#sound healing course near me

[rishikeshvinyasayogashram]

Sound Healing Teacher Training in Rishikesh

Rishikesh, the spiritual hub of India, is celebrated for its deep-rooted traditions in yoga, meditation, and holistic healing practices. Adding to its array of transformative offerings, Sound Healing Teacher Training in Rishikesh is emerging as a sought-after program for wellness seekers and aspiring healers. This immersive training goes beyond personal healing, empowering participants to share the gift of sound therapy with others.

If you’re looking to enhance your healing practice or embark on a fulfilling teaching journey, sound healing teacher training in Rishikesh offers the perfect environment, tools, and knowledge to realize your goals.

What is Sound Healing Teacher Training?

Sound healing teacher training equips participants with the skills, knowledge, and spiritual insight needed to practice and teach sound therapy. This training delves into the science of sound vibrations and their impact on physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Using instruments like Tibetan singing bowls, gongs, tuning forks, and crystal bowls, participants learn to facilitate sound healing sessions for individuals and groups.

Why Choose Rishikesh for Sound Healing Teacher Training?

Known as the “Yoga Capital of the World,” Rishikesh is more than a destination—it's an experience. Here's why Rishikesh stands out as the ideal location for sound healing teacher training:

Serene Environment: Surrounded by the majestic Himalayas and the sacred Ganges River, Rishikesh offers a tranquil setting conducive to spiritual growth and learning.

Spiritual Legacy: The city is a sanctuary for seekers, hosting numerous ashrams, retreats, and healing centers with a profound understanding of ancient wisdom.

Expert Teachers: Many sound healing training programs in Rishikesh are led by seasoned teachers with years of experience in both traditional and modern sound healing techniques.

Holistic Approach: Training programs in Rishikesh blend sound healing with yoga, meditation, and Ayurveda, providing a well-rounded learning experience.

Community of Seekers: The city attracts like-minded individuals from across the globe, fostering a sense of community and shared purpose.

What to Expect in Sound Healing Teacher Training in Rishikesh

Sound healing teacher training typically spans 7 to 14 days and includes a mix of theory, practical sessions, and self-reflection. Here’s an overview of what the training entails:

1. Introduction to Sound Healing

History and origins of sound therapy

Scientific principles of sound vibrations and frequencies

Understanding the chakras and their connection to sound

2. Mastering Healing Instruments

Techniques for using Tibetan singing bowls, gongs, and tuning forks

Working with crystal bowls and other instruments for specific healing outcomes

Learning how to create harmonious soundscapes for therapy sessions

3. Techniques and Applications

Facilitating individual and group sound healing sessions

Techniques for relaxation, stress relief, and emotional balance

Integrating sound healing into yoga and meditation practices

4. Teacher Training Essentials

How to structure and lead a sound healing class or workshop

Developing confidence as a sound healing teacher

Guidance on creating a professional practice

5. Personal Transformation

Deepening self-awareness through sound meditation

Daily yoga and pranayama sessions to enhance energy flow

Building a personal connection with the instruments and their vibrations

Benefits of Sound Healing Teacher Training

Sound healing teacher training in Rishikesh offers a host of benefits, both personal and professional:

Enhanced Self-Awareness: Training fosters introspection, helping you connect with your inner self.

Professional Growth: Certification enables you to teach and practice sound healing globally.

Stress Relief and Emotional Balance: The training itself is a therapeutic experience, helping participants release stress and cultivate inner peace.

Community Building: You’ll connect with a global network of sound healers and wellness practitioners.

Holistic Skill Set: Combining sound therapy with yoga, meditation, or other healing modalities enhances your offerings as a wellness professional.

Best Sound Healing Instruments for Beginners

If you're new to sound healing, these instruments are beginner-friendly and widely used in teacher training:

Tibetan Singing Bowls: Easy to use and versatile for personal and group sessions.

Crystal Bowls: Known for their powerful vibrations, ideal for deep healing.

Gongs: Excellent for creating immersive sound baths.

Tuning Forks: Precise instruments for targeting specific frequencies and chakras.

How to Prepare for Sound Healing Teacher Training

Open Mind and Heart: Be ready to embrace a transformative journey.

Healthy Lifestyle: Maintain a balanced diet and regular meditation practice before the training.

Comfortable Clothing: Wear attire suitable for meditation, yoga, and healing sessions.

Notebook and Pen: Keep a journal to record insights and techniques during training.

Also Read: - 200 Hour Yoga Teacher Training in Rishikesh

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Q1: Do I need prior experience in sound healing to join the training? No prior experience is required. Most programs in Rishikesh are beginner-friendly and designed to guide participants step-by-step.

Q2: Will I receive a certification after the training? Yes, most sound healing teacher training programs in Rishikesh provide certification, enabling you to practice and teach globally.

Q3: What accommodation options are available during the training? Many programs include accommodation in serene ashrams or retreat centers, offering comfortable and spiritually uplifting environments.

Q4: How can I integrate sound healing into my current practice? Sound healing complements practices like yoga, meditation, and therapy, making it a versatile tool for wellness professionals.

Q5: Are the instruments provided during training? Yes, most training programs provide instruments for practice. You may also purchase your own for continued practice after the training.

Q6: How long does the training take? Sound healing teacher training in Rishikesh typically lasts 7 to 14 days, depending on the program.

Conclusion

Embarking on a Sound Healing Teacher Training in Rishikesh is a journey of self-discovery, growth, and empowerment. Whether you’re looking to deepen your personal practice, expand your wellness offerings, or teach sound healing professionally, Rishikesh offers the ideal setting for this transformative experience.

Immerse yourself in the sacred vibrations of sound, guided by expert teachers, and leave with the skills and confidence to bring healing to yourself and others. Take the first step toward a fulfilling path as a sound healer in the spiritual heart of India.

[creativethreadcoaching]

Overcoming Public Speaking Anxiety- Your Guide to Confident Communication

Public speaking is a powerful tool for personal and professional growth. Whether you're pitching an idea, delivering a keynote, or simply speaking up in meetings, the ability to communicate effectively can open doors to countless opportunities. However, for many, public speaking triggers intense anxiety, holding them back from reaching their full potential. If this resonates with you, don’t worry—you’re not alone. With the right guidance, you can overcome this challenge and speak with confidence.

The Role of a Public Speaking Anxiety Coach

A Public Speaking Anxiety Coach provides personalized strategies to help you manage and overcome the fear of speaking in front of an audience. At Creative Thread Coaching, our expert coaches specialize in addressing the unique challenges of public speaking anxiety. We focus on helping you build self-confidence, develop a strong presence, and embrace your authentic voice.

How a Public Speaking Coach Can Help

Tailored Techniques Every individual has unique triggers when it comes to public speaking. A skilled coach works with you to identify these triggers and designs personalized techniques to address them, from mindfulness exercises to breathing techniques.

Practice in a Safe Environment Coaches provide a supportive space to practice and refine your skills, offering constructive feedback and guidance to help you improve.

Building Long-Term Confidence By addressing the root causes of your anxiety, coaching not only prepares you for a single presentation but also equips you with tools for lifelong confidence in public speaking.

Why Enroll in Public Speaking Anxiety Courses

If one-on-one coaching feels intimidating or you'd like to learn in a group setting, enrolling in a Public Speaking Anxiety Course is an excellent option. These courses are designed to help you:

Understand Anxiety: Learn the science behind why public speaking triggers fear and how to manage it effectively.

Master Presentation Skills: From structuring your talk to delivering it with impact, courses cover all the essentials.

Build Community: Connect with others who share similar challenges, fostering mutual support and encouragement.

At Creative Thread Coaching, our courses combine interactive workshops, real-world practice, and expert mentorship to ensure your growth as a confident speaker.

Finding a Public Speaking Coach Near You

If you’re searching for a Public Speaking Coach Near Me, look no further than Creative Thread Coaching. We offer both in-person and virtual coaching, making it easier than ever to get the support you need.

Benefits of Choosing Creative Thread Coaching

Experienced Coaches: Our team has years of experience helping individuals from all walks of life conquer public speaking fears.

Flexible Options: We cater to busy schedules with flexible coaching sessions and course formats.

Proven Results: Many of our clients have gone on to deliver powerful presentations, excel in their careers, and even enjoy public speaking.

Take the First Step Toward Confident Communication

Overcoming public speaking anxiety is possible with the right support. Whether you choose personalized coaching or group courses, Creative Thread Coaching is here to guide you every step of the way. Visit our website at creativethreadcoaching.com to learn more about our programs and take the first step toward becoming a confident communicator.

Your voice matters—let's help you share it with the world!

[comatosebunny09]

sensitive | sylus

— summary: sylus gets his ears pierced. — cw: reader is not mc, fluff, silliness, self-indulgent, a little suggestive, romantic dribble, inspired by the ear-piercing scene from loveless — wc: 1.8K

You’re surprised he can even get his ears pierced, given his rapid healing ability. 

Still, they look good on him—the onyx studs that take up most of his earlobes, matching his cufflinks. 

You stifle a quiet laugh behind your fist as the twins crowd around him, stars in their eyes. Their body language is animated as they praise Sylus and his fashion sense. He stands amid them, akimbo, smirking like a proud dad, a chuckle in his throat.

You wonder what influenced his decision to pierce his ears. 

That is until a pretty hunter pops her head into the front door behind him, her eyes creasing with mirth. 

She sidles up beside you, beaming like the cat who got the cream. Pats your shoulder, and you smirk at her in your periphery, shaking your head.

Of course.

“Let me guess: this was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“I know. I’m pretty awesome, right?”

You snort over folded arms. Leave it to Emcee to manipulate your boss into doing something so drastic.

—

You can’t keep your eyes off them—his ears.

One, because you’ve always found them to be one of his most adorable features. Two, because they’ve looked more irritated than usual, burning an angry red beneath the heavy gems in his lobes.

He seems uncomfortable with them, too. Wincing in meetings when he positions himself a certain way in his seat. An occasional, barely-there sound drawn from his throat when his hair scrapes his ears. And he’s more irate than what’s typical of Onychinus’ kingpin, lashing out unprovoked or being more quiet and reserved than you’re accustomed to.

You offer him painkillers to ease the ache. Even suggested he take the earrings out a few times; his ears are clearly sensitive, and perhaps the studs are too much for them to bear. 

But he waves you off with a tired smile. Reasons that they’re still healing, so he’ll just have to put up with the discomfort until then. 

—

“I feel terrible,” says Emcee for the umpteenth time, fiddling with the strap of her bag as she walks beside you through the mall.

“It’s alright,” you assuage, “you wouldn’t have known. I don’t even think he knows he can’t just wear anything. You know he’s bourgeois.”

She studies her feet, remorse twisting up her features. “I know. But I picked them out, ya know? And I’m the one who talked him into getting them pierced in the first place.”

You squeeze her shoulder, a reassuring smile curling your lips. “You did good. They look good. Maybe we can find something a little less gaudy, though. Something that won’t make his ears fall off.”

Emcee snorts, nudging you. She seems to be in better spirits, taking you in with those big eyes. “Yeah. Well, hey! Let’s stop here first!”

You don’t protest when she comically drags you into a jewelry store, her somberness an afterthought.

—

You’re as quiet as a secret, thanking your years of training for making you so. 

You slink into Sylus’ study, clutching a palm-sized, black box behind your back. He’s out conducting business, leaving the various trinkets and adornments of his office unprotected.

Giving the room another once over to ensure he won’t appear from the shadows—and that Mephisto isn’t around—you pad over to his desk, strewn with various papers and fountain pens.

Discreetly, you place the box on the edge near his chair where he’ll easily find it, the intricately curled scarlet ribbon catching in the ambient light. You try to make it look inconspicuous. Arrange some papers around it, fussing over its positioning before giving up.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous—it’s just your boss. Sylus, the man who isn’t afraid to sing like a metal pipe dragged over concrete in public. You’ve given him gifts before. Though you don’t think you’ve ever given him something so…personalized.

With your heart in your throat, you flee his study, praying to the powers above that he likes your present as much as you enjoyed picking it out.

—

“I wouldn’t put it past you to plant a bomb in my office,” Sylus teases.

You scoff from the opposite side of his desk. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it four years ago, bossman.”

He quirks a brow, studying you from the safety of his leather, high-backed chair. Seems to consider your words before you give him an exasperated look. 

He summoned you to his office a few hours after you’d snuck in. Of course, his security system picked up everything. You should’ve known.

You watch him fiddle with the box, your chest swelling with anxiety. 

“Just open the damn thing. It’s not a bomb.”

He taps his temple in that customary way, humor tugging at his lips. “That’s something that someone trying to kill me would say.” 

You roll your eyes, growing impatient.

Sylus doesn’t make you wait much longer, and you watch him tug at the ribbon with bated breath. Your heart seems to stop beating as he peels the box open, and he’s stock-still when he beholds what’s inside. 

He appears considerate. Quiet as his expression softens, eyes wavering between you and the box.

“Are these for me?” he queries hoarsely. Almost disbelieving.

You nod rigidly, fear and rejection coiling around your spine. You picked out hypoallergenic studs to hopefully curb his sensitivity. They’re modest yet stylish enough to complement his style.

