#stop changing so much and just stay still!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

copperhawks · 2 days ago

Text

You're not the first person to make this comparison on this post, but when I wrote this, I hadn't done a re-read of SOTL yet (and the last time I'd read In the Hand of the Goddess was... a LONG time ago, so I couldn't really make a good comparison between these two scenes), but I have now and I've been sort-of thinking this over and have some thoughts on it.

For me, this isn't so much an indication of them being similar so much as it is just an unusually similar narrative beat. A character chooses to disobey an order about not crossing a border during a war in order to go save someone who has been captured and, in so doing, takes out a major antagonist that leads to the end of the war.

But the MOTIVES behind the two actions seem very different to me. Jon goes to save Alanna because he's in love with her and can't bear to lose her. Kel goes to save the refugees because she's responsible for them and takes that extremely seriously. She does CARE about the people, obviously, it's still being done out of love, but she's not doing it because she can't stand to live without them so much as that she's INSANELY duty-driven. She goes up to save Lalasa for similar reasons after being told that a noble's duty to their servants is basically sacrosanct. Kel goes across the border because she believes it's the honorable thing to do. Jon's motives aren't about honor and are, arguably, somewhat more selfish in origin.

So while this is obviously a very similar storyline, I don't find that it's an example of these two characters being similar to each other.

Kel is willing to give up EVERYTHING out of a sense of duty to the people she's responsible for. While Jon is someone who does a LOT of things for his people and spends a lot of his time and energy making life better for them, I can't recall a moment where Jon is ready to give up everything he wants and everything he's worked for just to save his people. Jon actually tells Kel in Squire that he and Thayet work pretty hard to keep themselves OUT of that kind of danger whenever possible, that's the point behind all of the compromises. All of the arranged marriages for his kids are to try to ensure peace through political connections and stop fighting in wars.

This is where they DO differ because Kel feels like someone who, at least at this point in her life, is willing to die to protect her people. But Jon is someone who will do whatever it takes to LIVE for his people for as long as possible. Jon understands that, in his position, it's more beneficial for everybody for him to make compromises in order to stay alive so he can keep making changes that will make people's lives better in the long run. This is a lesson that, while we do see Kel LEARNING it a little during Lady Knight, isn't one that really plays into the final conflict of the book. It's possible that Kel will end up being even more like Jon in this way as she gets older, more willing to stay back herself and trust others to do what needs to be done in her place, but by the end of Lady Knight, that just isn't who she is yet.

And maybe that's what's interesting about the comparison. Kel isn't all that much like Jon YET, and she's certainly not all that much like Jon when HE was 19, but Kel shows signs of being a lot more like Jon as he is during HER series as she gets older and gains more experience. Kel is very righteous, very inclined to just act and get things done, but over the 9 years we get to know her, she has to learn more and more about when to act and when to WAIT. She has to learn when to push and when to bend a little.

As a woman, she's going to be held to different standards than her male counterparts like Raoul or Wyldon, she'll be dealing with different limitations and setbacks than they ever did. And so her approach to leadership will, by necessity, have to be different than theirs was. She does look to them for inspiration, but in execution, I think she'll likely end up far more like Jon. Jon is obviously not a woman himself, but as King he's ALSO held to different higher standards than his compatriots and he was very young when he took the throne and has been very progressive throughout his reign which means he's dealing with certain limitations and setbacks that more conservative people might not.

Kel has strong opinions and firm ideas of what the world SHOULD be like, and that's going to lead her down a similar path of trying to CHANGE things, but she'll be dealing with all of the same limitations that Jon is, which will force her to approach things the way he does. She's going to have to compromise, she's going to have to bend, she's going to have to learn when a fight is worth having, she's going to have to learn to give a little in order to get a little later.

Kel would probably not have crossed the border for just one person. If it had been Neal, for example, and Neal alone, she may not have decided to take that risk. Neal is a trained knight like herself and probably won't thank her for giving up everything to come save him. Kel could probably have been convinced not to cross the border for him, as much as it would've pained her. And Jon I think would not necessarily give up everything to save a few hundred people the way Kel did, even though it would pain him to have to make that choice.

Kel IS like Jon and will likely become even more so as she ages, but crossing the border just isn't one of those places where their similarities are showcased to me.

The funniest thing to me about Kel, and maybe one of the most interesting because of how understated it is, is that Kel becomes a good commander in the end, not by emulating Wyldon who was cold and implacable and insensitive, or by emulating Raoul who mostly only disobeys orders out of principle or because he has an issue with what the order says about his personal relationship with Jon, but by emulating JON.

Kel doesn't even LIKE Jon, she BARELY respects him as a person. He's a good enough ruler that she's willing to fight for him and swear loyalty to him and to at least mostly believe that he wouldn't work with Blayce to make his own killing monsters, but that's as far as it goes for Kel. If he's kind to her, she finds it uncomfortable and almost untrustworthy because she assumes he doesn't care about her and so his kindness and respect towards her must be fake.

But from the outside, as readers, we know just how much Jon fought for Kel. We know how much he does respect her right to be a knight. Jon is the sole reason that Kel DID get the opportunity to prove herself, if he'd capitulated to Wyldon completely, she just wouldn't have ever been allowed to join. Kel doesn't KNOW THAT, obviously, but we do. We know that Jon did everything he could to find a way to convince Wyldon to let Kel become a page. While Wyldon claims later that the reason he chose to let her stay at the end of the probation year was because his better judgment convinced him she'd earned it, I'd be willing to bet that part of that better judgment also included knowing if he couldn't prove to JON that she needed to go, then he'd be in trouble. Kel was training and working in front of plenty of other trainers and teachers who could easily contradict Wyldon's lies if he'd tried it, many of whom are closer to Jon than they are to Wyldon.

Kel's experiences and feelings about that experience are entirely valid, and she doesn't have the knowledge we do about how hard Jon fought for her, so it's not shocking that she's upset with him for a good portion of her series. She never even discovers this truth by the end of her series, even though she does get a lesson from Jon and Thayet (and Raoul to some degree) about how politics and compromises work in order to make changes happen. So her opinion of him by the end is boiled down to the quote from Squire: "good kings weren't always good men." It makes sense for her to think this, but because Kel's knowledge base is so limited (and her worldview so black and white for much of her series), it makes her an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator about this particular issue.

Kel believes that while Jon generally does his duty and keeps the peace, he doesn't actually care all that much about his people as individuals. But in their only meaningful conversation in Squire, Jon is able to point out that he (and Thayet, who is actually equal to Jon in power, something Kel either doesn't know which would be a failure in her education or just tends to ignore so she can focus her ire on Jon) has to make a LOT of compromises in order to get ANYTHING useful done at all. Sometimes, often, it means making deals with people he doesn't like or people he just fundamentally disagrees with, because it's the first step in a multi-step plan to help more people in the long run. He also points out that just throwing his weight and authority around in order to be able to change everything he wants to change immediately regardless of what anyone else thinks about it is a great way to get himself and his family killed. Because even if he had good intentions, that would be tyranny. It does make Kel think a little, but she doesn't tend to like him much still afterwards, her resentment from her page years will always color her opinion of him a little.

However, then she gets to Haven and she's suddenly tossed into a position of leadership over a lot of other people, many of whom disagree with each other or disagree with her or both. And all of the sudden, Kel has to make compromises. She doesn't LIKE the way the sergeants often treat their men, especially the sergeants whose men are convicts, but there's very very little she can do about it without really pissing off those same sergeants and that's not something she can afford to do. There's a moment when Neal starts getting frustrated about the treatment of the convicts and she takes him out to vent to her so he doesn't vent to the sergeants, something that the sergeants would then take out on their men. Kel's reasoning as she does this is that she "preferred to avoid battles with them now so she would have authority with them later if she needed to use it." Later, Kel is talking to Daine and she says "That's all this job is... Trying to please everyone and pleasing no one. And it will only get worse, not better."

Both of these moments showcase Kel choosing to make compromises. She may not like the way the sergeants treat the convicts, but she needs to stay on the sergeants' good sides because she doesn't have enough resources to butt heads with them nor enough authority to just force the issue, and even if she DID, it could cause the sergeants to become troublesome or take out their frustration with her on the men in ways she can't see as well. But staying on the sergeants' good sides might mean letting some of their maltreatment slide if it's not physically harming the convicts. And even setting that aside, she's dealing with nearly 500 refugees eventually, all of which are from different towns in the area and have different needs, not all of which she can accommodate. This requires compromise. Sometimes she can please some of them and not others, but mostly she probably just ends up not pleasing anybody because that's often how compromises WORK.

She never makes the active connection to Jon and his lesson on leadership from Squire while she's in Haven, but that quote up there about how this job (aka being a commander) is all about trying to please everyone and pleasing no one? It sounds a HECK of a lot like "good kings weren't always good men." You can try your best to help others, but often doing the right thing can involve making everyone unhappy. You can't be everybody's friend if you're going to get anything done.

Some of this she might've learned from Raoul's style of command, but Raoul commands a fairly small amount of people (at least in comparison to a King), and so we see him able to be pretty friendly to the people he commands in a way that Jon is perhaps unable to do. And she might believe that she learned some of this from Wyldon, but Wyldon had a tendency to be very unfair and biased due to his raging bigotry and conservative values, as well as the fact that he doesn't actually even LIKE being a training master and that likely impacted the way he treated the pages (he's almost never that kind to the pages, whereas we see him capable of being quite kind with the refugees later, which is where Kel comes to the conclusion that he hadn't enjoyed being a training master).

But Jon makes an entire speech about how he (and Thayet) have been working THEIR ENTIRE REIGN to change laws that help people. He explains how they have to consider the needs of merchants, nobles, farmers, street people, priests/priestesses, and mages. They have to consider not only what these people might need or want, but also what they could do when they feel sufficiently offended and how that could impact not just the royal family or the nobility but the realm as a whole. Jon points out that they HAVE made changes, for the better, and that just because they don't always succeed at everything or because they have to compromise sometimes, doesn't mean they aren't working at making changes or that they don't care about helping people. Not everyone you have power over is going to be your friend, they might not even be someone you like. But if you're going to take on the job of leadership, that's something you have to be willing to accept and work with, which often means making compromises with people whose needs and values are contradictory to your own.

