#seeing her with longer hair made me ravenous

[artbyfuji]

very dangerous rosebird sketch dump 🤩💥

[byuntrash101]

still your biggest fan. – 송민기.

SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend is on the other side of the globe touring. somehow you fear the cheers of the fans will make him forget about you. so you decide to remind him you are still and will always be his biggest fan

or in which you find a novel way to use your lightstick and send the video to your beloved bf.

mingi x f!reader, smut, mdni

tags. etablished relationship, facetime sex, masturbation (f & m), BLACK UNDERCUT MINGI (!!!!!!!!), jealous + slightly possessive reader, but mingi reassures her (awwww), use of (unconventional) toys (wink wonk im insane pls stop me), pet names, multiple orgasms (f), praises, squirting. wc. 2k

a/n. this mingi has me feral and the concert videos got me in a chokehold. and it's only the first date i need help. also shout out to that one video of yungi saying they use the lightstick to "relax" at night. not proofread.

There was one thing that was absolutely certain about Mingi: that man loved attention. That man lived for the roars of the crowd. When he danced, he was electrified by the cheers of the fans. And you knew your boyfriend was made to be on stage. He enjoyed the attention of fans, hence the fact he was constantly body rolling, hip thrusting and tongue poking. He loved to see the thousands of people thirst for him, he loved looking at all the concert videos all over the internet. He laughed and giggled at the tiktok edits, at the twitter threads, at every comment more over the top than the next.

Usually you don’t mind, you even enjoy them too. You like seeing him happy and fulfilled in his job but today maybe you’re a little insecure. He just flew out to start the American leg of the tour and you’re left behind in this bed that seems so empty. You fear somehow the loud cheers will make him forget about you. You don’t want that. You want to remind him. You want to make sure that today when he goes to sleep the last thing he sees is you. 

You looked at the time, your eyes darted to the digital clock on your night stand. At this time he was probably already at the hotel. It was pretty late for you but you wanted to send him a little treat, you knew how Mingi loved when you sent him videos of you playing with yourself and today you might add a little twist. 

You didn’t have much time if you wanted him to see the video before he slept…

***

Mingi was spent, true. But he was still pumped full of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shower with the ends of his raven black hair wet, the longer strands of his undercut dripping down. He didn’t even bother stepping into his pajamas, the AC was off and this part of the world in July was pretty hot. 

He tucked himself in bed, still wide awake. He looked at his phone, a text from you from several hours ago when you went to bed. You were probably sleeping right now. He debated responding, fearing he would wake you. But he pictures you pouting when you’d wake up in a few hours without a response from him and he couldn’t bear to make you feel that way so he typed a quick answer. 

🎀 princess #2: hope the show goes well (ik it will because you gonna kill it cause you the best😌). i lob you. you know that right? dont forget about me ok? <33333333

👸princess minki (real): i could never baby i love you more. hope you have a great day and i miss you baby <3

then for a second the three little dots appeared and Mingi thought he hallucinated it. But then an other text appeared.

🎀 princess #2: i’ll always be your first and your biggest fan

Mingi didn't even have time to reply that he received a video file. He faintly gasped at the thumbnail. It was your legs spread out on his bed. The big play button in the middle of the frame though blocked out the most interesting part and he didn’t even breathe before he played the video.

He continued to hold his breath when he saw you rub your clit throught your white panties. He didn’t know how long you did played with yourself but your panties were completely see through. Your juices were sticking to your folds, the laces barely concealing you anymore. But still, he needed these damn panties out of the way. 

He wanted to see you. His hand found his cock on instinct, immediately palming his hardening bulge. And his prayers were answered. You pushed the panties to the side uncovering the most beautiful sight Mingi had ever layed eyes on. He exhaled a long sigh when long strings of slick connected you to the thin fabric of the underwear. How bad he wanted to be there, to stuff your soaked panties into your mouth while he thrusted his thick fingers into you. How bad he wanted to feel you twitch around him. How bad he wanted to hear his name fall from your quivering lips as he brought you to your peak. He wanted you so bad.

But then you grabbed hold of something, something that emitted light… The lightiny? Mingi’s jaw hung open when he saw you bring the handle to your center, rubbing it through your folds, coating it with your juices before bringing it up to your hard clit playing with a little, prying beautiful muffled sounds out of your mouth. Just to bring the handle down again, you took a firm grip of the rounded part and pushed the handle inside your trembling core. 

“Fuck” Mingi exhaled as he started pumping his balled fist around his now fully hard cock, he kicked the covers off him just to be able to jerk himself off without resistance. 

“Nghhh” you moaned quietly as you bottomed out. “M-Mingi are you watching?” As if you could see him, Mingi nodded vigorously, qmd you gave more purpose to the coming and going of his wrist. “Keep watching me. K-keep- fuck aaaah. Keep looking at me. I’ll make myself cum for you, ok?”

“Fuck yes baby I wanna see it all.” Mingi replied in a strangled breath, his hand going to play with balls, while his other hand held the phone incredibly close to his face. if he could have he would have gone through the screen and right into you. 

You started to slowly bounce on the lightstick. You were obviously already really worked up, your pussy was clenching down on the shiny copper handle and the light was perfectly shining on your hard clit, making it obvious that you were pretty close. Red and swollen, ready to explode. Just how he liked.

So you did. In a few seconds your thighs were trembling and your movement became uneven. You started to squirt small translucent spurts, one then two.

“Fuck baby you’re so fucking hot” Mingi breathed and pumped himself faster. 

You took the copper handle out and rubbed your clit in tight and fast circles, squirting more translucent liquid and soaking the sheets. Your center quivering around nothing. You slowed down with a sigh and the video stopped.

Mingi felt like he was going to sink into eternal darkness and despair if he didn’t see more of you right now. His cock was twitching in his strong fist, his cockhead was leaking so much precum he wanted you to see him too. He wanted you to know what you did to him.

So he pressed FaceTime. It rang once, twice then you picked up. You looked disheveled and short of breath. Fuck how fucking beautiful you were. Mingi wanted to kiss you all over this pretty face of yours.

“Why do you torture me?” he said a little more whiny than anticipated. 

He was so cute with wet hair and his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. He flipped the camera to show you his swollen cock, hard, red and leaking. You bit you lip at the mouth watering sight.

“I just wanted you to remember me. That's all.” you started, your hand finding your folds once again. “Remind you I will always be your biggest fan”

“Fuck how could I forget about you? Are you insane?” he breathed out, his voice sounded strained, in pain almost. You could only imagine how worked up he was and this urgency in his tone compelled you to find a new angle to the video call. You balanced it on the covers and your wet pussy and the mess you made came into view again.

“Fuckkkk” Mingi sighed again, trying his hardest not to be too loud. San was next door and the last thing he wanted was for him to bring up his little intimate session with you tomorrow at breakfast. “You’ve made such a mess. I usually hate it but God I’d give everything to sleep in the wet spot tonight”. You saw him jerk himself off faster, his thumb spreading the precum all over his tip and dragging it down his shaft. Squeezing the head the bring out even more and repeat it again. 

“Please show me again” he didn’t intend to sound so desperate but it couldn’t be helped because he in fact was that desperate for you. “Please show me how you fuck yourself with the lightiny”

“O-okay” You brought it back and stuffed it inside your clenching little pussy with a sigh, your other hand spreading your lips apart, making sure Mingi had the first raw VIP view of the show. 

“Fuckkkk” he whined again. “You’re so fucking nasty for me, doll”

You chuckled, knowing your little scheme had worked. You knew right now he was only thinking of you. Completely pussy drunk even though he was thousands of miles away.

“I wish it was you inside me right now, Mingming”

“Fuck me too baby” he said strangling his cock tighter, more precum oozing out again. He was close judging by the way he kept on twitching in his own hand. The sight urged you to bounce harder on the handle of the lightstick, your pussy clenching around it, gliding so smoothly in and out of you while your other hand kept on abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Baby I-I’m close” he said, a certain rasp about his voice that was only giving more weight to his words. His fist was frantically moving along his cock, now mainly focussing on his tip, making the poor thing absolutely miserable: all wet and beet red, close to bursting.

“M-me too” you said,  feeling the familiar knot in the pits of your stomach approaching its rupture point. The premise of your orgasm manifested itself in the form of an other small sprut of transparent liquid “Nggghh fuck-” you gasped. “I’m c-cumming again” you whined, rubbing your clit faster, in thighter circles. You ripped the handle out of you and one big squirt came out of your abused little pussy, joining the existing mess in Mingi’s sheets. 

“Oh fuck baby” Mingi couldn’t peel his eyes of the screen. “Fuck baby me- Fuck… Me too” He watched as your thighs became weak and as your pretty little pusy gushed out more and more fluids. You were the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And he couldn’t possibly take it anymore. He let himself go. He abruptly stop stroking himself just to let the first big rope of cum sprout out of his slit and crash over his stomach. You moaned louder at the sight. He kept on stroking again, milking more delicious cum out of his twitching red cock, completely repainting his stomach with thick and white cum, grunting as his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards until it all stopped.

When he had caught his breath he approached the phone to show his stomach and scooped some of his spillage between his fingers. 

“Look what you did to me? Just cause you got a little jealous of the fans?” he chuckled.

“I did that?” you said appalled, “No you did that! Stop making me jealous and it won't happen again” He flipped the camera again and you couldn't help but to smile mindlessly at the screen. He was a complete wreck, sharp eyes half lidded, bottom lip swollen and red from being bitten and strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. This haircut made him ridiculously hot. A mischievous smirk pulled at his full lips.

“Or…” he trailed off. “I don't this stop and you make me dirty sexy videos after every show”

“Yeah” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice. “Let's see you do that! We’ll see how it goes when you came back” you challenged him. Your smile sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. He loved you but you definitely could be scary sometimes.

“You know what, I changed my mind. I'll just behave and you can reward me when I get home.”

want more? try my fic facetime ♡

SYNOPSIS. mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick.

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[moobell55]

His Lady's Love

~Lord Benjicot Blackwood returns home from a border skirmish to his lovely lady~

Trigger Warnings~Description of blood and wounds, reference to battle, Bracken hate, mentions of sex and pregnancy, reader is simply referred to as Lady Blackwood, her features are as you wish but longer hair is mentioned, angst, comfort, and fluff, They're in love your Honor~

The air in Blackwood Castle smelled of rains and unforeseen troubles as the darkness of the evening slowly overcame the Riverlands. The sun had made its way across the sky as a strong storm had formed around the castle; one almost as strong as the Young Lord making his way to his chambers.

The young Lord's dark clothes were stained with blood, the same blood that covered his face in a mockery of freckles and sunspots. His tunic sleeve was ripped open exposing a detestable wound, the sticky blood clinging to his skin like a lover would. His boots stunk of mud and the Bracken's cow field.

But with his head held high with victory the Young Benjicot quickly made his way to his chambers; paying no attention to the filth or blood that dripped upon the ancient stone floors. The Raven Haired Lord only had one thing on his battle worn mind, only one person worth seeing in this forsaken realm.

And so the Young Benjicot hastily burst into his chambers, and his bloodied gaze quickly set upon the Lady of His Heart. She sat in front of the dying fire, the dancing flames shone upon her hair as it cascaded around her. His lady was clad in a smooth night dress, the dress going to great lengths to hide his wife's growing body.

At the sound of the grand door opening she quickly pivoted her head around to be met with the sight of her blood soaked husband. A smile quickly fell from her face as she harshly stood up to meet him but not before Benjicot quickly made his way towards his beloved.

"Benji," her voice was filled with concern as her injured husband quickly but carefully forced her to sit back down.

Her Lord Husband quickly cut her questions off, "The maesters have said that you need to rest my Lady," his eyes filled with nothing but affection for his lady.

Lady Blackwood's eyes narrowed at her husband's mothering tendencies, all the while his arm gaped open and he was stained with blood.

She scoffed, "I could rest if my Lord Husband was not constantly getting into tussles with the Brackens over cattle." Her words spoke of anger but Benjicot could see a hint of fear within his wife's face.

Being neither a Blackwood or Bracken by birth his wife often found the bickering between the two houses to be a great sense of mirth, but this was the first time her Lord Husband had ever been injured.

His lips quivered into a smile, "My lady mustn't worry about me, a Bracken foal stands no chance against the Lord of Raventree," he carefully removed a blood stained glove and stroked his beloved's cheek.

"You are injured, Benjicot," she said as she held his wounded arm. "How can I rest when I know my husband is roaming the Riverlands like a feral mongrel?"

Her gaze fell down to her covered stomach, the evidence of their love showing through the night dress. She tenderly grabbed his clean hand and placed it on her swollen stomach, her eyes once again meeting his.

"I cannot rest knowing that my husband might not one day come back," her eyes glazed over and tears began to form, "that he would leave me a Widow and our child fatherless, all for an endless feud that harms us all."

His lady's words stung more than any wound ever could. Benjicot Blackwood was an honorable and proud man, he sent fear across battlefields, but he never wanted to send fear into his own home let alone his beloved wife.

Benjicot had never been gifted in his skills with words let alone comfort, but the tears that dripped onto his Lady's soft cheeks seemed to jar something from his spirit.

His shaky hands intertwined with his wife over her stomach, his unbloodied hand gently caressing her smooth fingers.

"When I swore to you under our Weirwood Tree I promised I would remain by your side to my final breath, that you would be my Lady until I depart this world," silent tears fell onto her Lady's cheeks as he spoke of their blissful day.

"I should've proclaimed that I will not depart this world without you, that I will grow old with my Lady, that together our children will know peace in the realm," he smiled softly, "that their father will always come home to them, and that his beloved would never fear her husband was lying dead on the border."

A kind smile graced his wife's face and his heart fluttered at the sight, two years into their binding and she still sent tremors through the Young Lord's soul.

He wiped a tear with his unbloodied hand and spoke boldly, "I love you like I love no other, and I promise to honor you for the rest of my life; I cannot promise to end the feud but I will always come home to my Lady and our children." 

Lady Blackwood simply smiled and to Benjicots surprise quickly drew Benji into a loving embrace; his Lady not seeming to mind the filth he was covered in. As his sweet wife embraced the blood soaked man, it felt as if his soul had been cleaned of the lives he had taken. A man as battle hardened as Benjicot knew he did not deserve such a gift, but maybe he’d one day become worthy of such a gift. For his unborn babe that rested within his beloved's Womb, and for the beloved Lady that rested within Lord Benjicot Blackwood's arms. 

As Lady Blackwood was held in her husband's arms she placed a kiss over his clothed heart, it seemed to be the only place on his tunic that wasn’t stained with blood. Tenderly she pulled off his other bloodied glove and brought both hands into a kiss. Soft tears filled her Lord's mossy eyes at the sight, but Benjicot could not find words worth speaking at the gesture. 

“I love you my Benjicot, my sweet protector and my beloved husband; your battle worn hands do not scare me and they never will, and I know you shall always come home to us, but a wife will worry.” Understanding filled Lady Blackwood's eyes, and Benji felt as if he had seen her for the first time like he did under the Weirwood tree years ago.

A teasing smile flicked across her face, “You are filthy Benji, and you have ruined my gown,” her words were not harsh but seemed playful to the blushing Benjicot who now seemed red in the face with his own blood. Realizing him she placed a hand on her stomach and carefully guided Benji into their shared bath chambers, where a filled bronze tub steamed away in the corner. A smirk fell upon Benji's face showing off a hint of his crooked teeth and pulled at the dried blood on his face. 

“Did my beloved know I would return home filthy?” His voice was teasing, as a small blush appeared on his Lady's face.

An equally roguish smirk appeared on her face and it sent Benji's heart ablaze, “Maybe a wife just wishes to bathe with her beloved Husband.” 

Lord Benjicot could do nothing but laugh and pull his beloved lady closer to him and press a soft kiss against her forehead. 

And soon the Lord and Lady of Raventree washed the blood of their bodies together, as a silent promise thicker than the grime on Benjicot filled their hearts. A promise of love and peacefulness for their people and the Babe growing in his dearest wifes womb.

(I hope y'all enjoyed this, I haven't written in a very long time and this is my first House of the Dragon Fic, I've been obsessed with Benjicot Blackwood lately and I hope to write more works for fim :) I'm always taking writing suggestions and Fic requests so if you have any ideas please let me know! )

[writing-fanics]

not once

Sebastian Michaelis x F!Reader

Not even once did Sebastian think he’d end up falling in love with a human. Why, would be an immortal being a demon in fact want to fool around with such human emotions.

