#so much grace... so much beauty... so much power in each push and turn and--

[greengoblinswifey]

Transactional—Hwang In Ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader

summary— The Front Man offers you freedom in exchange for something you hadn’t expected and your decision leads to something you had no idea would happen. Based on this request.

warnings— usual squid game shenanigans, power imbalance, slight coercion, degradation, face fucking, strip tease, cunnilingus, degradation, ass slapping, hair pulling, praise kink, unprotected sex, cock warming, creampie, pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n— I see you guys’ requests, patience🫶🏽more soon.

The Front Man slowly sipped his expensive whiskey, eyes focused on the monitors as he watched the Squid Games unfold.

Some would call him sick but he quite enjoyed watching the desperation and suffering of the players. It fueled him and he looked forward to new games everyday.

He chuckled at the stupidity of the players when majority opted for ‘one more game’ instead of just going home with the money they had accumulated. Their stupidity, his entertainment.

As he scanned them each walking up to push the X or O button, his eyes landed upon you. For a moment, his breath caught as he stared. You were ethereal, the most beautiful woman that had ever graced his eyes.

Now, he wasn’t even focused on Gi-hun anymore. His focus was on you. You infiltrated his mind and he needed to save you from the game before something terrible happened. Though, it wasn’t just his need to be your savior that fueled him. He was pent up—unable to remember the last time he stuck his dick in a pretty girl like you.

That night, he held an important meeting with the guards. An idea had came to his mind to spice things up a bit.

That night, he instructed the pink guards to kidnap you from your bed quietly, so as to not alert the other players, especially not Gi-hun who had become a friend to you.

“Bring her here tonight. I have a proposal for her,” he said to the guards, darkly.

That night, after much twisting and turning, you were finally able to fall asleep. Your slumber was cut short as you felt gloved hands clasp over your mouth. Your scream was muffled as two guards grabbed you but you quickly became silent feeling the cold barrel of a gun press against your temple.

“We’re not here to hurt you, just be quiet. Someone wants to see you,” one of them said.

Your heart beat faster in your chest as they led you out of the dormitory. Who wanted to see you?

They led you through the maze and through hallways you had never seen before, each step making fear course through your veins. You had no idea what to expect from whoever wanted to see you. Meanwhile, the Front Man watched through the monitors as the guards brought you to him, each step closer leaving him eager.

The large door to his personal quarters slid open and you were brought inside before the guards left without a word. Stood before you was a man in all black and when he turned around, your breath hitched.

He was tall, older and handsome. You cursed yourself internally for that being your first thought but you couldn’t help yourself. Anyone would think the same if they saw the man before them.

“Good night,” he greeted, his deep voice making you shiver. “Enjoying yourself?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Is that a serious question? And who the hell are you—wait, you’re the organizer of these games?” you asked, recognition in your tone.

“We’re not here to speak about that sweetheart but yes, any other questions you’d like to ask?” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Why am I here?” It was the only thing you could think to ask as he towered over you.

“As you’ve realized, I’m the organizer of this game. My name is Hwang In-ho and I have a proposal for you,” he replied.

You tilted your head and quirked your eyebrow, a thousand questions swarming your head but none being able to translate to actual words.

“The X on your uniform suggests you’re keen on leaving the game but since majority voted to stay, I have a different method in which you can leave.” He stepped closer now, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“To leave the game, you’ll have to have sex with me.” The moment the words left his lips your eyes widened in shock.

“T-to leave the game, I’ll have to let you fuck me?” you repeated.

“If that’s how you want to word it, but yes,” he retorted, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s entirely your decision. You let me fuck you and you leave the game, you refuse and I send you back safe and sound.”

Safe and sound. You scoffed, he was sending you back there to die. Was it really your decision considering the situation you were in? You truly had no other choice. If you refused, you’d be sent back to continue the cycle of ‘one more game’ until you lost s game and died. You didn’t have much fight in you left, this was your only option and it seemed more plausible than going back to more than likely end up dying.

On the other hand, if you decided to take In-ho up on his offer, you would return home safe. You stared up at him, eyes flossing over his sharp yet soft features. He wasn’t hard to look at. In fact, you could picture him above you. You could picture him having those large hands all over you, his hand wrapped around your neck, his cock—

“You’re biting your lip,” In-ho said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your cheeks heated as you looked away from him, he could probably tell what your answer was by your reaction.

“You can take a long warm shower and later, inform me of your decision,” he added.

He gestured to the bathroom and you walked inside meekly, your eyes landing on some new clothes neatly folded on the counter. He seemed to have it all planned out, you admired a man that knew what he wanted and went after it, you had to give him that.

Stepping into the shower, you allowed the warm water to engulf you and wash away the weight you had been carrying the last few days. You scrubbed yourself thoroughly, remembering how blood would splatter on your skin after a player had been shot. Thinking about the incident made you shudder, you needed to escape. This was the opportunity you had been hand picked to be given and you decided that you had to take it.

After a long shower, you dressed yourself in the clothes In-ho had laid out for you. It was a cute dress that hugged your figure. Strategic—but you weren’t mad at it.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, In-ho’s eyes landed on you. His eyes roamed your figure, not even being subtle about it.

“I’ve made my decision,” you said.

“Already? Well then, what is it?”

You sighed, telling yourself it was just this once and you truly had no other choice.

“I’ll have sex with you in exchange for my freedom,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Oh, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re going to be my slut,” he murmured, “and say it louder. Use your voice as much as you can now, because by the time I’m finished with you, you won’t have a voice from how much I’ve made you moan.”

Your breath caught at his words but you couldn’t deny the way it made your core throb. “I’ll fuck you in exchange for my freedom.”

“Good girl. So obedient for me already. I’m going to have so much fun with you, a pretty girl shouldn’t be in this hell hole,” he cooed. “First, I want you to get on your knees and crawl to me.”

His request made your heart drop. It felt so degrading yet thrilling. Adrenaline and pure lust ran through you and your gaze locked on his as you went on your knees and crawled to him. You crawled slowly but seductively, watching as he adjusted himself in the couch.

When you finally reached his feet, his hands went to your cheek, caressing it. “That’s a good girl. Next, I want you to unbuckle my pants and pull my cock out.”

With shaky hands, you did as you were told unbuckling his pants and when you reached his boxers, you paused. The dent told you everything you needed to know—he was aroused. And by the looks of it, he wasn’t a small man. He lifted his hips, allowing you to pull his underwear down and you gasped as his cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen.

You’d never seen such a pretty cock and you cursed the thought for infiltrating your mind even though it was true. In-ho was long and hard, surely to hit all the right spots deep inside you. You wrapped your hand around the base and bit your lip feeling him throb.

“Suck my cock and show me just how bad you want to get out of here,” he whispered, his tone dark.

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him stretch your jaw open. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move your head, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of pleasing him. “That’s it, just like that,” In-ho groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

The gliding of your tongue across the thick shaft sent shivers through him. You could feel his balls twitch, and his thighs tensed beneath your hands. You moved to trailing your lips along the side of his cock, before meeting his dark eyes that stared down at you. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he took, and you could tell he was trying to hold back from losing control.

“You’re so good at this angel, fuck, so dirty.” You moaned around his cock, then took it out of your mouth to spit on it. Sticking your tongue out, you looked up at him as you slapped his cock against it and he held your hair in response, his head tipping back.

With his fingers in your curls, he dragging your mouth up and down his shaft before he started thrusting. You gagged but he didn’t stop, if anything, he sped up but only after giving you a minute to breathe. You could feel his cock twitch down your throat and you began massaging his balls, tears in your eyes as his thrusts increased.

“Swallow my cum like a good girl. Show me how bad you want to get out of here,” his deep voice said.

You took him to the back of your throat, and stroked what didn’t fit as you felt the salty taste of cum fill your mouth. Without hesitation, you swallowed, humming around his cock and sending jolts of pleasure through him.

Pulling you up by your hair, he kissed you, savoring the taste of his own release.

“You did well. I’m thoroughly impressed,” he chuckled.

He pulled you off your knees, his hands roaming your sides and caressing your curves before he squeezed your ass.

“Strip.” His voice left no room for disobedience and you did as you were told, slowly and seductively ridding yourself of the clothing he had generously gave to you.

His dark gaze drank in the sight before him and by the smirk on his face, he was utterly impressed. As he stood up, he held under your ass, hoisting you against him and walking with you to what you assumed to be the bedroom.

It was dimly lit and large but you had no time to admire it as he threw you on the bed. “Let’s see if you taste as delectable as you look.”

His lips pressed against your abdomen, trailing kisses until he reached your clit, spreading your legs and kissing further and further.

“You’re soaked, so wet for me,” he murmured, using his tongue to collect your wetness and spitting it back onto your pussy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, the feeling of his warm mouth on your pussy the best thing you'd ever felt these last few days.

“Your moans are so sweet angel."

He dived in, flicking his tongue on your clit before bringing it down to your leaking hole and licking back up. His grip was firm on your thighs, spreading them wide as he continued. You couldn’t believe the utter pleasure you were feeling, he was so skilled with his tongue having you squirm underneath him and moan so loudly, you feared the guards would hear.

His tongue was practically inside you, tonguing you and moving back up to suck on your clit. As his movements increased, the coil in your abdomen grew tighter, ready to burst.

“Cum on my tongue beautiful, be a good little slut.” A loud gasp left your lips and your body lifted from the bed as he practically took your soul and you squirted onto his face, soaking him. He slurped you up like a starving man and you squirmed under his touch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum and you taste just as good as you look,” he panted.

Feeling bold, you pulled him up into a kiss, his mouth soaked in your juices. His head moved down to your full breasts, suckling and moaning as your fingers tangled in his silky hair.

"So eager sweetheart. Beg me to fuck you, let me hear how bad you want to leave this place," he teased.

"Please In-ho," you whined, "Please fuck me, I want your cock so fucking bad."

Swiftly, he sank into you, but halted, allowing your tight pussy to adjust to his size.

“Shit,” you moaned, as he took your breath away, “you’re so fucking big.”

“I know baby, but you better take it like a good girl if you want to leave,” he whispered, reaching down and rubbing your clit to ease the tension.

As you adjusted, he slammed into you, burying his cock to the hilt. Your moans filled the kitchen as he began moving at a pace that had your toes curling and your fingers gripping the sheets.

With how he was pounding into you, your pussy surely would remember the shape of his cock. You could feel him deep inside your cervix his cock twitching and your pussy throbbing. His large hand snaked around your neck as your foreheads touched, small trickles of sweat mingling. He worked his hips into you, your mouth in an ‘O’ as you breathlessly moaned with him slamming into you.

“You feel fucking amazing, best pussy I’ve ever had,” he panted.

You cried out in response and he pulled out his cock, slapping the heavy tip on your clit making you jolt. As soon as it made contact with your clit, you squirted, your juices spurting all over his cock. He slipped back in and as you tightened around him, you felt something warm and sticky fill you up.

"This pussy feels too good not to cum inside. Fuck, don’t move, I'm not finished with you yet."

He flipped you on your stomach and sank into you from behind, slapping your ass as he did.

“This ass,” he moaned, “you should see how good you look from this angle.”

His hips snapped against your ass, pounding you as your back arched deeper. You whimpered loudly and did your best to please him, slamming your ass back against him, his cock brushing that sweet spot deep inside you.

He gripped your curls, using it as an anchor to slam into you faster and harder.

“God, you’re clenching around me so tight, cum on my cock,” he moaned.

You buried your face into the bed, crying out as you shuddered and squirted around him, your arousal dripping down to his sheets. With one last powerful stroke, you felt something warm and sticky fill you up again.

He pulled out slowly, a deep moan escaping his lips before he collapsed on the bed beside you. He pulled you on top of him, plugging your pussy with his cock, not letting a drop of his cum go to waste.

“You did so well. You made a good decision,” he whispered in your ear.

For the rest of the night he held you close with his cock buried deep inside you. By morning, you were too sore and fucked out to even move.

You sat up in bed as you heard the door open, watching as In-ho approached you with breakfast. Softly, you thanked him and began eating, unable to make eye contact after the night you had with him.

“As promised, you can leave the game tonight. I’ll give you some cash and my contact so we can—keep in touch.” As he said those last words, his eyes fell to your bare chest.

Later that night, a deep sudden sleep took ahold of you without you being able to fight it. In your slumber, In-ho kissed your forehead, allowing the guards to take you off the island and back home with a wad of cash he generously gave you. He knew he’d eventually see you again but he hadn’t expected it to be for a completely different reason than what he had in mind.

Sunshine peaked through your window, shining on your face as you slowly opened your eyes. Looking around, you realized you were back home and in your own bed. In-ho actually kept his promise. Your eyes widened at the brief case of cash that lay on the bed beside you. For the first time in your life, fucking a man actually benefited you.

For the next couple weeks, you paid off whatever debts you had and made upgrades to your life. You earned that money and you’d spend it however you saw fit. Your happy streak didn’t last long though as each morning, you grew sicker and sicker.

It was terrible, you were barely able to eat as even the smell of food had you dashing to the bathroom and bending over the toilet, vomiting.

You weren’t sure what was wrong with you so, you decided to pay a quick visit to a doctor. Your doctor ran a variety of tests and informed you that you’d be given your results in a few days.

The days passed in a blur of overwhelming fatigue and nausea. If the games hadn’t killed you, this definitely would.

Finally, you received a call from your doctor about your results.

“Congratulations!” she beamed over the phone and your eyes furrowed in confusion. “You’re pregnant, just a few weeks along.”

The phone fell from your hands and you heard the muffled voice of your doctor asking if everything was alright. You were pregnant. Having only had sex with one person a few weeks ago, you knew exactly who the father was—Hwang In-ho.

You didn’t know what to do. A life was growing inside you, a life you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep or nurture. Absentmindedly, you dialed the number In-ho had given you. After just two rings, you heard his deep voice answer.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting on your call,” he said, a smirk evident in his tone.

“In-ho, I-I’m pregnant,” you spat out.

There was a silence on the other end before he spoke again. “You’re pregnant? Shit, I should’ve known.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” you snapped. “You came inside me twice and had your dick in me all night. What did you think was going to happen? Now, I’m stuck with something I don’t know what to do with.”

He sighed and paced his quarters. “Listen to me. It was never my intention to have that happen, trust me. But whatever decision you make whether to keep the baby or not, I’ll support you. In fact, I’ll be at your apartment by tonight.”

His words provided a sense of strange comfort for you. Having him over would give you all the answers you needed. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to keep the baby or abort it. None of this was supposed to happen, you fucked him to escape the game, not to have him impregnate you.

“Okay In-ho. Thank you for being understanding, I’ll see you tonight.”

After hanging up, you sat on the new expensive couch you had bought using the money In-ho gave you. Your life had been a roller coaster the last three months, but somehow, In-ho’s words and actions was the calm in the face of the storm. In some twisted way, he was perfect. And you knew if you decided to keep the baby, he would be the perfect father.

[monster-disaster]

A request for two exoskeleton aliens that are very addicted to feeling and fondling a cute squishy human they found

alien!Scad x human!Reader x alien!Talex Good to know: smut, threesome

A/N: Exoskeleton aliens were really specific and I hope my aliens are close to what you imagined. And if you wanted something more like Tarzan meets Jane type of thing, don't worry, I want to write something like that in the near future. :)

-

Your breathing is ragged and uneven as you hurry along the endless corridors that lead you outside to the ship that arrived not long ago. The sharp click of your sleek black heels against the gray tiles echoes through the empty hall in perfect rhythm with your rushing steps. Each knock bounces off the tall, blank walls, mixing with the soft, desperate huffs escaping your lips as you push forward. Your bag almost falls off your shoulder, but your fingers are tight and firm around the black straps. It wrinkles the white fabric of your shirt underneath it.

"They are here," Jim says, opening the door for you when he sees you approaching. "And you are late."

You can't help but scoff. "Thanks, Captain Obvious."

"Come on," he waves. "Hurry."

Keeping your thoughts about the man to yourself, you turn your focus to the grandiose spaceship that gleams under the bright sun at the top of the clear blue sky. The metal doors are already open, and at the base of the long stairs, you can see the guests among your other co-workers.

As a Cultural Ambassador, you meet beings from different planets all the time. It’s your job to understand their customs, their ways of life, and to bridge the gap between their worlds and yours. Yet, despite all your training and experience, you are still sometimes caught off guard by how different they can appear compared to what you are used to on Earth. That’s probably one of the reasons you love your job so much. There’s always something new to learn, something unfamiliar to explore.

From this distance, their skin appears to shift colors depending on the light; a shimmering green with hints of blue and purple that ripple across their form. As you walk closer, you realize their skin is more like an armor, a natural exoskeleton that covers them from head to toe. They stand tall and lean, with long arms and legs that bend in ways unfamiliar to human anatomy. The joints at their knees curve gracefully backward, resembling the powerful hind legs of a predator built for speed and agility.

"That’s new," Jim hums beside you, easily keeping pace with the rhythmic clicks of your high heels.

"Shut up," you hiss under your breath, eyes narrowing in annoyance as you keep your focus ahead. "They have a great hearing."

The closer you get, the more details you see. Their bodies are a blend of hard, angular bones and taut muscles. Though they may seem slim, there’s no doubt in you about the immense power lurking beneath their armor-like skin. They resemble the perfect fusion of the grace and agility of prey with the raw strength and precision of a predator. They carry all the best attributes of both types, presenting a striking balance of beauty and strength.

“Wow,” Jim mutters, but you only send him a brief, sidelong glance before turning your full attention back to the aliens.

You offer a calm and friendly smile, one you’ve practiced countless times for these occasions.

“Welcome to Earth,” you greet them in their own language. The unfamiliar words roll off your tongue with a heavy accent as you approach. Your posture is relaxed and open, with your back straight and your arms hanging comfortably by your sides.

"I hope your journey was comfortable,” you say, stopping a few feet away from them. “I’m Y/N. We’ve already communicated through messages.”

“Yes,” one of them replies, reaching out his hand for you. The gesture, while surprising, isn’t entirely unfamiliar. As diplomats of their home planet, they’re also learning your customs. You accept the hand and shake it briefly. “I’m Scad, and this is Talex.” The other male gives a wave, though the motion feels unusual coming from him.

“Are we ready to go?” you ask, directing the question mostly to your co-workers. They nod, stepping back to give you space to do your job.

“Yes,” Talex responds. His voice is smooth and gentle.

“Great,” you smile warmly. “Let’s make the best of your time here.”

_

The restaurant buzzes with life, rich with the soft music playing in the background and the low murmur of conversations weaving through the delicate clinking of cutlery and glasses.

You glance at Talex and Scad, who sit across from you. Their expressions are a blend of curiosity and cautious enthusiasm as they take their first bites of the steak you recommended. Their skin seems to shimmer under lights that cast a soft glow over the polished wood tables and vibrant artwork adorning the walls.

“So, what do you think?” you ask after a few quiet moments, letting them savor the flavors.

Talex hums thoughtfully, his large, all-black eyes reflecting the dim light above. “Much softer than what we are used to,” he replies. His voice is smooth and gentle, almost melodic.

Scad nods beside him, his slender fingers are still around the fork as he takes another bite. “But I miss more spice,” he adds honestly.

“More spice?” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. When they nod in agreement, a smile spreads across your face. “Then we’ll have to try my favorite restaurant next time. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“I still feel guilty we didn’t bring some of our favorite dishes with us,” Talex says, a note of regret lacing his words. “But we weren’t sure it would be good for human digestion.”

You suppress a laugh, trying to maintain your polite demeanor. “It’s fine, really,” you assure him. From what they shared about their home planet and their culinary customs, the dishes sounded raw and rather... challenging for your human system. You imagine vibrant colors and strange textures that would likely send your stomach into a confused spiral.

Scad takes a sip of his drink, his expression brightening as he savors the wine. The tangy notes dance on his tongue, and you can see the delight in his large, dark eyes as he nods appreciatively after every sip. “We are curious about your spices,” he says, his voice smooth and melodic, carrying a hint of excitement. “What kinds of flavors do humans use usually?” He tilts his head slightly, his long limbs moving gracefully as he continues to eat, a picture of both elegance and curiosity.

"It depends on the country, really," you reply. “Each region has its own unique flavors and combinations. If you enjoy spices, you might find a lot of countries’ dishes intriguing."

“And the dessert?” Talex chimes in, his eyes widening with eager anticipation as he looks up from his plate. There’s an almost childlike excitement in his strange, alien-like expression, as if he is already envisioning the chocolate cake you mentioned a few days ago, despite the fact that he still has half of his steak left.

You can’t help but laugh. “It will come soon,” you assure him with a playful smile spreading across your face. “I promise, it’s worth the wait!”

Scad glances between you and Talex, a curious tilt to his head. “Is it… sweet?”

“Very sweet,” you reply, leaning in slightly as if sharing a delicious secret. “It’s rich and creamy, with layers of chocolate that just melt in your mouth. The texture is like velvet, and it’s often topped with a ganache that makes it even better.”

You already talked about it with Talex, and he found your human sweets and snacks really intriguing. While they enjoy tastes and meals are a significant part of their social life, the thought of eating just for fun and not for company or nutrients is strange. They don’t even have these kinds of sweet tastes where they come from, so you want to show them as much as you can while they are here.

Their stay on Earth has been without a hitch so far. The aliens are kind and polite, always eager to engage in whatever activities you suggest to show or teach them about your planet and its diverse creatures. In turn, they share fascinating stories about their home, too. They express their appreciation for the comfort and softness that Earth has to offer, especially considering that their own planet can be quite hostile. The harsh conditions there have shaped them, resulting in their armor-like skin you noticed immediately when you saw them the first time. You also discover that the differences between their males and females are strikingly minimal, limited mainly to their genitals and colors. Much like the diverse spices found on Earth, their males tend to be more colorful with vibrant hues and patterns. And while you might expect aliens from such a harsh planet to be rough themselves, they are surprisingly refined, especially in their appreciation of technology and art. They are advanced in both fields, which makes every visit to museums and galleries a delight for them. They seem genuinely fascinated by Earth’s creations, examining each piece with an almost childlike curiosity. The more you get to know them, the more ideas you gather about other places and experiences they might enjoy here.

_

"So," Scad says, breaking the monotone rumble of the car as he studies the brochure you gave him. "This is… music?"

"Yes," you reply, nodding as you turn your attention from the window and the passing city to look at him. "From what you've told me, our classical music is actually quite similar to what you play on your planet."

"Do they have chocolate cakes?" Talex asks, already guessing the answer when he glances at you and sees the smile spreading across your face.

"No," you tell him, chuckling. "But we can get some after the concert. There’s a popular café near my apartment that sells cakes too."

The younger of the two smiles and nods eagerly. "I can’t wait."

Ever since Talex first tried chocolate cake at the restaurant, he’s been a little obsessed with it, much to Scad’s surprise. Scad hadn’t taken to the cake himself, but you’re determined not to give up just yet. You are sure there’s a dessert out there that will suit his tastes, too, and you are ready to help him find it.

The city is alive and buzzing with nightlife. Vibrant lights and neon signs spill through the tinted car windows, casting colored reflections over the seats. The hum of traffic mingles with the steady rumble of the engine as you make your way through the crowded streets. It’s Friday night, and the sidewalks are filled with people. Some are heading home after a long day, while others are eager to unwind with friends, ready to keep the night going until sunrise.

When you arrive at the theater, long rows of people are already lined up, chatting and shuffling impatiently, eager to get inside. The chill in the air nips through your black dress and matching jacket, which do little to guard you against the cold.

Once inside, you are greeted by a rush of warmth. The tickets are still in your hands as you watch your companions take in the opulent interior. Talex’s gaze drifts upward, transfixed by the golden details that gleam under the grand chandelier hanging from the intricately painted ceiling. The bright light dances off polished surfaces, illuminating the marble pillars and casting soft reflections across the hall.

"Your architecture is amazing," he murmurs, still staring upward as you gently take his arm to guide him through the crowd. "Our buildings are more like what you call ‘modern.’"

Scad nods in agreement, his gaze lingering on the sweeping staircases and rich wood paneling. "Our buildings are efficient to build, but not nearly as satisfying to look at."

"Come then," you say with a smile, still holding onto Talex’s arm. "I think you’re going to enjoy tonight."

Guiding them through the bustling lobby, you lead them up to the gallery. Once there, they take in the grand view from above, where the entire stage and rows of seats below spread out. The soft murmur of the crowd blends with the faint tuning of instruments from behind the curtain, building an air of anticipation.

