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Part 2 of 'Forgotten'

Angst, Fluff

Poll Chosen : Xaden Riorson x Reader

Summary: After leaving Navarre behind, you promise yourself you will fight with or without your dragon and beloved. Fighting though, for some reason always leads you to Xaden.

A/N: FW/IF Spoilers.

Word Count: >28k (settle in and get comfy)

I really hope y'all enjoy this one. Let me know what you think.

Part 1

What does one do when they run away from their dragon and desert their war college? 

Hide, of course. 

Pausing at a copse of trees, you sink down to your knees and pull the now tattered cloak as firmly around your shoulders as you can. The bitter chill of the wind has begun to settle into your bones as you miss the warmth of a roaring fire and warm bed.

Days of traveling by foot have taken a grueling toll on your body. Though you haven’t gone hungry, thanks to your foresight of paying attention to infantry during RSC missions, the small game that you’ve caught and cooked over small fires has not done much to satisfy your hunger. The fire, in turn, barely warms your hands and feet when the night chill settles in.

As your head rests against the back of a tree, you take a deep breath trying to clear your mind. Even though you succeeded in your plan to slip away, it doesn’t take away the hurt that has twisted like a knife in your heart every step growing more painful than the last. Taking shallow breaths, you try to will away the devastation that seems to settle in your entire being.

The connection to your dragon has seemed to go dormant, a hollow feeling taking its place in your soul. You’re unsure if it will ever break completely, but you haven’t tried to pull towards it either. 

Reflecting on the bond, you can’t help but wonder if your dragon is glad to be rid of a rider that let themselves fall into the background. You feel a sense of cowardice and guilt wash over you at leaving everyone to fight the coming war. It’s that heartache of being a coward, for your dragon and beloved, that finally solidified a decision for your probably short future. 

As you were already in Poromiel, you knew there was no going back to Navarre. Besides, the Poromish have been fighting for much longer and are attacked more often if your experience in Resson was anything to go by.  

A few days prior you came across a small village, the people there wary of you dressed in all black leathers. Those reactions caused you to immediately find the nearest tailor and buy a new set of clothes with the little money you had with you.  The tailor was obviously distrusting of you, but no one was going to turn down coin when living in a small village, never knowing when your next sale would be. 

Although you purchased a wool shift dress, you didn’t have enough for a new cloak, hence the tattered holes that riddled yours from days of sleeping in the woods. 

Taking a deep breath, you lay down to get some sleep for the night hoping that the villagers were right, and you will arrive in Pavis in the morning. 

At the first sign of dawn, you sit up stretching out your back and muscles that have cramped during the night from sleeping on the hard ground. As soon as you feel blood flowing back into your extremities, you stand slowly wiping the sleep from your eyes. Staggering forward, you head toward the small stream you had noticed before picking this area to camp for the night. 

As soon as you arrive you drop down and splash the cold water on your face and drink your fill of the clean, cool water. The shock of cold sends a shiver down your body, doing wonders in pushing the last vestiges of sleep from your mind.

You begin walking in the same southeastern direction the villagers had directed you in just four days ago. Letting a small groan fall from your lips, you try to forget the sluggish feeling that has overtaken your body from so many days of travel. 

It’s as if Amari and Zinhal have finally thought to bless you as you finally see a large town come into view. A sigh of relief escapes you as you finally see a town that rivals Chantara and not just a small village with nothing there.

You drag your tired body to the first tavern you see and take a deep breath at the smell of spiced, roasted meats filling your lungs. A second later, your stomach growls loudly in protest of not being filled. Sitting down at the bar, you open your pack fishing for the remaining coin.

Pulling out your small purse, you drop the contents on the bar in front of the barkeep.

“What can I get for this?” You ask, hoping beyond hope that you can get something filling. 

“Not much. I can probably get you a small bowl of stew and a glass of wine.” The barkeep replies giving you a slightly suspicious look. 

It dawns on you that the man can probably hear the accent you have when you speak the Krovlish language. You may be proficient, but it’s been almost impossible to hide your accent.

“That would be lovely.” You say hoping that you can seem as harmless as possible. At least you know that no one will see the daggers that are strapped to your body since the shift you bought covers them well. 

As soon as you exchange the coins, you are presented with a small steel bowl filled with a delicious smelling stew of beef and local vegetables. You dig in, savoring every single bite that begins to warm you from the inside out, letting out a contented sigh as the food hits your empty stomach. As you continue eating, you can see the barkeep watching you from the corner of your eye. In order to beat some of the suspicion, you take the chance and begin talking. 

“Can I ask if you are currently looking for any help?” You ask as you begin to bring the wine cup to your lips. 

The barkeep, a middle-aged man with bronzed skin and dark blue eyes that are clearly analyzing your motives. “You don’t seem like you’re from here. Where are you coming from?”

At the question, you startle slightly but make sure to hide your surprise at the question. “I’ve been displaced since the invasion in Resson.”

You decide that being as truthful as possible will be the only way to go, hopefully garnering the trust of the man you are currently speaking with. The barkeep continues to look you over, but you don’t miss the pitying gaze that he gives you. You can’t help but scoff internally as you realize how in the dark the people of Navarre have become, but obviously venin attacks are openly spoken about.

“I’m looking for a bed and to make some money.” You begin to explain exactly what you’re trying to find. “Eventually, I hope to join the rest of your military to fight against the threat that’s being ignored past your borders.”

“And why would I believe that? You’re obviously Navarrian. What if you’re just here to cause trouble?” The barkeep drolls on, but the calculation in his eyes is obvious. “Besides, I thought only a riot of dragon riders helped to fight in Resson.”

The wince is impossible to keep off your face. Taking a large sigh, you let everything out. You tell the barkeep that you were a rider, having since left your dragon, Basgiath, and Navarre behind. You try to convey the conviction you feel about helping the people of Poromiel and the overarching continent, even recounting the tale of the little girl you saved. As you begin to finish, you can see the hard lines of the barkeep’s expression begin to smooth. 

“I’m not sure how you pulled off leaving a dragon behind, as well as Basgiath, but you seem genuine.” He says matter-of-factly. “Tell you what…We’ll have a trial. You help around the tavern with any tasks given and you can stay on the cot near the kitchens.”

“And, if you’re serious about joining the war effort, I’ll get in touch with those I know in the military and see if I can get you involved.” The thankful smile that falls across your face is a relief from the sadness and fear that had gripped you over the last few days. 

“That sounds wonderful.” There’s no way to hide the earnestness in your voice. “I appreciate your kindness and willingness to give me a chance. Things haven’t been easy the last few days.”

“Well, if you’re going to be staying here, introductions are in order. My name is Redvers, but you can call me, Red. Ceridwen is my wife, and she runs the kitchens.” Red holds out his hand to shake and you take it enthusiastically, happy to finally be able to have someone to at least converse with and give you a chance. 

“I’m Y/N. I really won’t be able to thank you enough for this.”

He chuckles. “Don’t thank me too much yet, you haven’t worked or have even seen where you’ll be sleeping.”

“I doubt any cot could be worse than the cold, hard ground.” You mutter ruminating on how nice it will be to sleep somewhere other than on the forest floor.

“Come, you can begin working tomorrow. Tonight, you can rest and get settled.”

Red leads you to a small room that is only large enough to house a cot and small table. You look back at him and smile as you take your pack off and place it next to the table. 

“Let me know if you need anything, the tavern is usually open late into the evening.” Red says before turning and closing the small door. 

You immediately try to light a mage light and as you try for the third time, it finally hits you. All the powers you had are now gone. You fumble in the room until you find a candle and a flint to light it. As soon as the small flame is lit, you fall to the cot and your head falls back onto the pillow. 

Finally feeling some semblance of safety, all the emotions you’d drowned out since a silver haired girl entered the scene crashes down at once. 

Staring at the beams of the ceiling, you try to normalize your breathing, but its useless. Your body has gone into shock, panic overtaking your every sense. Breathing is erratic, and tears are streaming down your face in a torrent as your body begins to shiver and shake in response to your breaking. You turn to the side and curl up into the tightest ball you possibly can and let yourself fall completely apart. 

You’re unsure of when or how you fell asleep, but as you wake with a pounding headache, you realize at some point in the night your body must’ve given out. The emotion that overtook you taking every ounce of energy you had left in your body. As you trudge from the bed, you look to see someone brought a pitcher of water while you’ve been out. 

Pouring yourself a cup of water and staring out of the small window you hadn’t noticed when you entered, you try to take a deep breath though all you feel is a hollowness. As you stare into the night sky, the sadness of now being alone settles like a heavy cloak. All you can do is count your breaths and hope that you made the right decision. 

A few days go by, and you find yourself getting into the groove of assisting in the tavern. You begin noticing the townspeople that seem to come in regularly. A few fliers have also made themselves known, although you know they have no idea their enemy is feeding them stew and serving them wine and ale. 

You grow close to both Red and Ceridwen, learning of their story and their families. You never thought you would find such wonderful and caring people, especially when you just randomly walked into this space. They welcomed you as if you were the daughter they never had. 

Ceridwen began taking you under her wing and helping cook in the kitchens, teaching you recipes you’d never seen before. It was there that you could hear the conversations and gossip from those coming through the tavern. 

“I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to accomplish with Sorrengail.” Your ears immediately perk up at the name going to stand closer to the serving window of the kitchen.

“Look Cat, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing either way. The betrothal is null and void. There is no reason for you to bother with Riorson any longer.” Your eyes flash as you realize who they are talking about, but then they furrow trying to place the name Cat. 

“You and I both know he’s not really in love with her. If there’s one thing that I learned being betrothed to the bastard is that he’s incapable of feelings besides calculation and revenge.” You’re unsure why but her words about Xaden make your blood begin to boil. 

“Just because he wasn’t emotionally available for you doesn’t mean he’s emotionless. Stop being so petty.” The other girl counters, obviously trying to put this Cat girl in her place.

“Secondly, if that is the case, what would you call the other girl that always had him distracted.” 

“Oh her, she was never a threat. Besides, look how easily she was left behind. The group didn’t even notice they were leaving with a riderless dragon when flying out of Resson. Some feelings he had for her if she was that forgettable.” The defiant tone in Cat’s voice causes a stone to settle in your stomach. 

With the last statement, you move out of earshot of anyone in the tavern. The knife that’s been embedded in your heart since you disappeared turns a little tighter making it hard to breathe. You can’t help but wonder when the knife will just explode and either kill you or leave you so emotionless you can’t be hurt anymore.

The rest of the day passes as if molasses through the eye of a needle. When you are finally able to retire for the night, you fall on your cot and try to breathe through the heartache that seemed to settle inside you, a tight band constricting further and further across your chest. 

When you rise the next morning, you are more set than ever that you need to get to the front lines of this war. If you are going to lose your life, you might as well lose it while trying to fight the real enemy, maybe then the hollow feeling in your chest will stop. 

As soon as you can, you go to speak with Red. “Have you had any luck finding someone to connect you with the military?”

The surprised look on Red’s face is almost comical, maybe he didn’t think you were serious about that part. He motions for you to sit down at a stool, and he sits next to you.

“I spoke with one of the commanders of the drifts. She has instructed that if you are interested, you will have to bring your supplication to Viscount Tecarus in Cordyn.” Red finishes and he looks at you directly as if to ascertain if this is what you want.

“How exactly do I get to Cordyn from here?” Asking that question makes his face fall slightly.

“Are you sure that is the path you wish to take? Ceridwen and I are more than happy to help you and let you continue living here. We’ve both come to enjoy your company over the past weeks.” The sad look that Red gives you causes you to let out a sad smile. You never thought deserting your position as a rider would end up leading you to people who had become surrogate parents. 

You get up and sling your arms around Red. Although startled, he wraps his arms around your waist in a warm hug. 

“You really have no idea how much it warms my heart to hear you say that.” You pause trying to find the right words. “But all my life I’ve been left behind. Now, I have the opportunity to stand up for those who cannot and if I fall doing so, at least I know I died honorably.”

You can see the sadness in his face as he comes to terms with the fact that you won’t be changing your mind. Red gives you a small smile and squeezes your hand.

“Give me a few days and I will help get you to Cordyn. On foot or by carriage it takes several days, but I may be able to get you a flight with one of the gryphons.”

Your eyes widen as you take in his words. “Would a gryphon even allow someone besides their flier on their back? Won’t they know that I was a dragon rider?” You can’t help the thought and fear that grips you. 

“Yes, you would be allowed to fly. And no, they won’t know you were a rider.” Red says with so much conviction your brows knit together. “You see I know a little about bonds, between gryphons and dragons.”

“When a bond is tested by the rider or flier, it can be broken if the gryphon or dragon chooses to do so. I’m unsure if your dragon has chosen to break the bond, as its hard for a human to decipher, but the gryphon won’t be able to sense it as it is buried.”

“How exactly do you know all of that?” You can’t keep the confused look off your face at the new information.

“Because back in my younger days, I was a gryphon flier myself.” Your eyes widen as you take in the new information. 

“Why didn’t you kill me on-site?” The question forms unbidden on your tongue and escapes before you can stop it.

Red gives you a warm smile before stating simply. “Because you fought for those who needed help. You chose to aid someone you were taught was the enemy without question and saved a young girl. Valor like that is worth more than just being classified as a dragon rider or gryphon flier.” 

Without even forming the thought, you find yourself back in his warm embrace. “Thank you for trusting me and recognizing something in me that most other people seem to take for granted.”

“I think you underestimate how many people see your loyalty, honor, and valor. However, I do believe that all those qualities can be taken for granted. It’s not uncommon to be left behind when you quietly lift people up.” He pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. “It isn’t usually until those people lose the person that held them high that they realize everything they had and lost.”

With those words, Red leaves you to get to work getting the tavern set up for the day. 

The parting words seem to continue to float in your mind for days. You never wanted to be taken for granted, but it seemed like your entire life people always just assumed you would be there. You knew that your nature to be a safe haven in the storms of life for everyone was something people loved. However, when it was calm, you always felt that people would let you drift behind. A forgotten force only needed to bolster someone in times of trouble.

Thinking your time at Basgiath over, you realized that you had always been a haven for Xaden and his group. You were constantly there trying to help them in every way you could. What you didn’t realize was that they played you for a fool, taking advantage of your willingness to help. 

Reflecting, you remember all the times you told them about the weapons that Emmetterio would have brought in and even showed them the forge at Basgiath. You had signed up for weapons maintenance, and they ended up having clear access to everything they were looking for from you. You shake your head as all the small things you missed come crashing down. 

Luckily today was a rare occasion where Ceridwen had you going to the market to pick up supplies, so you weren’t trying to serve anyone as the reality of everything began to crash into you. 

You stop on your way to the market and let yourself sink down on a large rock not far from the road. You want to cry, but you just don’t have any tears left to give. Time and time again you feel like you were just a pawn in someone’s game. 

Anger at yourself, Xaden, and everyone that you considered a friend at Basgiath begins to make your blood heat. How could you have been so naïve?

With a tumult of emotions roaring through your body, you head back to the tavern, the market all but forgotten. A new determination coils inside your mind as you realize the only way to get through these feelings is to be useful. You want to get lost in the adrenaline of war, of putting your life on the line and not caring the outcome.

As if Red can read your thoughts, the minute you return to the tavern he is waiting with a dark-haired man in form fitting brown leathers. You pull up short not expecting to have anyone expecting your arrival.

“Ah, just who I was looking for.” Red says as he gestures for you to join him and his companion. 

You begin forward hesitantly not really knowing how to proceed with someone that is so visibly a flier. All of your instincts from years of hearing they were the enemy causing your trepidation to rise, though you try to tamp it down as Red gives you a look of assurance. You take a deep calming breath and know that you must put your trust in the man that has helped you over the last two months.  

“Y/N, this is Drake Cordella.” Red says motioning to the man next to him. Drake immediately puts his hand out to shake yours and gives you a warm smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Drake says warmly, and you give him a small nod and smile in return while shaking his hand firmly.

“Pleasure to meet you as well. I’m assuming that Red has informed you on my want to join the war effort.” You decide bluntness about the whole situation is better than trying to skirt around the edges. 

“Yes, he’s filled me in on your situation shall we say.” A questioning look is immediately shot to Red who is still just smiling back at you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Drake is a close friend of mine. He won’t divulge any information if you wish to keep it secret.” Red reassures you letting your heart settle a little. 

“I assure you, giving up any information on you is the last thing I want to do. However, I am curious as to how things are for you since being separated from your bond for so long.” Taking a look around the tavern, you can’t help the unease that settles at talking about this topic in the open.

“Would you both mind talking somewhere a little more private? I haven’t gone this long without being discovered to out myself now.” You ask, hoping you can go to Red’s office that is at the back and soundproof.

“Of course, lets head to my office.” Red says leading the way to the back.

As soon as the three of you are inside and comfortable, you take a deep breath and share the details of the past two months with them. Divulging the way your bond seems to be underneath a glass layer or buried at the bottom of a clear lake, you can still sense the pull, but it has weakened enormously. Confirming that you haven’t been able to communicate with your dragon or even draw any semblance of power. Turning on mage lights, powering pens, opening and locking doors with magic, all seem to be lost to you with the bond being silent. 

They both seem to listen in rapt fascination. You realize it may not be ideal to tell the ‘enemy’ all this information, but you are certain that you won’t be seeing any Navarrians any time soon. While talking, you watch Drake move to brace his elbows on his knees as if you are telling the most fascinating story he’s ever been told.

“You were one of the riders that fought in Resson?” Drake questions, his face becoming one of contemplation. 

“Yes, I rescued a young girl and killed a venin before, as some would say, I deserted my riot.” You bring your head down to the floor suddenly ashamed of your actions. 

“None of that.” You catch Drake waving his hand off noncommittally at your comment. “You obviously don’t know this, but your disappearance is well known in Poromiel. I believe those in Navarre believe you are dead, at least I believe that is part of the story Riorson and Sorrengail spun.”

Your nose crinkles and stomach sours at the mention of both Xaden and Sorrengail, two names you hope you’d never hear again, let alone see.

“You see, I believe you have someone looking very intently for your whereabouts.” You can’t help the scoff that immediately leaves your lips. If there is anything you won’t believe its that anyone from Navarre is looking for you. 

“Besides, I believe your dragon has kicked up a bit of a fuss for those in the vale if the rumors are to be believed.” You stare back at Drake not believing how much he seems to know about you and your situation. Shaking your head, you decide its time to now get back down to the real business and not idle gossip. 

“Will any of that deter you from taking me to help the Poromish with this war?” You question. “You see, I don’t rightly care about parsing through any attachments to Navarre or any of the people in it. However, I do care about helping as much as I can to eliminate the threat of the venin.”

A sly smile marks a change in Drake’s demeanor moving past the questioning of your ties to Navarre. 

“I respect that is your decision. Red and I have discussed this, and I wanted to see if you would like to accompany me to Cordyn to meet my uncle.” Drake informs.

“If meeting with the Viscount is the only way that I can prove my intention to aid, then I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” The conviction in your voice makes Drake give you a curt nod, even as Red gives you a sad smile.

“Ceridwen and I are going to miss you, Y/N.” Red says sincerity lining every word. “Please know that you will always have a home here.”

Those words cause you to immediately stand and cross the room, wrapping your arms tightly around the man that welcomed you warmly into his domain. 

“No words will convey how thankful I am that you took a chance on me. Thank you for your loyalty, comfort, and love. Without those things, I’m not sure if I would’ve survived much longer.” You whisper for only him to hear. “I will be forever grateful to you for absolutely everything you’ve done for me.”

After giving him another tight squeeze, you head to your rooms to begin packing the few things that were yours. A light knock on the door brings your attention away from combing through the last of the items. Before you can say a word, Ceridwen comes in carrying a small box and a sad smile on her lips.

“Red told me that you’ll be heading out with Drake soon.” She says matter-of-factly moving to stand at your side while you give a small nod. “You may not have been with us long but know that you’ll always be like a daughter to us.”

As she finishes, she hands out the small box to you. You take it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you open it. Inside a black velvet box is a gold necklace with a small round pendant. You examine the pendant, and your eyebrow raises at the runes carved into one side. Ceridwen goes to take the necklace from you and places it on your neck. 

“Keep this on you at all times, especially in Cordyn.” She states firmly. “You may or may not know this, but fliers usually have gifts that entail mind work.”

She pauses as if thinking through her words as she grabs your shoulders and turns you around. “You can trust Drake, but there are those who – if they find out who you are- will do anything to make your life miserable.”

Staring back at Ceridwen, you know that the words she is giving you are for your benefit, not to scare you or coerce you to stay. 

“Thank you.” You begin as you wrap her in a hug just as fierce as the one you gave her husband. “I know we may not cross paths again, but please know how much you and Red mean to me. I told him already, but there aren’t enough thank you’s in the world to give you for everything that you’ve done for me.”

Ceridwen hugs you back just as fiercely before stepping away, you must take a deep breath when she steps back and you see the tears swimming in her eyes.

Not even an hour later, you’ve shouldered your pack and dressed in the only pants and shirt that you had which happened to be some old clothes of Red’s. As you walk out of the tavern, it’s impossible not to turn and give it a once over, committing every small crack, hole, and crevice to memory. Since you had started at Basgiath three years ago, you were unsure if you’d ever be in another place that hurt your heart so much to leave, but now here you are.

As you walk towards Drake, you can see the outline of his gryphon in the distance. The warmth and sadness that you felt leaving the tavern now turning into fear at the creature in front of you. 

Obviously sensing your trepidation, whether from your expression or the way your walk slowed, Drake holds out his hand as if in comfort. 

“I know this will be intimidating, but I promise he won’t hurt you.” Even though his words mean to placate your fear, you can’t help the raise of one of your brows in challenge.

“D-Does h-he know that I’m a dragon rider?” Your voice slides into a quiet whisper as you ask the last part of the question.

Drakes warm chuckle begins to ease the tension that has settled in your stomach. “Yes, just like your dragon, its impossible to get him out of my head.”

You look at Drake in fascination that he can seem to break the tension you’re feeling without doing more than say just the right thing.

“Are you always so comforting? Or do you have some sort of agenda here?” Your hand flies to your mouth in horror that you couldn’t stop your words. Worry is short-lived though when Drake lets out a warm booming laugh.

“I promise I have no ulterior motives.” A cocky smirk falling on his lips. “But I can’t help being born with such a charming nature.”

“And there it is.” You begin to tease as your tension continues to lighten. “I was wondering when your cocky side was going to come out.”

Without even realizing, his teasing had made you completely forget that you were headed directly for his gryphon. As you finally reach the animal, you can’t help but notice the amazing sheen to its feathers that still glints an impossible shade of gold in the moonlight. Everything about the creature seems softer than your dragon, although as you look at the talons below, you know that it can be just as vicious when it needs to be.  

Drake takes your hand and brings it to the gryphon’s face. You look at him uncertainly, your heartrate beginning to spike wondering if this is the part where you get fed to his talons and sharp beak. Although, your thoughts are cut short when the gryphon simply dips it and seems to sniff at your wrist.

“He isn’t going to bite. Gryphons just like to assess a person before they are allowed to ride. They, unlike most dragons, are willing to fly those in need of transportation, especially if their flier deems their purpose worthy.” Drake explains as he continues to hold your hand out. 

“Fascinating.” You say with no sarcasm in your tone. It’s not the first time since you left that you’ve wondered what exactly happened that caused dragons and gryphons to be so hostile to each other. However, you’re unsure if it’s the beings themselves or just the people that they bond with.

After a few minutes more, Drake drops your hand gently back to your side before taking your pack and securing it to his gryphon.

“if you don’t mind, I’d like you to sit in front of me.” Drake begins. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the movement from gryphons compared to dragons is quite different and we don’t want you falling off.”

You shake your head and the next thing you know; he is hoisting you between the gryphon’s wings. 

“Now, you’ll need to scoot a little closer to his neck – yes – right there, perfect.” As he finishes, you are impressed with the ease in which he settles himself behind you. 

Without warning, they gryphon launches into the air, and you find yourself smacking directly into Drake’s chest. Your cheeks burning scarlet, you can do nothing but thank Zinhal it is already dark outside. 

“We’ll be flying at a lower altitude than you’re used to, so you should definitely be able to get some rest.” Drake explains, his mouth unnervingly close to your ear. 

You mentally slap yourself, but you can’t help the flush of your cheeks again. You close your eyes against the feeling, scolding yourself that it hasn’t been that long since a man has showed you attention.

You shake your head at his words and let your mind drift to the beats of the gryphon’s wings. Between the warmth of the lower altitude and the rhythmic flapping, you find yourself nodding off too quickly. 

Your consciousness slowly coming back, you snuggle into the warmth that has seemed to settle into your bones. It isn’t until you recognize the flapping of your wings that you are snapping to attention. Turning your head, you are met with Drake’s warm smile and a teasing glint in his eye.

“Have a nice sleep there?” He teases you. “I’m glad that I was a comfortable blanket.”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you quickly turn around back to the gryphon’s golden neck, the mortification burning in your cheeks.

Drake’s warm laugh breaks your embarrassment. “Don’t worry, it was pretty cute.”

Your head drops again in mortification, and you give a pout at his teasing, a frustrated huff leaving your lips. Though the feeling doesn’t stay around long when Drake begins to point in front of you.

Your eyes now widen, and jaw goes slack in absolute awe. Standing in stark relief to the blue of the coastline is a palace so intricate you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. As your eyes roam quickly, you can’t decide if you should focus on the intricate white walls of gleaming marble, or the pools that look as blue as the sky. Trying to count the seemingly endless number of terraces and small gardens that jut out in all directions, you have a hard time concentrating on any one piece. 

“You didn’t tell me to expect this.” Now looking down at the oversized clothes you are in, you can’t help but feel like a peasant waiting to be judged by royalty. You scoff in your mind because that is exactly what’s about to happen.

“Don’t let the palace and formality fool you. Besides, you won’t have to worry, you’re with me and I know Ceridwen gave you the necklace.” Drake’s tone is a cool calm and you try to infuse your feelings with the same. You are surprised to learn that Drake knew of the necklace but shrug your shoulders knowing that Red and Ceridwen trust him. At this point, you know there is no turning back, although there’s no certainty that you will like what will happen once you step foot in that palace.

Finally landing in a garden off to the side, you look around to see nothing but ornamental shrubs to your left and right. After years at Basgiath and life in Navarre, everything about this place seems overdone. 

Drake dismounts from the gryphon and immediately holds his hand out waiting to steady you as you dismount as well.

“Even though you aren’t a prisoner in any way. I need you to stick close.” Drake says with a serious tone. “You don’t need to fear for your life, but others may be inclined to harm you if they see you walking around by yourself in this clothing. Or at least make your life difficult.”

“What’s wrong with my clothing?” You ask indignantly.

“Nothing,” he says with slight exasperation. “You just have to understand that there won’t be anyone around the palace that doesn’t have a noble’s clothing on. Let’s just say my uncle is a fan of protocol.”

You shake your head understanding now what Drake is trying to convey. “I promise I’ll stick close by.”

Drake motions his hand for you to begin walking and he matches you stride for stride. The closer you get, the more in awe you find yourself. You come to an immediate stop as you look to your right and see nothing but a cloud of butterflies.

You hear a light snicker and turn to see Drake laughing gently at your obvious shock. “I know everything is a lot to take in on first glance, but I promise you can have the grand tour after we get you situated.”

Nodding, you continue walking into hallway upon hallway seeming to get more and more decorative as you descend into the heart of the palace. 

“Good morning, Sterling.” Drake says to a guard standing at two large wooden doors. “I assume my uncle and Syrena are behind there.”

“Yes, Captain. They are both anticipating your arrival.” As he finishes, Sterling looks back at you in judgment and you begin fiddling at his intense stare, but as a soldier he clearly knows better than have his feelings shown on his face.

Drake moves forward and opens the heavy wooden doors, moving them both to the side. You are met with an impressive study dripping with indulgences. There are crystal vases filled with exotic flowers, shelves with thousands of tomes, and fine carpets that have motifs you’ve never seen before.