Jon probably knows when he makes the compromise with Wyldon that it will likely impact a lot of people's good opinion of him. Alanna is right there and clearly angry, and we know Thayet doesn't like the decision, either. And it's entirely possible that Jon knows in the moment that Kel herself will put the blame on him because he's the King. But he also knows that if he insists on Kel being allowed to be a page without trying to compromise with Wyldon, Wyldon will quit over it and he'll end up with ten DIFFERENT problems that could cause a lot bigger issues to far more people than just one girl. So he makes the compromise. He sacrifices Alanna and Thayet and even Kel's good opinion of him in order to ensure that Kel gets the opportunity to become a Knight without turning all of his nobles against him which could ultimately lead to a civil war. Is it fair? No, and he knows it. But it's the best option he has in order to get the outcome they all actually want which is just for Kel to have the chance to prove herself.

Kel has to make similar choices once she's finally in a position of leadership of her own. And whether she realizes it or not, without ever even spending more than a few minutes with Jon, she ends up emulating his leadership style more than anybody else's because it WORKS and it works WELL. She'll probably never admit it, she might never even realize it herself, but she's so much more like Jon than any of the other men she sees as role models. And I love that. I love the dramatic irony of that, that the one person Kel only barely respects because of a compromise he made on her behalf that she'll never even know about, is the person Kel ends up most resembling. Jon is the reason she has the opportunity to become the Protector of the Small in the first place, Jon is the person who created that environment that allowed her to nurture those values, and she'll probably never even really be able to acknowledge that, because sometimes that's what being a good leader means.

#keladry of mindelan #jonathan of conte #pots #sotl

547 notes · View notes

monstersflashlight · 3 days ago

Text

Patreon Commission for Elise

Request: Basically the reader is the CEO of some big/famous business and has a crush on her secretary but docent think that he likes her. So one day the Readers Sister come to the office for a visit and they are talking in the readers office and her secretary needs to drop off some important papers and over hears their conversation. So then he knocks on the door and acts like he didn’t hear the conversation. Reader’s sister says high and the reader notices how they interact together. So when the Readers secretary leaves the Reader is like “hey I think that you guys would look good together. He totally likes you.” Kinda stuff. And the sister is confused but docent really think much about it. So the Readers sister is staying in town for their friends wedding or something so the sister is always at the office. One day the Secretary decides to ask the Readers sister for help to get with the Reader. And that’s all I got.

A/N: This was so much fun to write, they are so in love with each other, totally would write more of them. This is kind of soft in a hot way, enjoy!

The CEO's minotaur

Minotaur x chubby fem!reader || semi-public sex, heavy making out, office sex

Your sister is in town after a very long time, and you had missed her so much, but right now, with her nagging at you about not acting on your feelings for your hot minotaur secretary… you aren’t so sure about missing her. (That’s a lie, you totally missed her, but dang if it doesn’t annoy you to be told you are stupid).

“Come on, you need to tell him, see if he feels the same way,” she’s saying. She’s told you that at least three times before in the past couple of days, but you still refuse to believe her. What has a hot minotaur to do with his human boss? Nothing.

“Stop it, you know he doesn’t like me that way,” you try to argue for what feels like the thousandth time. “He’s too goo-” You hear a knock on the door and shut up instantly, motioning your sister to be quiet, too. “Come in.” Said minotaur enters the room making you sigh in pent up frustration. His big form looks extra good today, and it does nothing to make you feel any less intense about him.

“I need you to sing these papers, ma'am,” his tone is so formal, and he keeps sending side looks to your sister as she tries to repress her laughter.

“Yes, sure, come here.” You sign the papers he puts on your desk as you tell him: “I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me ma’am, just use my name.”

“Okay…” He says, but you know he’s going to do it again. It almost feels like he likes to call you that, like it gives him some sort of satisfaction to act so proper around you. But that can’t be, right? There’s no way.

You exchange a few more words as he tells you about the calls and schedule for the rest of the day. You give him a list of a few things you need him to do as he smiles, a soft blush covering his cheeks and making you press your tights together. Fuck, you need to get it together.

When he leaves you look at your sister, who is covering her mouth with her hand trying to repress the giggles you bet she’s holding. “Don’t,” you warn her, already anticipating what she’s going to say.

She shuts her mouth but smiles brightly at you, changing topics. A while later, when your lunch break is over and your sister is leaving, she says: “For the record, he totally likes you.” She closes the door just in time to avoid the paper-clip you throw her way, her laughter heard even across the closed door.

Your sister stays in town a few more days, dropping by your office to have lunch with you every single day, saying it’s not always that she can spend time with her CEO sister in her important job. You laugh it out, but you are secretly glad she spends time with you every time she comes to the city. You miss her like crazy when she’s not there, and calls just aren’t the same.

That’s how you are about to round the corner when you hear her voice, talking to someone who shows up in your dreams way too often. “Then how do I approach her?” Your secretary says with a soft tone that makes goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“Just tell her you like her!” Your sister whisper-shouts. She was never good at being subtle.

“But- But… She doesn’t like me back. She’s my boss, and so good. She’s so pretty and powerful, and her aura is so sexy at the same time as kind… And I’m just a minotaur.” You hate the self-depreciation words coming out of his mouth. You want to scream at him that he’s wrong. That you are head over heels for him. Then he says: “She’s just so much better than me,” and you had enough.

You turn the corner and stare at his stunned face. “You are wrong,” you tell him.

Your sister is smiling so big you want to be annoyed with her, but you just can’t. Thanks to her you were able to hear him say those things about you. Fuck, she’s going to hold that over you forever, isn’t she? But at that moment you don’t even care. You just care about his sweet face all blushed in the prettiest shade of brown as he looks at you with big eyes and the hint of a smile.

“I’m going to take that as my cue to leave, have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She tells as she almost runs to the elevator.

You two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. You scan his form, his proper clothes and soft fur, the way his horns are so big they almost reach the ceiling, the sweet smile that’s spreading across his features as he registers your flushed face. You don’t know who moves first, but before you can process it, you two are in each other personal space, and he’s looking at you intently.

“Can I kiss you?” You don’t even respond, grabbing his horns and pulling him down to devour his mouth in the most hot kiss you’ve ever given (or received).

You make out like teenagers, his hands all over your body as yours explore his. It’s intoxicating to finally be able to kiss him like that, to be able to touch him the way you’ve been waiting for so fucking long. He’s driving you insane in the best way possible and, judging by his moans, he’s no better.

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you chant against his lips, pushing him softly to your office.

He hauls you up and your legs come around his waist. He walks you to your desk and sits you over it, doing the whole wiping-everything-off-the-table thing, the most cliche move of all times. You giggle as he kisses down your neck, his horns right in front of your face as you grab them to control his movements a bit more. You pull him up and devour his mouth again.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, I’m so fucking gone for you,” he whispers against your lips, his hands cupping your boobs over the fabric of your clothes as you moan. You can’t even tell him you feel the same way, your brain is foggy with desire as you palm the huge erection inside his pants.

“Take me, then. Make me yours,” you ask softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he tells you with a smirk. You kiss him again, your hands working on his clothes to open them. You think some of the buttons of his shirt fly away, but you can’t care less.

He moves you enough to get your pants off your legs, ripping your underwear as you gasp. His strength turning you on so much you want to scream his name, but instead, you bite his neck to avoid making too much noise. You can’t forget you aren’t alone in the office, the other’s cubicles might be a few hallways away, but if you let out all the noise you want, they will definitely hear, and that wouldn’t be too professional of the CEO of the company.

He apparently can read your mind, because he whispers against your ear: “One of these days I’m going to hear your sweet lips screaming my name as I pound into you,” you groan at his words.

His fingers find your needy hole, pushing one inside without preamble as he starts finger-fucking you into a mess of arousal and pent up frustration. His thumb is on your clit when the second finger enters you, making you move your hips to ride his hand. He hums in contentment, urging you to move faster, to get all your pleasure off him.

“I need you, can I… Can I fuck you?” You take a second to process his words, your brain lost in pleasure to what his hand is doing.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you agree vehemently as he chuckles, taking his fingers away from your dripping cunt and spreading your juices over his dick. When you look down to see, you have to swallow a gasp at the sheer size of him. “You are so big,” you let out without wanting to, covering your mouth in embarrassment.

He chuckles again, caressing your cheek and kissing the tip of your nose. “Don’t worry, ma’am, it will fit.” You don’t doubt his words, seeing as you are fucking drenched with desire.

When you feel the tip of his cock against your pussy, you throw your head back, moaning like a whore as the tapered head breaches you. He breathes hard against your neck, his panting making everything hotter. He keeps pushing and pushing and pushing until he’s so deep inside you can almost taste it in the back of your throat.

Your fucking is frantic and desperate. You kiss each other with such desperation that you end up panting against each other mouth’s. It’s so hot and needy, is the climax of so much pent up sexual tension between you two that your orgasm catches you off guard.

“I’m about to…” You don’t finish the phrase before your body is convulsing and your pussy is fluttering around his girth as he curses loudly.

You bury your face in his neck to muffle your sounds as you come apart in his arms, the pleasure so high it’s almost blinding. He follows you over the edge not three thrusts after, and the feel of his come painting your insides is enough to send you over a second orgasm. You bite down on his neck muscles hard, making him groan and shot another load into your tingling pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when your heart slows down a bit.

“Give me a few minutes,” he jokes, making you giggle.

235 notes · View notes

sserpente · 2 days ago

Text

S T R A Y

Synopsis: The streets are not safe at night, not in the N109 zone, and even less so for a woman. When you realise you are being followed one night, panic surges through you, your heart pounding in your chest. You have to come up with a plan, fast. Hardly anyone still mingles at this time of day, yet there is a club nearby whose lights are still lit. A group of men are chattering just outside. One of them, you recognise. It is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus himself. Discarding all rational thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, hoping that he will play along and help you. It’s an encounter you’re certain you will never forget. So when you meet again a few weeks later during a fateful business meeting and your own father offers you up to him as payment to settle a dispute, only one question remains—did you get unlucky…or lucky?

Words: 5434 Warnings: bad parenting, being followed

Life in the N109 zone was…different. More than the booming trade of vitamin D pills and weaponry, there was a certain beauty to it. One that I had come to appreciate. The glooming lights, the abrasive darkness, and that mysterious aura were a balm to the soul that most people failed to appreciate.

It was life. Life was rough. This dream of Linkon City, an escape most people here longed for, was as unreachable as the sunlight.

As for me, my father made sure of that. I was all he had—and he wouldn’t let me leave to find joy elsewhere. Not unless he could draw an advantage from it himself.