"Amazing," Talex sighs again, and you only smile.

The short wait, until the concert begins, passes with quiet conversation as they occasionally ask you questions, but mostly, they are captivated, taking everything in while you watch them with patience and some pride. Seeing their awe gives you a renewed appreciation for it all; each detail of the theater seems more delicate, more grandiose through their eyes.

When the thick, red curtain finally parts and the first notes resonate through the hall, a flutter of anticipation stirs in your stomach. You want them to enjoy this, to feel something new.

As the night unfolds and each melody follows the next, you notice them gradually relaxing against the plush red seats, becoming immersed in the experience. Their alien expressions are subtle and hard to read, but with each passing day, you’re getting better at interpreting the quiet, telling glances they exchange and the slight shifts in their posture.

By the time the concert ends, you can tell they enjoyed it without needing to ask. There’s a lightness in their steps and a glint of excitement in their eyes as you leave the bright hall of the theater and step into the vibrant, bustling street. The black car with your chauffeur for the night is already waiting, and it merges smoothly into the flow of traffic once you are all inside.

"So," you smile, glancing at them. "I take it you enjoyed the concert?"

"It was really fascinating," Scad replies thoughtfully. "Our instruments are quite similar, but more..." He trails off, searching for the right word that doesn’t seem to come.

"Modern," Talex offers, then makes a face, clearly dissatisfied. "Not quite the word, but…" he gives a small shrug as if words are too limited.

You nod with understanding. "I get it," you say warmly, appreciating their attempt to bridge the language gap.

"Can we come back again?" Scad asks, casting a last, lingering look over his shoulder at the theater as it fades from view with a left turn.

"Of course," you reply with a smile. "There are all kinds of concerts. We can look up the ones that might interest you the most."

"And now, can I get my cake?" Talex asks, a grin spreading across his face, his dark eyes bright with anticipation.

You chuckle and nod. "Yes, absolutely."

The café is still open and lively when you arrive, the warm air rich with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the hum of conversations and the clinking of cups.

"What should I try?" Scad asks, eyeing the display, while Talex’s choice is clear from the eager look on his face.

"Well, since chocolate isn’t your favorite but you like our fruits, maybe something with berries?" you suggest, gesturing to the colorful pastries.

Then, turning to Talex, you grin. "And for you, we have something called hot chocolate."

"Oh?" Talex hums, intrigued. "It’s not like coffee, is it?"

You laugh, recalling his reactions to coffee’s bitterness. "No, nothing like coffee."

"And you might like green tea," you say, glancing back at Scad with a knowing smile. "I have a feeling you’ll enjoy it."

There’s so much you want them to try, so many flavors and experiences to share. You almost worry you will give both yourself and them a bit of a whirlwind.

"I trust your choices," Scad replies with a nod, and Talex quickly mirrors him.

When you get your order and scan the busy café, you can’t help but sigh. There’s no way you’ll find a free table anytime soon.

"Sorry," the cashier says with an apologetic smile. You give a friendly nod, reassuring her with a smile of your own, and bid her goodbye before rejoining Scad and Talex, who have stayed out of the crowd’s way.

“There’s no space here,” you tell them, handing over their boxes with drinks and cakes. “But we could go up to my apartment if you’re interested,” you offer, then quickly add, “But you’re also welcome to head home if you’re tired. I’d understand.”

"No," Talex responds immediately, only to let out a small groan as Scad nudges him with an elbow, a gesture he’s picked up since coming to Earth.

"We don’t want to be a burden, Y/N," Scad says, looking almost bashful.

"Oh, no, not at all," you insist, shaking your head. "I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Come on, let’s go."

Your apartment is only a few minutes’ walk away, perched on the top floor with a lovely view over the city skyline. It’s nothing grand, but it’s cozy, and it’s home.

"I imagined something more... I’m not sure," Talex murmurs as he takes in the space with open curiosity. "You’re always so put together and professional, but your home is... soft and comfortable."

Scad nods in agreement. "And colorful."

Most of your furniture is secondhand, pieces you couldn’t resist picking up from flea markets or online listings. Colorful pictures and paintings fill the walls, lush plants soften the corners, and piles of blankets and pillows add texture to the couch and armchair.

“What is this?” Talex asks, pointing to a vintage birdcage hanging beside the TV.

You chuckle, feeling a bit sheepish. “It’s silly, I know. It’s an old birdcage, but I use it to hold my jewelry.”

“Birdcage?” Talex repeats, intrigued.

“People on Earth keep all kinds of animals as pets,” you explain with a smile. “But I don’t have a bird.”

“No?” Talex looks at you, flicking a necklace gently with his finger.

You shake your head. “I wouldn’t have time for a pet, and besides, I’d never keep a bird in that tiny cage.”

“It’s creative,” Talex nods thoughtfully, his face lighting up. “I like it.”

You laugh, pleased by his interest. “I’m glad you do.”

You spend the next hour gathered around your small dining table, chatting about everything from desserts to upcoming concerts as you browse tickets online.

“I think you’ll enjoy this one, too,” you murmur while confirming the order. “And how’s the chocolate?” you ask Talex, catching a glimpse of Scad as he rises from his seat to wander over to the window.

“It’s really good,” the younger alien replies with a hint of a smile. “But you already knew that.”

You laugh, barely hiding your satisfaction. “I had a feeling.”

Scad interrupts your banter, his voice thoughtful as he looks out at the city below. “Now I see why you chose this place.”

“Yeah,” you say, moving to stand beside him. The city is alive with people and traffic. Lights reflect off the glass buildings and stretch out into the night. “When I saw this view, I knew I’d want to see it every day.”

Scad turns his gaze back to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and admiration. “It’s beautiful. So much movement… so much life.”

“It’s easy to get lost in it. Sometimes, I find myself just watching the streets, the way people interact, how the city breathes.”

“It feels… different here. The energy is more vibrant than on our planet.”

Scad turns back to the window. "It’s lively… almost overwhelming.”

"It can be," you agree. "Is it so different where you come from?"

He nods slowly, his eyes still fixed on the scene outside. “It can be busy too, especially in our cities, but it’s not so vibrant. Now that we’ve started opening up to other planets, we’re seeing more species coming in, but nothing like this. All these creatures, and they can still coexist together.”

"I'm not even sure humans could survive on our planet," Talex speaks up from behind you, closer than you anticipated. "Your kind is so soft and vulnerable."

Before you can process the shift in the atmosphere, you feel the alien's hard chest pressing against your back. The sudden contact makes your breath hitch, yet it’s not enough to make you step away.

"We can be resilient too," you reply weakly, earning a chuckle from Scad.

"Hard to believe," he says, looking over you with an amused expression. There’s no malice in his words, so you don’t feel offended, even though an argument is ready to roll off your tongue. However, Talex’s long, slender fingers resting on your hips stop the train of your thoughts immediately.

"What are you doing?" you manage to ask, feeling your heart race.

"Humans are fascinating," Talex muses, his voice low and thoughtful, though it’s not the answer you wanted. "You are so fascinating."

Scad takes a step closer, his gaze locked onto you. "Soft."

You gulp, warmth flooding your chest and creeping up to your cheeks. "Yeah," you croak out. "You said that."

"And pliant," Talex adds, his breath warm against the crook of your neck, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. "And I'm really curious."

You know you shouldn’t ask, but the question slips out before you can stop yourself. "About what?"

Scad grins, a mischievous glint flickering in his large, black eyes. "Call it human anatomy."

The room feels charged, your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you try to gauge their intentions. There’s an intensity in the air, a palpable curiosity that you can’t ignore. The way they regard you sends your thoughts spiraling.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

Talex leans in slightly, his expression earnest yet playful. "How does your kind express affection? How do you communicate intimacy?"

Scad watches you closely as if assessing your reaction. "We’ve seen some of your gestures, hugs, kisses. But we want to understand more. What does it feel like?"

You take a breath, caught off guard by their candidness. "It’s… it’s a way to connect, to show trust and care," you explain, your voice steadying. "Humans often use touch to convey emotions."

"Touch," Talex repeats, his fingers brushing lightly against your hip as he absorbs your words. "Like this?"

His touch sends a shiver through you, igniting a mixture of warmth and uncertainty. "Yes, but it can mean different things depending on the context," you clarify, your heart racing. "It can be comforting, passionate, or even just friendly."

Scad tilts his head, contemplating your response. "And how do you know what kind of touch is appropriate?"

You pause, considering how to articulate the nuances of human interactions. "It depends on the relationship and the situation. You learn to read the signs; the body language, tone of voice, and the setting. It’s all part of understanding each other."

Talex's eyes sparkle with curiosity. "And is it always clear?"

"Not always," you admit. "Sometimes it can be complicated. Misunderstandings happen."

"It seems much easier for us," Talex says, his fingers still exploring the fabric of your dress. His touch is light and curious. "There are rules and customs to follow."

"We have those too," you tell him, struggling to keep your thoughts organized. "But it can get... confusing."

"Is it confusing now?" Scad asks, stepping even closer until you find yourself effectively trapped between their hard, lean bodies.

"Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the rapid flutter of your heart.

"And how should we make it more obvious?" he asks, his hand reaching out to gently smooth over your jaw, his touch both tender and electrifying.

"It depends," you reply. "What do you want to make more obvious?"

"Our desire to get to know you more... intimately," he states, his tone steady as he maintains eye contact. The admission hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation.

You swallow, the weight of his words sinking in. "Intimacy is a delicate thing," you say softly, feeling your heart race.

Talex nods behind you. "We will be really careful then." He reaches for the zipper of your dress, and with one smooth motion, he pulls it down. The tight fabric loosens around your body, and soon, pooling at your feet.

A shiver of surprise runs through you as the cool air brushes against your skin. You can feel your blood burning in your veins as the aliens look over you, letting their gaze linger on the soft curves of your body and the detailed lace of your underwear.

"Everyone looks like you?" Scad asks, his fingers slipping down your neck and across your collarbone.

"No," you tell them. "Some are softer, some are harder. There are no rules about how we should look." You pause, searching for the right words. "Humans come in all shapes, sizes, and styles."

"Softer?" Talex asks, his brow quirking with curiosity. "You seem soft enough."

You huff a laugh, caught slightly off guard. "Thanks?"

"You are welcome," the alien grins, his expression a mix of playfulness and sincerity. "So? What is next?"

Scad groans, exasperated. "Talex!"

"What? You are slow," Talex retorts with a smirk, clearly enjoying the banter.

You clear your throat, trying to regain some focus amid their playful bickering. "Well, sometimes people kiss."

Scad's interest piques.

"We do that too," Talex adds, his tone serious. "Though, I bet it feels different for you."

"Let’s see," Scad says, and before you can fully comprehend his words, he cups your cheeks with a gentle yet firm grip and leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss.

It's not the slow, tentative approach you had anticipated; no, it’s fast and intense. Scad’s lips move against yours with urgency, his mouth parting yours before you can process anything, his tongue slipping in to explore. The texture of his tongue is surprisingly rough, and his movements are demanding, taking much more than you are ready to give.

A breathless moment passes before Talex interrupts with a hint of impatience in his tone. "Now, me," he grunts, pulling you away from Scad's grasp to press his lips to yours.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Talex steals it away again. His kiss is just as fervent, if not more so. He thrusts his tongue into your mouth, demanding your attention. You find yourself swept up in the intensity of the moment, feeling the heat radiating from both of them.

"Can I take these off?" Scad's voice breaks through the haze of your mind, and you have to force yourself to pull away from the kiss. Your lips feel warm and swollen, tingling from the intensity.

You know you should tell them no. You should stop this before it goes any further, but the heat of the moment is overwhelming. "Yes," you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice.

With surprising ease, the alien unclasp your bra. The delicate fabric falls away to the ground. A startled gasp escapes your lips as he pulls down your panties, too, the cool air rushing against your skin, followed immediately by the warmth of his hands gripping the softness of your ass.

"Wait," you squeak, instinctively turning to escape his touch, but instead, you inadvertently push yourself against Talex. The contact is electric, and you feel a rush of heat as your body presses against his.

"Fuck," Talex groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. His breath hitches as he feels your softness against his hard skin. "So soft."

The contrast between their bodies heightens your senses, and you can't help but feel a thrill at their reaction. The moment is charged with a mix of curiosity and longing, and you are caught in a whirlwind of sensations.

Talex's hands find their way to your waist, his fingers splaying out over your skin, grounding you in the overwhelming reality of the situation. You can feel the tension build as Scad watches intently, his gaze lingering on the two of you with a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"We should-" you stammer, struggling to find your words as Talex's hands glide over your bare skin without pause. Scad's gaze feels like a tangible weight on you, burning with intensity. "We should sit down," you finally manage to say, hoping the suggestion will give you a moment to clear your mind.

"That's a great idea," Talex agrees, his tone laced with eagerness as he gently guides you toward the couch.

They move like predators, each step quick and graceful, their limbs fluid and poised in a way that feels both alien and mesmerizing. Their legs, so different from yours, move with elegance. The warm glow of the city lights filters through the window, casting a soft illumination over the room and highlighting every hard line of their bodies. The yellow light dances across their armor-like skin, accentuating the sleek contours and the vibrant colors that shift subtly with their movements.

They sit down at your sides, caging you between them once again.

"I want more kisses," Talex demands, cupping your jaw to turn your head so he can capture your lips once again. His kiss is insistent, a mix of urgency and longing, and your moan is muffled against him, vibrating through his chest as he swallows the soft sounds leaving your lips.

Meanwhile, Scad makes himself busy, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a tingling path of warmth that sends shivers down your spine until he reaches your breast. You can feel his curiosity as he gropes your soft flesh, exploring its weight with a gentle yet demanding touch. When he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his rough tongue over the sensitive bud, you squeak at the sudden sensation, the pleasure shocking you.

Talex pulls away briefly, peeking down at his friend with wide eyes of surprise, but it only takes a moment for him to follow suit. He pushes you back against the couch, claiming your other breast for himself. Your head falls back with a moan as they work roughly and impatiently on your sensitive flesh, their mouths moving in tandem, licking and sucking, igniting every nerve in your body.

The heat of their bodies pressed against you, combined with the dual sensations of their tongues on your nipples, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Each flick of their tongues and each gentle bite only heightens your desire, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. You can hardly process the rush of sensations as they alternate between teasing and devouring, their fervor making it clear how much they crave you.

“Is it good?” Scad asks, his lips brushing over your nipple as he speaks. Your skin glistens with his saliva, and you can barely form a coherent thought.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, your voice airy and light, caught in the haze of pleasure.

“What else do you do?” he presses.

You can’t believe you are getting flustered even now, but the intensity of their attention has your cheeks burning. You nibble on your lip, feeling the softness swell from their kisses. A mix of embarrassment and excitement floods your senses.

“Well,” you stammer, trying to gather your thoughts. “There are other ways to be intimate… kissing, touching… exploring each other…” Your voice trails off. The heat in the room makes it hard to concentrate on anything but the warmth of their bodies pressed against you.

Scad's gaze sharpens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. “Show us,” he urges. “We want to learn.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding as you realize just how deep this exploration could go.

Slowly, you open your legs, feeling a rush of anticipation. The movement prompts Talex to tear himself away from your breast, and both aliens look down between your thighs with keen curiosity.

“Our females look different,” Scad remarks. His voice is laced with intrigue. “They are hard everywhere, protected by their skin.”

“Well,” you gulp, your heart racing as you watch Scad’s hand slip down your stomach, “we are not.”

Talex nods in understanding, his gaze locked on your exposed skin. Scad’s hand slides between your thighs, and a gasp escapes your lips when his fingers brush against your heat.

“Fuck,” Scad groans, his eyes widening as he feels your softness. “She is so soft.”

Without hesitation, Talex mirrors his friend’s movements, letting his rough fingertips glide across your wet folds. “Show us,” he says, his voice low and eager. “How do we make you feel good?”

“Okay,” you breathe out, your desire intensifying. You reach down to your pussy, your heart racing. “This is my clit,” you explain, circling the sensitive bud. “It’s really sensitive.”

Scad pushes your hand aside, eager to replicate your movements. “And this…” you continue, your voice growing shaky, “…is where a male puts his penis during… sex.”

Taking the lead, Talex lets his long, slender fingers slip inside you. “So warm,” he groans, astonished by your softness. “And you are so wet, too.”

“I’m curious,” Scad hums, his finger flicking your clit with gentle precision. “Can I taste you?”

“Yes,” you answer, the word bursting forth with urgency. “Please.”

Scad’s eyes light up with excitement as he positions himself between your thighs. You feel a shiver of anticipation course through you as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“Just relax,” Talex encourages, watching intently, his fingers still moving within you. The sensations are overwhelming, leaving you dizzy.

Scad gently parts your folds with his fingers, and you gasp at the feeling of his touch. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as he brings his mouth closer to your core.

When his tongue finally makes contact, you arch your back. Scad’s movements are curious and eager, his tongue exploring your sensitive skin with a mix of caution and fervor. You can’t help but moan, the sound spilling from your lips as pleasure washes over you.

Talex watches intently, captivated by the sight before him. “Is it good?” he asks. There is a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yes,” you gasp, unable to contain your pleasure as Scad works expertly with his tongue, flicking and swirling in ways that leave you trembling. “It feels amazing.”

“Show us what else you like,” Talex urges, his fingers still moving inside your pussy.

With a nod, you guide Scad’s head, pressing him closer as you feel the tension building within you. “Right there,” you guide, your voice breathy and desperate.

The alien responds to your instructions, his tongue rubbing against your clit, teasing and licking with increasing pace. You feel the pressure in your core tighten, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

“Don’t stop,” you urge, your hands gripping the couch as you surrender to the sensations. “I’m so close.”

Talex watches you, mesmerized by the way your body reacts to Scad’s touch.

The combination of their attentions, Scad’s mouth, and Talex’s fingers, drives you to the edge. With a final, overwhelming wave of ecstasy, you cry out, your body trembling as you release. The world around you fades into bliss.

Scad pulls back, his mouth glistening and a satisfied grin spreading across his face. His black eyes glimmer with delight.

“How does she taste?” Talex asks, breaking the silence.

“Better than any cake,” Scad replies, licking his lips as if to savor the memory. A flutter of excitement dances in your stomach at their unabashed enthusiasm.

You scoff a breathy laugh. “Well, I’m glad I could provide some competition for dessert.”

“Competition? You’ve set a pretty high bar. I think I need a taste for myself.” Talex grins, his gaze intense as he shifts between your thighs, replacing Scad.

You can feel the tension re-borning in the air, electric and charged with anticipation. The aftershocks of your orgasm still ripple through your body, but they are already ready to continue.

Before you can catch your breath, Scad captures your mouth in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, sweet and intoxicating, as he thrusts into your mouth with a delicious urgency. Meanwhile, Talex’s mouth is busy between your thighs, slurping up your wetness with hunger. The sensations blend and swirl around you, making it hard to think straight.

The dual stimulation is dizzying; you can barely comprehend the delicious heat pooling in your core. Talex’s hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he feasts on you, his tongue dancing expertly over your sensitive folds. Each lick sends shivers up your spine, and you can’t help but moan against Scad’s mouth. Your body arches instinctively, craving more. Talex's warm breath against your skin mingles with the cool air of the room, heightening your awareness of every touch. His tongue flicks and swirls with a relentless need, driving you wild as he explores your softness and warmth.

"You're so responsive," Talex murmurs, glancing up at you with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with desire. "I could get used to this." The words send another thrill through you, igniting a deeper ache within.

"Me too," Scad hums, turning his attention to your breast once again. Your body arches instinctively toward Scad, craving the warmth of his mouth on your skin. His tongue flicks over your sensitive nipple, sending electric shivers coursing through you as he lavishes attention on your breasts. The combination of Talex’s relentless mouth between your thighs and Scad's eager lips has you on the brink of insanity. Your hands hold onto them desperately, tracing the hard lines of their bodies wherever you can reach them.

“Please,” you plead. “I need more.”

"I can give you more," Talex groans, his tone low and growly.

He shifts slightly between your legs, just enough for you to see the armor-like skin between his thick thighs stretching as his cock emerges from its sheath. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sight. The tip of his length is more pointed than you are accustomed to, and a hard plate runs along the underside, adorned with ridges. There’s an undeniable elegance in the way the plate curves along his length, the hard texture highlighting the contours of his cock. Veins bulge beneath the softer parts of his skin, pulsating with an intensity that mirrors your own desire. The sight is both mesmerizing and intimidating.

“So different?” Scad asks, his lips popping softly as he releases your sensitive, swollen nipple with a teasing smirk.

You struggle to articulate your thoughts, your mind clouded. “Well,” you breathe, “it’s certainly… different.”

Talex's chest swells with pride at your words, and he shuffles closer. His tip brushes along your folds, prodding at your clit before teasingly slipping down to your achingly empty hole.

“Please,” you whisper again, your voice thick with desperation, and then you muster your strength to look at Scad. “Stand up on the couch.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

“Just do it,” you urge, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips even as your breath hitches at the feeling of Talex pushing inside you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you.”

You can see the flicker of excitement in Scad’s eyes as he processes your words, his breath hitching at your offer. Without hesitation, he rises to his feet, the couch cushions sinking under his weight as he positions himself next to your head, his long, lean legs creating an enticing frame around you.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you reply, your gaze locking onto his, filled with playful challenge and seductive confidence. “Just relax and enjoy.”

With a deep thrust, Talex fills you completely. You can feel your drenched pussy clenching around his rigid length, fluttering and stretching as he pushes in inch by inch until your lungs burn because you don't remember how to breathe. You need several seconds to adjust around him and make yourself focus on Scad. You lean closer, your heart racing with anticipation. His cock stands proudly before you, glistening with arousal and impatience. You reach out, wrapping your fingers around him, feeling the warmth and firmness of his skin under your touch. The excitement of tasting him sends a thrill coursing through your veins, and with a sultry smile, you lean forward, your mouth parting in eager anticipation.

As you wrap your lips around Scad, you savor the heat and weight of him on your tongue. He gasps softly, shocked and delighted. The taste of him is unique, a mix of salt and something distinctly alien, igniting your senses and intensifying your desire. You can feel his body respond to your touch. His hips instinctively thrust forward as you take him deeper, coaxing low groans and snarls from his lips.

Talex watches with hunger, his movements inside you becoming more deliberate and forceful. Each grind of his hips drives you closer to the edge. “You’re incredible,” he grunts.

You bob your head, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip of Scad’s cock, teasing him as you pull back just enough to watch his reaction. His eyes are wide, filled with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “You really are the most fascinating human,” he breathes, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you as he thrusts gently into your mouth. You can feel him growing bolder, responding to your encouragement, as he begins to take control, setting a rhythm that matches the urgency building between you and Talex.

With each press of Talex’s hips, you feel the delicious friction igniting your core, pushing you closer to that tantalizing high. You moan around Scad, and at the same time, your pussy tightens, sending shockwaves through both of them. You can see the pleasure etched on their faces.

“Just like that,” Scad encourages, his voice thick with lust. “You’re perfect.”

You can feel the heat pooling in your core, the pressure building in your stomach.

“Close,” Talex growls, his breaths heavy and labored as he quickens his pace, each thrust pushing you toward the brink. “I can feel you tightening around me.”

With a primal roar, Talex fills you deep one last time, hitting that sweet spot that sends you spiraling over the edge. You cry out around Scad, the sound vibrating through him, and the world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. Scad releases into your mouth, and Talex follows closely behind, leaving you gasping for breath. Your body trembles in the aftermath.

You collapse back onto the couch, panting, your body glowing with satisfaction and spent energy. Scad and Talex join you, their bodies warm and comforting beside yours, their breaths mingling with yours in the heavy air.

“That was… incredible,” you breathe, still reeling from the intensity of the experience.

"Definitely better than the chocolate cake," Talex grunts, followed by the groan of yours and Scad's.

[babzz6]

Heavy is the crown. - Ambessa x reader

Tw: angst, death, slight smut, blood, betrayal, lovers to enemies, implied fem!reader.

Song recommendations:

Heavy is the crown - Mike Shinoda, Emily Armstrong.

A moment.

That's all you had.

All you had was a moment of hesitation.

You had finally cornered her. After all these years of war, battle and death. You lost many dear ones, leaving a void that feels impossible to fill. Their deaths haunt you like shadows in the night. Yet sometimes you really couldn't bring yourself to care. She was all you needed. All you ever wanted.

ACT I: tethered hearts.