Does he like them? Shit, does he hate them?

He chuckles something low. Something fond, and you feel it curdling in your stomach. He suddenly pushes away from his desk, and you blink rapidly, alarmed.

Sylus peers at you with a rare tenderness shining in his eyes. Expectant. “Would you like to do me the honor?” 

You gape like a fish out of water, owlishly blinking before you pick up what he’s talking about. “Uh, sure?” 

You inwardly kick yourself for how small you sound, how your voice cracks, and you awkwardly round his desk to stand before him, nerves wound tight. He leans back in a casual slouch, the soft mirth never leaving his handsome face whilst his eyes slide shut.

You step between his splayed legs, heat surging like molten liquid through your body. You pluck the matte box from betwixt his fingers, and you shudder when your skin meets. It’s strange; you’ve been close to him before. So why does tonight feel so…intimate?

Determined, you wet your drying lips with your tongue, pushing out a breath and resigning yourself. You bend slightly at the waist, fingers cautiously grazing over his skin to clasp one of his earlobes. You flinch when Sylus winces, a strained sound torn from his throat. 

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It’s alright.” He turns his head, offering you his ear, pretty lashes fluttering beneath a slightly furrowed brow. “Keep going.”

You swallow thickly past the sand in your throat. Try again, his fingers tightly gripping the armrests of his chair in your periphery. 

You feel awful. Know that his ears are still a little sensitive. But they’re soft and elastic beneath your fingers, and you’re hyper-vigilant as you remove one of his earrings.

His body tenses, legs threatening to lock around your hips as you stand between them. But he stops himself, instead giving you his other ear to repeat the process. 

He seems to relax once you’ve removed both earrings, lips slightly parting with a relieved breath out. You can’t help wanting to run your fingers along the cartilage. Want to rub the pain away. Maybe sink your teeth into it. 

“You’re sure this is alright?” you caution, plucking one of the studs from the box and setting said box on his desk behind you. 

He nods, holding his breath, brows knitting together. You feel like you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. Touching him in intimate places with the way he bristles and lightly gasps as you carefully slot each new stud in his lobes.

You’re grateful it’s over, taking a step back to appraise your work. And dammit it all, if he didn’t look good before…

“How do they look?”

“Hot,” you reply before you can think. 

Sylus chuckles at your brazenness, and the air seems to shift. An arm creeps around your waist, his massive hand finding the small of your back, its warmth bleeding through your blouse. Without warning, he tugs you closer until you stumble into him, your knee propped on the chair between his thighs. 

The look he wears is predatory. His eyes shine like dwindling coals, falling to your mouth before easing up to drill into your soul.

“Wouldn’t you like a closer look?”

His warm breath fanning over your face is dizzying. The proximity of his body to yours, his chest so pleasantly rigid and hot beneath your palms, and that devastating scent he carries is a recipe for disaster. There’s no mistaking his body language, the languid stir of his eyes. 

But you’re you, and this is your boss. Sure, you’ve been attracted to him for a very long time. But you’ve never acted on your infatuation, figuring he would reject you in favor of someone else. You didn’t want to muck up the relationship you’d worked so hard to construct. 

So, you laugh off his flirtations, attempting to quell the thumping of your heart in your throat. “Did Emcee talk you into doing shrooms, too?”

His voice crackles like a hearth fire. “Why? Do I look like I’m under the influence?”

You catch your breath, unaware you were even holding it. “No, but you’re acting kind of…strange.”

“Am I?” His hand makes several expeditions up and down your back, his free hand falling to your waist. 

You gasp, lips quivering, eyes hooded.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he murmurs, enamored by your mouth, “feel free to tell me to stop.”

How could you when he makes you feel like this? Witless, confused, hot? The English language eludes you when a slender finger crooks under your chin, slightly tilting your head back.

Your body is under his command as he lures you closer, fully intending to kiss you. Pleasant tingles ricochet through your bones when his lips graze yours, and you’re about to abandon your inhibitions and just kiss him.

Until the door of his study flies open, the heavy oakwood cracking against the wall, and you don’t think you’ve ever moved faster, scurrying away from Sylus to stand rigidly at his side.

“Hey, bossman,” says Kieran, oblivious to what he just interrupted. “Your guest is here.”

You don’t miss the growl roiling in Sylus’ chest, and if looks could kill…

You take the opportunity to slip out of his office while he’s giving Kieran an earful about manners, and you slink against a wall in the hallway once you’re out of earshot. A lovestruck smile crests over your face, your heart pounding beneath your fist curled to your chest. 

Perhaps you should invest in these heartfelt gifts more often if it means having more close calls like that with the object of your quiet pining.

[archangeldyke-all]

imagine Jinx survives and just pops up on readers's doorstep, and she's like, "...yay! I uhm..survived!" And sevika and reader are dumbfounded

ok lemme make up for that sad shit i wrote earlier today

also fuck it i'm gonna make it so isha's alive too don't ask me how

men and minors dni

nice as it is to live in a healing zaun, your new life comes with a few anxieties you never had to experience in the undercity.

the pressure of the entire city's infrastructure being overseen by just sevika is crushing. as much as the city is flourishing under her say-so, there are nights where you have hold her through her anxiety attacks.

there's the ever looming threat of an attempt on her life. she's made a lot of powerful rich enemies, and there have already been a few attempts.

and then there's just the grief. sometimes it paralyzes her, and you worry one day you won't be there to talk her out of the dark place she gets lost in.

so when you get home from the markets to the sounds of your wife sobbing in the living room, you picture the worst.

the eggs splatter to the kitchen floor as you drop your grocery bags to sprint through the house, dread coursing through your veins.

"sevika!? sevika, what's going on!?" you ask, horrified when you enter the living room. she's on her knees near the front door, her back shivering as she sobs. she's clutching something close to her chest and shuddering. "what is it!? sev, what's happening?!" you grab her shoulder and give her a tug, and your heart stops.

two matching heads of blue hair, one natural, one dyed, lift up from sevika's arms to look at you. "hey, sweetcheeks." jinx greets with a watery smile.

you collapse to your knees, sobbing and crawling forward to reach your family. "i-is this a dream?" you ask, grabbing isha's face in your hands. the girl smiles, in your grip and reaches up to grab your hands. sevika's arm wraps around your back.

"we... had to get away for a while. figure some things out. i'm sorry i didn't tell you-- i thought i'd have time to say goodbye during the war." jinx says. you reach one hand out to cup her face, desprately trying to soak up the sight of her.

her eyes are still pink, but the bags beneath them have lessened. her once shaved hair is now tickling her shoulders, and for the first time since you've known her, she's a little too big for the pants she's wearing.

and isha. isha's gold eyes shimmer just the same as they always have, and though she's taller and older, she's still got the same sweet, innocent smile she always had.

"this is real?" you ask, reaching out to tap sevika's arms.

"i don't know." she admits.

jinx chuckles. "always drama with these two, eh?" she asks. isha giggles and wipes up her snot with a nod.

missed you, ms. baby. she signs.

you pass out.

when you wake up, your heart sinks, and tears well up in your eyes.

a dream.

it was a fucking dream.

you should've known better. you wonder how many fucking years are gonna pass before you stop having these horrible, gut wrenching dreams.

"sweetcheeks? you awake? you hit your head pretty hard there-- can't have you dying right when we got reunited."

you gasp and snap up in bed, blinking owlishly at jinx. she chuckles and waves at you from her perch at the foot of the bed. something stirs beside you and you snap to your side, tears welling in your eyes when you find isha sleeping beside your pillow.

"it's real?" you ask. jinx giggles and nods, crawling forward slowly to wrap her arms around you. you sob in her arms and she laughs. "where the fuck is sevika?"

"would you believe me if i said she passed out too?" she asks. you pull away to gawk at her, and jinx sputters a laugh. "kidding! she's making up the guest room for us."

"not the fuckin' guest room anymore. you two are never leaving again, do you understand?" you ask, clutching jinx's face in your hands. she chuckles.

"alright."

"i'm not kidding jinx. you do that shit to me again, and i don't care if you're actually dead, i will raise you from the dead just to kick your fucking ass."

jinx cackles. "alright!"

"oh my god, i love you so fucking much." you sob, wrapping her back up in your arms. "i'll fucking kill you if you ever do that again i love you so much."

"alright, alright, janna, you're worse than sevika."

"she already gave you this talk?"

"when you were knocked out, yeah." she chuckles.

you huff and kiss her head. tears soaking her hair as you clutch her to your chest with one arm, the other reaching out to hold isha's ankle. "did you... sort all your shit out?" you ask.

jinx nods against you. "most of it. will you help me... stay on track?" she asks. you nod against her.

"there's nothing else i'd rather do in the world."

despite the fact that she's made up the guest room, none of you even attempt to pretend like the girls will be sleeping anywhere but in your arms tonight.

that's to say, the girls sleep. you and sevika stay wide awake, gawking down at them, memorizing their faces.

"they're really... here?" sevika whispers, tracing a finger down the bridge of isha's nose. the girl snorts in her sleep. you chuckle.

"yeah." you say, tears in your eyes. "they're here."

"i don't think i'm gonna ever stop crying." sevika says.

you giggle. "yeah, me neither."

"i love you so much." she whispers.

"janna, sevika. i love you too."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | b. chan <3

a/n: i was knocked out by a migraine for days and the main motivation for me to get better was so i could write this au :,-) i love sweet chan and this prompt in particular has been a favorite of mine my whole life !!! i hope you enjoy it <33 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.8k | warnings: none really! some mentions of food | pairing: soulmate!chan x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

soulmates meet in dreams every night, but your paths won’t cross in waking life until the time is right.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

whenever chan had a rough day, he would crave sleep more desperately than on his worst insomniac nights. today was one of those days. he couldn’t say that it was a bad day, but they were nearing the end of the tour, so his emotions and physical exhaustion were running high. he rushed through his nighttime routine, aching to fall asleep and see your face. he knew that, even if it were brief, being with you would keep him from completely falling apart.

“it’s about time you showed up!” you teased, grinning at chan when he walked into the living room you two designed.

“i’m really sorry, y/n,” chan sighed, falling onto the sofa, “these last few shows have messed with my sleep schedule more than i expected. i feel so bad that i haven’t been around as much.”

your heart broke when you saw his frown, “chan, i’m not mad. please don’t feel bad. i just miss hanging out with you, and this is the only place i can do it. i’m grateful for any time we get together during your busy schedule!”

“y/n…” chan’s frown turned into an adorable pout, “that makes me feel even more guilty. you can’t be so nice and understanding!”

you laughed when he put his head in his hands. you wrapped him into a hug, appreciating the giggles that escaped his lips at the close contact. 

“i miss you more,” chan mumbled against your clothing.

you shook your head, which, surprisingly, chan noticed, “don’t disagree with me! it’s true!”

chan smiled widely when he saw you laughing. he paused to enjoy the sound of your laughter. then, once your laughs quieted, he held both of your hands in his.

“i promise that i’ll rest a ton once i’m back from tour, okay? i’ll be on break for a while, so i’ll make sure i am at your beck and call every time you sleep. i’ll do everything i can to make it up to you, to make up for the lost time. i swear.”

the combination of his grasp and sincere gaze was almost overwhelming. chan always made promises with his full heart, and you knew that to be especially true right now. 

“i believe you,” you smiled, which prompted chan’s shoulders to relax, “thank you, chan. you don’t have to make it up to me. but you do need to get some more rest. i don’t want to have to scold you to take care of yourself the first time we meet!”