I sighed, clutching the pile of neatly stacked documents tighter to my body. Confidential documents, retrieved illegally, of course, that were too precious to entrust anyone else with. It was already past midnight and the cold had crept in without mercy, crawling further and further into the heart of the N109 zone and freezing up its streets and alleys.

I breathed out through my mouth only to watch it mix with the crisp winter air. I wasn’t dressed warmly enough but there had been no time to put on several layers of clothing before my father sent me out with urgency in his voice.

He was mad. I could consider myself lucky if I made it home safely—without any vicious Wanderer attacks or thugs who wanted my father’s head as much as they wanted the pile of documents I realised now would be better off in my bag.

Perhaps it was a coincidence that I did. Or perhaps it was some sort of divine intervention because the very moment I closed the zip, I spotted a man wearing a black beanie from the corner of my eye. It was too dark to make out his face, only that he had stopped walking…and stepped forward again as soon as I did.

Shit. Don’t panic. It could just be a coincidence. Just change the side of the road and it’ll be fine. I drew in another deep breath, bracing myself. I took a sharp turn right, crossing the street over cracked asphalt and a discarded car tire only to watch the stranger do the same.

Perhaps now it was time to panic. There was no doubt about it. My gun was in my bag. Would I be fast enough to pull it out, cock it and aim before he realised what I was doing? Possibly not. He was getting closer already. I had to act fast.

The main road was the only one fairly lit in the N109 zone. I had to disappear out of sight if I wanted to gain an advantage and in order to do that, I had to merge with the shadows. I took another sharp turn, slipping into a side alley.

Old cardboard boxes and bins lined the narrow pathway, and the pavement was still glistening with the tears the sky had cried throughout the day in the artificial light of a shady poker club that was still open.

An opportunity, perhaps? I quickened my steps, heading straight towards it. Voices accompanied the weak source of light—cheerful chatter by men and women alike. Normally, I’d stay miles away from these places. But right now, it may be my only lifeline.

Another inconspicuous glance back proved the stranger was indeed still following me.

Ten more steps. Ten more steps and I could…could do what? I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t thought this through at all. People who visited these clubs were hardly of the trustworthy sort. If anything, there was a chance they were even deadlier than the man behind me.

Still, I had no choice, perhaps I would…

My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on one of the men facing the open door of the building. His hands were buried in his pockets as if he didn’t have a care in the world, a nonchalance unusual to the N109 zone. But it was his appearance that made my breath hitch.

White hair, red eyes…this…this was Sylus. I’d only seen him once before. As a real estate agent on the dodgier and more exploiting side, my father liked picking fights over property he believed he was entitled to—it got him on Onychinus’s bad side quickly, and onto their long list of enemies they were happy to strangle on sight.

My instincts should be telling me to run. I could only imagine the pure horrors they’d inflict on me if they knew I was his daughter. But I was also running short on options. Sylus was the most powerful man in the N109 zone. And as of right now, he was the only one I would trust to be capable of helping me out of my predicament.

He heard me approach before he turned his head to face me. One of his perfectly shaped eyebrows rose slightly when my eyes locked with his, yet before he could utter even a single word, I threw myself into his arms as if he was my boyfriend and I hadn’t seen him all week. He placed his hands on my waist presumably by reflex, a barely audible gasp escaping his lips in the process.

“A little stray kitten is seeking the protection of a lion. How…adorable,” he purred. Mockery swung in his dark voice. It sent pleasant shivers up and down my spine, reminding me of how dangerous this man was, and yet…I felt safe in his arms. Protected. With a shaky breath, I nuzzled up to his neck even closer.

“Please…I’m being followed. Help me. C-can you pretend we know each other?”

Sylus stiffened in my arms. For a brief moment, I worried he’d push me away and tell me to deal with this myself but instead…instead he tightened his grip around me with a start. I let out a sigh of relief before I could stop myself.

“Who? The guy right behind you?” he asked, his tone low and stern.

“Yes,” I whispered into his ear. “He’s wearing a black beanie.”

Sylus hummed, looking up when the strange man reached us at last. “Can I help you?” he growled.

I swallowed thickly, pressing my face against Sylus’s chest. Heavens, he smelled…good. His masculine scent calmed my nerves in an instant, my trembling ceasing a little.

“N-no…” I heard the man stutter behind me.

“Then what do you want from my girlfriend? You don’t strike me as the poker type,” Sylus continued, his voice carrying just a hint of a threat. My girlfriend… Why did I like the sound of that so much? I suppressed a scoff. I’d been reading too many mafia romance novels, that was for sure.

“Your girlfriend, huh? I’m just taking a walk. Enjoying the fresh air, taking in the night breeze.”

Clearly, he was not convinced. Yet it appeared he did not realise who Sylus was either—and that as of right now, he was playing not only with fire but death itself.

“Then keep on walking and don’t look back,” Sylus said. He leaned back a little, hooking his index finger under my chin to force me to look at him. His crimson gaze went soft, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Did you have a good day at work, kitten?”

I nodded, too stunned to speak. Studying him up close, he…he was attractive. Very attractive. Shit, what was wrong with me? This wasn’t just anyone, this was…this was the leader of Onychinus himself! Sylus is dangerous, I scolded myself. Your father’s arch enemy, your...oh please, don’t develop a crush on him!

“How can I be sure you really know the lady, huh? You could be blackmailing her, making her work for you, or some shit like that. She might need my help.”

Sylus growled. I was unprepared for the jolt of electricity rippling through me when he did. But what had me at his mercy was his following action. Without showing any signs of hesitation, Sylus leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, claiming my mouth in a kiss full of longing and the promise of more.

I froze. Panicked and melting into him both at the same time. By the time he released me, his hot breath ghosting over my face, the stranger scoffed and then, finally, took off.

Butterflies exploded in my belly, my heart fluttering in my chest to the point I was worried he could hear it.

I should thank Sylus. Show him my appreciation, shower him with grateful words, and yet…my throat remained paralysed as if his kiss had awakened something in me my body was yet to come to terms with.

“You are reckless wandering around the N109 zone unarmed at this time of night, kitten,” he said once the man was out of sight.

Damn it. I shook myself. Pull yourself together!

“I’m not unarmed. I have a gun in my bag, I just…I panicked. He would have reached me by the time I got my weapon out.”

“Then carry it on your hip next time. How far are you from home?”

“About a mile. That way.” I pointed down the alley—the exact same direction the stranger had disappeared into.

I only realised now that Sylus was still holding me. I cleared my throat, peeling myself out of his embrace.

And whoever he had been conversing with, they were all gawking and had been following the spectacle as if I was the main character of a reality TV show. Oh, how lovely.

“Luke, Kieran!”

“Yes, boss?” Two young men dressed entirely in black, their faces hidden by eerie masks stepped into view, answering Sylus in unison. I blinked. Where had they come from?

“Take my car and bring this lady home safe.” His tone allowed no contradiction—not from me and certainly not from the twins. Not that they were not inclined to read every wish from his lips anyway.

“Sure thing, boss,” one of them said.

“Follow us!” the other one added.

Expecting me to do as I was told, they disappeared around the corner, the way I came from, before I could protest.

I took a step back. “Uh… Sylus?”

His crimson eyes locked with mine. A mute invitation to continue speaking.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “Good night, kitten.”

I did not look back when I took off. I couldn’t. I could still taste him on my lips along with the lingering aroma of expensive whiskey…

“In you go, miss!”

“Yeah, just tell us where you live and we’ll get you home in no time!”

Unable to tell who was who, I merely recited my address to them before I climbed into the back of the car hoping that this wasn’t a trick and they would indeed take me home.

Studying the interior as well as the exterior and taking into consideration that I didn’t know a lot about cars; even I knew that this one was expensive. Very expensive, surpassing the wealth of my father by far.

As soon as the engine was started and the twins stirred the vehicle further and further away from the poker club, my mind drifted off to Sylus and the way those stunning red eyes had softened with compassion upon learning of my precarious situation. A man with such a look in his gaze couldn’t possibly be a villain…right?

“Wait…this is where you live? This is the real estate agent’s mansion.”

“Are you his daughter?”

They both leaned back, staring at me through their expressionless masks. I swallowed thickly. Shit. I should have given them a different address. One that was right around the corner or something. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“I…I…”

“Explains why you’re sneaking around at night. That real estate agent is shady.”

“I was just trying to get home. I’m not up to anything. And I certainly don’t want any trouble.” Plus, I wouldn’t have thrown myself into the arms of my father’s greatest enemy, your boss, if I did.

“Ah, don’t worry, we won’t tell Boss about your dad.”

“Yet.”

The car doors unlocked, prompting me to breathe out audibly. “T-Thank you.”

“Good night!” they called out in unison when I got out of the car as quickly as I could muster. I’d barely closed the door again before they drove off already, leaving me behind confused and speechless. Yet? What was that supposed to mean?

It was a few weeks after this incident that my father announced I was to attend a highly important business meeting with him. So far, Onychinus had been silent. No surprise attacks, no kidnappings. I should have felt at ease that Sylus had acted like a true gentleman that night, ensuring I got home safe without expecting anything in return.

Luke and Kieran must have kept their mouth shut about my identity. And if they hadn’t, and Sylus already knew who I was and where I lived…

It should have been concern or even fear pumping through my veins. Instead, my thoughts kept circling back to the very moment the infamous leader of Onychinus had kissed me as if we were in love.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” My father stepped behind me, meeting my gaze in the mirror.

I took a deep breath and straightened my suit. “Ready, Dad. So…who are we meeting tonight? And where?”

“Place is a shady poker club about a mile from here. We won’t stay there any longer than necessary.”

Shady poker club? I swallowed thickly. He couldn’t possibly mean…

“Dad, who are we meeting up with?”

“The less you know, the better, sweetheart. Now let’s go. We’re gonna be late. He doesn’t like it when you’re late.”

He. Who was he?

My father ushered me outside and into his car before I could pry any further. We soared through the streets ignoring speed limits and the occasional obstacle. He was nervous. The way his fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white had me shift back and forth on the passenger seat all restless and uneasy myself.

He hadn’t even told me why he wanted me there in the first place. Not knowing what to expect at all threatened to have me decorate the dashboard with my dinner.

But perhaps that was a lie. Part of me did know, precisely, what to expect. I realised that the very moment the car came to a stop.

Sylus’s crimson eyes locked with mine when I entered the poker club a few steps behind my father and his men, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. If Luke and Kieran had indeed revealed my identity to him, he did not show it. His demeanour was calm. Collected.