A deal was placed, a peace treaty in which you'd provide vital information about other kingdoms through your sources and informants and she would provide her protection, making sure you and your people were protected at all and any costs.

When you met her, saw her in all her glory, you fell and you fell hard.

Gray hair, unruly and in all of its glory, body permeated with the scars she'd earned in war, displaying them as trophies of every single battle she has won. Each ridge of her body a reminder of the years of hard work and sacrifice, telling a story of resilience etched into her very being.

Her face held something you couldn't disregard.

A fierce determination that turned her enemies into mere shadows of doubt. Though that didn't push you away it just drew you in closer like a magnet to metal.

You were the magnet, she was the metal.

Of course this hadn't go unseen by her, you weren't sly about stealing glances at her whenever and everywhere you could.

At dinner.

At the training ground.

Her office.

Everywhere and anywhere.

After awhile she had grown, somewhat fond of you and your presence.

She had wanted to get you better, an urge to know what would you prefer for dinner and how you preferred the temperature of your bath's.

She took note of how your body language reacted to her presence, when she was around. The slight shake in your frame when she got so close,

too close.

The furrow in your brow and lip between teeth, obviously thinking too hard about something.

About her probably.

At one point somehow you'd grown closer. Everyone noticed, but no one dared to mention it. The noticeable softness placed in her voice when you interrupted a meeting to deliver important papers, the slight slump of her shoulders when you were around, the gentle glances across the training ground, eyes locking, bodies glistening with sweat, brows drawn together, each glimpse with a different voice and tone yet conveying the same message.

"You know it is rude to stare." she hummed, back still turned to you as she sharpened her swords. "Can you blame me?" you murmured, leaning against the doorway, a hoarse chuckle resonated from the back of her throat and you thanked whatever gods were up there and blessed your ears with such a beautiful sound. "Come closer child, I don't bite-- much." she added as you strided towards her, each step echoing with purpose. When she finally faced you, you focused on her features, taking note that this time her silver hair was pulled back and braided tightly against her scalp, preventing it of getting in the way. Her training uniform arrayed with elegance and firmness that spoke volumes of who she was and what power she held. It hugged her curves and ridges perfectly, the black bindings made her move with grace, a shadow in the night, a mystery awaiting to unfold. When her eyes met yours you were met with a strong cold gaze, the kind of look anyone who was stupid enough to cross her saw last. Yet her eyes quickly softened at the sight of you, amused smile graced her features as her eyes raked down your body, clad in a red robe that didn't quite reach your knees, barely corvering the curve of your ass. It accentuated your curves and bust, doing very little in hiding your body away from any prying eyes. "Do you intend to seduce anyone tonight, little girl?" she said, her arm yanking you closer by your waist, you stumble into her, your hands holding on to her biceps for support. "Just my favorite warlord." you mumble, looking up at Ambessa through my lashes, she chuckles, its faint, but it's there. For a second you stay like that, eyes locked, intense stares and unspoken feelings mixing with the growing lust in the air.

Suddenly, her lips crashed into yours, sending a wave of heat to your cunt, bundle of nerves pulsing and swelling with need and want. You moan softly into her mouth, hands digging slight crescends into her arms, teeth clashing and mixed saliva dripping from your mouths, down to your chin and pooling on the swell of your breasts.

Rough, calloused hands from years of wielding swords and shields making quick work of removing your robe, separating from your lips and her pupils descend on your body, dilated as you stare up at her with those eyes. The ones that she loved. Your body bare before her, begging to be taken right then and there.

One hand cupped your breast, while the other hand gripped your other and she lowered herself until her mouth was at level with your perky nipple begging for attention. She took it in her mouth, tongue swirling around the bud which got impossibly harder under the warmth of the muscle, she groaned and you moaned, hands fisting her braids, pulling on them.

"Oh fuck-- Ambessa, fuck! Fuck me!"

With one loud pop, she pulled away from your tit, her hand still fondling with care the other.

"Did no one ever teach you manners, child?" she said eyeing the way your face reddened and your gaze averted from hers, skin prickling from the sheer embarrasment, "Please fuck me..." you whispered, "Good girl." she said, standing once again to her full height, kissing you once before mumbling,..

"You're mine now. Do you understand this?" she said, but it sounded more like an order than a question.

"Yes, yes, god." you whined, hands fisting her bindings, pulling on them eagerly.

"Good."

The rest of that night followed by many others, was spent with loving kisses, hands exploring with depth bodies they so badly craved to know and understand. Limbs tangling and untangling to tangle once again, heat and passion flourishing from deep within.

Every whispered word felt electric, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each shared moment. The world outside faded, leaving only the rhythm of hearts syncing in a dance of intimacy. Each caress was a silent promise, a testament to the connection that bound them, as they lost themselves in the bliss of each other's embrace, savoring every heartbeat and sigh.

But not everything lasts forever.

Months later that passion decreased, shadows of doubt flickered every now and then across Ambessa's face, like a dark cloud threatening to eclipse the moon. For a few weeks that uncomfortable query lingered in the air, as if the night held secrets that could unravel the tenderness they shared.

Whispers of betrayal danced at the edge of your mind, casting a pall over the warmth of their bodies and fleeting touches. But you'd had ignored it. Yet each kiss became a question, each touch a reminder that beneath the passion layed the potential for heartbreak, lurking just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to strike.

She had you right where she wanted you.

ACT II: sweet nothings and betrayal.

"Is this true?"

"What is, darling?"

You take out from your pocket a letter, her letter, from her office, her skin paled and her posture froze.

"Where did you find such thing?" she'd asked, eyes wide and breathing uneven.

"What is this, Ambessa?" you asked trying to sound frim and commanding, but it only came out low and small. Your eyes glazed, but you wouldn't give her that satisfaction, not now.

"Sweetness-" she'd said, and you remember vividly how her hand reached towards yours and tried to hold it, and you'd stayed still because at that moment, the weight of everything was to much to bear, a dark cloud hovered over the sweetness of her words.

You couldn’t let her in, not when the shadows from the corners of your mind whispered hushed warnings in your ear, reminding you of what you saw in that letter. The warmth of her touch felt like a dangerous temptation, and you hesitated, torn between desire and the instinct to protect yourself from the inevitable.

"Why?" you asked, voice broken and tears now deliberately flowing down your face, "Why?" you asked again, voice cracking under the weight of your grief. "I gave you everything, my love, my care, I loved you." you said, and stepped forward, "I gave you my heart and you do this? Was everything for this?" you mumbled, voice trembling as you raised your hand and wrung the letter into her hands,

"Were my feelings a joke to you? Was I just another conquest?"

Ambessa felt her heart sink as those words echoed in her mind, each syllable piercing deeper than the last. Though she kept her composure, eyes cold and eyes locked into a heartless gaze that she'd perfected over the years.

The silence between you both grew unbearable, each heartbeat echoing the pain of betrayal. You searched for any flicker of remorse in her eyes, but all you'd found was a void, a person consumed by greed and power. The laughter that once filled the air now felt like a distant memory.

Now your head felt dizzy as it filled to the brim of every memory you'd once shared, all a cruel reminder of the trust that had been shattered. You recalled your moments of vulnerability, the times you'd bared your soul to her begging to not judge you, only to realize that to she was using you all along. Stringed into playing a game that you'd had no knowlege of and giving them everything they needed to use against you.

You had failed. Failed yourself and your people.

"Goodbye Ambessa." you said and she could've killed you right then and there as you turned on your heel to leave but she didn't. She watched as you walked away, heart in your throat and guilt seeping out of you in waves.

She watched as you completely dissapeared from the sight and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She bent down and picked the letter off of the floor, she eyed it as if it had failed to do its job and walked slowly towards the fireplace and watched it burn.

Dear, Tommen of Ixtal. I write to you with a matter that requires your immediate attention. I have a valuable crown in my possession... [Name], the leader of the Demacia city, the Great City. I assure you that her well-being is currently in my hands. And I must inform you that any day now, we shall be united but not as one, but under my command, and with that, your crown will also be at stake. This is not merely a threat but a declaration of the inevitable change that is upon us. I urge you to reconsider your stance on the deal I had proposed beforehand and the path you have chosen, for the tides are shifting, and I will not hesitate to claim what is rightfully mine. I await your response. Ambessa Medarda, Noxus.

ACT III: Heavy is the crown.

Your city burned, leaving only ashes in its wake. The once vibrant streets now lay desolate, echoing the chaos that unfolded. The flames consumed everything, a hard reminder of the battles fought and the losses endured. In the aftermath, all that remains is a haunting silence, where laughter once thrived and hope flickered. The scars of destruction linger, a testament to the fragility of peace in a world fraught with conflict.

And Ambessa Medarda stands in the center of it all, her troops incarcerating children and women and slaying any men and soldiers who'd dared to step in their way. Screams echoed on the vast city and blood covered every corner, deep crimson staining a city which was a beacon of hope.

You pushed yourself to your feet even though your vision blurred, your field of vision was limited from the smoke that seemed to engulf everything in its path, your body littered with bruises and a huge gash on your arm that oozed more blood by the minute. But you wouldn't perish like this, by the hands of the person you'd loved and trusted, wouldn't die and leave your people to succumb to the many armies that kept marching through the city's gates and gathered at the center, waiting for her command.

"AMBESSA!" You shouted as loud as your lungs could allow you. You heaved, your strength fading but you pushed through, lifting your sword that seemed to be heavier than it was before. You stumbled, but you wouldn't allow yourself to fall; you couldn't.

Now here you were, standing in the middle of the rubble and ash as her figure approached you, an ominous silhouette against the chaos. The flames flickered behind her, casting shadows that danced like specters of your past. Every step she took felt like a countdown, a reminder of the betrayal that had led to this moment. You could see the smirk on her face, a twisted reflection of the love you'd once shared.

With each breath, the acrid smoke filled your lungs, but you refused to let it choke your resolve.

"This ends now,"

You declared, your voice trembling but fierce. You knew the weight of your people’s hopes rested on your shoulders, and you would fight until your last breath to protect them. As Ambessa drew closer, the air crackled with tension, and you tightened your grip on the sword, ready to confront the darkness that had once been your light, your love, your everything.

The battle was intense; she knew you like the back of her hand. Of course, she had taught you every move you were right now putting to use. Each strike felt like a dance, a tragic choreography of trust and betrayal. You could anticipate her actions, but that only made it harder to face her.

As you clashed, memories flooded your mind—training sessions filled with laughter, moments of camaraderie that now felt like a distant dream. With every parry and thrust, you fought not just against her, but against the pain of what you had and lost.

"Why, Ambessa?" you gasped, dodging a swift blow. "Why do this to us? To me?" The question hung in the air, heavy with emotion, as you prepared for the next round, knowing that this battle would determine not only your fate but the fate of everyone who depended on you.

Then that's when you saw it—the flicker of doubt in her eyes. For a brief moment, the fierce determination that had driven her seemed to waver, and you seized the opportunity.

"Is this really what you want?" you pressed, approaching her as the grip on her sword faltered slightly, and you could sense the internal struggle within her and without a second thought you lunged, driving the sword to her stomach, but you sputtered, suddenly all the air knocked out of your lungs and the taste of iron engulfed your mouth completely. Your eyes stared up in shock at her, your eyes drifting to your sword, used against you, embedded in your gut.

Your knees thudded against the ground, and the world around you began to blur. The realization of her willing to kill you over power hit harder than the blade itself. You had trusted her, believed her, and now it felt like everything was crumbling.

"Ambessa…" you gasped, the pain radiating through your body as you looked up at her. The flicker of doubt had vanished, replaced by a cold resolve that cut deeper than the wound yet there was something else, you couldn't quite place it, but there was something else.

"Why?" you managed to choke out, feeling the warmth of your own blood seeping through your fingers. "Why did you do this?"

Suddenly you lost feeling in your limbs, crashing agaisnt the ground as you coughed harshly and then warm hands embraced you, picked you up and rested your head against the crook of her arm so you could look at you properly. Her cold gaze had faded and fat tears rolled down her face,

"I'm-" she tried but she choked,

Fire in the sunrise, ashes rainin' down.

"I'm sorry-" she tried and her gaze traveled to the wound on your abdomen, pressing around the sword but it kept bleeding, if not seeping out more rapidly than before.

Try to hold it in, but it keeps bleedin' out.

You stared for a moment in her eyes, yet you couldn't bring yourself to believe her,

"No you don't."

"I'm sorry, I was blinded by my need for power and dominion that I forgot that all I needed was you. I didn't need any of it, I-" she whispered, voice barely a breath.

In that moment of vulnerability, you found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions—forgiveness warring with the desire for justice. The taste of iron in your mouth served as a bitter reminder of the choices that had led to this tragic outcome.

Yet you cut her off, your voice small and barely there whispered..,

"Stop lying. To me and to yourself."

"This is what you asked for."

You said and with the last bit of strength you had, you pulled the sword from your wound and bled out, taking a slow sigh of relief as you drifted into an eternal slumber.

Ambessa's body shook as she sobbed over your frame, shaking you brutally as if that would wake you up. But she knew deep down that you were right, a part of her only craved power and not your love yet it didn't make the pain subside, only increase. She held you tighter as she screamed into the heavens, damning herself, she screamed and screamed until her voice was raw and spent.

Then she staggered up and carried you through the battlefield that was once your city.

She will make you sure you were put to rest on the place you truly felt safe,

home.

Try to hold it in, but it keeps bleedin' out This is what you asked for, heavy is the Heavy is the crown

[thirteenheavens]

sex in the practice room with either hoshi or dino???

Be careful || Kwon Soonyoung

Notes: okay I moved onto Disney now I’m a child I fear

You enter the practice room, watching Hoshi dance with mesmerizing grace. His movements are fluid and powerful, making your heart race with excitement.

When he notices you, he breaks into a playful smile and beckons you over. "Hey beautiful," he says, catching his breath as he turns off the music. "Came to watch me dance again?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush as he approaches you. His sweat-drenched body is pressed against yours as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"You're so hot when you dance," you whisper, tracing a finger down his chest. "Makes me want to do naughty things to you." Hoshi grins at your words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Oh yeah? What kind of naughty things?" he asks, his hands sliding lower to grab your hips.

Before you can answer, he's already pushing you against the wall, his body pinning you in place. "I have a better idea," he says huskily, grinding his hips against yours. "Let me show you how much I've missed having an audience." Hoshi kisses you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roam your body. He lifts one of your legs up, wrapping it around his waist while grinding against you.

"You're already so wet for me," he groans, feeling how your panties are soaked through. "You like watching me dance that much?" You moan against his lips, clutching onto his shoulders as he continues to tease you. The practice room's mirrors reflect the scene back to you, making it even more erotic.

"Turn around," he commands, spinning you so you're facing the mirror. "I want you to watch yourself getting fucked." He quickly removes your clothes, leaving you naked and exposed before him. His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance. You hesitate, looking around the practice room with concern. "Hoshi, someone could walk in," you whisper, biting your lip nervously.

Hoshi chuckles, noticing your worry but seemingly unconcerned. "That's part of the thrill, baby," he says, nipping at your ear. He presses his body against yours, his hands moving up to cup your breasts as he speaks in a low voice. "Besides, I don't care if anyone sees how good I make you feel."

His fingers play with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body despite your lingering anxiety. "Just relax and let me take care of you," he murmurs. Hoshi's words help ease your anxiety, and you lean back against him, giving in to the pleasure. His hands continue to tease your sensitive areas as he slowly enters you from behind.

"Look at yourself," he commands, watching your reflection in the mirror. "See how beautiful you look taking my cock?" You watch as his cock slides in and out of you, the sight making you moan and clench around him. The way he fills you up so perfectly is addictive.

Hoshi begins to thrust harder, one hand moving down to circle your clit while the other holds your hip in place. "You feel so good," he groans, his breath hot against your neck. Hoshi's hips move with the same fluid grace as when he was dancing, making you moan louder with each thrust. His body rolls against yours in perfect rhythm, driving you wild.

"Your body is so responsive," he pants, feeling your walls tighten around him. "You're going to cum for me again, aren't you?" You can only nod in response, completely lost in the pleasure. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the practice room, making you blush with how lewd it sounds.

Hoshi speeds up his pace, his fingers working your clit more aggressively as he chases his own release. "Cum with me, baby," he commands, his voice hoarse with need. "Let's make a mess together." Hoshi bites his lower lip, trying to hold back his own orgasm as he feels you getting closer. Sweat drips down his face, mixing with yours as he continues to pound into you.

"I'm almost there," he grunts, his hips stuttering slightly. "But I need you to cum first." His eyes meet yours in the mirror, dark and intense with desire. "Cum for me, please," he begs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you squeezing around my cock."

The combination of his words and the overwhelming sensations pushes you over the edge, making you cry out his name as you cum hard around him. Hoshi lets out a deep moan as he feels you cum, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he follows you into bliss. His hot seed spills deep inside you, filling you up completely.

He collapses against your back, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck," he whispers, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder. Your legs tremble beneath you, barely able to hold your weight after such an intense orgasm. Hoshi carefully turns you around to face him, still buried inside you.

"You're amazing," he says, gently brushing your hair away from your face. "But now we need to clean up before anyone finds us." You and Hoshi quickly pull on your clothes, just in time to see Mingyu and Seungkwan entering the practice room. Their eyes widen at the sight of you both looking flushed and disheveled.

"Oh, hey guys," Hoshi says casually, as if nothing happened. "Just finishing up some dance practice." Mingyu raises an eyebrow, not buying the excuse for a second. "Really? Because it looks like you were doing something else," he teases.

Seungkwan smirks, eyeing the mirror suspiciously. "The room is all steamy. You two were definitely up to something."

[somewherewithouttaxes]

Daydreams

requested from @hulkingharbor

note: I'm attaching this to the Bleeding Light lore because I love the character I made, and this scenario is eating me alive :))

this is a long one. Sorry not sorry

Summary: Kurt doubts his beauty and worth. Ready takes it upon themselves to prove how much he means to them. Angst and fluff (kinda spicy but also not). Gender-neutral reader.

The mansion roof was a lonely place, but good to relax one's mind. Good to let creativity flow without the judgment of coworkers and students. Good to drown out the never-ending plaguing thoughts with bird chirps and whistling wind.

But no better remedy to stress is a best friend.

You and Kurt stopped conversing on the roof a long time ago. All that was left was a stagnant, yet calm silence. You lay on the bare concrete, letting each spinal joint decompress and muscles settle. Kurt sat next to you, staring off into the horizon, which was turning into a marvelous spectacle of purples and oranges.

You turned on your side, facing him with your body and eyes. He didn't notice you, but this didn't phase you. All you needed was to see him.

"You're so beautiful."

The words barely escaped, the whisper sticking in your throat. Kurt's head whipped down to you. Those perfect golden eyes flashed with confusion. "Pardon?"

A soft smile graced your cheeks. Your eyes couldn't help but light. "I said you're beautiful."

Kurt's eyes fell from you. You watched his jaw clench and muscles agitate. Several moments passed before he spoke again, and the one-word response grated on your mind with his frustration.

"Why?"

"Why am I talking?" Your grin faltered.

"Why are you doing this?" His accent tainted his words thicker, his telltale sign of nerves. You pushed yourself up to level with his face. "Please stop lying."

"Love, I'm not lying-"

Kurt's nearest hand hit yours away as you tried to touch him. "I'm not in the mood. Stop."

"Kurt, I'm not lying!" You ducked around to peer under his insistently ducked head. "Why would I lie? Have I ever lied like that before?"

"Because... stop." He scooted away from your gaze. His tail flicked in agitation - he never used that with you. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Your lips settled in a horrified frown. "Why do you think I'm lying? Please talk to me."

Kurt did not talk to you. He disappeared without another word in a cloud of purple and black smoke.

You threw your hands up, head whipping around the perimeter of the roof. "What the fuck?" You shouted to the sky. No response. No Kurt. You shuffled together your papers and pens, throwing everything into a haphazard pile in your arms before booking it down the stairs.

Nothing tugged at your heart more than to find Kurt immediately, but you couldn't function with your supplies so loose in your arms. Shouting for him all the way, you threw open your bedroom door and let the papers and pens fall to the floor just inside. Only mere feet back down the hall, Rogue chased you down.

"Y/N! Are ya okay?" Her powerful hands landed on your shoulder, concern painted across her lovely face.

"Have you seen Kurt? He just ran away from me after we had an argument. I'm worried for him."

"Oh, nah, I'm sorry, sugah. Do ya want me to find 'im for ya?"

You huffed a strong sigh from your mouth, propping your hands on your hips. A dull lump was forming deep in your throat. "No. This is my problem."

Your next stop was his bedroom. It had to be. His only other safe place was the roof, which he would never hide on if he thought you could still be there.

Your breath quickened with every nearing step to his door. With the number of times you'd made this walk in happiness, in giddy readiness for a late-night movie or jam session to grade papers, the growing pit of fear in your stomach should not be so frightening. Never before could you fathom dreading his bedroom.

Your knuckles made a quick rhythm against the door, calling his name one more time. You hated to risk invading his privacy, but you were desperate just to see him; a fulfilling conversation aside.

Slowly the door creaked open, revealing his empty bedroom. After a quick sweep of the visible areas, you backed away to retreat before a soft sniffle hit your ears. Barely, just beyond the edge of the couch, a dark spade lay pathetically on the wooden floor. As quietly as possible you closed the door, tip-toeing to the side of the couch. The side of Kurt's body revealed itself by the side coffee table.

"Please go away."

"Not until you talk to me, Love." You crept closer. The air between you fizzled. He was contemplating leaving again. Your body lurched to the floor, landing one hand on his bicep. "Please! Don't leave me!"

Kurt tossed your hand to the side. His curls hid most of his face, which you could sacrifice a finger to see fully. Anything to see him. You sighed, crossing your legs before him. "Why do you think I'm lying?" You prompted again, your voice softer with a newfound patience. "I'm here for you. What will it take for you to talk to me?"

A hand freed itself from the safety of his lap to wipe the running nose beneath the tear-soaked cheeks. "Ich weiß nicht was ich tun soll." His shoulders heaved.

"Babe, I still don't understand," you muttered pathetically.

Kurt's tongue swiped over his bottom lip. Your mind flashed to inappropriate places. "I am not beautiful," he stated, his flawless curls shaking with his head.

Okay. The nub of the problem.

This scenario had run through your head a hundred times before, all in different ways. Different places. You or him being the first to initiate. But no amount of practice in your imagination could prepare you for the looming threat of destroying the best relationship in your life.

Anything for a chance to cheer him up. To see his gorgeous smile, his perfect eyes light up for only a few more minutes.

"Okay. I'm going to tell you this once and you just... need to believe me," you swallowed the bile - the fear that everything could go wrong. That you had ruined everything so perfect about your relationship with three simple words in a moment of adoration. "I do love you. You are my best friend. I cherish our friendship so much-"

"Stop..." Kurt tossed his head back. Given the context, you despised the way his Adam's apple bobbed and the way you wanted to study its perfection under a microscope.

"Just- let me get through this all. I cherish our friendship so much. You understand me better than anyone. I feel the safest around you. And I love the endless nights bonding over the silly nerd shit on the balcony with endless ice cream." This was it. No going back now. "But the amount of times I've gone to bed at night daydreaming about something as simple as going on a date with you... I mean, a proper date. And I imagine so many kisses, so many other things that friends don't do. Sometimes, I even get so desperate that I go through scenarios from that day, but I imagine I'm treating you the way I truly want to."

You couldn't look at him anymore. If so, you may see him staring back at you with such horror and disgust, that you would never be able to look at yourself in the mirror again. "And I do this just in the hope that the daydream will turn into a real dream, and I can sleep through those lovely imaginings and wake up... and... yeah. That is that."

Nothing from him. No words, no shift in position. All you could offer now was the closing line you rehearsed in your mind a hundred times since opening his door.

"I do think you're beautiful. You're the most beautiful person in this entire damn mansion. I'm not daydreaming about anyone else."

When the suspense was ready to rip your heart open, you finally peeked. Kurt was staring. Not with disgust, but with wonder. Hope.

"How do you think these things?" was all he could muster out.

"Pardon?"

His six fingers fidgeted with themselves. You wanted nothing more than to reach out, take them, and kiss each of them until all doubts were ridden from his pretty little head.

"I don't understand. The last person I gave my heart to was disgusted. Horrified by me. I don't understand how you... don't."