The shocking details in the room cause you to completely miss the stares of the two other people. But as soon as you look back, you want to do nothing more than back away out of the room.

“Picking up strays now cousin?” The female in the room says. From Drake’s question to the guard, you realize this must be Syrena though you can’t help but bristle at her words.

“If by strays, you mean someone who has previously fought venin, then yes. If you’re just trying to be rude, then screw off.” Your eyebrows shoot up. Of all the things you expected, you never thought you’d hear someone who just met you defend your honor.

“Both of you are acting like children in front of our guest.” A clearly older voice rings out as you watch an older man step out from behind the large desk at the end of the room. 

“Uncle.” Drake says in a slow drawl. “I was in Pavis, and a friend made me aware of someone that was interested in fighting with us against the venin threat. She was there for about two months.”

“I see.” Tecarus says as he begins to walk around you as if inspecting a shiny new toy. “Does our guest possess any gifts or interesting talents?”

The drawl of his voice sounds a shiver down your spine before Drake speaks up again. “Besides combat experience, no she doesn’t possess any other talents.”

Drake looks at you as if wanting to confirm and you give him a small nod.  

“Drake says you’ve dealt with the venin before?” Tecarus asks as he continues to stalk closer to you.

“Yes.” The words leave your lips hesitantly. “I killed one in the combat that I have seen; however, I wouldn’t consider myself overly proficient.”

“Now, now dear. Don’t downplay your abilities. In fact, if the news Syrena has just brought to me is correct, you may have shown up at just the right time.” Drake comes to stand next to his uncle as he continues to make you uncomfortable with his piercing gaze. 

“What news Syrena?” Drake demands to the woman who has begun to step closer as well.

“The venin army is on the move and our intelligence tells us they may be making Zolya and the Academy their next target.” Syrena succinctly conveys the information, no emotion showing on her face.

All teasing in Drake’s face had long since disappeared. Everyone in the room tensed as Syrena continued to explain what the scouts had seen as the most recent movement. A shiver snaked around your body as the extent of the possible attack settled in your mind. 

“Are you planning on evacuating the cadets?” The question slipped from your lips before the thought even fully formed in your mind. 

The three people in the room turned to you seeming to finally remember your existence. You could see the hesitation in Syrena’s face to continue, but soon enough she was going over the evacuation plans for the Academy and the city overall. 

“I’m not a flier, but I would like to help in any way I can.” You hope that your voice is infused with the bravado that is flaring to life inside of you. 

After a few months of trying to bury your past, this seemed like the perfect way to carve out a new role for yourself. Try as you may, you hadn’t been able to get the phantom memories out of your mind. Phantom touches and small moments that had seemed so precious before only burned with dragon fire and stung as a scorpion’s tail. 

Shaking your head, you try to dispel the memories that had still been haunting your dreams. 

“If you’re willing to fight, I’m sure we can find a place for you.” Syrena confirms as Drake clasps a hand to your shoulder in acknowledgment. 

A little over a week later, you find yourself again seated in front of Drake flying towards Zolya. 

For the last week you had been working with Syrena and Drake on fighting, getting outfit in Poromish leathers, and learning as much as you could about the venin and their tactics in Poromiel thus far.

“Before we get to Zolya, we have a stop to make.” Drake says, though his tone belies there is more to this stop.

“Spit out exactly what you aren’t saying.” You spit tersely knowing there is something he isn’t saying.

“You’re going to want to stay with the gryphons and keep the hood of the cloak you have up.” He continues. 

“And you need to tell me exactly what the fuck is about to happen.” You toss back.

With an exaggerated sigh, he continues. “We’re going to pick up weapons from someone I don’t think you’re interested in seeing.”

There is no way that Drake can miss the way that your entire body stiffens like a wooden plank. Of all the things he could have told you, this was the last thing you could’ve possibly imagined. Your head whips around to look at Drake in the eyes.

“Are you telling me that you’re about to pick up weapons from Xaden Riorson.” Your voice comes out smaller than you want, but at this point you know that Drake knows exactly who you are. How would the Poromish not know when they have a bargaining chip?

Suddenly thoughts of betrayal flit across your mind, but before you can spiral too deeply, Drake breaks your thoughts. 

“I promise neither Syrena nor I will say anything about who you are. That is why I’m asking you to raise your hood, cover your face with your handkerchief in your pocket and stay with the gryphons.” You try to take a calming breath as you realize that they are both really trying to make sure that Xaden doesn’t know it’s you. 

Gods. Can you even shield anymore? You immediately begin to test your metal shields and try to reinforce them. The nostalgia that hits you at being back in your mind space is off-putting, the exercise being something you never thought you would do again. 

Sooner than you’d like, you feel the gryphons shift as they begin their descent. Without waiting, you take the handkerchief out of your pocket and tie it over your nose and mouth, after which you bring up the hood of your cloak as the gryphon hits the ground.

Drake easily dismounts and turns to assist you. “Remember, just stay here and keep your mouth closed and this will be over soon enough.” He gives your arm a small squeeze as he turns around and walks towards the small clearing. 

Your breathing begins to pick up as your eyes move to the distance in front of Drake and Syrena and see Sgaeyl and Chradh standing there, the imposing figures of the dragons causing your heart to flutter. All you can do is pray to Zinhal that neither dragon will be able to place your scent, be interested in looking too deeply into you, or tries to delve into your mind. Though no one can see you looking, you watch the entire scene take place. 

The breath catches in your throat as you lay eyes on the man that stole your heart in now what seems so long ago and in a completely different life. You keep your head angled down and let your eyes take in the sight of Garrick standing there next to him, studying them both for any injuries. You can’t say they would care if they knew you were here or not, but that doesn’t stop you from caring about their well-being.

Then the tone of Xaden’s voice brings you out of your reverie. “If you don’t stop with the attacks, we won’t have any choice but to stop the drops. Not only are the cadre already suspicious, but the higher rates in attack are making this harder to accomplish.”

“We are aware Riorson, but there is movement you are unaware of that we are currently on our way to try and contain. Actually, there’s plenty you don’t know, and frankly I’m unsure why the Assembly hasn’t been forth coming with what they know.” Syrena claps back, her tone just as menacing as Xaden’s. After spending time on the other side, you can understand the desperation the fliers are feeling.

“Look, we’ll do what we can.” Drake interrupts, breaking the tension between the two, trying to be the voice of reason. “Just know that the threat is getting increasingly worse. Besides, in two weeks’ time, we may not even be around to collect anything from you.”

“What do you mean?” Xaden asks forcing his tone to be a little calmer.

“I mean that we are trying to stave off an organized attack of a large city that will have more than devastating consequences. I’m sorry to be vague, but is your assembly’s job to inform you, not ours.” With that, Drake turns and continues back towards you.  

As if finally recognizing there is another flier in his midst, you watch with your hood covering your eyes as Xaden’s gaze flicks up to you. You don’t miss the uncertain expression on his face and the way he cocks his head slightly to the side as if trying to place you. If you didn’t know him so well, you would’ve missed the small twitch of his hand indicating he was utilizing his shadows. 

At that same moment, you blink down and see the shifting of shadows around your feet. Using every ounce of restraint, you make yourself stand completely still, letting the shadows coil around your feet in curiosity. Forcing breaths in and out, you solidify the shields you hope still work in your mental fortress as tightly as you can. 

The moment that Drake steps up next to his gryphon, you bring your head up fully and lock eyes with Xaden for one second before you turn and allow Drake to help you up. You keep your head firmly down as Drake mounts and just seconds later you are airborne.

As you drift from the meeting spot, Drake’s chuckle breaks your tumultuous thoughts. 

“Syrena is going to have her hands full the next time Riorson does a drop.” He gets out between fits of laughter. Looking over your shoulder, you give him a quizzical look.

“Oh, so you didn’t see then.” Drake explains wryly. “If I can read people as well as I think I can, Riorson either thinks he just saw a ghost or realized who you were and was so shocked he didn’t know what to do.”

Scrunching your nose at Drake’s comment you turn back to the front and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m assuming that since you said Syrena, you don’t normally have any interaction with Xaden.” You ask, now wondering exactly how this whole operation works.

“No. I don’t usually have time for such things.” Drake huffs an almost indignant sound coming from him, it causes your eyebrow to quirk, but you know better than to pry too deeply.

Falling into comfortable silence, you scan your surroundings noticing the changes in topography as you glide closer to Zolya. If there is one thing you can say for flying on a gryphon is that the lower altitude gives much more visibility to the lands around you. 

As you continue to observe the landscape, the familiar sound of rushing water fills your ears between the beats of gryphon wings. Looking down, the Stonewater River flowing below you can’t be mistaken. As dawn begins to break, you take the opportunity to soak in the colors and sounds of the river below you before the chaos that you are sure will ensue. 

Before you have enough time to absorb the beauty of the nature around you, the feeling of descent makes your stomach begin to rise to your throat. As you bring your eyes to the horizon in front of you, you see the fortress of Cliffsbane Academy rising from the ground. 

The foreboding stone is reminiscent of all the times you flew into Basgiath, but for some reason the fear that used to immediately settle in your bones at Basgiath doesn’t come. Unsure if it is just you moving past the fight of living or just accepting today may be your last, you don’t know. 

As the gryphon touches down in the flight field of the Academy, you can’t help the way your head swings as if on a swivel trying to map out your surroundings. A sarcastic huff leaves your mouth as you realize you are a dragon rider now standing in the beating heart of enemy territory. You wrestle with yourself trying to figure out if this is the best idea you’ve ever had or complete madness. 

Drake immediately dismounts and pulls you down soon after. Not letting any hesitation settle into your bones, you take a deep breath and stand tall, following close behind Drake as he confidently moves towards the entry doors.

“I’ll remind you to stay close by while we’re getting directives and moving everyone into their places.” Drake warns as you both continue to stride down the halls.

“Don’t worry. I have no interest in becoming fodder for the students here who may prefer to see me dead.” You challenge back, although there is no malice there.

Before long, Drake stops in front of two large doors and looks back at you giving you a tight nod. As he opens them, your eyes widen as you take in your surroundings. The rotunda that you have entered is just as big as the one at Basgiath, but instead of dragon pillars, majestic gryphons in different states of flight line the interior. Golds, browns and whites highlight each other in alternating hues from floor to ceiling, where the colors fade into the painting of a beautiful blue sky. 

You aren’t awed for long when you hear a familiar sounding voice call out from the other side.

“Since when is picking up strays a new past time for you cousin?” A female voice purrs with a malignant sneer.

“Catriona, I’m only going to say this once.” Drake begins as he gives the similar looking female a stern look. “Play. Nice. This isn’t about you or some petty score over a man. She is here to help us, so you will treat her with respect.”

Catriona looks at you, eyes narrowed, while Drake continues. “That is an order, not a request.”

“Oh, I can play nice.” Catriona retorts though the mischief in her eyes shows you probably won’t like what follows. “Besides, what could be more of a punishment than being forgotten about not only by a man you thought loved you, but also your own dragon. You must really feel sorry for yourself to end up in flier leathers.”

You can’t help the slight flinch when she finishes her statement, though you can’t understand how she would even know what you looked like. And with that your entire being begins to feel the helplessness and utter betrayal of being left. A grief so sharp, it feels as if your heart may stop, hits you straight between the ribs causing your breath to hitch.

Drake must realize something because soon enough you watch as he grabs Catriona by the arm and gets into her face. “I said play nice. Quit it now.”

Catriona gives you one last glare before turning and walking away. You’re unsure what just happened, but the sting of her words slowly seems to lessen the further and further she gets away.

A clash of steel breaks you from your emotions at you and Drake both turn and stare at the doors you just entered through. A second later, a warning bell whistles out harshly and all hell breaks loose. You watch as flier cadets seem to come racing from all areas of the building.

“Come on, it seems we were a little later in the timing than we should’ve been.” Drake says ushering you towards the heart of the Academy. 

“It’ll be better if we separate. Where can I help in evacuating?” You say while running to keep up with Drake. 

“Follow this corridor and get out everyone that you can. Remember to use the two blades that I gave you if you come across a venin.” You nod your head sharply at the orders and immediately begin running toward the corridor assigned. 

As you go, you knock heavily on the doors before directing anyone coming out to head to the rotunda and towards their gryphons. You try to keep a tally in your head, but as you reach about twenty, your mind starts to spin. 

A dark cloud seems to enter your mind and no amount of shaking your head clears it. Continuing down the hall and constantly trying to clear your mind, you don’t notice the set of billowing robes that is at the end staring straight at you.

“Well, well. I didn’t expect to see you here.” A high-pitched shriek of a voice calls out as you open the door of the last room.

After ushering the last two cadets out, you finally look up and come face to face with the last creature you were hoping to see today.

Venin.

“See me here?” You taunt back in confusion. “You act as if you know me.”

“Oh, we always know a tortured soul when we see one. Especially one so exquisitely bleak as you.” The voice of the female venin shrieks. Your heart begins to race as you try to figure out your best way out of the situation, though things look disheartening when you realize you are at the dead end of a corridor.

“My Sage told me about the girl who was forgotten at the last battle he attended. He could feel the pain radiating off you in waves. He was very disappointed to have to leave you behind.” Everything the female is saying makes your head spin.

Suddenly awareness comes back to you, and you jerk in response to the now close proximity of the female. As you begin circling one another, the thoughts of the possible finalities of this predicament hit you. You don’t have time to dwell though as the female unsheathes a blade and goes to make the first strike.

Immediately parrying, you find yourself completely disadvantaged at the speed the female possesses. You utilize all the training you had done with Xaden and Garrick, but nothing seems to be enough to completely evade her blows. As you aim your own alloyed blade down to strike, you hiss as you feel a blade tear down your left arm. 

A fiery sting erupts from the wound as if hundreds of dragons are firing up and down your arm, but you don’t stop, you can’t. The female steps back slightly admiring her handywork which causes her downfall. You take the move for your advantage and charge directly at her. 

Even though she stepped back, your height made it easy to hit her right between the ribs. A shriek of a scream rends the air as she grabs at the alloyed dagger now protruding from her body. 

Watching as she falls to her knees, you find yourself backing against a wall, the sharp sting of scorpions radiating from your arm. Once the venin falls completely to the ground, you turn and look down. It is then you see the black that has begun to spider down your arm.

You begin to stumble back down the corridor towards the rotunda, hoping that you can drag yourself there. Movement begins to become sluggish as you get closer, hearing the battle still raging around you. Finally reaching the door, you look up and see people being directed out to the adjacent courtyard. Limping forward, you search for the familiar face of Drake.

As luck would have it, on the third pass of the hall, you finally spot him on the far corner. As if acutely aware of your stare, his head jerks up and his eyes land on you. Relief floods his face before it seems to turn to concern as you find yourself slowly sinking to the ground.

“Y/N!” You can hear Drake shout, although everything is beginning to sound far away. The harsh sounds of orders and footsteps seem to make up the background noise in your head, but nothing is clear anymore. Finally hitting the floor, you hiss out a pained breath as it begins to feel as if a thousand needles are running through your veins. 

“Y/N!” Drake shouts again and you see him materialize in front of your face. His voice is both a command and plea at the same time, though you’re unsure why.

As your vision begins to swim black, you think you hear him again. “You’ll be alright. We’re going to counteract the poison; you just need to hold on.”

The burning continues, your body convulsing with the heat of the venom in your blood. You can feel your whole-body tense as waves of fire rolls through. Darkness taking over your vision and your body beginning to slacken as the poison infiltrates your blood stream.

Each fiber of your body feels overloaded with fiery toxin and the loss of adrenaline. You try to open your eyes one last time, but your eyelids won’t obey your command, instead you find yourself slipping into oblivion.

----------

The first thing you notice is the quiet. Without opening your eyes, you listen but are only met with deafening silence. Continuing to lie unmoving, you take a deep breath before trying to open your eyes. Managing to finally get them open, though the effort seems unbearable, you are met with confusion as your eyes stare up at a beautifully decorative ceiling. 

Confusion tugs at your brain as you try to place this room that seems familiar, yet not. The decadence of the bedroom, even only by the ceiling you can see and the feel of the sheets on your bare skin, is something that seems familiar but not at the same time. Slowly, you let yourself move each one of your limbs, from your toes to your fingertips. 

You begin to move your arm and feel a lingering ache on your left. Bringing it up and over the covers your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen at the sight. All along your arm are spidering black veins that seem to penetrate your skin.

“Don’t worry, eventually it will recede.” Immediately your head whips to your right towards the male voice. “It will take some time since we don’t have a mender and only healers, but it shouldn’t cause you any issues.” 

Your eyes encounter the warm gaze of Drake. Never before would you have thought the view of a flier would be a welcome sight, but your life hadn’t seemed to work out the way you’d thought anyway.

“H – How lo-long have I been out?” You rasp your voice scratchy with disuse and in desperate need of water.

While you finish your statement, Drake moves to the table next to the bed and brings you a fresh glass of water. You take the cup and drink greedily, the cool liquid calming the dryness.

“It’s been a week since the venin took Zolya.” Head jerking back towards Drake, your eyes widen at the revelation.

“Wh-what happened to all of those cadets?” Your heart begins to race as you panic over your life being saved over those fliers who were trying to learn and fight for their people. 

Drake gives you a knowing smile. “Don’t worry, we were able to evacuate Cliffsbane for the most part. Unfortunately, as with every battle with the venin, we weren’t able to save everyone.”

Your eyes immediately turn down at the news of the cadets that didn’t make it through the battle. This wasn’t the first time that you felt there was an unnecessary loss of life, and although you tried to make a difference, you always felt lacking.

A warm hand covers your forearm and gives a tight squeeze as you look up into Drake’s knowing eyes.

Days later, you’re finally feeling normal enough to get dressed and move about. Staring in the mirror after a shower, you begin to trace the lines of a particularly dark vein that moves across your chest to your left arm. Although you don’t feel the fiery pain that the poison elicited immediately, the phantom fire still seems to course through your veins as you trace the line. 

“It will fade soon enough.” A sharp feminine voice rasps causing you to whip your head to the right. Fighting the surprise that wants to plaster on your face, you turn to face the two women who are entering into the room you’re staying in. 

Turning around, you watch warily as Syrena and Catriona walk towards you. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company.” The saccharine dripping from your lips a stark contrast to your thoughts of the two women.

“Our Uncle seems to think we will be having Tyrrish company soon and for some reason he wants to dress you for the part of emissary.” The venomous tone Catriona adopts when telling you this information betrays her polite words.

“Dress me?” Your brows furrow at the thought. Hearing of such things happening was no surprise, however, not being part of a political family or born to royalty it was an action foreign to you. 

Syrena steps forward handing you the tunic you were about to put on. “Yes, even though he has more than enough gowns to alter in his repertoire, he wants to put you in something new.”

“Why though? What is he expecting from me?” You look back at Syrena hoping for some semblance of answers, though you’re unsure if she will provide any.

“Unfortunately, he hasn’t revealed what his plan is or what he seems to be expecting.” Syrena confirms. “Though if the consistent nagging I’ve been forced to partake in the last few weapons drops is any indication, I’m sure he’s trying to exploit Riorson’s weakness for you.”

You immediately scoff and roll your eyes at the comment. “Why would he be pestering you? He doesn’t even know I’m still alive, yet alone here of all places.”

“It seems the one look he caught at your eyes has reinforced his belief that you are indeed alive. And that I am more than aware of your whereabouts, which obviously is all correct.” Syrena gives you a deadpan look.

“But who knows why it would matter. He obviously couldn’t care less if he didn’t even notice your absence.” Catriona comments and you loathe to admit to yourself that she’s right. 

Your head begins to hang as the bitterness hardens in your heart at the thought of Xaden leaving you behind without even noticing. But wasn’t that the reason you ran? Didn’t you want him to forget? Didn’t you want to forget him? Unsure where these intense feelings of insignificance and uselessness have come from, your hand grabs at your chest as the ache intensifies feeling as if the organ may leap out of your chest. You try to calm yourself, but you can feel your breaths becoming shallow pants and the control it takes to hold in your sobs is immense.

“Cat!” You hear Syrena’s sharp tone in the background, though it seems like its underwater. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t even have her powers to shut you out.”

Words registering, you try to slam your shields up, but you can’t get past the ache and intense feelings of inconsequence.

“If she wants to be with Riorson, she’s going to have to be stronger than that.” Catriona spits back at Syrena. You try to drown the ache, but it isn’t until you hear the door slam that there seems to be a break in the intensity of the feelings.

Finally, you hear a set of footsteps approaching and look to the side to see Syrena looking at you with concern. 

“I’m sorry. I know Cat can be a piece of work sometimes, but I thought she could be more civil than that considering you saved her life at Cliffsbane.” As your breath finally begins to even out, you look to the side and chance a brow at Syrena’s words. 

“She was the last cadet you pulled out of the corridor you were in and watched you take on the venin. I thought between that and Riorson’s recent actions, she could have some compassion or at least understanding; but I see my darling sisterstill has some things to work on.” Syrena finishes as you finally have your breathing back under control.

“It’s not your fault.” You say as your breath catches again in your throat. “I know from experience how hard it can be to let somethings go.”

Syrena scoffs. “Empathy is not a quality my sister excels at, but it seems you have more than enough for the both of you. I can see why Riorson has lost any semblance of niceties now that you aren’t around.”

“I’m not sure that Xaden has a single nice bone in his body, that’s not exactly his strong suit.” You retort letting the sarcasm lace every word.

“Either way, how about you follow me, and we get you fitted for this monstrosity that I know my uncle is going to make you wear.” Syrena says while motioning you to follow her.

You try to keep your facial expressions neutral as the seamstresses begin their work, but it’s impossible. Every single emotion known to man must pass across your face because you watch as Syrena must hide her sniggers behind her hands at your antics.

“Clearly this isn’t something you’re used to.” Syrena muses as you stare down at the seamstress that is measuring from your waist to the floor.

“I would think that is obvious.” You retort as you move your arms as to not knock into one of the seamstresses scurrying around you.

“Well, you’ll get used to it.” That comment causes you to snap your gaze to the secondary heir to the Poromish throne. 

“I beg to differ. Besides, I don’t see why someone that’s fighting in a war will need a fancy gown again.” As the seamstresses finally step away from you, a deep calming breath and drop your arms as you’ve been wanting to do for the last half hour.

“You do know that Riorson is the rightful Duke of Aretia, correct?” Syrena continues as if you haven’t spoken. “When all is said and done, I’m sure he’ll regain the title, if not more. You’ll most likely be expected to dress the part next to him.”

Tripping over your feet, you barely catch yourself before you hit the ground. “What the fuck are you talking about Syrena?” You demand as your emotions begin to rise, clogging your throat with both fear and hope.

“I’m sure you’ll see.” Her cryptic response does nothing to quell the nauseous feeling that has now settled in your stomach. 

About a week later, you find yourself walking back to your room in the palace at Cordyn after your training session for the day. As you shuffle in, the armoire that houses your clothes that must be worn to formal events sits open. Walking towards the door, your eyes immediately fly wide.

Hanging in the open door is an emerald dress that is something you thought you’d only see in your dreams. The gown is made of layers of gauzy fabric with jewels encrusted over the entire bodice with twirling vines of ivy. You stare at the skirt, and you can’t help but wonder if the sheer layers will cover any part of your body. Vines run up and down the bodice with a few hanging into the layers of the skirt and fabric drapes from the bodice into a full skirt. As your eyes continue to trace the dress, you notice the sleeves that will hang off your shoulders and will at least cover some of the black veins that still spider on your arm.

Every ounce of the dress looks as if it is fit for a queen, not a mere soldier barely scrimping by. 

“I believe you’ll look absolutely stunning in that my dear.” The oily rasp of the voice behind you causes you to step back. You turn and stare back into the eyes of Viscount Tecarus.

“If my intel is correct, I believe we will be having a few guests join us this evening.” Tecarus continues coming to step in front of you. “And I’ve come here to tell you what you’re going to do.”

“I see.” You say but your trepidation is clear, even to your own ears. “And what exactly is that?”

“You will be escorted to dinner with Drake; however, you will not make your appearance known until after everyone has joined. There will be a guard to inform Drake of when to enter. You will keep to your chamber between now and then.” There is no denying the calculation that the Viscount has done.

“Once there, you will get the rest of your instructions. I’m unsure of how much Riorson knows about your whereabouts exactly, but from what we’ve pieced together he knows you’re in Poromiel. However, he has made no indication that he knows you’re here.”

“I’m not sure what exactly you think I can do for you with him. As you remember, I was left behind in Resson and from what I can tell, that was that. No one has tried to find me.” You try to explain and keep your voice level. 

As the conversation continues, it takes everything for you not to bolt from the fortress and not look back. Coming face to face with Xaden again is the last thing you want to do. 

“Yes, that may be what you think, but my dear, there are many things you don’t know.” With that, the Viscount walks out of your room but not before giving you a smile that tells you this evening isn’t going to be any fun. 

A few hours later, two ladies’ maids have come to take care of your hair, makeup, and dress you for the evening. Standing fully dressed and looking in the mirror, you are shocked at the reflection that stares back at you. 

The maids have curled your hair and left it half up and down, braids are intricately woven in and out at the top with golden chains woven throughout. Your eyes pop after having been lined with charcoal and the suppleness of your lips are highlighted the dark red of a ripe raspberry. Though the one thing that you can’t stop staring at is the dress that you now don. The emerald color complements your skin immaculately and falls to accentuate every curve of your body.  You’ve never seen yourself look so beautiful, regal even. 

“What my uncle lacks in battle strategy, he certainly makes up for in style.” Drake’s voice drips like honey behind you and you turn quirking your eyebrow. “You look absolutely beautiful, ever the regal queen.”

Even with the compliment, you give him a deadpanned look. “I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to survive this night alive.” He quips, chuckling slightly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your irritation barely contained.

“Riorson might just have my head for escorting you.” Drake continues with his jibes. “Especially when everyone’s eyes will be on you.”

“Ha. Ha.” You let the sarcasm drip from your lips like molasses. 

“Seriously though, I’ve already seen the riders that are joining us, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so tightly wound.”

“Him who?” The look Drake gives you makes it obvious that he knows you’re being ridiculous. Letting out a long-suffering sigh, you let yourself slouch feeling defeated even though your night hasn’t even begun.

Looking you over, Drake goes to the dressing table in your room and picks up the necklace that Ceridwen had gifted you. “I need you to remember to wear this whenever you’re around Catriona from now on, do you understand?” The serious look in his eyes causes you not to question his decree and just nod your head in confirmation.

A knock on your door breaks the silence and your heart begins to speed. Breathing has turned into a chore, and you’ve begun pacing back and forth, eyes trained down at the floor and shaking your hands as if trying to dispel the feelings you’re feeling. 

“Hey.” The sternness of the voice the only thing breaking through your reeling thoughts. 

“I know this is going to be a long evening, but I need you to breathe.” Drake soothes taking your hand in his and guiding you to slow your breathing. “Never forget that you don’t have to leave, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If anything, you should go down there with your head held high and show Riorson the strong and beautiful woman he let disappear.”

It’s all you can do to focus on your breathing and shake your head. Drake begins to walk towards the door and holds out his arm for you to take. Letting yourself move forward slowly and continuing to take deep breaths, you try to remind yourself that whatever happens this evening doesn’t matter. Soon enough Xaden will be on his way home and you’ll be free to throw yourself into the war like you’ve been wanting to, preferably as far away from him as possible. 

Letting your mind wander, you take in the scenery of the palace as you walk. Looking to your left, you watch the shimmering coastline that seems to sparkle with the night sky, though you can feel the heaviness that is settling in the air around you forecasting the coming rain. Watching the waves crash calms your racing thoughts as you continue to walk forward on Drake’s arm.

Far too soon, you stare at a familiar set of doors and your heart has now leapt into your throat. Before the guards open the doors, Drake turns to look at you, his expression serious.