“Mr. Sylus… Thank you for your time,” my father said.

“Don’t thank me before you have made it worth my while.” He paused and my heart skipped a beat when he stepped towards me and raised my hand to his face, pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles. “We meet again, kitten.”

It lingered on my skin even after he let go, like the gentle wings of a butterfly caressing the back of my hand. I was on fire, my face and ears so warm I could practically feel the blood pumping through them. Airplanes took off in my body, making me nauseous for different reasons entirely now. Damn it.

“Good evening, Sylus,” I pressed out at last.

My father’s eyes widened. “You know each other?”

Sylus looked at me expectantly.

“Uh… Sylus helped me out of an iffy situation the night you sent me to retrieve those documents for you. He ensured I returned home safely,” I said.

It was a challenge to hide the trembling in my voice. I’d had good reason not to tell my father about my encounter with Sylus. I suppressed a gasp when he grabbed my upper arm.

“Are you kidding me, child? You’re telling me you put yourself in the leader of Onychinus’s debt?” he hissed.

And this was exactly why.

I spotted the twins, standing guard on either side of Sylus’s chair, their masks void of any emotion as usual. Sylus himself had sat down already in the meantime, an untouched glass of whiskey on the stained poker table in front of him. The place was deserted. Neither customers nor staff filled the place with life, leading me to believe that Sylus had made sure there wouldn’t be any unwanted eyes and ears present.

“I don’t have all day,” he called over. He almost sounded…bored.

“Mr. Sylus… Of course. Excuse me. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

My father’s men scattered across the room, taking position in every corner with one hand on the handle of their guns. I swallowed, relieved when my father finally let go of me and sat down opposite Sylus. I took a seat next to him, unsure of what he expected me to do next.

Already I was hardly looking forward to the ride back home. My father would give me hell for getting involved with Onychinus on my own terms. Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

“So…Mr. Sylus. I heard you are currently investigating Mr. Edward Geoffrey’s efforts to create Evol serums?”

I frowned. Of course, Onychinus would be interested in Geoffrey’s Evol serums too. My father had always had an eye for opportunity. He surpassed himself, however, with this. Willingly setting up a meeting with the enemy was not only reckless, it was suicide.

“You heard correctly.” Sylus took out a coin from his pocket and began flicking it between his fingers.

I bit my lower lip, fighting for composure. The tension in the room was palpable. One wrong word and it would blow, causing a deadly explosion.

“I may be able to help.”

Sylus huffed a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Mr. Geoffrey is an old acquaintance of mine, you see.”

“And why would that information be relevant to me?” he replied, clearly unimpressed.

Hypnotised, I watched him play with the coin.

“Because I sold a property to him. I have access to the floor plans…and skilled men who know how to bypass the security system I set up for him.”

My father pulled out a small package and slid it across the table. Sylus looked up. Now he was interested.

“You stole a sample of one of his serums? Why?”

“Consider it a peace offering.”

“You are a fool if you think all will be forgiven because of this.” Sylus nodded at the package with his chin, then gestured for Luke and Kieran to take it. One of them snatched it off the table before my father could change his mind.

“Mr. Sylus… Let me be frank with you. I made myself very vulnerable by meeting up with you and I have no ill intentions, not tonight. I did this in good faith. My investors are not happy with me. My involvement with Onychinus has made them…wary of future collaborations.”

Sylus huffed another laugh. “That merely sounds like you are facing the consequences of your own actions. Were you expecting pity? Compassion?”

Compassion. He’d shown me compassion that night. But I was not my father. I was not here to strike a business deal. I was, apparently, here to look pretty and keep my mouth shut. It was in moments like this I resented the crudeness of my own flesh and blood.

My father shot me a brief look. He was desperate, I could see it glistening in his eyes. “Alright. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this but…how about we raise the stakes then?”

The stakes?

“An addition to your workforce, perhaps?” he went on. “My daughter is an excellent assistant to me. I’ve tasked her with many important missions in the past. She is reliable, resilient, and obedient.”

My heart skipped a beat, my stomach churning. Nausea crept its way up my throat, my limbs tensing. My own father…meant to sell me to Sylus? To Onychinus?

The shock and hurt must have been visible on my face. It was ironic, really, that my ability to keep a poker face was remarkably pathetic given the very place of this meeting.

Sylus’s crimson eyes flickered over to me before they focused on my father again. My own gaze followed him. There was no way he would agree to this. Sylus had shown himself to be nothing but a gentleman the last time we met. He’d respect my autonomy, he’d—

“Hmm. That does sound like a fair enough deal. I accept.”

What? My head whipped back in his direction, my eyes widening in pure horror. He…he couldn’t be serious now, could he? He wouldn’t let my father sell me to him like cattle…right? Right?

The man who was supposed to love and protect me turned to me. His hand felt heavy and sweaty when he put it on mine. “Go with him, sweetheart. Make me proud.”

“You’ve planned this all along.”

He nodded.

“How could you?” I choked out.

“Sweetheart…this is the N109 zone. It’s to kill or be killed. And you working for Onychinus? It will lift my reputation and respect tenfold. It won’t be too different from working for me, hmm?”

I should be surprised. Hurt. Heartbroken. And perhaps I was all of these things but instead, all I was able to feel was an uncomfortable numbness revealing to me what I had known for years without wanting to realise. My father had never truly loved me. I was a tool. A means to an end. Another mouth to feed that he was now finally rid of.

Sylus rose from his chair, flinging the coin in the air before catching it and letting it disappear in his pocket again.

“Come on, kitten. It’s getting late. Consider your name off my list. For now,” he added, addressing my father.

The twins approached me when I made no move to follow Sylus back outside and to his car. Their touch on my shoulders was surprisingly gentle. I wanted to cry. Wanted to ruin the makeup I had applied so meticulously only an hour before in order to please my father. Not a single tear was willing to escape my eyes though, not even when Sylus opened the door to the passenger seat for me and the all too familiar scent of his expensive car filled my nostrils. Moments later, we rushed through the streets as if we owned the place. In a way we did. Well, Sylus did.

I refused to take in the beauty and vastness of his home when we arrived. It reminded me of a gothic novel, one with mysterious counts and vampires luring in young women to keep them as playthings and living blood bags. Expensive art and antique furniture filled the place, our steps echoing all the way up to the high ceiling. I followed Sylus and the twins into what I assumed was both a lounge and a dining room.

Luke and Kieran placed the mysterious serum my father had retrieved on the table, removed the stopper, and gave it a little sniff before popping it back on.

“Now what?” I spat.

“Is it a fake, what do you think?” Sylus asked nonchalantly, ignoring my question entirely.

He… I gnashed my teeth. Why was he acting like I wasn’t even in the room?

“Looks genuine, Boss. We should have it checked though, just to be sure.”

Sylus nodded. “Leave it here for now. I’ll deal with it later.”

Three…two…one. I waited until Luke and Kieran had left the room before I all but threw myself at Sylus. This time, however, it was not to seek comfort and aid. This time, I was out for blood.

“You bastard!” I lashed out at him. “Why did you agree to this? Accepting me as a prize like I’m some sort of slave! I thought…I thought you were…”

Sylus’s reflexes were downright terrifying. He snatched my wrist before my palm got even close to his cheek, his red eyes darkening.

I gasped for air when he pushed me against the nearest wall and my back hit the golden frame of a painting, his large body pressed up against me and nullifying any chance at escape. Heavens, he was strong. I was well trained in martial arts, my father had insisted I learned to defend myself since my early childhood, but Sylus? Sylus could crush me. He wouldn’t even need to use his Evol for it.

“I agreed to your father’s proposal for your sake, kitten,” he growled. “Not for mine.”

“My sake? My sake? Am I supposed to believe that?”

“What kind of father bargains his own daughter away, kitten? You’re better off without him.” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment as if my behaviour was sawing on his nerves. “I have half a mind to send you back. You are acting obnoxiously ungrateful.” I…I couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not.

“How dare you?” I spat.

“Am I wrong? Your father doesn’t strike me as the type you say no to. What was your life like, I wonder? Running errands for him? Constantly putting yourself in danger like that first night we met, disregarding your own dreams, your own needs, all in order to earn the love of a man who was never willing to grant it to you in the first place?”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” I struggled against his steel grip, hot and salty tears now finally threatening to spill and stain my flushed cheeks. Sylus was right. He was right about everything and hearing him speak it all out loud was so painful my knees gave up on me. It all came crashing down on me like a landmine. My father’s betrayal, my services being sold like a pint of milk in the supermarket, Sylus…Sylus.

My attempt to shove him away caught him off guard long enough for me to slide to the floor the very moment he reached for the next best thing to steady himself—it was the dining table, the small bottle containing the mysterious Evol serum an inch too close to the edge.

Sylus cursed when it tipped over. The twins must not have stuffed the stopper back in properly, for when it did, its liquid contents spilled all over the smooth surface of his mahogany table and his long fingers. It sizzled when it made contact with his skin, throwing bubbles and emitting smoke before eventually drying into his pores in the blinking of an eye.

“What happened? What did it do? Are you hurt?” I didn’t want to show concern for this man. I ought to hate him, despise him, loathe him… I blinked my tears away. I just…I couldn’t. There was anger, yes. But…there was something else too. It was that feeling again. That very same feeling that had already filled me from head to toe the very night I had wrapped my arms around him begging for his help. It was security. Security and…protection. Like I could put my life in his hands and he would cherish it.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled. Sylus shook his hand out as if that would help remove whatever substance had crawled under his skin, salvaged what was left of the serum, and then, finally, sank to the floor so we were eye to eye again, propping one knee up and resting his underarm on it. His dark red gaze met mine. He appeared to be…fine. Perhaps my father had lied and the serum was a fake after all.

“I suggest…a ceasefire for now.”

I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, wiping my eyes. My palms came back bearing black streaks from my makeup but I couldn’t care less. Nevertheless…I nodded.

“If you don’t want me as your assistant…does that mean…I’m free to go?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“You are not a prisoner here. Although, I would prefer to keep you around for a while longer. Your father will notice if you go straying again too soon, kitten.”

It took me a sharp inhale to process his words. Safe, a treacherous voice in my head whispered. You are safe with him.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” I wish you’d never stop calling me that. My heart skipped a beat whenever he did.

Sylus chuckled. “Don’t act like you hate it. You are…” He did not finish his sentence. My jaw dropped to the floor when he was suddenly stopped by a pair of fluffy brown cat ears springing from his white hair. They were quickly followed by a long tail of the same fur colour. Sylus tensed and gasped audibly.