Impossible. The thought of him with someone else, no matter how long before you, dried your mouth and made you want to hurl right there. But even more so, the thought of anyone convincing him such horrible narratives could be true... it made your blood boil. Your skin crawl. Nothing was comprehensible to you of how anyone could think of him in such a way. Not Kurt; not the handsome, skilled, kind, and brave man in front of you.

He was too kind for the world. No matter what became of him, how the world treated him, he never faced it with hate. Never pure, genuine hate for the world. Only for himself.

Slowly, knees cracking and heart aching, you reached for him as you willed yourself to stand. Kurt watched you silently beg him for a moment before accepting the offer. You led him to the edge of his bed and simply sat. Held his hands harder when he allowed himself to settle and relax.

Apprehensively, you sucked in a deep breath and steeled your eyes with his. "Please hear me, Love. You are not horrifying, Kurt. You're not disgusting. You are not. I love you, whether or not you choose to believe it, I love you. Both as a friend and as... anything else. However you'll take me."

Your hands snaked up to his neck, cupping the lean muscles beneath your palms. Warm, soft, and true. "It's okay if you don't reciprocate. I just need you to know that someone sees you as beautiful. I would never lie to you."

As if time stopped and you were left fighting through molasses space, your lips touched his cheek. Lower to his chin. Lower to his neck.

"I think your skin is so lovely. It's my second favorite color; second only to yellow."

His throat rumbled under your lips. A firework of giddiness exploded within your stomach.

While your lips traveled onto his collarbone with delicate kisses, daring to taste the rich blue skin only twice, your hands traveled with a mind of their own to play with his three-fingered hands.

"People have three fingers all the time. I see this as no issue." You brought one of his hands to your face, planting more kisses on his palm and down each individual finger.

"I quite like your ears," you confess, dragging one finger along the edge to mess with the pointy tip. "You know folks dig the elves from Lord of the Rings. So how could this be any different?" You smile.

For the first time since you dared call him what he was, Kurt smiled back. He grinned enough to flash the brilliantly pointed canines, which evoked vivid images you would dare never tell your mother.

You were about to start the journey down his chest, something you'd been all too excited to see for months, when the other hand laid a delicate grip to your chin. Masterfully, Kurt steered your face to his, and within milliseconds your daydreams came true.

His lips were still salty from the onslaught of tears, but nothing could have tasted sweeter. Together your lips worked as one, moving and sucking as though life itself lay beyond. Your back hit the mattress, hands scattering to touch every inch of his lean torso.

And then his shirt was off.

While you admired him, finally unburdened and accepting of your words, his mischievous tail snaked to your torso. Butterflies fluttered deep into your abdomen when the strong tail wrapped partially around your waist and lifted you closer to Kurt's body. He smirked down at you, amused by your desperate squirm.

"Is this what you dream of, schatz?"

A sly giggle escaped you as one finger ran down his back, so near to the spine to send gentle shivers through his entire nervous system. "You have fur," you smiled, tilting your head curiously.

"Ja?"

"It's cute." You pulled his face down to you again. You allowed this kiss to be slower. To taste him more. When Kurt pulled back with a wider smile than ever before, there was room in his eyes for nothing more than joy and relief.

"Ich liebe dich."

You ran your lovesick fingers through that beautiful head of hair. You knew what that phrase meant.

[readychilledwine]

Small World pt 3

Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.

Warnings - sibling rivalry, mentions of blood, violence, attempted assassination, Azriel picking reader (always)

A/N - this will have maybe one more part, possibly two, depending on how happy I want the happy ending to do.

Series Masterlist

Nyx was annoyed, and that was an understatement. 

You were currently being picked up and spun around by your father, a smile gracing your beautiful perfect fucking face. He hated how he was treated since your birth. He was suddenly not the golden child. Ignored in favor of a so called bundle of joy who took his father and mother away from him. They both would drop everything for him before you came, but that changed the second Madja announced you weren't a spare. You were a daughter. 

You were, and still are, a lovely little thing, Nyx could admit that. You were the perfect carbon copy of Feyre until it came to your eyes. You had your father's eyes, shining so brightly he had called you his little star from the moment you took your first breath. You had stolen his father's heart and ran with it, and that suddenly made Nyx go from hearing how he was allowed to play and just be a kid to how it was his job to protect you. 

He had worked from his teen years to now to try turning you and father against each other. Planting small seeds of doubt and failures for both of you. A rumor of uprising to stop him from going to a dance recital, whispered words of how he'd overheard Rhys discussing how your only value was your powers, lies of how Rhys only loved you for your beauty and powers. Lies and manipulation that had hardly worked. Your father still chased you, loves you, adores you. Even when you two fought like waves crashing against rocks, even when you moved out and pushed him away, Rhys loved you. Fought for you. Would lay his life down for you. 

Nyx knew deep down that wasn't exclusive to you, that your father would do the same for him, but he couldn't help that tang of jealousy as Rhys jokingly bowed to you, ending his time as your dance partner and passing you to Keir. You had not been left alone all night. Dancing with Azriel, Cassian, a few of Keirs's sons, your father. You would be forced to dance through the night, and you'd do it with a smile, stopping only for a drink when your mate would cut in with one.

His mother pressed him again, asking him to take her to dance and he finally caved, a hand reaching for hers before taking her down next to where you held an impeccable mask while dancing with a male who made your skin crawl. 

Nyx had his eyes locked on where Elain stood in the room, watching her watch you. He could tell she was plotting as she spoke to the young male next to her, hands on his biceps as she batted her eyelashes at the precise moments. She either hoped to male Azriel jealous or something the young heir had not put together, but either way, it made his hair stand on edge. 

He and mother had moved further away from you and Keir, a look of concern now gracing the High Lady's immortal face as Nyx noted the position of each member of the Inner Circle. No one was close to you. Keir had traded you off with another male. Azriel was laughing and drinking with Rhys and Cassian. 

No one was protecting you. His eyes immediately went search for your hair, for the silver and diamond encrusted hair pins you were wearing. “Nyx, honey, what's wrong?” A scream broke through the hall before he could answer. His eyes went to where Elain and that male once stood. Nyx had never moved faster, dropping Feyre's hand, shoving her to a running Nesta, then finding where you were.  

A fist landed on the male's jaw just as he rose the dagger to stab you. Then he heard nothing other than music stopping and screams all around him. Lifting the male into the air before slamming him down, wings flared as he fought. His fist colliding with the male's face sent blood flying everywhere, soaking his hand, splattering his cheeks. 

He didn't hear Cassian fighting through the crowd, ripping you into his arms and over his shoulder. He didn't hear his father yelling his name as he beat the male. He didn't hear Azriel sneak up behind him. It didn't matter as he was ripped off, though, landing on last kick to the male's ribs as he got up, the damage had been done, and as Nyx stalked into the room they all went to when hell broke loose, his eyes landed on his aunt before a noise hit his ears after the door shut and clicked to lock. 

The noise of you panicking, of your screaming as your father and Cassian tried to comfort you. The noise of your cries and babbled speech. He quickly glanced your way, heart stopping as he took in you covered in blood. Too much blood. Nyx threw the male's dagger on the floor. The ornate illyrian steal carved with flowers and Jewels clanging loudly. 

It tore the attention away from you. Azriel walking towards that familiar weapon like a ghost. It was the last thing he had given Elain. “Why did he have that?” 

Elain turned to Nyx, doe eyes confused. A wonderful actress. She always had been. Always would be. “I do not know.”

Nyx rolled his eyes, going to you and looking you over. His hand went to the side of your dress where the blood was heaviest. “Dad-”

Rhys didn't turn, his focus still locked on the dagger, face paling as he realized What she had done. “Over a male? You would have your niece murdered for a male?” Azriel had moved to you and Nyx, eyes wide as the two lowered you to the ground. “You had a chance with you mate, Elain. Killing my daughter would not have given you Azriel. It would not change a thing.”

“Rhys-” Cassian had moved to you, holding your hand as Azriel applied pressure and Nyx worked to heal you. 

“I did not attempt to kill her-”

“No, you just somehow managed to get that male to do it for you.”

“Mor, go get a healer.” 

Rhys heard that, head finally snapping to where you were on the ground. 

-

The Inner Circle was silent as Rhysand paced in front of two Archeron sisters. They were the last to vote on something Azriel felt shouldn't have been discussed. Nyx had shown them all Elain flirting with the male. He had shown them the dagger the male had, Feyre had gone into her mind. It was cut and dry. Elain had conned a male into attempting your assassination.

There was no question or doubt about it as Rhysand gave Feyre another look, waiting, pleading with her to understand the severe situation Elain had put them all in. “Our daughter almost died at the orders of your sister, Feyre.” 

“She's not in her right mind,” Nesta even gave Feyre a look at that. “She hasn't been since the Cauldron.” 

“That happened too long ago to still be an excuse,” Cassian refused to look at Nesta as he spoke. “My niece is barely alive and stable. If it wasn't for Illyrian healing, she'd be gone."

Nesta moved her chip, hands shaking as she placed it under yes. “If we say Elain is innocent for attempting to kill y/n, what else do we continue to allow her to get away with? Banishment is kind compared to what should be happening.”

“Which brings my point back up,” Azriel glared towards the floor. “If we stay, Elain knows where we are. She can try again. Let me take her somewhere else-”

Nyx shook his head. Eyes still watering. “Please don't take her from me.”

Azriel glared hard. “So you care now? You care now that she's almost died?”

“I've always cared-” Azriel stood, leaving the room. He was tired of the lies and bullshit. Tired of the manipulation. 

Had the Inner Circle always been this way? Blind loyalty to Rhys but back stabbing anyone else they could left and right? Even if that someone was each other? He thought back hard as he opened and shut the door to the room you were laid in. 

It had always been this way. Mor against Amren. Feyre against her sisters. Cassian against Rhys until he would back down. Nesta against everyone but himself. 

He reached down and held your hand, stroking his thumb across your knuckles. You deserved safety, stability, and love. "Fuck it,” he murmured, and lifted you out of bed. His shadows swirled, cold air surrounding the two of you until he hit a cottage.

A cottage surrounded by nothing but tall trees and the woods. A cottage deep in the Illyrian Mountains. 

The cottage he built by hand during his time away. The cottage he had not intended to bring you to until you were official married. 

But what was the point in waiting? You were already his in body, mind, and soul. He did not need a High Priestess to confirm that. 

The woods would do it. The Mother watching through the eyes of her creations would do it.

He would marry you tomorrow in these woods, surrounded by light and nature. Surrounded in warmth and safety. No High Lords. No plotting family. No unknown fae invited for their status.

Only you and him. Him and you.

He carried your sleeping form over the threshold. “Welcome home, baby.” 

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Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

[deanssluvr]

Maybe a Joost Klein x Broadway reader

Where the reader is a Broadway star and for some reason Joost is in New York and he decides to see a show and when he sees the reader preform he’s smitten and maybe the next day or so they run into each other what he doesn’t know is that reader knows who he is and is also a fan

i have found her

pairing: joost klein x broadway actress

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: as a theatre kid I was so happy to get this request. I hope I did it justice.

With his New York show now finished, Joost had a few days to enjoy the unfamiliar city. When exploring he found fun things to do like trying new foods, seeing a bunch of landmarks, doing a helicopter tour, and a bunch of other experiences the city had to offer. One night his friends offered to take him to see a musical. He had never been into theatre that much, but was open to the opportunity. His friend told him they were going to see Cinderella. He was very familiar with the story and had seen the movie many times, but was excited to see it nonetheless.

They went down Broadway to the theatre where the show was being performed. The street was so full of life that it was overwhelming. The sound of traffic, the blaring wails of sirens, and the chatter of people as they walk past. Blaring neon lights surround them as they decorate all, luminous buildings. All advertising the latest entertainment. The smell of street food mixed with the many perfumes and colognes of passersby engulfed his nose. They were stopped for a moment when they came across a street performer who was performing music. They stayed for a moment before dropping a few dollars into his case and continuing their way to the theatre.

Outside the theatre was a large crowd trying to push their way into the theatre. Everyone was eager to get in. Finally, it was Joost and his friends' turn to present their tickets to the ticket taker. Once inside, they were greeted by a beautiful lobby. It had white marbled walls and floors lined with velvet red carpet. They were handed playbills as they walked further into the building. His friend looked down at his ticket and led them up a set of stairs that led to where their seats were located. They had very good seats. They sat towards the house's middle and close to the front. As they waited for the show to begin, he flipped through the playbill. He landed on the pages that displayed the cast. His eyes scanned the page until they stopped on your picture. He thought you were absolutely beautiful, especially your smile. He read your name and then your role as “Cinderella”. He was more excited to see this show now. He was so captivated by your beauty that he lost interest in the playbill. He couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of you on stage.

Meanwhile, you were in your dressing room warming up one last time. Though you had performed this show 4 times in front of an audience already, you still were a bit nervous. Nut at the same time you were always excited to perform.

“Hey. Places were called a few minutes ago.” Your friend popped her head in.

“Oh shoot. Thanks.” You took one more sip of water before rushing off to places.

In the audience, Joost and his friends were discussing what else they planned to do with the time they had left in the city. There was a moment of silence as the house lights dimmed and the crowd grew quiet. During the opening of the curtains and the beginning of the orchestra's music, his anticipation grew. You took a deep breath and ran out on stage like you always do. Joost's eyes lit up when he saw you. The performance began and you felt a wave of energy wash over you. As the show went on he was mesmerized by you. He loved your voice. When you sang it sounded so powerful yet graceful. Then came the scene where you transform into the Cinderella gown. You proceeded to spin and pull off the peasant costume, revealing the gorgeous gown underneath. The transformation first took him aback, and a look of shock covered his face as he saw you in this new costume. The way you sparkled under the lights entranced him. You were the only thing he could focus on for the rest of the show.

Bows started and you were anxiously waiting in the wings for your turn. The energy was unmatched at this moment. The relief of finishing a show and going to take your bow. It was always your favorite part. You walked out on stage with your co-star and he took his bow first. Then it was your turn. The applause was wonderful. The house lights were brought up slightly, so you were able to see many of the faces in the crowd. Joost was standing and cheering like everyone around him, but for some reason, he caught your eye. He looked familiar to you, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You made eye contact with him in the audience for a moment, and you smiled sweetly. It was as if the world momentarily paused, and everything faded into the background. You continued looking through the crowd, smiling and waving.

After the show, Joost and his friends were back out on the streets walking back to their hotel. His friends were discussing the show and how they enjoyed it. But his mind was somewhere else. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He wanted to know more about you, and more importantly, he wanted to see you again. Once he made it back to his room, he showered and settled comfortably in bed. Though it was getting late, he wasn’t ready to go to sleep. So he grabbed his phone from the bedside stand and decided to do some harmless digging. He opened Instagram, and easily found your page since you used your name. He scrolled through some of your pictures.

The next morning the sun peeking through the curtains woke him up early. Rubbing his eyes, he turned over to the bedside table and picked up his phone. Squinting slightly, he opened his phone to search nearby cafes. There were a lot of options, but just picked one that was within walking distance. He got out of bed and went to the bathroom to freshen himself up. As he was brushing his teeth, his mind wandered back to you. Specifically, he thought about the very brief look you gave him last night. Of course, you could’ve been looking at anyone in the audience, but he was sure it was at him. He also swears that you smiled at him. And his mind races, replaying the moment over and over, each time finding new details to cherish; The way your eyes crinkle at the corners, the slight tilt of your head, the warmth radiating from your expression. That moment warms his heart whenever he thinks about it. He realized how long he was taking and quickly finished up. He stepped out of the bathroom and dug through his suitcase for something to wear. Once he put together an outfit he was happy with, he started to make his way to the cafe.

The walk to the cafe wasn’t bad. He enjoyed seeing the many sights of the city. The sun was out, warming everything up in contrast to the chill from last night. He put in his earbuds to avoid the overwhelming noises around him. On his way, he passed up many stores such as a bustling deli with a line going outside and a souvenir shop brimming with NYC memorabilia. He watched the signs carefully as he did not want to pass up his destination. It was a nice 10-minute walk before he finally made it. He almost missed it as it blended in with most of the other buildings surrounding it. When walking inside he was greeted by the smell of coffee and various baked goods. Looking around he saw that it wasn’t busy. Only a few people were in line and a handful of people sitting at various tables. Some are on their laptops, others just enjoying the atmosphere. It was rather quiet other than hushed conversations and orders being communicated. He stepped in line and read over the menu. While his mind was on the menu, he hadn’t noticed someone walking in. It was you. You wanted to grab a coffee before the matinee show. As you waited in line, you noticed who was in front of you. Although you were looking at the back of his head, you were almost sure it was Joost Klein. You started listening to his music recently and quickly became a fan. There was no way to know if it was him unless he turned around. You were too nervous to talk to him though, but you didn’t want to miss this opportunity. So you lightly tapped on his shoulder and he turned around, pulling his earphones out.

“Hi. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to want to say that I’m a fan of your music.” He stood there speechless, which made you more nervous. But what you didn’t know is that he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since last night, and now you were standing in front of him. Sure you were beautiful on stage, but he thought you were even prettier up close. There was a moment of silence between the both of you before he spoke.

“I saw you last night. In your show.” He smiled as he thought back to your performance. “You were amazing and you have a beautiful voice.”

You smiled sheepishly as you thanked him for the compliment. Then you think back to last night’s show. Specifically the bows and the man you made eye contact with. You looked at him, realizing that it was him.

“Wait. I think I remember seeing you in the audience.” At first, he was a bit shocked, but happy that you remembered the brief moment you both shared. “I couldn’t recognize you at first, I’ll admit. But now I’m happy to know it was you.” He chuckled.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you took it out, reading the message. Your director wanted to change something and needed you for rehearsal. You sighed before looking back up at him.

“I’m sorry but I have to go. Last minute rehearsal.” You were bummed that this interaction had to be cut short.

“Oh, that’s fine.” He didn’t want this to be the last time saw you. “Hey, can I get your number? I want to see you again.”

You nodded trying to contain your excitement. Him wanting to see you again made your heart flutter. You both exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you left the cafe. As you make your way through the bustling city, your phone vibrates again. You opened it, reading the message from an unknown number.

Good luck with your rehearsal today and the rest of your shows. I’d like to take you to dinner the next you're free.

You responded quickly.

I’d love that.

And that was all you could think for the rest of the day.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Misapprehensions and Confessions (part 2)

(moodboard creds to @sunshinebingo🥹)

Day 2: First Fight

Summary: It has been a regular routine for Gwyn to seek out the spymaster for training. And when he suggests helping her out with getting reaccustomed to society, it doesn't take too much persuasion for Gwyn to agree. But when he doesn't show up one day, Gwyn takes up the liberty to accompany herself into the city.

That one decision is all it takes for it all to fall apart.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 3943

Warnings: angst hehehe, misunderstanding, azzie is a dummy but sweetheart cassian is there to make you happy 💪🏻 a teensy bit of an argument, but i think thats it?

A/n: heres the second part for the mini series for day 2 of @sjmromanceweek❣️ writing the angst was so much fun honestly, LIKE IT GAVE ME LIFE 🥹🥹🥹

once again, it was so good doing this collab with my love @sunshinebingo 🥹 ily so much omg thank you for doing this w me😭🥹

Read on AO3 here

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Gwyn’s pov.

Next week came, but the Shadowsinger did not.

Gwyn had been waiting for almost an hour at their usual meet up spot in one of the sitting rooms in the House of Wind, having snagged a book from the library to flip through as she waited.

She had been excited for the meet up, to say the least. She couldn’t stop wondering where he was going to take her this time after going to the restaurant the previous week. The thought had kept her up all night as she twisted and turned in her sheets.

She had gone the extra mile while getting dressed up too, picking out the teal sweater Azriel had once mentioned made her eyes look brighter. Under that, she wore a pencil skirt with tights, having seen one of the females in Velaris wear something similar. She had thought the female looked pretty, and wanted to see what she looked like in it herself.

She continued to flip the pages of the book, reading and reading, smiling at the words. The story was cute, one of a female who was trying to save her family with the help of her siblings and friends, one of them being her love interest. The banter, the softness they shared made Gwyn long for a similar connection, if not more.

She loved the male love interest a lot, and the fact that he was so similar to one of her own friends did not go unnoticed by Gwyn.

Maybe she will have her own love story one day, with the friend she liked more than she should.

More than friends should like each other.

But with each moment that passed, her eyes stopped reading, and remained unseeing. The tilt of her lips fading as she got lost in her own head. She stared down at the soft, crinkling pages, running her fingers over the edges. They were painted in beautiful shades, depicting a scenery of a mountain from the book.

Pretty.

But not pretty enough to distract her from the absence of a certain Shadowsinger.

Footsteps drew Gwyn from her reverie, and she perked up, her gaze lading on the doors she had left ajar. Hope bloomed in her gut, even as she knew it was not the one she had been expecting coming closer to her.

The footsteps were too heavy, too powerful, to be his.

Still, she waited, she watched, she wished.

She hoped.

And a moment later, Cassian strutted into view, a smile gracing his face when he realised Gwyn was in the room. She returned the smile, willing her disappointment to vanish.

“Gwyn! Good seeing you here!” He paused behind the couch adjacent to the one Gwyn sat on. “I thought you might be down in Velaris, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Gwyn sighed, relaxing into the soft cushions behind her. “Yeah, I thought so too.”

His brows furrowed, and he quickly glanced around the room. “Where’s Az?”

She shrugged, setting the book aside and pushing to her feet. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s busy?”

Cassian’ confusion was palpable as he huffed. “He can never be busy enough to put off your dates.”

“We don’t go on dates.” Gwyn scowled. “They are outings.”

He simply smirked in return, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “Sure, right. My bad.”

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed as she watched him walk over to the balcony, dusting off her skirt absentmindedly. “Are you going somewhere?”

He glanced back at her, nodding. “Nesta’s at the river house with Feyre and Nyx. Gonna go pick her up.”

Gwyn chewed on her lip as she thought, then her eyes shot to him. “Hey Cass?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you take me down to the city?”

This time he turned to her fully, his brows high on his forehead. “I…what?”

Gwyn rolled her eyes, ignoring the new sadness taking root in her chest at the lack of those playful shadows and their quiet master’s presence. “Do you not want to?”

He took a step forward before pausing, extending his hand. “Oh no, no I would love to. I am just surprised, that’s all.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow, but moved closer to him to let him pick her up. By this point, she was comfortable enough with him that the spike of fear and anxiety no longer pierced her heart when he was in close proximity to her, and it was just another thing she was proud of herself for.

He gently wound his arms under her knees and back, careful to only touch her where needed, and flapped  his wings once. There was a reason the house built in the mountain was called the House of Wind, because as soon as he lifted from the ground, a powerful gust of wind caught under his wings and sent them soaring. He glided smoothly, his wing muscles beating effortlessly. Five centuries of flying practice truly showed in his skills.

Gwyn had once studied about wings and how they work, reading extensively about Illyrian ones. They had been so fascinating to her then, as they were fascinating to her now. The way they moved always had her mesmerized. Every time she flew with Azriel too, she would either always stare at his wings or the city down below.

Azriel.

Gwyn looked away from Cassian’s wings, instead casting her gaze downwards, towards the ground that rapidly grew closer as he descended. His feet touched the ground with a light thump before he bent slightly and set Gwyn on her feet.

“Are you sure about this, Gwyn?”

She turned to him, nodding. “I am. We go out every week so I can get accustomed to socialising once more.” And just because Gwyn was feeling petty, she added. “I’m not going to mess up my routine just because someone cannot be bothered to inform me before standing me up.”

Cassian’s lips parted, but then he closed them with an amused smirk. “Very proud of you, Gwyn.”

Though his expression was teasing, his words sounded so genuine they nearly brought Gwyn to tears.

“Thank you, Cass.”

“I will likely be here for an hour or two, depending on Nyx’s mood and who he is currently attached to today, so you can just come to the River House if you want to go back.” He clasped her shoulder, smiling. “And even if I’m up there, you can just ask Rhys to get me, yeah?”

Gwyn nodded gratefully. “Of course, thank you again.”

She waited until Cassian had turned away, waving in farewell as he climbed up the steps to one of the majestic houses of the High Lord.

Then she turned, and began wandering down the street.

She gazed at everything she passed by, unwilling to miss even a moment of the sheer beauty of Velaris. The shimmering waters of the Sidra, the golden shadows casted by the dying sun across the ground and the flora, the faelights bobbing gently over the entrances to shops and restaurants. Hawkers selling their wares, fruit stalls next to dessert stalls.