“you’re going to anyway, no matter what i do,” chan teased, laughing hysterically at your glare.  

you moved the conversation into lighter topics, soaking up his presence. though the visit was once again fleeting, you two enjoyed your time together. it was always healing to be with chan. whether you spent your dreams seeing the world or relaxing in a familiar space, you woke up feeling rested, all thanks to spending the night with your other half.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

after chan returned from tour, both of you happily settled into your normal routine. he kept his promise of resting more, much to your delight. rather than having to rush conversations, you could enjoy each other’s company throughout the night, only parting when your alarm went off in the morning. it was easy, natural. of course, there were days when the sunlight hit your eyes and left you feeling empty because that action alone separated you from your person. most days though, you beamed with gratitude because chan was recovering from his strenuous tour and returning to the happy-go-lucky man you knew him to be. 

last night’s dream was particularly wonderful. you and chan strolled around your favorite neighborhood while he told you all his favorite stories from tour. your heart always soared when you listened to the way he talked about seeing stays and joked about the antics he and the boys got up to while traveling. truly, the best part of it all was seeing him happy. the sparkle in his eyes and the upbeat tone of his voice were like a rush of sugar, the sweetest thing in the world. you confessed this to chan when a comfortable silence fell over you, and the last thing you heard before waking up was the sound of him giggling, highlighted by chan’s blushing skin.

perhaps it was chan’s sweetness that had you craving a treat as soon as you opened your eyes. stretching and soaking in the peacefulness of the late morning, you decided to go to your favorite bakery. it was the weekend, after all, and you wanted to do everything you could to maintain the happy mood chan put you in. after getting ready, you made your way to the bakery. the familiar route allowed your mind to wander, unsurprisingly to thoughts of your sweet soulmate.

the first dream you shared with chan was when you were six years old. you swung back and forth on the swingset in a quiet playground, covered nicely by the shade of a large tree. from beside you, a voice you had never heard before asked can i swing here too? you looked over, curious and unalarmed. when you saw the boy with curly brown hair smile shyly at you, you felt the tiniest of butterflies flutter in your stomach. you nodded, introducing yourself when he sat down on the swing next to you, i’m y/n. what’s your name? he grew more confident after hearing your voice, grinning charmingly as he said, i’m chan. it’s nice to meet you, y/n. you two watched the clouds float by, calling out the shapes you saw. in your childhood innocence and bravery, you suddenly asked, are you my soulmate? even as an adult, you could never forget the way chan’s ears turned bright red. how heartwarming it was for him to blush at the word “soulmate!” you didn’t need to hear him say yes, because the pink on his cheeks and the hopefulness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. you wondered, heart pounding in your chest, if he’d look at you like that the first time he saw you in the real world.

the sound of the bakery door’s bell ringing snapped you out of your reverie. you inhaled the decadent smells of the shop, fresh baked warmth fit for a saturday. your lovestruck thoughts of chan could wait. you had business to attend to. 

you greeted the employees, browsing the items on display. you took your time, selected your treats, and paid at the register. the place wasn’t too full, so you figured you could take a seat at a table near the window to appreciate the cozy ambience for a bit. you scanned for the closest empty table, nearly falling over when you locked eyes with someone.

well, not just someone. chan.

your mouth opened, but you couldn’t produce anything more than a few stammering syllables. chan’s eyes were wide with shock, quickly twinkling with happiness. soon, he started laughing. the sound bubbled out of him as though he were a child set free in a candy store, delighted beyond belief. you started laughing too. before people started to stare, chan waved you over to his table, pulling out a seat just for you.

“fancy seeing you here,” chan giggled through the cheesy line.

you rolled your eyes, smile never leaving your face, “don’t get me wrong. it is absolutely the best surprise in the world to see you here right now. but how does drinking a large coffee count as resting?”

chan lifted the coffee cup between you two, “oh this? i only got this because i couldn’t find a nap buddy anywhere. it looks like my luck might have changed though.”

he winked, making you blush and giggle like a teenager. not wanting to let him have all the fun, you grinned and replied, “i guess my first official duty as your soulmate is getting you to take a nap, isn’t it?”

now it was chan’s turn to blush. your body flooded with fondness, seeing the way his ears turned bright red at the word soulmate as it had when he first heard you say it. chan accepted your order when they called out your name, excitedly commenting on how good your taste was. the pep in his step was visible, though anyone who saw you would say that your pace matched his exactly. you two practically skipped the whole way back to your place, conversation flowing as though seeing each other was your plan all along. 

“can we take a second to talk about how crazy this is? that we finally met? after all these years, we’ve been only a handful of miles away from each other, and we met today?”

chan’s expression was full of glee and disbelief, and you agreed with his sentiment fully, “they really aren’t lying when they say you won’t meet until the time is right,” you paused, reminding yourself that this moment was real, “i do think it’s ridiculous we’ve practically been neighbors this whole time though. no wonder it always felt strange when you were on tour.”

chan pouted, “don’t remind me…that’ll make me feel even worse about leaving…” then, a smile replaced his pout, “at least now we know that every time i come back from traveling, i’ll be coming home to you!”

you returned his smile, only looking away to unlock your door. you slipped off your shoes and made room for chan to come inside. while you’ve dreamt of chan your whole life, nothing was more surreal than seeing him in your home. he looked so much like he belonged there, as though he had been inhabiting the space for as long as you. yet you stood there, staring, unable to believe that your dream had finally come true.

“what are you staring at, mon rêve?” chan asked, smiling sweetly.

“it’s just…” you walked across the room, meeting him halfway, “i can’t believe you’re here.”

chan hummed in agreement. without another word, he intertwined your hands, looking at you intently. you led him to your favorite nap spot, adjusting it so everything was just right. instinctively, your bodies molded together, finding comfort in the shared embrace. mere seconds after thank you left chan’s lips, you both slipped into sleep, breaths falling into your natural harmony.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed when you opened your eyes. it was strange, almost unnerving, to wake up from a dream that did not include chan. before the panic or sadness could settle in, you looked over to the man in your arms. you stared in awe at his lips curling up ever so slightly, his hair in disarray, and his chest rising to the beat of the precious heart you belonged to. every little detail of chan was at your fingertips, and it was more beautiful than any dream you had ever had.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[parkerslatte]

Fighter

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: blood. injury. near death experience.

Summary: Azriel was severely injured on a mission and his chance of survival is low and his mate and wife refuses to leave his bedside.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Azriel was laid motionless in his bed. The only indication of life was the shallow rise and fall of his chest that seemed to get slower and slower day by day. On the left side of his bed, Rhys and Cassian sat looking helplessly at their brother before them. There wasn’t anything they could do for him no matter how much they wanted to. 

Sitting on the right side of Azriel’s bed was Y/N. Her hand clutched his still and cold one between hers tightly. There were dried tears under her eyes as she looked at her mate and husband before her. The blanket covering his body did little to show the large scar staring from his hip and ending at his shoulder. It was an angry red but Madja had calmed everyone that the redness would go down with time. 

“If only I didn’t send him on that stupid mission,” Rhys mumbled. “Then he wouldn’t be here.”

No one responded. The only sound heard was the rain hitting the window outside. 

Y/N brushed Azriel’s hair away from his forehead. After the mission it had been caked with blood and grime and now after many washes it was soft to the touch. She only wished she could listen to his small content sighs as her fingernails scratched his scalp. 

“Don’t blame yourself, Rhys,” Y/N replied after a while of silence. “He would have gone on that mission regardless.”

“But I could have gone with him,” Cassian said. “I could have protected him.”

“And possibly gotten yourself hurt as well,” Y/N responded, finally lifting her gaze to meet Cassian and Rhys. “Then we would be in a position where both of you could have been severely wounded.” Y/N’s gaze returned to Azriel. “I don’t wish for Nesta to feel the way I am right now.”

“You shouldn’t be feeling like this at all, Y/N,” Rhys said. “You two should be in your own house safe and sound.”

“Well that is an impossibility right now, Rhys.” Y/N’s tone was clipped and short. “I’m sorry to ask you this but could I be alone with him?”

Rhys and Cassian immediately got to their feet. “Of course,” Cassian responded. 

“If you want or need anything Y/N, make sure to ask,” Rhys said as he placed his hand upon Y/N’s shoulder. 

“I’ll be okay.” It was all Y/N said. It was all she could say. 

When Rhys and Cassian left she barely heard them as she let fresh tears fall. “Az, you need to come back to me, baby.” Y/N shuffled her chair closer to the bed, her knees knocking painfully against it but she didn’t care. “I need you to wake up. I need you to open your eyes.”

There was no movement from Azriel and it only made Y/N’s tears fall in a more rapid succession. 

“Madja healed you the best she could but she made no promises that you would wake up. But I need you to, my love. Please, just give me a sign that you are in there, please, just anything,” Y/N’s voice was full of desperation and she spoke to her husband. Y/N didn’t even know that something could be as painful as this.

Y/N watched Azriel for any sign of him listening to her. But there was nothing. No flicker of his eye under his eyelids. No stutter in his breathing. No twitch of his finger. There was absolutely nothing. 

Y/N screamed. 

***

The sun was high in the sky and Y/N stepped through the gate to her and Azriel’s cottage. It was on the edge of Velaris, far from the centre of the city. In her small wicker basket, Y/N had two fresh bouquets of flowers, courtesy of Elain. The blistering heat made Y/N wipe the sweat from her brow as she approached her front door, fishing the keys out of the basket. 

As she went to place the key in the hole, she found that the door was open the smallest amount and Y/N’s guard immediately went up. As her grip tightened on the basket, she pushed the front door open. Their living room was large but cosy, filled with many blankets and pillows of all different textures. The windchimes hanging just beside the front door sounded out as a small breeze blew bast. 

“Hello?” Y/N called out, reaching for the dagger concealed behind a painting Feyre gifted her. 

However, Y/N immediately dropped the dagger and basket as her mate walked around the corner. A smile immediately spread across Y/N’s face as she launched herself at him. 

“Hi, baby,” Azriel’s low voice whispered in her ear as she wrapped her arms around him. His arms making their way around her, his hand cradling her head. 

“You weren’t meant to be back yet,” Y/N said. 

“I finished what I needed to do early,” Azriel mumbled into her shoulder. “The first thing I did was come here, even Rhys doesn’t know I’m back.”

Y/N gripped onto him tighter, afraid that if she let him go, he would disappear. It had been two months since Rhys sent Azriel on a mission and it had been two months since Y/N had spoken to Azriel. The only contact she had with him was the wave of love he sent through the bond each night, but that was never enough. Y/N craved to hold him within her arms. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N replied. “I would have stayed here to wait for you.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Azriel said.

“Well it has been the best surprise ever,” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug to capture Azriel’s lips with her own. 

Azriel dropped his arms to her waist, wrapping them around her tightly. Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead on his. “I missed you so much,” she said looking into his eyes. The colour ingrained into her brain.

“Well you’ll be happy to know that I won’t be going on any missions for a while,” Azriel said. 

“Why? Are you okay? Did Rhys tell you to take some time off?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought of the worst possible reasons. 

Azriel smiled brightly. The smile only Y/N got to see. “I’m fine, Rhys doesn’t know that I am taking time off yet.”

“Then why are you? Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Y/N said, pecking his lips. 

The smile on Azriel’s face only seemed to light up his face further. “Well since you and I are going to be planning a wedding, I will have no time for my duties.”

“Wedding?” Y/N asked. “What wedding?”

Azriel reached behind him. “Ours.” He revealed the most beautiful ring Y/N had ever seen. It was simple but it was perfect. 

Y/N stumbled back. “Az, you can’t be serious?”

“I’m completely serious,” Azriel said. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“But we have already been mated for years and you have never mentioned anything about getting married,” Y/N said.

“I saw how you looked when Elain and Lucien got married,” Azriel said. “And I’ll be honest that I bought this ring nearly a year ago, long before the wedding.”

“You want to marry me?” Y/N said, tears springing to her eyes. 

“I want nothing more in my life,” Azriel replied, taking her hand in his. “It would be an honour to call you my wife.”

A single tear fell down Y/N’s cheek but she smiled wide. “It would be an honour to call you my husband.”

“So is that a yes?” 

Y/N nodded. “Yes, Azriel. I will marry you.”

***

Y/N awoke with a smile on her face as she reached to the other side of the bed, searching for her husband’s warmth. Only when she opened her eyes did she realise what her reality was. Azriel was still laying in the bed and his breathing seemed even shallower than it had been before she fell asleep. 

Her chair scraped the floor as she leaned closer to caress his face. His dark eyelashes rested delicately on his cheeks, Y/N had always been jealous of them. There was no small flutter of them at all. All Y/N wanted him to do was open his eyes. His beautiful eyes. 

“Please,” Y/N whispered, her lips brushing his cheek. “Please wake up.”

“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway. Y/N hadn’t heard her open it. “I brought you some food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, her voice void of emotion.

Feyre sighed and made her way further into the room. “You need to eat something, it’s been days.”

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, settling back in her seat but kept Azriel’s hand firmly clasped between hers. 

“At least have a drink of water,” Feyre said, offering a glass to Y/N. 

Y/N tore her gaze away from Azriel and looked at the glass Feyre was offering. She didn’t want to take it but her mouth was dry. With great reluctance, Y/N released one of her hands from Azriel’s and took the class of cool water. 

“Have you been here all night?” Feyre asked. 

“I haven’t left since he was brought in here,” Y/N answered. “I can’t leave.”

“I know that you don’t want to leave him, Y/N, but you need to take care of yourself too,” Feyre said gently. “Why don’t you get dressed in some clean clothes? I will stay here with Azriel and if he moves, I will immediately come and alert you.”

Y/N looked at her mate and husband laying on the bed. “I can’t leave because I know that if I do, there is the possibility that he stops breathing.” Tears glistened in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at Feyre. “And I will regret for the rest of my life that I was not there with him while he passed.” 

Feyre placed her hand on top of Y/N’s and gave it a small reassuring squeeze. “I have not known Azriel as long as you, Y/N. But what I do know about him is that he is a fighter. And above all, he will always fight for you, he will always fight to come back to you.”

Y/N sighed. “I know. And I will always fight for him. But this time it is different, Feyre. I have seen Az injured beyond what I thought could be possible. I have seen wounds like you would ever believe, but he powered through it. You never saw the look on his face when he appeared on the doorstep. He was scared, Feyre. I had never seen that look on his face before.”

Y/N took a shaky breath and stood from her chair and perched on the edge of Azriel’s bed. Her hand gently cupped his cheek. 

“I had never seen such fear in his eyes. When he collapsed in my arms he whispered one thing in my ear, ‘I will always love you both’. He did not believe that he would survive. He risked everything so he could see me one last time.” Y/N said. 