“W-what is happening?” I choked out.

With one hand, he reached up to feel his ears, flinching when he realised that they were part of his body and…assumingly sensitive.

“So that’s what the serum does…” Sylus mumbled.

I gasped, covering my mouth with my palm to stifle a hysteric laugh.

“Who’s the kitten now, Sylus?”

Shit, this… This was all so…so absurd! All of it! This whole evening, me being here, Sylus turning into an Evol cat…could anything else go horribly wrong at this point?

My emotions turned into a bubbling cauldron full of uncertainty. It was overwhelming, to say the least. And I was getting tired of trying to figure out which feeling I wanted to give in to. Wiping the wet tears from my cheeks one last time, I sniffled and sat up, determined to not let fate get the better of me. I’d get through this. Somehow.

“I’m glad you’re amused.”

“You…you have no idea how much I needed this. You…you’re going to be okay though, right?”

“Of course I will. I just need to find out how to reverse the effects.”

“Why were you interested in this serum anyway? My father’s motivations I can understand, he’s in it for the money but you are…you are filthy rich already.” And the more I’m speaking to you, the more I’m realising you’re not the brutal and cold criminal I thought you were.

“There may be links to the usage of an Aether Core. That is all you need to know, kitten.”

I raised an eyebrow, half a smirk battling the sternness on my face. Truly, I couldn’t care less about Protocores. “I think you lost the right to call me that when you grew a pair of cat ears and a wagging tail, Sylus,” I said instead.

I paused, biting my lower lip. I made my decision there and then. I was safe. For now. And…I trusted him. I trusted Sylus enough to keep me alive and well and that had to suffice for now. I could deal with those strange butterflies awakening in my belly whenever he was near me tomorrow.

“I…I want to stay. And help you fix…whatever this is.” I reached up, scratching his left ear. My eyes widened when a little moan escaped his lips.

“That…is sensitive.”

Oh. Did…did he just growl?!

“You are welcome to stay, kitten. Nothing will happen to you here. Besides…I could use another assistant once I’ve sent Luke and Kieran off to find an antidote for…this.”

He whipped his tail in my direction where it wrapped around my waist. I cleared my throat. I was starting to feel a little cheeky now that I was certain that Sylus would keep his promise. Banter helped. Banter kept me distracted.

“I could be of great assistance indeed. I’ll clean your litter box every day, buy you fresh milk, brush your tail…and I’m more than happy to take you to the vet to get you checked for fleas.”

His gaze darkened. Evidently, my joke was not lost on him. Nor was the playfulness.

“You’re dancing on very thin ice, sweetie.” Sweetie? Now that was a new nickname. I decided I liked it just as much.

“I like to live on the edge. I… I hope you’ll compensate me adequately for my services though.”

Sylus crawled forward and pressed me closer against the wall with a start, almost as if his newly won feral instincts had taken over, ushering him into showing his affection by rubbing against me. I suppressed a moan. Being so close to him had my mind wander off into dangerous territory I was certain there was no coming back from. And to make matters even worse… Sylus’s crimson gaze now dropped to my slightly parted lips.

“Generously…” he whispered.

I’d gotten unlucky before. All my life, to be precise. Maybe today, the tables had finally turned.

#sylus #sylus imagine #sylus x you #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus lads #sylus lads imagine #sylus lads x you #sylus lads x reader #sylus lads x mc #love and deepspace #lads

156 notes · View notes

taojjang · 2 days ago

Text

riize when you're on your period ✮⋆˙

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff (tiny bit of crack idk), warnings: menstrual cycle, blood, medication

♡⸝⸝ how he'd spoil you rotten during that time of the month

shotaro . . .

◦ oh how sweet he'd be :(

◦ taro is always the sweetest to you, treating you like a princess every waking moment of your life.

◦ but when you're on your period, he does everything in his power to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

◦ he wouldn't shy away from buying your feminine hygiene products! a real man, we love to see it!

◦ he'd be at your house every day, calling you beforehand to ask if you need him to get something for you.

◦ even if you say no, he'll never arrive empty-handed. he'll bring your favorite ice cream and maybe even a new teddy bear!

★ - "i'm sorry you're having a tough time, honey... is there anything i can do for you?"

eunseok . . .

◦ not a single day goes by where eunseok isn't spoiling you, waiting for your every request

◦ nothing changes during this time of the month; your caring boyfriend still stopping at nothing to make your life as easy as it can be.

◦ the only difference is that he'd never leave your side for even a second.

◦ he'd be sat beside you stroking your hair, occasionally checking to see if you're in pain or need anything from him.

◦ in the morning he'd ask you what you feel like eating so he can plan out today's meals, always ensuring his baby is happy and well-fed </3

◦ once he notices even a small wince from you, he wastes no time, rushing to grab a hot pack and leaving soothing kisses on your forehead.

★ - "i know it hurts, darling, i'm sorry. i'll take care of it, i promise."

sungchan . . .

◦ your cuddle buddy!

◦ whenever it's that time of the month, really all he wants to do is scoop you up in his arms and hug all of the pain away :( ... which conveniently works!

◦ when you're experiencing cramps, sungchan is always beside you, gently rubbing your tummy. he holds you delicately in his arms as if you'd shatter with too rough of a touch.

◦ his large, warm hands work wonders for your minor cramps and he knows that, so he never stays far from you in case you need him.

◦ but when your cramps are intense, sungchan always feels so sad and helpless :( he frantically researches remedies while you curl up in his lap, crying against his chest.

◦ he wipes your tears and kisses their trails, trying his best to soothe you in any way possible.

★ - "i'm so sorry, princess... the medicine should be kicking in any second now. should we try to take a nap?"

wonbin . . .

◦ a clueless cutie (・・ ) ?

◦ he'd be helplessly sitting beside you, too scared to touch you in fears of hurting you even more.

◦ nevertheless, he'd still be layering you with blankets and googling how to help his suffering gf (he's a loser and you love him!)

◦ in the end, he asks you to tell him whatever it is that you need, but all you want is cuddles and snacks :( so ofc he delivers!

◦ he'd order a bunch of your favorite snacks and find a good movie to watch

◦ would put on a comedy but laughing hurts your stomach so you watch a sappy romance instead, aaaand now he's stuck wiping your tears while you ugly cry over some cliche movie...!

★ - "you're such a crybaby. come here, let me kiss you."

seunghan . . .

◦ the way he treats you when you're on your period alone is already grounds for marriage

◦ seunghan would cater to your every need— buying your hygiene products, running errands, completing house chores, shit maybe even doing homework for you

◦ he just can't see his baby in pain :(

◦ the second you're leaning over in pain, he's running over to hug you probably with tears in his eyes

◦ every little flinch and he's asking if you need to go to the hospital

◦ he's the most caring boy in the world and he'd do anything for you <3

★ - "i'm sorry it hurts so much, angel... but i'm so proud of you, you know that?"

sohee . . .

◦ sohee would wear a stoic and confident act, but the poor boy is just a confused, scared, anxious little dude...

◦ he would be less clingy than the other members but would still travel lengths to make you feel better.

◦ sohee would work on lifting your spirits! he'd love to pick up food from your favorite restaurant and eat with you :3

◦ he'd do anything to make you smile— often ordering frozen yogurt at 2am and watching naruto until sunrise

◦ he knows how excruciating your menstrual cycle is, so he does everything in his power to make you happy even if its just for a split second.

◦ he's just your little ball of sunshine <3

★ - "i know it hurts, pretty girl... how about i order froyo? would that take your mind off of it..?"

anton . . .

◦ GOD SAVE THIS POOR BOY

◦ he is just about as emotionally drained as you are...

◦ every time you'd whine in pain, he'd hold you close to him and cry with you, constantly whispering apologies and comforting words.

◦ he goes out to buy your hygiene products but probably ends up calling you to tell him which one to buy... poor boy is super shy but he reminds himself it's for your girlfriend!

◦ he probably asks you questions about your period so he can become more prepared and knowledgeable, but you're not in the mood to talk so you end up cuddling instead (◡﹏◡)

◦ you lie cuddled up against his chest as he strokes your hair with one hand and rests the other on your lower back, soaking in each others' presence.

★ - "you're so admirable, my love. you're doing so well."

144 notes · View notes

simp-ly-writes · 8 hours ago

Text

Hope in a Bottle

─────── · ·

Pairing: AU!Silco x Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You had died many years ago, or at least that was true in Silco's world. He had learned to live without you but when graced with the opportunity to see you once again- he can't help but indulge.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, ANGST (but no seriously there are no happily ever afters), some fluff/comforting moments, suggestive themes.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: I cried like at least four times when writing this, this show HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD.

─────── · ·

Silco often thought about you in passing moments. These moments he remembered sharing with you amongst your friends and in the comfort of your arms used to be coated in blue that he would drown and surround himself in; but as your presence forever lingered in his mind blue turned to pink and rose-tinted glasses glossed over every moment- every memory with a certain degree of fondness that he would catch himself smiling even when no one was in the room.

You would always manage to light up the room, tell him a joke when he needed it most, told him off and raised him up. He put so much of himself into you into your presence that when you left... it was like he had to redefine who he was but forever remained unsuccessful.

Silco learned to live without you physically but that did not mean that your jacket was still not waiting for your return on the back of his couch or your glass still half-filled by the bedside. Your chair at the bar was always kept at the back, awaiting your return as you both shared kisses in the storage room. He would always remember how the stained glasses reflected in your eyes, the colour breaking across your skin in a forever radiant presence just like you.

Vander would catch Silco in these moments when wiping down the bar top or taking a walk down by the Zaun bay, overlooking the artificial lights and hints of sunlight being cast upon the black waters. Watching as the mans hand opened and tensed before falling back down to his side.

"You doing alright there. brother?" Vander asked in a soft tone as they both crossed over to topside for the day. Silco looked up, a strand of his hair falling from his salt and pepper hair- blowing with the wind. "We are always alright in the hope to be better, and when we get better we hope for it to stay only to be alright once again; stuck in the cycle of it all I find myself on the better side today."

Vander hums along to Silco's words as they stop at the various market stalls to see their offerings a few new bottles for the bar from another region across the sea and a bag of sweets for the kids in the area. The men are suddenly greeted with another body stepping in between the two and falling inline with their pace.

"And how are we doin'?" Powder asks with a wide smile, trying to squeeze her arms together to encompass both of their sides before turning around to walk backwards and hold conversation.