She walked without a destination in mind, her hand bent at a slight angle towards her thigh - where she had strapped her dagger under her skirt- involuntarily, the action muscle memory at this point.

She was lost in thought, wondering what could have been so important that Azriel had not even bothered to inform her. It could have been that he was on an important mission, and that he had no way to contact her. It could have been that he had almost completely forgotten.

Gwyn didn’t know. But she did know that she was mad, and she would not forgive him until he had grovelled enough.

The moment she had the thought, guilt followed. What if he truly was busy and if he had taken time off to send her a letter, he could have been in danger?

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought as she glanced around her. She felt tired already, so bored out of her mind without him. She had no idea what she even wanted to do anymore. It would have been better if she had stayed home and completed her projects for Merrill.

Home.

It was such a beautiful, comforting word. The word that had meant nothing to Gwyn for years after her sister was taken from her. It was just that, a word. No meaning, no feelings.

But for quite some time now, since she had met Nesta, since the day Gwyn had dragged herself to the training ring, telling herself over and over that she would be fine, better even, that Cassan would not hurt her, that he wasn’t that kind of a male, a male pathetic enough to force females to feel better about his own self, the word had taken on a new meaning.

Gwyn had learned that home meant more than just four walls and a roof. Home meant friends. Home meant laughing over trivial things, freely and loudly. Home meant warmth.

Home meant Azriel.

She didn’t know when, or how, but slowly, he had become the definition of friend, the laughter, the warmth that made a home, home.

And slowly, the intimidating, lonely walls that had kept her from the scary outside world became so much more.

It was almost dark, the horizon tinting darker and darker with each passing moment, when Gwyn stumbled upon the restaurant that Azriel had taken her to the previous week.

She smiled at the sight of those pristine walls, the memories that surfaced threatening to make her giggle. She walked on, passing by the entrance, the beautiful stars leading up to it.

And she caught a whiff of the smell she had become so familiar with.

It caused her bones to freeze, her muscles stiffening as she turned her head to look.

The interior was still dark, so different compared to the outside. Soft aroma of chicken, rice, herbs, everything drifted out, mixing into such a sweet smell that it would be impossible to not go in.

But yet, under that, was the smell of cedar, of night, of shadows.

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed, and she had only taken a step up the stairs when she saw him.

Past the reception, past a number of tables and chairs and candles, he sat.

At the same spot he had sat with Gwyn.

With the same smile on his face, his eyes soft. His hand under his chin, his lips tilted as he nodded.

At a female. The chair Gwyn had occupied merely seven days ago was now occupied by a female.

She looked like a complete opposite of her.

Curly blonde hair piled spilled down her shoulders, her eyes and skin the prettiest shade of brown. Her figure was curvy, soft, sweet. So unlike Gwyn.

The female wore a strapless tight fitting dress, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

She looked so comfortable, so confident, Gwyn wondered why she ever thought she even stood a chance with Azriel. Of course he’d be interested in someone who was confident in herself, someone who wasn’t afraid to know and show she was pretty.

His words from the previous week floated around in her head amidst the confusion and hurt, solidifying her new beliefs.

“So you like it?”

“Of course I like it! Anyone would love this place. It is so beautiful.”

Had she been only a friend who he wanted the opinion of to impress the female he was actually interested in? Just a guinea pig?

Gwyn’s eyes prickled, and she took a step away, as if simply the sight of Azriel touching the other female’s hand - smiling secretively, his eyes hooded and seductive- would burn her.

Yet she couldn’t look away, not until someone bumped into her shoulder, apologising profusely. She didn’t even look at the fae. She bowed her head in acknowledgement before willing her legs to move. Hoping to leave before Azriel’s shadows - who for some reason were so attuned to her every move that she would find them anywhere she went - reported her presence to their master.

She moved through the thickening crowds, laughing children and flirting adults. Kept pushing herself to walk, to run, back to the River House. She needed to go back. She knew she could not handle any interactions, especially one with Azriel if he found her before she could drown herself in work.

Just when the house came into sight, she slowed down, blinking hard and regulating her breathing. She could see activity inside the house, soft warm light spilling onto the grass under the windows and the porch leading up to the main door, which opened just as she went to knock.

“Gwyn?” Nesta stared at her wide eyed, brows high in surprise.

“Um, hey Nesta.” Gwyn swallowed uneasily.

Instantly, Nesta was alert. “What happened? Did someone do something? Where’s Azriel?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you Nes. I think Az forgot about their date and Gwyn went into the city alone.” Cassian’s voice answered before Gwyn could, and for that she was grateful, as she wasn’t feeling particularly excited to speak.

Nesta’s eyes hardened as she glanced at her mate. “He mentioned he was going out with a female. Did he not inform you? ” She turned to glare at Gwyn. “And even if he forgot, why the hell did you-”

“Nesta, she is not a child.”

Gwyn’s blood went hot, anger simmering through each vein as she realised he really was on a date. And he had told Nesta, but not her.

She would kill him.

Nesta opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think the better of it and just pulled Gwyn into a hug. “What happened, Gwyn? Why do you look so spooked?”

Gwyn shook her head as best as she could in her friend’s embrace, her heart finally slowing down slightly at the comforting touch. “Nothing, really. I just got a bit… anxious, that’s all. I just want to go back up.”

Nesta pulled away, nodding and turned to Cassian. “Drop her off at the house please, I can wait.”

“Nesta- no-”

The glare Gwyn received in return was enough to shut her up as Cassian picked her into his arms like she weighed nothing, then shot into the sky.

“She really is scary sometimes, no?”

Gwyn huffed, her lips tilting in a surprised smile. “She was mad when we first met too.”

He laughed, his chest vibrating against Gwyn’s upper arm as she kept her arms folded close to her chest. He quieted after that, his focus solely on the mountain that loomed over them.

He flew towards the main sitting room, which they all used most of the time, as far as Gwyn knew.

But he was not Azriel, and the sitting room was not close to the library.

Just another reminder of how considerate, how attentive Azriel had always been to her. Of how he forgot about her today.

But no, she wouldn’t spend her day thinking about him anymore. Not when he couldn’t even bother to let her know he was going on a real date.

That he was ditching her for the one who he actually wanted.

She bid a goodbye to Cassian, not waiting to see him fly off before she retreated to the dorm she shared with her fellow priestesses, pulling out the large tomes she had been assigned to read through and summarise.

But she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus.

Not with him occupying her thoughts.

Az's pov

Something was wrong. 

Azriel had considered many things in order to understand what was bothering him so much. 

Last night's mission had gone fine; the female he had to seduce to get important intel an easy one to flirt with to get her to talk, even when his entire being had recoiled at his sweet talking and his suggestive touches. Even his shadows had felt uncomfortable and had hissed after every few minutes of the interaction. But it had been a necessity for his job, his duty towards his court. The accomplishment of this mission should have filled him with relief and a sense of freedom from something he had felt reluctant towards from the start. But still…

Rhys and Feyre had thanked him for the information he had gathered that day. Azriel didn't need their thanks for having done something that was expected of him, although having the validation of his High Lord and Lady had been nice. But still…

Something was wrong. 

You know what, one of his shadows whispered. The only one that had bothered speaking to him since his mission with that female. All the others were still oddly silent, leaving that one - the same one which had always favoured Gwyn since they all met her - to occasionally use its voice to throw some scathing comments at him.

Azriel sighed after one of his daggers hit one of the dummies in the training ring. 

“Yes. I know,” he muttered, even with no one but the moon and his silent shadows to hear him.

At least he thought.

Footsteps sounded at the doorway, before the source of Azriel’s troubled mind walked onto the training area. An intense wave of emotion washed over him; hope, relief, joy, excitement…awe.

Gwyn looked breathtaking under the starry sky, the night making her look even more fierce as she walked determinedly to the weapons rack clad in skin tight leathers.

Azriel stood still for a moment, unable to move as he watched his shadows - every single one of them - rush to her. Gwyn giggled at their excited dance around her. He heard her whisper something to them but couldn't make out what it was. He mentally called for his shadows to come back to him. None listened. 

“Uh… hey,” he finally blurted out.

Gwyn turned to him then. Azriel felt a heavy weight drop in his stomach at the apathetic look in her eyes. His heart constricted with fear and worry, so much that he immediately began walking towards her.

“What happe-”

“Hi,” she cut his question off. Her dry tone stopped him in his tracks.

“Are you alright?”

Something flickered in her eyes for a second before she turned her back to him, took a deep breath in, then out, and picked up a few daggers from the rack. 

“I'm fine,” she gritted out without looking at him.

Azriel frowned in confusion.

The hell she was.

He hadn't seen her at training this morning, hadn't caught a single glimpse of her anywhere for the entire day, hadn't heard the sound of her voice. And now that she was here before him, the usual light missing from her eyes and her posture stiff as though from restraint, she dared say that she was fine?

Gwyn walked past him, his shadows trailing behind, and stopped a distance away from the dummies in which the daggers he had thrown earlier were still embedded.

He followed.

“You can lie to anyone about this, Gwyn, but you can't deceive me.”

Her first dagger flew and landed in a dummy's throat. She let out a humorless laugh.

“Is this tonight's lesson then? Lies and deception?”

She threw another dagger, this one lodging itself in the centre of the dummy's chest.

Azriel looked at Gwyn from head to toe, hoping to find answers to the growing mystery unfolding before him. He desperately wished to know what was happening to her. He needed to make her feel better. Azriel needed his Gwyn back.

“Gwyn please,” he took a few steps until he stood right in front of her. His shadows remained closer to her. “What is happening?”

The sadness that darkened her eyes as she looked at him made him feel like the dummy, this invisible weapon sinking straight into his heart. It twisted deeper inside him with the tears that he noticed pooling in her eyes.

He brought a hand up and cupped her cheek. “My Gwyn,” he whispered, unaware that it had made it out of his mouth. 

Her teal eyes fixed on his hazel ones, searching. For what, he did not know? But he was certain that he was ready to give her anything. Before he could give in to the urge to pull her into his arms, anger flashed on her face. 

She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away. 

“Don't,” she said as she put more distance between them. 

Azriel didn't hear what she murmured to his shadows due to the beating of his heart resonating in his ears and which drowned out every other sound. He didn't even acknowledge them slithering back to him. He only watched Gwyn run away and disappear through the doorway. 

Azriel stood there, frozen and stunned. Until he felt his shadows smack him in the face, their shadowy forms conveniently solid for a task like this. 

Idiot master, hissed the one shadow.

Is that all you have to say? He scowled at it. What would have been more helpful was if they told him what was wrong and how he could fix things with Gwyn. But that was apparently not in their plans. 

I'm going with her, was all it said before it floated away. The others stayed. They remained silent, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts. 

The conversation - or was it an argument? He wasn't sure - replayed over and over in his head, even as he descended the stairs down into the House of Wind. He was so distracted that he didn't notice Cassian until he almost crashed into the chair he sat in at the living room table.

“Whoa! You alright here brother?” Cass asked, his mouth full of the cake he had a huge slice of on his plate. 

Azriel pulled the chair next to Cassian and sat down. He pulled Cassian’s plate towards him and snatched his fork right out of his hand.

“I'm fine,” he said. He winced at the memory of those same words coming from Gwyn. The dread he hadn't realised he had been feeling worsened at the mere thought of her name. 

He dug into Cassian's midnight snack, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth.

“You don't have anything to do with Gwyn rushing down the stairs to the library like the house is on fire do you?” Cassian stared at him with raised brows.

Azriel looked at him. “What…?” was all he managed to ask with his full mouth.

What is happening to her, to us? What did I do? How do I fix this? 

His shadows still remained silent.

Cassian stared at him while rubbing his chin.

“Listen, I'm only asking because she hasn't seemed well since she went out alone yesterday.”

Azriel suddenly felt like he was swallowing stones. “What?” he asked incredulously. 

What is he talking about? 

His shadows did not answer him again. But Cassian thankfully did.

“She insisted that she didn’t mind you missing one of your dates,” he put the last word between air quotes, “but her face told another story.”

Cassian kept talking, telling him how Gwyn had looked when she had joined them at the River House after.

Something clicked inside him. The fork he held fell on the table, its clatter echoing in the room.

Finally, his shadows muttered collectively.

“You're more dense than I thought.” Cassian shook his head, disappointment lacing his words as he dragged the plate back to him.

Azriel’s eyes widened. His heart pounded in his chest. His mind raced in panic.

He fucked up. And now he was paying for it, he realised. He needed to fix this. He had to if he wanted Gwyn back. And Azriel was willing to do anything.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[bunji-enthusiast]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙨

Haven’t really seen anything for Rae (x reader wise) just yet sooo… I wrote something super quick with her and red hood!reader. your gender is up to you :}

It wasn't often that there was any sort of recreational break for the supers in the world of aliens, super-powered and genius beings. All equating to mass destruction and death threats every single week, the toll it takes is immense without a doubt.

So you, an infamous vigilante decided to take it upon yourself to take your girlfriend out to a proper date. Something sweet and casual, without all the constant worrying over if 'I'm going to be next' or 'I can't keep doing this.'

"what even are you doing?" Rachel grins, trying to stifle a laugh at your actions. You just perk up with a lop-sided smile, jabbing a pointer finger and deftly wagging it.

"just watch okay? promise yer gonna like it." You reply, tugging out the ends of the picnic blanket.

"okay, okay." She concedes, crossing her arms as you continue fluffing out the blanket. Trying to ensure each and every crevice was perfect, then moving onto with laying out the plates and the food. It was all very domestic, surprisingly. Not unlike your usual vibe.

How did this just happen? You sent the shrinking hero a message of course, one of your rare, dumb but adorable ones. Normally you would send short---curt messages, however, what you sent this time was what really had her.

Heyyy, uh. Can you come over here if you got a minute? got something I think you'll like. :))))

Safe to say that she was absolutely caught off guard by that, but Rachel wouldn't have missed out on something like this. Besides, the effort was nice, not so... chaotic in the midst of what it's like being a guardian of the globe.

You were indefinitely wrapped up in your efforts to make sure the layout was perfect, okay enough to sit down on. You then stood back up with a triumphant stance, hands balled up, resting on your hips. "There we go, this is our little lunch for the afternoon."

She giggles, taking easy strides over to the setup as you grin at her; clearly very proud of your efforts. Also simultaneously embarrassed, but you went through with it. No turning back.

You know what it was like having your life on the near brink of death damn near everyday, but it was something you committed yourself to. Rachel on the other hand just borderline lived with this lifestyle her whole life thanks to her parents, from what you knew. But you held commendable respect for the woman, despite her fear against each and every villain, she does her best.

And you like to think; you do your best too.

it's not as if you were a complete stone cold asshole, you were still human too. One of your graces was being able to protect others, Rachel in particular. While you were initially reluctant and closed off, afraid to form bonds with others. She just... stood out to you, your heart was just enraptured by her beauty and humane kindness immediately. It genuinely confused you how she was here in a place like this, being a hero. She deserved so much more, live a life the way she wanted to.

Though it was obviously her choice, her terms. So for now, you'd support her, and take care of her when neccessary. It was in your nature, as much as you tried to push that part of you away. That fractured piece of your human nature eventually made its way back thanks to her, it was like she was a missing piece to the puzzle you've mulled over for so many years.

You sit down at her side, taking off your signature helmet. "Hope it's good, cause... I practiced like a shit-ton to make sure it wasn't horrible to taste." You admit shyly, rubbing the back of your neck. She simply nods, her eyes softening with affection. Her hand reaches for yours, and you take it, interlocking fingers.

"its fine," She mentions your name. "thank you." You return the sentiment with a small tilt of your head.

"Im glad."

[knoepfl]

Hello! I hope you are well. I absolutely adored your Bobble fic it was so freaking cute. Sadly there are not enough writers who write for him. I never requested an imagine so I hope it is okay if I ask you if you could write another Bobble fic. Maybe where he likes y/n but is too shy to admit it because he thinks he is not good enough (maybe because she is not a Tinker or whatever you like). And his friends have to encourage him to confess and a sweet kiss scene at the end! If you don't want to do it then it's fine, I understand :)

Greetings from Germany ^.^

Heyy! Thank you so much for this request! I love writing for Bobble and I do not really have any ideas anymore so I'm very happy to see people like him. ^^ I had a lot of fun writing this and I also feel very special to know I'm the first one to recieve a request from you and to know I have people from Germany who like my writing! I'm also from Germany so I say: vielen Dank und ich hoffe du schreibt noch mehr Ideen! <3

Shy and Sweet

Characters:

• Bobble – A shy and inventive Tinker Fairy who struggles with self-doubt but is deeply caring and devoted. He expresses his feelings through his inventions rather than words.

• Reader (Garden Fairy) – A kind, warm-hearted Garden Fairy with a love for plants and a gentle, shy nature. She admires Bobble but fears she is imagining his feelings.

• Tinker Bell – Bobble’s supportive but slightly mischievous friend who pushes him to confess his feelings. She acts as a motivator and comic relief.

• Clank – Bobble’s best friend, well-meaning but not very subtle. Encourages Bobble and adds humor to the story.

Trigger Warnings:

• Low self-esteem/Self-doubt – Bobble struggles with feelings of inadequacy, believing he is not good enough for the Garden Fairy.

• Mild anxiety – Both characters experience nervousness and insecurity when confessing their feelings.

• Mentions of spying (for comedic effect) – Tinker Bell and Clank eavesdrop on Bobble’s confession, though it is portrayed humorously.

Masterlist

Words: 1454

---- Bobble had always believed that every fairy had a purpose. Tinker fairies built, fixed, and invented—working behind the scenes to ensure Pixie Hollow functioned smoothly. That was his role, and he loved it.

But when it came to her, the fairy he admired more than anything, he felt completely and utterly useless.

She wasn’t a Tinker. She was a Garden Fairy, full of warmth and grace, with soil-stained hands that somehow made her even more beautiful. Every time she laughed, it was like the first light of dawn breaking through the trees. Bobble had never been very good with words, but if he could build something to capture the way she made him feel, it would be the most delicate, most breathtaking invention he had ever created.

The problem was… he wasn’t brave enough to tell her.

And so, he showed his feelings in the only way he knew how.

Whenever she struggled with something—like carrying heavy bags of seeds or finding a way to water delicate sprouts without crushing them—Bobble would show up with an invention. A specially crafted seed dispenser, a tiny sprinkler that mimicked raindrops, a sun-powered lantern for her late-night gardening. Each time, she would smile so brightly at him, and he’d feel like his wings might stop working altogether.

But that was enough, right? Just seeing her happy?

At least, that’s what he told himself—until Tinker Bell found out.

“You like her?”

Bobble nearly dropped the handful of gears he had been holding. He turned to see Tinker Bell standing behind him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in knowing amusement.

“W-what? Who?” Bobble stammered, fumbling with his goggles.

Tink rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bobble. You’re always making her little gifts. You get all flustered whenever she’s around. You’re in love with her.”

Bobble swallowed hard. The words made his heart stutter.

“I-I wouldn’t say love, exactly,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… she’s amazin’, Tink. She’s got this way of makin’ everything feel brighter, like the whole of Pixie Hollow is just a wee bit warmer when she’s around.”

Tink’s expression softened. “So why haven’t you told her?”

Bobble sighed and turned back to his worktable, fiddling with a small, half-finished pendant made from tiny silver gears.

“Because she deserves someone… better.” His voice was quieter now. “Someone who knows how to say all the right things. Not just some clumsy Tinker with big glasses and—”

“Bobble.” Tinker Bell placed a firm hand on his shoulder, cutting him off. “You are good enough. She already likes you—you’re just too scared to see it.”

Bobble blinked at her. “You really think so?”

Tink smirked. “I know so.”

Clank, who had been listening in the background, suddenly clapped Bobble on the back so hard he nearly toppled over. “Go tell her, mate! Or I will!”

Bobble’s wings twitched nervously. Tell her?

Could he really do that?

That evening, as the sky melted into hues of pink and lavender, Bobble found her near the Pixie Dust Tree. She was kneeling by a patch of moonflowers, gently coaxing the delicate petals open with the soft glow of pixie dust.

His heart hammered in his chest.

“You always make that look so easy,” he said before he could lose his nerve.

She turned, smiling at him. “Bobble! What brings you here?”

He hesitated, then stepped forward, clutching the small pendant he had been working on all day.

“I, uh, I made somethin’ for you,” he said, holding it out with trembling fingers.

She took it carefully, eyes widening as she examined the intricate silver petals. “Bobble, it’s beautiful.”

Bobble swallowed hard. His pulse pounded in his ears. This was it.

“I—there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to say,” he admitted, voice shaking. “I—I like you. A lot. I have for a long time.”

Silence stretched between them. His hands clenched into fists, bracing for rejection.

But then, she smiled. That smile. The one that made him feel like he was flying even when his feet were on the ground.

“Oh, Bobble…” She stepped closer, reaching for his hands. “I like you too.”

Bobble’s breath hitched. “You do?”

Instead of answering, she leaned in, pressing a soft, warm kiss to his cheek.

His entire body went still. His wings fluttered wildly, his goggles nearly slipping off his nose. Somewhere in the distance, Clank let out a loud whoop, and Tink’s laughter rang through the air.

Bobble barely heard them. All he could focus on was the fairy in front of him, smiling at him, choosing him.

---

Bobble’s heart pounded as she pulled away, her soft lips still lingering on his cheek in the form of a warm, fluttery sensation. His wings twitched so fast he thought he might lift off the ground without meaning to.

She had kissed him.

She liked him.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His brain had completely stopped working.

She must have noticed, because she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a nervous little laugh. “U-um… was that okay?”

Bobble blinked rapidly, his face heating up. “Okay? I—uh—I mean, aye, it was more than okay! It was—” He let out a high-pitched laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—uh—wow.”

Her cheeks turned a soft pink as she fidgeted with the pendant he had given her. “I’ve been hoping you’d tell me how you felt for a while…” she admitted shyly, looking down at the little silver flower in her hands. “But I didn’t want to say anything first. I was worried maybe I was imagining it.”

Bobble’s jaw nearly dropped. “You were worried?”

She nodded, her wings fluttering nervously. “You’re so talented, Bobble. Always inventing these amazing things, helping everyone… I thought maybe you just saw me as a friend.”

Bobble felt like his heart might burst. “Oh, lass,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea.”

Before he could stop himself, he gently took her hands in his, squeezing them as he looked into her eyes. “I’ve liked you for so long. I just thought you deserved someone… someone better than a clumsy Tinker like me.”

She gasped softly, shaking her head. “Bobble, don’t say that.”

His breath hitched as she took a small step closer. “You’re kind,” she whispered. “And clever. And you always know how to make me smile.” Her fingers curled around his. “I don’t want someone else.”

Bobble felt like his wings had stopped working entirely.

Then, as if realizing how bold she had just been, she suddenly looked away, cheeks burning. “I-I mean, um… if you still like me, that is…”

Bobble let out a breathless chuckle, his heart swelling with adoration. “Aye. I still like you,” he murmured, barely believing this was real.

She peeked up at him through her lashes, and something about the way she looked—so shy, yet so happy—made Bobble’s heart skip a beat.

Before he could even think about it, he lifted her hand and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to her knuckles.

She gasped, eyes going wide, and Bobble immediately panicked. “Oh! Was that—was that too much? Did I—”

But she only giggled, hiding her face behind her hands as her wings fluttered wildly. “N-no! I just… I wasn’t expecting that…”

Bobble grinned, feeling a new sense of confidence bubble up in his chest. “Good surprise, then?”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her smile soft and full of warmth. “The best.”

A loud CRASH suddenly sounded from the bushes behind them, making both of them jump.

Bobble turned just in time to see Clank stumble out from behind a tree, looking sheepish. Tinker Bell hovered beside him, arms crossed, shaking her head.

“Oops,” Clank muttered, his large hands fumbling to straighten his vest. “Didn’t mean to fall outta the bush.”

Bobble groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Were you spyin’ on us?”

Tinker Bell smirked, not looking the least bit guilty. “Spying is a strong word. I’d call it… making sure you didn’t back out.”

Clank beamed. “And makin’ sure ya finally kissed!”

Bobble’s face turned bright red. “I didn’t kiss—” He stopped, glancing at the fairy beside him, who was now covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Tinker Bell raised an eyebrow. “Not yet.”

Bobble’s heart practically stopped. His eyes darted back to the girl next to him, and to his surprise, her own cheeks were red as well.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, shyly, hesitantly, she reached for his hand again.