Toying with them for his own entertainment and manipulating them at their most vulnerable was quite enjoyable. But actually, falling in love developing feelings that made his immortal heart skip a beat?

and yet, here she was his beautiful wife fast asleep on the bed in one of the many rooms in the Phantomhive manor. that the young master so graciously gave her when went into labor only twelve hours ago.

He walked over towards the bassinet, peered over and smiled seeing the tiny half-demon offspring. Tiny whimpers, escaped the babies mouth as it squirmed. He smirked, picking up the child and cradling them in his arms.

“My child, you’re just as beautiful as your mother.” He cooed, over the infant who opened his eyes and had a faint smile on his face.

“My little, Arioch.” He cooed, he looked over towards his wife who was fast asleep. Young master, had already given him a few days off to be with his child and wife.

Arioch babbled, looking up at his father his tiny hands reaching up to touch his raven black hair. Sebastian smiled, “Already, growing up before my very eyes.” He said, and the infant giggled continuing to make nonsenseical babbles.

Arioch has taken the place of the most adorable being, on the entire planet. Step out of the way cats Sebastian’s son has taken your place.

Arioch giggled, and his eyes for a moment flash red and Sebastian smiled planting a kiss on his sons forehead. His son, looked just like his mother. Sebastian found absolutely adorable.

“He’s beautiful isn’t he?” A voice said, and he turned around seeing his wife awake and reaching out her arms to see her child.

Sebastian walked towards her leaning down kissing her on the lips, “He is,” He whispered, into her ear causing her to smile. As she looked at the infant, cooing over how cute he was and how much he looked like the two of them combined.

Arioch sneezed, causing [Y/n] to squeal at how cute their baby is. Sebastian looked between his wife and child, and didn’t know what he would do without them. Yes, he’d continue to serve the young master until their contract was over and he’d devour his soul.

Yet, during that time the demon had fallen in love with a human and made a child. Demons usually takes lives not create them and here he was holding the life he’d created in his arms. And it honestly felt surreal to him, he was a demon and yet was experiencing something so heavenly especially for someone who’s been damned to hell.

He knew that one day his wife would pass, his son he doesn’t know exactly. Arioch might live longer than a human but not be an immortal. “My love,” Sebastian said, his wife turned to look at him.

“Thank you, for sharing this experience with me,” He said, and she smiled planting a kiss on his cheek before placing one hand on his cheek.

“No, thank you. I love you so much Sebastian demon or not that doesn’t change how I feel.” She said, and he just grinned.

“Also, I think Grell found out that we have a child now and she’s not happy.” She said, and Sebastian frowned in annoyance seeing the angry grim reaper outside the window.

‘Bassy! It’s no fair!’

‘How does she get you and I don’t!’

“I’ll be right back my love.” He said, and she nodded before looking back at her baby smiling.

[storiesfromafan]

Jealousy Does Look Good On You - Benny x Reader

A/N: this was just me pulling something out of a hat, haha. Bit of writers block right now. But something is better then nothing.

Also, forgive me if this isn't that good. As well as, excuse my attempt at describing their kissing, its been a little haha.

Enjoy.

Tag list: @strayrockette

I wont look at him. I wont look at him. I wont look at him, you chanted over and over in your head. Determined to not pay Benny any mind. It's his choice if he wanted to entertain another woman across the room from you. It's not like you were together, nor his girl.

Your relationship with Benny was undefined, though you thought the striking Vandal was into you just as much as you were into him. But apparently it was just one sided; yours. And now he was showing another woman how to play pool. The very thing that led to you even speaking to Benny in the first place a month ago.

You had seen the raven haired vixen by the jukebox, eyeing up Benny for an hour before making her move. She had started talking to Wahoo and Corky, before Benny got roped in by the two men. From there – as you watched – she moved closer to Benny. Then she got touchy when they talked, laughing at jokes made. And then he was showing her how to play pool.

That was it. You had turned your back to the scene. Your heart not being able to take it any more. The beer you had been nursing, now your best friend. Kathy had been watching you, and the scene with Benny. Shaking her head she couldn’t believe how brazen the woman was, as well as Benny for going there.

“Forget him" Kathy said, shooting daggers at the pool table.

“I'm tryin'” you sighed. “I need another drink".

With that you got up and headed for the bar. Standing with your arms on the counter, you waited to be served. All the while hearing the obnoxious laugh of the raven hair woman. You rolled your eyes, wanting to gag at the sound. Finally you put in an order for two beers – you thought you’d be nice and get Kathy another beer – when an all to familiar body lent on the counter next to you.

Benny bumped his shoulder into yours. “Hi".

“Hi" you replied flatly, keeping your eyes straight. As you know one look at him and you'd be a goner, when you wanted to be mad.

Benny frowned, a confused look upon his face. “Everythin’ alright?”

You nodded your head. “Peachy" – your two beers were place before you, and you grabbed them – “you better go back to your new friend, she must be missin' your company".

And with that you walked off, leaving Benny even more confused then when he stepped up to the bar. Running his hand threw his hair, he was about to follow you, when Corky called him back to the pool table. With a moment of pause, Benny gave in and went back for a new game of pool. All the while trying to work out what was up with you.

“Here" you said placing a beer before Kathy, “thought I'd get ya one".

She thanked you, observing you after watching the icy exchange with Benny. Seeing the blank look upon your face, but eyes telling her how upset you were.

“What was that at the bar?” She asked, all motherly with you.

You sighed. “He came over and said hi. I replied back but I guess he could tell somethin's off, so he asked if everythin' alright”. You took a sip of your new beer.

“Your reply was?”

“Peachy...you better go back to your new friend, she must be missin' your company”. You took another, longer sip.

Kathy's eyes widened as she moved in her seat. “Was that smart?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. But felt good".

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah it usually does, until it wears off. Then ya feel like shit".

Again you nodded, taking a sip. “Yes, I know that. I'm feelin' it right now Kathy".

She patted you on the back. “I know. But do your best to not think about it. I doubt Benny is interested in her, I know he only has eyes for ya". She gave you a wink and a soft smile.

All you could do was give her a weak smile. God bless her for trying to cheer you up. But to be honest, you could understand why Benny would go for Raven locks. She was beautiful, dressed like she belonged here, and was confident. Everything you weren’t. You weren't an ugly duckling, but you weren't on her level. You were more of a young Doris Day, while she gave Marilyn Monroe.

After the exchange at the bar, Benny kept his distance. And that added to your despair. You really did shoot yourself in the foot. You stole looks from time to time. They looked comfortable standing next to each other. You even saw her rest her head on his shoulder with a giggle. But what put an end to the night for you was watching her wrap her arms around his neck in joy when she won a game of pool.

“I'm done" you informed Kathy gathering your cardigan and bag. “I can’t do it anymore. I'm headin' out”.

She frowned at you but understood. “Ya want to get a cab together?”

You shook your head. “Nuh, I'm good. I think a walk would be good. But thanks” you gave her a small smile. “Have a good night".

With that you moved through the bar, around various Vandals till you made it the main doors. The cool night air hit you, so you put on your cardigan, slinging your bag over your shoulder. With the briefest of a look in both directions, you crossed the road and began to head down the street. It would be a good twenty minute walk back to your place, if you walked at a decent pace. But with how you were feeling, a slow stroll would be your pace tonight.

Of course your mind thought about Benny, and how the night had gone. Usually when you came to the bar he would play a few rounds of pool before joining you and Kathy. He'd sit next to you, arm resting on the back of your chair. You both would share looks, you’d admire his beautiful blue eyes and killer smile. Or watch when he would smoke a cigarette. You'd watch him take a drag, hold it and admire how he would let the smoke out. As well as his hands, his fingers holding the cigarette so gently.

Other times you would lionize his arms. Noting his muscles and how they react to his movements. Or study the random tattoos that adorn those arms. But you'd always go back to Benny's face, taking in his stunning features. His strong jaw line that was covered in stubble. His cheek bones and full lips. And the messy blonde locks upon his head, just beginning to have a hand run threw them.

But here you were, walking home miserable and hearthaching. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back. Just until you got home, and were safely behind a close door to finally breakdown. For you knew you were partially to blame. You probably pissed Benny off with your words. Or he didn't care, and took your words as a pass at the other woman. Either way, it didn't help you.

Turning right down a street littered with shops, you made sure to stay in the light and away from any allays. You weren't going to take any chances of some creep grabbing you. Maybe it might have been smart to get a taxi after all.

The closing in sound of a motorbike caught your ears, but you didn't pay it any mind. Too focused on wallowing in self pity and getting home. Hearing it slow down, before stopping by the curb caused you to panic a little. Why would someone stop near you, when the street was empty. You decided to pick up the pace, clutching your bag.

It was when a large, calloused hand grabbed your arm, did you jump and make a scared sound. They held onto you tightly when you tried to pull away. Then they pulled you back around, and you were met with concerned baby blues looking at you.

“Hey, it's only me" Benny said in a calm voice.

Hearing his voice you relaxed a little, letting yourself take a few slow breaths to calm your racing heart.

“What are ya doin' walkin' home, let alone, at this time of night, doll?” Benny asked, letting go of your arm to place his hands on your shoulders.

You shrugged. “Seemed like a nice night for a walk?”

Benny gave you a sharp look, not buying your words. “Really, what's goin' on (Y/N)?”

“I told ya” you replied stepping out of Benny's grasp.

“I don't buy it. Tell me what's wrong”.

You sighed, “nothin' alright. I am fine, perfectly peachy”.

He groaned. “There’s that damned word again”.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What, peachy?” – Benny nodded – “it's a perfectly acceptable word".

He chuckled. “Yeah, you like to use it when you're upset. So what is it this time? Is it the woman at the bar?”

You stood there silent for a moment, processing your response. But from the lack of reply, Benny got his answer.

“No, not at all. You're free to spend your free time with whom ever ya like” was what you went with. Not a very strong reply, but its all you got.

Benny laughed loudly. “Jealously sure is a cute colour on you".

Your shot him a dark look, moving your hands to rest on your hips. “I am not jealous Benjamin Cross! Far from it!”

With that you turned on your heel and started to storm off, leaving Benny to laugh some more. But upon realising you were seriously annoyed, he took off after you. He tried to get to you to stop, even offered to give you a ride home. Which you refused.

“Come on, it's quicker and safer if I get ya home” Benny stated, following closely.

“I'm fine. I'd say its more worrisome to be with a Vandal” you retorted.

That hurt Benny. And it was a low blow, you know. But he irked you. So, your words were justified.

“Come on, please let me take ya home” Benny sighed, before he got a bad idea. “The quicker I get ya home safely, the quicker I can get back to the bar and that woman".

That was it. You stopped, before turning around in a flash. Anger and hurt shone in your eyes.

“If its that so important go back now! I said I am fine!” You said with a raised voice. “She seemed to like ya too, from how she was practically in ya arms or in ya lap! Don't mind me, I'm just stupid to think I stood a damn chance. But, like usual, I am-”

You didn’t get to finish your rant. For Benny – amused by your dummy spit – grabbed your arm and pulled you in, his lips silencing you with a kiss. He moved his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. You were in shock. Benny was kissing you. He kissed you to stop you from talking.

He pulled back, looking down at you from under his eyelashes. “Ya good?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it. How does one speak after that? But your eyes told him that you were trying to wrap your head around what just happened. He saw shock, confusion and a small flicker of hope.

“What-why?” You sputtered out.

Benny chuckled, moving his hand so he could caress your jaw with his thumb. “Ain't it obvious? I kissed ya".

“W-why?!” You choked out.

Benny found this version of you amusing and adorable. “Because I wanted too, I’ve wanted to for weeks now. But I've been afraid too".

You looked into Benny's eyes, trying to work out why he would be afraid. So you asked that question. Waiting with baited breath for his answer.

“I was worried ya didn't like me, like I like ya, doll” he said softly. “But seein’ your reaction to Angela" – so that's the raven vixens name, you thought – “I got my answer; ya do".

You titled your head, giving him a sharp look. “Yeah, well...you could be wrong".

Benny chuckled, running his thumb down your lips. Letting it linger, pulling down your bottom lip. “Oh, I know I'm right. And if I was to kiss ya again, I know for a fact, you’ll kiss me back, doll".

“Ha. Try me” you retorted, a challenge.

With a small smirk, Benny moved in and captured your lips once. This kiss was harder. His hand holding your chin, as his tongue swept along your bottom lip. Without a thought, you opened your mouth, giving him victory. Benny's tongue entered, finding your tongue and caressed it with his own. He didn't waste time deepening this kiss, both of you had wanting this for so long.

Eventually Benny pulled back, you chasing his lips. He laughed at how kiss drunk you were. The way you opened your eyes and looked up at him, had him wanting to groan from how good that looked on you. He continued to caress your jaw with him thumb, as he rested his head against your forehead.

“I was right” he sighed. “Firstly, jealously does look good on you” – you softly scoffed – “And secondly, I was right ya would kiss me back”.

“Yeah, yeah...” you mumbled.

Benny pulled back with a chuckle. “Come on, let's get out of here".

With that you let Benny pull you to his bike. Once he was on and the bike was running, Benny helped you on to sit behind him. Settled in and your arms around his waist, be pulled away from the curb. No intention to take you home yet. For now, he wanted to spend time with his girl. Time he didn't get earlier.

[lilithofpenandbook]

Sometimes Severus comes up to Minerva. Right up behind her when she's busy. He'll stand there for a good minute as she works on marking assignments and cursing the boy's youthful energy and brilliant eyes- both of which directly responsible for his finishing his work in half the time it takes her.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva sighs. Might as well get the obligatory nonsense over and done with, she was due a dose of Severus's antics by now (Merlin forbid he go more than three days without bothering her with nonsensical questions or infuriating wit).

"Am I ugly, Minerva?" he asked. Never there was a being with such innocence in their voice.

Minerva took a moment to take in a breath and silently call on all her patience and all her strength. "Yes, very." Her tone was blunter than the knives used to decorate at Halloween- an incident with some particularly idiotic third years had them ban anything sharper than the corners of a book during the Halloween celebrations.

Severus gasped as if stabbed. "What? Minerva, I thought we were friends!"

Minerva snorted. "Any time we interact, it's completely against my will."

"Minerva! you lie so shamelessly it shocks me." Severus made as if to swoon, a hand clutching the right of his chest.

"You must be shocked; your heart isn't where it should be."

Honestly, Minerva had to admire the fact that the insolent little kitten did not falter in his dramatics with her pointing out the key flaw in his act. If anything, he seemed to be encouraged.

"Ay! The pain of the shock, it has spread throughout my chest! Ah, I cannot breathe!" Severus swayed on his feet, leaning against the chair that Minerva was sitting in. "Oh, how your lie shocks me!"

"Well, then, you had better tell me what exactly I lied about," Minerva said briskly, "before you gasp all the air out of your skinny little lungs, laddie."

"You said," the boy said, a sudden glint in his eye and none of the apparent weakness, standing to face her and one of those long, delicate fingers pointed straight at her, "you said, that our interactions are without your will."

"That is no lie, what part of this looks like it's my will?" Minerva replied, knowing full well she wasn't going to appreciate the cheeky answer Severus had prepared for her.

"Why, the part where you remain for my company, mother," Severus replied, his voice light. "Surely, if you didn't want this, you would have, in your infinite wisdom, simply have employed your great power and assumed your famous feline form and just walked away from me."

Minerva fought her smile. His cheek was infuriating while his logic impeccable. "Perhaps I am simply conversing my energy, you arrogant wee rascal."

"You? Too lazy to avoid a nuisance?" Severus scoffed. "Minerva, you wound me. Don't you know how I know you? You've done much more to avoid the mildest of annoyances, do you truly think I believe that you are here against your will merely to converse your energy?"

Minerva let him see the flicker of a smile disgusted as a smirk, letting the bothersome raven have a little treat for his cleverness, hinting to him that he had essentially won this particular argument. "At my age you no longer have the patience to waste on annoyances. You learn to value your peace. You will understand that some day, I hope, little one."

"And if I die, my hair still black and my skin still smooth?"

Merlin, did the child have a turn towards the morbid. Minerva ignored the voice in her that told her that this would have been a retort of her own had she been in a similar conversation.

"Then you'll die a fool."