Silco winces as Power almost misses lamp post after lamp post by mere millimetres. "We are fine, just about to make our way back home actually. Anywhere your headed, young lady?" Silco teases, his voice sharing sincerity in every syllable.

Powder rolls her eyes before turning back around, head tilting over her shoulder before she disappears back amongst the crowd, "Going to see this new invention Echo has been telling me about!" Vander shakes his head with a loving stare where Powder had just stood.

"She's going to change the world one day, you know?" Vander says to the wind, hoping that it catches her ears but it only does Silcos.

"I'm afraid she already has for she is your own world," Silco comments, placing a hand on his friends shoulder before powering forwards. "I hate it when your always right," Vander teases before taking two long strides to catch back up.

"Well I perfected it only from the best." Both mens minds go directly back to you, smiling and twirling in the bar to a new record you had found on the topside. Somehow you had already known all the lyrics after this being your supposed first time listening to the piece.

"They always knew, huh," Vander says, looking down to catch Silco small smile. "Yes, but not everything I wanted them to..."

─────── · ·

When back in Zaun and at The Last Drop, bar-goers had already flooded the decorated space for tomorrow night it would be the inventions fair, a bar local already chosen to set the mood for the night and a few university members stationed with scholarships in mind.

Both Vander and Silco were excited to witness the extraordinary kids they knew have the opportunity to show their talents to others and hopefully the collective dream of them changing the world would come true but fate always had to make its presence known in the doorway.

Blue sparkled out of the corner of Silco's eye as he leaned against the bar top waiting to continue his conversation with Vander. A half eaten apple sat beside his notebook that he was picking away at while conducting the accounting for the month. His back burned with his age from being hunched over for so long as he stood up to stretch.

Laughs echoed throughout the bar, feet dancing against the wooden plank floors, drinks clashing and spilling against the tables as another gets thrown out the side door. Powder had left a few moments ago with Echo, a certain mischievous look in her eye that Silco did not find unusual at the time would only shock his system now when he caught from reflection in the glass of his amber filled cup.

Your name graced his lips, remembering the feel, imaging your warmth against his skin and to feel it, to see it. He thought to be surreal, to be going senile as he looked to Vander for support and only found him smiling with a wink before turning back around to serve another customer.

Your skin was a thousand colours coming to life in his eyes, his hand drifting from the back of your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, neck upon which you shiver and rest your forehead upon his own. "How I've missed you," words that he only hoped to hear, have only read to himself in comfort written by his own hand- a fantasy turned reality now spoken to truth between your very own lips that Silco had to claim.

You melted into his touch, decades without the familiarity- him haunting your body with memory of his touch now appearing as goosebumps in recognition. You smile against his lips, hand running up against the smooth fabric of his vest before lacing in the silver locks of his hair.

Out of breath, you both pant, hands still gripping one another tightly as if afraid the other would disappear once more. "I thought to have lost you, to be so alone for so long. Why is it now that you appear just when I was surviving once again off of scraps?" Silco asks into your ear, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. Even when in a crowded bar, it is only the two of you present in this moment.

"I would ask myself the same questions when I came back alive thanks to the technology developed in my universe and by what force I have yet to know, I am forever thankful for returning me, my soul, back to you to rest finally," you speak through tears mixing with Silco's silent ones dripping down his cheekbones and falling against your clothes that stain the fabric dark.

"I should thank that force as well," Silco murmurs, lost in your eyes, brushing away your tears. "I think it best we have the rest of this conversation elsewhere," Silco grabs your hand before pulling you out of the bar. The cheers and claps becoming distant as he leads you back to his apartment.

He locks the door behind you both, watching as you gently let go of his hand and walk around his space. Your hand feels the leather of your jacket still sat in the same place where you left it, against the couch in a forgotten moment of need. You continue towards the kitchen, seeing the various crayon pictures of Violet and Powder attached to the fridge who Silco explained to you before walking towards the bedroom. Your glass still waiting for you beside an unopened bottle you remember gifting Silco for his birthday.

"Why did you never open it?" You ask, fingers tracing around the neck of the bottle coated in a layer of dust you blow from your fingertips. "You said not to open it without you there to try it, I kept to my promise in hope for an impossible day like today. It was a reminder of not to drain my hope as many other's do."

All you can do is nod before holding the bottle in between your hands, a sickness suddenly washes over you as you take in Silco's form leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed, leg tucked over the other and the scar of his yellow eye glowing warmly- lighting up the room amongst the candles.

He expects you to open the bottle, you understand that in doing so means you are to stay but that is something you cannot do. Not when Echo and the Professor are building a time-machine, not when your world is about to erupt in ruins.

You want nothing more to indulge more than you already had into this word of perfection and wrongs written right but that would be a cruelty brought upon this world. You knew you shouldn't have gone up to him, kissed him, felt his skin upon you skin only to take it away like the hopes of everyone else who had died during this war.

But you were only human, your heart already shattered and in need of repair, of warmth and kindness but you would only be selfish just as much as those you were out to strike down. "I-I can't open the bottle Silco. I-" you start to sob, hands shaking before placing the bottle back upon the nightstand.

You bring your knees back up to your chest, breaths heavy as your head spins, blood starting to drip down your nose, the reflection of blue out of the corner of your eyes as you gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white as Silco runs over, falling to his knees as he begs to see your face.

"Please, whatever is the matter, darling?" Silco asks, the sweetness of his tone doing nothing but to further indulge your nausea as you spiral. "I shouldn't have come to you, have done any of this!" You shout, trying to shove the man away but Silco only stands, wrapping his arms around your body as you do your best to kick and shove him away.

You look over his shoulder, watching as the sunsets through the window and sheer blinds. "Silco," you sob, fingers digging into the material of his vest once again in a panic rather than in reverence. "Silco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that this was not forever, that this will only be another memory and perhaps the once that hurts the most knowing that I left rather than was forced to..."

"Then let me hurt, allow me to bleed, allow me to weep for I have endless time for that but only a finite time to be truly happy. So please, indulge me, drink it all and leave me once more with the knowledge that you are out there somewhere in another place, alive. Please, please," Silco begs turn into whispers as you press your tears into his neck before leaving a lingering kiss.

"Until the sunrise we shall be happy in the night," you speak softly in between kisses, your vision still clouded in tears.

"Until the sunrise," Silco restates before capturing your lips once more and sighing heavily. The moons bask ignites you both, lighting the liquid in your bodies burn as you take pleasure in one another.

You feel him, your hearts and souls connecting, rekindling in what is only to be heartbreak that makes you both press harder into one another. Leave marks across each others skin and kiss them delicately afterwards. It is in you both taking a bath afterwards until the cold waters have you both frozen still in realization as the sun rises and fills the room. Its warmth lost as you pick up your clothes and leave your jacket leaning against the couch once more.

You stare at the empty bottle at the bedside and watch as Silco picks it up and looks at you through it was a wavering smile. "Goodbye, my love and know that it was always you my soul yearns for and you who I define myself as."

"I really wish this didn't have to be the end, Silco...." you try your best not to sob, chocking on your words yet standing firm in your positions knowing that comforting one another would only make the hurt worse than it already was burning. "...in another life, I can see how easily we could have had it all- could have been happy."

"I wouldn't want any other memories than the ones we share," you nod in agreement, your body shakes, skin burns in want as you reach for the cold handle that sends shivers down your spine.

"Goodbye, Silco, I love you, forevermore."

"And I you."

─────── · ·

The walk to Jinx's place is a long and cold one, a thousand pairs of eyes stare at you with their condolences. You refuse to meet any of their stares, knowing that by just one look you would be running back into his arms for comfort.

Echo and Heimerdinger are already there and waiting for you, Echo extends his hand and lifts you up onto the platform. A swirl of arcane magic mixed fits the seeds of that all-too-familiar blue have you floating with a scream as the Professor sacrifices himself with one last salute to you both. Echo holds you, the loss of today holding heavy yet his touch is not what you yearn for as you cry into his jacket, gripping the collar of it as colours swirl around your vision and you are brought back to the battlefield once more.

Bullets wiz past your had, another graces your cheek as your blood falls like tears against the broken pavement. The roar of a monster rumbles the ground as you sprint towards the closing barriers, throwing yourself over them and into a sea of dead blue enforcers.

Screams haunt your ears, echoing distantly through your memories and brought forth into reality as you step over cast aside limbs and guns. You watch as Vi ahed of you holds another as they take their final breaths, a machine gun makes you loose hearing in your left ear and next thing you knew, a burning sensation was coming from your right leg where a ghastly wound had planted itself.

Hoisting and forcing yourself to stand you carry forth with a limp and defend the entrance, holding cover and watching as the trojan horse gets rolled in through the barriers all you can feel is Silco's marks as you charge forwards with an unrelenting cry.

─────── · ·

Silco fell back into the bed and stayed in that exact same numb position until Vander came to find him, "You know, there was a part of me debating weather or not to distract you from 'em and theres a part of me now that regrets not doin' so."

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, the hurt of not seeing them when I got the chance to would have hurt just as much if not more. But I appreciate the sentiment, brother," Silco responds, rolling the cork of the bottle in between his thumb and finger.

"Finally drank it, huh?" Vander comments, picking up the bottle from the stand as gently as possible between his large hands. All Silco can do is smile, a singular tear dripping down his cheek that gets cast away, "yeah, something like that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: so... what did y'all think?

#fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #x reader #simp-ly-writes #arcane silco #silco x reader #silco #au!silco x reader #older!silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane fanficiton #angst #hurt no comfort #heavy angst #suggestive themes

106 notes · View notes

abbysimsfun · 3 days ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 92 (Conrad's First Love)

cw: Conrad getting pretty spicy 🌶️🌶️🌶️ and not with Heather; references to human and drug trafficking (not depicted).

Follows the events of this post.

As she passed him to put away her gloves, a stunning redhead at Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym caught Conrad's eye. Though he'd been deep in another bout of anger and self-pity over the death of his mother years earlier, he stopped his workout. Every inch of his being compelled him to talk to her.

She turned with a smile before he could stammer a single word. "Hi, handsome. Did you want a better look?"

He nervously introduced himself and she told him her name. "Ximena." The word floated from her lips like a song. He was instantly smitten.

"Ximena, could I buy you a drink?"

They spent the day in a local pub. He told her everything about his mother's death and his distance from his father in the years since. She listened, but she had a lot less to say about herself. "I live here with my brother. I'm a student, and I'm the only caretaker he has. Our parents aren't around anymore, and it's been just Rafa and me for years."