Bobble’s breath caught.

And as she leaned in—closer, closer—he finally let his eyes flutter shut.

And when her lips softly brushed his, it was more magical than anything he could have ever invented. ----

[greedandenby]

What are your favorite scenes or moments from Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid in IWTV? :) Could be separately or together or both.

Hi nonny!

Oooh that's a tough one. I'm going to have to show restraint since I love absolutely all of it unconditionally...

But to narrow it down i'll pick one from each season.

First, Jacob.

I've said this many times, but there's one scene in s1 where i'll never stop marvelling at the subtlety of his acting. It's the scene where Daniel questions Louis about what Claudia meant to him. Daniel posits that she was "a band-aid for a shitty marriage", to which Louis answers "I was going to say... something else". And that hesitation in his line delivery just breaks me every single time.

For s2, i'm going to go with Louis' return to NOLA, when he's in the cab. He slips back into his Louisiana accent and rolls down the window to breathe in the familiar scent of his hometown, and it's a truly beautiful moment. It says so much about Louis and showcases, once again, the subtlety and power of Jacob's performance. Less is more. (also he's especially gorgeous in this scene, ngl).

Now, Sam.

In s1, i'm going to go with a traumatic one (sorry). His monologue about his turning. So much comes through in this performance. The push and pull between Lestat's deep-seated trauma and the layers of pride it's hidden under. Sam GETS Lestat in ways that few actors ever could. And that scene showcases that very well, as well as being a masterclass in acting.

In s2, i have to go with the bedroom scene with Louis and Armand. The way Dreamstat reacts to their love is just priceless and Sam's comedic timing and delivery are a testament to his versatility as an actor. The way he mockingly delivers the "i love you" line cracks me up every time.

Now for Jacob and Sam. As an eternal Loustat shipper and Jam enthusiast, this is torture, ngl.

For S1, i'll go with the obvious and brain-empty choice: their first love scene. I mean, c'mon, I CHEERED when Louis lunged to kiss Lestat, and i'm pretty sure I heard everyone cheer from across the seas. It felt like such a deliverance after decades of queerbaiting. And the way they look at each other afterwards? Oooof. It single-handedly cemented Sam and Jacob's chemistry as one of the greatest to ever grace our screens.

For S2, i'm also going to go with the obvious one. The reunion scene is simply unforgettable. Both their performances are out of this world (esp considering they only had two takes to nail it). Heartfelt, heartbreaking and heart-mending all at once. It takes the trust these two (creative) partners have in each other to achieve these levels of vulnerability, and it paid off.

Here's to season 3 and many more scenes to pick faves from!

[hunnysnoops]

₊˚｡⋆❆ 𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 ❆⋆｡˚₊

Chapter One: Wolves Without Teeth

Kenny McCormick x fem reader

You hover like a hummingbird, haunt me in my sleep. You're sailing from another world, sinking in my sea. You're feeding on my energy. I'm letting go of it, he wants it. 

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: A collision at the ice rink leaves you with a gnarly bruise and a hockey player who is quick to be infatuated. Kenny McCormick takes it upon himself to be the first to break you out of your shell.

Warnings: brief mention of injury / crude language

MASTERLIST

Moving to the middle of the rink, you and Craig get ready to begin your routine. As the familiar song begins to play, you inhale deeply and pay attention to the beat. Craig looks up at you and nods reassuringly. Everything about this has been overdone to the point it doesn’t make you nervous: the rise and fall of your chest, cold air stinging your skin, the only warmth in the arena rests between you and Craig. With a series of elegant moves, you start off by cutting smooth lines into the ice with your blades. Every motion is intentional, a precise dexterity you attain from day after day trying to reach something close to perfection.

As you glide into the first lift, you feel Craig's hands firmly grasp your waist. With a practiced ease, he lifts you high, and you stretch your arms and legs, creating a perfect line. You savour the feeling of weightlessness so you might taste it later. He lowers you gently, and you land seamlessly, continuing into a series of synchronized spins.

"Nice," Katya calls from the side of the rink where she watched the two of you with her arms crossed, picking apart each and every movement. She was an ex-champion from Sweden, and now she coached figure skating in Colorado "Craig, get your knee deeper." 

Barely even thinking, Craig does as he's told and lunges further. You had been skating with Craig for the past nine years though you didn't talk much he was what you considered to be your only friend who was your age. He had been the sole human to show up to your barren birthday parties since fourth grade. All of your trust poured into him, with every leap and scratch of your blade slicing across the ice. 

Each step of the routine builds on the one before it with ease. You perform a sequence of deft footwork, your blades clicking quickly and rhythmically on the ice. Craig perfectly mimics your movements and stands by you, steadying you with his hands. You two loop around the rink, hitting every mark of the choreography with ease.

As the music swells, you prepare for the jump sequence. You've practiced this countless times far too many times to hold any nerves over it. "Don't rush it, hold your edge longer," Katya shouts, accent thick. You approach the takeoff point, feeling Craig's presence close beside you. With a powerful push, you launch into the air, twisting and turning with grace. The landing is smooth, and you immediately transition into a spin, feeling the centrifugal force pulling at you.

Craig moves into position for the final lift. You gather your strength and leap, offering your faith to him completely. His hands are strong and steady as he lifts you high above his head. The audience, though imaginary today, would be breathless. You extend your arms, holding the pose for a beat before he brings you back down.

The routine ends with a dramatic flourish. You and Craig strike the final pose where his hands are secured on the small of your back as you lull backwards until your head is inches away from the ice, breathing hard but exhilarated. The music fades, and the rink is silent again. You catch your breath, face red, Craig skates in a little circle, one hand gripping his black hair. 

"Good job," You smile holding your hand up for a high five. Craig eyes you for a second before caving and gliding over to land his hand over yours. 

"Beautiful work," Katya smiles brightly at the winded pair of you. She looks down at her watch biting her lip "I wanted to do some strength work but we went a little over time so just do your cooldowns and head out, we'll pick this up tomorrow."

"Craig's strong enough," You tease though Katya doesn't seem to take it that way.

She shakes her head "There is always work to be done. The day you stop pushing yourself is the day you fail." 

"Oh," You glance at Craig "Um, okay." You probably spoke more at practice than you did anywhere else which wasn't saying much as you preferred to keep your thoughts to yourself on most days. 

You move into a series of gentle stretches, reaching down to touch your toes, and feeling the pull along your hamstrings. The cool air of the rink mingles with the heat of your exertion. You extend one leg behind you, leaning forward to stretch your back and shoulders, thinking back to the routine you performed only minutes ago you think of all the things you could improve on and make a mental list that you will soon put onto paper. 

You had butchered your cool down, trying to leave as soon as possible. Right after your nightly sessions a group of rowdy hockey players would swarm the rink careless of whether you were still in there or not and it wasn't particularly something you were fond of. 

Craig, on the other side of the rink, begins his own routine. He skates slowly, his strides long and deliberate, a stark contrast to the intense moves from earlier. He stops and bends down, touching the ice with his fingers, and stretching his long legs and back. 

You notice Craig moving into some balance exercises, lifting one leg behind him and holding his arms out for stability. It's a simple move, but one that requires focus and control, skills he's perfected over years of practice. You can see the concentration on his face, and the way he fine-tunes his posture and alignment like the world would end if he stumbled.

You slink off the ice and slip guards on over your blades, not wanting to risk any damage from the rubber or accidentally set your blade on something one of the hockey players left behind. The walls are adorned with colourful banners celebrating local hockey teams, figure skaters, and upcoming events. Scuffed benches line the corridor, providing a spot for spectators and players to rest or lace up their skates. As you peer down the corridor, your fears are proven to be true. 

Sitting down long rows of benches or standing up and blocking the halls is the hockey team that you were so careful to avoid. Quickly you begin to unlace your skates, hurriedly grabbing your duffle bag from your locker and tucking the skates inside. 

Of course, they line themselves up perfectly to block the entrance. It wasn't the people themselves that you were irritated by but how loud they were when they were all together. Even when your headphones were in and the volume turned to the max you could still hear them yelling and cackling no matter where you were in the building. 

The best part of winter was how the snow acted like soundproofing for the whole world and made everything really quiet though the hockey team was quick to cancel that out with their crude jokes. Aside from Craig's boyfriend, you hadn't spoken to anyone on the team as far as you knew. 

Their bulky gear makes the narrow passage even tighter. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and take a deep breath, weaving your way through the crowd.

"Excuse me," you say politely, trying to slip past them. The boys are engrossed in their conversation, their roughhousing spilling over into your path. One of the boys pushes his friend onto you and has you stumbling away, trying to keep your balance. 

Just as you think you've made it through, one of them swings his hockey stick at the punchline of a joke, not noticing you. The butt end of the stick catches you squarely in the stomach, the impact knocking the wind out of you. The pain is immediate and intense. It's not just a surface-level ache but a deep, visceral throb that spreads outward from the point of impact. Your breath catches in your throat, and a gasp escapes your lips as you double over instinctively, clutching your stomach.

The laughter stops immediately, and the boy who hit you looks horrified. His blue eyes are filled with instant regret as they draw wide. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” he exclaims, rushing to your side. His friends gather around, awkwardly glancing around at each other. 

"It's fine," You say through laboured breaths. It definitely was not fine. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry. You nod, still trying to catch your breath. He gently helps you up, his hands finally finding a firm grip on your arm and shoulder. As you stand, you notice the way he's looking at you, his eyes studying the features of your face. 

For a moment, he's stunned, his gaze locked on your face. In the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway, he takes in the delicate curve of your jaw, the light glinting off your eyes, and the way your hair frames your face, slightly disheveled but pretty nonetheless. He seems momentarily lost, his apology stuck in his throat as he's struck by you up close.

He recognized you as Craig's partner and the girl he passed in the hallway who wouldn't spare him a glance, he tried to approach you on several occasions but your headphones were always in and you didn't even notice him trying to talk to you through the music blasting in your ears, leaving him humbled. He had his eyes on you for a while,  you were what his little sister referred to as a hallway crush- someone he thought was attractive when he saw you in passing but had never properly spoken to. 

The pain and shock have left you somewhat dazed, and his sudden proximity only intensifies that feeling. You pull your arm away from his grip "Please don't touch me." 

"Do you want-

"No," You dismiss him before he even starts "It's fine." Despite the pain gnawing at your stomach, you manage to shoulder your duffle bag and hurridly stagger out of the exit

Kenny blinks, snapping out of his daze and running a hand through his blonde shaggy hair. "I'm so sorry," he calls after you, his voice more earnest now though his eyes travel down your body and take in the way your leggings cling to your legs.

Stan abruptly smacks him on the arm, it is still felt through the padding "You are such a dick, Kenny."

"What?" He swerves his head to look at Stan "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to stare at her ass?"

"Um, yes?" He had spent months trying to talk to you when you didn't have headphones in, and now that moment finally happened he had fumbled so badly that it was over before it even started. 

"Kenny, that is not what happened," Stan calls out his friend's incredibly incorrect account of the night before. The school hallways were far from barren, students rushed back and forth, slamming their lockers shut and hunting down their friends.

"So what actually happened?" Kyle asked, digging through his locker, back turned to his friends.

"Kenny hit her," Stan says.

"Why would you hit her?"

"I didn't mean to," Kenny retorts, "I was making a joke and I accidentally hit her with my stick."

"He was making a joke and fucking winded her," Stan corrects.

"She was not winded-

"She was keeling over, clutching her stomach, and coughing." He remembered getting sucker punched by Shelly right beneath his ribs and imagined that you were feeling something similar when you were hit. "Oh and then she asked him not to touch her."

"I wouldn't want this freak touching me either if I were her," Kyle shoves a textbook into his backpack and zips it up.

"What do you mean by that?" Kenny furrows his eyebrows though is question goes unanswered.

"Hey Slumlord, Jewrat, Stan," Cartman disrupts the conversation, joining their little circle in the hallway "What's going on?"

"Kenny hit a girl," Stan says.

"Nice man," Cartman gives Kenny a firm pat on the back, leaving Kyle to wrinkle his nose in distaste.

"Dude, stop, I actually feel bad about it," Kenny says, chewing the inside of his mouth, thoughts focused on the little glimpses he caught of you.

"No, you don't," Kyle slings his backpack on after grabbing his phone from a pocket "You just want to get laid."

"Why can't it be both?" He was almost wistful.

"Who's this chick you're in love with?" Cartman asked. Lately, he wasn't as up-to-date on his friend's matters as he'd like to be, being left out of an inside joke to him was a fate worse than death.

"This girl who skates with Craig," Kenny shoves his hands into the pockets of his old warn jeans. Part of him was regretting leaving his jacket in his locker, winter in Colorado was cold no matter if you were inside or not "And I'm not in love with her, I just like looking at her."

"Maybe talk about this with someone as gross as you," Kyle doesn't bother to look up from his game of Candy Crush, he had an addiction though he would never admit to it. He would act oblivious whenever someone asked him if he was playing it.

Something catches Kenny's eye, you brush past the group without even casting them a glance. Kenny excuses himself and trails behind you, trying to catch your attention.

As you stand at your locker, the music blaring in your ears serves as a shield from the outside world. The thrashing guitar drowns out the noise of the bustling hallway, wrapping you in your own private bubble of sound. You were preparing yourself to spend your lunch period studying and trying to ignore the ache in your stomach from the night prior. 

Unbeknownst to you, Kenny approaches, his footsteps barely registering over the music. He hesitates for a moment, watching you carefully as you focus on organizing your books and belongings. His lips move, forming words he hopes will reach you through the barrier of your headphones.

"Hey," he says, his voice gentle but unheard amidst the din in your ears.

You continue to rummage in your locker, oblivious to his presence. Kenny clears his throat softly, trying again to get your attention. He gestures towards you, a small smile on his face, but you don't notice.

He takes a step closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder as he tries to catch your eye though he retracts it after recalling the way you shook him off previously. "Hey," he repeats, a little louder this time.

Finally, you glance up, startled to see Kenny standing there, a grin playing on his face. You quickly pull out your headphones, and the music is abruptly silenced. You stare at him, silently waiting for him to continue.

It takes him a beat to realize and then he picks up where he left off, "Just wanted to say I'm sorry about last night."

"You already did." 

"Uh, yeah," he chuckles, rubbing the nape of his neck. You were now getting a good look at his face. He had a nice smile, dimples, most notably a faint little scar over the bridge of his nose and a silver piercing through his right eyebrow "I just felt really bad, let me make it up to you and buy you lunch?"

"I packed my own," You said flatly. 

"Do you like coffee?"

You didn't even think about entertaining this idea, you swiftly shook your head.  "I'm not good company," Before giving him another chance to speak, you put your headphones back in, moving past him.

Kenny had been rejected a handful of times, namely in middle school, but yours hit him the worst. 

You weren't one to recklessly date or recklessly do anything really. All that mattered was achieving a top ranking in your country and eventually making your way to the Olympics, everything else was an afterthought or a stepping stone to get there. 

There were some days when you would eat lunch with Craig, though with Tweak being so jumpy, you spent most days you did as you are doing now. Eating lunch alone in your English class. As you push the door open, you see Mrs. Miller typing on her laptop, she looks towards the door and gives you a little smile as you enter. 

She was a middle-aged Filipino woman with the most beautiful black hair you had ever seen. It fell down to the small of her back and shined like silk under the harsh lights in the school. You first had her as your teacher in the ninth grade, after writing a paper about skating she told you that she was once a skater. Mrs. Miller quickly became your favourite teacher. You were now in your senior year and still you spent lunch wallowing in her classroom. 

Pausing at her desk, you unzip your bag and pull out a little package wrapped in parchment and secured in a bow of twine. She looks up from her papers, her warm smile inviting you to continue. "It's a cream cheese pound cake. I made it last night."

Her eyes light up with genuine appreciation. "Thank you, this is my favourite part of the day." She takes the pound cake from you, her smile growing even wider. Being as avid of a baker as you were, there was far too much excess to leave to go bad, you didn't really have friends to give them to so you let your step-dad bring it to work though you always brought a little bit for Mrs. Miller as a little thanks for letting you stay in her classroom. 

You sit in the corner of the classroom, no one dares enter during lunch, you always thought that the students must have feared the written word. The usual hum of voices and clatter of footsteps is replaced by the soft rustle of pages as you study. Your lunch, a simple sandwich and an apple, rests on the desk beside your notebook, untouched for now. The sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on the bookshelves lined with classics and contemporary novels.

As you take a bite of your sandwich, somewhat disappointed in the combination you had chosen. Your eyes flittered to your phone rather than to your work, in mere moments you had abandoned studying in favour of looking at baking recipes on Pinterest, saving the ones that caught your eye and humming quietly to your music. 

Which recipe would you make that night to settle after skating? Your mom loved lemons but your step-dad was a die-hard chocolate guy though he would really eat whatever you baked and brag about it to his friends at work. 

"Mrs. Miller?" You take your headphones out and look at her.

"Yes?" She looks up from her papers, her warm smile inviting you to continue.

"Would you rather have lemon loaf or black forest brownies?" Some might think it sad that you only had two friends and one of them was your English teacher but you didn't find an ounce of loneliness in it. 

"Hm," She leans back in her chair, thinking long and hard over it before coming to her conclusion "Oh, both sound great, but I think I gotta say black forest brownies, never had them before."

You answer her with a little thumbs up and scribble it down in your notes. Sifting through the internet for a recipe, you find one and start tweaking it to your liking, After crossing out measurements and ingredients and then filling them back in, you snap a picture and send it to your step-dad.

New Message- FIFA man 

You: Thoughts? 

FIFA man: Looks awesome kiddo 😎❤️😘

FIFA man: I'll pick you up from skating ⛸ tonight 🌃

You: Is mom working tonight?

FIFA man: Yes 👍

FIFA man: Do you need a ride 🚗 there? 

You: No, Craig's driving me

FIFA man: Cool 😎 tell him I say hi 👋

FIFA man: Do you want takeout 🥡 or chicken 🐓 and veg 🌽🥕🥦🥬???

You: Chickens good

FIFA man: Awesome 😎🤠🥰😇

FIFA man: I need to grocery 🍎🥐🥩🥬🥑 shop 🛍 tomorrow

FIFA man: Send me a list pls 📝

You: Okay 

FIFA man: Love you 🤬

You: ?

You: Are you mad?

FIFA man: No 🥶

You: Why did you use the cursing emoji?

FIFA man: I thought it was kissing 🤔 LOL IJBOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Todd overused emojis to the point his texts were hard to read, but you always caught yourself giggling at them. You turn up the volume on your phone, letting your favourite music fill your ears as you take another bite of your sandwich. The melody shifts your thoughts back to the ice rink. You can almost feel the cold air and hear the sound of blades cutting through ice. Figure skating has always been your escape, a separate world where a blade stood between you and the ice. You remember the exhilaration of landing a perfect jump, and the applause from the audience, it was like a drug, little hits of dopamine each time you heard that familiar cheering from strangers in the crowd, it was the only loud sound you wanted to hear. 

As the song plays, you imagine yourself skating to it. Each note guides your movements, from the elegant arcs of your arms to the powerful sweeps of your legs. You visualize the choreography in your mind, picturing how you would translate the music into a captivating routine. The swells of the hymn dictate your jumps and spins, while the softer passages call for graceful glides and delicate footwork. 

You were really one to dream away your time. Every program you watched, you imagined what it was like to be them, to feel what they did, to see what they did. It consumed you entirely.

Mrs. Miller had always tried to get you out of your shell, pairing you with the loud kids in class, and assigning public speaking assignments, but you always wound up coming back into her classroom to soak in the quiet soft scribble of her red correction pen. 

Kenny was never keen on waking up early. Though he had recently been inclined to pick up more shifts at work, meaning he would be skipping several practices and had to make up the time elsewhere. He dragged his hockey bag behind him as he entered the rink. In the winter, it was dark almost all of the time, by the time he reached the arena, the sun wasn't even out yet. 

He checked the time sheet posted upfront to be sure no one had booked the ice time, luckily he was in the clear. Kenny didn't bother to put all of his gear on, he just shed his thick coat, leaving him in a hoodie and sweatpants while he laced up his skates and shook the now-melting snow from his hair. There was no need for all of the padding when he would be the only one in there, boring himself to death doing technique work.

"Kenny?" Coach Trevor pokes his head out of his office. His face splits into a smile when he spots Kenny on the bench "Good seeing you buddy, didn't expect you to be here bright and early."

"Me neither," He shakes his head slightly.

"We missed you last night at practice."

"Uh, yeah, sorry, I've been working more, I'm just trying to juggle everything right now." Kenny stood up and shifted his weight, fiddling with the worn tape on his hockey stick.

Trevor's brow furrowed in concern. "I understand the need to work, Kenny, but your performance on the ice is slipping. You're falling behind on your drills and your conditioning. It's not just about showing up; it's about being present and giving it your all."

"I'll, uh- ask if they can switch my schedule around," He lied through his teeth. Kenny couldn't quit his job to play hockey or cut down his hours, he wouldn't even be able to afford to play hockey if he didn't have a job. 

"Okay," Trevor gives him a thin-lipped smile and a firm pat on the shoulder "Let me know how it goes and we can work something out."

"You got it," He returns the smile, giving the coach a little thumbs up. Trevor retreated back into his office as Kenny entered the abnormally quiet rink. His brief conversation with Trevor was enough to make him want to lie down on the ice and wait until the cool air of the rink froze him whole.

That feeling of desolation melted away the second he saw you on the other side of the arena. Across the rink, you are engrossed in your own world, skating solo on a secluded patch of ice. Your headphones are in and you're buried deep in concentration. You execute each move with precision, lost in the rhythm and flow of your routine.

Like a shot of caffeine, he suddenly didn't feel tired, straightening up his posture as he stepped onto the ice. The first few glides were always the most exhilarating, a reminder of why he loved the sport like he was weightless. 

If you had noticed him enter, you gave no indication, not even a quick look in his direction. It was just you and your music, shifting gracefully along the sleet. Your arms swayed above your head, controlled and elegant like the wings of a swan. 

First was the axel. You skated backward, building up speed before launching into the air with a powerful push from your right leg. Your body rotated mid-air, arms tucked in tightly, and time seemed to slow for a moment. You landed smoothly on your left foot, the blade biting into the ice, a soft scrape marking your descent.

Next, you transitioned seamlessly into a toe loop. You approached the jump with a series of elegant crossovers, each movement precise and calculated. Planting the toe pick of your right skate into the ice, you used it as a pivot to leap into the air, your body spinning in a controlled rotation. The landing was crisp, your knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. With every movement, you thought of each correction Katya had given you. 

With barely a pause, you moved into a sequence of spins. Starting with a camel spin, you extend your right leg behind you, your body bending forward in a perfect horizontal line. The spin began slowly, the centrifugal force pulling at your outstretched limbs, then gradually sped up as you pulled your arms and leg in tighter. The world blurred around you, the only constant the center of your spin.

Kenny found himself in awe of your movement. He had never seen you skate and frankly hadn't expected you to be so good. He tightened his grip on his stick, pushing off with purpose and shaking the thoughts from his head. Kenny was here to practice, not to watch you run a routine. 

However, as he skated, his eyes kept drifting towards you. You were in your element, gliding effortlessly across the ice, your movements fluid and precise. The sight of you skating with such grace captivated him, drawing his attention away from his own drills.

Without realizing it, Kenny's focus wavered. His skates lost their cadence, and his mind wandered as he watched you execute another flawless turn. He failed to notice the approaching sideboard in that split second of distraction.

Suddenly, reality snapped back into focus as Kenny collided hard with the sideboard, the impact jolting through his body. He winced in pain, clutching his shoulder where it had taken the brunt of the crash. His collision echoed through the rink, drawing your attention at last. 

Maybe it had been karma for hitting you so hard the night but good lord, he was hurting. "Are you okay?" You take out one headphone, sliding into a stop to watch him

"She speaks," He says, somewhat winded but his voice carries a teasing lilt. You just stare at him, waiting for a proper answer, not feeling pressure to push further for one. Kenny uses the sideboard to yank himself up, wiping the shavings from the ice off him and then looking at you "Yes, I'm okay."

You nod in the slightest, moving to put your headphones back in but in the seconds before it connects to your ear, he seized the moment.

"I'm Kenny."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?" He asks, a lopsided smile on his face "How?"

"You're-" You pause, you didn't exactly know how to phrase it but you had seen him in the halls with his friends, screaming in the locker room, and hitting up girls. If anything, you were an observer, a wallflower as opposed to a Venus fly trap. 