"A fool, perhaps, but my funeral will be the biggest," he replied, moving to sit on her desk and grabbing the biscuit jar. Minerva intercepted, lifting it from his grip and replacing it with a towel. His protests died in his confusion at the towel, and Minerva huffed and began to wipe his hands as if he was a child. She did not trust him to correctly clean his hands after handling goodness knows what when experimenting with his potions and she didn't care if he knew it.

"Aye, and how did you figure that?" she asked.

"Surely if I die young, I shall be the first. Therefore you all will be part of the funeral-"

"What makes you think I would want to attend your funeral, you little rascal?" She let go of his hands, almost satisfied that they weren't contaminated.

Severus ignored her and instead took a biscuit from the jar. "You will all be there, therefore I will have the biggest funeral. If I die old, you all shall be gone, so my funeral will be the smallest."

Minerva tried not to think of how depressing that sounded, how lonely it seemed. For a brief moment she felt guilty for being so old and he so young. She involuntarily could see him in her mind's eye, going through their funerals until he stood alone. She and the others- Rolanda, Pomona, Poppy, even Fillus and Hagrid- they were all of an age, weren't they? They could expect their lives to reach the end around the same time, surely? Severus was but a child next to them, he'd stand alone one day.

Minerva tried to ignore the ache in her chest at the thought of him standing alone. Merlin, no. He was far too young. No.

"You truly are besotted with the morbid and the miserable, you melanchonic masochist," she said, her tone just a trifle too sharp to be a simple retort.

Severus paused, swallowing the biscuit. Then he answered. "Ah, but the morbid is much more fascinating, the forbidden has a certain thrill, dear mother." His voice was a little softer, and his fingers, slightly coated in crumbs, were gentle when he tapped her forehead. He was sorry he upset her.

"You and your thrills," Minerva scolded, "yet you cannot even eat a biscuit without making a mess of yourself." Yet even as she spoke, the hand that she used to swipe the crumbs away, was gentle, almost tender, in its movement. She had quite forgiven him.

How could she remain angry? At this boy who looked at her with a scowl of indignation yet whose deep, dark eyes twinkled with mischief and cleverness and brilliance, who stood taller than her, yes, yet was far more delicate in his build than she had ever been, whose hair was as dark as hers had been in her youth, carelessly falling across his forehead. No, she could not remain angry.

If only he had been in Gryffindor, perhaps then she would have noticed him sooner. Or rather, if only her eyes didn't only open for her Gryffindors. How this boy could ever look at her without resentment and anger, she didn't know. Then again, he had been so incredibly isolated and lonely, was it any wonder he let go of his rightful grudges and instead accepted her friendship?

Minerva blinked as if soot from the fireplace got in her eyes. She didn't want him to notice the tears that almost inevitably formed whenever she thought about him. Who would have thought that she'd cry so much for the little devil?

"I'll leave you to your work, dear mother," Severus said cheerfully, hopping off her desk.

"Aye, after you've cleared out my biscuit jar, you villain" Minerva grumbled, looking into the empty jar. Severus shrugged.

"You ought to see it as a compliment towards your taste, really," Severus said. "But I see I have taken the last of your patience"- for indeed, Minerva looked ready to strangle him- "so I shall take my leave. Good night, my good Headmistress, and may you have peace in the silver embrace of the moon!"

And with a laughing twinkle in his eye and a boyish bow, Severus Snape left the room.

Minerva sighed. She wasn't sure if it was out of relief, or because she may have felt some sorrow at his departure.

The door opened again, and a rather meek Severus poked his head in.

"Er, Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Er." Severus stepped in, looking away from her, walking with the awkward gait of a newborn foal, and the nervousness of a deer. "Er, Minerva?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Am I really ugly, mother?" His voice was a whisper. His raven hair curtained his face, hiding his shame at asking such a pathetic question, and his fingers picked at one of the cuticles of a nail.

Minerva smiled, and walked to him. Softly she brushed the boy's hair out of his face and gently tucked it behind his ear.

"Only as long as you let yourself believe it, dear heart."

[topzsun]

BUTTERFLY EFFECT

── ♡ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

❝ very few can proudly say there are happy with the choices they made that led them to this point. ❞

Your mother always used to say that life revolved around a series of small decisions that escalated into greater things. Your father would argue life is all about coincidences and accidents. You didn’t particularly care for what life is, you just wished you could have a family dinner without meaningless philosophical debates disturbing the table.

Unfortunately, these arguments will resurface in your mind when you are older, standing like a statue as Miwa Kageyama introduced you to her younger brother, the Adonis of Schweiden Adlers, Tobio Kageyama. You try to ponder what decisions and coincidences had led you to pursue hairdressing and have Miwa as your mentor.

“You’ll be attempting your cut on him. It’s a small trim, so there isn’t anything to worry about,” The latter part of her statement seemed to be spoken more towards her sibling, who to his credit, didn’t look too phased about who exactly was going to be holding the scissors to his head. She had whispered to you beforehand that Tobio could have cared less if a monkey was cutting his hair, as long as his hair was “short”. You don’t think it eased your nerves much.

He takes a seat and you drape the gown over his form, fingers trembling as you fasten the velcro. This action that you have done a thousand times before suddenly feels scandalous when it comes to the raven-haired man.

“So did you just want to trim your bangs, and clean up the sides?” You ask. He nods, and you take a quick breath before beginning. Unlike your other clients, the younger Kageyama sits still and silent, his gaze focused on the mirror as you carefully snip at split ends and unwanted hair. The snapping of your scissors is all that fills the empty salon, and you are vaguely aware even Miwa has left for her office, likely having more important things to do than watch your painstaking trimming process.

The moment you finished couldn’t have come sooner, and you step aside to let him have a full view of the finished product.

“Is it alright? Anything you need me to fix up?” You ask cautiously, breath halted as he leans closer to the mirror, lightly brushing his slender fingers against his hand. The lack of change in his expression only worsens your anxiety, until he leans back and simply nods.

“It’s good. Thank you,” For the first time since he arrived, he looks a little shy as you smile widely, and go to unfasten his gown. Within that moment, Miwa walks in from the back room, walking over to appraise your craftsmanship.

“It’s perfect, exactly how I usually cut it,” She compliments, and she turns to her brother with a faint teasing smile on her lips. “Looks like you know who to ask for when I’m too busy.”

You could faint when he simply tilts his head in agreement.

“Congratulations on your match,” You speak through pursed lips, focused on fixing up the back of his hair that has grown over the weeks he had been preoccupied with training. “It was super intense just watching it from the TV. That last rally had me on the edge of my couch.”

“Thanks,” Tobio responds, “It went on longer than I expected it to.”

Over the past year that you have uprooted Miwa from her spot as Tobio’s hairdresser, the excitement of seeing your celebrity crush had dulled, along with your initial nerves. You never would have expected you’d be able to make such casual conversation with the volleyball player while doing something as mundane as cutting hair. With your growing extroversion, Tobio had also begun giving more lengthy responses to your attempts at conversation, and you realise he’s not nearly as intimidating as he seemed on the court and in the media. He was just blunt, almost to a fault, and it reminded you of how Miwa had been when you first began apprenticing under her. The two apples didn’t fall far away from each other.

“You’re playing against MSBY Black Jackals next, right?” You hum, taking a spray bottle as you begin moving on to the next section of hair. “They say that new wing spiker is debuting that match. They called him… Ninja Shoyo I believe?”

While you were positioned behind him, your eyes lifted to the reflection of the mirror, giving you pause when you saw a smug smile stretched across the man’s lips. You think it's criminal how attractive he looks, even if it’s just his competitive side sparking up. You’d like to see that expression on him more.

“Yeah, and we’re going to win,” He says it like a promise, and you whistle lowly, unable to bite back your smile.

“Well, when you say it like that, I’ve got no choice but to root for you, huh?” Your aching shoulders sag in relief when you finish up his trim, Tobio being your last appointment for the day. You remove the gown from around his shoulders with a dramatic flair. “I’ll make sure to tune in.”

There is a sudden lull in conversation where Tobio’s usual “Thanks, see you” would be. You almost call his name in worry when he doesn’t move from the revolving seat until he beats you to the punch.

“You should watch the match in person,” He states resolutely, and you’re taken aback by his sudden proposition. You break into a nervous chuckle, despite how his stare is set firmly on you, and you try to distract yourself by sweeping up the stray hairs on the wooden floor.

“I would, but I’m sure tickets are already sold out by now, no?” You keep your gaze on the floor, your grip around the broom tightening.

“Don’t worry about it,” He counters immediately. “I’ll send you one.”

You lift your head, midnight eyes refusing to leave your figure. Does he even realise the effect he has on you?

“Okay, then I definitely can’t say no,” You offer him a strained smile and you watch him perk up almost instantly.

“Right, uh, that’s good,” As if finally gaining awareness of where he is, he shifts his weight on his other foot. “I’ll see you then.”

He leaves like he entered, in a whirlwind, and even busying yourself with the menial task of cleaning barely distracts you from Tobio, his eyes, and the excitement in them when you had said yes. Amidst your flustered musing, Miwa takes it as her cue to stroll back into the studio, and you’re filled with uncertainty when you find the corner of her lips quirked upwards slyly.

“Lucky you, huh? He must have really wanted you to watch him play,” What she says next makes your heart drop to your stomach. “He doesn’t even invite me to his matches.”

Tobio Kageyama will be the death of you.

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 12 Word Count - 1121

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch! Can I request an Oscar Tully story in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? The reader is a Targaryen (probably just the same age as him and named Jaerra) and has a he-dragon, she flew to Harrenhal to accompany Daemon and then met Oscar and just some cute interactions between them that grew into something. It’s up to how you will write it and can have lots of parts too because I will love it either way. I hope you read this request. Thank you! <33

The dark echos of Harrenhal seem to sicken Daemon the longer he remains, food seems to turn to ashes in his mouth, wine soured, his mind a mess of his own failings and falls.

“I’m surrounded, by witches, and idiots.” He sighed to himself,

Suddenly a familiar sound echoes through Harrenhal’s half-melted halls, the sound of a dragon's triumphant cry. Which caused Daemon to perk up and move quickly for the first time in months. He headed out to the courtyard part of him hopeful to see Syrax across the sky, or perhaps even MoonDancer.

But a deep blue dragon with shimmering white scales fluttered down onto the grass,

“Iēdar lilagon…” he sighed, He approached the dragon glaring down at its rider, “Why did she send you?”

“Because you're causing chaos on your own,” Jaerra answered as she climbed down from her dragon, wearing her tall boots and grey washed-out leather trousers, a deep blue jacket with a high low skirt and dragon clasps down her chest, her long Targaryen blonde hair with a single dark brown streak by her face knotted up into a tight braid.

“I already have enough to deal with,” He sighed,

“Hence why I’m here.” She said pulling off her leather gloves and walking past him, “You’ve been causing enough problems around here, so she thought I’d be best to come. Plus everyone else is far too busy to be your babysitter.”

“Busy!” He said as he followed her,

“Her grace is busy, planning wars and alliances,”

“And what does she think I’ve been doing!”

She rolled her eyes and continued, “Jacaerys is defending his claim at her side -”

“Baela and Rheana?”

“Baela is beside her betrothal, as she should be. Rheana is with Aegon and Viserys in the Vale.”

He sighed, “I’d have taken Corlys before you.”

“He is of far to high priority.” She glared, “You get me. If you’d have been more careful I wouldn’t be needed and I could be patrolling.”

“So that’s what she’s got you doing? Patrolling?”

“Ravens are slow, men even slower. Dragonback is the best way to get sights of our lands and the movements on them.” She explained, “Speaking of which, the riverlords are here.”

“They haven’t-”

“They haven’t arrived yet but they will in an hour, I flew over them.” She answered before she went inside,

“...Fucking-” He sighed following her, “We have an hour, time to change into a gown for the Riverland lords.”

“Alright,” She shrugged, “Off you go, to get dressed.” She glared,

“I meant you.”

“Seems a waste of my time.” she sighed, “We are at war, gowns seem pointless at this point,”

“You are … so much of your mother,” He barked,

She chuckled, “Is that meant to insult me?” She smiled, “I’d rather be a spitting image of my mother… than anything like you.” she spat, “Now let's get this sorted out before we all end up on spikes in Kings Landing.”

Daemon sat at the head of the table in Harrenhalls Grand chamber, Jaerra to his side with two seats between them, as in walked the Lord of the river lands. Jaerra raised an eyebrow given this was not the man from the many lords she saw from Dragonback whom she expected to be the lord. Lord Oscar Tully made his way in dressed in his fine amour, curls messy from his helmet. He simply nodded as a greeting to Daemon and his eyes flicked to Jaerra, he did a double take but focused his eyes forward.

“My condolences on the passing of your grandser.” Daemon spoke, “But the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house. And Lord Paramount of the Riverlands” He explained, “Truly Glorious well done,”

“I did nothing,” Oscar answered,

“Nevertheless, you are here which is the important thing.” Daemon nodded,

“You were quick enough to dismiss me before.”

“You were of no significance to me then.”

Jaerra sighed, rolling her eyes a little.

“Now. I shall have my great host you have a decision to make.” Daemon stood from his chair mostly to avoid the eyes of Jaerra, “Presume it is clear to you which is the right one.”

“You will forgive me, your grace… I am green. In this sort of matter. As you so kindly point out, but it does seem to me that you’ve made rather a mess here.” Oscar explained making sure to meet Daemon's eyes as he walked around him, “Countenancing barbarities in the queen's name.”

Jaerra choked back a small laugh but made no secret of her smile, as she rested her feet on the table,

“Who’s side are you on?” Daemon glared the boy down,

“... The river lands are held together by oaths.” Oscar nodded, “House Tully swore on oath to King Viserys Targaryen, We recognize the authority of the named heir Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen… And your own as her king consort.”

“Good.” Daemon nodded, “Then we should go to face your vassals and you shall call your banners to war,”

“That might be difficult my king,”

“Well… I was told they would come to heal When house tully declared it’s allegiance.”

“That… may be the case,” Oscar nodded, “But it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority, as young as it is.”

“You are no older than my daughter.” Daemon chuckled as his eyes met Jaerra,

“... I’d further follow her than you.”

“Power and control don’t have an age. Merely a mindset.” Jaerra smiled,

Oscar nodded to her, “And there is another problem… they all hate you.” he turned back to Daemon,

“Everyone hates him.” Jaerra spoke up again, “Never stopped him before.”

“I don’t need their love, I need their swords.” Daemon glared,

The two in a deep moment of staring before the door opened,

“You’re grace, My lord, the river lords await. I fear we cannot delay them any longer.”

“Of course,” Daemon nodded, “Come along lord Oscar,”

Oscar nodded and walked out hand on his sword,

“You too.” He demanded to Jaerra,

She sighed setting her feet down on the stone floor and made her way out the door, but turned around as she passed Daemon walking backwards out the door, “I like him.”

“You would.” he glared, forcing her out with him.  

[jedi-luca]

Slave to Love

Summary: You love Natasha and she has your heart and mind in a chokehold. When she leaves you for someone else you find yourself in a dark pit of despair, and only one woman can help you out.

Pairings: past!Natasha x reader, Mystique x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, read at your own risk. Reader has a penis; no pronouns used. Top reader

A/N: I wrote more to this and different versions of you guys like this one and want more maybe I’ll post it 😏

You clutched the glass in your hand watching the way they looked at one another. It made you sick. She was yours. You were both happy what happened? How could you lose her to him? 

“Hey stranger long time no see.” A blonde busty woman appeared by your side taking your attention away from the redhead.

“Raven.” You smirked lustfully towards her.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” She bats her eyelashes at you before pressing herself up against you.

“Furys been sending me on longer missions lately.” You say handing her a drink from the bartender. .

“Another reason you should join the X-Men.” She kinked her brow before taking a gulp. “Although Charles doesn’t have so many party’s as the Avengers do.”

“Yeah well it’s Tony Stark what are we to do.” You chuckled darkly, shaking your head as you downed the rest of your drink.

“Wanna show me your room?” Raven bit her lip rubbing her hands against your abdomen.

“We shouldn’t.” You sighed. 

“Come on Y/N you know you can’t resist me.” She husks near your ear. “Or I guess I should say Talia.”

You gulped, closing your eyes, missing the way Natasha looked over Bruce’s shoulder towards you.

You opened your eyes seeing Raven, and not the Russian beauty who owns your heart. You quickly spun her around walking the two of you out of the party.

“Well, it seems like Y/N’s finally moved on.” Bruce smiles at your retreating form.