He could hear an accent when she spoke, and most people in Britechester weren't locals, so he made an assumption. "How long since you moved from Selvadorada?"

Surprised by his guess, she turned defensive. "I don't talk about Selva."

He liked her too much to press and push her away, so they spent the rest of the day flirting and discussing their interests until Ximena invited him back to her place. "You make me laugh, Conrad Gordon. My brother's still at school and I want to get to know you better without all this noise. I hate the music they play in here."

Once Conrad followed her out of the bar and back to the small home she shared with her kid brother, Rafa, he started following her everywhere.

He lost his virginity to her a week after they met. That night, she told him why she left Selvadorada.

"I was going to die or they were going to kill me. I wouldn't let them sell me to anyone anymore, so I made a plan and left with my brother in the middle of the night to come here."

She showed him the scars left by the cartel, and a resolve to keep her safe coloured his already steadfast affection. He let her cut his hair when she said she wanted to show him how freeing it felt to change his look. "It's nice not to recognize the person in the mirror, sometimes," she said.

She told him she was a student, often meeting him at Larry's Lagoon to study but usually distracting him into other activities. One afternoon, she introduced him to an old friend, Jimmy Stefano. "Can you help him out around campus? You're in the same major."

Something about Jimmy Stefano rubbed Conrad the wrong way, but he assumed it was jealousy. Despite this, he would already do anything for Ximena and agreed to take Jimmy under his wing.

He called his father to say he planned to stay at school for Spring Break. "Sorry, I know I said I'd come home to see you."

Stephen Gordon laughed him off, but masked slight disappointment. He had no idea whether his son was flourishing or floundering at college, unsure how he'd been coping so far from home. "Don't worry, son. I'm just glad you sound happy. You're making me and your mother proud."

He skipped classes to spend time with Ximena, but made no mention of this to his father, of course. He spent time with Rafa when Ximena said she had late-night classes, taking him to the park to play pirate captain versus sea monster, and talking endlessly with him about video games.

Rafa wanted to become a pirate captain in Sulani or a game tester in San Myshuno. He had almost no memory of life in Selva before his sister left, but he knew it was "the bad place." He liked spending time with Conrad because he said his sister was too strict. "She just loves you," Conrad assured him. "Parents have to set rules, and she can't just be your sister. She has to care for you like a parent, too."

He realized then how important it was to be a model for Rafa, who needed guidance as much as anyone his age. Conrad had always had his father, but who did Rafa have besides Ximena?

Conrad discovered how she paid for an entire house for her and her brother by accident, stumbling on an argument between her and Jimmy Stefano near the campus fountain. "The deal was thirty pounds for three grand."

"They said if I didn't have five grand they'd only give me fifteen. They had guns, Ximena."

"They all have guns! Knives, too. Get your own and figure out how to use it. Watcher, please, don't screw this deal up for me, Jimmy."

"Who has guns?"

"The cartel," said Jimmy, so nonchalant, yet it still hit Conrad like a missile. His stomach turned as he read Ximena's expression. Every lie she'd told him unravelled with a look.

"Are you really a student here, Ximena?"

"No. They're my customers."

He'd had his suspicions, but he'd always told himself he was wrong. Ximena was supposed to be perfect. Hoping against hope, he still tried to play the fool. "What do you mean?"

She dragged him back home to tell him the truth - how she'd bargained with the cartel to escape a life of servitude to the men who ran product all over Simlandia. She refused to serve them, but her way out was to join them instead.

Conrad was angry, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long. As they lay in bed that night, she asked, "Are you going to break up with me because of what I do?"

"Not a chance. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled, resting her head on his chest as he ran a hand through her newly blonde hair. "You look nice without glasses, Conrad."

"You already gave me a haircut, Xime. You don't like glasses?"

"Conrad, you're very sexy. But you hide it and it's silly."

"If you're going to give me a makeover, what should I get you?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Ximena, I want to give you everything you could ever want."

She blushed. "I want you, Conrad. But since I already have you, maybe...jewelry? Like a ring."

"You don't wear any rings."

"Because none are special enough, Conrad."

He smiled. "Alright, that's one idea. But say I wanted to surprise you, what else did you want?"

"You could join me running product for the cartel. Our lives would be made, and we'd always be together."

"I don't want to run product for the cartel, Ximena. But I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be there for you. Rafa, too."

"Right, but what if I go? Rafa loves you, Conrad, almost as much as me. But what if the cartel moved me somewhere else? Would you come with me? Maybe you could be, like, my security. No running, just keeping me safe. Always with me and Rafa."

He'd do anything to protect her, but he didn't answer her that day, refocusing on his studies until he returned to San Myshuno at the end of the semester.

He'd missed his father more than he expected, and they went for walks in warm sunshine by the Spice Market. They talked about school, and Conrad talked about Ximena - leaving out details of her career and focusing instead on her relationship with her brother. Conrad rarely asked his father about work, but Stephen hinted he was inching closer to retirement. "Chester's daughter Nancy is ready to take over the company, but Chester's not quite ready to retire. I think she's plotting a coup, but you didn't hear that from me."

"What happens to you if she pushes out her own father?"

"Hopefully, a retirement package. Chester may not be ready, but I think I am."

On one of their walks, they passed a jewelry store, and Conrad made a beeline for the ring counter. A confident salesman smiled as the Gordon men walked inside. "Welcome. What are we shopping for today?"

"I'm just looking," Conrad said. "What rings do you have?"

The salesman beamed. "Are we thinking of an engagement?"

Stephen eyed his son carefully, but Conrad shook his head. "Not right now. Just like, for an accessory."

"I don't know, son. A ring says you're ready for forever."

Conrad took his father's words to heart, considering what forever with Ximena might look like. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't ready for a ring. He left that day with a nice bracelet for her, instead.

"Even leaving with a bracelet as nice as that one...she must mean something. I'd love to meet her."

Conrad nodded. "She might be able to visit this summer, if she's not too busy with work," he said.

Stephen smiled and the Gordon men continued their walk, strengthening the bond nearly severed by grief before Conrad returned to Britechester for another semester. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOT FUN FACT: Conrad got crab lice from Ximena when they slept together for the first time, which is gross but also fitting I guess. And yet I didn't make it canon because it didn't quite fit the vibe. Plus, he wasn't supposed to find out that early on that Ximena was problematic.

WCIF Poses Used? Various from packs Old Souls Love Differently by @simmireen (when Ximena is blonde), Our First Time by @eclypt0sims (redhead), The Kiss by @simmerberlin (black hair) and Nights Like These by @sakurasims-world (also redhead).

WCIF Jewelry Store? Jewelry Store by Guinifere on the Sims 4 Gallery. Very elegant interior and comes with crafting tables, a vault, charging stations - very nice lot! Needs dressing up with completed jewelry on the counters and in displays to look really spectacular (and I of course went the lazy route), but I wouldn't if I was playing a retail career, and this is a great lot for someone who wants to be a jeweler!

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #flashback #britechester #san myshuno

86 notes · View notes

uhbambii · 2 days ago

Text

An Evening at the Dellamorte Villa

The Dellamorte villa was beautiful, its elegance polished but understated, much like its owner. The warm glow of the fire danced across the room, the shadows playing along the stone walls and plush furniture. Lucanis Dellamorte sat on the edge of the couch, his posture straight, his dark, piercing eyes fixed on the woman beside him. His dark hair, slightly tousled, gave him an effortlessly refined appearance, as though he hadn’t given it a thought. His presence, as always, felt unshakable—calm, controlled, and ever so slightly intimidating.

Rook sat curled up at the other end of the couch, balancing a cup of coffee in her hands. A generous dollop of whipped cream topped the drink, and she took a slow sip, savoring the sweetness. It was a stark contrast to the man beside her, who held his plain, black coffee like it was just another tool to keep himself sharp.

“You drink it like a child,” Lucanis said, his voice low and edged with dry humor.

Rook looked up, blinking at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Excuse me?”

He gestured vaguely toward her cup. “The whipped cream. It’s excessive.”

She smirked at him, unbothered by his tone. “It’s delicious.”

“It’s indulgent.”

“That’s the point,” she replied, taking another long sip, the cream smudging her upper lip. She smiled at him over the rim of the mug, her sweetness contrasting with his ever-serious demeanor.

Lucanis tilted his head, his sharp gaze unwavering. “You’re impossible to argue with,” he muttered, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes.

She giggled, the sound soft and light. “I take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you do,” he said dryly, though he allowed the faintest curve of a smile to tug at his lips.

Despite his usual reserve, there was something about Rook that disarmed him, though he would never admit it aloud. Her presence was calming, warm, a welcome change from the constant weight of duty and responsibility that defined his life. She made the sharp edges of his world feel softer somehow.

As the fire crackled in the hearth, Rook leaned back into the couch, her gaze drifting to him. “You should relax more often, you know,” she said softly, her tone as warm as the glow of the room.

Lucanis raised an eyebrow. “This is me relaxing.”

She laughed again, and he couldn’t help but notice how her eyes sparkled when she did. “I think you can do better than that.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he replied, deadpan, though there was a teasing undertone to his words.

“You just need more practice,” she said, her voice gentle but playful.

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his piercing gaze softening slightly. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire. She looked utterly at ease, and it struck him how much he wanted to protect moments like this—her laughter, her light, her unwavering belief in him.

“You’ve got something,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

He gestured to her mouth. “Whipped cream. On your lip.”

“Oh,” she said, her hand moving to wipe it away.

“Wait,” he said, his voice stopping her mid-motion. He set his cup down on the table and leaned forward, the intensity in his dark eyes making her breath hitch. “Let me.”

Her cheeks flushed as he closed the space between them. His movements were deliberate, his hand brushing her wrist as he gently lowered it. There was a moment of stillness, his gaze locked on hers, and then his lips met hers in a kiss so soft and certain that it stole the air from her lungs.

The sweetness of the whipped cream melted away as he lingered, his kiss deepening ever so slightly before he finally pulled back. He stayed close, his face mere inches from hers, his sharp features softened by an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Better,” he said, his voice low and filled with quiet satisfaction.

Rook’s cheeks were blazing, and she stared at him, her wide eyes making her look both stunned and endearing. “Lucanis,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” he asked, his smirk returning, though this time it was softer, almost tender.

“That was…” She struggled for words, her heart still racing.

“A necessary correction,” he said, though the playful edge in his tone betrayed him.

