find him already looking with a predatory look, as if he's devouring her

"I won't last long if you keep looking at me like that," she finally manages to gasp out, her eyes fluttering closed again as each wave of pleasure seems more intense than the last.

His fingers move faster inside of her, stoking the fire within her until it becomes unbearable.

"Say my name," he growls against her skin, his fingers curling inside of her in just the right way.

"N-no" But he just bites the inside of her thigh.

"Say my name"

She resists for a moment, a stubborn streak burning fierce in her eyes. But his fingers are unrelenting, his touch too exquisite. And the weight of his gaze, predatory and possessive, is more than she can bear.

"Astarion," she breathes out, her voice barely more than a whisper yet laden with an intensity that has him grinning wickedly.

"That's right, Lelianna," he purrs against her skin, his lips tracing a searing path up her thigh. "You're mine tonight."

Her body is quaking beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing through her with each stroke of his fingers and lap of his tongue.

"All mine," he purrs again, his tongue flicking over her clit. "Tell me you're mine, Lelianna." It’s a demand, an order that she finds herself all too willing to comply with.

"I'm yours," she cries out. His fingers curl within her, brushing against a spot that has her seeing stars and gasping for breath. Astarion’s smirk widens at her response, and he leans down to nip at her inner thigh lightly. The combined sensations of his fingers moving inside her and his teeth on her skin tip her over the edge, and with a cry, she comes undone beneath him.

“Astarion!” she gasps, her thighs quaking around his head as he thrashes his tongue against her. She can feel waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of her body, radiating from where he's touching her. Her arms strain against the belt tying them together, the rough texture of it scraping against her skin and adding a touch of pain to the overwhelming pleasure. Her back arches, and she cries out his name once more before succumbing to the bliss.

But instead of stopping, Astarion's tongue and fingers keep their unyielding pace, making her shiver with the pain of oversensitivity.

"W-what are you doing?" she breathes, struggling against her restraints.

But he just looks up with a wide grin, his hand still pounding inside of her "I'm giving you your punishment."

And with that, he quickens his pace, his tongue and fingers relentless as they push her towards another wave of pleasure. His crimson eyes flicker with delight as he watches her writhe beneath him, sweat glistening on her flushed skin.

"No more..." she pleads between gasps, her body quivering from the intensity. But her protest is drowned out by the pleasure he's igniting within her.

His free hand reaches up to grip her breast, his thumb rubbing circles over a hardened nipple. The combined sensations have her writhing and bucking beneath him, desperately seeking release. Each touch is electric, setting her skin. Astarion’s lips curl into a devilish smirk at her reaction, his tongue continuing its torturous pace. He flicks his finger against her increasingly sensitive nub, drawing out a whimper from her. “What’s the matter, darling?” he asks, feigning innocence. “Can’t handle your punishment?”

She would've rolled her eyes if she wasn't so lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

She tries to form a response, but all that comes out are fragmented moans and short gasps of breath. She writhes underneath him, the binds on her wrists chafing against her skin. But he doesn't let up, his fingers thrusting deeply within her as he skillfully plays with her clit.

"I... I hate you" she gasps out.

Astarion just laughs, the sound dark and throaty. "Oh, I know," he replies, his gaze unfaltering, as if he knows a truth she herself has yet to realize. His fingers increase their rhythm, torturing her remorselessly. Every touch sends jolts of pleasure radiating from her core and spreading to every corner of her being. She starts getting dizzy, all the sensations coming to her at once. Her body convulses beneath him once again as another orgasm rips right through her. She screams his name, her voice hoarse and breathless, as her body shakes uncontrollably. But Astarion doesn't stop, keeps driving his fingers within her folds while his tongue flicks over her sensitive bud.

"Gods" she cries, as fire sweeps through her veins, searing every inch of her. She gasps, completely breathless as her body convulses in the throes of bittersweet pleasure.

She rides the wave, writhing and thrashing in the circle of Astarion's arms. At that point, she is just blabbering nonsense, far too gone to make any coherent thought. She can hear him whispering something, a low rumble of words against her skin that makes her shiver with aftershocks.

"Again," he orders, his fingers flexing inside of her, and she obeys without thought, brought back to the brink by the insistent pressure of his hand.