Natasha remained silent this time she was the one gripping her glass. She was the one feeling her heart ache.

“That’s good right?” Bruce smiled, wrapping an arm around her. Suddenly she felt sick. “Maybe now she’ll finally let you go.” 

“I think I’m gonna call it a night.” She says a few minutes later. Before rushing to the bathroom hurling her heart out.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“You know what I want.” You gruff managing to drag her to your room before loosening your tie; by the time you shut the door and turn around. Raven is now Natasha. 

Raven knew this was a bad idea, but truthfully she ached for you to be inside of her. She didn’t love you per se, but when you treated her as if she were the Black Widow herself; it made her feel something. All of your misplaced feelings were directed towards her, and in some weird sadistic way she craved it.

“I’ve missed you daddy.” 

Rubbing your chest she rips open your shirt letting the buttons fly everywhere. Your kiss is heated but not sloppy as she unhooks your belt. Pushing your boxers down. You lift her up against you spinning around before landing auain’t the mattress.

“Have you missed me?” Natasha’s voice is like velvet, it makes you twitch against her lips.

“Daddy missed you too princess.” You sighed as she began sucking on your second head. “I’ve missed you so much.” You moan loudly as she bobs her head locking her eyes with yours. You bite your bottom lip when she slaps your meat against her lips.

“Come here angel.” You watch as she crawls up your body. She moans when you stick your tongue out licking her body as she slowly makes her way to take a seat on your mouth.

You hummed at the familiar taste savoring every drip.

“Daddy.” She sighs rocking her hips. She takes your hands using them to rub up her body. A groan escapes her lips as with every swipe of your tongue. “Right there daddy.” She husks rocking a little faster. “You know just how to worship me. Don’t you?”

You groan in response swiping faster.

“That’s it daddy!” She moans tugging your hair as she humps your face. Soon her body is stiff, and her moaning makes you throb. Natasha releases you from her thighs making her way down to your lap. You bring her down for a rough kiss before she sits up.

The doppelganger slides down your hardened cock. She even felt like Natasha. This was beginning to be a slippery slope. Raven was like a drug, just like Natasha. 

“Oh my God daddy.” Her breath hitches and her form falters going from her blonde persona to Natasha to her true blue self. She gasps as your hand suddenly wraps around her throat.

“Change back… Now.” Your once loved filled eyes are now filled with anger.

“Y/N.” She choked, gripping your hands. You felt her thighs grip you before flipping positions. She changed back into Natasha and kept your hand on her throat.

“Talia.” her name fell from your lips as you thrusted your hips.

“Yes moya lyubovʹ I’m here.” she husks

“I love you.” You whispered against her skin. “I love you so much. Why did you leave me?”

The doppelgänger grips you with her thighs once more flipping your positions. The woman above you rocked her hips harder and harder. Raven would whisper words of love as Natasha making you forget for one more night.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

Raven looked over at your sleeping form. She could tell you hadn’t slept in a long time. Whispering her name in your sleep. She gently pushed your hair back leaving a soft kiss on your cheek before rolling you on your side of the bed.

The blonde placed her clothes on before grabbing her heels and quietly walking out the door. Immediately she ran into the redhead herself. Raven smirked looking the Russian up and down before mimicking her pose. 

If she only knew. Raven thought to herself.

“Got something on your mind?” Natasha clenched her jaw, raising her brow.

Raven subtly copied her every move she shifted into Natasha. “Nothing at all Romanoff.” She smirked, kinking her brow before strutting past her, and shifting back to her true form.

“Raven.” Natasha muttered watching her strut off. The redhead looked over at your bedroom door when realization hit. You were going to a shape shifter for sex. She felt sick at the thought of you having a look a like and not the real thing. Shaking her head and walking away. She has no right to be jealous. She has no right to feel this way, not when she chose Bruce. Not when she broke your heart. “Fuck.” She muttered to herself thinking of how she made the wrong decision.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

A Golden Rose 🌼 | Alicent Hightower Headcanon

GOT/HOTD Masterlist

Alicent Hightower having a secret relationship with the daughter of Lord Tyrell would involve:

Becoming a lady-in-waiting to the young queen early on in her marriage to King Viserys after you were sent to King's Landing upon the request of his Grace. Leaving the Reach and your family for the capitol, where you would remain indefinity. You'd only been in the proximity to the royal couple once on the day of their wedding, though you never exchanged words. It came as a surprise when two years later at ten and seven the raven arrived to accompany the Queen as she nears the end of her term. Pending the birth of her second child.  

It was pretty much love at first sight for Alicent, who was drawn to your beauty and personality. The sharp wit and charm of a Tyrell, you had her a blushing mess nearly every day. Alicent requesting your company more often rather than all her ladies. Pretty much leaving them to the winds. You didn't mind. In fact, you relished in the attention. 

You clocked onto her affections early on, not blind to her lingering gazes, soft smiles, and how her eyes drew to you each time she entered a room. Walking closely beside you, while the other ladies trailed behind. It only took four months for you to confront her, as you developed strong feelings for the Queen and no longer had the strength to keep them hidden. "My Queen, forgive me for speaking freely, but I cannot go another day with us not saying what we so desperately want. I know what you feel for me, and I want you to know I feel the same." 

Yeah, she was a goner. Her heart soaring with happiness...and fear. Of course you two could not explore a relationship openly. She was married--to the damn King! And you were a lady-in-waiting expected to marry a nobleman or knight. If anyone found out about your relations, you'd be exiled or facing the sword. Alicent surely would face the King's wrath, and neither of you wanted to picture that. 

So, you both did what you had to do: you loved in secret. Behind closed doors and wondering eyes. Gifts of sentiments on namedays, brushing hands when passing teacups, seeking one out in a crowded room, walks in the garden. Anonymous notes of admiration, kisses at night when the Keep was asleep. Reading to each other in the library, picking flowers to put in the other's hair. Saving sweets from lunch and supper to share later on in your chambers. And on most nights, you'd run your fingers through Alicent's soft hair to lull her to sleep.

The love you shared blossomed like the golden rose that represented your house. Growing stronger by the years. You and Alicent had the biggest secret in all of Westeros. One you would go to war to protect. 

Viserys was always occupied with King duties and entertaining his council to see what his wife was up to. Otto kept a close eye, and you often felt his suspicious gaze on you at events, but never once did he comment. Though you'd never admit it to Alicent, you were grateful when he was dismissed as Hand. It was one less person you had to worry about. The maids and guards turned a blind eye, all except Criston Cole. Once he became Alicent's sworn protector, he followed you two like a dog on a leash. And when he did catch you two in a compromising position roughly a year after she had Aemond, Alicent made him swear on his life to be silent. 

Rhaenyra was....complicated. For one you knew of her friendship with Alicent prior to her marriage to the King, and the love they shared for each other. Admittedly, you were slightly jealous, but got over it once Alicent assured you she no longer harbored those affections for the Princess. Still, you were not Rhaenyra's biggest fan. Her behavior and comments toward Alicent had you fuming, but you remained calm in the presence of others. Once she finally married and had children you were pleased.

Speaking of children, you were close to Alicent's sons and daughter, despite hating Viserys for putting her through four pregnancies and treating her like a broodmare after what he did to Queen Aemma. The resentment towards the King only heightened when he seemed to forget about the children he sired, preferring Rhaenyra and her sons. Daeron was sent to Oldtown young, leaving the older three, who you helped Alicent raise.

As the children grew up, they were not blind to your relationship. Why their mother always broke fast with you and invited you to the table at supper. Why she asked for your opinion on certain things. How she ordered golden roses to be planted in the gardens of the Keep on your 19th nameday when you mentioned feeling homesick. The fact there was always your favorite pastries at banquets. And when she went to light a candle in the sept, you were right there with her. You were dressed in the finest silks compared to the other ladies-in-waiting. 

Where they confused in the beginning? of course they were. They didn't understand why their mother was more devoted to you than their father. Why Alicent's eyes sparked when looking at you, much like when she looked at them, instead of the King. But they never once spoke of it. Understanding there was a deep affection between the two of you that the realm would never accept. 

Yet when the dragons danced years later as the kingdom split between Greens and Blacks, the history books would write about the Hightower that bloomed with golden roses. Why Highgarden did not hesitate to raise their banners in support of King Aegon II Targaryen. Covering the southern lands that would further weaken Rhaenyra's defense. Making the Princess and her council realize their mistake of undermining the influence you had on the Alicent.

For a rose is so beautiful to the eye, one forgets about its thorns.

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven Chapter 12: Funeral Pyre and New Beginnings

Chapter Summary: As the Targaryen, Velayrons, and Blackwoods say goodbye to Prince Jacaerys, a new life begins. A baby for House Blackwood and Targaryen. A new rider for Seasmoke.

Tags: Child birth, funeral

Word count: 3.8k

Taglist: @callsignwidow @whimsicalmystic02 @mercedesdecorazon @rhaenyrathecruelwithteats @ithilwen-blackwood @poppyflower-22 @alastorhazbin

(please let me know if I missed someone)

Keep track of the story: Masterlist

Wails of pain rang out throughout the halls of Dragonstone. Maids and servants go in and out of Princess Aemma's birthing chamber. The princess lay on the bed, sweating, her hair messy and knotted. As she took haggard breaths in between sobs, she tried her best to push her child out of her body, but no matter how much she did, they would not come. Her Grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, with tears running down her face, tried as best she could to comfort her sea dragon, but to no avail. 

“Please…please… I want him…please,” begged Aemma, reaching her hand out for the person she was looking desperately looking for. 

Elinda sobs as she turns away, memories of Rhaenyra’s tragic birth of Visneya coming back to her mind. Her Queen and Princess, history repeating itself. She could only pray that the gods would be merciful this time to help the princess give birth to her child. 

“My princess, he will come soon. You must push for your son,” the midwife pleaded, unsure if she was talking about her child or her husband. Poor child, the midwife thought. 

Aemma just sobbed more, trying her best to be strong, and gave another weak push before the midwives made her stop, telling her to rest for a while. All were getting worried; it had been nearly ten hours and nothing. As Rhaenys moved the hair from her granddaughter's face, Aemma turned to her; her heart broke even more from seeing her in such a state. 

Rhaenys turned and quietly asked a servant if she knew where the queen was. The servant girl answered, saying the queen was still with the prince’s body. Rhaenys exhaled through her nose. She could not imagine being Rhaenyra and choosing where to be with her daughter or son. She nodded to the girl and focused again on Aemma, leaning in to hear what the princess was whispering. 

Aemma turned to her grandmother, grasping at her hand when another wave of pain hit her, trying her best not to push since the midwives told her to hold in. She quietly began to whisper.

“Please, bring him to me…” pleaded Aemma, her brows creasing from the pain. 

“Who sweet, girl… who are you asking for…” Pondered Rhaenys, looking for answers as the princess gave a loud groan of pain. 

Groaning, Aemma raised her voice into a scream: " Him… jace… Luke… BEN… I WANT THEM HERE……AH!” 

Aemma could no longer hold it; she needed to push. Raising her body, she pushed with all her might, pleading for her babe to get out. Still, nothing came as the princess flopped herself to the bed, exhausted. Rhaenys, feeling helpless, began to shout to the midwives and the maesters to find something, a drink, an herb, or a technique to help the princess. 

In the corner, she silently stood, Baela, watching her step-sister struggle to bring life into the world. She could not help but feel in awe of Aemma’s strength she was displaying given the circumstances. Even if it didn’t look like it, to keep pushing and not giving up, she didn’t know if she would have been able to if she was in her position. Seeing Aemma plead again, Baela decided she needed to help, and the only way she could think about was to bring Benjicot faster to Dragonstone. Baela pushed through the crowd, ignoring the protests as she leaned into Aemma’s ear, whispering her plan. Aemma panted, looking at her, and with a weary smile, she nodded, encouraging Balea to run out of the room. 

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Rhaenyra was silent, crying on her son’s cold chest. Jacaerys’ body was moved to his chambers, and a few maids volunteered to prepare the prince’s body for his funeral pyre. As Rhaenyra mourned, her heart clenched with every wail she heard coming from Aemma’s birthing chamber. She was torn; she wanted to be there for her little girl, but her body would not move. As she took another shaky breath, a servant came in quietly. She whispered to her Queen that the maesters were becoming worried for Princess Aemma’s health. She was getting weaker and weaker as the hours progressed, with no sign of her babe coming out. They wanted to consult with the queen for the next course of action. 

This made Rhaenyra's blood freeze; surely they wouldn’t dare to advise her… she would never do what her father did to her mother…Never. Becoming angry, Rhaenyra asked the maids to prepare her son as she hurried down the hall into Aemma’s chambers. Rhaenyra recoiled at the scent of blood coming out of the room.  She nearly sobbed, seeing her darling girl suffering, pushing her way to her daughter’s side. She quickly kissed her brow, letting her know she was finally here for her daughter. 

Aemma whimpered as her mother kissed her brow; she was terrified. 

“Muna…please…I can’t do it anymore…I… I don’t want to die…” cried Aemma, closing her eyes in despair as her mother hushed her. 

“Don’t speak like that, my pearl, you will not die… you are the blood of the dragon…you are fierce and strong.” comforted Rhaenyra, sorrowful as she saw her daughter shake her head. 

“I heard the maesters… they fear…my babe could die…please help me, Muna,” slurred the princess, her chest falling up and down heavily. 

Rhaenys and Rhaenyra glared at the maester, who started sweating at the sight of the intensity of the purple eyes. 

Rhaenyra kissed her daughter’s crown, turning her face as she spoke, “Yes, you can. You are Crown Princess Aemma Velayron of Houses Targaryen and Velayron. You have the Blood of Old Valyria. You do not hide from battle but go headfirst to protect those you love. This is a different battle, but nonetheless, this is a battlefield we women face at one point in our lives. You must track through this battle with the confidence and strength of a dragon. Your babe is ready to come into this world. They felt your sorrow and wanted to comfort you. I will be here, and I know I am not who you wish to be on your side right now, but when your babe finally enters, I will gladly place them in your arms. You both will survive this battle, so when I say go, you will take a great inhale and push with all your might.” 

Aemma nodded at her mother, feeling a new strength come over her. As Rhaenyra commanded her, she inhaled, pressing all her might, letting out a gruntle yell, and began pushing again. 

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Benjicot was anxious, but he couldn’t pinpoint the reason why. He just woke up with the sensation. He felt that maybe Harrenhal was starting to affect him, but he also thought it might be that he had yet to receive a raven back from Aemma. It was not like her to wait too long to reply to his ravens. Aly tried to calm him, claiming that Aemma might have been busy or too tired to respond as quickly as before. As he tried to convince himself, he couldn't help but let his mind wander. Benji was breaking his fast with his good father, Cregan, and his aunt. He thought he heard dragon wings in the distance as he pushed his food around. When a servant came running in, holding a raven for Daemon. Demon slowly raised his head, looking tired again, and opened the letter. Before the Rouge Prince could start reading, Baela burst into the hall, causing everyone to stiffen. 

Daemon stood shocked, “Daughter, why are-”

Baela shook her head, tears streaming down her face; she turned to Benjioct, whose heart dropped to his stomach. Did something happen to Aemma? 

“Ben, you need to come with me quick, Aemma… she is struggling to give birth, and Jace-” Baela couldn’t finish her sentence as a sob ripped out of her throat. 

Benjicot stood with such force, his chair banging on the floor, that he ran to Baela, grabbed her arms, and shook her. 

“What happened? Aemma is not due yet, so why does Jacaerys have to do with her giving birth?”

“Benjicot, unhand her!” cried Aly as she ran and separated her nephew from the lady. 

She understood him and was worried for the princess, but getting upset at Lady Baela would not answer anything. 

Daemon looks at the scene in front of him, nearly wanting to slice the Blackwood lord for roughing handling his daughter. When he glanced at the letter that burned to be opened and read, it was from Dragonstone; quickly, he opened the letter, his blood running cold as he read. Jace was dead, and Aemma, in her anguish, began her births early. His son was dead, and his daughter was fighting for her and her child’s life. His dragons… Daemon shouted angrily as he slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone to pause, looking at the King Consort in fear. 

Swirling, he faces his daughter with grief-stricken disbelief. Baela sucked in a short breath, knowing that her father now knew what was happening to their family. She nodded in confirmation to her father. 