“‘I will always love you both’? What did he mean by that?” Feyre asked. 

“I’m pregnant, Feyre,” Y/N said and allowed the enchantment that concealed her scent to fall. “We were going to tell everyone after he was home and we had a few days just to ourselves. But it seems like we will never get the chance. I can feel the bond fading every single minute. It feels like I am clutching at air trying to hold onto it.”

“He will wake up, Y/N,” Feyre said, determination lacing her tone. “Even if I have to wake him up myself, I will make sure he comes back to you. I will make sure he will meet his child.”

Tears fell freely down Y/N’s cheeks. “I really need him to come back, Feyre. I can’t do any of this without him.”

“He will wake up, Y/N. Az would never leave you alone. In the years I have known you both, I have never seen two people so in love with one another. Whenever you walk into the room, he lights up. Whenever your name is mentioned he listens in. Whenever you smile at him, his shadows always seem happier. He thinks no one notices but we all do.”

“I love him so much, Feyre,” Y/N sobbed. “I need him so badly.”

Feyre shuffled closer and hugged Y/N. “He will come back. You will get to hold him in your arms again. He will meet his child and the two of you will live happily. There is no possible way on this planet where Azriel would let you live in a world where he isn’t in it.”

Y/N nodded into Feyre’s shoulder. “You make him sound like a stalker.”

Feyre let out a quiet laugh as she pulled away and wiped the tears from Y/N’s face. “Now let’s get you some proper food. Because you know that Azriel will kill you if he finds out that you are not taking care of yourself.”

Y/N smiled. It is small and barely there but it was a smile. “Yeah, he would.”

“I need to make Nyx his lunch so what do you say about sandwiches?” feyre asked. 

“Sandwiches are fine with me,” Y/N answered. 

As Y/N began to pull her hand away from Azriel’s, she felt his fingertips curl around hers. He head snapped to where they were connected. A small gasp left Y/N’s lips as she clutched his hand a little tighter. In return she was greeted by his grip twitching within hers. 

“He moved,” Y/N said. “He moved Feyre.”

A soft smile appeared on Feyre’s face. “He knows you’re here,” Feyre said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

As soon as Feyre was out of the room, Y/N sat back down by Azriel’s side. “Hey, baby. I miss you and love you.” Another gentle squeeze of Y/N’s hand. She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I can’t wait until you wake up. It may be many months away, but our child is desperate to meet you. They’re desperate to hear your voice again. And so am I. I can’t wait to listen to you tell me about your day, about how much you love our small family. I can wait to hear a stupid joke you heard that you will only ever tell me. I just can’t wait until you wake up.”

Azriel didn’t squeeze Y/N’s hand again but deep down Y/N knew that he heard it and knew that she was there. She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles before placing it down by his side once again. “I love you and I will see you later.”

***

It had been three days since Azriel had first squeezed Y/N’s hand and he had been making more movement since. His chest rose and fell in a healthier succession and there was the occasional twitch of his fingers, always in the direction of Y/N. Azriel was always reaching out in the direction of his mate and wife. 

Y/N still constantly remained by Azriel’s side, but occasionally took breaks to look after herself and the baby growing within her. Y/N had taken the time to inform the rest of the Inner Circle about her pregnancy and the news was greeted with congratulations but Y/N could tell they were holding back. The one other person who should have been celebrating with them could not be there. 

“I’m just saying that if it's a boy, you should name him after me,” Cassian said. 

Y/N had found herself once again in the company of Rhys and Cassian. Both of the males wanted to sit beside their brother in hopes he would wake up. Unlike the first time the three had sat together, the atmosphere seemed to be a little lighter. 

“Az is certain that it's a girl,” Y/N responded. “He wants to name them after his mother.”

Y/N looked down at Azriel with a small smile on her face. She could still picture his excitement when she told him that she was pregnant. Almost immediately he wanted to go out and start buying things for their child. 

“That’s sweet, but Cass can still be a girl’s name,” Cassian remarked, a teasing grin on his face. 

Y/N shook her head, a small amused smile creeping onto her face. 

Cassian groaned. “Rhys, when you and Feyre have another kid, what about the name–”

“I’m not naming our second child after you either,” Rhys replied. “Maybe go and pester Elain and Lucien next.”

Cassian laughed. “I still think it's a great name. You are missing out.”

“I’m not naming my child after you, Cassian,” A new voice entered the room. It was quiet and groggy.

Y/N’s gaze immediately shot down to the bed and noticed that Azriel’s eyes were opening and the grip he had on her hand tightened. 

Tears sprung to Y/N’s eyes. “Az…”

Azriel groaned as he shifted his head to look at Y/N. As soon as his eyes met hers, Y/N felt the bond come to life and that was when she broke down. So many emotions filled Y/N within seconds and she threw herself down on the bed, her head resting on Azriel’s chest. 

“My love, I thought you were gone,” Y/N wailed. 

Azriel slowly moved one of his hands to caress the back of her head. “I would never leave you. Either of you.” His voice was quiet and hoarse, yet Y/N could hear the love within it. 

Y/N lifted her head to look at Azriel and noticed both Rhys and Cassian slowly making their way out of the room. She noticed the tears shining in their eyes. 

“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N said.

Azriel slowly pushed himself up on the bed, wincing in pain as he did so. 

“No, no,” Y/N said, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve done enough resting,” Azriel said, settling back against the headboard. “All I want to do is look at my wife and hold her in my arms.”

Azriel gently tugged Y/N forward until her forehead rested on his. “I heard everything you said to me.” He revealed. “I tried to move, I tried everything but I couldn’t. I had no way to reach you. I never thought I’d ever see you again. I never thought I would meet our child.”

A single tear fell down Azriel’s face and Y/N hastily wiped it away.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, gently cupping his cheeks. “All that matters is that you are here and you are okay. We don’t need to think about that anymore because you are awake and here.”

“I love you,” Azriel whispered. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied. “Just promise me that you are not going on any missions for a while.”

“I won’t be,” Azriel said. “I will not be leaving this court at all until our child is born and probably long after. I don’t want to be put in this position again. I don’t want you to ever nearly lose me again. I want to see our child grow up. I want to be by your side for eternity. No mission or job could ever come before my family.”

Y/N gently pecked his lips. “I am so glad you are here, my love.”

“I will always fight to get back to you, Y/N,” Azriel said, nothing but love in his tone. “I love you too much to ever let you go.”

Y/N didn’t respond verbally, instead she gently shuffled forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head into his shoulder. Azriel’s arms immediately latched around her, keeping her pressed against his body. Even when Y/N tried to pull away slightly to not hurt him, Azriel refused to let her. Y/N just relaxed into him. 

“Madja will need to come and check on you at some point,” Y/N mumbled. 

“Not right now,” Azriel said. “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Rhys and Cass will want to see you too,” Y/N said. 

“They can wait,” Azriel said. “And all the others can wait. Just for tonight I want to spend my time with my family. Just you and our child.”

Y/N pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “Then let’s just lay here all day then. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”

“I cannot believe how lucky I am that I have you in my life, Y/N,” Azriel said, the stubble on his face scratching her bare shoulder from where her robe had fallen. 

“I am the lucky one, Az,” Y/N said. “I am lucky enough to have someone who would fight so hard to come back to me.” Y/N leaned back from the hug and placed his hand on her stomach. “To us.”

“I love you,” Azriel said, wrapping his arms back around Y/N’s body. “I love you both.”

Y/N only hugged him tighter and that was the way the small family remained, completely wrapped up in their own little world.

[inkyrainstorms]

The Martian Stan AU - The Apology - Excerpt

Ford was working as he always was nowadays, half listening to the radio behind him and trying to stop his heart from jumping in his throat every time that Stan stopped speaking for more than 10 minutes and nothing but static filled the room again. Ford wasn’t sure what exactly his brother was talking about anymore, as he welded a set of support bolts into place, but he nearly dropped the welding gun on his foot when Stan suddenly spoke after a long stretch of silence.

“Ford?”

Ford fumbled for a moment before shoving a stack of loose paper aside and  setting the welding gun down on the table beside him. He put his hands on either side of the radio on the same cluttered table and took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

“Yes, Stanley?” He asked softly.

Stan, of course, didn’t hear him, but had paused as if waiting for a response before continuing anyway.

“I know, I know damn well you’re probably never gonna hear this, but I need to say it anyway before… Well. I don’t need to eat as often and shit and I know you’d love to figure out why but… I’m not sure how long I’m gonna last out here either way.”

Ford didn’t say anything, staring down at the wooden grain of the table like he could burn a hole clean through it with his thoughts alone. His palms ached from where he’d dug in his fingernails, and his shoulders mangled to hunch even further.

Stan laughed. It was a bitter, ugly sound.

“Ah, damnit. This isn’t about me. Can’t even do this right, you idiot” His brother took a deep breath. “ But Ford… I think I need to apologize.”

Some old, fossilized hurt in Ford’s heart snarked ‘you think?’, but Ford nearly gagged as he suffocated the thought before it could take root anew. He felt sick.

Oblivious to Ford’s turmoil —and of course he was, because he didn’t know Ford was right here, that Ford wasn’t going to let one of the last things he ever said to Stan be that he thought Stan was worthless— Stan continued.

“I don’t think I ever got to, back when… you know. What I said that night is a bit of a blur to me to be honest, but I know I was spouting nonsense and saying all the wrong shit and… Moses, Ford. I know it’s too late now but I’m sorry. I really am.”

Something in Ford simultaneously healed and broke in his chest at Stan’s words, but he didn’t get the chance to process it because Stan wasn’t quite done yet.

“And I need you to know it wasn’t on purpose. I’d never do that to you. Never. Why would I ever want to hurt you like that, poindexter? I just… I was scared and I didn’t want to be alone in Glass Shard Beach scraping barnacles off the Taffy shop for the rest of my miserable life and I wasn’t. Thinking.” Stanley’s voice had been rising in a steady crescendo, but suddenly got so quiet that Ford had to strain to catch the words in the buzzing static. “I’d… I shouldn’t have gone into the gym. I shouldn’t have even gone near your friggin project. I didn’t go there to break it, I would never—“ his voice broke. “I thought you knew that. I’m your brother, you dingbat, why would I ever want to hurt you?When did I ever not support you, man?”

“Then why did you do it?” Ford whispered back, just as quiet. That old anger he’d tried to push down rose up again, simmering. Stan knew he’d poured months of his life into the perpetual motion machine, that he’s shed more than a few tears and more than a little blood and sweat over it. And then he’d thrown it all away?

“I’d only hit the table, ya know. Didn’t think the grate’d pop off or anything like that. I tried to fix it. I know I should’ve told you, I know and I’m sorry, just…” I was scared, goes unspoken. Ford’s legs were shaking, and he tried to steadily himself by leaning further on the table. “I know I should’ve told you. I know. I messed up fuckin’ good, Sixer.” Ford flinched.

“I’m. I know you’re never gonna get the apology you deserve cause I was too much of a coward to actually call you and say something.” Stan’s voice was shaking. And I’m sorry for that too. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about your stupid book, and I’m sorry— ugh. We’ll be here all day trying to name my fuckups. That’s the last sorry you’ll ever hear from me you nerdy, uh, nerd.”

Stan sighed loud enough for the radio to crackle and screech. “Good going, Stan,” he muttered, his voice getting quieter as he evidently walked away, done.

And all that was left was static.

Ford pushed himself away from the table and sank into the rolling chair nearby, putting his face in his hands and trying to breathe as the chair was pushed back several feet from his momentum.

“He’s lying,” Ford tried to say, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “He’s trying to make it so… so.” He faltered. “He’s obviously trying to deceive me.”

Trust no one.

But he had trusted Stan. And Stan got hurled into a Dimension of Nightmares for it.

Stan has no reason to lie, Fords mind whispered, because it was always against him no matter what stance he took. He doesn’t think you’re coming to save him. Why wouldn’t he try to explain the worst mistake of his life in a fit of guilt and complete loss of hope?

“Shut up,” Ford said intelligently, and he didn’t dare pry his face away from his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and pushing up his glasses to his hairline

Stan had no reason to lie.

Stan came to help him at the drop of a hat after ten years of being too afraid to even call him. 

Stan… Stan didn’t mean to break his project. It was a stupid accident, done by a stupid teenager too afraid to admit his own failings. Stan didn’t betray Ford. Not like he thought his twin had, for all these years.

Ford was wrong. About everything. He was wrong about Stan and Bill and Fiddleford and, Moses, had he ever done anything right in his entire, miserable life? Ford didn’t know. 

The empty bunk bed beneath his own  for those last few fateful months before Backupsmore, the tears and screaming at a boat that never even left the shore, the years of resentment and refusing to believe he missed his own twin, what was it all for? Because Ford suddenly felt the sharp sting of grief all over again, throbbing with a ferocity he’d refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Years. 

It was like he was 17 years old again, mourning for all the wrong reasons and all the right ones too. For his brother. For his chance to become someone worthy of recognition, of love. For pushing away the ones who’d already loved him.

For the first time since the day Stan fell into the portal all those weeks ago, Ford pulled his knees up to his chest on the seat and, in the safety of his own arms, he wept.