“Before we go in there, I just want to say I’m sorry for whatever happens tonight. It’s important to me that you know I had no part in whatever plan my uncle intends to carry out tonight and I tried my damnedest to keep you as far away from this as possible.” The concern in his eyes shines as he finishes talking. You have no idea what to reply, so you just give his arm a squeeze back in acknowledgement before the doors are opening. 

Turning to face forward, you take a deep, shaking breath as Drake continues to guide you forward and down the stairs. Your free hand is now balled into a fist so tight, you’re unsure if you are drawing blood or not. Descending, you can’t help but feel the weight of the stares of all the people gathered at the palace. Searching left and right, you try your hardest not to encounter the onyx eyes that you haven’t seen in months, the anxiety eating at your very being. 

Drake’s warm hand falls over yours and squeezes bringing your gaze back to his, the gesture grounds you as you continue to walk forward. The small comforting smile that he offers you helping to bring your breathing back under control and alleviate a tinge of the anxiety.

A voice breaks your gaze from Drake’s as you hear the words uttered from further in front of you. “Ah, here’s the other guest that we’ve been waiting on.”

Whirling your head towards the sound of Tecarus’ voice, the breath completely leaves your lungs. In front of you is the last person you ever wanted to see again, but you can’t tear your eyes away. 

Standing before you in a tunic tailored to every line of his body is Xaden Riorson. His hair perfectly windswept and strong features on display for all to see. Though the thing you notice most is the taught lines of his body and the way his eyes look sunken and more tired than you’ve ever seen them as he stands in front of you. The rest of the room seems to fall away as you stare back at each other, him in disbelief and you in resignation.

A fire begins burning in your chest, one you didn’t expect. Anger that you hadn’t realized you were holding onto starts to blaze as you watch Xaden. Your nostrils flare in irritation as your eyes finally move to the woman standing next to him. 

Sorrengail. 

The sneer on your lips comes unbidden, though you don’t let your eyes linger on her before looking to the two others standing next to her. Gaze going between the three, the realization hits you as you notice the similarities in their features, her siblings.

Closing your eyes and taking a calming breath, you open your eyes and bring them to Tecarus, ignoring the way Xaden fidgets as if he is barely keeping himself in place. 

“I believe now is the time to discuss the business we have here.” The male Sorrengail sibling says, obviously trying to break the tension.

You keep your eyes trained on Tecarus, but it’s impossible not to notice the way that Violet tries to get Xaden to step back, as you notice he can’t stop himself from taking steps forward. You roll your eyes at the gesture, of course she would be the one to control him.

A chill crawling up your leg causes you to shiver and look down. Unsurprisingly, shadows swirl at your feet, and you know if you parted your skirt, you would find them shifting around your legs. 

Getting pulled back slightly causes you to look down and realize the tight grip that you had on Drake’s arm as he still held your arm in his. You give him an apologetic look, but it doesn’t last when a black tendril of shadow tugs at your arm as if to pull it from Drake’s grip. 

Pivoting, you send a sharp look to Xaden, a silent command to drop his shadows. However, he doesn’t see it as he is only glaring at your hand that is still holding Drake’s arm and then back at the man himself.

“Now that all our guests have arrived, Riorson, we can continue our discussions for the luminary.” Tecarus says as if he is doing something magnanimous, causing your eyes to roll. 

Violet goes to step up and begins to raise her hands to wield, but she is quickly cut off. “No, no, my dear. I want you to wield from the beautiful arena below. In fact, I have a few things to go through before we start.”

“You,” Tecarus says while pointing to Violet. “Will head down to the arena floor and I have a target I want you to hit with your lightning. If you’re interested in bringing anyone with you, you may - except him.”

Xaden goes to step forward, but for some reason you don’t understand, he seems torn. “Don’t worry Riorson, you won’t need to move from where you are. In fact, things will deteriorate if you do.”

Your brows furrow, but soon enough you have stopped paying attention when you’re grabbed by two guards. As your head swivels left and right trying to understand, you see the murderous look that is plastered on Xaden’s face and the undeniable anger on Drake’s.

“Tsk. Tsk. Don’t move any further if you want that luminary Riorson.” Xaden’s footsteps immediately falter, but his eyes turn to anguish. 

“Fuck the luminary.” Xaden growls as he goes to take another step towards you, but he stops in his tracks when you give him a look telling him ‘No’.

“You, dear Xaden, have one task.” Tecarus looks to you, a disturbing gleam in his eye. “You cannot move from this balcony. If you dare take one step towards the arena, our dearest Y/N will fall to the arena floor.”

As Tecarus finishes, the guards, that grabbed you, push you into a golden cage. You rattle the door you were thrown in, even though you saw it locked behind you. You can’t hide the betrayal on your face and at this point you’re unsure if there is anyone you can trust. 

“That’s what you wanted. To dress me up like a beautiful bird that lives her life in a gilded cage. To dangle me for what? To prove that I don’t matter to any of them? That I don’t matter to him?” The rage building in your heart at the betrayal you’re feeling, an overwhelming monster threatening to tear the entire palace down. 

“And what can I assume you will do if I don’t follow your instructions?” Xaden growls out, the blazing hot fury causing his voice to drop low. 

“You see that’s where the fun begins.” The giddy elation in Tecarus’s voice causes your glare at the disgusting man to intensify. “We get to see who is really more important to you and you get to see what happens when you don’t follow my commands.”

You look down at the arena floor where Violet now stands with her siblings. “Now remember, the minute you make a move towards the arena, the cage opens, and you are responsible for any consequences.” The danger dripping from Tecarus lets you know that he has no intention of letting Xaden get through this unscathed and is taking immense amounts of pleasure from his plan.

Taking time to look at the cage you find yourself in, you notice the latch that you are sitting on and trace the chain that falls from the bottom to a guard standing close to you. A jerk of the cage has you jostling from side to side as the cage begins to move. 

“This is ridiculous uncle. Bring her down right now.” Drake’s voice breaks from the din of whispers that have only gotten louder since your placement in the gilded cage. 

Eyes darting from side to side, you realize that you are now not only caged, but dangling above an arena that is soon going to be covered in lightning. 

“Oh Amari.” The words woosh from your lungs as the certainty of your imminent demise begins to settle in your bones.  

The certainty solidifies as you watch guards bring a chest into the middle of the arena. Watching wearily, your eyes bulge when you watch a venin tumble from the chest. Your gaze swings back to the balcony and watch a satisfied smirk plaster on Tecarus’s face. A movement to the left has you meeting Drake’s gaze, he makes a motion towards the bodice of your dress, and you look down. Unsure exactly how or when, you find yourself in possession of one of the alloyed daggers that you’ve killed the previous venin with. It’s then you know what you must do.

In lieu of Xaden losing his life because of Violet’s death, you make the decision that you’ve been dreading. Standing in the cage and picking up your foot, you drive it down as hard as possible, the heel cracking through the latch on the bottom. 

“Y/N!” A male voice roars your name, but you don’t look to see who it is.

The sensation of falling hits you immediately, but using everything you’d learned at Basgiath, you soften your blow to the ground just the tiniest bit in order to keep from breaking anything. You roll to your feet, and curse the ridiculous dress that you find yourself tangled in. 

Although you know your exit and landing wasn’t that quiet, the venin hasn’t seemed to notice your presence. Your eyes catch Violet’s as you begin to move forward, silently conveying your command for her to keep him talking. Unsheathing the dagger that was held at your ribs, you slowly make your way towards the creature trying to keep your steps measured and slow.

The venin begins to crouch to the ground, and you know you don’t have much time.

“Y/N! NO!” The same male voice repeats, though now there is a hint of absolute desperation and panic.

Running as swiftly as you can in the outrageous skirt of the dress, you bring the dagger up in preparation to strike. Right before you make your move, the venin turns his hand jutting out and grabbing you by the neck his read eyes bulging. 

“Quite the prizes I’ve been led to. The sage will reward me handsomely for bringing both the lightning wielder and the pained one.” He hisses, spittle hitting your face. For a monstrous creature that has been denied the ability to channel for so long, it strikes you how powerful he is still, even in a weakened state. 

“I may be full of pain, but I’ll never meet your master.” You hiss breathlessly as you bring the dagger to slash the venin’s arm. Hissing in pain, the venin drops you to the ground and you cough trying to get breath back into your body.

Taking one deep drag of air, you jolt up and slam the blade of the alloyed dagger into the venin’s chest. A triumphant smile crosses your mouth, but it is short lived when you see the venin raise a dagger that you were unaware he possessed. You take two steps back before the venin slashes the blade across your chest.

“Y/N!” Violet screams, as the awaiting storm finally breaks and soaks everything. As you both drop to the ground, the bright red of the venin’s eyes turns to a dull ruby and his skin begins to grey. Landing fully on the ground, the breath is zipped from your lungs and your hand instinctively goes up to cover the slash across your chest. 

The warm and viscous blood flowing from the wound coats all your fingers as you bring them up to your face to see, the metallic smell wafting to you through the raindrops. 

“Brennan, mend her!” Violet’s voice seems further away than it was before. 

Closing your eyes, you let yourself focus on the feeling of the rain falling down your face instead of focusing on the pain of your injury. Soon enough you drift off, a sense of contentment washing over you. You may not have saved yourself, but you saved those who can better save the continent.

“Y/N, please open your eyes. Please.” A familiar male voice says in a desperate, coaxing tone, though you can’t bring yourself to obey the command. You feel a large, calloused hand stroke your cheek and then card through your hair, finally coming down to lace with your fingers.

“She’ll be fine Xaden. Brennan mended her. You couldn’t ask for her to have been seen to sooner than that.” A female voice tries to coax who you’ve realized is now Xaden.

“You don’t know that.” You can hear the frustration in his tone back at the female. “She almost killed herself trying to save you.”

Reality slams back and you now know that you won’t be opening your eyes for the two people who have haunted you for months. The last thing you need to see is the man you love with the woman that caused you to be forgotten. 

“We need to go anyway. Tecarus is expecting all of us for negotiations.” Violet tries to reason with him.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Each word drips out of his mouth with vicious certainty. A knock on a door seems to halt their conversation.

“Your presence is required for our negotiations I’m afraid.” Your emotions settle as you take note of Drake’s voice breaking the conversation.

“You can tell your fucking uncle he should be glad I didn’t send him to meet Malek today for the stunts he pulled, and I’ll come when Y/N is awake.” Xaden replies in a menacing growl, his fingers tightening on yours as if afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Look Riorson, you may not believe me, but I agree with you. Everything that happened tonight is despicable.” Drake begins catching you off guard. “But you shouldn’t spit in the direction of Y/N’s sacrifice that she made tonight by not participating in negotiations.”

“If it would be any consolation, I can stay with her until negotiations are done. If for some reason she wakes between now and then, I’ll have someone fetch you immediately. However, in hopes to move things along, we all need this discussion about the luminary to be decided upon.” Drake explains with as much diplomacy as possible.

Silence greets your ears for a few minutes before anyone speaks. 

Drake must’ve given Xaden the confirmation he wanted as a minute later you feel the hand wrapped around yours squeeze tightly and a cool feeling whisps around your wrist, wrapping in tightly.

“Fine. But I’m not leaving her completely. You’ll have to deal with a few shadows if you want me to participate in this bullshit.” Xaden says plainly, though his tone begins to darken at the end. “And you better keep your damn hands to your fucking self Cordella.”

You expect to hear the sound of retreating footsteps, but instead the bed dips and you feel warm breath ghost across your face.

“Y/N, Love, I need you to wake up for me. I promise you I’m not leaving this damned place without you awake and Malek will take me before I fly out of Cordyn without you. Please, my Blaze. Please wake up.” Xaden whispers in your ear before you feel him leave a lingering kiss on your temple. 

The bed shifts again and you hold your breath until you hear the door click shut.

“You aren’t very subtle you know. I can tell you’re awake.” The humor in Drake’s voice is dry. 

Your eyes flutter open and look directly at him. The eye roll and slight shake of your head doesn’t stop the way your mouth ticks up at the corner. 

“What can I say? I was just waiting to have you all to myself.” You tease but the smile doesn’t last as you wince in pain trying to sit yourself up. 

Looking down to the shadow at your wrist, you lift it up with a pointed look. “Did you really need to allow this?”

Drake’s laugh is cynical. “Allow? You may have heard the words Riorson just said but you haven’t been awake for the last 3 hours. If you’d seen what I have, you wouldn’t be pushing too many of his buttons.”

“I highly doubt he enjoyed watching his dear Violet’s life endangered, but I took care of it.” The flat tone of your voice giving away the hurt. 

Swinging your feet to the edge of the bed, you look down to see someone has changed you into a silk sleeping gown. Your hand then goes up as your eyes catch on the new raw scar that slashes across the left side of your chest. Trying to comprehend, you just can’t understand how you’ve evaded Malek’s grip once again. 

“Violet?” Drake chimes in as he walks closer to your side. “Is your whole existence now dependent on avoiding the fact that the man that just left this room is irrevocably in love with you?”

“Don’t.” Your voice drops to a deadly whisper. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to judge what I think. You haven’t been around for the last year and a half, or do you not remember that I fucking ran away from that man and my dragon.”

Your voice is gaining in its fire, and you can feel your body begin heating with the anger coursing through every nerve. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Drake hesitantly begins sounding suitably chastised. “I understand that with whatever happened between the two of you, he has a lot to explain and atone for, but did you not see how sunken in his eyes are?”

You drop your head down and let your anger fester. There is no way you’re going to let anyone make you feel bad for leaving, even though there was no mistaking the sallow color to Xaden’s eyes and deep purple smudges below them. 

“Will you at least let me tell you what happened on the balcony? At least let me give you some information before he inevitably comes back.” You give a curt nod, but only because you know that there isn’t any way you can completely evade Xaden, not now. 

“Besides, someone needs to chide you for being as reckless as you were.” Your head jerks up and the look Drake gives you shows he was vastly unimpressed with your performance. “Did you really need to try and kill both me and your shadow wielding, hot head by dropping yourself from that cage?”

You give him a dead-panned look. “What’s the difference? Your uncle dearest wanted to play games, so I bent the rules.”

With a roll of his eyes, Drake goes on to relay the chaos that you were completely unaware of, obviously too engrossed in dispatching a venin and then almost meeting Malek for the second time in just a few weeks.

 The male voice you heard shouting your name was apparently Xaden, both he and Drake, flew to the arenas edge once you started falling. Though Xaden’s focus didn’t stay long on the battle once you killed the venin and were mended, apparently turning to let his wrath at the situation out on the Viscount.

Drake imparts the threats Xaden carried out, wrapping his shadows around Tecarus’s neck and slowly constricting, and the bedlam that followed. He confirms you were mended by Brennan, as Violet had already stated, and then Brennan had carried you up the steps of the arena. 

Somehow Violet had broken through the spell of anger that Xaden was in, and he had immediately turned towards the Sorrengails. Seeing your limp form in Brennan’s arms, Drake confirmed he had taken you from him and stalked off not bothering to say anything to anyone.

“I’m unsure if I’ve ever seen the burning hatred in someone’s eyes shine as brightly as Riorson’s did tonight. I’m unsure of exactly what control he used, but if he had any less, he may have taken out the entirety of the line of succession of Poromiel.” Your head turns cocking an eyebrow at Drake’s words. 

“How exactly did I end up here? And where exactly is here? This isn’t the room I normally stay in.” You ask as you finally look around the room. 

“No, this isn’t your room. This is Riorson’s room from when he used to make regular visits to Cordyn.” Drake confirms.

“You mean when he was engaged to your cousin?” You snipe back, the bitter taste in your mouth causing you to scowl.

“Not engaged. Betrothed. Not something I chose.” Xaden’s voice causes you to jump and your head to turn swiftly towards the door that has just opened. 

The minute his eyes meet yours, the way they soften and swirl with a plethora of emotions, has your heart breaking in your chest. Your head drops down and you stand, immediately trying to leave the room. 

“No.” The word leaves his mouth breathlessly and he’s crossing the room quickly stopping you from going anywhere. “Please Blaze – please stay.”

Of all the ways you’ve heard Xaden talk, in the years knowing and loving him, you had never heard his voice so broken. 

“Why?” The word passes your lips before you can stop it, but now that it has you know there is no way to take it back. 

Pulling back from Xaden’s grip, you look up into the eyes you had been avoiding. A sigh leaves your mouth, though you can feel your chest tighten, as you see the anguish and sorrow clearly on his face. The man in front of you has never looked so lost, broken, and utterly defeated.

“Do you know how long I was waiting for you to sound so desperate for me in the last year?  To not feel like you had forgotten about my existence? Did you even realize the way you left me behind?” The questions rush from your lips in a torrent, and you have to bite down on your lips to avoid more from spilling.

Have you broken Xaden Riorson?

Is the only thought you manage to have as you watch the tears slip down his cheeks.

Your head is spinning with the emotion that is ripping from the man in front of you. As much as your brain holds onto the anger that had settled in you, your heart is shattering watching him crumble before your eyes. Your hand comes to your chest as your throat begins to close trying to hold back your own tears. 

Your vision begins to swim with tears as suddenly Xaden moves. He crashes to his knees as he grabs you by the waist crushing you to him so tightly you know there will be bruises there tomorrow, though you don’t focus on that when you hear the sob tear from his throat.

 Standing there frozen in place, your emotions war within you on whether to push him away or try to comfort him. In the end your heart wins out and you rake your hand through his hair. The gesture causes his breath to catch in his throat and his hold on you to tighten even further. 

Bringing your hand down and placing your fingers under his chin, you tilt his head up to look him in the eyes. As he does, you can’t help but trace the tears still falling from his eyes wiping them as they continue to dampen his cheeks.

“Xaden.” Your voice comes out as a calming whisper. “You need to breathe for me, alright?”

He gives a short nod as he tries to calm his breathing while still being plastered to you. Your fingers absentmindedly stroke his cheeks, keeping a steady rhythm to help soothe him. 

As his breathing begins to level, he takes both of your hands in his and kisses your palms slowly rising to his feet. 

Not letting go of your hands, he pulls you to the bed and sits you down next to him. You try to pull your hands away, acutely aware that Violet could walk in at any second, but he tightens his grip further. 

“Y- you d-don’t know h-how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you again.” The confession comes out in a stuttered whisper as Xaden continues to pull your hands forward trying to tug you closer and calm his emotions. 

You can’t help the incredulous look you give him. After everything that had happened over the last year, you never believed that Xaden would even care about seeing you again.

“Forgive the brashness Xaden, but I have a hard time believing that with everything that happened at the end of our relationsh-.” As you finish, Xaden doesn’t try to hide the way his breath hitches as you draw a line in the sand of your relationship, but he quickly cuts you off. 

“Don’t.” The word comes out with such force you immediately rear back a bit. “That wasn’t the end. This isn’t either.” He says firmly brooking no argument. 

As he finishes, your head cocks to the side and the look you give him is filled with resignation. “I don’t think you’re allowed to make that call alone. Besides, I’m sure Violet wouldn’t want to hear that.”

At the mention of the silver-haired girl, Xaden picks up his hand and grabs your face with deliberate force, directing you too look candidly into his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what Violet wants. My relationship is none of her fucking business.”

You scoff and try to pull your face away. “I believe it is her business if she’s part of that relationship.”

A frustrated growl slips from his lips as he gets a better grasp on your face. “I’m. Not. With. Violet.” Each word is punctuated through grit teeth.

“More fool me then. Left behind for someone you aren’t even with.” You can feel yourself getting nasty, the attitude and anger lying dormant rising to the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Between the words and the way Xaden is looking at you, it’s as if a cold bucket of water has been poured on you and doused the fire that had begun to race through your veins.

“Excuse me?” You ask incredulously, furrowing your brows because you’ve never heard Xaden say those words.

Xaden takes a deep breath, and confusion becomes shock as he grabs you and pulls you on his lap, his forehead resting on the side of your head as his hands wrap tightly around your waist. “I’m. so. fucking. sorry.” The words leave his mouth punctuated slowly as if to convey their importance. 

He raises his head, and you turn to look him in the eyes. “There aren’t enough words in this world for me to tell you how fucking sorry I am. I’ll apologize to you every damn day for the rest of our lives, but I need you with me.”

After being hurt so thoroughly by this man, you find yourself unable to stop throwing words in his face. “I’m certain that the last year has proven quite the opposite.”

Your words clearly strike a nerve when he flinches, though the movement doesn’t last long. 

“I deserve every ounce of your ire. All the pain you’ve felt tenfold.” He says simply. “And I will gladly accept every ounce of venom you can toss my way. Use daggers if you want to. Make me bleed. But please, come with me.”

“I can’t.” The words are out of your mouth in an instant. There is no way you’re just going to fold to the man in front of you. “Pretty words aren’t going to fix this.”

The look of anguish on Xaden’s face makes your gut twist and your chest feel too tight. 

“They aren’t just pretty words.” The pleading and anguish in his voice is on full display. 

“Your actions for the last year spoke louder than all the words you’ve ever told me. No matter how much I want to believe them.” An emotion flashes in Xaden’s eyes, but it’s gone before you can decipher it.

“Gods Xaden, we’re even having this discussion in a place that you’d been aiding for years, but did I know anything about it. No!” Your voice begins to rise as you gesture around the room. “You’ve been aiding Poromiel, been betrothed to an heir to the throne, and when things blew up in Resson did you even notice my reaction? Or was calming the lightning wielder down just that more important?”

“You think I don’t know how much I’ve fucked up? I’ll spend from now until I meet Malek showing you that needing you isn’t just pretty words. That all the things you didn’t know were not because I didn’t want to tell you, but because I wanted to keep you protected.” The words become harsh as Xaden’s conviction begins to solidify. “You are as vital to me as the fucking air that I breathe, and I haven’t taken a full breath since I realized you were gone. I know I fucked up for the last year. Hell, probably even longer than that, but nothing in this world is more vital to me than you.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between Xaden’s eyes looking for lies, but it hits you suddenly he looked at you the same way for years not giving away any of his secrets.

“I want to believe you. Really, I do.” You start. “But this time you’re going to have to show me, before we are anything again – if we even can be.”

“I’ll do anything you want me to do, but you have to come with me back to Aretia. I want to take you home. To my home and I want to make it yours.” Xaden has slowly walked back towards you leaving little space in between, the scent that you always associated with comfort, mint, leather and the essence of him assaults your nostrils and it takes everything you have to not bury your face in his chest.

“I’ll give you this.” You begin taking a few steps back out of his orbit. “You’ll have the opportunity to show me that what you’re saying is the truth, but I’m not coming with you to Aretia.”

His arm shoots out trying to drag you back to him, but you put up a hand to stop him. “No. If you want any chance at all, you’ll respect my decision.” 

Turning around one last time before exiting his room you look up at the man that brings you both comfort and tears. 

“I’ll always love you, Xaden.” Your voice is quiet as you leave him with parting words, sadness coloring the lines of your face. “But this time you’re going to have to be the one fighting, because I refuse to be forgotten again.”

With that, you let the door fall closed behind you but not before you see the absolute look of desperation on Xaden’s face. Walking away a few paces, you can’t help but overhear the shout of agony from the room you just left as you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

“Come on.” A gentle voice says as you continue down the corridor. Your head turns to the voice as a blanket is thrown over your shoulders and the now familiar warmth of Drake settles over your shoulders. “Let’s get you back to your room for some rest.”

Days later after the delegation from Aretia has left, you are walking in the garden trying to clear your mind from the reeling it’s been doing since Xaden stepped back into your life. As you walk, you let your hand trace over the beautiful roses that line the path, taking in the overabundance of colors that strike against the backdrop of the white palace. 

You close your eyes trying to absorb the smell of the roses and calm your racing mind, but the peace doesn’t last long. A shriek comes from inside the palace causing your head to jerk in the direction and your eyes fly wide. 

Coming in at a rate too fast to seem friendly is a dragon on a collision course with the palace. On your left and right you watch as gryphons launch in the air. You stare with wide eyes, you breath stuck in your throat, as the gryphons descend towards the incoming threat. 

Soon enough though the gryphons turn and come towards the palace as well in the formation of an escort. Your brow furrows as you wonder who exactly has returned to Cordyn so soon. 

‘No one, Loyal One. I’m here for you.’ A crisp female voice races through your mind. 

Your eyes flare as you look towards the incoming dragon, familiarity hitting you like a stone as you watch the coppery sheen of your brown swordtail coming closer and closer.

‘Dhìoch. H-how?’ You don’t need to finish the sentence of how she knew you were here.

‘Sgaeyl. You didn’t think the Brooding One was going to let you be alone with the enemy, did you?’ You mentally curse Xaden and his inability to leave well-enough alone.

‘There’s plenty he doesn’t know.’ You snark, although your mind begins to race as you realize your dragon just might burn you to the ground for your actions.

‘I see that, Loyal One. You have been busy these past months, even without any powers. I knew I was right in my choice, although many have questioned me since your abrupt departure.’ There’s no mistaking the anger in Dhìoch’s eyes as she lands in the garden, talons digging up the gently manicured bushes you were just admiring.

‘I’m sorry Dhìoch, but I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I figured you just severed our bond and found a more worthy rider.’ Even your mental voice becomes small, your own insecurities shining through.

‘You do not apologize.’ Dhìoch says surprising you. ‘Although you were reckless and abrupt, I understand why you did what you did.’

‘However, if you ever think you can leave me again, I will burn you and we will burn together.’ There’s no evading the scathing look from the beautiful, bronzed creature in front of you and there is no way you are going to challenge her threat.

‘I understand Dhìoch and I won’t allow myself to become that forgotten girl again.’ You confirm and Dhìoch sends an acknowledging hum through the bond.

With Dhìoch back at your side, you spend days working on repairing your shields and practicing your signet. It doesn’t take long as everything moves through you like a stream that had been denied water, the feeling of being whole again finding its way to you.

Syrena and Drake spend time training with you when they are in Cordyn and thankfully let you know whenever there will be a new drop of daggers. Between trying to avoid Catriona before she left for Aretia and then trying to avoid Xaden, you find yourself always playing a game of hide and seek. 

Unfortunately, when you are playing against a shadow wielder, you luck is more often than not, terrible.

“Blaze.” Your eyes immediately roll as you continue walking back to the training fields itching to get away from him. But the man of shadows will have none of it. A cool whisp wraps around your wrist and tugs causing your steps to tumble slightly backwards and into the chest of the man basically running you down. 

“Will you stop calling me that.” Your voice rasps in irritation at the man now holding you by your waist against his chest.

Before you can so much as turn, he buries his face in the side of your neck and his arms slither all the way around your frame before you hear a breathy response. “No.”

“Why?” You ask tersely as you try to pry yourself free.

“Because there is no alternative I will accept, then you burning with me. You’ve always been an all-consuming flame, whether passion or hatred and I’ll never let your blazing glory go.” Xaden says, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks.

Huffing, you are finally able to tear yourself from his grip. “Is there something you needed? Or are you just here to torment me?”

You don’t miss the way he flinches at your scathing tone, but you’re in no mood. 

“I’m making another drop.” He says simply.

“Aren’t there other people in this group of yours that could do such a menial task?” You ask as your hand gestures about showing your aggravation.

“Of course there is. This man just can’t help himself from being subjected to your company.” Drake interjects as he walks next to the both of you earning a glare from Xaden and an eye roll from you.

“Well let me not subject you to anything, I was just on my way out.” 

“Wait.” Xaden stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“What? Sgaeyl didn’t give you your report from Dhìoch?” His eyes flaring the only indication that he knows what you mean.

“Exactly. Don’t think I don’t know why my dragon suddenly knew where I was.” You say pointedly. “I’m going on patrol, Drake, I’ll be back later.”

“I’ll come with you.” Xaden says walking to your side.

You whir on him and a sneer leaves your lips. “You, sir, are not enrolled in service to the Poromish, so I don’t think you will.”

“No, I’m not, but I wasn’t asking your permission either.” Xaden steps into your space and you immediately let go a growl and stomp away in the direction of your dragon.