Daemon was conflicted about leaving Harrenhal and possibly giving the greens the advantage over the Riverlands or going to his family in their most dire need. Baela saw her father’s internal battle, but she did not care; if he wanted to contemplate what he believed was more important, he could stay, but Aemma needed her husband. 

“Please, Ben, just come. I’ll explain everything on the way; you just need to go to Dragonstone.” beseeched Baela, hoping he would quickly follow. 

Benjicot nodded as he turned to his aunt, who wordlessly confirmed she would stay and take charge of House Blackwood until his return. His wife and child came first. As Balea and Ben ran out of the hall, ignoring the concerned looks of the men, Baela walked to Moondancer, asking her dragon for this once to allow a second passenger. As the dragon gazed at the lord, Benji stood cautiously. He wanted to get to his wife fast, but he knew better than to rush to a dragon unless he wanted to risk being decapitated. Moondancer crawled his body to the lord, analyzing Benji and sniffing, judging if he should be allowed. After a moment, Moondancer lowered his body, permitting Baela and Benjicot to climb him. Quickly, the two sat themselves, Baela noticing Caraxes going to the entrance of the ruined fortress, with a figure running towards the long-necked dragon. Giving the command, Moondancer soared into the air, flying as fast as he could to Dragonstone. 

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Back at the castle, Rhaenyra and Rhaenys grinded their teeth through the pain in their hands. Aemma had a death grip on them as she continued to push. Both women guided her breathing to ensure she placed the correct energy in her pushing. The midwives started expressing joy to the Targaryen women; the babe's head was out, and two more pushes should be enough to bring the child out of the princess's body. 

Rhaenyra sobbed in relief. She turned to Aemma, “You are so close ñuha prūmia, nearly there, two more pushes.” 

Aemma nodded as she breathed in; she raised her body again and gave a push, feeling some tension slowly releasing, everyone around her expressing joy; her babe was almost here. As she prepared for her final push, she began to hear Sliverwing, Syrax, Vermithor, and Seasmoke singing. All dragons were feeling the emotions of their riders. With one final yell, the tension was released. The midwives' relieved cheers resounded through the air as a small whimper leading into a wail lifted the hearts of those in the room. 

“A boy, my princess! A beautiful boy!” celebrated Elinda Massey, who handed the baby to Rhaenyra. 

Rhaenyra let tears flow down her cheeks; she was a grandmother. Her heart broke slightly as she took in the baby’s features. He looked so much like Lucerys, Jacaerys, and Joffrey when they were born. She kissed the babe’s crown, turning to her tired daughter. 

Aemma was leaning on pillows stacked behind her back, and seeing her mother’s tears also made her emotional. Her boy was here, but not his father. She felt guilty that Benji missed their son's birth, but as the baby was placed in her arms, she thought it was worth it. He was perfect; he had lighter skin than hers, and Ben’s beautiful dark hair seemed to want to curl like hers and her brother’s. As she caressed his face, her baby opened his eyes, purple staring at purple. Aemma grinned as she kissed her son's forehead, causing the baby to sigh and snuggle to his mother’s chest. 

Outside the window, Seasmoke passed the room, chirping and singing. The dragon knew his rider was finally in the world. Aemma tearily grinned, hearing her father’s now son’s dragon coming to greet her son. As she let Rhaneys take him to the window for Seasmoke to see. Aemma finally let herself grieve. Yes, she was happy her son was alive and in her arms, but her brother was gone. Her brother, who, as a child, expressed how he wanted their children to have a close bond like siblings. Her brother, who confessed to her a moon ago, would petition to marry Baela quickly because he and Baela wanted to give a cousin to her son. 

She barely accepted that Luke wouldn’t be here, and now she had to admit that Jace wouldn’t either. She cried for her sweet brothers. The world was too cruel for them. They could not help the circumstances of their birth or their hair color. She knew the rumors about Ser Harwin and her mother but did not care. Jacaerys and Lucerys were her brothers; Laenor raised both. That was all that should have mattered, but a bitter green queen ruined everything. Now, because of her and her poisoned words, her brothers were gone. 

Rheanyra, seeing her daughter’s tears, hugged her, hushing and comforting her.

“I know, sweet girl, I wish they were here too,” she whispered as she kissed her cheek. 

Aemma weakly smiled at her mother, taking her baby back from her grandmother. As she began to feed him, she turned back to them. 

“I wish to see him…” Aemma muttered. 

Rhaenyra and Rhaenys share a look. They knew she would want to see Jace, but she should not put too much strain on herself, not after such hard labor. 

Rhaenys sighed, “I know, but you will need to wait. You had a difficult labor, and your body is still weak. Let your body rest and bond with your boy. Then we will help you see your brother. Nothing will be done until Baela returns,” Rhaenys assured her as she combed her granddaughter's hair. 

Aemma sighed, knowing they were right. Feeling tired, she asked her mother to keep her son safe. Laying down, while closing her eyes, she wished Ben was here. 

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After a day, two dragons arrived in Dragonstone, with three people jumping off and running to the castle. As Ben burst into the castle, making a maid jump in fright, he quickly apologized, asking her where Princess Aemma was. The maid answered that the whole family was in Prince Jacaerys chambers. Nodding, he followed his good father and Baela to Jace’s room. As the guard opened the door, they saw a melancholy sight. Aemma was sitting to Jace’s right, holding a red and black bundle in her arms. Rhaenyra is behind her daughter, leaning on the wall with her eyes closed. To the left were Corlys and Rhaenys, with Rhaneys humming a lullaby, staring at Jace.  In the foot of the bed stood Addam and Alyn Velayron with their heads bowed.

 Hearing the chambers open, Aemma raised her sight, gasping at the people. Everyone turned and nodded at the three. Ben first moved to his wife, stopping to bow to his good mother before turning to Aemma, kneeling in front of her. Aemma smiled at him, looking at him with love and grief. 

“You’re finally here…” whispered Aemma, leaning into her husband’s kiss, making sure not to squish their son. 

Benji gave another kiss and apologized for not being at her side sooner, which Aemma waved off; he couldn’t have known. As she moved slightly back, she rose from her seat, telling her mother she would take a walk with Benjicot. As the queen nodded, Ben took hold of his wife and left the Prince’s room. As they walked out to the courtyard, Ben stared at his son. He had a son; looking at him, he couldn’t tell if he looked more like him or Aemma. 

Aemma, seeing his gaze, smiled and kissed her son’s cheek, making the baby stretch and open his eyes. The baby stared at his father for the first time. As Ben took in his son’s eyes, he rejoiced; he had hoped their children would inherit Aemma’s eye color. Expressing his thoughts, Aemma let out a quiet giggle. 

“He may have my eyes, but he is pure Blackwood, just like his father,” Aemma explained happily. She loved how, every day, her son looked more and more like Ben. Of course, there were a few differences, mainly in his hair texture; her son was graced with her curls. 

As the princess handed her son to Ben, Seasmoke sang again, landing in the quiet courtyard with as much grace as a dragon could have. Crawling to the small family, he sniffed Benjioct briefly before turning his head to their son. The babe turned his purple eyes to the grey dragon, his face scrunching as he yawned, snuggling further into his father’s arms. 

Aemma smiled, “I fear we will never be able to separate them once he is older.” 

Benji smiled; he did not mind if it meant his boy would always be protected. As the family and dragon stood in tranquility, Aemma turned to Benji. 

“He needs a name; I did not want to give him one without your input.” 

Benjicot smiled at her, touched by how much she thought of him. He hummed while looking at his son; he would once ask for him to be named after his twin, Davos, but looking at him now. His son did not seem like a Davos. As he suggested Jacaerys or Lucerys, Aemma teared up, shaking her head. 

“No, he doesn’t look like a Jace or Luke…I don’t think I could name my child after my brothers, at least not yet… it's too soon.” 

Benji smirked slightly, teasing his wife, “But maybe one day if we have more children.” 

Aemma flushed at her husband’s teasing, “I will have all the children you wish to give me, my love. I will proudly carry them as long as my body permits me to.” 

Benji groaned at his princess's words, kissing her lips. If only she knew how much power she had over him. He would give every babe she desired from him. Smiling into his kiss, the dragon princess separated herself, returning to the question of names. 

Trying to remember the names he briefly read from a Valyrian book here, he remembered one that he felt could still honor Jace. 

“What about Jaesys… it still a unique name while honoring your brother?” said Benji, looking at his wife’s reaction. 

Aemma’s eyes widened to her son, Jaesys; she liked the name. Touched by Ben's always-considerate nature, she smiled and agreed. Jaesys Blackwood, first of his name, heir to House Blackwood and the scion of houses Velayron and Targaryen. 

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After Aemma and Benjicot left, everyone else besides the queen departed to prepare for the Prince’s funeral. Walking to his son, seeing his ghostly color and closed eyes, Daemon wanted to rage; another of his boys was lost to those greens. In the background, Rhaenyra stared at her husband, wishing she could understand his thoughts. She was upset with him yes, but it did not mean she stopped loving him. Walking to sit next to her son, she saw Daemon walk closer to her. He kneeled infront of her as he took Jace’s hand, crying at the loss. 

Here was another reason she loved him: even if he did not sire them, Daemon loved every single one of her children from her first marriage, taking them as his own and loving them as fiercely as he did with his daughters from Laena. Both parents closed their eyes, mourning their dutiful and caring son. 

Rising, he gazed at his wife. Daemon stood, kissing her on her cheek, making Rhaenyra look at him. 

“I love you…” he stated, taking a loose strain in his hands. 

Rhaenyra tearfully smiled at her husband, “I love you.” she assured him. 

She did love him; she was just upset at his actions. He was rash, doing things he meant to show as a sign of his love and protection without seeing the more immense consequences. Nevertheless, she loved him; he was her blood-bonded husband and twin flame, always burning for each other. 

“They will pay for this… the greens-” 

“Shh…” interrupted Rhaenyra, taking her husband’s head to her chest as they both began to cry again. She knew this was his way of grieving, but they would not talk about revenge, not today. Today was just about saying goodbye to their son. 

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Houses Blackwood, Targaryen, and Velayron stood by the cliff, looking at the pyre holding Prince Jacaerys’ body. Daemon and Rhaenyra were at the front, with Aemma, Baela, Jaesys, and Benjicot at the queen’s side. Ben was holding the babe as Aemma and Balea leaned onto each other. Corlys, Rhaneys, Addam, and Alyn at Daemon’s side. All were looking at the prince with sadness. Corlys looked to his family, clearing his throat; he would be the one to give the speech before someone lit the pyre. 

“Prince Jacaerys was a true prince. He knew the hardships of duty and never faltered from them. He knew what he needed to do to support his family, fighting bravely for them. But he was more than that; he loved fiercely. His duty was based on love. Everyone here was touched by his love in some shape and form. We mourn the kind, respectful, honorable, loving, and fierce prince. We hope his family that has passed will greet him in the Realm of Balerion. May his soul rest.” 

Everyone bowed their heads with tears streaming down their faces. As they turned to Rhaenyra, she sobbed, closing her eyes. She couldn’t do it… she could not light this pyre had she not done it enough times already. As they all saw her struggle, Aemma walked forward, her eyes red from crying. She looked at all the dragons present: Sliverwing, Vermithor, Grey Ghost, Caraxes, Syrax, Seasmoke, and Moondancer. All dragons stared at her, gulping at their power; she turned back to her brother’s body, Whispering the words Dracarys. 

A beat passed, and then all gasped as Seasmoke walked up first, blowing a short flame to the pyre. Leanor’s dragon said goodbye, and as Seasmoke stepped back, each dragon took turns stepping up and breathing more fire into the pyre, ending with Syrax. As the golden lady finished sending her flames, she screeched, leading the other dragons to screech, all seemingly mourning like their riders for the Dragon Prince. 

Daemon stared at the flames as he whispered, “He was a true dragon.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

-Wanna Feel Your Skin.

A/n: I apologize if this sucks and if I left you off the tag list. But really on so sorry if it sucks.

Warnings: P in the V, teasing, creampie, biting, rough sex, aftercare, sex pollen. { everything is consensual ,Female reader.

Tag List:

@jeremy-is-heere , @cuti3pie4u , @yeojoongiee , @the-abyss-of-fandoms , @hrefna-the-raven , @msghostface , @lunamomos

Inspirations:

[ CLAIM ] our muses are arguing because receiver is worried and overprotective of sender, but when they get up in each other’s faces they end up kissing and groping at each other.

Song: Skin- Rihanna

Song 2: Dangerous Woman- Ariana Grande

Heat, it’s all he was feeling. Heat and want.

Leon didn’t understand what was happening to him, why he was feeling like this, why he wanted you so badly.

He had to push down, he couldn’t focus on that! He can’t shouldn’t be focusing on wanting to fuck you.Gritting his teeth he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He didn’t know what the fuck he got injected with but right now his priorities was to find Ashley and make sure that you stay safe in the process.

And of course she had to show up, Leon knew how much Ada pushed your buttons. She knew his feelings for you despite him never telling you.

“It would be so easy Leon, to just give in to your desires…I don’t think she’ll complain.”

Leon wanted to say something, he tried to open his mouth but that scuffle had riled him up. He could feel his pulse pounding under his skin, his heart racing.

Working his jaw Leon did his best to focus on what Ada saying but then you stepped closer, your hand placing its self on his forearm. He wanted to shrug you off. The rational part in his brain begging him to push you away. It was coming to a point where he couldn’t even hear your voices anymore.

“Why the hell are you here.”It’s not like you hated the woman per say, you knew the shit she did yet that wasn’t the reason why you held so much hate for her, you hated how much she flirted with Leon. That he seemed to hold something for her. You hated how jealous you felt but you knew you could never admit it out loud. What was the point in admitting your feelings only to be turned down.

Ignoring your question, Ada tipped her head to the side watching the man stumble towards the table. His nails digging into the wood, chest heaving. She wondered if this might be the push you both needed. She was honestly getting tired of watching you both dance around each others feelings.

“You should take care of our dear Boy Scout. Don’t think he’ll last much longer.”

Turning away from Ada you gasped seeing Leon hunched across the table, he didn’t look good and at the moment you could careless Ada being gone.

“Leon! Shit you’re burning up.” Pressing your hand to his head you tried to think what might be wrong.

God why did you have to stand so close to him, why did you have to smell so good. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to drown out your voice, tried to tell you to leave but nothing game out but a strangled groan, he could feel his blood rushing south. Something he did not want to happen.

“Don’t tell me you’re all worked up about her Leon.God I don’t understand why you’d even having feelings for that woman.”

Pushing away from the table he took a few steps away from you nearly tripping. He wanted, wanted you badly and he was scared what might happen if he’d act on his impulse.

“Really Y/n…you think I have feelings for her? Christ you’re smart but I didn’t think you’d be blind. How can’t you see that.” Gritting his teeth he snapped his neck towards you. “You don’t see they I have feelings for you?”

“What?” You we’re so quite he wasn’t sure how he picked it up and right now he didn’t care, he never meant for the words to spill past his lip this. He hated how desperate he sounded.

A small rumble escaped his lips, he didn’t know what made him snap. Maybe it was the pent up feelings or how you were looking at him but he wanted you, he wanted you now and the next thing you knew your body was being pinned to the small table. Leon’s hands on your hips. You tried not to shudder feeling his hardness pressing into you. His lips finding yours, you did your best to return the kiss until he broke it.

His face hiding against your neck, his fingers skimming your bare skin as they slid under the shirt you were wearing. “Please…please you need to leave.I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

Sinking your teeth in your lip you let your fingers run down the back of his neck. “Then take me Leon…please…I want this.”

Your voice, your pleading as your legs wrapped around his hips. Your clothes coming off happened bast, to fast in his mind. His hand cupping your breasts, sliding down your hips to your center.

This was his, for his eyes lonely and once he was out of this hellhole he was going to take you right, treat you like a Queen but right now he wants you and he’ll make sure you’d be screaming out his name.

A small whimper escaped your through as he pushed a finger in your warmth, your juices coating his fingers. He couldn’t wait to be within you, to feel you envelope his cock.

“Don’t hold back Leon.Please I want to feel all of you.”

Leon did his best to not to hurt you, his nails digging into your curves as he drew you closer. Your body nearly sliding off the table as he sheathed himself into your warmth.The table groaning underneath you as he continued to thrusts, his hands guiding your hips. You did your best to match Leon’s movements. One hand moving down where you both were joined as he pressed his thumb to your clit.