The static crackled on, steady and unchanging. Unforgiving.

———————

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @littlelilliana15 (if anyone else wants to be tagged pls let me know! I’m going to probably be posting more for this au sometime this week)

I have ideas for a mini comic and a whole animatic using Space Oddity so I’ll just have to see how far I get, really

[ma1dita]

special, secret, and stupid

'between certainties and doubts' installment part of the mean!remus agenda, aka a moment from a terrifyingly convoluted teenage situationship between remus lupin and an unidentified Hogwarts student (x fem!reader) wc: 1.4k a/n: remus likes the forbidden forest as much as he likes you. no warnings. loosely based off a true story. feel free to send me treacherous situationships yall have been in because gawd. anyways we up

—

You could say that what you and Remus Lupin had was quite special. 

You’d think so, at least—the thumps of your heart within the sanctuary of your ribcage seemed to call out his name whenever he was near. 

Re–mus, lub-dub, Lu–pin, lub-dub…. all of it, every syllable sounded and felt the same to you. 

It was hard to put into words and much less definable for him or you. Or maybe it was easy to convince yourself that; despite sharing everything from kisses to Transfiguration notes, Remus never was really the type to talk about his feelings. Not to you at least. You always wondered if the Marauders knew anything about what you two shared.

But when you were with him, just the two of you—all of what this could mean faded into the background. It was easier to just watch him walk to you like a sailor drawn in by a siren song, a coy smile on his scarred face as he grabs your hand and you both walk further into the Forbidden Forest simply tethered together for a moment in time.

“Let’s go before the others catch us, yeah?”

Of course, when you were in Remus’ company, he always made sure it was just that—only you two.

Sunlight peeked through the leaves in the trees overhead, shining on the golden brown of his hair that fell over his eyes like a halo as he watched you smiling up at him instead of focusing on the path you were walking on. 

“Watch your step,” he chuckles, pulling you against his side as you trip on a stray branch. Remus notices that the forest echoes with your happiness—all he wants to do is drink it in. So as soon as your hands wrap around his waist to steady yourself, his lips are on yours. With the way he kisses you so feverishly you swear you’d let him suck you dry. His lips are slightly chapped, latching onto yours as if you’d soothe them with your own—a salve that he can keep in his pocket for moments like this when the pit in his stomach that gnaws at his insides need healing that an Episkey or any Bruisewort balm can’t fix.

His attachment to you was unhealthy, Remus knew that—but Godric, there was no making sense of it when he was too busy pressing himself against the softness of your body.

Your heart is beating out of your chest by the time you pull away—almost jumping out of your throat and for a moment you’re scared that he’d be able to hear it. There’s a desperation in the way you look at him that always leaves you breathless. Only he could have this much power over you, and he wrangles it with a tenderness that makes you believe he might want to be yours, only sometimes, in moments like these.

“We won’t make it to the water if you don’t stop,” you tease, and he groans dramatically as you tug him by the wrist toward the lake’s edge. It was far enough out of sight from the grounds for a bit of privacy, but easy enough to fall into without it being too deep. One by one, your articles of clothing drop to the rocks at your feet, and when you turn to look for Remus he’s already staring down at you, observing the curves of your hips. 

“Don’t be weird,” you mumble, hiking up the straps of your panties up higher as you gaze at him over your shoulder. Remus is stripped down to his boxers, spring air whipping through the cotton fabric, making you giggle when he holds it down like a skirt billowing in the wind. His frame is lithe and his posture quite ill—you’ve told him countless times to fix the crick in his neck when he pours over the books he reads, to no avail. Scars litter his skin in reckless abandonment, much like how he got them, you suppose. You've never pressed him for information about his past, too focused on trying to be his present. Lean muscle ripples as he crosses his arms–to hide away from the intensity of your staring and as he always does best—Remus deflects.

“You’re acting like I haven’t seen it all already,” he shakes his head, pulling at one of your bra straps as he passes and it ricochets against your skin with a sharp snap. He proceeds to toss himself oddly into the water only after seeing your brow furrow. Remus loves the reactions he can pull out of you—instinctual, like breathing. The splash sends the water up to your knees.

“Come on, cariad! We came here to swim, didn’t we?”

And you’re shaking, adrenaline pumping through your veins at the sight of Remus Lupin smiling at you as he wades through the water, looking like a wet dog and you think that if you keep this jig up long enough you could fall in love with him.

How frightening is it, to look at someone and want to immortalize them in that moment—as he reaches out for your hand to pull you deeper into the water, the fear dissipates the further you both go. Your feet barely touch the ground, arms slung around his shoulders as you hang on for dear life, giggling as he spins you, the both of you bobbing like a restless buoy. Remus is resting his cheek against your chest and his smile is imprinted on your skin and you know that whenever you think of springtime at the Black Lake, you’ll remember this exact memory.

“I’m scared to let go of you,” you say with such honesty that your voice wavers as you look into eyes that are as green as the forest behind him—there’s something in them that reflects off the water, a feeling simmering below the surface that you try to chip away at, “What if I go into the deep end?”

Remus is laughing now, ever so sweetly that the sound rumbles against your collarbones, rattling your ribcage as he holds on tighter. Your legs wrap around his waist loosely at the junction of his hips and it makes you wonder how you two have always fit so perfectly.

“Do you really think I’d let you go?”

Moments like these were special, just like what you two shared, whether either of you wanted to say it aloud or not.

Whether it was allowed, or not.

The two of you always made the most of it before reality could come crashing down like a tidal wave. By the time you both set yourselves out to dry, your hands were pruny, wrinkled, and still interlocked with one anothers. Remus leads you over the moss-covered rocks, a subtle smirk on his face as you squeal, slipping on algae, clinging onto him like a lifeline and he revels in the feeling of being strong for someone, being what you need, even if just for this moment.

You’re slower than him while you both get dressed, trying to savor even just a few more minutes of him, linen sticking to damp skin and he tosses his sweatshirt at your head—the thunk echoes in the silence of the trees when you catch it. 

“Dry up properly, lovely. Don’t want you getting sick.” 

Shrugging it over your shoulders, you take a moment to sniff it—old books from the library, medicinal mint, and Honeydukes chocolate. It feels warm from baking in the sunlight, or hugs he gives you when no one else is around.

“Did you have a good day, handsome?” 

His cheeks redden when you call him that, as if it surprises him each time you do, “I always have a good day with you,” he licks at his lips, thumb on your chin as he pulls you in for another kiss. You always let him, and that might be why he likes kissing you so much.

Your mouth is warm and soft, lips slanting against his own and you pour yourself into him—so much that he feels how badly you want this to work. Your hands press against his chest, and he thinks you have to be resuscitating him by doing this—a kiss of life can be the only explanation for why he’s so disoriented by your touch.

Remus forces himself to pull away with a staggered breath.

“I’ll catch you later, alright? Am late to meet the boys, already. Owl ya,” he scratches the back of his neck with one hand, hair damp and sticking out in odd directions—you run your hands through it and he tries not to preen, taking in a gulp of air and the scent of your skin, salty and sunlit. 

You look like his idea of a perfect day, he thinks, holding your face in his large, rough hands.

“Yeah, okay.”

Remus lets go of you, slowly—its a struggle to do so. He turns around, flexing his hands as he sticks them in his pockets and walks back to Hogwarts without waiting for you. Girls like you must be why this forest is forbidden, he swallows, because there are many moments that Remus is convinced he’s made you up in his mind.

Moments with him always felt special even if they were always a secret. Even if you'd always feel stupid after.

And you’re left standing there alone, with your feet muddy as you bend down to pick up your shoes, wondering if the rapid heartbeat of his that you felt under your fingertips was a warning bell with your name on it.

—

i don't do taglists anymore! follow @ma1dita-mail & turn on post notifs 🤍

[hearts4johnwick]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ Love Me Again. / M. Murdock.

SUMMARY. 𝜗𝜚 matt swore that before marrying you, he’d let go of daredevil—he did, now it’s been almost a decade and wilson fisk is now mayor, which makes hell’s kitchen even more dangerous than it was before—calling daredevil, breaking matt’s promise.

CW. 𝜗𝜚 m. murdock x reader / established relationship, reader is whatttt??? angst, arguments, wounds, blood,

A/N. 𝜗𝜚 ahhhh yes, my favorite genre… superhero’s partners getting upset over them when they’re bruised or cut up and fighting with them because they can’t bare to see them like this… exquisite 🤌

The lock to Matt’s apartment twists with a click announcing that the door is open, your footsteps as you climb up the stairs let Matt know of your arrival, which makes him stand immediately and run to his room, searching for a shirt to cover his scarred body.

“Matt, I’m home!” You take off your coat and place it on the coat hanger, then toss the keys on the island.

Matt comes out of your shared room, you smile when you see his, he walks over to you and places a soft kiss on your lips, his hand finding its place on your lower back while you rub his shoulder. “How do you feel?” He asks.

“Tired, glad to be home.” He nods and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“So am I.”

“I’m going to change, can you prepare me some tea or something?”

“Of course, I’ll be right on it.” He walks into the kitchen as you walk into your bedroom.

You place your bag on the drawer and take your heels off, your height quickly shortening once the plant of your feet touches the ground. You chuckle at yourself and shake your head.

You hear a buzz coming from your bag, you go ahead and take your phone out and you see that you have received a message. It’s from your sister, who had just texted you that she’s back in town. You reply to her fast and quickly make plans, you go and let Matt know, but as you are exiting the bedroom, you notice him making you the tea, with his back facing you.

You notice something.

The spreading red patch on his back. You take a deep breath and walk closer to him.

“Weren’t you going to change?” He asks, the scent your button-down has lets him know you haven’t changed.

“Yes…” you trail off. He turns back to face you and you force a smile. “My sister is back in town.” Matt’s expression lights up with a smile.

“Really? That’s great! Are you planning something with her?” He questions and you swallow the lump in your throat, you saw the red patch on his back and you can’t focus.

You can’t focus on the smell of the tea, or the honking outside, or the fact that Matt smells amazing, or the sound of another notification coming through, or the kicking sensation in your belly, you can only focus on the goddamned red patch.

“Matt.” He senses the change of tone, your heartbeat skipping a few beats and speeding up. “Turn around.” Your tone is demanding, your breath shaky.

Matt knows why you’re demanding this, he feels the wet feeling of blood seeping through his shirt, he knows, and this makes his heart drop. He feared this moment, that’s why he immediately looked for a shirt, he didn’t want to lose you.

He sighed softly and turned around, not only was there one red patch, there were multiple ones now, including one near his kidney area. Your hands find your mouth, covering and muffling the loud gasp that had just left you.

“Oh my, God! Take it off!” You say and he turns around, trying to grab your hands, which you yank back.

“Y/n—“ he calls out.

“Matt. Take. It. Off.” You say, your voice cracking. He backs away and removes his shirt, you hear him groaning from the pain.

Your eyes rapidly land on the multiple cuts in his body, some healed, some bloody, recent ones. You shake your head and almost immediately feel the tears pooling your eyes. You take a few steps away from him, and you hear him let out a shaky breath.

“Matt. You…” your mind slaves as it looks for words.

“I know. I’m so—“

“You swore. Matt, you swore!” He nods, his feet following your steps.

“Yes, I know, but, please, listen to me…”

“No, no, Matt. I’m not going to listen to you! I’m not going to accept your apology—You swore, and you broke that promise, you swore you’ll never go back, for me, for us!” He chokes at the usage of “us” in your argument because he knows it’s not him, it’s you, you, and the life you’re carrying.

“Y/n.”

“Matt. You swore.” Your voice is now raspy, your face all wet by the tears you’ve let go now.

“Y/n. This city isn’t safe. Fisk is mayor now, and I can’t—I can’t watch it all go to hell, knowing I can do something about it, knowing I can keep you two safe, because that’s all I want, that’s all I need.” He says, and silence drowns the two of you, nothing but the sound of your soft sniffles and Matt’s shaky breath between you.

“The only way we can be safe is without you.” This pains you to say, it weakens you. And those words are more than enough to strike fear into The Man Without Fear, but God knows you’ve had enough. So has he, not of you, never of you, but daredevil, kingpin, bullseye, the city, you were his savior, his everything, everything he needed to get away from his problems, it was you, but now, he lost you.

You grab a pair of shoes from the shoe rack at the start of the hallway and grab the keys from the island so you can come later and grab your stuff, along with your coat as you open and slam the door.

Matt feels drops of tears roll down his face, just as you feel tears streaming down yours, Matt can hear the way you stop running down the stairs to sob and gasp for air, but you can’t hear as he sits down on the cold ground to do the same. He can hear how you softly pray for things to get better, but you can’t hear how he softly prays for you to come back home. He can hear how you dial your mother’s phone number on your phone and tell her to expect a guest, but you can’t hear how he holds himself because the only person he had, just left.