As you make it to the flight field of the palace you can’t stop yourself as you turn. 

“What are you trying to accomplish?” You challenge.

Xaden huffs his own frustrated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m trying to prove to you that you are my fucking world. But for some reason, you won’t give me the time of day.”

A humorless laugh leaves your lips. “I won’t give you the time of day. That’s rich coming from you.”

Xaden finally realizes exactly what he said and immediately turns sheepish. You just roll your eyes at the brooding idiot in front of you.

“Let’s go if you’re coming.” The exasperation in your voice is high as you acquiesce to Xaden. His eyes immediately light up and he pulls you to him placing a lingering kiss to your hair. A breathless ‘thank you’ leave his lips before he turns and seamlessly mounts Sgaeyl. 

You shake your head at the last few minutes and immediately mount Dhìoch for your patrol.

This process now seems to repeat every time Xaden makes a weapons drop to Cordyn. Though you get a reprieve for a week at a time when he is clearly stationed at an outpost. 

Walking into a strategy meeting, your brows furrow as you look at the serious looks on the faces of Syrena and Drake. Looking between the two, you know whatever they are discussing isn’t going to be good news.

“Some intel we have seems to point to them heading to Pavis for some reason.” Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of the town you spent weeks in after Resson.

“We are spread thin though, we can only spare one or two fliers to station there.” Drake says not taking his eyes off the map.

“Send me.” There’s no hesitation in your voice as all three heads turn your way. “I’ll be reinforcements. Besides, the only thing going on here seems to be wyvern patrols.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? We won’t have much back up for you.” Drake questions as he studies you.

“I’m sure. I owe it to the people of the town that took me in without question.” The finality of your voice must convey your seriousness.

“Alright. Though you may need to go alone at first before we can split a squad.” Syrena says as if that would change your mind.

“That’s not a problem. I’ll go start packing.” Immediately rising, you walk briskly towards the bedroom that you’ve called home the last two months.

“Are you trying to avoid a certain shadow wielder’s drop tomorrow?” Drake says as he leans in the door frame. A huff leaves you as you shake your head at his question. 

“No, actually. This has nothing to do with him. I owe Red and Ceridwen more than they’ll ever realize.” You stop packing to look back at Drake. The thought of seeing the people who became surrogate parents spurring your rush. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure they are safe.”

Drake gives you a knowing smile while pushing off the door. “I know you’ll take care of them the best way you can.”

As he turns, he throws over his shoulder, “though I don’t know how we’ll survive when your incendiary loverboy finds out you aren’t here.”

The comment causes you to burst out in a fit of laughter before replying. “Oh, I have faith that you can figure it out.”

Drake waves you off as he continues down the hallway and you go back to packing.

A few hours later you find yourself taking a deep breath and enjoying the freedom of flying, while trying to stop from thinking about what you may be walking into. As Dhìoch begins her descent, you cannot help the beaming smile that lights your face seeing the tavern in the distance.

‘Do you think you’d be willing to meet the people who took me in?’ Hesitently asking Dhìoch down the bond.

‘I’d be willing to show my appreciation to the people who looked after you.’ Dhìoch hums in response and your smile grows a little wider.

Dhìoch comes to a stop not far from the front of the inn and you dismount quickly hoping to alert the owners inside without drawing too much ire from the rest of the residents. As you step into the tavern, the smell of roasting meats and stale alcohol hit your nostrils and your nose scrunches in memory.

Noting the lack of either of the people you are looking for, you knock on the bar and call out in a harsh voice. “Can’t anyone get some service around here.”

The heavy thump of a cup hitting a table makes you smirk as you watch Red come from the back, a look of irritation on his face. Though the look doesn’t last long as the minute he recognizes you he smiles widely almost as if welcoming hope his daughter. The warmth that settles in your chest has you smiling right back to him. 

“Ceridwen.” He calls to the kitchen. “Come and see what the gryphon dragged in.”

“What are you talking ab-“Ceridwen’s words are cut off as she sees you standing at the bar. “Oh, my dear, I’m so happy to see you.”

It takes less than ten seconds to be swept up into Ceridwen’s hug as you hear Red’s warm laugh behind you. You haven’t smiled so much in the last few months, let alone the last year. 

Your heart continues to warm hours later as you sit at a table in the tavern deep in conversation with the two.

“If I would’ve known that introducing you to Drake would put you in so much danger, I would’ve contacted someone else.” Red grumbles next to you. 

“You can’t blame it all on Drake, I did ask and require him to take me.” Your reassurance does nothing to quell Red’s thoughts on this issue if his huff is anything to go by.

“So how long will you be here?” Ceridwen asks though you can see the worry in her eyes.

“Hopefully not long, and if we are lucky, the intel that was given is false.” You say as you smile, but this time it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Either way,” Red says, clapping you on his back as he begins to walk towards his chambers. “We’ll sleep better at night knowing that you and your dragon will be here watching out for us.”

You squeeze Ceridwen’s hand and send them both a small smile as you begin to turn and walk to your own bed. As you sink into the mattress you can’t help but take a deep breath, relishing in the warm feeling of familiarity and comfort.

True to their words, a few days later a pair of fliers come into the tavern looking for you, relaying your orders from Drake. Though you look up in shock when the man himself walks into the tavern not long after they had finished.

“Why are you here?” You ask in obvious confusion. “Jesper and Tusarr just told me everything I needed to know as far as orders.”

“Wonderful.” He clasps his hands, and you can see the agitation rolling off him only causing your confusion to continue. “I’m glad that has been cleared up, but that isn’t why I’m here. Unfortunately, I’m here on a personal matter regarding you.”

You quirk an eyebrow in invitation for him to continue.

“I don’t know what magic you’ve used, but it seems we’ve almost had another international incident with your rabble-rousing paramour.” You honestly feel like you’re in some sort of book, shaking your head slightly, Drake must be joking.

“The shadow wielder just about tore down the entire palace when he learned you weren’t in Cordyn. Though with his temper there was not time to explain to him that we knew where you were.”

Now a humorous smile is stretching across your face, and you can’t help when the laugh you’ve been trying to hold in bubbles out.

“I knew that you could embellish things, but this seems extreme, even for you Drake.” You say between laughter as your hand comes up to grasp Drake on the shoulder. Though your laugh begins to die down when you see the look on Drake’s face.

“O-Oh.” You stutter in amazement. “You really are serious.”

The indignant scoff he gives you is only broken off by the slamming of a door against the tavern wall. You both turn your head quickly as the air in the tavern turns icy with anger. 

“Why are you always with him?” The question comes out in a growl as the disgruntled man stalks towards you as if he’s the predator and you’re his prey.

Your eyes flash in challenge, after everything over the last year, you refuse to back down. 

Turning away from Xaden, you direct your next statement to Drake. “Thanks Drake. I’ll take it from here and I’ll speak with you again before you leave regarding the next few weeks.”

Drake gives you a curt nod and a small uptick of his mouth, turning away from Xaden and back out the door of the tavern. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turn your head and look up to meet the stare of the most insufferable man in your life, at the moment at least. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You snap at Xaden while straightening your spine. You relish in the surprise that flashes in his eyes when you step up into his space. 

“My problem. You just fucking left Cordyn and didn’t say a fucking word.” Xaden gets out between grit teeth.

“Here’s the problem Xaden.” Your tone short. “You think you have a say in where I go. You aren’t my wingleader anymore. I do not report to the cadre at Basgiath or in Aretia or whatever the gods names you are part of, so I don’t see where I’m stationed or move to is any of your business.”

You watch as his jaw ticks and you can feel the tension in his muscles from where he stands close to you. 

“I am more than aware of all of that. I am aware that I have no right to know where you are.” The anger in his voice is present, but his eyes tell a different story. In his onyx depths you can see the fear and panic swirl in and out of their golden flecks. “But for my own fucking sanity, I need to know.”

The last part comes out as little more than a whisper. An admission that looks like it may have cost the man in front of you his entire being. Xaden takes a shaky breath before closing his eyes.

“I have no right to demand anything from you, and I know that. But I about went out of my fucking mind when I searched for you, and you were nowhere in Cordyn.” He takes a small breath before the emotion clogging his throat stops him.

An arm shoots out and forcefully pulls you forward, his arms wrapping around you in a vice grip. “I ca- I can’t lose you like that again. You can’t just disappear.” The last part is a whisper in your ear as his face comes to burrow in your hair.

You stand there for a few moments unsure exactly what to do. After the night in Cordyn, you thought the way Xaden acted was just from the shock of finally seeing you again, but with this, you realize there is something more to it.

Finally giving in for just a moment, you bring your arms around Xaden’s waist and return the hug. You hear his breath hitch from where his face is still buried in your hair and his arms hug you tighter. 

“Truthfully, I wasn’t trying to hide from or scare you.” You tell him, your tone gentle. “There’s been intel given and I chose to come back here. This place is special to me.”

Xaden picks up his head looking at you with furrowed brows as you finish and give a labored sigh. 

“After I left Resson, I traveled on foot for a few days and found myself here. I worked in this tavern for a few months before the owner, Red, put me in contact with Drake to assist with the war effort.” Xaden watches you explain, and you see the hurt on his face at your tale of your own exploits after Resson. 

“Someone could’ve killed you if they knew you were a rider.” Xaden’s panic is palpable, and you huff a laugh.

“At the time, I didn’t really care.” Xaden’s eyes flash before he’s dragging you into another hug, crushing you even harder than before.

“Though I have to ask one question.” You say as you pull away from Xaden’s hold. “If I didn’t disappear, would you be acting this way? Would you be fighting for me like you are now?”

The look on Xaden’s face makes you shake your head and move a few steps away putting much needed space between the two of you.

“Exactly.” Resigned, you continue, maybe because you want to add salt to the wound making him suffer like you did. “While I was here, I was welcomed. Hell, I’d go out on a limb and say I’m loved. And you dare to be jealous of Drake, when he’s done nothing but look after me for the last few months.”

“Gods Xaden. Is there any us to go back to?” The bitterness in your voice cutting like the blade of your sheathed dagger.

“Don’t say that.” Xaden utters, a quiet plea.

“Why? It’s the truth. You’re trying to atone for something that I don’t even know if we can get past. How can I trust that when push comes to shove, I’ll be your priority?”

“Fuck! I know!” He says, his anger getting the best of him. “Do you not understand how angry I am at myself for the way I treated you. For the way I let you be left behind.”

Xaden begins pacing franticly in a way you’ve never seen before. “I’ve woken up every fucking day – when I did even fall asleep - replaying all the fucking ways I’ve failed you. The one person I never wanted to neglect; is the one person I wholeheartedly failed the most.”

“And no, I can’t change all my shitty actions. I can’t do anything but try to gain your trust back for the rest of my fucking life. I would gladly take a scar for every way that I’ve hurt you than lose you forever. You are the only sunshine I’ve found in a life that’s been filled with nothing but rainstorms and darkness. I’ll do whatever I can to prove to you that I’m worthy of you. That you are my only priority.” As he was speaking Xaden grabbed your hands in his and continued to drag his thumbs over your wrists, grounding you to the feeling of him. 

Tipping back your head and closing your eyes to take a moment for yourself, you try to clear your mind from all the hurt that you’ve felt. To wade through the overwhelming swath of emotions. 

But your head jerks up and eyes go wide as you hear the sirens blare. Pulling your hands from Xaden, you yell for Jesper and Tusarr telling them to find Drake.

As you sheath the few weapons you had left behind the counter, you look back to Xaden. “We can discuss this more later, but you need to leave. That’s the attack siren and if Dhìoch is correct we only have about twenty minutes.”

He looks at you with steel in his eyes. “I’m not fucking leaving.”

“Yes, you are.” You say back with finality. “You aren’t even supposed to be here and this isn’t your fight. You need to get back to your own riot.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you here to fight alone.” Xaden hisses through grit teeth as you both walk out of the tavern.

You turn and pull him down by the lapels on his jacket. “Yes. You. Are.” Steel in your gaze and words. “This is not your fight. This is Poromiel, not Navarre, not Aretia, not Tyrrendor. Go home and defend it.”

You let go and get two steps before his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you backwards. 

“I’m going to get the rest of my riot from Draithus and will be right back.” He explains, his face directly in yours. “Do not be reckless.”

Before you can give him a sarcastic sass back, you are plastered to his chest, his hands in your hair at the nape of your neck, and he’s kissing you with a ferocity you’ve never felt from him. You gasp as the kiss ends as quickly as it began and he’s tearing himself away and mounting Sgaeyl.

You blink a few times and then shake your head, trying to clear it before running for Dhìoch. 

‘You need to clear your head for battle.’ Dhìoch sasses, clear amusement in her tone.

‘And you need to learn to tell me when Sgaeyl is here and bringing around her infuriating rider.’ You snark back with an irritated sneer to the back of your dragon’s head.

‘He may be infuriating, but he still has your heart racing.’ You roll your eyes at your dragon’s need to maneuver in to your personal life. 

Your banter with your dragon is cut short when you see an entire hoard of wyvern in the distance heading straight towards Pavis. 

‘Are you ready for this Dhìoch?’ You ask, your mind calculating on the best ways to strike.

‘We will not fail. Now brace yourself Loyal One.’ Dhìoch says before shooting straight towards the hoard.

Your heart rate kicks up as the prospect of your first battle back with your dragon begins. 

‘Can you relay the information to the gryphons to help evacuate the citizens and we’ll handle the hoard?’ You direct.

‘Done, they are working to put them in the safe houses.’ Dhìoch confirms as she cuts through the air with a precision you admire. 

As you get closer, your eyes widen at the amount of venin atop the wyvern. You try to count, but you lose it at five. Gears clicking in your mind, you take a mental tally of the alloyed daggers you have on you and know you must keep them close. Having only three will limit your ability to throw. 

‘Are you ready Dhìoch? I’m going to need you to fly as close to the wyvern as possible.’ You ask as you go over the plan in your head.

‘I don’t believe the Brooding One would agree with your plan, but yes we will take these abominations down.’ You ignore Dhìoch’s tease and reach for her power.

As you feel the sensation of her power fill your veins you look down to see your fingers disappear from view. Once you can feel yourself fully cloaked, you carefully stand and walk as close to the juncture of Dhìoch’s leg and wing. As Dhìoch begins to hover, you duck to avoid scorching blue fire as it sizzles through the air above you and immediately slide down off her back.

Landing on the back of one of the smaller wyverns, you crouch and try to gain your balance as best as possible. The small form in front of you wears purple leathers and you assume this must be one of their students. Without giving the venin time to turn around, you fling one of your three daggers and hit it in the back of the neck. You watch as the blood flows and the venin goes limp. Before you can jump, you feel the wyvern you are on begin to rapidly descend. 

Immediately rising to your feet, you don’t think and just jump though you know you are too close to the wyverns falling body.

‘Dhìoch!’ Your mental voice is panicked as you are unsure where your dragon is currently. The panic doesn’t last long as you suddenly feel talons wrap around you. Drawing a ragged, grateful breath when you see the coppery sheen above you.

‘You should trust me more than that.’ Dhìoch says in an offended tone as she tosses you up and catches you on her back.

Scoffing, you can’t help but roll your eyes. ‘Yes, well I wasn’t expecting that wyvern to go into freefall.’

You get back into your seat and Dhìoch begins to climb above the battle again. Looking down, you can see a venin on the way into the heart of town. Panic begins to rise when you realize that Ceridwen and Red are in the perfect collision course for the venin.

‘You must take me down Dhìoch. I won’t let anything happen to them.’ You can feel your terror begin to take over at the thought of something happening to the couple that took you in.

‘Get them out and then come right back. I will not let you get drained on the ground.’ Dhìoch growls, her disapproval evident. 

Dhìoch begins her descent, and you know this will be a running landing. Throwing up a quick prayer to Zinhal, you rise from her back and head back to her shoulder. As she hits to the perfect height, you let yourself fall and with more ease than you expected, you are immediately running towards the tavern. 

“Red! Ceridwen! Get out now!” You yell at the top of your lungs racing for the front of the tavern. 

Ceridwen darts out of the front door with a small satchel in tow. Behind her your eyes widen as Red dons his brown leathers and is sheathing a sword to his back.

“You should be taking shelter with Ceridwen!” You yell at him as soon as he’s in earshot.

He gives you a look that shows he is anything but impressed. “No, I should be fighting for you and Ceridwen both and that is what I intend to do.”

Ceridwen comes next to you and puts a hand on your forearm. “You’re fighting a losing battle my dear, so instead of wasting any time, let’s go.”

You shake your head and begin pulling Ceridwen along. ‘Dhìoch can you tell Tusarr to help get Ceridwen to safety.’ A low growl in your head is the only response before you hear the screech of a gryphon landing. 

“Go with Tusarr, she’ll take you to the others. I’ll take care of Red the best I can.” You say to Ceridwen before she tugs you close in a tight hug.

“Take care of yourself, my dear, and don’t worry about Red, he can take care of himself.” She says before letting you go and repeating the same process with Red.

‘Alright Dhìoch, let’s take down some more of these dark wielders.’ You say as you run towards an opening for Dhìoch to land.

As you see her scales come into view, you turn, and your eyes fly wide. In the few minutes since leaving Red behind a venin has materialized and is staring him down. Letting Dhìoch’s power flow, you mask yourself and begin sprinting toward Red’s side. 

Getting closer you see him locked in battle and as much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, his strength seems to be waning. 

Your heart stops and eyes go wide as you watch the venin slash down Red’s arm with a dagger that was just dripping with a green liquid.

“NO!” The scream rips from your lips as Red slashes his sword towards the venin slashing at its throat. As you slowly get closer you can see Red’s movements becoming sluggish.

Please Malek, no! Take me instead!

‘Dhìoch you need to get Red to the healers and tell Drake to get him healed.’ You demand of your dragon. 

Not taking your eyes from the venin still managing to stand, you stalk forward, cloaked and invisible. Your face contorted in rage, you continue running and pull the alloyed dagger from your ribs. Without stopping, you barrel into the venin with your dagger leading straight into his chest. The venin hisses at the impact and the dive of your blade. Blood rushing in your ears, you fall with the venin, and it isn’t until you roll, now looking up at the sky that a familiar burning pain breaks through at your wrist.

You don’t need to look down to know that some of the poison is now in your system, but you won’t let them win. You won’t let the venin take Pavis without a fight. Slowly rising to your feet and looking at your surroundings., the town that you have loved is now alight in flames surrounded with a thick smoke, suffocating the beautiful town center. 

‘I am on my way to you, Loyal One.’ Dhìoch confirms as you begin to jog towards an area for her to land.

As soon as you see Dhìoch’s talons hit the ground, you start running for her leg. Your breathing is coming in rapid pants as you try to ignore the burn in your arm. 

‘You need to be seen by a healer as well.’ Dhìoch growls as you tear a strip from your shirt and wrap your wrist.

‘No. I will save these people first, with or without your help.’ You demand without feeling any remorse for your biting tone.

You can feel Dhìoch’s displeasure at your response down the bond, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she flies back into the din, the stifling smell of smoke rising from the ground and clouding your vision. As though Zinhal hears your pleas, there is a break in the smoke on the horizon and you spot a venin with its robes billowing in the wind.

‘That one’s next.’ You refuse to hear any argument from Dhìoch as you set your sights on the enemy in front of you. Dhìoch slices through the air and as you grow closer to the venin, you can see the brilliant red that spiders from the creature’s eyes down the sides of its face.

Dhìoch clearly has read your intentions and begins her ascent to hover over the massive wyvern that has your next target. As she levels out, you begin to lower to her shoulder but can’t bite back a sharp intake of breath when your wrist moves, the poison making its presence known. You try to avoid the sting and crouch before launching yourself from Dhìoch’s back.

For a few seconds you are airborne and hoping that you estimated the correct spot. You don’t have long to worry as you feel your feet hit the leathery surface of the wyvern. You let your entire body drop as you try to gain your balance on the creature. 

Looking up, your eyes fly wide realizing that the venin can see you and is looking directly into your eyes.

“Ah, the pained one again makes an appearance. Tell me, do you really think you can win this challenge?” The oily voice that drags from the venin in front of you draws shivers down your spine.

You don’t respond as you know there is no reason. The venin slowly stalks towards you, wind whipping at their robes with two blades drawn. Assessing the way the venin moves; you know that you’ll have to be quick.

‘Make sure you’re below me Dhìoch, just in case.’ You hear the hum of agreement in your mind as you draw your blade.

‘Dispatch the dark wielder quickly. You need to get back to the flyer captain.’ You hear the slight concern in Dhìoch’s voice.

You continue using Dhìoch’s power to remain cloaked, although you’re unsure of how much use it Is against the venin. Creeping forward you hold an alloy hilted dagger in your right hand. Letting the thought linger too long, you must go on the defensive when the venin strikes first, and the bite of a dagger slashes close to your face. 

Ducking down, you feel your foot slip slightly on the leathery back of the wyvern. Without thinking through your moves, you slam a dagger into the back of the wyvern to avoid falling. The minute it embeds, the wyvern bucks and you can do nothing but hold on as best you can, your wrist burning with fury. Regrettably, the venin does not seem to be affected by the wyverns thrashing. You watch as they continue to get closer and try to throw your right leg up and regain your balance. 

Pulling yourself up, you don’t see as the venin brings one of its blades down and though you move quickly, it isn’t quick enough to evade the blade completely. An agonizing scream tears from you as the blade pierces your side.

‘Loyal One, finish it!’ Dhìoch demand is covered in icy dread as you try to push past the pain. 

Taking as deep of a breath as you can, you gather your remaining strength and duck as the venin goes to slash at your other side. A loud roar sounds that causes the venin to turn its head and you take the opportunity to bury your remaining alloyed dagger into its throat. 

The venin coughs and sputters grabbing at its throat, but you watch as the skin around it begins greying and shriveling.

“You bitch!” The venin gasps and lunges towards you. Losing your balance, you trip backwards and find yourself falling from the leathered surface of the wyvern. A particularly fiery jolt of pain slashes through you as you begin falling and you watch as your arms raise, and you can see you are no longer invisible.

“Y/N!” A voice calls in the distance and you turn to see a blur of blue. As your mind is drug down with poison, you barely have the cognizance to call out for Dhìoch. 

You hear air furiously whipping around you and all the breath tumbles from your lungs when you hit a rough surface hard. The impact has your vision going completely black as your body jerks from the impact. 

With all the poison coursing through your veins, it proves impossible to open your eyes, but you can feel that your body is still rolling. The only thought left is that those you care about are safe before you succumb to the darkness.

You feel your consciousness pull forward, even though your body feels like a thousand weights are tied to it, even your eyelids feel tethered. The roughness that you remember last seems to be replaced with something soft and the fire in your veins only a light hum. The exhaustion of your mind and body don’t keep your conscious state around long as you feel yourself drift again. 

Unsure of how long you’ve been in a state of poisoned dissidence you finally feel as if you can move your small extremities. You take the time to try and wiggle your fingers and toes, but your eyelids still feel like they have anchors attached. You try straining to hear any sounds around you, but everything still feels slightly muffled.

“How long is this going to take?” An impatient male voice penetrates your ears.

“That’s not something I can predict. I can’t mend the poison from her system.” Another male voice replies in exhaustion.

“It’s been over a week. It didn’t take this long when Violet was poisoned.” Confusion swirls in your brain as you try to place the name that seems so familiar. 

“I understand, but poison doesn’t affect every person the same. Besides, from the light discoloration from her veins on her left arm, it seems like this has happened before.” The exhausted male voice replies.

You can hear as the pacing footsteps suddenly halt. “What?!?” The other voice says a tone that seems slightly panicked but also filled with fury.

“Didn’t you notice the black veins running down her arm while we were in Cordyn. They stood in stark relief to her skin and that dress.” You’d give anything to move your body, wanting to wrap your arms around yourself in soothing gesture at the conversation you’re hearing.

“I was a little busy trying to keep myself in one place and not forcefully pick her up and leave with Sgaeyl, so no, I suppose I didn’t notice.” Realization hits as now you realize its Xaden’s voice you’re hearing. “Besides, why would that matter, that was over a month ago now.”

“Yes, but her body obviously wasn’t recovered from that poisoning, so now it’s taking longer.” The other male in the room has a voice that sounds familiar now, but you still can’t place it.

“And I’m going out of my fucking mind. I’m being ordered to Draithus again tomorrow and I can’t leave not knowing if she’s going to be okay.” Xaden’s voice becomes tight with worry and frustration.

“Unfortunately, Lieutenant, you don’t have much of a choice. You’re going to be leaving tomorrow with Sgaeyl and you’ll have to deal with it.” The voice has grown hard, both with weariness and aggravation. 

“Don’t fucking try me, Brennan. You won’t fucking win.” Xaden challenges.

“Oh, I don’t have to try you. Lieutenant Colonel, remember?” With that last statement, you hear as footsteps sound and a door clicking shut behind them. 

As you begin to feel the eternal pull of sleep weighing on your body again, you notice the bed you’re in dip down slightly. 

“Blaze, I need you to fight this. I need you with me. You can’t leave me again, not like this, not before I can show you how much I love you.” There’s no mistaking the pain in Xaden’s voice and the way it breaks in and out. It’s clear that he’s barely holding himself together, but the pull of darkness is too sweet to deny.

 

Taking a deep breath, you finally feel the ability to flutter your eyes open. Though as you do and stare up at the ceiling, everything still feels foggy. You’re unsure of how long you just lay there with your eyes open, but eventually you gather enough strength to sit up. 

Looking around, your brow furrows trying to place the room you are in. It’s well appointed, but there’s no white marble and blinding gold, this chamber is pure stone with tapestries lining the wall generating some warmth to the space. You look up at an armoire that is at the side of the room and turn to see a door that you assume must be a bathing chamber. 

There is a large green chair that has been posted next to the bed as if someone was sitting there waiting for you. You close your eyes as you try to clear the fog that still clings to your brain and memories. The action feels like wading through waist deep water, and you can’t help the confusion that seems to settle.

Brows furrowing you try to remember the last place you were, because you know it wasn’t wherever this is. Looking down, you see that you’re in a pair of loose-fitting black pants and oversized shirt. Running a hand through your hair, your nose scrunches at the greasy feeling of your hair. Whatever has happened in the last few days, the only thing you want right now is a nice long shower.

Slowly picking your overtired body from the bed, you shift to a standing position. Trying your best not to wobble, you walk into the bathing chamber and immediately spot the shower and take a deep breath. Hobbling straight over, you turn the taps and let the warm water run through your fingers relishing in the feeling. You let yourself relax into the shower and hope to Amari that the water will wash the fog of your mind. 

Grabbing a towel and drying yourself, you walk towards the mirror and place your hands on the sink sucking in a breath and letting the granite hold your weight. The peace that settled into you during your shower is short lived as you look up into the mirror. 

Gasping, you fumble backwards, and your hand flies up to your chest. You watch the mirror as your fingers trace the scar on the left side of your body and the lingering blackness. Eyes flying wide, the memories of the battle rush back in a torrent causing you to move. 

You go back into the room, the peace of the shower completely gone, and search for clothes. You see riding leathers that look to be about the right size and immediately begin tugging them on your body. Lacing your boots with as much efficiency as you can master, you are shooting up, not concerned about your hair or the fact that you don’t even know where you are. 

Only one thought is pulsing through your mind. ‘Is Red alright? And where is Ceridwen?’ The thought leaves unbidden, and you pull up to a halt at the bottom of the stairs when there’s a response.

‘They are both safe and resting in a small cottage in town.’ Dhìoch’s voice slithers quietly into your mind.

‘Can you take me to them?’ You ask as everything hits in succession.

You know you must look like a crazed fiend, but your emotions are hitting you from every side and you need to see they are safe for yourself. There’s a minute where you think Dhìoch will deny you, but then you just ignore her and begin back down the stairs and sprint out large doors. 

Unsure where you are and where you are going, you turn and see a small town in the valley below. Turning back your eyes widen at the stone fortress that you just exited from. 