A cry leaving your lips, your breasts bouncing with head of his hard thrusts.His lips capturing your own as his tongue swirled against your own, your cry’s muffled.

The familiar feeling building in your stomach as your legs tightened around his hips. Your fingers weaving through his freed hand, Leon squeezing it gently. The only sound in the room were the ones of your love making, moans spilling past your lips. Begging for more, a deep chuckle escaping Leons chest as he slowed his pace. His mind clearing of the fog, teasing you.

The tip of his cock brushing your clit as he nuzzled your neck as he moved his hand back to your hips.

“Say my name.”

“Leon…please. Don’t stop.”

Your body tensing as he pushed his cock back into your pussy.

“So good, you feel so good.”

Your first climax hits you the moment Leon pulled out his member. The tip barley grazing your walls. Your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Your body quivering, chest heaving as your arousal dripped down your thighs and on the table below you, waves of pleasure shooting through your body as he thrusted back into you.

“More.”

Picking up the pace, Leon hitched your leg higher on his hips, the new angle making you cry out his name. Your scream echoing the once silent room as pleasure rolls through you.

Then you scream, your throat raw as he continue to thrust.His breaths coming in harsh, burning pants against your cheeks as he continues to fuck you, his hips snapping against yours as his name continued to slip past your lips over and over.

Your head swimming with dazed pleasure, consuming desire. Your blood pounding in your ears as as the table creaked with each force of his thrusts.Another climax building, a feral growl escaping Leon’s throat as you felt the base of his cock start to swell.

“Yes!”You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, feel the pleasure building within you as his thrusts started to become more sloppy.

“Y/n.”He groans out your name, rutting faster, deeper, his thrusts becoming more desperate and with one last, power thrust he slams his shaft within you. Your nails digging into his shoulder as you sobbed out his name.

Leon comes, burying his face in your neck, a shuddering groan of pleasure escaping his lips, his chest pressed against yours. You could feel his heart pounding as your lips found his, your body still shaking with pleasure as he fills you with his seed.You kiss him, slowly, careful as he throbs within you.

His mind free from the fog, everything finally clear as his body finally relaxes.Your fingers now stroking his cheek as he lent against your hand finally coming down from the high.

“I’m sorry…this wasn’t exactly how I wanted our first time to happen but.”

Chucking weakly you ran your feelings through Leon’s hair, the man melting into your touch. Of course the man would revert into his caring self. “Leon. You don’t have to apologize, I mean it’s not the most romantic place but I’m not complaining.” Placing a kiss you his cheek you then gave him a teasing smile. “But next time you want to fuck me, pick a place that’s more comfortable.” You teased.

Snorting Leon captured your lips in for one last kiss before he finally pulled out from your warmth.Watching the cum slipping out of your warmth was stirring something with him, forcing himself to look away he cleared out his throat tugging his pants back up. “Sorry for…tossing your clothes away.”

Blinking, you narrowed your eyes, a smile forming on your lips as you started to put your clothes back on. “How’s that fair that I’m the only one that got naked.”

Once you were finally dressed Leon placed his hands on your hips. “I promise…next time we’ll both be naked.”

“Hmm and I’ll be comfortable.”

Placing his fingers under your chin he forced you to look at him. “You’ll be very comfortable.”

Grinning you gave him another kiss before pulling away. “Good, now before we go and you know rescue Ashley again. How are you feeling?.”

Closing his eyes, Leon clutched your hips. He hummed. “A lot better actually, I love you. I should have said that in the beginning.”

“I love you too Leon.”

[arc-misadventures]

Are We Even Human Anymore?

Class B, Spartan, Jaune Arc was walking down a road on the island of, Patch. He looked to his side to see a a few buildings that had gouges carved into the wood, a result of the recent, Grimm attack that had just took place. Luckily, Jaune, and the rest of team was already here to conduct standard routine patrol of the island to weed out any pockets of, Grimm.

He walked by, rifle in hand as he eyed the islands local militia, and members of the, Vale Republic Guard. Vale's standing army made of volunteer soldiers. Where the, Spartans were, Vale's spear tip to break through the, Grimm hordes, the VRG was the shield wall that held them back for the, Spartans to strike.

He spared them a fleeting glance as he walk over to see the, Spartan on command of this mission. Class A, Spartan, Raven Branwen.

A Spartans rank was decided upon by a variety of factors: Spartan children at the age of five were all considered, Class F, commonly considered the trainee class. When a trainee reached the age of age of twelve they were promoted, a sign that they were no longer solely a trainee, but an apprentice.

They were promoted to the ranks of, E, or D Class based upon their performance. And, then a B Class, Spartan, would give them training in that trainee's chosen field of expertise. A trainee could have many teachers offering tutelage to help broaden their skill sets.

Because of, Jaune's birthday present from his parents, Jaune sought out, Raven Branwen to learn the blade under her, being one of the few, Spartans to use swords. The pair had developed a close bound over their training, leading to, Jaune to be assigned to, Raven on missions quite often. As a result of this familiar bound, Jaune knew some of, Raven's little quirks, and whatnot. So as he neared her, and saw her nervously fidgeting with her hands, he knew full, and well something was up.

He called out to her on their helmets radio, concern lightly seeping into his voice as he eyed his friend. "Raven?"

"Yes, what is it?" Raven's response was filled with an air of nervousness, and worry as she all, but jumped out of her crimson, and raven black armour to face him. Cueing, Jaune on to the fact that something was wrong, but what was the question.

"Are you, are you okay, Raven?"

"I'm fine! Now, give me a status update on the situation?"

"The Grimm threat has been neutralized. Miniman causalities were sustained by the islands local militia, and VRG forces. No civilians were harmed, and no fatalities were reported either."

"Good, good good good... Inform the local commanding officer that we will be moving out shortly to patrol the area, and eliminate any other possible, Grimm threats."

"Yes, Ma'am." As, Jaune made his way to find the local commanding officer, he spared, Raven one concerned glance, hidden behind the visor of his helmet. The nervousness etched into her voice, and her desire to get away from here as fast as possible, but him on high alert.

There was something here on, Patch that made, Raven's nerves on edge. But, what could that be?

Jaune shook his head of these thoughts as he headed towards the highest rank officer among the, VRG. A major with blonde, hair, and a stubble across his face.

"Major, may I speak with you?"

The major gave him one glance before he issued some final orders to his subordinates, before walking over to, Jaune. Stopping before him, and offering him a salute, of which, Jaune offered one in kind. Despite the fact the major technically outranked, Jaune, It was common practice for most soldiers of the VRG to see, Spartans as their superiors due to their position as, Spartans.

"Major, Xiao Long, reporting, Sir!"

"At ease, Major. I am here to report to you that me, and my team will be moving out to explore the area, and eliminate any potential, Grimm threats in the area."

"Y-You're leaving already, Sir...?" There was a noticeable sound of disappointment in his voice, as he his eyes turn to look past him. Jaune followed his gaze to see he was staring at, Raven.

"Is there a problem with that, Major?"

It wasn't uncommon for officers in the, VRG to wish that, Spartan teams to linger in a spot that had just been subject to a, Grimm attack in case of the possibility of a second attack. Or, if the case the commanding officer was some fat pig they would 'ask' the, Spartans to remain to protect their shiny junk.

"Ah! No... No, Sir... if, Raven wants to leave she may leave." The way he said, Raven's name gave, Jaune pause for concern. There was no respect in his voice that one would expect to give when addressing a, Spartan. There was a sadness, and a air of familiarity in his voice as he watch his teacher from afar.

"How do you know her name, Major?" Jaune had dealt with several civilians trying to get close to himself, or his fellow, Spartans. Often they were doing this as a means of gaining status. Leading to many, Spartans to be cautious of any civilian, even those in the military when they wished to speak with a, Spartan.

"We... we were close once, Sir. I was just hoping to talk with her, and give her this." He saw the mean reach under his armour plating, and pulled out an envelope, and offered it towards, Jaune. "I understand why she wouldn't want to talk with me, I just thought she should see this. Can you give this to her, Sir; Please?"

Jaune eyed the envelope warningly as he grabbed it, and opened it, inspecting the contents. Inside was a letter, and some photos, Jaune didn't see it as anything dangerous so he decided it was safe to give it to her. He was about to close the envelope when he saw something that caught his eye. It was a photo of a smiling woman around his age, with violet eyes, and golden locks of hair with an all too familiar face.

"Who is the woman in this picture?" Jaune watched as the, Major looked around nervously at, Raven before returning his gaze back to him.

"I-I think it would be best if, Raven explain that to you, Sir." Jaune gave him one last glance before he nodded at him, and placed the photo back in the envelope.

"Very well, I shall do ask you ask, Major."

"Thank you, Sir!" Major Xiao Long, offered him a salute, which he returned in kind before making his way towards, Raven.

"Ahh good, you're finished, let's grab the others, and get going, Jaune."

"That Major back there seems to know you, Raven. He asked me to give you this.' Jaune offered the envelope to, Raven who even under the helmet he could see the nervousness in her eyes as he watch her slowly take it from his hands.

She opened it, and read the letter, her hands shaking as tears started to well up in her eyes. She then took out one of the photos he had been looking at earlier. A chocked gasp of sorrow escaped her lips. She soon removed her helmet, letting a mane of raven black hair escape it's confines, as she whipped away tears falling from her crimson eyes.

Jaune swiftly removed his helmet as he watched his teacher, his friend cry. He know, Raven for years, and she always appeared as this stoic, and collected person who was a master of her emotions, but to see her break down just from a photo? Something was wrong, something terrible.

"Raven? Raven, What's wrong?!" He placed his hand on her back as she struggled to reign in her tears, it was like watching a child bursting into tears at the lose of a loved one.

Raven soon raised her head as she took sharp gasps of air as she calmed her nerves. She looked to the sky as she steadied her nerves before turning to address her friend, and student.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I just... I didn't expect this to impact me so..."

"It's okay, Raven. It's okay... But, what the hell just happened? You just broke down into tears, I've never seen you like this before. What is in that letter?"

She took a deep sigh before she turned to look at the back of the, Major as he ordered his troops about.

"That man over there... He's someone I am... I was close to... very close to..." She pulled out another photo of the smiling blonde girl in the photo, and returned the girls radiant smile with a sorrow one of her own. "His name is, Tai Yang Xiao Long. When I was younger, just a, B Class, Spartan I met him here while out on a mission. He was just a captain then, and he was showing me, and my squad around, Patch. Local hotspots where, Grimm seemed to appear from, and what not. We stuck to each other quite a lot while we were out here, he even saved my life one time. The two of us just... clicked, you know? We just naturally fit together, so much so it hurt when we we apart from one another for too long. I used to spend my time off with him."

A smile spread across, Raven's face as she looked through another photo, before it turned into a sad smile.

"I was in, Atlas for a joint mission to deal with, Atlasian Spartans when I realized I was pregnant with his child... I was then kept in, Atlas Academy as I went through the pregnancy."

"Wait, the girl in the photos... She's your daughter?!" Jaune was shocked, Raven had her secrets just like everyone, and Jaune never wanted to pry. But, to suddenly learn his friend had a daughter his age was rather... shocking.

"Yes... she's my daughter. Her name is, Yang, Yang Xiao Long. A perfect mix between me, and him..."

"I thought she looked a lot like you, but I assumed she was your younger, Sister, not you daughter! I assume she is my age then, and since I never saw her till now. She's, Auraless?"

Raven nodded her head as she gave a hum of confirmation. "After she was test, and proved to be negative... I felt relieved."

"Relieved?"

"Yes, relieved." Raven took a deep sigh before looking at the sky. "You know what this life of our demands of us, Jaune... I didn't want that for my daughter. But, since she was, Auraless she couldn't stay with me... So, when I came back to, Vale I popped over to, Tai, and said my goodbyes; To both him, and my daughter..."

"I understand why you left her with this, Tai fellow. But, you never visited them again? You could have still been their for them, no?"

"Look at me, Jaune. Do I scream mother, housewife, any of those things?"

"Nope. You being a mother is odd enough as it is, you being a housewife, wearing an apron, and baking cookies? Now that's just crazy talk!" The pair shared a laugh at the shear ridicules of the thought of someone like, Raven as housewife. "But, just because you didn't... couldn't settle down with him, that doesn't mean you couldn't have spent time together. Getting to spend time with the man you love, and sharing in happy moments with your daughter."

"I didn't want her to get too attached to me! I was scared that if she grew too close to me, and if I died fighting against the, Grimm... It... It breaks my heart to just think about how she would react if I died... My heart can't take it, Jaune..."

"Maybe, but I think you would be just as devastated if you died as well. Because, she may not know who you are on account of you never being there for her. I think she's chasing after you in her own way." Jaune pulled out a photo of a smiling, Yang, grinning from ear to ear. Dressed in an all too familiar deep green uniform. A cadet officers uniform. "You may say she following her dad, but that smile of her reminds me more of you, Raven. In her own little ways, Raven, she's chasing after you. How much would it hurt to say hi to her? Not nearly as much as never getting the chance to I reckon."

She looked at him before she turned her gaze to look at the man she loved. "But, how am I supposed to do that? Just walk up to her, and say. 'hi?"

"You start slow, Raven. You first reunite with that, Tai fellow over there. And, then eventually he introduces you to your estranged daughter. Simple as that."

"But, is it though?"

"Are we even human anymore?"

"The unofficial moto of the, Spartans."

"That's right. Because of our training we've gone through since our childhood, we've become so detached from our emotions that we no longer seem human. This, Tai fellow, and you apparent daughter appear to keep you tethered to your humanity, Raven. Go over there, and reunite with your old flame, before that rope breaks, and you lose that humanity that we fight, and die for."

"Ha! When did you so wise, and philosophical, Jaune?"

Jaune shrugged his shoulders at her before he looked towards, Tai. "I'm a 'knight.' I probably picked up a thing, or two reading all those books about knight."

"Yeah, probably... Okay..." Raven straightened her back, as she put the envelope in her pocket. "Wish me luck."

"Luck."

Jaune smiled as he watched as, Raven walked over to, Tai, and gave him a tap on the shoulder. The surprised look, followed by that infectious smile he gave her brought a smile to his face in turn.

If we, Spartans, seemingly heartless killing machines could generate such a smile with our mere presence, then where is the truth in a question such as: 'Are we even human anymore?'

Because, how could anything, but a humans pure love for one another elicit such a reaction?

The question shouldn't be: 'Are we even human anymore?' But, 'What's stopping us from being human?'

Isn't that was make people human: Searching for what makes us human?

[arlemoon]

venus, planet of love, has one moon.

contains: established relationships, implied character death, implied murder, bittersweet endings, angst.

arlecchino’s mind could be equated as a pond. within it contained a diverse body of aquatic creatures festering about. these could be called both her memories and emotions. some lived by feasting upon the seagrass and algae, creating harmonious and symbiotic relationships with those it coexisted with. others, the more ravenous ones, persisted through much more barbaric means akin to invasive creatures. without natural predators, they’re destined to overwhelm the rest of the pond like conquistadors.

it is a cherished skill to be able to create those said predators. or, perhaps, is it but a mere pitiable circumstance in which the mind has forced itself to find ways to cope with trauma? whatever the case was, arlecchino is no novice at containing her invasive creatures, though a hefty sum of her ability to do so was attributable to none other than the one she called her lover. her darling, darling lover.

ironically, the one that nearly sent the effectiveness of all of arlecchino’s developed coping mechanisms down the drain.

it was all too characteristic of life and fate itself that things would twist and turn into such a grotesque ending. what was even more grotesque was how bright the moon reflected against the ocean’s still currents. what was more grotesque was how nothing else seemed amiss in the world. the cliff wasn’t crumbling, the forest wasn’t wilted, and the crickets still played their otherwise comforting melodies as if arlecchino’s mental anguish meant nothing.

what was most grotesque of all was the disgustingly content and gentle smile decorating your face. the face that arlecchino couldn’t bear sparing more than a glance at lest she let anger or sorrow consume her.

she of all people stressed to her children that anger causes impulsivity, and that sorrow causes wavering, and she was an avid practitioner of what she preached. arlecchino tries not to give in and break the silence, but she can’t stop the small utter of your name, weak and defeated.

your response is adeptly timed—elegant and poise as always, she takes note of.