❛ i told you once i can’t do this again,

do this again, oh no. ❜

[scara-writes]

100% perfect

GN!Esper!Reader x Y!Guide!Male OC

Note: hello im back. A lot happened, I had an anxiety attacks, my mind has been having a lot of bad thoughts, my dog passed away last year—three months ago... I didn't have a lot of time for me to write since I've been grieving for my dog's death up until now but I'm okay, I'm healing... Anyway, my writings is rusty and probably didn't improve. I know some of you guys really tried to reach out through ask and I'm kind of happy. Thanks. For now I'll give this to piece of one shot for a new year. This Esper x Guide thing I made might not be accurate. All i know is they are similar to Alpha x Omega shits except the curse thing on espers. This might be cringe. i will try to edit it. I will try to update the other oc's as well.

-also please do not do this, i do not condone anything in this story. This is purely fiction and be kept as a fiction.

CW: implied se(g)s, implied suicide(mention), yandere, drugging, manipulation, dynamic power, etc.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"(Y/n)!!" A ginger haired male rush up to you, hugging you by the time you step on the greenery field of the university. Pastel blue of sweater was the first thing you see before you were envelope by a hug. You tense when his arms coils around your waist, hearing him breathe out of relief as he buries his face on your left shoulder. 

You don't know what to do everytime he does this. There were eyes everywhere and it doesn't seem like he is bothered by it.

Of course why would he?

Micah Clarke is not only popular and prettiest student in this campus. He is known for being famous as the youngest champion of ice skating 3 years ago, defending his title until now. His luscious natural lips, his hazel eyes that could make you halt on what you were doing, the type to make yourself give him a third glance because he is so pretty. So pretty that you sometimes envy his glassy skin, igniting a insecurities to yourself. His soft curly ginger hair and freckled face that matches his glossy alabaster complexion. The type of guy who prefers cute, pastel than those typical guys—omg so unique(lol)—that always choose to wear dark or dull colors. Everyone finds him attractive including yourself. Everything about him screams beauty and elegance. He can hook up with men and women if he wants to but he chose not to.

From what you heard, he is a rare S-rank Guide. Most espers would try hook up with him atleast make a contract with someone like him. He would rather spend his time painting his nails, crochetting, organising or planning his time, practicing his amazing skills on ice skating, or rather do hundred routine for his skincare than hook up with other people. Quirky, Alright. Still, this doesn't stop people from wanting to go between his pants and his fame.

To people he is a swan. He is epitome of perfection.

You always see him pass by to your department, always getting called by the principal,inviting him to do a photoshoot, using his face as an advertisment for upcoming enrollent or any event inside the university. You never dwell yourself to swoon on to him whenever he pass by. Fine, you do like him. But not the kind of like where you are romantically interest to him. You just admire his looks, his talents and that's about it. You just don't like he was too friendly, there's nothing wrong with that but invading someone else personal bubble space—and the feeling of shame on yourself for being near someone kind as him—as if you two are already close is not your thing to a person you rarely talk to. Unlike him, you are the quite the opposite when it comes to socialising,You like being alone, you aren't anti-social, atleast, that's what you think you are. You are confident by yourself. An Introvert.

You just like the silence. It eases your deteriorating mind—(stupid esper curse) Somewhere peace and quiet,reading books, listening to music—gosh laufey and wave to earth and even (favorite singer/composer) always sound so good, spending time with your pets, to drown out insanity voices piling up in your head. Although you just have a few friends, you love to be alone. You once dream about getting a job. To work hard and earn a good money, once you have enough money. You would spend it to buy a house and lot somewhere away from the city and nearby the countryside with a small farm. Letting your family and friends to visit you time to time in occassions. Where you can spend the rest of your life alone and happy. A dream that would be come true if only you didn't awakened as an esper after you reach 18.

As for the guy who has the entire school and other people folded for him. He is choosing you to lend his attention, to a person who doesn't like attention. So why was he talking to someone who is a nobody like a B-rank Esper like you? The only interaction you had with him before he let himself in your life was when you pull him away from the bridge—you didn't know him at that time—a few exchange greeting—which of course he would be the first one to initiate it—and.... The party....

"N-ngh!!!" A whiny moan escape his lips. Your lips were on his neck drinking each of his soft sound coming from his mouth. The blaring party background can be ignore in the background thanks to the closed lock door of this room the both of you are in.You bite and nip his skin as if animal marking its prey. You didn't care if you torn his shirt, you just needed his guide seep through more, letting your body gone addicted to him. "(Y-y/n)!" The whay he whimpered your name made you groaned. The way every pulse from his body sends his guiding through your body.  You were delirious, you can't resist him—

"Missed you! Why aren't you checking my messages? You know I got worried when you didn't reply." He whined, his orbs shows concern and sadness. You look away.

"...hey." you greeted him with quieter tone. You pulled away from the hug not liking the way your body just relaxes everytime his guide powers automatically seeps through your body. You don't hate it but you don't like the way that your body depends on someone just for the sake of being sane and relax.

.... The shame you are feeling over the past few weeks.

You still feel guilty and ashamed about it everytime you remember those memory.

"I... I was busy. Had to do homework. I fell asleep and forgot to charge my phone." You told him. Another excuse. You just put your phone on do not disturb.

You don't have the guts to tell a sweet person like him to leave you alone. Well you did because you are ashamed to face him but he insisted it was never you fault. It always ended up him spending time with you. You can't—you owe him more than anything—Especially now that all people's oggling to you too now that you have the attention of the star. They would try to befriending you so that they could get closer to him.

Gosh, you are getting tired. Why can't people leave you alone?

You missed the old times where you can be at peace. No drama, nowhere near on people who wants attention.

"O-oh. Well that's alright."he chided before grabbing your hands with both of his. His smooth hands rubbing against your ragged callouses. He continued, "well actually I was wondering could you hangout out with me? This friday? I know you don't have schedule at that time since you showed me your schedule—And I want to spend more time with you!" He beamed. His smile was out of this world and it blinds you.

"I uhh .. have a plan on that time..." You words went silent as soon as your eyes sees the smile from his lips slowly fell down to his face."really?" The grip on your hands were getting uncomfortable.

"Umm.... I just wanna be on my home and well—"He gasped, his smile is coming back on his symmetrical face as he clung to your right arm."oh! Why didn't you say so? We can hangout together in your home!"

Giddy, he press his front closer to you which made you feel suffocating. His guide power automatically seeps through you again.

"N-no, Mikah... What I meant to say is I plan to rest, like spend alone on that day. A peace and quiet." You slowly pull away your hand gently from his clinging hands.

You didn't expect he would react like this. Tears are already in the corner of his eyes. His lips quivering. "W-what? Are you saying that I'm boring, I-I'm too loud? Did I do something wrong?"

The people who were eavesdropping at your conversation sent a glare and unwanted resentment towards you. 

You quickly shook your head. Your free hand clasping against his clutching ones that is gripping your poor unavailable hand. "No... It's not like that. You didn't do anything wrong.. I just want a me time... You know when... Uhhh before you and I become friends.... I just want to relax by myself.... You're a good friend and a good company but... We've been hanging out for a while... Ummm w-what I'm trying to say is... I want some time to be alone. You... You know what I mean right?"

Micah gave you a blank stare. You were getting uneasy. You bite your inner cheek. Will he lash out? He never seem to be the person who never received a refusal on his entire life. As soon as 2 seconds has passed, you noticed his eyes were akin to sadness. You feel the guilt running up to your spine.

You tried to avoid his gaze looking straight his frowning lips before getting replace by a forced grin. "Oh! I get that! You wish a time for yourself! Self care stuff in all that!" 

Your heart beats a little faster in excitement, is he finally leaving you for a bit? You were about to thank him for understanding. He does l—

"B-but!!" He grabbed your hands again.

You internally groan. Does he even know the word no? Of course he don't.

He never had someone says no to him. Everything he request would be at his feet. You can't yell or be rude. That's not in your nature and plus if you done it. His fans would kill you.

"I need to be with you o-on friday! You know... I wanna spend my birthday with you.. P-please? your presence alone is enough a gift for me." He stammers. You blink in surprise. "I-I promise I won't bother you the next day if you really wanna spend t-time for yourself..."

Birthday?

"T-to be honest.... I don't like parties uhmm..." He lick his lips as if the word 'party' is a taboo between the two of you." Especially my birthday parties because a-although people greet me a happy birthday or any party occasion and stuff they never really mean it. They... Always use that as an excuse to use me for my fame or my money that I earned so hard in those competitions... I.. I plan to not throw one b-because m-my family isn't forcing me anymore... I just want to spend my birthday w-with you. Y-you're the only d-decent person who treated me normally."he stammer.  You feel a lump on your throat when he says you're a decent. "I... I know... Umm I'm asking to much f-from you and I know... you didn't mean to do that—" he continues to rambles that some of his words can't form a right sentence. You noticed his eyes were in the verge of tears, threatening to drop from his eyes. 

"I'm.... Not a decent person." You told him looking away from him, ashamed and hurt were written in your face.Your voice grew quiet but the man Infront catch on what you said, already refering to the 'incident' between the two of you. He bit his lower lips and almost yelled. His face pull out a sad look. It made him look cute if it's from a tears of joy."Y-you are ! You are a decent person! You know it's not your f-fault! You were d-drugged a-and I... I was drunk! W-we both know we weren't in o-our right minds! You never hurted me—!" He starts hiccuping. "You're a-a good person! W-what happened between that night s-should b-be buried! Y-you're a good friend! It's not your fault! It's not your f-fault!" With that he burst into tears.

You didn't expect for him to cry. You panic mentally. What should you do on these type of situations? You pull him for a hug—albeit stiffeningly."Ok... Ok... Don't cry.... I don't like it... When you cry.. I'm sorry." You told him honestly, truthfully this is not the first time he argued about the incident with you.

You still feel ashamed of yourself. You really do. 

The party. If only you didn't come to your friend's party. The guilt won't eat you. No matter how many times Micah convinced you that none of it was your fault. You feel like you can't face him. He did say he was also drunk at the time but still... You could have gotten home earlier and didn't force yourself on him.

You cried and apologised so many times from him at that time, swearing you will turn yourself over to the police and never let him see your face again. You saw how his whole body was full of marks, hickeys, and bruises. He look like he got ravage. His clothes were thorn and you wish the drug in your system that time killed you.

Micah's eyes light up and a smirk forming from his lips as he nuzzle his face on your neck, pretending to cry even more. Everything is planned, everything worked for him to get you under his palm. He can feel the guilt eating you. 

"... it's okay... Hik... " He sob sneaking in to kiss your neck. You are to busy awkwardly and hesitantly patting his back and hugging him and the man love every second of it.

From the moment you save him from jumping off the bridge, he needed to make you his. Someone who genuinely cares for him from this greedy world is something he needed to treasure.

Oh how he had you wrap around his fingers the moment you accepted that drug-disguise juice from one of his friends offered by the man himself. It's your fault.

It doesn't matter. You're under his palm forever. Everything is 100% perfect.

[nebulaafterdark]

Blood & Cheese (Pt. 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After the events of Blood and Cheese, Rhaenyra’s daughter returns to King’s Landing in hopes of speaking to her childhood companion.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader x Helaena Targaryen

18+ ONLY, MDNI Targcest, threesome, mentions of death, trauma and childbirth

“This is a farce.” The man scoffs at his wife’s demand.

“Daemon.”

“Y/N has been gone for some five fucking years and now she calls upon me to help her usurping cunt of a husband?” Daemon is fuming, taking the hallway in long strides.

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra tries a second time.

“Let Aegon handle his own brother, how about that?”

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra reaches for him. “Take offense with her as you might, Y/N is my daughter. Our child the same as Baela and Rhaena are to me; and she needs you. She asked only for you.”

Daemon’s upper lip twitches, “what I do now, I do for our girl and our boy.” Y/N and Lucerys. “Not for Aegon or Alicent, least of all for Otto Fucking Hightower.”

Rhaenyra nods toying with her rings, anxiously.

“I will make this right for you.” A son for a son.

————————————————————————

It has been too long…from the time Y/N fled and Aegon followed. It has been too long since Aemond chased after Sunfyre on Vhagar. Too long since Y/N promised to meet Jaehaera for tea. It has been too long.

Helaena knows what she must do, barricade herself in the children’s room and stand watch over them. Taking up the only weapon she has, holding the fire poker toward the rumbling door.

“Helaena!”

It has been too long.

“Helaena.”

The chamber doors open, revealing the intruders. Y/N, in her bloodied riding gear, face smattered with dirt and the ash of dragon fire.

Alicent and Rhaenyra trail closely behind her, but Y/N pays them no mind.

“You’re safe,” Y/N assures Helaena. Unfazed by the metal rod in the other woman’s grasp, gently moving it aside to embrace her. Cupping Helaena’s worried face in hand. “I fixed it, we fixed it for you.”

“What?” Helaena searches her eyes.

“Aemond is gone. Aegon is burned, but his injuries are minimal. The maesters are treating him now. I was able to create new terms with my mother. Our children will be safe. You will be safe.”

Helaena forces herself to nod.

“No one will hurt you so long as I live, I swear it.”

Helaena surprises them both when she presses their lips together. Overcome with gratitude, and relief and the love she has only ever known for Y/N.

Rhaenyra is more concerned with the children clinging to their skirts than their display of affection. How many of them belong to her daughter?