"A whore?" He asks. You open your mouth to speak but close it right away, letting the words die in your throat "Oh, jeez, you really think I am?"

"I was going to say, you talk a lot" You say, politely. 

"Well, compared to you, yeah." He waits another beat for you to respond but is met with nothing but a blank stare. Kenny let out a breath, a little cloud escaping from his mouth "Nah, I get it, you're shy."

"I'm not shy," You say, feeling yourself cringe at the word. You hated when people called you that, they tended to be the same who treated you like a pet since you couldn’t fit a word in between their constant back and forth "I just like my-" You rack your brain for the right word "Aloneness." 

"Then I will leave you to your aloneness," He says, reaching back for his stick and turning away from you. Kenny weaved through invisible cones with the puck like he was actually practising with his team, focusing on control and precision. He kept his eyes up, forcing himself to rely on his peripheral vision to navigate.

You really didn't care what he did, without another thought you unpause your music and go back into your movements. You changed into a sit spin and sank yourself into a low squat without slowing down. Your arms made a graceful arc above your head, and your left leg extended in front of you, toes pointing. The sensation was both thrilling and disorienting as the ice whirled beneath you during the quick and low spin.

You changed into a layback spin as soon as you got out of the sit spin. Your back arched flawlessly, head tipped back, eyes closed, the ceiling of the rink a faraway haze. Your free leg was raised slightly behind you as your arms softly curved around your head. 

Finishing your spins, you took a moment to catch your breath, the music in your headphones guiding your next movements. From the corner of your eye, you see Kenny doing the exact opposite of what he said. He's staring at you from the other side. 

His eyebrows furrow deep, the way you twist and turn your body replaying in his mind on repeat until he notices you watching him, crossing your arms "How do you do your crossovers like that?"

You stare him dead in the eyes and point at your figure skates, a different type of blade entirely.

"Yeah, figure skates, I know but my crossovers are so clunky and yours are just- clean." He knew how you did yours, probably hours, weeks, and years of practicing longer and relentlessly than he did. Also, the fact you were trained for grace and agility while he was trained for speed and strength. He just wanted to dig for ways to get you to talk to him. 

"Show me how you do yours," you say, tone flat. "Forwards and backwards." 

Kenny took a deep breath, positioning himself on the ice. He started his crossovers, his movements stiff and deliberate. His knees were slightly bent, but his weight seemed unevenly distributed, causing his skates to scrape awkwardly against the ice semi-purposefully. He plays it up in hopes that you'll correct him. 

"First, bend your knees slightly- not too much. Keep your core engaged and your weight centred over your skates." 

Kenny bent his knees a bit more and adjusted his posture, arms out at his sides. "Like this?"

You bite your lip, wanting to cringe at his positioning though you were raised too well to do so. "I- Can I show you?"

"Be my guest," There it is, just what he was looking for. You skated to his side, demonstrating the correct posture. Kenny studies your form, attempting to mimic it "Better?"

"No," you said bluntly. "Not like that." With a sigh, you skated closer and placed your hands on his shoulders, adjusting them to be more relaxed. "Relax your shoulders. You're too tense."

Kenny's breath caught slightly at your touch, but he quickly tried to hide it. "This good?"

"Yup," you replied, moving your hands to his hips, guiding his posture. "Now, shift your weight over your skates, keep your core engaged. Feel the balance." Skating felt like the only thing you could talk about. Usually, you just didn't speak when you had nothing to say but skating gave you purpose. 

Your proximity made the air between you feel charged, and for a moment, Kenny forgot he was supposed to be pretending. "Alright, I think I've got it."

You step back slightly but still close enough to correct him if needed. "Now, when you cross one foot over the other, push off with the edges of your skates. It's about finding a fluid motion."

You showed off a couple of crossovers, and you moved with ease and fluidity. With elegance, your left foot crossed over your right, and you leaned slightly into the turn while keeping perfect balance.

Kenny tried again, this time paying more attention to your instructions. His movements were still awkward, but there was a noticeable improvement. He looked at you for validation.

"Better," you said, your tone softening slightly. "But you're still too stiff. Relax your upper body more." You placed your hands on his shoulders again, gently pushing them down. "Let your legs guide you."

Kenny nodded, feeling the warmth of your hands through his hoodie. He took a deep breath and tried again, bending his knees, relaxing his shoulders, and tilting into the turn. This time, his movements felt smoother and more controlled. He could feel the fluidity you had described, he didn't come into this actually intending to learn something but he stood corrected.

"Listen to your skating, if it looks like this," You sweep your leg back, pushing off the ice to demonstrate "And it sounds like that, you're using one leg, it should be two. You should hear the rip on the ice, go again."

Kenny does as told and you see him implementing what you had said "Looks good," you nod, already skating away to continue your routine. Kenny watched you for a moment, admiring your skill, feeling the lingering warmth of your touch.

He skated closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I need a bit more help. You know, hands-on guidance really works for me."

You look back at him, putting your headphones in as you do so "I think you're fine." 

Every minute you spent on the ice that morning, you savoured it like you would never have it again. It was easy for you to ignore Kenny's staring, it was just like a miniature audience. Having eyes on you never hindered your performance and maybe that was why you found it so easy to ignore people.

Unfortunately, you had to leave the rink eventually. While you didn't mind school, you weren't thrilled for it- particularly the awkwardness that came about when you had to pick partners. Your grades weren't by any means perfect but you managed to keep your above water just enough to skate as often as you did. 

You begin the ritual of unlacing your pristinely kept skates, Kenny sitting on the bench across from you doing the same. You slip your shoes on, tucking your skates away and look up at him "Have you had breakfast yet?"

His head shot up, face lighting up. His lips curved into an easy, charming smile and you could understand how he drew so much attention without trying "No, do you wanna get some?"

"No," you said, curtly. 

"Oh," his face dropped but he still kept a staggered smile, watching you reach into your bag.

"Do you want these?" You pulled a box from your tote bag, holding it out to Kenny. "They're brownies, I made too many," That was only half true. You made a lot, figuring your stepdad would take them to work for the staff to munch on but he insisted that you should bring them to school and hand them out like high school students initiated friendships by passing baked goods back and forth.

"Don't you wanna give them to your friends?" Kenny asks and you shake your head. You had already set Mrs. Miller's brownie apart, wrapping it in parchment like you always did and most days you didn't see Craig until you skated at night. "Sweet," He muttered reaching over to take the box from your grip.

 "You can share them with your friends," You say slinging your duffle over your shoulder and holding your tote bag in hand. Kenny wasted no time digging into the brownies, he had the box on his lap one brownie in hand as he sunk his teeth into it. 

"Hell no, they don't deserve this," he says between bites "I'm keeping this to myself." 

There was always that little sense of pride when someone was enjoying what you baked. Usually, you would eavesdrop on your parents while they ate your baking to be sure they genuinely liked it. Kenny's reaction almost had you smiling. Almost. 

"Are you leaving already?" Kenny asked as you walked away, headphones back on and deaf to whatever he was saying "Okay, bye.”

A/N: I rewrote this a bajillion times and I’m still not happy with it but I don’t have the strength in me for another rewrite so here she is ✊

[namfinessed]

i have died - p.jm.

genre: angst, mild fluff (7.1k) royal au! (mentions of blood, fighting and all information might not be accurate to history.)

summary: jimin knows his queen has a heart, he's known it since he set eyes on her, even if rumours whispered that she was cold, calculated, merciless, jimin held on, his queen had a heart.

masterlist

-

to be a queen, was to be powerful, they said.

it was to be graceful yet stern, commanding but caring, soft but strong, beautiful but not so much, that it took away from your strength.

to be a queen, was to be miserable, you said.

you sat on your throne, with the burden of the world on your shoulders and not a touch from someone else to cure it or take it away. your arms stayed firmly on your lap as you tried to concentrate on your advisor’s words.

“war is upon us, your majesty, everyone’s saying it.” he gestured to the court filled with old men, greedy old men who were waiting for you to slip up.

“on what basis, did you make this conclusion?” you tried to stay calm, even if a shiver went down your spine and your hands started sweating.

you knew war was going to descend on your kingdom any day now, your parents warned out about it when you were still a kid, you had been preparing for this your whole life, but it didn’t stop the nightmares, chills, or fear. war would devastate your kingdom, it would run your people and resources dry and as the queen, you were expected to stop this devastation.

“do you not see what is happening in your kingdom, your majesty?” one of the old men sneered at you as their hands tweaked their mustaches and your patience almost gave out.

beside you, your general, park jimin, tightened his hand on his sword, ready to slay the man on your command. you lift a hand in his direction, showing a sliver of your patience, and he brings his hand back down.

“i do know about the riots and the grains,” you started, leaning forward, “i also know about the affairs.” you stared pointedly at the old man, whose eyebrow started sweating as you stood up.

“be careful with how you speak to me, or i will not hesitate to tie you up and throw you in the middle of a bloody riot.” you stormed out of the room with park jimin hot on your tail, concealing his smile and an audible hush resounded around you as you walked out to the barren land.

you weren’t known as the heartless queen for no reason, you were merciless, with whomever you deemed deserved to be treated that way and you knew it wasn’t fair, but as a queen, you could care less about being fair.

“should i ready the swords, your majesty?” jimin spoke and you nodded, turning and disappearing into a room to change. you hastily undid the layers of clothing you wore, feeling more and more air enter your chest as you stood naked in front of the long mirror covering the wall.

scars from many wars ago littered your chest, thighs, and arms, you wanted to pile on all the layers of your clothing back on your beaten body.

you pushed the layers away instead, a queen shouldn’t worry about battle scars, she should celebrate them. you got your armor and boots on, feeling better when everything was covered, and stepped out.

but a sight made you stop in your tracks.

across the practice field, were two lovers, oblivious to the world, hiding away from the world under a sheer curtain, the women were holding back their smiles as they stroked each other’s cheeks, leaning into each other but leaning away, as if a magnetic pushed them close and far. one of them reached out and kissed the other’s cheek, your hand instinctively reached to your cheek, unconsciously patting the area.

never a kiss.

never has a kiss ever touched your skin.

never has a touch from someone you loved, left a ghost on your skin, like your scars did.

across the practice field, jimin’s worried eyes saw your hands stroking your cheeks, his gaze followed your line of sight to see the poorly concealed lovers, his heart twisted as he watched you push your hands away and a grimace fell on your face. jimin had never seen a smile on his queen’s face but with the role you had, he knew you didn’t have much to smile about.

“your majesty, they are ready!” he yelled, capturing your attention, away from the lovers who brought tears to your eyes. your eyes snapped to his and the vulnerability disappeared, a hardness settled in them again and jimin wished that he let you stay lost in your vulnerability for a little more.

you grabbed your sword and protective gear, struggling to put on the headpiece as you always did, jimin stepped up and snapped it into place, it was the only thing you let him do for you.

and jimin looked forward to it every day.

you fell into a rhythm, jimin was a formidable opponent, never letting you be distracted for too long, which was relieving. the sounds of swords clanging, boots kicking the sand up, and heavy breathing drowned out everything else for you.

your eyes stayed laser-focused on jimin’s movements, they were natural, clean, and sharp, and so were his father’s.

you had known jimin your whole life when he was still just a kid and learning from his father, who was your father’s general, when he followed his mom around, who followed your mum around.

his parents weren’t alive now, nor were yours.

someday, you were ten years old, your parents had left for another town and never returned, and you had to be a queen while still not understanding what death was and why it had taken your parents, jimin’s parents protected you until an unknown disease took the two of them as well.

jimin’s sword hit yours, bringing you back to the present, where you had no one to love nor protect but jimin did, jimin always knew he would protect you.

you swung back, twisting your leg to bend and hit the armor covering his stomach, he recoiled at the contact and you smirked underneath your headgear. this continued, you played the dance of defense and offense, and soon, you ripped the headpiece to force some air into your body.

“i’ll be going now.” you walked out, without looking back and jimin nodded, dropping his sword, wordlessly watching you leave.

somewhere, between being a queen while still being a child and losing everyone you loved, you had forgotten to care for another person, and between protecting you since he was a teenager and losing everyone he loved, jimin had only grown more determined to care with all the heart in him.

that was the difference between you and jimin, you lost your heart and he gained a second one. and naturally, you two never spoke anymore but jimin had always wanted to tell you about his second heart, that it beat for you, even if it meant that his head would be at the end of your sword.

-

the talk of war kept spreading throughout the kingdom and your palace became louder, so did your heartbeat in your ears, so did your sword hitting jimin’s, and so did your internal cries for help.

you marked the map as you circled it, checking entries, exits, and secret pathways that could leave you vulnerable to the enemies.

“seal the exits, don’t allow goods transport till the next week, we will put up announcements when it can be resumed, station two guards at every secret route and give them our best guns, station one guard at each entry and exit, make sure meals reach them from time-to-time and distribute palace supplies to the people, without good transport, they won’t be making money” commands flowed easily out of you, you took every advisor’s bullshit advice and decided to ignore it at all, you came up with the most efficient plan you could.

“should we seal them tonight, your majesty?” jimin stepped forward and you nodded, “tonight would be best, we have to protect ourselves before we regret it. and later, i need to discuss battle strategies with you, keep that in mind.” jimin bowed to you and stepped back as the advisors argued with you.

he watched with a smirk as you calmly explained how miserable their plans were, he watched as you put all of them in their places and left the room, leaving the air of your power lingering in the room.

“she’s just as arrogant as her father” the same old man who had questioned your knowledge of the kingdom in the court, turns his nose up with a nasty sneer on his face. jimin feels his skin start to burn in anger when he hears the noises of agreement from the others.

“she’s even worse, at least her father was a capable ruler, she’s just arrogant and nothing else,” another one adds with a smirk, and everyone laughs at the comment, jimin wonders how you hold onto your patience with these men.

“she’s not even beautiful enough to be arrogant, did you see the scars covering her arms? no wonder she isn’t married” they continued to add snide comments, sipping their drinks and doing everything but be the advisors they are.

a slam on the wooden table startles them all, liquid jumping out of their cups and onto the floors, they all turn to see jimin’s eyes burning holes into them as his hands twitch on the table.

“one more word about our queen and i will personally wield the sword that chops your necks off.” jimin says calmly, though his fury is poorly contained. the advisors quirked an eyebrow at him, “who do you think you are? you are a general, not the queen’s lapdog, behave.”

another one piped up to reprimand him, “you are no one to lay a hand on any of us, learn your place, or we will make you.”

a dark chuckle bubbled out of jimin as he quickly realized if given the chance, he would take the lives of everyone in this room in a heartbeat, “my place is to serve her, so if i ever lay a hand on you, it wouldn’t be for me, it would be for my queen.”

the advisors grew wide-eyed at the storm-like fury that brewed in jimin’s eyes as he stared at them, jimin was known to be kind, friendly, and sweet around the court, but seeing him this way, had them all clearing their throats and looking away as a sheen of fear covered their faces, their eyes flickered from jimin to the sword that rested on his hips.

it would only take him a minute to kill them all and that knowledge had all of them gulping for air.

outside the room, you held your hand to your chest as a long breath released out of you, you never left since you heard the first comment from your advisors and even if it wasn’t supposed to hurt you, it did.

and you knew jimin didn’t have to say anything, you knew he could’ve just left the room, this was the first time anyone had ever stood beside you and not against you.

jimin opened the doors to see you beside them, eyes gazing up at him with concealed fondness, your face stayed cold and distant but jimin noticed the tiniest curve of your lips.

he remembers how you used to smile as a kid, wide and with teeth, dimples curved in as you ran around the palace, having your maids chase you around, he remembers the first time you had talked to him.

“get the swords ready, general.” you rush out of the area, leaving jimin a little startled but without another word, he follows you.

-

the sounds of your swords clanging brought you peace, as your chest slowly started to loosen up, though you had to admit that your focus wasn’t great, your eyes kept flickering to catch glimpses of jimin, hidden under his protective gear and your mouth kept opening to say something.

“you didn’t have to stand up to them, park jimin” you muttered, just loud enough for jimin to hear and his movements paused.

so, you had heard.

he was wishing that you hadn’t.

“i know, your majesty.” his arms lifted his sword again, but dropped it as soon as your sword hit the ground.

“then, why would you do it?” you hated the tremor in your voice, it was so unlike you, so unlike a queen.

“i don’t know, but i can’t think of anything else i would’ve done at the moment,” he removed his headpiece to see you, to see what you felt about his words.

you nodded with uncertainty, you expected him to say that as your general, it was his duty to defend you, you hadn’t expected anything more than that.

“i appreciate it,” you said breathily and jimin nodded back, his cheeks attaining a flush from both the cold wind gushing around you and also from your words.

i would do it again, by the way, even if my life is on the line.

he felt the urge to tell you as you turned away but then his eyes caught the royal emblem etched on your armor and he swallowed his words.

“i wasn’t always like this, general, i think you know that.” tears, that you couldn’t stop, lined your eyes as you thought back to the child that you were and the world that you had to grow up in, and jimin felt his chest fill with sorrow because he knew so well, knew more than you thought he did. “i know, your majesty, i know.”

you straightened your shoulders, any trace of vulnerability escaping your body as your advisors passed the field, all of their eyes analyzing and judging you.

“we still have to discuss those strategies, come.”

-

the rest of the night, you went over your defenses again and again, eyes catching fleetingly, accidentally, and then returning to the table with flushed cheeks, jimin was delighted to be so close, yet so far, from you.

and each time, your eyes met, you felt your heart beating again, you felt yourself wanting to say things that had nothing to do with the maps spread out in front of you.

“we knew each other before all this, didn’t we, park jimin?” before you became a queen, before you owned a kingdom, jimin was present in your distant memory, “you gave me flowers.” he smiled at you, images of your younger self flashing brightly in his mind.

“no! that can’t be true, general” a smile of disbelief curved on your face, you never looked at flowers, you couldn’t imagine any part of you that would gift someone flowers.

“oh, but you did, your majesty” jimin cheekily replied, making you shake your head and look away from him, trying to remember a time when you weren’t a queen.

but jimin remembers too clearly, how you had met, how your hands touched him for the first time, when it was all innocence and warmth.

it had been a hot, summer day.

jimin’s mother was busier than usual. it was the princess’s birthday and the entire palace was geared up to celebrate it grandly.

but jimin wasn’t happy at all. his eyes were hurting from the tears he had cried, his cheeks were firing up with heat as his body burned.

he was sicker than he had ever been and his mother couldn’t take care of him, her own eyes were filled with tears that she couldn’t take care of her child but she had duties to fulfill.

jimin sat in the garden, sniffling and pulling grass, refusing to listen to his mother’s request to stay inside as his cheeks puffed up with defiance.

then, he heard soft giggles falling from the corridors into the lonely garden.

he turned to see the princess, her hand in the queen’s, her other hand gripping tightly onto freshly picked jasmines, as she walked merrily, it was her birthday after all. and even as a kid, jimin couldn’t look away from the princess.

she was a joy to see, a joy to hear.

when the princess turned to look at him, to look at sad, pouty jimin, sitting by himself, picking the grass with tear-stained cheeks, jimin wouldn’t have guessed that she would run over to him. he wouldn’t have guessed that she would take the jasmines in her hand and place them above his ears.

“flowers are happy, you should be happy.” you had told him, with a dimpled smile, staring at him for a few seconds before running back to your mother, but he watched as you looked back at him till you left the corridor.

jimin felt the traces of love bloom in his heart for the first time.

now, he sees you, so tough and powerful and as his queen, but he remembers too well how you used to be and jimin fell for you then, unfortunately for him, he hadn’t gotten back up.

at some point in the night, the sleeves on your dress ride up and your eyes widen as you push them back down, you hurriedly look up to see if jimin has seen anything, you wait to see if his face twisted in disgust, but jimin only smiles, “you are so strong, your majesty. i wish i was more like you.”

he doesn’t speak about your tears.

or your scars.

or the fear on your face.

you know that he notices it all, but he doesn’t say a word.

you didn’t know that even if you weren’t the queen of the kingdom, you would still be jimin’s queen, hot or cold, kind or ruthless, heart or heartless, nothing could change that.

and jimin might have felt it when he was still a kid, but this was the first time, that something bloomed in your heart, you weren’t sure it was love, you were just sure that it was because of him.

-

weeks later, your kingdom was sealed, business halted and time as it was, didn’t move as you and your people prepared for the war.

tensions were high, and the kingdom got quieter as everyone waited for any news about their fate, you spent every minute with jimin, formulating and discussing plans that could bring you even a sliver of hope, and every minute, your heart unwillingly grew sprouts and flowers.

“hand over the kingdom to us and there will be no blood staining your land or else, your entire kingdom will drown.” your minister read the last sentence of the letter that was sent over to you that morning and you tried to resist the chill crawling on your back.

but you knew who it was from, a much more prosperous kingdom, a much more powerful kingdom with a king, not a queen, not like your weak kingdom.

you were powerful and you have won many wars but your opponent has colonized several countries at a time so realistically, your chances of surviving his quest were slim to none.

jimin eyed your tightening fists with a glint of worry and concern as your minister hung his head, solemn from the words he just read, “what do we say, your majesty?”

you knew the gravity of your decision here, you could either abandon your land and people, hand them over to a stranger, and not look back, because you knew even if you fought back, you would be weaker, you would lose.

but you also couldn’t turn your back on your people, your father and mother wouldn’t have done that, they wouldn’t have handed your people over, and they would have fought with everything they had.

sometimes, you just wish they would be beside you, gently guiding and firmly telling you what to do. sometimes, you wanted to crawl on your mother’s lap and cry until you couldn’t, sometimes, you just wanted your father’s hand on your head, telling you to be brave.

but your wishes remained wishes, hard decisions had to be solely made by you, whether you liked it or not.

“tell them, they will be the ones drowning, not us.” you feigned the confidence you knew your court needed, and seeing everyone’s face light up as their loud cheers echoed in your court, made it easy for you to say it, even if you knew it wasn’t true.

you would drown.

and never float back up.

all because you couldn’t be the queen your people needed.

you told yourself, that it was justified to give false hope to people whose hope was weathering, it was justified to lie to your court while knowing it would be gone in flames later, it was justified to fake your power for the flicker of relief that passed over their faces.

but jimin’s eyes stayed on your knuckles that turned white, your eyes that seemed dazed and he knew you were lying, his hand rested on his sword as he realized that the cheering people, were all waiting for their deaths.

-

“your majesty, a moment of your time.” jimin stayed outside the door until he heard your voice, allowing him in. you were sitting at the edge of your cot, chest heavy and breathing caught in your body.

“forgive me, your majesty, but you and i both know that you were lying.” he spoke, with confusion lacing his voice, you were always honest, you never lied for the sake of making someone feel better. “about what, general?” he didn’t recognize the strange, lifeless tone your voice had taken.

“that we are going to survive the quest.” jimin knew as much as you did, that your kingdom would be run to the ground, even if he thought you were the strongest of them all, he knew your kingdom would fall.

“we are going to survive it,” you lied through your teeth.

“we’re all going to die” jimin didn’t know why he was arguing with you, but he couldn’t help it, this was the first time his queen had lied and he needed to know why.

“oh general, i have died a long time ago” you laughed bitterly, your stomach twisting at your words, you felt sick, trapped in yourself, trapped in this palace that gave you all of the power but none of the relief that came with love. his gaze softened as, for the first time, tears flowed down your face like a river, as sobs escaped your chest without restraint, as you sunk to the floor with your hands tightly wrung the bedding.

you had died the day your parents didn’t come back, you had died when they placed a heavy crown on your tiny head as a kid, you had died when the sprinkle of someone else’s blood fell on your face, you had died when the people you fought for called you heartless.

you had died more times than you could count, one more time, even if it was for real this time, didn’t shake you at all.

it was dying without a touch of love decorating your skin, that truly scared you. you wished for a touch that wouldn’t unravel you but would hold you together, the way even a riptide, as dangerous as it is, longs for a shore to embrace, you want just a touch.

jimin should leave, his duty wasn’t this, his duty wasn’t to console a broken queen but jimin never stayed by your side as a duty, he stayed because it was where he belonged.

jimin sunk to his knees, his hands trembling to touch you, to let you lay on him and let years of your tears run down his chest, but he doesn’t want to be at the end of your sword, he wants to be at the end of your bed, watching you while you sleep and protecting you from the nightmares that plague you.

and then you surprise him.

jimin’s breath halts as he watches you reach for him, one frail hand in the air that beckons him closer and he follows wordlessly, sitting beside you and watching as your head finds his lap. you melt into his lap, fingers falling away from your body to hug his legs, a soft hum leaves your lips and jimin’s urge to protect you increases exponentially.

it's been a while since he has seen his queen be herself, and he knows as you grasp onto him for affection, that this was you finally giving up on maintaining an image, at least in front of him.

he slowly places a hand on your back, unsure if he was allowed to touch you the way you touched him, but you only bury your tear-stained cheeks into his legs and jimin relaxes, letting his hands travel on your back, his hands burned with love as he rubbed circles on your skin that coaxed more cries out of you, but this time, they weren’t out of pain, they were out of the relief of finally being touched with love.