I’ll worry about that later. Is the only thought you have as you begin walking towards the town below. You have no idea where you are going, just that you need to lay eyes on the two people that saved you from yourself.

As you begin to enter the thick of the town, you wrap your arms around yourself as you brace from the cold wind that has begun whipping around you. Arriving at the heart of the town, you enter into one of the taverns. 

“Excuse me.” You say as you walk up to the barkeep. “Do you happen to know if there was a couple that was brought to this village from Pavis a few days ago? Their names are –.“

“Y/N!” You cut yourself off as you hear the familiar voice yell your name.

“Ceridwen!” You yell back and instantly run towards her and embrace her in a bruising hug. 

“Thank the gods! We’ve been so worried about you.” She gets out in a rush parsing over you as if looking for injuries.

“I’m fine. How are you? Is Red alright?” The rush of your words and panic in your eyes makes Ceridwen soften her eyes at you.

“Thanks to you.” She says as she grabs you by the arm. “Come. I know he will be ecstatic to see you finally awake.”

She leads you back out into the town and the tension in your chest begins to ease slightly at her warmth. A small smile spreads on your lips as you get closer to a small cottage closer to the outskirts of the town. Hope fluttering in your chest as Ceridwen goes to open the wooden door and you can’t help but notice the green roof that seems to line every house you’ve passed.

“Ceri did you happen to get any eggs while you were out.” A male voice calls that immediately has you taking a breath of relief. 

Walking further into the room, a beaming smile spreads across your face that you can’t control. 

“Thank the gods!” Red says in a breathless whisper before tugging you into a fierce hug.

You let your body slacken as the relief of seeing them both crashes over you, Ceridwen coming up behind you and hugging you as well. You let yourself melt into the warmth of their hugs and take the first deep breath you’ve had since you’ve woken up in this strange place.

An hour later you find yourself drifting, your eyes involuntarily closing as the exertion of your day begins to hit you full force.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get you in bed.” You hear Ceridwen whisper softly.

“I don’t want to intrude.” You say though it comes out in a yawn.

“My dear, you saved our lives, the least we can do is let you rest.” You don’t argue with her logic and slowly follow her to one of the bedrooms. As soon as you step next to the bed, you fall into the mattress and your eyes slide closed.

The next day, you feel at least some of your energy has returned to its normal state and take a short walk into the hills surrounding the town. As you sit with your back on one of the trees, you breathe in the clean air and let the calm of the forest wash over you.

‘Why are you always such trouble?’ Dhìoch slides into your mind a hint of amusement in her tone.

‘Excuse me. How exactly am I trouble? And hello to you too.’ You don’t try to hide your indignation. 

‘Always the one to jump in and save others. Then taking two weeks to wake up.’ You scoff at your dragon, especially when she is intruding on the little solitude you seemed to have found. It isn’t as if you asked to be poisoned again.

‘You could’ve found another rider. I gave you the opportunity to leave me behind.’ Your dragon’s snarl curls around your mind and you know she would be knocking you to the ground if she was in front of you.

‘That isn’t what I was implying. You aren’t the trouble for me. Sgaeyl is.’ Dhìoch says, her tone bored. Though you can’t help but send your confusion through your bond. In the back of your mind a faint whisper of someone talking while you were poisoned flits in your mind, but you can’t quite place it. 

‘Dhìoch, where exactly are we anyway.’ You look around and there is something so familiar about the land, but the answer seems to evade you.

‘I believe the answer to all of that will be coming very shortly.’ You roll your eyes at your dragon’s insistent use of non-answers to your questions. 

Beginning to feel your body tire again, you slowly rise to your feet to begin the trek back to Red and Ceridwen’s cottage. You didn’t ask them where you were, but you were so concerned with their safety, you didn’t care. Knowing they were both safe was the only thought that crossed your mind. 

As you get closer to the cottage, your body begins to feel to heavy and when you go to take your next step, your knee gives out. Expecting to crash to the ground, your eyes snap closed and you brace for the impact. When impact doesn’t come, you open your eyes back up and they flare as they lock with onyx ones.

With two long strides you find yourself gathered tightly in Xaden’s arms and his head buried in your hair. 

“You’re going to send me to Malek one of these days.” He whispers in your hair, though there’s no bite to his tone. You huff a humorless laugh at the statement while still being crushed to the chiseled lines of his chest.

“For some reason I think I have an appointment with the god of death before you do.” You sass back at the insufferable man that has your entire being plastered to him. As if in offense, his arms tighten around you further.

“Don’t even fucking joke like that.” His words come out hard a biting tone to every syllable.

He suddenly pulls you back and stares intensely back into your eyes. He continues searching yours before the exhaustion of the day starts to seep into you again. You let out a large yawn and begin to pull away from him.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Before you can get further than two steps ahead, Xaden has grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around.

“Then come with me.” His tone now soft as he looks pleadingly into your eyes. 

“Come with you where? I don’t even know where we are. All I know is there are two people that are grateful for my existence in this cottage that offered me a warm bed.” You continue as you gesture towards the cottage. 

“You’re in Aretia. I took you here after Pavis was evacuated.” He says as if that is an entire explanation.  

“While I appreciate everything you’ve done for Red and Ceridwen, I’ll only be staying until I feel back to myself fully.” You say turning again to walk away.

“You are staying here.” Xaden states with finality and you whir around fully intending to give him a piece of your mind at his overbearing insistence. Your plans however are dashed when the world begins to tilt, and your eyes roll skyward.

“Y/N, Love.” Is all you hear before you feel weightless and find yourself wrapped up in Xaden’s arms and he begins to jog. Unsure of what is happening, you try to let yourself relax as breathing becomes more of a chore. 

Seeming to fade back in and out, you suddenly feel the sharp sting of wind at your face, though Xaden tries to fold you closer towards his chest. “You’ll be alright love; you just need to hold on for me.” Xaden whispers, his mouth grazing your ear with every word. His words may be steady, but there is no mistaking the dread laced in their tone.

As your breathing begins to grow shallow, you’re jolted in Xaden’s arms. Trying to open your eyes, you are met with the looming shadow of the fortress that you had left from a day ago. Though that isn’t what shocks your system.

Your eyes catch Xaden’s for only a heartbeat, but the absolute terror swirling in them puts a crack in the wall that you’ve had up for months. 

“Where’s Brennan?” Xaden barks, between the force of the command and the panic you can only imagine the way people part for the man.

“Wh-what the hell Riorson?” Another male voice questions from further away.

“You need to help her. She fainted and she’s barely breathing.” Xaden explains as you can feel him climbing and hear as a door is kicked open. 

“Stop standing there and fucking help her!” The roar leaving Xaden’s lips has your pulse jumping at the threatening tone.

“You need to calm down. Most likely it’s just the aftereffects of the poison trying to leave her system.” The calm male voice says as you feel Xaden place you down on a soft surface.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down.” Xaden growls. “She’s been out for two fucking weeks and then disappears and no one fucking tells me! You want me to calm down, then fix her!”

No words are exchanged before you hear footsteps coming closer to the bed and then a warm sensation seems to wash over your skin. As the warmth begins to fade, you finally take a deep breath and exhale out of your mouth, eyes fluttering open to the familiar stone ceiling you had woken to before.

“Thank the gods.” A breathless whisper comes before Xaden is kneeling next to the bed you are in, closer to your head. Your head turns and you’re met with the eyes that you can never seem to get out of your mind. He brings a hand to your head and cradles your cheek, rubbing his thumbs back and forth in a soothing motion. 

“What happened?” Your brows furrow as you blink your eyes trying to clear the fog in your head.

Another figure catches your attention, and you look down to see a man you’ve never seen before sitting at the base of the bed. 

“I believe it was the last remnants of poison pushing through your system.” The man with auburn curls tells you. 

Your eyes don’t stay on him long as you feel your body begin to drag you down again. Looking back up to Xaden, you slowly blink, the heaviness of sleep beckoning you. “I’m tired.”

“I know, my Love.” Xaden murmurs as his hand continues to stroke your cheek. “Sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You blame it on the exhaustion pulling at you when his words cause your entire body to warm and a spark in your chest begin to ignite, though the flicker grows hotter when he leans in and gives your forehead a lingering kiss. Not letting yourself dwell on your feelings, you close your eyes and let yourself drift. 

Unsure of how long it’s been since you’ve drifted, your eyes blink open to darkness around you. Trying to roll to your right and out of the bed, you are immediately stopped by hand that is firmly gripping yours. Turning your head, you see a large figure slouched in sleep in a large armchair brought as close as possible to the bed. 

You slowly untangle your fingers from Xaden’s and continue your roll out of the bed. Heading towards what you think are the windows, you silently let yourself lean into the wall. Pulling back one of the curtains, you let yourself relish in the bright light of the moon that highlights the town below. You take in all the little things you can see by the light of the moon, including the way the moonlight glistens over the green rooftops that dot the town.

Caught up in your perusal of the town, you jolt when you hear the quick snap of the chair on the floor and turn as the occupant jolts up and begins striding towards the door.  

“Xaden.” You murmur in bid not to scare him, and his head immediately turns towards your voice. Without responding to you, he meets you in two strides and turns you to face him. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The concern in his eyes and tone is evident, even in the soft way he holds you. 

“I’m…better. Not sure if I’ll ever be alright.” You reveal quietly which causes Xaden’s arms to tighten slightly around you. 

Resignation tearing at you, there’s no way to stop the words from forming. “What do you want Xaden? After living through the last few months, I need to know. What do you want?”

You let the seriousness of your question leech into your stare, not willing to pretend any longer.

“I want everything you’ll give me.” Xaden says bringing both hands to cup your face. 

“I can’t fucking let you go. I refuse.” He continues fervently his eyes blazing with conviction. “What I said back in Cordyn, I meant every godsdamned word. I just need you to believe me.”

Xaden continues to stare back at you his brows furrowing and eyes turning sad. “I need you to give me another chance. Just one. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

Your eyes slide closed as your head battles with your heart. Your head tells you that you’ll never be the priority for this man, but your heart screams for you to give him another chance. It isn’t either of those things that win out though, it’s the words that Red and Ceridwen left you with when you talked last night.

“No relationship is perfect, especially when you’re young. Life is always going to throw different problems in front of love, that's what makes finding it so special. But, if you find the one person that will fight tooth and nail to love you, you hold it close, because no relationship will succeed without the will to fight for it – you can’t just let it go.” Ceridwen finished while she gave Red’s hand a squeeze.

Opening your eyes, you can see the expectant look on Xaden’s face and the stiffness of his arms, even though his touch is still gentle on your cheeks.

“Are you going to fight for this like you will for the continent?” Your question comes out quiet, almost afraid of the answer.

“I will fight with everything in my being, until my last dying breath. I will always fight for you harder than I would ever fight for the continent.” The fiery conviction is only met with absolute certainty as his arm tightens snuggly around your waist tugging you against him. 

Your own hand comes up and pulls his other from your cheek. As you bring it down, you turn his palm and give it a lingering kiss. His breath hitches as his hand tunnels into your hair drawing you fully against him. 

After some time, Xaden’s hand moves to your neck and angles it to look up into his eyes. The moonlight seems to cast them into pools of gold, a swirling mass of love hidden in every corner.

“May I kiss you?” Xaden breathes out in a whisper as if he’s afraid to speak too loudly.

“Only if you promise it’s only the first in a lifetime’s worth.” The smile that he gives you is brighter than the sun before he tugs your face forward and his lips crash to yours.

Caught off guard at the ferocity behind the gesture, you can’t help your smile and the small laugh that bubbles up. You feel as Xaden’s lips curl into their own smile before the kiss turns languid. 

Xaden continues to kiss you slow, as if he’s trying to re-memorize every single corner of your mouth. You feel yourself melt into his arms as he slowly backs up and sits down on the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he pulls you down onto his lap while tightening his grip as if he can’t stand to have a single bit of space between you. 

You gasp into his mouth as you feel every inch of his body press into yours. He pulls away slightly giving your neck a lingering kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“Gods, I missed you. Your taste, your lips, the way you fit in my arms.” Xaden says as he punctuates each one with a kiss. 

“Missed me enough to always put me first?” The seriousness of your voice and conviction in your eyes showing through.

Grabbing your face with both hands, Xaden’s eyes seem to search every corner of yours. “No one and nothing will ever come before you again. That is the easiest promise that I could ever make.”

His hand slides to your waist and pulls you flush against him and for the first time in months, you let yourself relax into his touch and breathe him in. As he feels your body soften against him, he brings your head to rest in the crook of his neck and leaves a lingering kiss on your temple before burying his face in your hair.

“You are the light to my shadow. The only home I’ll ever find rest in, and I’ll spend the rest of my life more than satisfied if I always have you.” He whispers in your hair, and in the darkness of his room, in the middle of the night, you breathe deeply and your heart settles as you find your own home in him.

Taglist: @honethatty12 @motorsportloverf1 @annthepenguin @dragonsandrinks @acourtofsmutandstarlight @minidemont @bookishcait

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Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach. 

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments. 

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body. 

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare. 

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it. 

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

__

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away. 

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

__

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress. 

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?” 

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle. 

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears. 

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for. 

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

__

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks. 

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered– 

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent. 

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

__

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours. 

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose… 

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you. 

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

[aagneauu]

High value habits to elevate yourself 🥂✨

When the term "high value" is mentioned, we often think of things related exclusively to economic wealth, but being a high-value person is an attitude, an attribute founded on habits and a wealthy mentality. So today I wanted to mention a few habits that I personally perceive as something a person with strong standards apply on their lives. ✨

Sorry if there's any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language :b

1. Long-term mentality ✦

Enjoying yourself is very important, but when we only think about the things that give us temporary pleasure, is often very likely that we forget to take care about our future stability. For example, if you want to travel, the smart thing to do would be to save the money in order to be able to afford it, but how many times we just feel the urge to waste money on unnecessary stuff just to get that brief satisfaction, that bad habit will take us far from our goals. This rule can be applied on almost every aspect, and if you're able to stick to your goals and take decisions according to them, trust me, you'll get very far.

2. Invest ✦

Stop wasting and start investing; your money, your time and your energy. In terms of money, you obviously can spend some of it on pretty stuff, but instead of wasting your whole salary on things you want, a smarter move would be to use part of that money to invest it on something that potentially can give us another income, maybe there's a valuable peace of jewelry or clothing that not only we could use, but to sell and trade in the future, or even if you have enough money saved, you can invest in a property, to not only live in it, but to rent it. Our time and energy works in the same way, we could be wasting our time and energy with people that don't give us nothing we can learn from, and you're worth way more than that. Find people and habits that not only make you feel good and appreciated, but that will leave you something interesting for your personal growth, and remember, better alone than in a bad company.

3. Details matter ✦

How we talk, how we decide to present ourselves to the world, our values, the effort we put on what we make. Every little detail says something about us. For example, something as simple as spraying perfume before we go out makes a difference, or if you study, the amount of time and effort you decide to put on certain classes. Socially, what you decide to say, and to develop the hability to stay quiet when necessary. Maybe you think that those little things don't make a huge difference at the long-term, but when you see how your life can change drastically with every little step you take, you learn to pay attention to it.

4. Patience ✦

It is a strong word, it is even harder to apply to our lives sometimes. Being patient not only with people, but with our circumstances. Sometimes things that we don't like happens, and we don't even understand why because we thought that we did everything right, but everything happens for a reason, it's like a fruit, you could take it out of the tree earlier because you're hungry, but it isn't that mature and tasty, but if you just wait, resist the hunger, the fruit will be way better. That applies to money, emotional growth and life changes. Learn to understand that sometimes, pain will be the sign to something better than your current situation.

5. Stop following the crowd ✦

Set standards and learn what is good for you, if you just rely on others to decide what is best for you, or even worse; you know something is bad for you and still do it for others, then expect low quality experiences. People time to time will call you boring or even extreme just because you decide to be loyal to your values. If something that everyone is doing seems beneficial, do it, but because it gives you something valuable, not because of the crowd. You can apply this rule to everything; friends, money, and other experiences. The amount ot peace and comfort that you can get with this transformation is a huge life upgrade.

This were some topics that come to mind when the "high value" term is mentioned. And remember, no one is perfect and every little thing makes us unique. Life is a long journey that you can decide to upgrade with every little move.

Hope u enjoyed! ♡

[starlight-tav]

Loving Astarion, for me, is an act of self-compassion. Maybe it's different for others who play BG3, but every time I have built a relationship with Astarion, it has been both intentional and a challenge. I've had to commit to loving him, to learning him, to balancing what is good for me with what is good for him.

Astarion is desperately hungry for safety. But he doesn't know what safety looks and feels like; it's an unfamiliar animal that seems hostile to him. If you are set on goodness for your playthrough, you have to be creative and sometimes underhanded in your efforts to be kind and merciful. Otherwise, he'll never trust you.

It is a commitment to figure out all of the ways that you can create safety and show him kindness in ways that he'll accept. I'm struggling to phrase it correctly, but it's so, so important to me that the more he trusts you, the harder it should be to love him, because that's when you learn about the harm he's caused and how little remorse he has for it. But instead, it gets easier to love him. You no longer need to disguise your kindness around him.

What's more, he no longer disguises his--at least, not as often. He even shows a bit of mercy.

If you choose to persuade him not to ascend, he thanks you for it. Not because you saved him, but because you were his mirror, showing him that he was always more than what his abuser made him. Even knowing he's done horrible things, you love him.

That's something that I desperately needed to see, to experience. Loving him through his pain and hunger and villainy helped me accept those parts of myself as well.

I'm so grateful to Larian and Neil Newbon for this character. He can be a real pain in the ass at times. But he's worth the effort. I love building a relationship with him and watching him learn who he is and who he can be. Is it a perfect experience? No. But I'm so thankful for it.

I don't know why, but I feel the need to apologize for the ramble. I'm sitting at work and just thinking about Astarion. I'm not doing all that well in my head recently, but I'm clinging to the things that matter to me. Anyway, you can ignore me.

[marypaol]

Behind Closed Doors

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Secret relationship, anxiety, struggles eating, I think that’s it :)

Summary: Reader is friends with the Golden Trio as well as in the same House as them, but is dating Draco in secret.

Note: Dedicated to @miniy00ng1 for requesting! I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

___

It was mealtime, the whole Hall filled with students in different colored robes, banners hung up about the upcoming Quidditch game. The whole place seemed to be buzzing with excitement, every face having a smile as all stomachs were fulfilled. But the girl at the maroon themed table thought otherwise. Eating seemed like the last appealing thing in existence sat the moment. In fact, the gold plate in front of her seemed to be blinding, its reflective surface painful to the eye. She leaned back in her chair, ceasing the sting as she continued to push around food on her plate; she didn’t feel like eating at the moment. Not that she wasn’t hungry, she was ever since Snape opened his mouth in Potions, but now as she sat in the Great Hall, other plates of students piled with delicious food, eating felt sickening. Something was stopping her from doing so, a feeling nagging at her stomach trying to eat her alive until all she could feel was whatever this was. The feeling was sickening as well and all she felt like doing was falling face first on her bed.

“Something the matter?”

She flinched softly, fork slipping easily from her hand to the floor, a loud clacking sound as a few students looked over. Her heart pounded slightly from the unexpected voice but she quickly composed herself, fixing her hair and facing her friends. Hermonie was the one who spoke, eyes filled with concern as their eyes met each other’s.

The girl nodded and swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the feeling inside her but unsuccessfully doing so.

“Y-“ she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m doing well.”

Hermonie glanced at the red head next to her for some sort of we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later look but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention, too busy talking to Harry about their plan to punch Malfoy in the nose.

The intelligent girl sighed, glancing back at her friend.

“Oh if you’re certain.”

The girl suddenly felt it coming up her throat, the secret she held in for months bottled up inside her, only for her to loose her ability to speak, voice stuck in her stomach. The feeling was thick as it settled there, daring her to spill what was going on behind her friends’ backs.

“I’m certain.” She managed out, voice cracking sharply before she cleared her throat.

Hermonie gave her a concerned look before turning her attention back to the book she had provided herself. That was after she snuck another look.

The girl herself was relieved her friend didn’t push further, or she would have almost told her what was really going on. You see, the feeling nagging at her wasn’t hunger, as she was trying to convince herself, but rather anxiety. She knew something they didn’t, and as each day went on she felt worse and worse about it. If there was one thing she didn’t like it was keeping secrets from her friends. She liked expressing her feelings with them because they would show their support as kindness; both something she personally didn’t experience as often as she desired. But this wasn’t a little thing that happened in class that she was worried about, it was big. And she was supposed to keep it a secret?

The nagging feeling grew despite her mental pleads, but she tried to ignore it as she again tried to eat, but once again failing to do so.

~~

The soft sheets surrounded her later that evening, emerald bed frames not quite fitting in with her maroon robes. Pale fingers were in her hair, stroking the stress from that day away with his touch. His lips pressed against her head briefly before he spoke. “You okay, love?” He whispered against her hair, voice almost muted but she hears him perfectly.

She nodded against his chest, his scent seeming to get stronger in her scenes just from doing so. Draco sighed very softly.

“I know something’s wrong.” He stated, letting his words float in the air for a little so she would reconsider telling him. It was her turn to sigh, this time it was in defeat since she knew she had to tell him eventually.

“I feel bad.” She explained hesitantly. She could almost sense Draco’s confusion so she spoke again, this time getting up a little and looking into his eyes. The silver drowned her, surrounding her in concern. Her heart stuttered at the sight.

She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it softly.

“I mean, we can’t keep it a secret forever. They’re gonna find out sooner or later.” She explained. She felt him tense beneath her, hand squeezing hers right back.

“Look, loves, I know you feel bad for not telling them, and that’s okay, it’s normal, but they’ll judge us. You know that.” He said this calmly and gently, stroking her hand with his thumb while his other hand went through her hair.

She nodded, deciding to let the stress go and focus on the moment hand. She had someone that understood her, cared for her, loved her, and she was thinking about what others thought?

“What are you thinking about?” Draco asked her, taking notice on how she was looking out the window in deep thought, hand pausing on her head. She smiled into his robes, rubbing her cheek on it comfortably. She finally felt like the anxiety disappeared and she couldn’t see a time where it would come back again.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly, loves.”

“You.”

Thank you again for requesting! You’re appreciated! 🫶🏻

[thesharktanksdriver]

Determination!: The all blue night (platonic)

Masterlist for the series.

I put in Zeff’s manga reasoning for loosing a leg this one cause it makes more sense and is much more impactful in my opinion. Like I get they didn’t want to put in he ate his own leg to survive because it’s super dark but I digress. Sorry for the slow rate I’m writing stuff school has been taking a big toll on me inspiration wise and kinda mentally too lol

tag list : @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck @spqce-bun @coca-cola-fiend @Koifishpoond @eyes-ofhell @imaginarydreams @ghostdoodlen

At some point in a long while hunger becomes or less like second nature

You knew the feeling intimately

It starts as a burning pit that consumes your entire stomach

Eating through stomach lining as acid boils over and spills into the rest of you

It travels and burns

Eating you away as hands scrape against the midriff to try and alleviate the ache

The pain

The want

The need

The agony

But eventually the pain becomes background noise

As does all pain after so long

You’d died so many times in so many different ways and yet starvation is one thing that is familiar to you

And like how death is your friend whom you see oh so often

So is hunger

Nights spent alone clutching a completely empty stomach

The pain becoming almost a comforting sensation in its familiarity

At some point you’d just accepted that your stay hungry

That even when dying over and over again and occasionally treating yourself to a meal you’d stay hungry

Because even when you ate it was never enough

Stomach still aching and swirling in its emptiness and collapsing in on itself

At some point a long time ago you used to go to bed with a full stomach and now each night your rocked to sleep by the pain of an empty one

Things used to be different

And you can’t remember what that was like anymore

So you just accepted as it was

And so you accepted you’d be forever hungry

Ending up a cruise ship wasn’t your intention but just as most things that happen to you it quickly becomes a new experience

And as always you go with the flow of things

Ending up on the cruise wasn’t planned

Nor was ending up somehow being found by a young chef boy who helped cover for you

But as always fate seemed to have different plans

And you just rolled with it

The boy’s name was Sanji, he was 10 and helped you hide in the storage area of the cruise

At night he’d sneak you out

With hands much like your own, scarred yet retaining a soft and caring quality he’d guide you through the halls

Past the creaky floorboards he knew by heart after 2 years of apparently living on this ship

Through the elegant dining rooms that housed grand chandeliers and checkerboard floors

Beneath the white table cloths of spotless tables he and you sit

Quietly looking at recipe books together or sharing stories between the two of you

Sanji was apparently from the north blue originally, but found himself on the cruise that now housed him called the orbit

The chefs found him one night

Scared and alone pillaging the kitchen

They took pity on him, partially out of genuine concern and intrigue at seeing the spark of talent in him

And since then he’s been cooking and calling this place “home”

Though that was a vague term

Much like yourself Sanji had ambitions beyond this small boat cruising the sea

He wanted to find something

Wanted to be something beyond an errand boy

Wanted to cook for anyone who’d have his food

To ensure they didn’t go to bed hungry

The way he describes it to you under a table in candlelight resounds something in you

Especially since he then takes your hands, promising he’d ensure you’d be full

That you’ll have the best food he can provide

All for you

Someone who’s still a stranger to him

A stowaway on a cruise meant for upper crust but not quite celestial dragons (yet they both act the same either way)

And he still promises he’d do everything in his power to make you content

He cooks for you as if you were someone important and not a stowaway

You nod along not having the will to tell him he’d never be able to do that

Not when you can’t remember what being full felt like anyways

And so you lie and say your full after you finish a plate even if your still staving

His blinding smile is able to make you feel the pain momentarily go away anyways

Sanji tells you one night of a place called “the all blue”

Supposedly it was the place that connected the north, south, east, and west together

Creating a sea where creatures from all four seas could coexist together

It was a chef and fisherman’s dream

But it was just that

A dream

Unattainable and imaginary

Or…at least that’s what everybody else thought

But not Sanji

And certainly not you

He speaks so hopeful about his dream

Of finding the all blue

Of proving everyone wrong

Of making his dream come true

He has the spark to do it

You can tell by his eyes alone

Sapphire hued just like the waves of the ocean he seeks

Similarly he sees a spark in your eyes as well

Almost seeming to Glow in hazy candlelight

And as you say you believe in him

In his dream

Believed in him when no one else did

Well, who’s to say he couldn’t become more motivated

Especially when your eyes shine like stars above the sea

And when in the candlelight highlighted by luminous stars hidden in irises he asks you about your dream

And in a haze of memory and emotion you tell him a story

One you cannot remember now but he holds dear in his heart

The story of wanting

The story loss

The story of loneliness

The story of a family torn apart

And the story of a devil fruit

By the end of it all you and Sanji sit in a darkened kitchen

Two stowaways on the same ship (though one is welcomed and the other is a mystery)

Both connected through the spark of a dream to sail the seas

One’s purpose clear while the other is hazed

But either which way the two talk in an empty kitchen and eat

Unknowingly both know what it feels like to starve

And both know loss

The two of you make a pinky promise, when he finds the all blue you’ll be the first to have one of his meals and you promise you’ll always be his friend

The raid of the orbit comes out of nowhere and somehow predictable at the same time

You’d come to know that your luck was something that ran out quite fast

And unfortunately you were no stranger to things such as this

But typically when a ship went down you were on the deck

Now instead you were in the storage

Stood atop boxes that were quickly being eaten up by cold unforgiving water

Yelling and screams echoes down quickly flooding halls

Waves crashing so Harshly against the ship that it begins to crack the wood, doesn’t help that the invading ship is bumping into it either

Confusion spreading through you like wildfire as the water continues to raise higher and higher

If you were anyone else you’d be scared of dying to such a fate

But your not

Your more worried about Sanji as you trudge through the wading waves

Feet becoming heavier and heavier with each step you take

Feeling as if concrete was slowly forming shoes over your boots or chains manifesting from the cold water that sucks warmth from you