“never in my life could i fathom the idea of hearing my name slip from your tongue with such vulnerability lacing it, my dearest, arlecchino. does this gentle breeze not quell your heart?” you reply, said gentle breeze nearly drowning out the quiet whisper of your voice without exertion. thankfully, arlecchino’s unknowingly trained herself to cling onto every word you say like it was gospel or words of the divine.

her throat is too parched to reply, and it’s as if her pyro vision has snaked its way up to her throat and burnt it up until it shriveled like a plant. still, these moments with you are too precious to let her own mind stop her from talking with you.

“you are such a foolish lover of mine. you of all must know that something as minute as a gust of wind could never hope to pacify something as immense as my unrest,” she slowly starts, finally bringing her gaze onto you for longer than a short glimpse. it was shattering to see how full of life you appeared—flushed skin, hair that was tamed and very clearly tended to.. it all served as a stark juxtaposition to what schemed within your very being and soul.

“we both are foolish lovers, then,” you reply, no beats missed. “the two of us both made mistakes. yours, falling in love with me, and mine, being born.”

arlecchino uncharacteristically bristles at that.

“do not say such ill words about yourself. in fact, do not call what has happened in the past a mistake. mistakes are something to be regretted, and i do not regret and have not once regretted falling in love with you,” she sternly replies, and you have to refrain from letting your slight amusement show.

“pardon my insensitivity, my love. i forget you’d scold anyone who talked ill of me, myself included.”

“you particularly, actually. you mustn’t forget.”

“hm? that wounds me, my love.”

a few seconds may not have summed up to much, but those few seconds of lighthearted banter were heaven itself to arlecchino. after all, small moments like these rarely came. after all, small moments like these would never occur again at all. after all, to arlecchino, these last moments were all she had.

because arlecchino was fair.

she always looked at the grander design—the big picture, and in this case, it was the world at stake. all seven regions were at risk because of this one predicament: you. more specifically, the tumor that grew within your soul, leeching onto your energy until it grew big enough to leave your vessel and infect the world with its curse.

contrary to what some people may assume, arlecchino did not want the world to burn. arlecchino was no villain or antagonist, but she was no saint either. she was somewhere in limbo—an anti-hero of the sort. she wished not for the world to crumble, but rather for it to simply exist.

though, in no foreseeable future could her desires align with you keeping your life.

“arlecchino, my dear? i worry when you fall silent. i cannot help but wonder what goes on inside that mind of yours,” you start, a bittersweet smile coming to your face once more when you hear the sound of materializing metal.

“oh, my love.. how i will always forgive you.”

venus, planet of love, had one moon.

© arlemoon 2024. plagiarize at your own will, but i will be very sad to find any of my uncredited work elsewhere. thank you.

[milykins]

One More Night

I felt inspired by @justalotoffanfiction who wrote a Bayverse Raph story based on Mr. Brightside, so I thought I'd try my hand writing something based on a different song, One More Night by Maroon 5.

TW: Angst, Abuse toward Raph, verbal and physical, swearing and mentions of sex.

*Aged up characters

*Bayverse Raph × Reader

*HEA ending guaranteed

Special thanks to @avery73 for beta-reading!

Even the strongest of us can fall victim to this type of treatment. Raphael was no exception.

SLAP!

The sound reverberated off of the paper-thin walls in the tiny apartment. She was hitting him again. She was always angry at him for some reason. Why the hell was he here again? Oh, yeah, because she wanted to fuck him. This was always the reason.

He got a little bit of satisfaction seeing her shake her hand after slapping him, though it did nothing to quell her seemingly burning hatred toward him. If anything, she looked more enraged that his skin was so tough.

“You ASSHOLE! You think you can come and go as you please?! I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” She was screaming at him because his patrol had gone longer than it normally would, and she did not like to be kept waiting.

He knew this, and he should care, but he didn't. This… ‘thing’ they’d had going on had been well-established for months, but any time something went awry or didn’t go according to plan, she exploded. It’s not like she could really hurt him… slapping, hitting, throwing things at him. It didn’t really matter. That’s what he tried to tell himself, to make excuses for her behaviour because, on the other hand, being with her had resulted in some of the hottest sex imaginable. That’s why he kept coming back. That’s why they both kept coming back.

It still made him angry though. Fucking bitch.

“FUCKING FINE! I’ll just fucking GO THEN.” He meant it and whirled around to leave.

“Don’t you take another step Raphael.” She snapped; her voice deadly low. “Get the hell over here.”

He should leave. He should shut this down right now and never come here again. They both knew that this wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t stop coming.

And she knew it.

Moments later he’d spanned the length of the room and had her pressed tightly against the wall, kissing her ravenously, his hand fisted in her hair. She was just as desperate, hands clawing at him, trying to remove his clothes, and throwing his weapons to the ground. As hot as that was, he’d never liked how she had no respect for them or cared about how dangerous they were. All she had cared about was getting what she wanted.

In the aftermath, he laid in her bed staring at the ceiling hating himself. She was deeply asleep beside him blissfully unaware of his conflicting feelings. She’d apologize of course in her moments of clarity, even promise that next time she’d be nicer, gentler. She never kept that promise.

Quietly, as only a ninja could, he dressed, retrieved his weapons, tucking them safely into his belt and left. He felt like such an idiot. He needed to stop fucking doing this. He knew his brothers and their father were worried about him but he shut down anytime anyone tried to ask him about it. The only one who had any idea of what was going on was Casey.

“Dude, she sounds fucking awful, why do you keep going there?”

“Cuz she’s hot and the sex is amazing.”

“No pussy is worth this, man. She’s slapping the shit out of you every time you go.”

“’s fine, it doesn’t really hurt me any.”

“Maybe not physically, but it ain’t great for your head.”

“I’m fine.”

They’d left it at that; but as time went on, he was slowly coming to the realization Casey was right. This wasn’t good for him but he kept going back. He needed to stop; he needed a reason to cut ties with her for good.

You ended up being that reason.

You’d been best friends throughout your teens and had lost touch after the two of you had met your respective partners. Your relationship had ended disastrously with him cheating on you with a ‘friend’ of yours. Immediately, you cut ties and burned those bridges with both of them. Now single, your thoughts had turned back to Raph. You wondered how he was doing and hoped he was happy. You wished the two of you could reconnect and catch up, but you were afraid he’d forgotten all about you.

It's funny how life works sometimes. One Saturday night, you heard glass breaking in the apartment below you. You had just moved in and had groaned when you realized there was probably a loud argumentative couple living below you now. Hearing more noise and muffled yelling prompted you to go to your balcony to see what was going on. You figured you could call the police if it got really bad and you were just a tiny bit nosy.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw and heard.

“You’re fucking crazy! I’m done. WE’RE FUCKING DONE! I ain’t never coming back here!” It was Raph, it was unmistakably his voice. You’d know it anywhere.

Craning your neck over the side of your balcony you looked far as you could and saw him. The poor guy looked like a wreck. There was red liquid and bits of broken glass all down his front. From what you could see, it appeared to be remnants of a glass of wine. You could assume that it had been hurled at him along with the entire bottle it looked like.

“Don’t you fucking walk out on me, Raphael! GET BACK HERE!” The woman who’d thrown those things was screaming at him but he wasn’t turning back.

It was only when you heard the screen door slam shut that you dared call out to him. “Raph?”

He heard you, how could he not? Seconds later, he was swinging himself up to your balcony, whispering your name in surprise and looking ashamed at his appearance. He hurriedly brushed any remaining pieces of glass to the floor. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I just moved here.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached to grab his arm but stopped when you saw him physically tense up. What had happened to him? He used to be so strong in your eyes, and now he looked afraid to have you touch him.

Slowly, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you gently pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but notice that he just looked so angry and… broken.

“Are you okay?” You knew your concern was valid since he was quiet a long moment before answering.

“…I’m fine.” He was lying to you, and he hated himself for doing that. He regretted it the moment those two words left his lips.

Sucking in a breath you gently grabbed those huge biceps of his and met his troubled gaze. God, you’d missed those piercing green eyes of his. “You’re not fine Raph… you’re covered in wine and…” You looked at his face, studying it more. “Does she… hit you?”

He turned away in shame as he tensed. “Doesn’t hurt none…”

You narrowed your gaze, your own anger rising up as you gave those arms a squeeze. “How often is she hitting you, Raph…?” Again, when he doesn’t answer right away your tone and your grip become harder. “How. Often?”

He spoke so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “A lot…” If he’s finally admitting it to someone, it should be you.

A lump was quickly forming in your throat as you realized what had been going on. What kind of relationship he’d been dealing with. Why he was so tense and unsure. How unhealthy it was and why you hadn’t heard from him in so long.

“Raph… that’s… abuse. She’s abusing you.” You whispered these words because it hurt you to say them any louder. You knew Raph would never lay a hand against a woman, but you never expected him to be on the receiving end of this kind of thing.

His first instinct was to argue against that. He bristled as he backed away out of your grasp, walls of defense shooting in place as he tried to deny it. That was ridiculous! Him being abused.

“No it ain’t! I’d know if I was… that’s fucking ridiculous!” He’d curled his hands into large fists, his shoulders hunched and slightly shaking with his denial.

You can feel him practically vibrating with humiliation and uncertainty. You say nothing more as you go to him and start gently rubbing his shell. You’d done this often for him when you both were younger. The action was soothing to him whenever he was angry and upset about something. When you finally felt him relax, you moved around to his front, hugging him tightly. A few tears slip down your cheeks, adding to the wine stains on his red hoodie. You felt absolutely broken for him.

“Please don’t say you’re fine Raph… not to me…” You attempted to swallow the lump and keep your tears at bay. “It’s okay… It’s okay to admit this is happening to you, and it’s okay to leave…” You choked out a sob. “It’s okay… to not be okay. I’m here for you.”

That was it. Finally, finally, the walls fall down as his arms came around you holding you so tight you could barely breathe. He’d been living a lie for so long, spent too many months with this appalling treatment, but seeing you, hearing that was all it took. The dam broke; he buried his face into your shoulder, shaking slightly as he finally allowed himself to break.

He was crying, you realized as he quietly sobbed, his own tears joining yours as you cried together. “It’s okay, big guy…” you choked out. “It’s gonna be okay…” You rubbed his shell as best you could, being an anchor for him in his time of need.

When he finally looked up, you could see his mask was damp, his expression vulnerable and unsure accompanied with shaky breaths. You suddenly had the urge to kiss him. Where had that come from? You two were just friends… right? Plus, this wasn’t the right time… he needed to get his head right and recover. You shook the thought away and took his hand, guiding him to your couch. “Take that off.” You softly ordered. “I’ll wash it.”

Too exhausted to fight or argue, he listened and removed both his red mask and hoodie. Gently, you took them and threw both items into your washing machine with laundry soap and oxyclean. Hopefully, that would be enough to remove the wine stains.

He relaxed into your couch and called for you. “C’mere.” The request was soft yet held a note of urgency. When you approached, he reached for you and pulled you onto his lap. “Jus’ wanna hold you,” he murmured, needing your comfort and closeness, something he’d been severely lacking in for a long time.

It was easy to melt into his embrace and wrap your arms around him in return. “I gotcha big guy…”

He held you quietly for a long time, just breathing in your scent and taking in your soft energy. This was the turning point, the sign he’d needed to make a permanent change in his life and cut that toxic woman out of his life. He hadn’t felt like he had the strength to do it previously, but with your support, now he did.

“Thank you… for bein’ here…”

“I’ll always be here for you Raph…”

True to his word, he’d made good on his decision to completely cut ties with her. There had been even more yelling and items being thrown at him, but he was done. Once he’d made up his mind, that was it. He was one hundred percent DONE. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to come back from it.

You were there waiting for him when he told you the news and were so happy and relieved or him. His brothers, in turn, were also relieved with Mikey even calling to thank you for being there for his big brother.

He visited you regularly, now having a much better reason to go to that same apartment building. The two of you slowly reconnected and started making up for lost time. You were a crucial part of his recovery and ended up being a major element in his support system. The feelings you had toward him from that fateful night had only grown stronger, but you wouldn’t act on them. You couldn’t, not until he was fully healed.

Raph had been realizing how wrong he’d been to let you go and had vowed to make it up to you. It was little things at first, stopping by after patrols with pizza, sending you a random meme that he hoped would make you laugh, and bringing you your favourite latte in the mornings. He was slowly coming to terms with how much he had missed this and how much he had missed you. This is what a healthy relationship looked like, and he felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier.

It was a few months later that it had finally hit him over the head that what he’d needed and what he truly wanted had been right in front of him all along. He saw you, and when he’d nervously confessed his feelings, he’d been absolutely elated when you’d told him you felt the same way.

That first kiss you two shared had been the pinnacle of his journey to healing.

Afterwards, you’d held him close and whispered these words.

“No one will ever hurt you again.”

Because you would make sure of it.

The End

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n: part ten! Surprise! Thought I would treat you all. 🤫🫨🫂

warning: kids, past trauma, blood, mention of puking, wounds, Illyrian camps, alcohol, smoking, nightmares.

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The wind blew behind the window. Steady tapping and hoots echoed through the empty house. Even the flame in the fireplace seemed to sway to the melody of the wind. You sat in one of the plush chairs. Feet tucked beneath you. A blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Yet it didn't seem to warm you. Nothing seemed to warm you these days. No matter what you did, you always felt a chilly sensation twirling deep within you.

Your eyes felt heavy. Sleep was another thing that did not come easy. You had tried, but the longest you had managed to stay put was an hour, and after that, you had been up, pacing the rooms. Worry ripping at your skin. You had hoped to see Azriel once you could manage to lift yourself from the bed, but he had done everything he could to avoid you. I don't want to accept it. Your voice echoed through your mind. If only you could take them back. Go back in time and scratch it all up. Explain it all to Azriel before asking him for time. Before saying that you simply couldn't do it now, it didn't mean that you didn't want it in the end. You did want him, but then, did he want you?

A sickness crept up your throat, and you stood quickly. Waiting for the nausea to subside. Home. You wanted to go home. The only issue was that you no longer knew where home was. Was it back in the sanctuary? At Cordelia's? With Azriel? A cold shiver ran down your back, your skin growling clammy. When you stated to Rhys that you wanted to be escorted to the sanctuary, he simply shook his head. "What do you mean, no? You can't deny me...", but the high lord only gave you a tight smile and said, "It's Azriel's order. You're to stay in the house of wind".

You had let out a huff, "I'm not a prisoner! And if he wants to order me around, he better grow a pair and do it himself". Rhys had only laughed at your words, tilting his head back in clear delight. He was enjoying this way too much, this smug ass. "You sure keep him humbled", the high lord snickered. But his delight soon faded, "You'll be safe in the house of wind, Y/N. We both know there are many more males..." You had turned to the high lord at such speed that you nearly gave yourself a whiplash. "That wants me dead. Then let them. Let's end this and move on", you said through gritted teeth. "I can't", Rhys said bluntly, "I couldn't back then and especially can't now when my brother's life is linked with yours".

Panic rose over your body. Your hands trembled as you moved to walk once more. You couldn't sit still. You couldn't. Taking in a sharp breath, you plunged within your heart, trying to find that barely flicking bond. Trying to tug. Trying to... Azriel, you called, your voice barely a whisper. Of course, you guessed it. You might have practically grown up between the iron walls, but you knew what mates were. Or you had suspected. But you had never allowed yourself the time and luxury to dream of such things. They would make one weak. And there was no kindness in...

The sound of footsteps made you whirl back. Eyes catching a glimpse of a tiny frame. Zofie peered through the corner, earless in her hand. The poor empath had been exhausted. With you and Axel in distress, she was barely managing to juggle the emotions everyone felt. From anger to heartbreak. Yet she stood through it all, unyielding. You opened your arms for the little girl without a second thought. After all, the two of them were all you had. Zofie's bare feet tapped against the wooden floor.

"Why are you up, little one?", you asked softly as she nuzzled deeper into your embrace. "Is Mr. Earless snoring again?", brushing her messy raven hair, you smiled down at her. Zofie only shook her head, "Do your hands hurt?", she asked you instead, cutting the chase. Wanting to know the source of your discomfort. "No, Zo, nothing hurts. I'm just not tired, baby", you hoped your lies struck the truth for her, but the girl only tilted her head to the side. Eyeing up the dark bags beneath your eyes. The grayish tint your skin had gained. "Is it your back?", the girl asked, her eyes big as she looked at you. Her question stole the breath from your lungs, but you quickly shook your head.