“jimin,” you called out, so softly even if your voice dried out from the tears, so intimately that jimin wanted to curl up to you and forget everything else, “yes?”

no general.

no park jimin.

just jimin.

“i didn’t lie because i wanted to, the kingdom will die long before the war gets here, if i don’t lie, they need to hold onto something as we go into the war, they need to believe that they can survive to even fight.” and jimin sees it, the heart that your people denied that you had, you had thought of them before anything else and he smiles to the ceiling.

“after everything goes, you will be remembered as the greatest ruler our kingdom has ever seen,” he speaks sincerely, as his hands caress the lengths of your hair, which lulls you, your heart warms but you know it wasn’t true, “no one would remember me.”

“i would, in death and life, i will.”

you hadn’t expected to be satisfied with his answer but somehow, that was more than enough of you.

you always wished for a touch to make you feel loved, to make you feel anything but jimin’s words alone held you together and for the first time, you bore a heart that was heavier than you were, a heart that dragged you down, pulled you down and forced you to accept its size.

and you loved the enormity of affection you felt, especially that it was for the man who held you so gently even if he had seen you at your strongest.

“your majesty, i have a confession.”

“i think i know what you are going to say,” you might not have cared for other people, but you did notice things, you noticed the lingering looks jimin would give you, the smile that would grow on his face whenever you put your advisors in their place, the way his tone changed to something softer only when he talked to you, you had noticed it all.

you felt the same, maybe not as long as he had, but melted against him, you knew you wouldn’t feel this way for anyone else, except the person who stood by and protected you for so long.

“but if you allow me, i still want to say it.” you peered up from his lap with an amused smile, your general was more romantic than you had thought him to be, and jimin hadn’t thought your smile could be any more beautiful than it was in his dreams, but it was.

“you are allowed,” you face him, cheeks flushing and hands trapping his, “i love you, i’ve loved you since i knew what love was.”

you were only just learning love, as your skin touched his, as you sunk further into him, as you felt cocooned by his presence, as you felt his unwavering love for you through his touch but even if it was just now, you knew you felt the same.

but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, as a queen, were you allowed to profess love for someone else? with a war approaching, did you deserve to love as your kingdom ran to devastation?

you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t allow yourself the luxury.

you just nudged further into jimin’s body, squeezing his hand as a silent way of professing, ‘i feel the same, in my heart that’s beating after a long time, i feel what you do and i will tell you, i will tell you soon.’

jimin sighs in relief, his skin growing warm as your hands desperately try to tell him what your mouth can’t and he allows his body to drape over you, hands caressing your dress and brushing your hair away from your cheeks.

“i understand, my queen, i will wait.”

-

that night, everything changed for you, you had felt so defeated before the war even started but here you were, days later, hitting swords with jimin once again, a new kind of determination drummed in your attacks, you had to win the war, you had to be with jimin.

“your majesty, i’m afraid you are getting distracted,” jimin teases you as his sword nears your throat, with an amused scoff, you pull back to drag your sword on the ground and drive it up to the back of his head, “apparently, not as much as you, general.”

you both spent every quiet night together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s words and he professed his love to you every single day, even if you didn’t say it back, and he reminded you that your heart hadn’t died, it had just hidden away, but he certainly had wedged himself into it and it seemed to you that he would never leave.

jimin raises his sword in surrender, a chuckle leaving his lips once he sees you grin widely at his defeat.

“you are enjoying this too much,” he tuts at you, “i’m still your queen, jimin” you playfully scold him and he rolls his eyes at you, “and i’m still your general, your majesty.” he tips his invisible hat with a shit-eating grin and leaves you, flustered in the middle of the ground as he walks away to greet some new members of the army.

what was this feeling that consumed you, as your eyes refused to look away from his retracting figure?

a fluttering sense of calm danced around you, your usually restless heart had taken a steady, loud rhythm and you loved the world right now.

you felt as if everything was alright, as if the skies were always blue, as if the flowers always bloomed, as if you could fight a war and win it, just to keep this moment alive.

“your majesty!” a shrill voice broke your dreamy thoughts, and your head snapped to see your minister rushing down the hallway to reach you. you hold your arms over his shoulders to steady him as he breathes heavily.

“careful, minister.” he shook his head at your words, eyes pinching shut as he panted.

“they’ve gotten in, your majesty.”

and just like that, the feeling of victory faded from you.

“what are you talking about?” you couldn’t recognize how tight your voice sounded, how your hands twitched involuntarily to your sword, and how the air in your chest knocked out of you.

not now.

not so soon.

“we sealed every exit, minister, that is not possible” you desperately tried to dissuade what he was trying to tell you, he solemnly shook his head, “one of our own turned on us, they gave them entry into our kingdom, and several civilians were beheaded just a few minutes.”

your blood boiled.

for a minute, your eyes saw complete red as your hands shook beside your body, “how many, minister?” your voice didn’t contain your fury, nor your heartbreak.

“hundred and twelve, as of now, your majesty.”

in that minute, you knew you could slay an entire kingdom if you wanted to, you knew that if you were let loose, not a single soldier would be able to keep up with you. your people were supposed to be the last ones to get hurt, you were supposed to be protecting them and you failed.

“i’m assuming, the traitor has been caught?”

“yes, your majesty.” your minister’s eyes widened in fear as you pulled your sword out, “show him to me.”

-

that night, you scrubbed someone else’s blood off your face, and frustrated tears lined your eyes but the red never seemed to disappear, as you kept washing, more and more took its place, and soon, you gave up on getting it off, you had to accept that a part of you will always be stained with their blood.

the blood served as a reminder of the people you couldn’t save.

you had spent the evening, preparing for the war that would start tomorrow, it was finally declared by your opponent in another mocking letter, and providing aid to the families who lost their loved ones, each of their cries rang loudly in your ears even if hours passed.

water droplets dripped down your face as you sat once again, defeated before the war began, at the edge of your bed, but this time, a knock at your door filled you with relief.

jimin came in, exhausted as well, but his eyes zeroed on the red covering your arms and face, without a word, he took a washcloth, dipped it in water, and sat beside you.

his fingers nudged your hair away from your face and slowly, patiently, patted the blood away, shushing you as you broke down in tears in the middle.

that night ended in jimin’s arms, with a clean face and a lighter heart.

both of you didn’t know what would happen the next day, you just knew that you had to survive for each other.

-

“line up!” jimin’s yell filled the courtyard and all the soldiers jogged across it to surround him, “you all are aware, going in today, of the severity of the situation and what it could lead to, but i trust that my soldiers will still give their best, we all have homes to return to, keep that in mind. let it serve as a motivation for you to win this, help your fellow soldiers, and keep your focus.”

all of them were nervous, all of them had left home saying their final goodbyes to their families in case they never returned, but all of them also believed in their general and his words, rapid nods came as a response from them and they started preparing themselves mentally.

jimin gestured for them to move along and they all started embracing each other, comforting words poured into the space and they soon moved away to disperse.

in your changing room, your hands slid down the scars that covered you, after today, you were sure there were going to be even more, but somehow, you didn’t mind it as much. your maids placed the armor on you, tightening it around your body and you bit back a groan.

you didn’t know how many more of these wars you could fight.

suddenly, they all shuffled away, leaving the room, causing you to turn around, confused at their actions, only to see jimin entering the room.

“i don’t know why they ran away,” he said with comically raised eyebrows and you bit back a grin, “i’m sure they must have seen you leave my quarters in the morning.” his head fell back with a laugh as he stepped closer to you.

“that can’t be, i’m so discreet, like a ninja, you know?” you rolled your eyes at him, “you broke three vases just two days ago, jimin.” he kissed your temple as another laugh bubbled out of him, “maybe i’ll learn along the way.”

“maybe you will.”

you sighed as both of your smiles slipped, there was no telling if there was a way anymore but believing that there was, it was all you could do.

“how are the soldiers?” your eyes bore into his similar, armor-clad body that came up behind you in the mirror.

“just right, your majesty, don’t worry.” his arms came up to wrap around your body and your hands rested on his arms, a shuddering breath left your mouth as the gravity of today settled in even more.

maybe there won’t be a way, maybe you will never get to hold jimin like this again.

“before we go jimin, i want to tell you, like all of them, you have me, a home and i need you to come back for me,” that was the closest you could get to professing your love, your words were pleading, begging, even if your face was passive. jimin shakes his head, his hair rubbed onto your neck as he exhaled, “we both need to come back, i’m not letting this end here.”

after minutes passed of just being enveloped in each other’s warmth, you wished you could just ignore the war and stay in this room forever, with jimin, you wished you could ignore the possibility of losing him but the loud roars of your soldiers marching to the battlefield reminded you of who you were doing all of this for.

you were the queen, jimin was the general, and both of you had duties that couldn’t keep you locked in this room.

so, with a pained heart and arms that longed for each other even if only seconds passed, you both parted to step away from each other.

jimin reached for your headgear, taking his time to brush your hair and slip it on your head, the one thing you always let him do for you and you held back your tears as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. you reached for his hands and kissed the back of them, your tears soon fell on them and jimin’s resolve started breaking.

but he sniffed, pushing himself away and wiping your tears, “are you ready, my strongest queen?” he held out his hand with a wide, albeit painful smile on his face.

you put your hand in his, trying to stay strong, “whenever you are, general.”

and as you two stepped out, the warmth of his skin spread on you, his head dipping down to give you one final smile that was filled with his ever-growing love.

you felt scared that you might never see it again.

“i love you, your majesty.”

i love you unbelievably more.

“there will be a royal wedding to get ready for after this, be prepared, general.”

-

jimin winced as sand clouded his vision, he swung his sword aimlessly, hoping to catch his opponent, his ears were ringing from all the screams of agony around him, and when the blood splattered on his face, another scream rang much louder in his ear, causing him to look away.

another soldier who wouldn’t go home.

he whipped his head around, trying to catch sight of you in the midst of all the chaos, and after ducking and running under everyone around him, while slaying whoever he could in the way, he finds you.

a soldier fell at your feet and you took a huge breath, while looking around, only to catch jimin’s impressed face, you both smiled at each other, with red dripping down on your faces.

there was a chance.

you could win this and go back home to each other.

but soon, jimin got pushed into the chaos, and another, darker cloud of sand dusted across his face, forcing him to stand straight and attack again. he couldn’t see you again but he knew you were giving it your all, so he busied himself.

only a few more.

and he would be back with you.

-

they told him that you killed the most.

that you had fought bravely, and led your kingdom to victory.

that you were the queen that they would love and celebrate, even if centuries pass.

but how could jimin love and celebrate you, when he couldn’t hold you in his arms?

when your body was carried into the palace, it had taken everything in jimin to not set the entire palace on fire. to him, a palace without you, alive and breathing life into the building, was not a palace at all.

people held him when he cried, when he wanted to drive his sword into himself, when he would try to shake your body back to life, when he wouldn’t move away from your body, people put their arms around him and tried to lift him up.

but none of them could console him, all the promises you both had dreamed about vanished in front of his eyes and he blamed every single one of them, if they weren’t so harsh on you, if they didn’t call you heartless, you wouldn’t fight till death to prove that you did indeed have a heart, that you indeed had the biggest one.

jimin didn’t have too long to mourn, soon, the heavy crown was positioned on his head, they told him that it was your last request for him to look after the kingdom you had left behind, and once it was on him, he realized the weight you carried around your whole life, since you were only a kid.

they pulled all kinds of royal clothes on him, the materials itched, they burnt his skin, and the gold threads dug into his neck, as if the clothes were his own prison.

as he was made king, the kingdom rejoiced, they were finally getting a king, a true ruler, in their words, and jimin laughed in all their faces, their history would only have one true ruler, and it was you. no one could do what you did.

the throne felt wrong to jimin, as if he didn’t belong, but he knew this was what you wanted for the kingdom you loved so dearly, and jimin would always serve your needs.

he wished, as you had, for you to come and hold him when he had hard decisions to make, he wished to melt into your lap one last time to feel the warmth that ran away from him, he wished that you were right beside him, gently guiding and caring for him.

but he was left with only the ghost of your touch, that would forever haunt him.

jimin still got up every day, he put on the heavy crown and the irritating clothes and listened to the same blubbering idiots, the way you had, and he tried his best to be the ruler you were.

but at night, he crumbled away, dreaming of your touch and your love as he hugged your headgear closer.

jimin’s dreams remained dreams.

[rollofleaf]

Gorgeous art of Arueshalae and Hilde by @darkergrey ! I adore both their designs and the emotion in the scene is sooo good! I also wrote a short little thing for the scene this inspired.

“Wait, Hilde. Before your decision becomes final… Look me in the eye. Please.” Arueshalae worked up the courage to stand, it felt like pushing a mountain off her back.

Nocticula hissed out, “Arueshalae, shut your whorish mouth…” Her claws came out, and the succubus brought all of her willpower to bear against the order for her to kneel.

Suddenly, light chased away the oppressive demand of the Abyss as Iomedae spoke. “Allow her to speak. Or do the words of one succubus frighten you so, Lady in Shadow?” The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the goddess’s lips as Nocticula clicked her tongue and fell silent.

Arueshalae felt Nocticula’s threatening gaze on her, and Iomedae’s judgmental stare. She didn’t belong with either of them. But neither did Hilde. She finally realized. She and Hilde were the same. She had been where Hilde was going, they were both halfway on the precipice between the Abyss and Elysium. Only she was rising, slowly but surely, and Hilde was descending. No matter what the skald said, no matter what she believed, if she kept going she would become as horrible as Arueshalae used to be.

Hilde slowly turned to look at Arueshalae. Her eyes were sorrowful, her voice soft and timid. The succubus spoke, forcing each word out. “You’ve done so much for me, Hilde. You’ve helped me find my dreams and make peace with my nightmares… Desna showed me the path away from evil, but you are the one who showed me the path towards good. And after all you’ve done for me, I… I just can’t accept that you’re going to become a monster of the Abyss!”

“Arueshalae, I… I’m not. I’m using this for good. Why can’t you… Why can’t anyone see that? I’m fixing the Worldwound! I’m doing more than any holy-blooded crusader has in a century!” Anger and indignation crept into her voice, falling away as she saw the crestfallen look on Arueshalae’s face.

“You said that before these powers, your rage was like a graceful trance. Every battle was a delicate hymn woven with sword and magic, a terrifying yet beautiful prayer to Gorum. Can you truly say it’s the same now? I see how you are when the demon comes out. There’s no joy, no elegance, no awe, only rage and hate. Every time you indulge it, it grows stronger. And you manage to turn it towards good ends, because you’re so wonderful and so strong like that, but how long can that last? You yourself asked me to tell you if you started to lose yourself. Hilde, I am telling you that you are losing yourself.”

Her hand took Hilde’s gently, squeezing with delicate burning fingers. The demon snarled at the upstart succubus, did she truly believe her own delusions of good? Hilde forced it down, biting back any venom that might be directed at Arueshalae. But she still couldn’t… “I can’t just… Give it up. Maybe I am becoming a monster, but I’m too far-“

“No, you’re not. You can always turn back. You can always choose to be better. You showed me that. Back… Back then, you said that you loved me…” Her voice dimmed, terrified to let out the words before she gathered her courage and nearly shouted. “I need you to know that I love you too! Let everyone know, gods, mortals, and demons, I love you, Hilde! And it’s breaking my heart to see this happen to you. Please, free yourself of the Abyss, I’m begging you! I’ll help, I’ll be there for you! Like you helped me…”

The words hit Hilde like a thunderbolt, nearly staggering her back. Arueshalae… Loved her? Tears welled in the skald’s eyes, flowing down her bloodstained cheeks. She glanced down at her hand, clutched in Arueshalae’s. Arueshalae was right. She hadn’t even realized how far she’d gone. And she was hurting her friends, her crusade, and the woman she loved. If she kept going, there would be no turning back. She was trying so hard to help Arueshalae be better, she had forgotten to do the same herself. What a fool she was…

Hilde began to laugh softly, then broke into crying. Her voice was shaky as she calmed herself and spoke, squeezing Arueshalae’s hand back, “You… You’re right, Arueshalae. You’re right. I’m sorry. For everything. You deserved an azata or an angel. Not a demon…” She slowly let go of Arueshalae’s hand and turned back to Iomedae and Nocticula. “I’m sorry, I…” She let out a brief sob and wiped her eyes. “Iomedae… I’ll accept your help. Tell me how to strip myself of these powers and cleanse myself of the Abyss’s influence.”

[gayciate]

Cool Color Kids + Pokemon Parter HC's

Oughgghhh mashing more fixations together like dolls...

Isabela Madrigal

✨ Shiny Serperior | Nature: Adamant | Hidden Ability: Contrary

+ Graceful and sleek, Serperior is a classic 'mon with a regal air of beauty around it + Boasting a rare shiny variant I think would suit how propped up and admired Isabela is in the community + I see one possibly loaded down with a more passive, appealing set like Sweet Scent and Synthesis pre What Else Can I Do and branching into more offensive and experimental moves like Frenzy Plant and Leaf Storm after! + A little bit snooty, it tends to turn up its nose and glare at people who approach its trainer. I think it may intimidate away some unwanted attention, much to Isabela's relief + I can also see her with a Roserade or Petilil that eventually evolves into a Hisuian Lilligant! She seems like she may enjoy raising a variety of grass-types and I like to think she probably has a little nursery greenhouse area for them!!! + I think she'd also end up liking Cacturne (part dark) and Carnivine (not what would be considered "beautiful")

Luisa Madrigal

Mudsdale | Nature: Gentle | Ability: Stamina

+ A sturdy old gal, Mudsdale seemed almost too easy for Luisa - it's just so perfect for evolving from the donkey pokemon Mudbray and having the ability Stamina + I feel like Luisa would do very well to have such a strong and reliable buddy with her! It's both useful and calm-tempered, good to help her work and good to just relax with after a hard day's work

"It spits a mud that provides resistance to both wind and rain, so the walls of old houses were often coated with it." "Mudsdale has so much stamina that it could carry over 10 tons across the Galar region without rest or sleep." + I mean just look at those dex entries man...

+ Luisa feels like she'd connect with an overworked old horse and take it in, maybe even become softer on herself sometimes seeing that even this actual beast of burden needs rest and gentle care to thrive + I don't see her training a lot of pokemon, but I do see her devoting a ton of time to each one she does. She may specialize a bit with Ground, Rock, and Fighting but don't see her being all that picky with types! + I just want to draw a big giant Mudsdale sleeping soundly with Luisa leaning on its side taking a nap really

Mirabel Madrigal

Cosmog | Nature: Hardy | Ability: Unaware

+ Unusual and not fully understood, it's a pokemon with a lot of potential that may initially be clocked as having little power or use + I can definitely see Mirabel having a soft spot for pokemon that are deemed powerless or otherwise underestimated and taking in any weird ones cast aside + I don't see her having any hard type bias and raising pokemon as day-to-day companions more than anything else + Cosmog is also a naturally curious and explorative little fella who can teleport around and keep up with Mirabel's energy - I definitely see the two of them getting into all sorts of hijinks everywhere + The unaware ability actually just ignores the opponent's stat boosts and attacks directly through them - something that maybe parallels how Mirabel pushes through everything stacked against her? Maybe more of a stretch, I just think that Mirabel running around with a little cosmog in her bag is extremely cute + Can also absolutely 100% see Mirabel having an Eevee - absolute classic and certified perfect for anyone with an arc where they're trying to see/find themself

[dragonfelling]

SNIPPET SUNDAY #16

Been a bit since I posted much. Here's a small snippet of when Xavier tries to attack Innis but forgets he worked as a merc and has dealt with calokinetics his whole life. Innis talks down to old man like hes a child :D

-❄️🔥-

Guards were prey. Simple as that. They were easy to corner in a quiet hall and drag to the depths of the dungeons below.

Guards usually didn’t have anyone who would miss them. Most were young men who had few choices for social climbing. Guard work gave them power, good money, and community when they were poor in any of those facets of their lives. The guards cared for each other but they all understood well the risks associated with their position. It was the same case for servants but Xavier couldn’t help but find it distasteful going after such poor things. They couldn’t defend themselves if they tried- Besides, the men in the servant halls were a rare breed and Mav got frustrated over his little pet’s deaths. 

He was the reaper in these late hours, The tyrant ex monarch haunted the halls.

There was Innis… a Derre. Nephew of the monster the Aeraki kept downstairs. He was such a whore… he relished in his vices and wore them like a badge. He flaunted his lust and beauty and had attracted even Mav to beckon him to the Crowns room.

He had family but if he disappeared it wouldn't mean much. Really it would be so easy to blame the creature downstairs if it amounted to any drama. He too was a calokinetic after all, he too a brutal killer with a pension for slaughtering guards.

Xaviers hands splayed as he approached from behind. They reached upwards towards the back of the giant man's neck. With every inch came fluttering in his stomach. Excitement. Arousal. Caked burnt skin and screams would make his night. It would-

Innis turned his head, glancing down at the advisor with those focused, pale icy eyes of his. The man was so commonly seen with a dopey smile and a respectful bow that it seemed almost unnatural to see him in the dim evening with a hard frown spread across his face. 

The Dredhe broke the long deafening silence between them.

“Xavier?...”

Xavier froze for a moment, debating aborting the approach. His blood was hot though, air rippled between his fingers. He could still-

Xavier lunged forward and Innis grabbed for the advisors elbows. He shoved them upwards and away from his neck and face. With his palms now wrapped around his biceps he took a few steps towards the wall with Xavier in his grasp to shove him against it hard enough to push a harsh grunt out of him. He pressed up and the older man struggled to stay on his tippy toes so he didn't dangle. 

“Exactly what did you think you were going to do, sir..?”

When Xavier didn't respond immediately Innis squinted and gripped harder. He could feel the joints in his arms stiffen and a wash of alien cold run through his bones. Xavier felt himself unable to pull heat into his palms at all. Past Innis’ hands were dead zones.

Innis bent his head down to put his face inches from the advisors. His breath was terribly hot against his face while he talked, 

“It's easy to subdue a calokinetic like you, sir” he sighed dryly, looking him up and down.

“Please, I've been dealing with men with hands like yours all my life. 

“LET ME DOWN- NOW!” Xavier shouted, squirming and tugging against his powerful grip. 

Innis looked back into his eyes and blinked slowly,

“answer my question.”

“NOW!” He continued to scream, raising his foot to stamp down on Innis’ steel toe boots with his own. 

Innis adjusted his stance, a leg moving between the advisors. With a graceful slide of his foot he caught Xaviers ankle with his own, taking his leg out from under him. The man now dangled from Innis’ hold but he wouldn't leave him hanging for long. He lowered him to his knees and with a cocky chuckle he simply chirped,

“Better?”

No. It was not better. Xaviers face went red as he stared up at Innis with eyes as wide as they could open. He shivered, the cold running deeper into his veins and fear mingling with the remnants of  bloodlust. He hated himself for how his pants tightened between his legs. How he couldn't help but focus deep into the man's eyes as Innis knelt down onto one knee to be level with him. 

His face lingered close, merely a slight movement from his lips. He winced back at Innis’ low growly voice. He talked down to him like Xavier was his younger. Like a child. The respect and admiration in his tone before was gone now, replaced with a cold taunt,

“We won't do that again, will we…?”

Xavier gulped, nodding slowly. No, he couldn't. He was utterly humiliated and so quickly. He cursed himself for forgetting just the kind of man he was dealing with- forgetting the Derre was no mere exiled prince.

“We learned our lesson?...”

He nodded again, taking a deep shaky breath. He died inside at how butterflies ran up his stomach and threatened to come out his mouth. 

“Good. I'm glad we have an understanding.”

Innis stood back up before freeing Xaviers arms. He took a couple steps back before drifting down the hall without a glance back at the murderer he left on his knees.