By now it’s just above your waist and the effects of it really begin to hit you

Soon enough you’d be immobile

Unable to move and frozen like a Statue for the waves that’ll sink you with it

If you didn’t die from the cold first but you doubted that

With how the steadily rising of it your definitely drowning before hypothermia or shock

Though at this point even the pain of choking on salt water, it quickly filling your lungs for the burn of air loss to help fill the liquid

But then you hear sloshing through the blaring of your ears

And your name

It echoes and for a moment you need a moment to realize what was said or who even called out

But then it hits you

Sanji

He came back for you

Came back knowing you’d be in danger

Came back knowing you were in an area with water

Came back knowing you’d be eaten up by the waves if he didn’t

Came back because he knew knew you ate a devil fruit

Shaking cold hands grab your own and he drags you with him

But at the point in which the water gets to the point of immobilizing you he decides to pick you up instead

Placing you on his back as he drags both himself and you through flooding halls

Water splashes

Yelling continues

Sanji’s rapidly thumbing heart echoes through your ribcage as you helplessly lay your head on his shoulder

He should’ve left you there to save himself

You say so to his face

But despite that he yells at you for being an idiot

About how in the hell you expected him to leave you there to die

Not when he promised he’d cook you the first meal he’d make when he found the all blue

Not when you were the only one who enjoyed his cooking

Through the chaos you and him stumble out into the deck

The boat rocking violently as rain and sea water pelts down on you like hail

Your still weak because of this, the water soaking you to the bone

But thoroughly out of being submerged you slink off of Sanji’s back

But he holds your hand

It shakes in your grip

He’s scared and you can’t blame him

Swords clash all around the two of you, and somehow both of you weave through the carnage

For reasons you don’t like to think about he seemed used to fighting just as you were

But unlike you who content in laying down and dying he fights

Sanji will die clawing to survive

It’s why he picks up a sword

Why he points it at a pirate despite the fact he won’t win

Why he pushes you behind him even if your stronger and older than him

Because Sanji cares

And that’s something very rare now in the world

Even when the captain of the crew comes up to the two of you Sanji doesn’t back down

He proudly declares his dream

To find the all blue

And within that captains eyes you see it

That same spark, that same dream, that same determination

Though it’s dying and faded it for a moment lights up once more

You see it before being engulfed by water and grasp for it

You, Sanji and the pirate known as Zeff end up on a barren rock in the middle of the ocean

No grass nor trees

Just a jutting stone too far up from the water to safely jump in from or fish

Stuck after the captain with dimming eyes saved both you and Sanji after a colossal wave swept the two of you off ship

In the water despite your attempts in making Sanji let you go he didn’t

His grip had held stead-strong as he kept trying to pull you up with him

Unable to even as air escaped his lungs

But Zeff intervened

And the three of you were alive for now

But you could hardly call this living

You sit with Sanji looking out towards the sea, hoping for a ship to cross by

The food given by Zeff won’t last long to feed either of you past a few days, you know that

Even if Sanji does his best to ration it between the two of you

You know one of you won’t survive

And you know you won’t let it be him

Starvation is not a new go around for you

It’s probably your most common death besides dehydration, drowning or hypothermia

But it’s not a fun way to go even if the pain of a empty stomach became commonplace for you

You can’t let Sanji die that way

Not before finding the all blue

So when he’s not looking you hid the food he gives you

Hiding each piece and scrap of moldy bread

Keeping it from his sapphire eyes that become more and more sunken like your own

Keeping the fact how much pain your in from him

You distract from it all by telling him more stories

Of singing songs even if your throat feels like sand paper is scraping against it with each word

Each syllable

Each hum

But you don’t care

Not when you see his eyes reignite with hope

Not when his sullen face pulls up into a smile when you tell him of when you learned piano from a crew who befriended a whale

Not when they sparkle with curiosity when hearing of a land atop the clouds with white winged people

Not when you see the slightest bit of ease when you tell him of the constellations

Pointing to the stars and explaining their meaning

Telling him how no one was ever truly alone when the stars hung and watched

That’s what’s you had told yourself after so many weeks alone drifting

That the stars were watching

That you weren’t alone as you clutched Roger’s coat closer

Everyone was made of stardust and in the end that’s where they returned when they died

You weren’t alone, not with the stars watching over you

Not when Roger was watching over you

As you lay awake while Sanji clings to you for warmth you pull the coat closer around the two of you

One night as Sanji slept you snuck to the other side of the island

Zeff doesn’t face you, but the smell of iron lingers in a scent as familiar as the sea to you

Blood

It stains the ground and air in its presence

It’s familiar to you though, even if that’s a sad fact to admit

Sitting down next to the old captain you look to the night sky

Your oldest friend of them all

Bleak and empty with the stars being the only boots of light penetrating the deep darkness

Dead stars continuing to shine even after being extinguished, their light still traveling eons away to hit your eyes in their gentle glow amidst the sorrow and joy of life

His hand trumps your shoulder as you sit next to him, he can probably feel the bone beneath now paper thing flesh

Fat being eaten away by your body to try and survive

Leaving you a shell of yourself even moreso than him or Sanji

He can tell, and despite not looking in his diminishing eyes you can sense the horror in them

His shaking hand is enough to tell you

But despite it all you smile at him, now looking at the weathered man

Your eyes speak volumes that he can’t decipher in such little amount of time

But even with that he sees the understanding and acceptance of your own fate

And it crushes him

Grinds him down to his very spirit

And Zeff is left speechless as you tend to his tourniquet and stump of a leg

Still bloody and raw

You don’t flinch at the sight at all

If anything you gaze at blood and gore as if it were normal

Examining it as if it were a paper cut before assuring him it’s luckily not infected and that he cut off his blood circulation correctly

How you knew this knowledge was beyond him

And yet you knew it all the same

Humming a soft tune to yourself that he hears softly in the daytime across the little barren rock of an island

It’s raspy and quiet

And at the same time hauntingly loud in his ears

It seems to linger there even as you go back to Sanji

As does the fact you know what your fate is

And that there’s nothing him nor the boy could do for you, your body on the cusp of death that nothing could change that

But all the same you smile and sing in the face of it all

As if awaiting death like an old friend at a bar

Drunk on the remaining days of your life as you sung songs awaiting his arrival

You’ve always known when your time was near, you always seemed to sense it before it had come

Maybe death was a sentient entity and you’d just been able to sense it better as time went on

Or maybe you were just so used to your body shutting down that you’d noticed the signs before it happened

But either which was you knew your time was soon

There was no crying about it

Nor shivers of fear

If anything it felt more like a release and a hopeful occasion

Because you’d be released from the hunger if only to feel your stomach become empty again (but for the moment you wake in that void where you clutch a golden star the pain is gone)

If only to be released from this barren prison and find a way to save Sanji and Zeff

Because if you died you could get them help

That was seemingly the only purpose of your powers anyways

Die

Comeback

Rinse and repeat

You were fine with it though

As long as it meant you were able to help others (even at your own expense)

Every moment drags on

Every twitch of your finger takes so much out of you

Your body not having enough to power it

Despite it though you sit beside Sanji one last time

You sing for him and tell him stories

Tell him of the grand line and its wonders

The new world and its mystery

Trailing off occasionally for a break as everything becomes harder to do

The words seeming to slur and slosh around in your mouth

He can tell something is wrong

By the tears gathering in ocean blue eyes he knows

So he savours what you say

What you tell

What you sing

The words being engraved in his mind as paper thin skeletal hands clutch his own

That night he falls asleep much later than he usually did

He sits staring up to the stars you’d told him of

His grip deathly tight on your hand

Thumb lightly grazing your pulse as if to ensure himself your still there

Still breathing

Still alive

Using your pulse to try and keep himself awake even if it’s wasting precious energy

When he eventually drifts off with tears gathered in his eyes (knowing you’d be deathly still in the morning, cold and stiff and forever asleep) you tell him to find it

The all blue

He dreams of that place when you slip from his grasp

He dreams of the fishes mingling together when you take out the scraps hidden away and placing them in his pile

He dreams of preparing when you hobble over to Zeff

He dreams of cooking when the old man begs you to eat, to be selfish and you reply that you are being selfish. That you want him and Sanji to live for your sake and that was as selfish as it came

He dreams of serving you a dish when the old man can do nothing but hold you close and not want to let go and yet eventually you slip away

He dreams of your reaction as you say to Zeff your gonna go get some rest and promise to get them help with a gentle smile

He dreams of sitting beside you with his feet in the water wadding slowly, the sight of a sunset fading quickly into night

Briefly he jostles momentarily awake when you lay back next to him, smiling and telling him to get some rest

Halfway asleep he nods, partially thinking it was his dream because he’s had no one care for him like this except you (and mom and maybe Reiju)

So of course for the moment in which he’s only partially aware he sees it as a happy dream

You hold him close and he goes back to dreaming

He dreams of you sitting by his mom in that hospital bed, a dish for the two of you in her lap while you fade into the nothingness that is night

When he wakes that morning he wakes up alone and cold

He lays there for several minutes sobbing to himself as he notices the food he rationed out for you a few feet away untouched and moldy

Sanji sobs and his all blue eyes spill with tears

Across the island the old man does the same

Your body is not on the island and unknowingly to them faded to stardust

But both later come to the conclusion that in your last moments you’d decided to take the plunge into the water

To not leave them with a rotting corpse on that barren rock (since despite both of their hunger neither would eat your corpse. Zeff could eat his own leg in desperation but that was his leg, not the dead body of a child)

A reminder of both their failures

One in protecting the two young children he sacrificed his leg for

And the other in promising you’d be the first to taste his dream

Unbeknownst to them across the sea a young child reports to a ship of being a survivor of the orbit

Saying that they saw two others shipwrecked on a rocky island jutting out from the ocean

As a ship is sent off to investigate an odd group of crows end up dropping food on the barren island to Sanji and Zeff’s bitter relief

Two loafs of bread and a canteen of water being able to get them a few more days before rescue

The urge to go see them is there within your heart, but for their sake you decide not to

You’d caused them too much pain in the first place

You don’t want to rub salt in the wound

Plus you’d prefer oregano instead to season yourself

Sanji is a troubled child, he’s self aware to know that about himself

It’s perhaps why everyone hated him

But for some reason you didn’t and surprisingly enough so did Zeff

The two of you handed out kindness to him as if he deserved it

As if he weren’t a failure on so many levels both genetically and emotionally

In a sense he could get why you did it, a kid only maybe a year or two older than him

Someone he viewed as his closest friends despite the relativity of time spent together and as a sibling he wishes he had (the now healed bruises and scars you saw but never pushed to ask about as you helped put salves over the old wounds are evident of that)

Someone who sacrificed themselves for him, for some fucking reason saving your food for him even as you withered away before his eyes

If he had been more watchful he would’ve noticed it, but being half there on that island starved and scared left him more like a shell

Made him ignorant until it was too late

He could accept why you care, but he can’t accept why Zeff cares

Can’t accept why this man, a hardened pirate would give a shit about him

Offer him kindness

Take him in

Mentor him

And eat his own leg to ensure Sanji and you wouldn’t go hungry (partially worked in the end)

Sanjis sometimes gets kindness from women, moms warm hugs are evident in his mind as is the tears from a sister who tells him to go and be free

Sanji’s sometimes kindness from those his age, your the shining example but he can also think of a few guests in the orbit who played games with him in its halls

But most of all Sanji has never experienced kindness from a man

So seeing Zeff go out of his way for him

Seeing how Zeff on the rescue ship doesn’t let anyone hound him for invasive answers and ensures he gets food first

The good food the ship goers give in pity that he scrounges up with a snotty noose and runny eyes, Zeff always lets him eat first before having his own fix

How Zeff rubs his back as the both mourn

It means a lot more than words can say

As does the fact that Zeff on a silent night says he’s going to open a restaurant on the sea

And that he needs staff

A silent invitation that is solidified as Sanji quietly takes his hand with tears in his eyes

If the old man is crying Sanji doesn’t comment

Not even if raindrops fall down from a clear night sky and pelt his dirtied kitchen apron

Not when he’s held close in loving arms

Not when they sit in the deck both brokenly humming the song you’d sing like a broken record

Out of tune and off key

It plays when the two of them cook in the kitchen of the baratie

Sanji always looks to the stars when he takes a smoke break, Zerg occasionally accompanying him on the balcony in a somber silence

And even though Sanji hates wasting food he can’t help but make an extra plate sometimes

Can’t help but subconsciously make more than needed to feed someone not there

Zeff doesn’t comment on it and tells the others to lay off if they ask Sanji about it

He can’t judge when he sometimes does the same

Can’t when he sometimes looks out to sea and hears your humming in the waves

The small song sung by a raspy throat that helped ease hours of the days spent on that barren rock

Days in which he worries of his wound being infected

Days in which he worried for the boy who shared his dream and the child who looked as if they accepted death

And it stays with him

Because Zeff can so clearly see your sunken face when he spots a starved begger on the street

Can so clearly see how you curled up at night trying to keep Sanji warm as skeletal hands clung to you

Can clearly see your eyes when he stares out at night, the full shine of stars that looked so bleak

Can so clearly see you valued the two of them more than yourself no matter how either of them tried to save you

And yet they couldn’t do it

You weren’t here anymore, no body to bury or honour either

Nothing but a barren rock and cold salty water to serve as your grave

The chefs at baratie try to question when one night a year they see Zeff and Sanji leave a full plate of food on the deck

But none of them ever get an answer except it was for someone hungry they couldn’t feed

Patty always tries to chase away the crows that peck at the food but each year they return to eat that plate of food until nothing is left

And oddly enough the murder always seems to leave behind a loaf of bread in the plates place

Years later a cannonball crashes through the baratie

Cracking and breaking timber in of what Sanji calls a home

Besides that and a marine asshole with his beautiful date it’s a mostly normal day

Not the worse he’s experienced

Nor the best

Average would be the best way to put it, the baratie often times seeming more like a fight club rather than a proper cooking establishment

If the smirk wasn’t enough I n the douches face then it was the fact he wasted perfectly good food

The thought sickens him

A sunken starved face stares back at him from the wasted soup

Boney and dead

It leaves him sick to his stomach especially when a starved pirate stumbles through the door

And everything seems to come back to him all at one once

Especially the man’s eyes, they look too much like your own on those last few days on the hellish rock

Soulless and empty

When he places a plate in front of the starved man he doesn’t expect anyone from the dinning room to follow in his example

Not with their cheering of the man being beaten down by patty

But stepping through the side door someone follows

He extinguishes his cigarette and turns around just as he hears the clink of another plate being lowered to the wooden deck

And it’s there that Sanji freezes

Your eyes stare back at him in just as much shock

A cigarette long forgotten falls to the deck and is extinguished when he steps on it

His arms wrap around your own as tears drop freely from his eyes

You hold him the same as you did the last

One hand laced in golden hair while the other pats his back

His knees buckle from the weight of it all

This has to be a dream

He only sees you in dreams or in the faces of the truly hungry

Your sunken starry eyes staring out from others

But your here

And your healthy and safe and alive

And despite the fact he’s confused as all hell

He can’t help but thank whatever god there is out there that your here again

Not just a reflection of a memory

Your here

When you pull away he can’t help but want to pull you back just to ensure you don’t go

To not make the same mistake that Zeff did in letting you go that he still regrets every single day of his life

But as you pull away you don’t do so entirely, you hold both his hands as he kneels to match your level

A confused starved pirate watches confused alongside a boy in a straw hat

“I know you probably have a lot of questions” you say, your hands fidgeting in his with nervousness. You expect him to be mad, to blow up at you and yell at you to leave but he doesn’t, instead you feel his thumb rubbing circles comfortingly on your knuckles. “Think you can get the old man? I think I owe it to you to explain….oh and I’ll pay for the food. I grabbed a random plate on the way here”

[thesweetnessofspring]

Another thing about the epilogue is that in the beginning, Katniss doesn't say she doesn't want kids. She says she's never having them. Big difference.

Here's the thing, I do agree with you in terms of Katniss's heart of hearts, but there is this exchange with Gale:

"I never want to have kids," I say. "I might. If I didn't live here," says Gale. "But you do," I say, irritated. "Forget it," he snaps back.

Katniss doesn't give us insight exactly into why she doesn't want kids here. She does speak of how difficult it is to have a family, and at this point she hasn't explained what The Hunger Games are. Also at the start of the series, Katniss is resigned to the fact that this is the way life is. She's not itching for rebellion like Gale. To her, life will continue this way, and she doesn't want to have kids in the only Panem she's ever known. So therefore, she will "never want to have kids."

The reasoning for this declaration is given more depth in the last chapter of the novel:

That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn't matter because I'll never be able to afford the king of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we've just been through?

And in Catching Fire in regards to the baby bomb:

Isn't it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future—the loss of my children to the Games? And it could be true now, couldn't it? If I hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until I recoil at even the suggestion of marriage or a family?

Honestly, these lines are just heartbreaking. In the first one, Katniss uses transactional language, as she often does. It's not that she doesn't want a family, she can't afford it, just as she couldn't afford the cakes in the bakery shop. The cost of having a child would be far too high, of losing her children to the Games or else watching them struggle in the pains of hunger, cold, and want. To possibly die herself and leave them vulnerable, as what happened to her after her father's death. In the CF quote, she admits that she built a defense against the very thing that could destroy her: love. The most powerful love she could experience, and a potential fate that she "got a taste of" with Prim at the 74th Reaping, but could curtail by volunteering for her, something she would be powerless to do as a mother.

If Katniss truly didn't want children, didn't want a marriage, didn't want what her life was in the epilogue, she wouldn't have needed to build those defenses. And not only that, it was layers of them. As if each time she had a thought or feeling toward that life, she told herself, "no, that's not for me. That is a life I can't have."

People may argue Katniss was choosing not to have children, but is it really a free choice if the Capitol's violence would be perpetuated against her children in either poverty and/or a spot in the Games? If the choices are a.) never have sex that will lead to pregnancy b.) see your child go hungry and live in poverty; or c.) see your child be taken to the Hunger Games, how is that at all free choice? Like every other aspect of her life, even this, the choice to marry or not, was being coerced by the Capitol even before she stepped in the Games.

It's only a choice when she can be as certain as any parent reasonably can that her children are safe. And though it understandably takes her time, in the end, she does agree to have children with Peeta. The "layers of defenses" slowly come down and she's able to see what was behind there: a desire for a family. And with that, taking back the life that the Capitol took from her when she was eleven years old.

[thestressedsimmer]

April 7th, 1316: The Picard Farm, Willow Creek

Iseie had not yet slept through the night. That was why, when they did not hear a single cry until the morning, both Éduin and Edelinne rushed to check on him - as much as they wanted to be happy and celebrate this milestone, there was a sick feeling in their guts. Their parental instincts screaming that something was wrong.

Éduin got there first, leaning over the cradle to check. He was silent for a long, long time as he stared in shock at the boy.

"He's not.... He's not breathing." He mumbled, softly. "He must have passed in the night." Their boy had so much energy. Sure, he was hungry more often than he wasn't, but he thought that his son was thriving better than the rest of them.

The scream that came from his wife broke him out of his shock and disbelief. It was a scream of pure pain. Pain, anger, despair. . .

As she fell to their knees, their daughter awoke startled. She was only a year old, there was no way she could understand why her mama was screaming but she did know that she was scared.

"It must be my fault. My milk... I haven't eaten enough and my milk dried. He was so hungry and I couldn't help him, what sort of mother am I?"

Her husband sat beside her, tugging her into his arms. He felt his own tears streaming down his cheeks, but his wife needed him now.

"It is not your fault." He said, forcing her to look at him. "Everyone is hungry. He just was not strong enough. Let's just be grateful he is with the Watcher now and will never experience hunger pains again."

The 'comfort' rang hollow to even him. It's hard to believe that any place is better for a child to be than with their parents, even if that other place is with the Watcher, but what else are a father and mother to do to ease their broken hearts?

[echoes-in-the-multiverse]

Food for Fangs: Unmasking Vampire Parts.

Personal and Educational Post.

Written by Blade.

The way dissociative identities present as individual parts reflects how trauma has affected the brain. Their traits stem from what was needed to protect against trauma or overcome stress. These traits or ways of perceiving the world may be disguised or interpreted by the brain in the presentation of different types of alters. This allows the individual to remain unaware of their trauma, as the brain may create a narrative that feels understandable and logical, reducing the likelihood of questioning these details. It may be the way the individual's brain allows itself to feel things the host personality was not allowed to during abuse. 

However, there are many misconceptions about the way parts present in Dissociative Identity disorder. This series will cover non-human parts. This part 1 post is about Vampires, written by Blade, a vampire alter. This post will also primarily only cover parts when in executive control, as we feel discussing internal worlds is a different section more suited for the post of their own.

"Can vampire alters consume human food?" 

This question often arises due to the misconception that vampire alters truly believe they are vampires trapped in a human body. However, this is not the case. While an alter may present as a vampire, they are still aware of their human biology. If an alter is unable to understand or realise their role within the system fully, it could result from high levels of dissociation, such as derealisation and depersonalisation. It is crucial to address and work through these issues, as allowing a trauma-based reaction to persist outside of the traumatic experience can be harmful. 

Do they eat human food?

Depending on the role an alter has within the system, they may be required to consume food if they take executive control for an extended period. However, there may be trauma associated with food, and this discomfort may manifest through the vampire alter. Some may have the role of holding these feelings to prevent others from experiencing them, as it may cause less distress for them as a vampire who does not have an innate connection to the concept of consuming food. This is what my part did, I was disgusted at the idea of food and I only began to feel normal hunger after some therapy focused on my individual. This was also not questioned by other members of the system because it felt normal that a vampire would not want to eat human food or find it repulsive. 

But aren’t Vampires always hungry?

Although not all vampire alters are hungry all the time, this could be another trait of protection that is allowed through a vampire part. As discussed by Howell EF (2011) in “Understanding and Treating Dissociative Identity Disorder”, a non-human part may form a protective state that is allowed to express an emotion or feeling that the host part is unable to. Expressing hunger or being allowed to feel hungry may be something that the individual was not allowed to do so the brain displaced that feeling onto a part suited for that position of dealing with that pain, or the child/adult experiencing more trauma related that feeling as being like a vampire.

“Vampire Alters crave blood”

This relates to the point I made earlier: vampire alters are not actual vampires from mythology, so they do not crave blood. However, there may be aspects of their role that give the impression they crave blood. This could include being around procedures involving blood, being around mentions of blood, or being tasked with clearing a wound if it occurs. In the mind of a child or an adult experiencing additional trauma, a vampire would be the most suitable alter for this role, as they would naturally be comfortable around blood. However, to a part that is unaware of this trauma, or even to the vampire alter themselves, they may feel them being around as an impression that they crave blood like in myths. A vampire alter may also be assumed to crave blood if they happen to also be a persecutor who causes physical harm that results in blood.

 A person's craving to drink blood, known as Clinical Vampirism, is a rare condition that has been documented through case studies. However, it is often associated with a delusion or as part of mental health conditions such as schizophrenia. But, there was a case study on a man who suffered from vampirism and was later diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). His violent tendencies, stemming from his vampirism, manifested through his other identity, leading outsiders to believe that his dissociative identity was a real vampire as an alter. This perpetuates the misconception that vampire alters are always like their mythical counterparts. However, the introduction of the case report clearly states that there is no established link between vampirism and DID, and they should be treated as separate conditions. This case study serves to show that vampirism is possible in patients with DID even if DID did not cause the vampirism. We have included the case study in our bibliography to provide sources, but we must issue a trigger warning for extreme violence, SH, su*cide, and trauma of all ages. Additionally, the use of the r slur in the introduction should be noted as it may be offensive and we do not agree with the use of the word. We will have linked more reading on the topic including other case studies of people with schizophrenia and one study that talks about the different levels/types of vampirism documented. All the same trigger warnings apply.

Although vampires do not have an inherent desire to drink blood, some may find comfort in consuming red foods. This may serve as a way for their brain to establish safe foods and comfort through this alter without it seeming out of place or may have been the brain thinking the only way the individual would be able to consume these foods was if they were a vampire and hence the trait is given to the vampire alter. In my own recovery, addressing my relationship with food was important. I eventually discovered that my comfort food was tomatoes, and I found it easier to consume foods like Gazpacho, which is in liquid form. This allowed me to find comfort in eating while also embracing my vampire identity because it felt like a natural progression towards something more positive, as it also involved addressing past trauma but brought comfort too in being a non-human part.

This post serves as an important reminder that DID is a trauma disorder so everything about an individual will be shaped by trauma. It is not a fantasy or roleplay in which dissociative identities are made or exist by.

Bibliography

Howell EF. Understanding and Treating Dissociative Identity Disorder. Routledge; 2011.

Sakarya D, Gunes C, Ozturk E, Sar V. ‘Vampirism’ in a Case of Dissociative Identity Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Psychotherapy and Psychosomatics. 2012;81(5):322-323. doi:https://doi.org/10.1159/000335930

O’Brien C, Hallahan B. Delusions of Vampirism in an Adolescent and Treatment with Clozapine: a Case Report. Cureus. Published online October 2, 2023. doi:https://doi.org/10.7759/cureus.46352

Halevy A, Levi Y, Shnaker A, Orda R. Auto-vampirism--an Unusual Cause of anaemia. Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine. 1989;82(10):630-631. Accessed July 25, 2024. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1292349/?page=2

Hervey WM, Catalano G, Catalano MC. Vampiristic Behaviors in a Patient with Traumatic Brain Injury Induced Disinhibition. World Journal of Clinical Cases. 2016;4(6):138. doi:https://doi.org/10.12998/wjcc.v4.i6.138

References 3-5 are the extra case studies referenced in the post.

Written by Blade.

This is a personal and educational post.

[loonybun]

hi guys here’s the cannibalism drabble as promised. i want you all to keep in mind i started this around 1 AM and finished around 3 AM and that is abundantly clear because it may seem less coherent the further it goes. which might add to it idk. also this entire thing is unedited so i’m slapping it at you like a wet fish

this isn’t canon, its for a specific au of mine called stainedrose :)

CONTAINS: cannibalism (a LOT of cannibalism), consumption of raw meat, disease mention, consumption of the brain, splitting someone’s skull open, past beheading mention, extreme gore all around, vivid descriptions of gore and violence, also the head is what’s eaten, very vague references to past trauma, implied conditioning, experimentation, dehumanization, sort of cult-like setting but also not really, unaware whumpee, parental figure whumper (not that obvious in this specific drabble but yeah. whumpee is an adult though), scientist whumper, carewhumper, test subject whumpee, inhuman whumpee, starvation, loss of autonomy, captivity, sleep deprivation, medical inaccuracies (i did research but never enough)

yeah it’s a doozy. enjoy!

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt hungry. Being starved for years had that effect. After a while, the feeling just faded away. It was as if he realized that he didn’t need such things. He was better than that, he wasn’t like these people. That’s what his superior always said, anyways. The boy had yet to internalize it, but at least the smaller sensations had faded entirely. Pain, fatigue, hunger, they seemed more like suggestions than experiences. The more he told himself that, the less they seemed to affect him.

When his superior entered the room one morning, carrying the newly severed head of an ordinary-looking brunette man, he was initially confused. His superior tossed it over to him, and it landed on the concrete floor with a hollow thud. The viscous liquid still flowed from where it had been lopped off, leaking onto the textured gray floor. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the smell. It reminded him of worse times— It reminded him to be grateful. He was being treated exceptionally well, considering his previous situation. He could bear the smell, and he could bear the way the cloudy brown eyes settled loosely on him.

He looked back to his superior, who nodded towards the head with a subtle smile. Hesitantly, the boy approached it, observing the finer details he hadn’t noticed before. It had been a clean cut, as the queen’s often were, and he could only assume that the man had died directly on contact. It was a merciful death. Quick and nearly painless. His superior stood in the doorway, removing his bloodied gloves and inverting them, before sticking them into his coat pocket. This wasn’t an ordinary gift. He’d been given knickknacks every so often, little bottles of fluid or clothes or trinkets. This was a test. Another test.