"I can’t... I can’t..." she gasps, feeling her body start to tremble again. She tries to get away from his mouth, but the binds and his arms are a powerful restraint.

"Shhh," he whispers against her skin, "you will. For me."

She can't distinguish between her orgasms anymore, everything a jumbled mess of sensitivity and pleasure. His fingers continue their relentless rhythm, pushing her further and further until she feels like she might shatter from the intensity. His mouth returns to her clit, sucking harshly and her vision turns white as she convulses underneath him once more. She is screaming so loud her voice breaks, her hands clawing at the dirt beneath them. Her entire body tenses and spasms with pleasure. Suddenly, she feels a rush come out of her, and sees what has happened before she processes it. She’s squirted, soaking him and the ground beneath them both. Astarion pulls back, laughing in delight at her shocked expression.

“Doesn’t look like you hate me that much, darling,” he teases, wiping his face with his free hand.

Her cheeks are flushed bright red, the embarrassment nearly consuming her. She's too overwhelmed to form a coherent thought, let alone a retort. She just glares at him half-heartedly, her energy spent on the pleasure he'd mercilessly coaxed from her body. Her breasts rise and fall quickly as she gasps for air, sweat trickling down from her temples to pool in the hollow of her throat.

But Astarion only seems to be spurred on by this new development. He lowers himself down between her legs once more, tongue darting out to taste her again.

Lelianna squirms, oversensitive from her previous orgasms. "No...no more..."

But he isn't on her anymore like before. Instead, his lips and tongue are cleaning her thighs and the space between, lapping up every last drop of her release, smirking up at her with a look that was equal parts predatory and satisfied. The cool night air sends a chill down her spine as Astarion’s tongue hits her overheated skin.

"You're such a mess, darling," he coos, his fingers lightly tracing over her sensitive mound. His touch is light now, soothing after the relentless torture he'd subjected her to. Despite herself, Lelianna lets out a sigh of relief.

Her body is shaking from exhaustion and overstimulation. But she can't deny the thrill that still thrums through her veins or the rush of adrenaline that leaves her feeling both breathless and revitalized.

He briefly rests his head on her stomach, his white disheveled hair tickling the sensitive skin there. His hands are gentle as they trace patterns along her waist and hips, soothing her trembling muscles. Once he’s done, Astarion takes her out of her bindings "I think you've learned your lesson,” he murmurs meanwhile, with a little smile.

Lelianna blinks up at him, still panting and trying to catch her breath. "You're... insufferable," she stammers, voice hoarse from her screams.

But he just smirks and kisses her softly. Then, Astarion curls protectively around her, his hand resting casually on her stomach. He's warm and solid, his chest rising and falling steadily against her back. The quiet night is a stark contrast to their previous activities, but it’s peaceful and comforting in its own way. She turns to look at Astarion, his face bathed in the soft moonlight filtering down from the trees above. His expression is unguarded, with a hint of smug satisfaction playing about the corners of his lips. They kiss lazily, and then with a gasp she remembers.

"Wait you didn't" she starts, weakly reaching for his pants.

But he catches her wrist and kisses the side of it. "Not today, little bard. Today was about you." he whispers softly, his breath teasing along her skin and stirring goosebumps in its wake.

"I think I've had enough of your idea of punishment," she murmurs, her eyes fluttering closed with the lull of relaxation coursing through her.

"Let's go back to the tent and I will make up for it" he whispers over her ear.

He gets up and swiftly helps her sit up, but her legs give away at the movement and she slumps against him, her body too spent to hold her upright. He laughs heartly "And there's our strong bard who can take anyone in a fight."

She rolls her eyes, too tired to even attempt a retort. "You're lucky I can't move," she grumbles, leaning heavily against him.

His chuckle rings out through the quiet night. He puts his cloak around her, clothes discarded somewhere in the clearing. Then reaches down and easily lifts her into his arms. She yelps in surprise, gripping tightly onto his shirt as he carries her back towards their tent.

"Don't get used to it," he warns playfully. “I don’t make a habit of carrying damsels in distress.”

She scoffs weakly at that, resting her head on his shoulder. "You wish I was a damsel in distress to feed your ego."

Astarion's laughter is infectious, filling the otherwise silent forest with his mirth. It sends waves of warmth coursing through her despite the cool evening air.

"So, when is our next lesson?"