“Grandmother?” The silver haired boy moves toward Alicent, timidly. “Who is she?”

“Come, Laenor.” Alicent waves him over, “bring your sisters and brother.”

“Laenor?” Rhaenyra turns to her daughter.

“Wait, Alicent.” Y/N holds up a hand. “I wish to introduce the children to my mother.”

Alicent swallows, “Jaehaera.”

“My daughter stays.” Y/N insists, “might you accompany Helaena to our husband?”

“I will stay with you.” Helaena insists.

Y/N sighs, passing a hand over her wife’s hair. “Mother, this is my family. Of course you know Helaena, and our eldest daughter, Jaehaera. These are my daughters Laeya, Dahlia and Visera. And my sons, Laenor and Aegon.”

“You have accomplished a great deal in our time apart.” Rhaenyra speaks, “I wish I could have been there for you.”

“As do I, mother.” Y/N admits.

From now on, she will be.

————————————————————————

Aegon’s wounds are quick to heal, he is mended long before Helaena begins her labors.

“I do not have a name yet.” Helaena admits.

“Well, we mustn’t delay my dearest love. This babe is coming, named or not.” Aegon says, kindly. Passing a hand over her belly.

Helaena labors in near silence, her mind floating far from her body, only the occasional sound of discomfort. Y/N tends her, whispering words of encouragement, stroking her hair. Aegon paces at the foot of her bed.

“Give us a big push whenever you’re ready, my heart.” Y/N says.

“I can’t.” Helaena croaks out.

“Of course you can.” Aegon helps position her legs. After attending the births of his children with Y/N, he is rather familiar with the process.

“I’m not ready.” Helaena shakes her head.

Y/N hushes her, “our babe is ready to meet you, my darling.”

“They only want the boy.” Helaena sobs, clutching her belly, desperate to keep the child inside, where he is safe.

“Helaena,” Aegon sighs, “no harm will come to our son. I promise you this, on the memory of Jaehaerys.”

“No,” Helaena protests, “please, no.”

“Do you want your mother?” Y/N continues attempting to gentle her.

“I want you,” Helaena looks to her, with tear filled eyes. “I only want you.”

Y/N passes a hand over her silver hair. “I’m here.”

Helaena nods.

Aegon can see the babe’s head, the stubborn child has no intention of waiting.

“Nothing is going to happen to him,” Y/N murmurs. “He will sleep in a cot at the foot of our bed, if it pleases you. He will remain with us morning and night. He will be guarded by my mother’s finest knights. Our child will be safe.”

Helaena can fight the urge to push no longer, bringing their child into the world a moment later.

The babe wails as Aegon swaddles him.

“Hush now, dearest.” He coos, bringing his son up to greet Helaena.

She takes the child into her arms, eyes wide and haunted.

Y/N looks to Aegon with a sad smile. “He looks like you.” Just like Laenor and Jaehaerys before him.

“I’m afraid so.”

Taglist : @barnes70stark

[empressgetou]

A GIFT

husband poseidon x wife goddess reader

posiedon may be called as the most fearsome god or the god of gods or the tyrant of the sea, but all these titles meant nothing when it comes to his wife. y/n would call it as a facade considering that his attitude is the complete opposite of what the gods known him for.

the king of the seas had met his better half way back when he was still a boy. whenever he would visit the library of valhalla he somehow catches her just around the corner reading quietly all alone.

days turned into weeks that turned into months of visiting the library, he never misses her innocent figure by that very corner who seems to be on her own world. then one particular day, she finally approach him making his heart skip a beat by her voice.

"excuse me, lord posiedon. i don't want to interrupt you but i wanted to borrow the book you have got there since i wanted to finish the novel i am currently reading." she asked politely. little did she know, posiedon has taken interest of what the girl has been reading these past few days and have read in advance to finish the book first.

her voice it sounds alluring, as if the sirens were to hypnotize the humans in the ocean. he thought.

he nodded in response and gave the book. well he already finished the novel might as well let her borrow it.

"it is quite a surprise that my lord has taken interest in these types novels?" she then closely leaned into his side.

"would you mind if i seat here beside you? i'd like to know what your thoughts on this right after i read."

"no, but are you comfortable being with me?"

"hmm? why shouldn't i, my lord? as long as you're not feeding me to your piranhas back at atlantis then i dont mind." she innocently giggled as if there were no rumours of the young prince going around. not that she knows about those, the young goddess is too busy to gossip with the other young ones her age.

and with that interaction started their romance. with millions and millions of years have gone by and the gods have been happily married to each other, they are also known to be one of the most powerful couple in valhalla. with the two of them working together nothing seems to stop them. y/n being the goddess of healing and peace and poseidon being the god of the seas and waters sounded terrifying for the humans even for the gods. and with y/n's every step bringing happiness along the way there will always be poseidon following closely to him who keeps other gods or humans especially intimidated which results to y/n scolding him back at their place.

and just like any other day in the kingdom of atlantis, y/n all by herself in their very own library reading peacefully was cut off when a knock was heard.

"i'm home." said by a gentle voice.

"you're back home early, my beloved. did something happened?", y/n replied as she rose from her seat and greeted his husband with a light kiss.

"that half human happened. the gods have agreed to that filthy woman to have a fight between humanity and us gods, a ragnarok." he said full of frustration in his face.

she guided him to seat and ease his anger.

"i'm sure brunhilde has her reasons as to why she had done this, after all she is still a part of their kind."

"what made you upset?"

"i do not wish to participate in their foolish games. i am a god that is nowhere near a humans ability to reach and they dare try and compete with me? that is unacceptable!"

"you could withdraw from it if you don't wish to join them"

"the pantheon has already decided. no matter. i shall win of course those humans will not be in my way."

currently, zeus and adam fighting in the arena with a time of 5 minutes now. y/n seated beside his husband watching from the booth with hermes and other gods. they were informed beforehand that poseidon were to battle after his brother. y/n was anxious, not because of the fight she knew his husband was capable of defeating them, it was actually her secret that she may have been keeping from his husband a little while now. he looked at her and this made poseidon think that his wife was worried about him.

with now adam defeated by zeus, poseidon stood up and y/n following him by the back door.

"i'll be back this won't take long, my love." he said while cupping her face and his voice with no trace of arrogance but rather a soft one.

"i'll cheer you on, husband. and when you are done, there is something i'd like to tell you." this made poseidon curious.

is this why she had been spacing out lately? he thought.

she then kissed him good luck and said her i love you's.

during the battle y/n remained uneasy, kojiro sasaki is indeed a good swordsman with his skills and speed no doubt that he would've defeated a god. but not this god, posiedon managed to be much quicker to attack than sasaki's. and with that it ends as the god of the seas declared winner of the match. making it a score of 3 and the humans 0.

y/n stood up and rushed down into the doors going to the arena meeting his husband on the dimmed alley. posiedon caught by surprise his wife rushing towards him with open arms.

"i was worried about you! i glad it is over now!" she hugged him tight as if the world depends on it.

"i told you i would be back, though it did took me a while to finish." he could hear her quiet sniffles and decided to just walk off to the infirmary still holding her like a baby supporting her back with his right hand and her bottom with his other hand.

as soon as they were inside the room, he seated her beside him while the aids have come to heal the injured god.

"leave us, my wife shall take care of this." declared the god and were left to be alone with his spouse.

y/n did not hesitate and began her healing magic while doing so she could not help whether it is the perfect time to tell his husband of what she have been keeping these days. poseidon knowing his wife like the back of his hand can feel her uneasiness and decided to ask.

"there is something you wanna tell me." that made y/n taken aback a bit. no doubt that his husband would notice much sooner. she is not the type that keeps secrets after all, the goddess is more of an open book to poseidon.

"remember, i have something i'd like to tell you after you have finished your fight?" he nodded urging her to continue.

"i only found out recently and had been trying my best to keeping it for myself." she giggled.

"hera has spoke to me the other day when we were at the pantheon. she told me that eileithyia has informed her that i am with... a child." that made poseidon's world stop.

a child? he thought. they both have been trying for an offspring quiet some time now. he would always watch merfolks back at antlantis with their young ones. with their cute little fins and soft features and loud laughter's, no wonder the king of the seas would want one his own.

he pulled her towards him and hugged her tight depending his massive size into her delicate body. he would've bursted into tears if it weren't for her chuckle.

"i'm guessing you are happy with the news i brought, my love?"

"happy? no, no not just happy, dear. i am thrilled that we are finally able to have a child on our own." he looked deep into her eyes and kissed her passionately.

"thank you. this is the most precious gift that you have given me." he continued while still holding her close to his chest.

"we have been trying my husband, i'm glad that the goddess of labour has bestowed us such gift."

"although you are still horrible at keeping such secrets, i keep noticing you fidgeting from time to time." he smirked making y/n lightly smacking his chest.

"i love you, my dearest. and our child as well." he said with with full adoration while trying to hold his nonexistent baby bump.

"i love you much more, my husband."

masterlist

"now, let's fix that hair of yours hmm? it does not look too good after that swordman cut if off unequally." she laughed when she noticed it, that's because his hair can and only be touched by his wife and no other beings. that is when poseidon realized his hatred with humanity once more.

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Interlude: Six Becomes Five

Prev | Next

The gentle crackle of the fire, admist the soft crickets chirping, was all the noise coming from the camp. Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, Wizard Cookie, and Carameleon Cookie were all sleeping soundly, light snores coming from them.

Nearby, you rested with White Lily Cookie nearby, soft breath coming from your mouth.

Pure Vanilla Cookie sat in front of the fire, staring at it with an unreadable expression in his face. Wind gently blowed and rustled his hair for a moment, not held down by his hat. That and his staff rested on the tree near you.

Pure Vanilla Cookie didn't know what to think now that things had truly settled down.

He still felt.. lied to, in a sense. Not by you, or White Lily Cookie, but by Shadow Milk Cookie. The taunts and lies of the Cookie still swirled in his mind like toxic waste, gripping at him and drowning him.

That.. and he couldn't get your look out of his mind. The expression on your face when Shadow Milk Cookie had slammed you against a wall. The look of horror, shock, and terror before you fell unconscious.

It made him feel sick. The healing spells he desperately tried to cast before Shadow Milk Cookie chased them off still made him feel lightheaded.

He looked at his trembling hands. He exhaled shakily, clenching them.

Are you awake still?

He jolted at the sound of the Light of Compassion. "Ah!" He then exhaled to calm himself and his trembling. "C-Compassion. You surprised me."

Don't try and lie. I'm a part of you currently, Pure Vanilla Cookie.

Pure Vanilla Cookie paused before he pulled his knees to his chest. "I can't get their face out of my mind." He swallowed thickly. "How they looked when they slammed into that wall, I.." His hands came up to run through his hair. "I thought Shadow Milk Cookie had crumbled them."

Primordials are far harder to kill than your mind allows you to realize.

Pure Vanilla Cookie gave a small nod, but he was still trembling. He was too far in his own thoughts to even notice the footsteps coming from behind him. He only noticed when the figure sat beside him - it was you.

"You're awake still?" You asked, frowning. "Did something happen?"

Pure Vanilla Cookie chuckled softly. "If something did happen, you would be the first to realize, my friend."

"Friend," you repeated. "Friend, friend, friend." Pure Vanilla Cookie blinked, confused as he watched you repeat those words. "Are we really still friends?"

His cheeks turned a shade darker. "What do you mean..?"

"I mean, I shared the Light of Compassion with you, I saved your life, you saved mine, and just.." You looked at him, frowning softly. "Does that.. seem like something just friends would do?"

Pure Vanilla Cookie glanced away, resting his hand over his mouth. He chuckled softly. "Hm.. to some, maybe." He then smiled at you. "But I'm guessing that you want to be something more?"

You grinned. "How'd you guess?"

He hummed, opening his eyes to look at you. "Just a hunch, it seems."

With a soft laugh, you gently grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. Then you looked up at him, then his mouth. "May I?"

His blush darkened. "Of course."

You moved forward and kissed him, the both of you closing your eyes. Pure Vanilla Cookie felt his body relax, resting his hands on your shoulders. After a few more moments, you both broke apart, small breaths escaping the both of you.

You kissed his head. "I love you, Pure Vanilla Cookie."

He smiled. "I love you too, Sparkling Joy Cookie."

taglist: @snail-noodle @average-crk-enjoyer @looking4userthatworks @ori-stole-the-cheese-again @sqiddgie @justalittledumb @ax0lotly @ihatemyselffromthestart-blog @ravenkake @ohnoivefallen @craixe @xxcrispxx @hrtsy2 @imaginarydreams

[anika-ann]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe thot about: CE!babe + forehead kiss ☺️

GASP!!! I was blessed by the visit of the hoe fairy herself 😍😍 Thank you 😭 As I can see, the Shameless One knows me well 🤭

Apparently, I am a hoe for fluff. Who knew? 🤭Everyone who knows me

The Constellation of You and I

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 1,7k Warnings: soft NSFW, 18+, smut-adjacent really, FLUFF, brief mention of Steve's job as Cap... and barely proof-read but with stars metaphors to make up for it A/N: Divider by @firefly-graphics

You could feel it surging though your nerves; light echoes of tingles of bliss still humming within, with every frantic beat of your heart, from your midriff to your fingertips, your hands feeling too warm as they remained laid over the bulge of Steve’s shoulder, over the slight curve of his lower back.