“…What is this?” He spoke at last, hoping for some sort of direction. He felt relieved when he watched the man’s face soften ever-so-slightly. He’d been right to ask. He waited for his superior’s instructions, or at the very least an explanation.

“Supper. You haven’t been eating much, and while I’m pleased with your results so far, I’d like to see how well you readjust. It’s also a test of your immune system. It’s an incredible testament to our work so far, and I’d love to see it in action.” He explained casually, a neutral smile upon his face. “All you need to do is enjoy your meal. I won’t mind the mess.”

The boy pushed any questions to the back of his mind. He’d gotten an answer, and he should focus on the task at hand rather than ruminate on specifics. If he performed well, everything would make sense sooner or later. His superior was a logical and kind man, and there was no reason for him to act off of a whim instead of necessity. Perhaps this was some sort of poison resistance test? He vaguely recalled something from his past life— the one he’d left far, far behind— something about prions infecting the brain. But of course, he wouldn’t be affected. His brain would obviously cancel the production of unnecessary proteins to prevent them from forming in the first place. That’s how that worked. That’s how it always worked. He just had to keep that in mind.

Without further hesitation, he sunk his teeth into the cheek of the head, holding it as you would a lover. The skin was warmer than he expected. Still fresh. He relished the sound that came as he tore off the chunk of flesh, and the flavor that bloomed in his mouth as the blood seeped from the wound. No meal he’d ever had before could begin to compare to the taste. Something more primal than hunger overtook him— the need to indulge. Engorge. Consume. He plucked the softer pieces of skin from the face and neck, gently tracing his lips against the skin as he sucked the blood and gore from the open wounds. The way the muscles actively began to tense with the more time he spent with it made it seem almost alive. Two interconnected beings becoming one. This soul had died alone and without struggle. The fight was over and lost. Neither of them had to be alone now. Whoever the person had been before death hardly mattered to him. That’s the beautiful thing about death. There’s no judgment in death.

Rigor mortis made the muscle and fat easier to bite into, though harder to chew. The texture was different now, more waxy. He’d worked away at most of the meat now, save for the scalp and area around the orifices of the face and the eyes. The exposed bone and viscera on the rest of the face was a sight to behold, saved from the possibility of rot. This body, or at least the head, would never know imperfection. It would be made useful, as all things should be.

He bit through the lower lip, easily pulling it away from the bone with his fingers and placing it into his mouth. Next came the upper— and then the nose, which was admittedly a lot more awkward to remove with how stiffly it clung to the bone beneath it. By the time he’d gotten to the eyes, he had already planned how to go about excavating them. The boy peeled the eyelids and swallowed them down, before placing his fingers between the space where the eye nestled into the skull. He didn’t need to apply much pressure before they came free with a squelching pop. He ate them one at a time, pressing them between his teeth until they burst. They tasted meaty, but not in the same way that the rest of the body had. The taste was a bit odd, even for him, though he downed them without complaint.

The gorey sockets stared back at him, the face now devoid of anything that resembled life. Hair still clung to the top like a matted mop, now tangled in blood and messy scraps where he had been less neat. The tendons that kept the bones together remained untouched. He’d been gentle with the process. As gentle as he could have been. He could have easily ripped the jaw from its hinge in order to get to the last bits of gore he’d missed, but he wasn’t a barbarian. He didn’t feel like his superior would approve of him disassembling the entire thing. It would make it so much harder to clean.

He turned back to his superior, who was observing his bloodied face with his typical soft smile. He wasn’t allowed to stop yet. The man motioned for him to continue, and the only thing he could do was comply.

The boy tore off the epidermis and hair, dropping it to the floor. The cranium was wet with blood and fluid, and he silently questioned how he could even go about breaking the thing. After a bit of contemplation, he bashed it against the concrete floor, watching the bone splinter and crack. The noise rippled throughout the room, and while he didn’t see it, he could feel his instructor flinch for the first time. He threw it down again, this time with more force. The back of the skull split, and he was able to pry his fingernails through a fracture. He chipped away at the skull until half of the brain was exposed. The squishy wet folds gave way as his hand slipped through them, before gripping onto a slippery blob. It came apart in his fingers, so he grabbed at more until he had a sensible handful. The brain was so soft he hardly even needed to chew. It was almost buttery in texture, and tasted nothing like the rest of the body. It didn’t have as strong of a taste as the rest of the body, being almost pure fat, but he persisted regardless. It’s what his superior wanted from him, and he’d be a fool to decline generosity when it was handed to him so kindly. The blood that mingled on his fingers at least added a bit more of a flavor, though it was diluted from whatever fluids the brain was already saturated in. He eventually decided to try a different approach, moving his hands to cup the skull like a bowl. The partially eaten brain sloshed around in its confinement. He put his mouth to the jagged edge and attempted to eat it like a soup. The mounds of pink brain matter that still remained were quickly devoured, leaving nothing but a hollow shell stripped of everything it could possibly be stripped of.

He stared over at his superior with a sheepish smile. The man nodded and stared at the fragments of skull and viscera on the floor. “Well, that was a spectacle. You did well. We’ll continue as usual, though you may have the rest of the day to yourself assuming you’ve finished your affirmations. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll send someone in.” He walked over to the disfigured skull and plucked it from the boy’s hands, before patting him on the back. “You’ve done so well today. I hope you keep up the good work.”

[clustercollective]

Things they don’t tell you about food insecurity as a child:

I’m 23 now. I buy my own food. I have food in my kitchen, and I can afford to go out to eat every so often. I have nutritious food, and I do not have any logical reason to worry it won’t be there later.

Yesterday I had a panic attack in the grocery store because I didn’t budget for cat litter. I could afford cat litter, and I need cat litter, but I could not leave the aisle until I put it back on the shelf because what if I can’t afford food now. I will have to make another trip to the store today to buy the cat litter.

I ate lunch earlier today. I ate leftovers, but it was a decent amount. I had chicken and mashed potatoes. By the time I finished eating, I was not hungry anymore. I am still not hungry. I have checked the kitchen 3 times looking for something to eat; not because I am hungry, simply because I need to eat so that when I inevitably run out of food, my body will have fat stores to sustain me.

Whenever I go out to eat, I set aside half of my meal to bring home, so I can guarantee I’ll have food for my next meal. When I get home though, I immediately panic that the leftovers won’t be there and I usually eat them right then, so that I will have fat stores and won’t have wasted food.

I keep a single cup of easy mac in my pantry so that no matter what, I always have food in the house. I keep cokes in my kitchen so that when I inevitably don’t have food, I at least have a sugary drink to lessen hunger pains. I compulsively buy ramen because it is cheap. If I have less than 3 packs of ramen in my house, I buy another box of it so I don’t run out, because it’s cheap and it’s at least filling. It’s not healthy or nutritious, but it’s filling.

I have a panic attack if my total at the grocery store is more than $50. If it is more than $50 I have to do multiple transactions. Because growing up, we never had more than $50 to spend on food. If the grocery bill was more than $50, my mom had to call my dad to ask if we could afford to pull money out of the utilities budget to pay for food.

If any one item in the cart is more than $10, I desperately try to find a cheaper alternative. Yesterday at the grocery store I nearly lost it on my fiance because they picked out a roast that cost $16. I had to walk away and splash water on my face in the bathroom to avoid breaking down in the middle of the meat aisle.

I’ve seen people talk about the physical effects of food insecurity, how it causes similar physical effects as famine. Even if where you live has an abundance of food, if you can’t afford it your body will end up in the same starvation mode that survivors of famine experience. You learn to function with a headache, sleep instead of eat. You get used to ignoring hunger pains, when your stomach growls audibly you blame it on indigestion. An inability to lose weight because your body is desperately holding onto those fat stores.

But I rarely see people talk about the emotional result of food insecurity. So I feel crazy when I start crying in the grocery store because milk went up by 10¢. I feel crazy when I eat nothing but ramen for a week because i had to buy $8 cat litter, and needed to make up for that cost in my savings. I feel crazy when I eat and eat and eat, because what if this is my last chance to eat this week. I feel crazy when I eat nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches for a week before I have friends or family over for a meal, so that I can afford to cook them good food. I feel crazy when I ask my fiance to go to the store so that o don’t have to see the cost of food, and then I feel crazy when I can’t eat because I’m worried if I eat all of their food, they won’t have any for themselves. I feel crazy when I go get fast food or pizza because I can’t make myself cook anything in the kitchen because what if it isn’t there later and I need food for tomorrow. I feel crazy when every time I’m asked where I want to eat I suggest cici’s pizza, because then I can eat enough that it won’t hurt for a couple of days if I don’t get to eat later, and it’s carbs, which is energy that takes a while for your body to process so it’ll be energy for tomorrow. I feel crazy when I shy away from any kind of salad because it just takes up room in your stomach that could be used for something with a higher caloric value.

Food insecurity makes me feel crazy. It isn’t just a physical issue, and it doesn’t go away just because food is more available. Not having access to enough food when I was I child has permanently altered my brain chemistry. It is a trauma. And it is not something I see taken seriously enough.

[queerprayers]

re: fasting

Fasting is a huge part of Lenten tradition and many people's practices, and I wanted to take a minute to address it. This post will address food restriction and eating disorders, so please be aware of your own triggers/comfort levels before reading.

"Without a purpose or plan, it's not Christian fasting; it's just going hungry." (John Piper)

"Prayer is reaching out after the unseen; fasting is letting go of all that is seen and temporal. Fasting helps express, deepen, confirm the resolution that we are ready to sacrifice anything, even ourselves to attain what we seek for the kingdom of God." (Andrew Murray)

I'm not going to include the whole history/theology of fasting. I'd encourage you to do your own research if this is an interesting topic to you! I just wanted to put some general thoughts out there.

Often people focus on food during Lent, for a few reasons. Eating is something we do regularly and it affects every aspect of our lives. We literally can't live without it. The absence of food can remind us of our own mortality, that we are nothing without the things God gives us. Fasting throughout Christian history has been a form of submission and letting go, of experiencing God in our wanting.

Many denominations have communal fasting guidelines, usually regarding what food items to give up for Lent. Christians often stay away from rich/dessert foods at the very least. For many, this is a simple way to mark the season, to save some joy for Easter.

I talked here about the exceptions that exist in fasting guidelines. They exist, and they're very important. I have never had an eating disorder, but the mental health issues I do experience have given me addictive habits and tendencies toward self-neglect. I don't fast beyond giving up a few small treats, and I don't think it would be safe for me to go further. If you're unsure, I'd encourage reaching out to a doctor/therapist or even a family member/friend to discuss what fasting means to you and whether it would be healthy.

I've talked about not giving in to the temptation to punish yourself. We cannot let ourselves believe that pain is the only place where God is, or that God desires our suffering, or that we are closer to God when we deny ourselves. Sometimes it feels that way, but both joy and pain hold God, both scarcity and abundance bring us to God. Feasting and fasting are both ways to experience God.

Lent is when we remember Jesus's forty days in the desert, in which he fasted. Fasting is part of Jewish traditions that he probably participated in, and part of his temptation was going hungry. This is true. For many, feasting is easy and natural, and fasting is vulnerable. This is where they experience God during Lent.

What is also true: God ate, joyfully and often! He miracled more wine at a wedding, he multiplied loaves and fishes, he was only recognized by some of his friends after the resurrection when he sat down for breakfast with them. And above all, he placed at the center of our faith, as one of his final commands, to remember him at the holy table. Of greatest importance was his last supper with his friends, a religious ritual and a communal act of love.

As you navigate your own relationship with food and with God, remember both these truths. And remember, we fast in Lent to feast in Easter. If feasting is what you struggle with, maybe make an Easter practice instead of a Lenten one! Or maybe create a Lenten practice of eating when you're hungry, of finding things you enjoy eating, of eating communally and lovingly.

I believe we should come to Easter hungry, for God and Life. And Lent is a great way to honor that hunger. Some people need that to be physical and literal, but it should be spiritual above all.

You know yourself. God knows you. You don't have to answer to anyone but God, which can be comforting and terrifying--let it be a comfort today. You don't have to explain yourself except to the one who already knows any explanation you could give.

<3 Johanna

[paganwitchisis]

The Unexpected Adventure Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Learning Experience

Word Count: 5,980

Rated: Explicit

RATED 18 PLUS!!!

Chapter 1 - here

Chapter 2 - you're here

Chapter 3 - here

AO3 link - here

Warnings: Smut, Smut and fluff, body swap, brief snippet of violence (fight), unknown pregnacy, protective and soft Astarion, blood (drinking)

WARNING SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER

Once inside, Astarion locked the door, and as different as it was, he leaned forward and kissed Tav who held her stomach and chest like she was injured. “I’m sorry. I know it’s jarring to wake up a corpse with eternal hunger. You're used to warmth and a heart that beats.”

“It’s certainly quite the adjustment. It’s a good thing I know your body so well, honey.” Tav attempted to find humor in the situation. “At least I’m in one handsome body.” Tav smiled awkwardly due to the fangs she was unused to.

“That you are. I didn’t realize how lucky you were until today. Gods, am I hot!” Astarion commented with a chuckle and light humor “But seriously, can I do anything to help, my dear?”

Tav readied herself to speak when the door was softly knocked upon. Scowling in Tav’s body (Which Tav thought gave her a hilarious face), Astarion got up and answered their door.

Surprisingly, it was Gale on the other side of the door.

“Ta…er…I mean Astarion, we may have a lead and we thought it would be best if you both were there.” Gale rationalized while looking away, unwilling to believe the circumstances the party was thrown into. It was no secret the wizard still desired Tav even with the obvious nature of Astarion and Tav’s relationship.

“How did you get a lead so soon? It isn’t like swapping bodies is a normal occurrence.” Astarion asked, annoyed. He’d much rather be attending to Tav than speaking to the wizard.

“Exactly. It isn’t normal, so when we spoke to the innkeeper downstairs, he pointed us towards another wizard in town. Apparently, they are here temporarily. Something about them attending because of another wizard named Lorroakan. You remember, the brat in the tower we killed who was after the Nightsong?”

“Obviously,” Astarion snapped. “So how can a wizard help us?”

“Astarion… It is only a lead. We won’t know much until we go to see them. They’re at the Rainforest Home when they aren’t at Sorcerous Sundries.” Gale informed Astarion who was frustrated until he felt an arm reach around his waist. Thankfully, Tav made noise as she walked, since she had yet to pick up on his stealth abilities, otherwise it would have startled the ex-vampire.

“This is so weird.” Tav commented on her embrace of her own body “Gale, we’d love to come with, but we are still… Acclimating. Give us a few hours, and we’ll join. It is still fairly early in the day, anyways.” Tav said in Astarion’s body. With that, Astarion closed the door on Gale’s face, not bothering to hear a reply.

“You know, we’ve got to work on your people skills.” Tav joked and made her way back to the bed. “I guess we need to get out of our armor, huh? Probably could do with a bath too, to be honest… I mean… Not saying you need it, honey, but… I mean, if you want to get one since it is your body, and…”

“Tav,” Astarion said as he then kissed himself to stop Tav from rambling. He thought it would be more difficult than this to show physical emotion when switching bodies, but it really wasn’t. Both of them were attractive people, in his opinion, and kissing her still felt right. “While we are…like this, my body is now yours, and I trust you with it. We’re both intimately familiar with each other, so it should be fairly easy for us to get used to certain… Aspects of this. Now, with the vampirism, I will need to help you. I’m sure drinking blood may be a little off-putting if we are like this for long, for example. Unfortunately, the pain will stay, and you will be hungry often, if not always. No matter how much blood you drink,… It… Can be a lot.”

“Is this what you normally feel?” Tav asked as she struggled to get his light armor off until Astarion came over and helped her, Tav repaying the kindness by helping him with her own armor on his new body.

“Do I usually feel hungry? My stomach clenching in pain because there is nothing I can eat or drink that can quell it for long? Yeah.” Astarion began to nervously chuckle “It was worse, actually, before the tadpole. The wriggling friend of ours seems to have diluted that, along with my strength, though. Regarding whether or not I feel cold, I grew numb to that about two or three decades in. It takes getting used to.”

Astarion could tell that Tav wasn’t too happy with his reply, but he merely told her the truth. It was nice for once, to not be in pain and to not feel death’s chilled hand upon your throat. Of course, that second part he wouldn’t tell her. He didn’t want her to act out of guilt, and he knew the cogs were working in her… Well, his head, as they spoke.

“Do I always smell so good? And everything is so loud! Is that my heartbeat?” Tav asked as she struggled with the vampiric condition.

Astarion chuckled. “Yeah, you do smell good, but what you’re smelling is blood. It’s going to take some time to get used to, but the enhanced hearing is something you acclimate to. You hear your heartbeat now, but imagine in the companion room. All those hearts, the blood flow, and I mean everything will be able to be picked up. You’ll know when someone is lying or when they are aroused.” Astarion smirked at the shocked expression Tav responded with.

“How do you do it?”

“Darling, I had two hundred years to get that under control. Don’t expect to be in control of the vampirism in a matter of hours.” Astarion hated that he had to have this conversation with Tav. He hated his condition was causing her pain or grief. He hated that she now knew the full extent of his plight and he worried that could change the dynamic of their relationship.

No.

Not Tav. Never Tav. She would always love and trust him no matter how insane the reason. That was one of the many reasons Astarion fell so completely for her.

“Astarion? You there?” Tav gently prodded with a hand on her body’s cheek. Touch usually guided him back if done the right way, Tav had learned early on. A hug or a gentle touch to a safer area usually helped him focus on the present.  

“Huh?… Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, dear, daydreaming for a moment.” Astarion wasn’t ready to show more of his vulnerability at the moment. Instead, he took her lips, or rather kissed his own, and tenderly pressed against her. Astarion had to pull away, considering they only had a few hours to get used to themselves before being thrown into another mission.

“Daydreaming? What about? This must be different for you, too.” Tav asked out of curiosity. 

 Astarion didn’t have to think long before he came up with a half-truth. He was always curious, and now he could finally act on it.

“Food. Gods, what I wouldn’t give for some strawberries.”

Tav smiled and took Astarion’s hand after grabbing Astarion’s daggers and attaching them back on the body she was borrowing. “let’s go fix that, shall we? Maybe a glass of wine will calm this stomach for a bit, too.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’re like a newborn vampire. Any amount of blood, regardless of the source, and you will…”

“How is it different than when we go out to get our situation sorted out? I can’t stay here the entire time, Star.” Tav rebutted as she cut him off. Astarion thought for a moment and shook his head.

“Fine, but only because I’m with you. I know the signs, and with our tadpoles, you can communicate with me if things become too hard without making it obvious.” Astarion sternly stated. He was looking forward to eating, but he would never put her in danger over something like this.

 The couple made their way downstairs, and thankfully found the establishment mostly empty. It was still early, so it was possible the lunch crowd had simply not descended on them yet. It was fortuitous since the scant noise in the tavern was already giving Tav a headache. All of the noise was worse than in the room, but Tav wouldn’t let it beat her. The couple sat down at the bar, and Astarion found himself overwhelmed with the options before him. When he couldn’t eat, it was much simpler. Now? He wanted to try everything, but he also wanted to respect Tav and her body. He was sure a stomach ache was not what he had in mind if he overindulged.

Seeing his plight, Tav placed her hand on Astarion’s thigh under the table at the bar and asked; “Do you want some suggestions?”

“Please.” Astarion requested while being oddly shy about the his current state of affairs.

“Innkeeper, can we please have these?” Tav pointed to the roast chicken and stew combo. Tav had a suspicion Astarion would love to have protein but she wasn’t done yet. “Oh! And this!” Tav pulled a napkin out and wrote on it instructions before sliding it to the innkeep. Astarion tried to peek, but his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. It was more dull than before, but then again his partner wasn’t an elf and the vampirism used to enhance his senses.

“You realize these are out of season?” The man replied to her paper instructions.

“Yeah, but I’ll pay well. Either I pay you a chunk of coin for them or I find someone who will.” Tav replied. The man seemed offended, but wasn’t going to pass up the chance to make more gold. He scoffed and left to get the original order, and when he placed it down, Tav handed him five hundred gold out of her money. She wasn’t about to dig in Astarion’s pockets and have him pay for her surprise. The man seemed pleased to hold the medium filled bag of gold and left them alone as he set on his task.

Meanwhile, Astarion could smell the food, and based off the pain in his stomach, he could guess Tav never ate breakfast. Of course, that isn’t because Astarion didn’t remind her, he was always trying to find ways to take care of his lover, and anything he could do, he would. He didn’t care if it was massaging her shoulders after a hard fight, or doing anything else to bring her comfort. ‘Her job was difficult enough’, he surmised, as she had to bring everyone together and make the hard decisions. At least in privacy, he could be the one to take care of her. Astarion took a tentative bite as Tav watched of his chicken. Astarion felt like there was an explosion of flavor in his mouth, which was of stark contrast to the ash he would taste while still a vampire. Tav, meanwhile, ordered wine from the bartender as the innkeeper was still not back. It made Astarion wonder what she wrote down, however his thoughts and his focus was zeroed in on the food he was consuming. Every bite was something new. Astarion knew he was going to miss this when he returned to his body, but damn, did the reprieve feel great. To be warm, to have a heartbeat, and to live for the first time in centuries was a blessing. It just was unfortunate his lover had to experience the opposite of his situation.

“I..well, technically you, have a full bladder.” Tav whispered as she put the glass of wine down. “Anything I should know before I go take care of this?” Tav was normally very proud and headstrong and yet in this, she was coy. This made Astarion smirk.

“You know my body almost as well as I do, my love.” Astarion chuckled “Just aim and shoot. Well… That, and don’t shake it too much after you’re done. You don’t want an erection… At least not when I can’t help you with it.” Astarion was smiling now at the thought of what they could do with these delicious new bodies, but of course, that thought would have to wait. Maybe if they got the chance later, they could indulge. After all, they were both beautiful people. Right now, however, Tav was fidgeting in her seat, and Astarion couldn’t pull himself away from the food if he tried.

Tav kissed Astarion on the forehead and politely excused herself to use the bathroom, while Astarion ate his fill. After about five minutes or so, Tav returned with a contemplative look on her face. Astarion could feel his smirk grow as he waited for her to sit down.

“So… How did it go?” Astarion teased

“I’m jealous. It is so easy for men to pee compared to being a woman.”  Tav huffed out while Astarion couldn’t help his full belly laugh.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out if the day drags too far on, then.” Astarion shook his head hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with more complex natural bodily urges. If Tav got her cycle, or worse, had to use… The facilities, in another regard, he would be lost on what to do since he doesn’t remember being in a body that consumed food, nor was he proficient in what she needed to do during her monthly visitor.

While Astarion ate and Tav drank her wine slowly, Astarion was aware of a small petite woman coming their direction from the open door of the Elfsong. Of course Astarion never met this woman but was taken aback by this determined face she wore. Tav, as per usual, was oblivious. Astarion kept an eye on her as he ate and saw she was staring at his body.

‘Great. Another one of those.’ Astarion thought to himself as he thought of the men and women who he could seduce without moving a muscle. He just didn’t realize until that day how handsome he was to see why he was so sought after in taverns and pubs they visited. Astarion would tell them off, but never really needed to once he and Tav got serious. He would just show some public display of affection and they would look away. Astarion thought that would be enough to protect Tav from this woman, but he soon found he was wrong.

Tav was a little surprised to feel Astarion place a hand on her thigh, and in between eating, he leaned over and kissed her deeply. Of course, Tav wasn’t aware of the woman who watched them, but noticed something was up with her lover.

“You okay?” Tav asked and placed a hand on his cheek as she was a little worried. Instead of a reply from her loverm the sound of someone’s throat being cleared became apparent.

Tav looked away one moment and looked at the person in question. The person was close… Too close. The woman was within Tav’s personal space and caging Tav against the bar even which made Tav frown. Who did they think they were? Tav saw that this woman looked very attractive. She had long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a thin figure. She held curves where she needed them, and larger breasts than Tav normally had. She was slightly tan, a high elf in full makeup and obviously she was aiming to get something out of Tav, but Tav couldn’t figure out what. This was until the woman spoke and Tav remembered that everyone saw her as Astarion.

“Hey handsome, what brings you here?”

Tav was surprised for a moment until Astarion cut in.

“If you don’t mind, this is a private conversation.” Astarion hissed out while not looking too ferocious as he was in Tav’s body. The woman ignored Astarion and turned her back to Astarion, still caging Tav in against the bar.

“It’s a bit noisy here. Why don’t we grab a booth somewhere a little more… Secluded? Leave this tart, and we can see what I have to offer…”

Tav put her hands up in an effort to have something between her and this random woman, but her anger festered under the facade.

“This ‘tart’ as you put it, is more important to me than you’ll ever know. You can’t offer anything that I don’t already have with her,” Tav caught herself to make sure she was using the right pronoun. “Now go fuck off, you hussy.” Tav snapped at the woman. Tav was not in the mood to deal with this situation. She was hungry, she was cold, and she didn’t want to have to kill a woman for coming onto her significant other. Tav felt honored that Astarion trusted her to protect and take care of his body, and she would be damned if she would betray that trust.

Astarion smirked at Tav’s shutdown of the situation and her words. It made him feel warm and seen to be with Tav, and he wasn’t referring to her body heat. When Tav declared her love publicly, it never failed to make him feel safe and cared for with her. Of course, these feelings were all new to him and he only just started accepting them, but he knew he always felt complete with Tav… No matter what body she was currently inhabiting.

“Ass! You don’t have to be a jerk!” The woman snapped but Tav just laughed. Unfortunately, that may have been the wrong thing to do, as it flashed Astarion’s fangs briefly, something the woman noticed.

“I… I’m going to go over there….I….I’m sorry bout the mix up” the woman stuttered and backed up slowly. Astarion noticed immediately why there was the sudden change in demeanor.

“Shit.” Astarion got up to handle the situation when a large red tiefling woman grabbed the scuff of her clothing and hoisted the belligerent woman in the air.

“Oi! I’ve been watching you. You give my friends any grief, and I’ll make sure the Fists can’t find any of your parts left.” The woman was shaking her head ‘no’, and squeaking out how she would tell no one and she was just mistaken.

With that, Karlach tossed the woman aside who ran promptly away. Astarion sighed in relief as Karlach joined them.

“I hope the bimbo wasn’t a problem. Kind of hard to miss, actually. Figured you’d both welcome some help,” Karlach mentioned before adding on “Had to do that bit a lot as a bodyguard in the Hells and even the bastard who sold me. I’d much rather help you both out, though. You both okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Astarion? Are you alright?” Tav answered while eyeing the entrance suspiciously.

“Yeah… It’s just jarring.”

“Thank you, Karlach, for the help.” Tav said in Astarion’s body and voice. It was very off putting to hear Astarion say thank you even if it was technically Tav saying it. Karlach just laughed and replied.

“Anything for you, Soldier...or should I say Fangs?” Karlach continued to laugh as she walked away.

Tav was going to speak to Astarion when the man she spoke to earlier returned.

“Hello, sir. I have what you asked for.” The man sighed and held out in his hand a square box. Tav took the box and thanked the man before grabbing Astarion’s hand and retreating back to their room. Astarion was confused but followed his lover all the same. Astarion smiled as he held her hand...or rather his own, but it was nice to share such a moment with the person he cared for.

Tav locked the door behind them and excitedly smiled at Astarion.

“I have a gift for you!”

“I saw. Five hundred gold, too. What did you buy?” Astarion asked curiously.

Tav grinned more, the smile reaching her eyes as she handed the box over to Astarion.  Astarion tentatively took the box and opened it to be hit with a sweet aroma. It was a fruity and sweet smell that Astarion felt like he smelt before. Long ago before he became a vampire. Astarion looked down and saw triangular shaped red fruit with a leaf at the base end.

They were strawberries.