"I promise, you don't have to worry", you said, cupping her cheek. Zofie bit her lip, her eyes darting towards the window. "I miss Azriel", she admitted finally. She had been the one who had taken the spymaster's absence the hardest. Or more like the one who showed her emotions openly regarding that. You knew that Axel also missed Azriel. The boy had scrubbed drawings of him but hidden them beneath his bed so no one would see them. You caught glimpses of him trying to train throughout the day. Then frustration would strike when he would lose his balance and Azriel wasn't there to catch him or correct his movements. Angry tears followed suit. Come back; you would call in moments like that; come back for them at least, please. But it was the same unbreakable wall you hit all the time. Icy yet thick with shrouded thorns.

"He doesn't like us anymore, doesn't he? If it's because of what Ax said,", the girl rambled on, her eyes building up with tears. You asshole, you banged your fists against the cold wall Azriel had built between the two of you, I hope you're seeing this. But you bit through the anger. Because you couldn't. You could hurt yourself. You can suffocate, but not them. Not the kids. "Listen to me; what I said that day, I said because I was upset", you cupped her already crimson cheeks. "Azriel loves you two; he's just...", Your words trailed off, "He's away on a mission, hence why he hasn't been here for a while. But he will come see you both when he returns". The hope that bloomed in Zofie's golden eyes made you want to let out a sob. She held onto your hands. "Will he actually?", you nodded your head without hesitation. You'd find a way to make him see them at least one last time. You would find a way. "Good", Zofie nodded quickly, "Axel has written him an apology letter, and I drew him a picture. He'll have to read it". Her innocent voice was so full of hope that it made your eyes sting.

Azriel could barely see through the cloud of smoke he puffed out. He was not the one to use stimulants like that. The state of intoxication always left him uneasy. His sharp senses dulled out. And Azriel held himself to high standards. He always needed to be in shape and prepared to act and make decisions. But the past week had been nothing but a mercy cloud of whatever herbs he had snatched from a local dealer. The longing and pull were so strong that the spymaster was ready to do everything to keep you off his mind.

But he failed. Failed at late night hours the most. During the day, he felt you struggling on the other side, kicking at his mental shields and scraping your nails at them. So he knew you were well if you had the energy for all that. It's at night when it all halted that all the lingering fears slip into Azriel's head. What ifs swirling around. And when he no longer managed to grasp you on the other side, he would winnow. Winnow to the house of wind. He would walk through the quiet house until he was right in front of your slumbering figure.

Most nights, he watched you and the kids like that. One of you would stir, and he would turn into nothing more than a shadow. There were nights when Azriel dared to brush his fingers over your forehead or run his hand over one of the kids' backs soothingly. Azriel hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with their distress. But it lingered all over. Zofie's tiny body seemed even smaller, and that alone ripped out a chunk of the spymaster's heart.

"Maker", Azriel's head jerked up to the sound of an empty bottle rolling across the floor. A handful of curses followed suit. "Ah, that's a handful more than when we checked last time", Cassian's voice ran through the hallway. "He's alive", the lord of bloodshed cheered, clapping his hands, but he only earned a huff from his high lord, "Shut it, Cass". Azriel knew that he should go and greet them. That was part of the Nothing Bad Is Going On Act, scene three. But he couldn't be bothered tonight. Not after he heard you sobbing through the bond. Crying till you turned to heave. His blood was burning from the neglect. Everything in his body screamed for him to go, but he stayed lying on a messy mattress. He had never bothered to buy a bed frame. He never cared.

"You are unbelievable", an old shirt flicked onto Azriel's chest. He didn't need to move to feel Rhys's angry gaze. "Get your ass up; we're going to train", the high lord ordered, nudging Azriel's leg with his foot. It was almost funny how not long ago they all grumbled about Nesta's living condition. Alcohol consumption. And here he was. The spymaster of the night court. Azriel draped an arm over his tired eyes. "I told you to come here only when it was necessary", the shadowsinger muttered. Hoping to usher these busybodies away.

"It is important", Rhys shuffled behind, no doubt picking up the empty bottles. "You are wasting away", Rhys had gone easy on Azriel with work. It almost felt like a full-circle moment. Azriel couldn't help but remember how Rhys had wept after he realized that Feyre was his mate and the girl had gone back with Tamlin. "Come on, Az, this is insane", even Cassian's voice held a thread of worry, but Azriel couldn't find it in himself to care. He had been selfish once again. So what was the reason?

"How is she?", the words slipped past Azriel's lips before he even realized it. No matter what he did, you were always on his mind. No matter what he did, getting rid of your presence in his senses seemed impossible. "I have an insane suggestion for you", Cassian answered, no doubt getting fed up. "You will be shocked when I'll tell you ", Cassian kneeled next to his brother, poking at his side before saying, "How about you go check yourself?"

Azriel only rolled his eyes. Everyone was urging him to speak. Even his mother had scolded him. "You'll grow to regret this, boy", she said, pointing a warning finger at him and shaking her head. But you said it yourself—I don't want to accept it. And for the third time in his life, Azriel was left to be a fool. Mor. Elain. Now his mate. One he had dreamed for as long as he remembered.

Azriel shook his head as he moved to sit up. Head pounding from the alcohol and the lack of sleep, "She doesn't want to do anything with me", those words stung because you had been barging into his mind without a break. "You don't know that", Rhys said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at Azriel. "Did you let her explain herself, or did you tuck your tail beneath your legs and run?", the high lord huffed. Azriel shot him an angry look. "Fuck you", the spymaster barked. Rhys only nodded, "Mature, get your ass up". But Azriel stayed seated. Trying to win the staring contest. "You gave up on them real quick", but Cassian didn't get to finish because Azriel had his hand on his brother's neck. The lord of bloodshed pressed against the nearest wall. "I. Did. Not. Give. Up. On. Them", Azriel snared each and every word through gritted teeth. His hand jabbed against the middle of Cass's neck. He's been feeling so on edge. So in need to punch something. He had shattered the mirror in his bathroom but it did little to soothe his frustration. Cassian didn't back away as he snarled back, pushing against his brother, "Then go to her; she's practically walked holes in the floor up there". Azriel pulled back. He turned away from him to brush his fingers through his hair. He needed a distraction. Something. Anything to keep his mind off this.

"Do you have the reports from the camp?", he turned to Rhys. Cassian pulled at Azriel's arm, "Don't change the topic, ass". But Spymaster ignored him, his eyes on Rhys. "Do you?", he repeated the question. "I do", Rhys said calmly, not a single trace of emotion on his face. "Give them to me", Azriel extended his palm towards Rhys, who only looked down at it, not amused. "No", the high lord said simply, "It involves information that's... sensitive". Azriel let out a huffed laugh, "Bullshit". He stepped closer to the high lord, who simply raised his palm, silencing the male, "Azriel, enough". Azriel gritted his teeth in return, "You can walk yourself out", he barked out, turning from the two males as he reached for another bottle.

You were braiding Zofie's hair when a dark swirl appeared in the living room. Your breath hitched. Hope blooming in your stomach. But it all fizzled out as quickly as it sprouted. It was Rhsy, Feyre right next to him. The kids instantly stood up, bowing. You couldn't help but smile. The two had been mesmerized by the high lord and lady. To Axel Rhys was still a floating head, but since the high lord didn't seem to mind the constant reminder of that, the boy continued to wave that card around.

"To what do we own the pleasure", You stood as well, smiling at the two. You looked like a rag doll that's been dragged through dirt compared to their neatly pressed clothes. "You all should come to have dinner with us", Rhys said calmly, that cat-like smile on his lips. Feyre nodded to her mate's words, "Staying stuffed in here doesn't help. I'm sure"; you knew that the high lady had spent her fair share of days here herself. "The paintings keep me entertained", you gestured to the painted furniture and the colorful walls. A laugh slipped past her lips as she too looked around.

"You can take the kids. It'll be nice for them to see Nyx", you ruffled Axel's hair, and the boy instantly stepped forward, reaching for the high lady. Zofie followed suit. But it was Rhys who wasn't too pleased with that decision. At least not fully. "I don't want to leave you here alone", the male stated, his eyes darker than moments ago. "I'll be fine", you said, smiling at him, but he didn't return the gesture. "Rhys, I'll be fine", you stated once again, not failing to catch a glimpse of worry that flashed across his face. Worry that seeped into your bones, "What is it? Did something happen to Azriel? The high lord shook his head quickly. "No, no", he reassured you, "I just revisited the day I brought you to the sanctuary". You reached to clasp his hand, trying to suppress the shiver that ran through you, "Don't think about it. It's not worth it".

You felt as if you were on fire but also freezing at the same time. Your back felt sore; you didn't remember the mattress feeling so hard. You moved your finger over the surface, halting when you didn't feel the plush material beneath you. Solid, cold ground met the tips of your fingers. You sat up quickly. No. No. No. There was no way. The breeze flew past you. The only comfort left for you. The camp buzzed around you. People were walking past. A lady let go of her daughter, the girl rushing to thread a wildflower through the bars. No. You crawled toward her. Hands reaching for the iron polls. "Please", you breathed. "Tell them", but the girl only laughed as she hurried away. You pushed your hand through the gap, trying to wave her over again. Wave anyone over. But no one stopped. No one listened. No one answered.

You jolted up. Cold sweat dripping down your body. You quickly pushed the blanket off. You must have fallen asleep while waiting for Rhys to bring the kids back. You reached for the wood, throwing a couple of logs into the fire. The floor creaked behind you, making you jump. Hiss fell from your lips when the back of your leg met the flame blazing behind you. You leaped forward, hissing, hand-moving to run down the sore spot. And then it echoed again. The same noise. The same footsteps as that night. A glass hit the ground. You jumped forward without a single thought. Yanking the door open, bare feet sinking into the fresh snow as you ran.

Azriel's eyes shot open. He wasn't in deep sleep; he was sure of it. The sleep he had managed to slip into was simply gray. Dreamless. There was no sound. Nothing seemed off. Until an ache ran through him. His feet grew cold. A shiver. Azriel sat up. His senses perked up. Something was wrong. But none of his shadows posted at the watch spots had been triggered. And then the same images of the ever-recurring nightmare flashed through his eyes. The snow. The river. Arrows. The delicate white turned a deep shade of red. And then, as if all at once, your panic hit his chest. Making him growl. "Y/N", he muttered. "Find her", Azriel roared, shadows leaping into the night as the spymaster stood, broad shadows filling the space as he too winnowed.

You had no idea where you were running. You knew that the only way down the mountain was a handful of stairs, but you couldn't find them. They were snowed in. Had to be. The wind blew right through you. The silk nightgown did nothing to protect your skin. But you didn't care; you had to get away. You would never go back. They would never... Your foot slipped. Your body weight shifted as you tumbled to the ground. Sliding down the side of the peak. Nails digging into the frozen ground, hoping to catch onto something, anything.

You hit the ground with a thud, the snow breaking the fall slightly. Stars danced in the corners of your vision, but the voice inside your head urged you to get going. You turned to get up, reaching for a branch, only to feel it snap beneath your weight. A frustrated cry slipped past your lips. The snowstorm was picking up. A dark shadow flew over your head. "No", you muttered, hurrying to pick yourself up, darting towards the dead trees, trying to leap between them. Branches caught onto the thin material, ripping slits into it, scratching your skin. You had to get away. If you could just make it down the hill, someone would...

A hand gripped your shoulder, and you let out a scream, trying to duck away. But the grip didn't ease. You trashed in their grip with all that you had. "Y/N", a voice roared. "No", you said, trying to claw your way out. "Y/N", it called once more, "Love." Darkness swallowed you as two huge wings spread over your body. Your eyes followed the curve of it.

"Look at me, hey", a warm palm touched your cheek, making you blink a couple of times. Azriel stood right in front of you. Eyes filled with worry. "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?", he huffed, looking down at your scratched-up body. But you didn't care; you couldn't... Stepping forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck, shaking. Azriel didn't miss a beat, his arms wrapping around your delicate frame. Hissing at the coldness of your skin.

"You're barefoot; Mother strike me", he huffed, dipping to pull you up into his arms. "We can't go", you said, shaking your head, making Azriel frown. "We can't; there's someone. They are in the house", the spymaster only watched you. Purple lips. Teary eyes. Bloody fingers. "No one can get into the house beside us, love", Azriel muttered, watching your terrified eyes. How was he able to walk away? Leave you like this... After it all... The spymaster gritted his teeth. "Let's get you warmed up", he muttered, shooting up into the sky.

You stayed by the same fireplace, feet dunked in a warm water bath made by Azriel. He was walking through the house, checking every single door and every window. Right now, you couldn't tell him what was part of your dream and what happened actually. Everything you heard and felt mushy, mixed up together, but Azriel didn't press.

"Nothing seems broken. It's probably just the wind", he muttered, handing you a cup of tea. Oh, how the tables had turned. "You need to get out of the damp clothes", Azriel said bluntly. "It's fine", you muttered, not lifting your eyes up. "You're in a bloody silk nightgown that's drenched", his voice picked up. Whatever you still had on your body, left very little to the imagination. The swell of your breasts was visible through the damp material clinging to your skin, and the slit, a tree so gracefully granted you, finished right over your hip.

"Azriel", you breathed, closing your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about right now. "Where are the kids?", Azriel muttered, no doubt having looked for them in the rooms. "At Rhys's. I thought seeing Nyx would cheer them up", you breathed out, setting the cup of tea down. The mug felt scorching hot in your frozen palms. "They miss you", you added after a moment, finally daring to look up. Only to be met with that same mask of coldness. Unapproachable mountain. "I don't think so", he huffed, even if deep down he knew that he was wrong. It was easier to stay away if he kept telling himself that. "You're petty over something a scared child told you?", you shook your head, huffing. "Something YOU told them", Azriel stepped closer, pointing a finger at you. Watching as a flash of guilt ripped through you. Hating the way you lowered your gaze instantly.

"Have you seen her", it was petty to ask. If he wanted, he could. You had grown jealous of her in the past week. Of how she had Azriel in ways you hadn't. "What if I have?", Azriel's words made a shiver run down your back. An angry tear slipped down your cheek. Azriel's face fell at the sight of that, his anger and frustration fizzing out as he turned to kneel in front of you. "I haven't. I swear I haven't. I didn't... I didn't even think of her once", he said in one breath. He was desperate now to chase the ache that bloomed in his chest.

"Do you see why I don't want it now? Don't want it like this?", you breathed out. "You're not over her, and I'm not here", you said, shaking your head. "Elain chose Lucien; they are mated", Azriel said firmly. "It didn't stop you last time", you muttered, turning away from him. "They are happy, she settled. Y/N, they walked in there after fucking", he exclaimed. Frustration dripping off him. "And the only woman I want to bend over and...", he halted, his chest raising up and down frantically.

"I know how it goes. The frenzy and all", you rubbed your palms together, "I'm not ready for that". Your voice sounded so small, and it ripped at Azriel. He moved to hook a finger beneath your chin. "Do you think I would do anything against your will?", "I didn't want you to leave, but you did", a shiver ran down Azriel's back. Not only did he leave, he didn't answer your calls for a week. Too deep in self-pity. "I'm sorry", Azriel muttered, closing his eyes and dipping his head. "I just...", he muttered, "My whole life, I've been waiting for you, and the thought of you rejoicing me... it blinded me".

You watched him for a moment—a male so big, looking so small—in front of you. You leaned closer to him, cupping his cheek. Tugging on the bond slightly. Making the sides of Azriel's lips curve up. "I want you... just...", you swallowed thickly, the images of your nightmare swirling at the tip of your tongue, "Be patient with me".

"I'm sorry for how I reacted", Azriel said, moving to thread his fingers through your hair, "There's no rush. I told you, I'll wait, and I will". You leaned closer to him, resting your forehead against his. Breathing him in. "But you do need to change because I'm only a man", he huffed, making you let out a laugh. "Is this too seductive for you, sir?", you purred, making Azriel growl. "You will be a death for me, sweet", his hand gripped your hips just how he liked it, slippery silk bunching up in his palms.

His lips brushed just over yours before he pulled away. "Can I kiss you?", Azriel muttered, inches away from you. You tilted your head back slightly, suddenly feeling giddy. "A bit late to ask that, no?" Azriel shook his head, his palm nestling in the crook of your neck as he pulled you closer. "Yes or no?", lustful need swirled in his golden orbs, but he waited for your answer regardless. "Why don't you try and find out", you hummed, unraveling the last bits of Azriel's self-control.

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