For every breath of his you gave two of yours, the bundle of your bodies, rising and falling slightly as your ribcage expanded against his hot skin, the firmness of his body and the welcoming softness of his touch like a touch of heaven itself.

He held you close as you sat in his lap, gently; arm wrapped around you to keep you flush against him as you still remained one, his other hand tenderly tangled in your damp hair as you rested your cheek against his shoulder, your quick breaths fanning his throat; his cheek in turn rested carefully on top of your head, occasionally shifting so he could press his lips to the crown of your head.

The afterglow was almost as blissful as reaching your peak had been.

However, the afterglow was slowly fading as reality and embarrassment was setting in, your face burning not only from the cardio you had engaged in, but because of the pouncing you had done not two seconds after Steve had walked through the door, fresh out of a mission.

Fresh out of two week apart for the first time you had started dating over three months ago.

That was what young love did, you supposed; it blinded rational thought and erased all plans for the meal you had prepared and the blankets on the couch you had set there so you could ease Steve back into the reality of a simple life rather than a damn near battlefield where any moment of distraction could mean catching a bullet or worse.

You had missed him like crazy – of course you had. He had texted you whenever he could, a short message at least to let you know he was well and wishing you to be well also, occasionally telling you he missed you. With his mind laser-focused on his mission and the team he felt responsible for, understandably so, you expected nothing more, grateful for the scraps, even as written in half-hearted hurry.

Then, he had let you know he was coming home, with everyone safe and sound, tired but nearly unscathed, himself having but bruises already halfway healed. You had planned a quiet evening to reconnect with him, ecstatic at the premise alone of seeing him, trying to tame your less-than-decent needs with the sensation of genuine relief at him being alright and coming home, claiming to be happy to spend an evening with you if you’d like. A nice, grounding evening full of comfort.

And then this goddamn man appeared at your doorstep with a sheepish smile and a spark in his eye upon seeing you, a bouquet of pink roses and you had to physically hold back for long enough to put the gorgeous gift of his into water at least. And as soon as you managed that, your lady brain cut in and took full control, practically assaulting him and the lovely blue shirt he was wearing.

Steve certainly didn’t protest and participated rather enthusiastically as you kissed him breathless and walked him – pushed him almost – to your bedroom, discarding his and your clothes, hands wandering, gentle and needy and wicked, his red red red kiss-swollen lips parted so beautifully as you bounced on top of him until you both saw stars behind closed eyelids and reached for them eagerly with your fingertips, the sweet taste of stardust exploding on your tongue and consuming you with its light; but now, as the afterglow flickered away, bitter shame and sour vulnerability creeped in and began to swallow you into a black hole instead.

Yes, Steve was alright.

Yes, he was happy to see you.

Yes, he was all in, praise falling from his lips, whispers of how he had missed you too, how he needed you.

But dammit. You felt like the most socially inept and least empathetic person in the world, awkward in her impromptu display of desire.

And Steve, brilliant, beautiful Steve, must have caught on by now, because one of his warm palms sprawled on your cheek, tenderly leading you to lift your head and meet his gaze. And for all your messy feelings, you could not resist but do so.

You could never resist. Not to Steve.

“Where’s that beautiful mind of yours, sweetheart? Are you alright?” he whispered, eyes roaming your face, the spark, that damn spark that could set the world ablaze and heal it all at once, being a sweet tell of his. A tell of how he was happy to have you in his arms, all around him, despite your… enjoyable shortcomings.

“Why, right here with you.”

You awkwardly tried to mirror his smile even as your face still burned, succeeding somewhat – you must have. Because Steve’s lips curled up further, fingertips caressing your brow, following the line of your cheekbone, your jaw.

You melted against his body despite yourself, warmth humming in your veins as his gaze followed his touch, as if he was committing your features to memory.

“Good,” he said, leaning to kiss your forehead. “I missed you being with me. So close, in my arms. So sweet and w-“

“I’m sorry I pounced at you like that!“ you blurted out, cursing your tongue which always seemed so loose around him as soon as the words were out.

Steve’s fingers froze in their tender exploration, his lips remaining not further than an inch from your hairline, his body turning rigid and you could smack yourself.

“I mean… I just—I made calmer plans and I know it must have been hard out there and I… I didn’t want you to feel like--- I missed all of you, you know? I didn’t want to make you feel like… I don’t know, I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

Steve was yet to move, even his ribcage still, not even drawing in a breath. Your heart thundered against your sternum, in your temples, all over you, consuming you with the heat of embarrassment, a whimper-like plea for the ground to swallow you forming in your throat. You did not dare to move either, your hands having curled into fists against his shoulder and back.

And then he chuckled.

Steven Grant Rogers, the loveable jerk, chuckled and kissed your hairline again, making you actually whine.

“Nooooo-“

“Sweetheart, are you embarrassed for wanting me?”

Your denial of the statement – a blatant lie, but not really – died on your tongue as he moved to cradle your cheek again, meeting your gaze, the previous spark lit aflame with new life as he observed you with a smile that made you squirm on his lap and lit your face hotter than a supernova.

“I-“

“I’m not. And I want you, always. You drive me crazy in the most wonderful ways,” he said, his smile only widening as you lowered you gaze and worried your teeth over your lower lip, the soft admission brining a smidge of relief and confidence.

“I mean… I’m not ashamed. Not of that...” you whispered, taking a deep breath and gathering courage to look him in the eye again, met with a gaze so tenderly inquiring you felt yourself relax just a bit, trying to scramble for coherent thought. “I just feel like just because I missed you it doesn’t give me the right to jump you without a chance to… to allow you to return to the right headspace for something like that. I was here. Safe, in my little apartment and life I built, meeting friends and colleagues and… simply being. You, on the other hand…”

You trailed off, your voice catching in your throat as you caught into the emotion written all over Steve’s face.

The sheer wonder – and dare to say love – shining in his irises almost chased tears into your eyes; stealing air from your chest and replacing it with glowing warmth of the Milky Way on the clear skies in the countryside upstate.

You were still but the air shifted; neither of you moved but the whole planetary system seemed to tilt off its axis, a new star born to became the centre of the universe right between you, in Steve’s featherlight touch and the hoarseness of his voice.

“That’s—I’m not--- You’re incredible. I… really appreciate the thought,” he whispered, the soft edge of his smile like a caress to your soul. “But despite everything, I need you to know I meant what I wrote. I thought of you and missed you, every day-“

“Steve, you don’t have to--- I know that when you are on a mission it’s hundred percent and you have a huge responsibility and there’s no space for-“

Two fingers slid under your chin, carefully but effectively stopping your slightly self-deprecating but entirely true words from flowing; Steve’s eyes, suddenly incredibly serious, bore into yours.

“Every. Day. Do you believe me, love?”

A shudder rushed through your body, a shaky inhale expanding like a nebula inside your lungs, the single word, endearment and declaration in one, causing your heart to tremble with affection. You read no doubt but a speckle of distress in Steve’s widened pupils, making it seem as if he had left slipped something he might be sure of, but did not mean to reveal; and it made your own love for him grow tenfold, your eyes turning a little glassy.

You willed your lips to curl up in a smile, hands coming up to cradle his face, erasing the slightest flicker of panic in his features.

You kissed him on the lips, lightly, but with taste of a new emotion born out of his confession; a confession on your own.

“I do, love. I do.”

He kissed you back with a tender grin and this time, when hands began to roam and he laid you on the bed, they roamed in sync; they explored the galaxies and eternity written on your skin and his, your lips rewriting the stars so they would align to pave the journey you’d set on together.

You kissed him without shame and he reciprocated, every touch and every gaze a promise:

I’ll miss you, whenever I’ll go.

I’ll think of you, wherever I’ll be.

I’ll love you, whatever you and I are meant to be.

My Steve fics // All my fics

Thank you so much, Siri, for blessing me 🥺

No, I don't exist on sharing only thots when sent an ask, I WRITE 😂

Thank you, lovlies, for reading and potential feedback/reblogs and such 💕

Have yourself a lovely day/night ✨

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-” 

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

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

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

[eclipixels]

Homesick

Rafayel x Reader

Content: For some reason, you can't help but feel connected to Rafayel's paintings of Lemuria

A/N: I wonder if anyone can figure out which quote from my favorite book series I referenced.

[1,026 words]

      "You seem oddly fascinated by all my paintings of the deep blue," Rafayel remarked, his voice carrying from the kitchen as he prepared two cups of coffee. The early sunlight streamed in through the windows of his studio-turned-home, casting a warm glow over everything. The view of the vast ocean beyond the windows made the space feel even more intimate, like the world outside was folded into the room.

      You stood before his collection of ocean paintings, your gaze lingering on the turbulent seascapes. Rafayel had just finished explaining a place called Lemuria, though your mind felt strangely detached from the details.

      "Yeah, it just… looks so familiar," you mumbled, tracing the dark brushstrokes of one of the stormier pieces. Rafayel’s ears perked up at your words.

      "Really? Tell me more."

      You hesitated, the strange pull in your chest growing stronger. "I don’t know. It's like I feel homesick when I look at it. Not that it's my home, but like it’s a place that’s always been a part of me, even though I’ve never been there. Something about it feels like it's taken a part of me, but I don’t know what that part is." You exhaled slowly, your fingers lingering over the canvas. "It’s like this place isn’t mine, but it holds something of mine forever. And for some reason, I feel so angry about it."

      Rafayel’s voice softened as he took in your words. "That’s interesting."

      “Really? How come.” You ask.

      “Because I was thinking of Lemuria when I painted those,” He confessed.

      "Do you miss it?" you inquired, though the moment the words left your mouth, you immediately realized how obvious the answer would be. Of course, he missed it. It was a silly question, but you couldn’t help it.

      He paused for a moment, lost in thought. He had shared a few fragments of it before, describing the place he once called home and his identity as a Lemurian.

      He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on something beyond the kitchen, a small, wistful smile forming on his lips. You watched him carefully, wondering what was going through his mind in that quiet moment.

      He approached you with two cups in hand, offering one to you before both of you settled near the large glass window. You gazed out at the sparkling sea, the peaceful view stretching endlessly before you. He leaned back, his palms resting on the floor behind him, eyes fixed on you. His gaze was soft and intense as he took you in, just as you were taking in the painting just a few minutes ago. It stung a little whenever he looked at you. A part of him was in you, lodged in a place so deeply familiar to him, a piece of his heart quietly nestled within you. And you didn’t even know it.

      "It's funny," you began, your voice soft, as if revealing a secret you'd been holding onto for a long time. But something in you felt different now, like this was the right moment to finally say it. You felt safe enough, as though he wouldn't laugh at you or call you crazy.

      "Hm?" Rafayel responded, his attention fully on you.

      You took a deep breath, gathering the words that had been lodged in your chest for so long. "It's like… I feel like I’m losing my mind. Like your face has been carved into my heart, and I don’t remember when or why, but the scar is there, and I can’t make it go away. It won’t heal. I can’t get it to fade." You let out a small, nervous laugh, almost expecting him to think you were being ridiculous too. But instead, you were met with a heavy silence.

      When you turned your head at him, the air in the room shifted. Something had fallen to the ground, and the sound was sharp, unexpected. Delicate white beads scattered across the floor, catching the light. That’s when you saw it. The unmistakable glistening in the corner of his eyes—pearls, slowly calcifying as hot tears began to spill over.

      "What's wrong?" you asked, the question barely above a whisper. Your heart twisted in your chest, unsure how to process the raw emotion that seemed to suddenly flood him.

      His eyes were fixed on you now, he didn’t speak immediately, as though weighing the weight of your confession. The steady hum of the sea outside seemed to fade into the background as everything in the room focused on the space between you.

      He didn’t look away. His eyes softened, and you noticed the way his jaw tightened, a sign of restraint—or maybe he was simply processing the vulnerability that had just unfolded in front of him.

      “I've always felt homesick for the longest time.” Rafayel's voice cracked as he spoke, each word heavy with an unspoken weight. He reached his palm out towards your face, gently caressing it before his fingers fell to your chin. “Since you, I haven’t felt that."

      His eyes lingered, not in pity or concern, but with an almost unbearable intensity, as if he was struggling to find the right words. There was an undercurrent to his silence.

      It was almost as if he was afraid that if he spoke, if he let too much slip, it would all crumble—like a fragile house of cards teetering on the edge of collapse. The way he clenched his jaw, the way his fingers twitched nervously at his sides, it all suggested a tension far deeper than the moment you shared. Something inside him was holding back.

      His gaze softened for just a moment, as if he was considering something. But then, with a quiet sigh, he looked away, his eyes dropping to the scattered pearls at his feet. The shift was subtle, but it was there, like a door closing before you could step through it.

      the edge of something deep like a kelp bed. Grief and heartbreak colored his face, but so did love and hope. It was bittersweet. You wondered if he knew something you didn’t. A truth he was keeping locked away behind those sunset eyes, too painful or too dangerous to reveal.