Astarion could feel himself salivate at the thought and the smell of the confection. Astarion wasted no time bringing the red part of the fruit to his lips and taking a bite. It was beyond anything he had ever tasted before. If he thought the stew and chicken were good, then strawberries were divine. Astarion moaned and sat on the bed with his eyes closed. Astarion slowly chewed the food, enticing every drop of liquid to be expelled from the fruit before he swallowed.

“This is better than sex…” Astarion eventually blurted out after eating half the box of fruit.

“Better than sex? I guess I have to remind you how good that feels… If you want to, of course.” Tav attempted to be seductive, but one laugh from Astarion and she knew it wasn’t that great of acting in the new body. Tav began to laugh, too, but Astarion put the box down to the side and kissed her.

“Darling, I am very eager to see what that would be like, but first, you need to eat.” Astarion smirked and crawled on the bed a little to nestle between her legs. Astarion tossed Tav’s hair to the side and bared his neck. Tav couldn’t help her hunger as her mouth seemed to froth and foam at the mouth with saliva. She was already passively in pain due to her hunger, but if it could be abated, she would find that very welcoming.

“I can’t… I don’t know how much to take! I may kill you!”

“It’s sweet of you to be concerned, but I can get your attention. Worst case? I have my dagger on me and can do something superficial. I would like to think you won’t force me to use that option, my dear.”

“How… ow do I…?” Tav was confused but Astarion guided his body and head to the correct place on her neck and lowered her head.

“Open up and just swallow. When I get your attention, you just have to lick the wound to close it. Now, push down, my love, and enjoy.” Astarion mentioned as he braced himself for the pain of being bitten, but the pain was substantially less that what he remembered Cazador’s fangs were like. Tav punctured his flesh with a slight pop, her moan hitting his ears a moment later. Tav was given a moment or two before Astarion tapped on her shoulder and she pulled away, remembering to lick the wound first.

“Gods, you taste so fucking good. That was so sweet, rich, creamy and smooth, like a well aged wine or chocolate.”

“You did good, pulling away when I said to. Most newborns don’t have the strength to do that.” Astarion praised Tav, who seemed proud of that fact. “And about the blood? Do you see why I love drinking from you?” Astarion chuckled.

“I also have a problem. This is… Well… Awkward.” Tav would have blushed if she could as she gazed down and looked at the first hard-on she had in his body. “I feel like I need you. I really need you.”

Astarion smirked. “I suspected this would happen. Normally I’d take care of it on my own… Well, until we killed him. Since my rebirth, we’ve been at it like rabbits, so I never needed to hide my erection from you, not that you would have had an issue before our trip to the graveyard. I just wasn’t ready then, but now?” Astarion referred to Cazador like a vile poison he wanted to spit out of his mouth. “Let me help you get undressed.”

Astarion began unlacing Tav’s trousers, but he didn’t have the dexterity that he was used to and grew more and more frustrated at his inability to unlace her pants. Tav had to help him in the end as he was about to take a dagger to the laces.

“You need to relieve this.” Astarion huskily murmured as he was able to shimmy Tav out of the trousers and her underwear. Her cock jutted proudly at attention, a bead of Tav’s natural lubrication sat on the tip.

“Isn’t this masturbation?” Tav asked sarcastically.

Astarion laughed and replied. “Maybe, darling, but we both need to have clear heads to solve this issue,” Astarion replies “Plus, I’ve been dying to find out what these bodies feel like to have pleasure in. To know what these feel like.” Astarion fondled his own chest earning a low moan. “They’re so sensitive.”

“Let me help, then.” Tav began to undo Astarion’s pants while Astarion pulled at her shirt. Once the laces were free, Tav sat up and tossed her shirt to the side, pulling Astarion’s trousers down to his ankles. Meanwhile, Astarion had stripped his shirt, but was struggling with the bra until Tav came to his rescue yet again.

“I don’t get it. I am dexterous! This shouldn’t happen!”

“Maybe your body is dexterous, but mine is not. My body is built for a fighter build, honey.” Tav mentioned before taking his lips. Astarion kicked his pants and underwear off as they partook in each other. Astarion moaned when he tasted the blood on her lips, the taste was different than he remembered, but that didn’t matter to him. Tav took things a step further and deepened the kiss. They may have their bodies switched, but to Astarion and Tav? They didn’t feel like they changed bodies while they kissed each other. Everything felt normal, natural, and oh so delicious. Tav pulled back, and lightly nudged Astarion, asking him to lay down. Astarion couldn’t help how wet he was getting. Just the thought of what they would be doing made him want to clench his legs in an attempt to find relief for the deep ache inside of him. It was a surreal feeling, but one that Astarion understood well. It was desire. Astarion laid down and watched as Tav, using his body, crawled over him and took his lips again. Astarion could feel the erection against his thigh, as he instinctively thrust his hips towards Tav in an effort to find some kind of relief to the need he had, any kind of relief. Tav chuckled and began to kiss his jaw, his neck and his collarbone. She quickly made her way to his breasts and she took her tongue, giving his nipple a flick with the tip of the appendage. Tav clamped her lips over the nipple and swirled her tongue around the areola and nipple, earning a loud moan from Astarion. Astarion pushed his chest against her to get as close as possible to the pleasure she was giving him.

Tav spent a few more minutes lavishing attention on his rose bud before switching to the other. Astarion was very vocal as Tav massaged the breasts, licked and sucked on them and drove him mad with want.

“Please! Stop teasing me.” Astarion begged. Tav pulled back and smirked, then without kissing her way south, Tav skipped kissing Astarion’s stomach (or rather it was her stomach) and sank to the junction of Astarion’s thighs. Tav spread Astarion’s leg’s further and pulled the labia apart. Astarion swallowed hard, scared and excited in equal measure. Tav took a long lick up the center, from cleft to clit.

Astarion’s stomach clenched, pulling Astarion’s upper half off the bed slightly and momentarily.

“FUCK!” Astarion cursed, lowering his hand to the back of Tav’s head to encourage her to continue. Tav licked her lips and noted how although she tasted different, she was still sweet, and so Tav dove back in. Tav knew her body well so when she began her onslaught, she had to hold his body down on the bed. Tav began to twist her tongue and lap at the hidden pearl at the top of the vagina, sucking and varying the kind of licks and pressure on the clitoris. Astarion was loud, which was unheard of for the vampire. He usually was so well composed and so good at doing so. When Tav thought Astarion was building towards his crest, Tav slipped two fingers inside of Astarion whose legs trembled.

“I’m so close. Gods, this is unreal! This is so. Fucking. Good!” Astarion enunciated the last few words separately as he focused on his breathing. Tav curled her fingers looking for the small patch of flesh that was rougher to the touch and brushed against it several times.

This unraveled Astarion who screamed out Tav’s name in orgasm.

Tav could feel the contracting muscles, the throb and pulling inside where her finger sat. Tav helped Astarion ride out the climax, and when she went to pull away, Astarion grabbed her wrist. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was inside of him just a moment ago and licked up the contents on her fingers.

“You still taste divine, my sweet. That felt so good. Now it’s your turn, lay on your back.”

Tav was going to argue back, but Astarion had already sat up and was crawling to his prize.

“You’re in for a treat, darling, I know how to suck cock well, and especially my own? This will be different, but I am sure I can make you come faster than you made me.”

“It’s a competition now, is it?” Tav joked.

“Never. I want you to thoroughly enjoy my lips and tongue on your new cock.” Astarion huskily said as his mouth now hovered over her engorged mast. Tav could feel his hot breath hit her new penis and she desperately wanted to thrust.  Astarion wasted no time and took her cock into his mouth, his hand holding her hips down just like she did with him, so she couldn’t thrust yet. Astarion ran his tongue up the bottom vein and twirled his tongue over the head of the length. It was Tav’s turn to be vocal as the sensation overwhelmed her. Astarion was right, because he was proficient, she was in nirvana and didn’t doubt she would come sooner than him. Tav tried to thrust and chase the release when Astarion pulled back to mutter.

My love, I want you to enjoy, not just come. Plus, you’re in for a treat.” Astarion took one long lick of her manhood. “The woman I love comes at least twice. We’re going to do a little testing and see how many I can squeeze out of you.”

“By the gods, you feel great. Please, let me come! I’d love to keep feeling this, but I really need release!”

“We just had sex maybe a day or two ago, don’t tell me you need so soon?”

“It’s you. I’ll always need you.”

“Grab my hair and thrust. I can take it.” Astarion said with a grin as he took his lover’s cock into his mouth once again. Astarion hollowed out his cheeks and sucks and moaned as he gave oral to his lover. Tav couldn’t wait anymore and lightly held his hair before she began thrusting into his oral cavity. His mouth was so slick, so hot and divine, that Tav wanted to stay doing this but the coil in her lower belly told her how close she was.

“I’m gonna…”

Tav couldn’t finish her sentence as Astarion used both his hands to pull Tav’s ass closer to his mouth, taking her all in and gave everything he had. She saw stars. She thought it was a myth, but this experience proved otherwise. Tav yelled out Astarion’s name, clenched her stomach as she partly sat up while she unloaded her load down her lover’s throat. Astarion just moaned as he drank his own sperm in. He noted how sour he tasted and wondered why Tav would like drinking his spend so much, however soon enough, Tav pulled away and left Astarion curious.

“You drink me when I taste like that? I mean, it makes sense why you’re so delectable, but why swallow me, my sweet?”

Tav looked him in the eyes and smiled. “I drink you down regardless of taste, because I love you. I want you to feel good, and honestly? You don’t taste that bad.”

Astarion looked at her quizzically, but noted she still sported a hard on. Astarion began to languidly stroke her mast while Tav would moan until Tav stopped him.

“Do you want to continue?”

“My dear, I am giddy from excitement. I want this. We need this, and gods, when will we get another chance to make love while in each other’s bodies?”

Tav crawled above Astarion at this point, as Astarion spread his legs around Tav’s hips and helped Tav line up her new cock.

“Now I should be prepared but you’ll want to slide in slowly. Especially because I haven’t been fucked as a woman before.” Astarion chuckled. Tav began to push in and almost doubled over her lover, the tight hot heat put Astarion’s mouth to shame. As she continued to push in, Astarion kissed Tav so as to muffle her moans. She was struggling not to spill her load so soon, and wondered how Astarion did it. Tav thought her new cock wouldn’t be as sensitive as her clit, but by the gods, was she wrong. Eventually, she was fully sheathed and waited for Astarion’s signal to proceed.

“Darling, this feels incredible. No wonder you ask for my cock so much! You can move. It’s like a deep ache inside me that goes away and feels so good, like burning electricity when you strike those walls.”

Tav began to move but was soon stopped.

“No, no, dear. You don’t simply pull out and shove in. Roll the hips.” Tav followed the instructions. “There you go. Doesn’t that feel better? It saves your back, feels better for both of us, and this way, you won’t fall out when you pull back.” Tav grew embarrassed at the last part as when they began coupling, she did, in fact, fall out for a moment. She didn’t know how far to pull back, as she wasn’t used to the appendage, but Hells, was he right. Everything felt better, tighter and more sensual as she rolled her hips into him. Tav kissed Astarion some more but deepened the kiss. She ran her tongue everywhere she could find. Astarion moaned and began to thrust back, his legs now tight against her hips and circled around her backside. The only sounds in the room were blissful moans, reliving sighs and cries of each other as skin slapped in rhythm of each other.

Tav began to speed the pace up, feeling the desire within her warn her that she wouldn’t last much longer, but she didn’t want to be the only one to come. Tav pulled Astarion's leg off her side and held it up as she rolled her hips. She angled herself deep and to the side slightly, which soon enough, pushed Astarion over the edge with a cry of her name. The contracting muscles and the throb from inside was too much and Tav soon followed afterwards. She emptied herself of her spend inside of Astarion, (or rather her own body). She didn’t care, he was undead, so the chance of pregnancy was astronomically low. Tav slumped forward as she caught her breath (although, as an undead, she didn’t have to) and was held gently by Astarion.

“Want to go again?”

[moremysteriesthantragedies]

I am curious about your general advice when it comes to writing asexual characters as an asexual yourself. 😊 /gen

Oh boy. I am going to try to keep this brief, but I could go on for hours about this subject. It's still long though (just not as long as it could be). so I'll put it under the cut.

Here is a list of things a lot of people assume makes a character asexual that just don't:

*Being aro/Uninterested in romance

*Being celibate

Having no interest in sex or sensual things for whatever reason.

Hating sex or sensual things for whatever reason.

*Notes: Someone can be aroace, but romantic orientation and sexual orientation are different. All romantic orientations or sexualities can also be uninterested in romance for their own reasons.

I would recommend avoiding language like "asexual lifestyle" when you mean celibate. It's offensive for the same reasons the phrase "gay lifestyle" is. It's assuming people of an entire sexuality all live the same type of life and shows what little one knows about the sexuality.

These can be traits of an asexual person, but these are all romantic orientations, personality quirks, or life decisions that don't make someone asexual. The only thing asexual means is that a person does not feel sexual attraction to others (though keep in mind asexuality is a spectrum). Sexual attraction and drive are separate, and how an asexual deals with this drive or lack thereof can vary from asexual to asexual.

Let me try to explain this in a way that allosexuals (anyone who experiences sexual attraction) can potentially understand: Your hunger (drive) and what you want to eat (sexual attraction) are two different things entirely. Asexuals can be offered a whole platter without any of the food looking that appealing. It may look pretty, but an asexual isn't going to be frothing at the mouth to consume it. Yet, some asexuals still get hungry, and food tastes good, so some asexuals will want to eat just to fulfill that hunger or because it tastes good. Asexuals are of course aware of food and they may have thoughts/fantasies about food because it satisfies this hunger or because it tastes good. Whether an asexual wants to eat alone or with others if this does interest them is entirely up to them and can depend from case to case (for some having dinner guests is fun! For others it is a royal pain).

Keeping this in mind, I would recommend people avoid the trap of treating some representation as better than other representation. Asexual characters that have their own personal interest in sex, asexual characters that have no interest in sex but may show interest/participate in some sensual activities, asexual characters that have no interest in either, and asexual characters that are repulsed by either are all valid.

I just don't agree with the idea that "sexually interested asexuals are not good representation" because there are real asexuals who have this experience and deserve to have representation as well. I think the main thing to remember is that asexuals can have a very different relationship with sensuality than those who feel sexual attraction. Aka avoid writing an asexual character that is basically just another allosexual with a few quirks.

It is so important to keep in mind that labels like "demisexual", for instance, are not just "allosexual light" . Demisexuals only feel sexual attraction after they feel a deep connection to someone. If you have a demisexual character being sexually attracted to complete strangers, then you're not actually writing an asexual character. If you have a demisexual who is called that because they're only interested in sex for specific, personal reasons not connected to their sexual attraction, you are not writing an asexual character. I will admit I don't know much about gray asexuals, but, from what I do know, it is often a title used by those who experience sexual attraction differently from allosexual individuals, so keep that in mind as well.

The way they experience sexual attraction is still different from allosexuals. Don't write an asexual as an allosexual making a personal choice. For instance, a character who is actively choosing not to have sex until they know someone better is not demisexual, demisexual individuals do not feel sexual attraction until they feel close to someone. A character that abstains from sex is not asexual, abstaining from sex is a personal choice not all asexuals make.

Here are some things to avoid when writing sensually interested asexuals:

I am just asexual myself, meaning I have no sexual attraction to others ever. I also only ever participate in sensual things for emotional connection reasons. This list pertains to this POV, as I am more experienced with that type of asexuality and treatment of sensuality in this context.

*Asexual characters suddenly having sexual attraction: In and out of the sheets, a character is still asexual. It is not a flip we switch to participate in these things, and sex does not "fix" our asexual state (we aren't broken to begin with). It doesn't mean we don't find our partners gorgeous though, it is important to separate aesthetic attraction from sexual attraction. Aesthetic attraction also does not go away during sexual activities.

Asexuals having no experience just because they are asexual: It will depend on their previous interest in the subject/opportunities in that department. Totally fine to make an unexperienced asexual character, just don't assume them being asexual means they have no experience.

Asexuals being apathic to sensual stimulation: We still have physical bodies that can feel pleasure. We still find sexual thoughts and scenarios stimulating. Us not being sexually attracted to the individuals involved does not mean sensual things stop being sensual. And yes, when someone we care about does any of these things, it is definitely stimulating.

Asexuals can't be "freaky": Asexual individuals with drives can have kinks just like everyone else. We too have sexual preferences and things we're really into, and they're not always "vanilla".

Notes: Let me put aesthetic attraction this way. You don't want to screw a painting because it's pretty. But, if you're feeling a certain way, you might imagine/bring that painting into that context. The painting still isn't sexual, but it can still be fun getting intimate with something that is pretty or that potentially has emotional value to you. (Don't take this too literarily).

Here are some general stereotypes I'd like to see less of:

They're so cute and innocent: Asexuals know what sex is. Again, some may not be well versed in it while others are very well versed. Even if they aren't well versed in it, that doesn't mean they have a "cute" and "innocent" personality. Asexuals are not children (unless the character literally is a child lol).

Prude to the max: Some may be uncomfortable with the topic of sex, but that doesn't mean they are just being "overly sensitive" nor does that mean they are rude about it. There are also plenty of asexuals that are very vulgar, some for humorous reasons and others due to simply being comfortable with the topic.

The cold/heartless asexual: I wrote a post about this once, but I'll repeat my point. Assuming the only reason someone can't feel sexual attraction is because they're "closed off" not only paints a lack of sexual attraction in a negative/unhealthy light but treats asexuality as a choice only "mean" people make. Totally okay to have a cold asexual character but, as I keep repeating, separate motives from sexuality, they are not the same thing.

They're just repressed: Asexuality is not "repression". Asexual individuals can be repressed in some ways just like everyone, but it's important to walk the line between repression versus lack of attraction and/or disinterest. They're not the same thing.

Remember, sexualities do not come with set personalities.

[iamgrape]

Gluttonous Love♡lust 6

Niki being Niki.

Previous || CH 6 || Next

➴.

"...(◕દ◕)" You look at Niki for a moment who seems to be a deep thoughts while he take a bite of his meal.

" You won't question why I'm asleep for almost the whole day?" You always wonder why Niki don't question you, or your odd habbit.

" Hmm? I don't think I should prey into your affairs." He already know why to begin with. He wonder what made you start such topic.

" Your not curious?" You pout. You wonder if Niki is being a dummy or your being a dummy of putting your self in a risk if you suddenly expose yourself. But living with him under a year made you felt bad for not telling him anything.

"Don't you know curiosity kills the cat, master?" He stared at you (color) eyes. "But if you want, you could always tells me."

"... I..." You gaze at Niki beautiful blue eyes, having a long eye contact. "You won't hate me?" Your voice almost sound mick.

" Why would I hate my master?"

" What if... What if... I'm not human...(◕દ◕; )" you nervously look at your hands in your lap, fidgeting and afraid what's his reaction is.

" Hmm? My master is not human~? Ahaha~" Niki chuckle as he realize it seems that you wanna confess your identity to him.

maybe if he don't snoop around in your defenseless form when sleeping, he will know the truth from you with you willing tell him. After all his master often the type that would feel guilty about something through their himedere/oresama facade.

"That's fine. I don't mind if your not human. After all. I'm not human either~" he stared into your eyes, when you finally look up to him with a nervous face. He watch as your face brighten when you heard his reply but still nervous about something.

"...(◕દ◕; ) w-will... That's good.. ahaha... B-but what if ... Hypnotically speaking ok? You find out i-im not send by that f-friend of yours... Ahmmm....." You were in verge of tearing up. Shaking like a hopeless prey that cannot stop their death, to be cooked.

"N-niki...??? A-are you mad...??(◕દ◕;; )". You saw how his eyes being scary, his eyeing you as if his gonna eat you alive, sound kinky but he probably mean literally. You can't help but felt chill.

"Are you... Are you... Gonna hate mmmmeee....?*hic..." Tears start to fall from your eyes as you realize he probably will hate you. No, his gonna hate you and eats you.

NIKI STOP IT!

he snap his own thoughts by his own nails digging into his tight, the pain snap him out of his deranged thoughts And the sight of you looking at him oddly.

It was so weird to be stared like a beast by you... Why would you look at him like that? No. Your looking at him in worry of something else...! You won't look at him like his sort of a monster right...?

" Ah? Sorry about t-that...ahaha..." Niki give a apologetic smile. His aura of a predator slip away as he close his eyes. "Please don't cry." He stood up from his seat as you start to sob and rock yourself in your chair. Like a little kid.

"Shhh... I won't hate you.." he softly wipes your tears away. "Please don't cry. It's ok." He cooed as he carried you in his arms and start to hummed a tone as he tried to calm you down but you continue to weep while leeching onto him.

"Huhu. You will! I'm a bad and a liar! Im bad!" Maybe the fact you haven't feed well enough for a lust demon, made you experience emotional moment like, a sign that you becoming far too weak. Maybe you'll be awake less than you did yesterday.

"Shh... It's ok, it's really ok." Niki felt hopeless as he cannot stop your tears drenching him. He felt bad, yet he don't quite understand your acting right now.

"..." You suddenly pause. You stopped crying or shaking.

"MC?" He was worried what's up with you now. He felt hungry when he realize the situation is very complicated and the fact your very close to him with the alluring delicious scent of yours made him even more in a dare situation but his use to control his hunger to some extreme intent.

"...here have an arm." You suddenly said, you thought about it. Niki probably too nice to you, maybe his just saying that cause your a pitiful demon his taking care off. You remember his a gluttony, your a lust demon. You probably taste delicious. Literally.

"Huh? " Now he doesn't understand whats going on your mind now, as you pout while shove your arm into his mouth. "Hey-hmm..." "He can't even say anything when your being pushy at it again.

"I won't die. A bite won't hurt... I t-think.(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ so here have a bite. Master is a bad master..." You really want to repay Niki and apologize to Niki.

"Master is willing to feed my servant with my delicious flesh." You actually not sure if it's going to hurt bad or not but for sure. You'll heal right away.

"..." His blue eyes stared directly in your eyes, scanning your emotions and looking deep into your soul. Trying to see what's wrong with your head right now. But as your soft and aromatic flesh is right beside his mouth.

He can't help but gulp. His eyes suddenly darken as he look at your eyes for one last time which you nodded tearfully, more so fearing it would hurt than his taking a meat off you.

"What if... I get addicted to it?" He mumble as he slowly open his mouth his to tongue want to lick yet he stopped himself, wanting to take a bite yet he don't, he continue to have an eye contact with you, daring you to blink so he would stop this stupid charades you did out of being emotional.

"I-i... I don't think I'll die... I mean... Lust demon won't die being eaten... That's just being another category of p-preference..." You gulp as you felt your throat dry up by how seggsy his starring at you.

"..." You push your hand to his mouth more. Pouting why his not eating yet. " Servant you don't think I'm delicious enough to eat? (｡•́3•̀｡)?" You pout, not knowing what to offer Niki for being too nice to you.

His so nice to you. Offering a bite or two is something you can offer as you don't get a job either for the pass year. You lived a free loader who only know how to sleep, watch cartoon, wat and hug Niki before sleeping again.

"Ahaha~dont worry, master smell really nice~" he shook his head at your words. He chuckle a bit as he give you a soft smile. "Do you know...I use to have people come and go in my life. I have bad tendency. Even if I get close to a human, it would just me a spider and web of lies to eat my prey." Niki put down your hand as he wipe the remaining tears in your face and fix your messy face from crying too much.

"I was worried for a moment you know? When you come into my house. I usually won't try to eat unwilling victims because they have much life to give... The fact I thought Rinne is behind your appearance made me stop the urges as you probably come into my life because of order of the higher up, I cannot disobey the higher up or I'll be hungry without them paying me..." He was an underdog to people who offer him money to buy food or the chance to get a meal without his conscious and guilt getting the best out of him if he take a random victim.

He look at you who he been taking care and feeding since last year. He don't have enough for one but seeing you happily eat his meal makes him happy, someone who enjoyed his cooking.

His company. You won't look at him like his an outcast. Oh his precious master... ~ wouldn't do that right ?

Maybe they'd why he don't continue eliminating you out of his life when he knows your secret months ago. He grown attach to you.

No... it's not maybe. It is the reason. His precious master... So hopeless and delicious...

"But I wanted to eat you... After all, Your so delicious, your scent is driving me mad....~" he circle his arms around your waist, his head leaning and resting on your right shoulder blade his right hand reach up to your shoulder blade to trace his nails in a straight line.

"Awwwhmm...."You felt something sharp against your fresh and whimper in pain as his nails pierce through your flesh

"You taste very Divine..."he give a soft kiss as he lick the blood from the wound he made. He can't help but sigh in relief as he felt his hunger being erase but...

"MC..." He felt strange but he expected such effect. He don't know your that too clueless what you wanted to offer him, the consequences of you, offer of your flesh as a Lust demon to a gluttony.

"Should I feed you properly too?" His blue eyes that slowly enveloped by lust. A soft smile on his face as he look at his pitiful master who unable to feed properly for along time.

Oh master of mine... What would you do without me~?

"Hmm?" You hummed not able to see his gaze as he tilt your head upright and slowly lean in to give you a passionate kiss...

[zorkaya-moved]

@maquiscursed asked:

❝ there are two sorts of people. the players and the pieces. ❞ (from al-haitham)

Oh darling Scribe comes to confess—the roles of the game seem to profess the future's tango and its endless recess upon the ending of this game's last guess. The theater runs through her veins, entertainment wishes to launch itself into her embrace while she smiles so benevolently at those who gives her just exactly what she wants, needs, and desires.

However, Al-Haitham is not someone who she wants to give her anything aside from a short and sweet company. They're both too similar and too different. If not for the need to indulge and entertain, she's sure she'd find herself not wanting to make the outside world much of her trouble. As long as there's knowledge to gain, food to eat, money to spend, and a roof above one's head? Sometimes, even the sky can make a roof above one's head. When it's not raining, of course.

It's obvious to her that Al-Haitham does not see himself as a mere 'piece.' A piece means he's controlled, forced to do what he doesn't want to. It's a play by other's rules, it's a step back and a step forward upon another's beck and call. No way the Scribe will listen to anyone but himself... and perhaps the Dendro Archon. There's power in him, but he lacks ambition. He lacks ambition and the drive to do whatever he needs to so he could get what he wants. It seems like he already has everything, settled and comfortable where he is.

It must be nice.

It must be nice not to want more, not to become hungry, and not to be ambitious and not to strive forward. It must be nice to always be warm, to always feel something, and to be satisfied. It must be nice not to feel the hunger and possessiveness she experiences once in a while.

"Pfft, obviously," she rolls her eyes at him playfully, leaning back against the chair and shrugging the words off. Her shoulders drop, posture remaining laid-back and just a bit slouched as if she'll fall asleep on this comfortable chair. The pillow she sits on feels nice. Quite comfortable! Must be why the Scribe isn't suffering from Pain In The Ass Syndrome. Well, not in a physical way as some would like her to underline. "I mean, there are those who play the game and those who just don't. You're a player, you've got your own set of rules you like to follow. It comes with having control over your life, I guess. Or would you disagree?"

It's even funnier how he says that to her. She enjoys how he brings this example into their conversation because it's natural to see the Sages as 'players' as well, but little do people know of her interest in experimentation and wish to see how far humanity can go on. How nice it must be for Al-Haitham to have morality that doesn't stop him from wishing to see chaos. However, Sokolova Zarina is a woman of ambition. Pure, unfiltered ambition.

You're correct, Al-Haitham, there are players and pieces. And right now, all of you've been playing according to my expectations for years. I just wonder when you'll evolve far enough to find out the truth.

"I can't imagine you being a piece. It'd mean you'll be up on and about doing all the tasks you hate," the woman reaches out to one of the candies she brought here for some sugar to her tea. "You know, like talking to people more often and stay in your office past your assigned hours." There's slyness to her smile as she holds back a chuckle.

It's all warm mirth from her today, not letting the Scribe sit in silence during their short break away from their project.