She let out a breathless laugh, her embarrassment giving way to warmth. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, his arm moving to rest along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder, “you’re still here.”

She sighed, leaning into his touch. “I am,” she admitted, her voice soft.

He pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her with a protectiveness that felt as natural as it was rare. For a man who was so often stoic and distant, this moment of closeness was a revelation.

“You shouldn’t make a habit of this,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost teasing. “I’m not known for being good company.”

“I think you’re better company than you think,” she replied, her tone light but sincere.

His fingers brushed her hair, the touch slow and deliberate. “Ah, sei una testarda, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her eyes soft. “And you like that about me.”

His lips twitched into a small, rare smile. “I’ll admit… it has its appeal.”

“You know,” she murmured, her voice sleepy but filled with affection, “you’re a lot softer than you pretend to be.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Soft? Cara mia, that is not a word anyone has ever used to describe me.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “Well, maybe they just don’t know you like I do.”

Her words caught him off guard, and for a moment, he simply looked at her, the firelight reflecting in her eyes. There was a quiet sincerity in her expression that made something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he admitted softly, his voice quieter than usual, almost vulnerable.

Rook smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of his dark hair from his face. “Then I guess I’m lucky.”

Lucanis exhaled a quiet laugh, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have a way of making me believe that, even if it’s entirely unearned.”

“Who says it’s unearned?” she countered, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re more than just what you let people see, Lucanis. I wish you could see it too.”

For a long moment, he was silent, his dark eyes searching hers as though trying to find the words he wanted to say. Finally, he cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, though his tone was filled with warmth.

She laughed softly, her smile lighting up the room. “And you’re just realizing that now?”

“No,” he admitted, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “But I think I’m finally starting to understand how much I don’t mind.”

Rook’s heart swelled, and she melted into his kiss, her hands curling gently into the fabric of his shirt. When they finally broke apart, she rested her head against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re stuck with me now,” she teased lightly, her voice muffled against him.

“Stuck,” he repeated, his voice full of quiet amusement. “If this is being stuck, cara mia, I’m not sure I ever want to be free.”

Her smile widened, and she tightened her arms around him as a content sigh escaped her. The fire crackled softly in the background, and Lucanis pressed another kiss to her hair, holding her as though the world outside no longer mattered.

And as the night stretched on, the silence between them was filled with something deeper than words—an unspoken promise of a future neither of them could have imagined before finding each other.

————————————————————————

Eat up Lucanis lovers 🤍

I haven’t romanced him yet! Just Taash and Davrin!

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragonage inquisition #dragonage veilguard #veilguard spoilers #lucanis x reader #datv lucanis #lucanis x rook #rook x lucanis #da4 lucanis #dragon age lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #crow rook #antivan crows #teeth rotting fluff #fluff

113 notes · View notes

furiousgoldfish · 2 days ago

Text

I've noticed the other day how life is fundamentally different when living out of abuse. I had an experience of waking up in the morning, sleepily tapping over to the kitchen in my pajamas, wondering what to make for breakfast, and making a plan for the day. Completely careless and unselfconscious, thinking only about the food and what I wanted to do with my day. It hit me then how impossible every aspect of this would be, had I still been living in the abuse.

If I was still around abusers, my first thought in the morning would not be 'oh I'm so sleepy I'm gonna find something to eat', it would be 'Are they in the house, are they in the room, are they already mad at me'. I would be looking around cautiously, listening for every sound that indicates they're near me. I would be checking the clock to see if their schedule had already put them in their workplace or wherever they go, and then still peering trough the doors anxiously to see if the hallway is clear, if I can get to the kitchen. I'd be checking how I look to see if I'll be reprimanded for being in the pajamas in the common area. I'd change just to avoid the possibility. I'd be checking each item of food and wondering if it's okay to take it, or whether there's a chance I'll get yelled at or blamed for taking it. I'd be analyzing the last words and actions we exchanged to try to predict how close the abuser is from blowing up and possibly attacking me.

The rest of my day would be scheduled around avoiding them, or alternatively, being in the place where they could easily find me, because if I'm not where I'm expected to be, they might get mad. All of my activities could be stopped and prevented at moment's notice if they decided I need to be doing something for them at that moment. I could be yelled at for not doing something for them sooner, for 'making them say it'.

If I wanted to go out, I'd have to consider if this is allowed, and if they'd want me to stay inside for one reason or another. If I am outside, I'd have to worry about what's going to happen to my stuff if I'm not back whenever they're expecting me to be there, or what kind of angry state I'd find them in. It would be safest to notify them of everything I'm doing, but they might immediately call it unnecessary, stupid, offensive or otherwise inconvenient, and force me to drop it and do something for them instead. Secrecy was the only way to do things, but also risky in case some part of it turns out to be not allowed. There were never any clear rules to what is okay, it would change with their moods.

If I could hear the abuser's car parking in the driveway, I would run back inside of my room, as if it was the 'safe area', when it wasn't. It would at least take me out of their view, so they wouldn't immediately think to start at me. But if they wanted to, they could just go inside of my room and charge at me then. I would just delay being the target, putting myself out of immediate sight. Of course this also meant I couldn't leave any trace of doing anything in the home, so it wouldn't be noticeable I just ran away. Everything has to look untouched.

And then when they interacted with me, I had to make sure to not show emotion on my face, to not look overly confident or happy, to not show any fear or anxiety, to not look sad or upset, to not look angry. I had to act normal, or else. I had to try and defend my own actions and interests walking a fine line of 'trying to let them know I'm upset and unhappy about this, without setting them off and causing them to blow up at me for talking back'. And I'd be told off for this too, because 'how could I complain when people have it soo much worse and I am ungrateful for having a roof over my head'. I had to do whatever was asked out of me, and restrain from even expressing it wasn't what I wanted, for the fear of losing the roof over my head.

Unbelievable I just lived like that for many years. And now I can flop in my pajamas to the kitchen, eyes half closed, make a mess, and think of nothing but food and plans for the day, not worrying for a second that someone could target me for any move I make. I still get scared easily, but nobody attacks me anymore. I can take any item of food, for it is all mine. I can decide to go out anytime, come back anytime, no consequences. I decide what is good for me to do, and nobody else gets an input. I can think of my own interests, and disgreard what anyone else in the world could want from me, because I don't exist for their convenience, and I don't have to worry about it anymore. What I lived before feels absolutely intolerable now. Even one second of that is unsurvivable.

#living in abuse #abuse vs freedom #escaping abuse #abuse recovery #abuse reference #cptsd #tw mention of abuse

93 notes · View notes

derww · 3 days ago

Text

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 1: OBSESSION/HUNTING

This time he sleeps for too long – not because he gave up and not because he was not afraid, but because his too mortal body is so exhausted that he lies in oblivion for almost a day. When he finally opens his infinitely heavy eyes, Mapicc is already here. He is a shadow melted into the corner of the house, burning gaze and still posture. He's silent. His hand clutches an axe.

The situation could have been considered ridiculous, even funny, if he hadn't been so horrified.

It's not that you can't talk to Mapicc, but talking to him is a minefield: he can hear, but he doesn't want to listen. He doesn't need any apologies. He doesn't need a compromise. He needs to put an axe between Zam's eyes, and again, and again, until the weak body gives up, peeling, crumbling, bubbling and crunching. And again. And again. And again.

He doesn't have a chance. Mapicc slowly and methodically chastises him for his weaknesses and mistakes, for his unworthiness and for his pity. He imputes him for betrayal, and Zam, really, has nothing to say, because Mapicc is right.

At this stage, the only realistic option was to give up, but what remained true about Zam was that he refused to give up. And he takes up the sword and collects a parody of a battle kit from his remains, and everything falls apart in an instant. Mapicc attacks once, twice, thrice, and very soon Zam is cornered, and Mapicc mauls him, hitting again and again, even when he stops moving, letting the splashing blood stain himself and everything around him, breaking bones and severing arteries and tearing muscles and splitting his belly open. There is not even sadism in this, there is no joy and pleasure – Mapicc is silent, keeping an unperturbed expression on his face, and just hits, and hits, and hits, and hits.

At some point, Zam starts screaming. At some point, he stops. At some point, when there seems to be nothing working left in his inhuman body, he finally dies. It's excruciating. It's a relief.

This time he wakes up instantly. His whole body is giving off phantom pains. There is inky darkness outside the window, simultaneously frightening and sheltering. He sits down on the bed, breathing heavily, and clutches his head.

To come up with. He needs to come up with something. Solution. The way out of this.

***

The castle is as beautiful as ever: only completed, solidly built, and cleaned. Brand new brewing setup, clean bed, fresh dandelions on the windowsill. The quiet idyll of a man who has run from problems, but he sees blood stains here and there – when you refuse to leave space, there are only so many places to die.

He fought Mapicc every new time. Prepared and not, sooner or later, but this is how it all was ending: Mapicc wins. Mapicc kills him. It starts all over again. No matter what he did, it was useless: nothing could equal their skill difference. He could have been prepared as much as he wanted – once he spent all his remaining time on grinding a full battle kit, and the other time – on mining the area around the castle, and in the end everything turned out to be useless anyway. Mapicc went ahead, took the blows as if they were worthless, threw venomous words and hit, and hit, and hit. This was not a battle that Zam could win. He tried, and tried, and tried – even after he realized that he was stuck in a time loop, he died over and over again, but he only had more splashes of phantom pain on his body. A couple of times he calls people for help, but they always die before him, and he stops.

It's an endless loop. He gets up, he prepares, he fights, he dies. Even if something changes, the outcome remains the same. Mapicc still looks at him terrifyingly, and his axe still easily crumbles the ridge. And then Zam wakes up choking on blood.

This is the first time he decides to run away.

And: don't get me wrong, he loves this place, truly loves and appreciates it. But even his pride is worthless if everything stays as it is. And he says to himself: I'll let him destroy the Sanctuary. That doesn't mean I'm giving up.

It's terrible, it's monstrous, it will break his heart, but if time continues to flow on, then he can – he can do at least something. Restore it. Turn it into a memorial. Anything.

He hides all his pets a hundred blocks away from the castle. He takes the horn from Walter's grave. He prepares – to the best of his ability. And when his time runs out, when Mapicc will soon find this place even with the turned-off beacon, he runs.

It's almost absurdly easy – almost the entire vast world is in front of him, and he gets lost in endless forests thousands of blocks from the Sanctuary, mourning his fate, but promising that he will do... Something. He stays away from known places, spending long hours alone and never ceasing to think about what he left behind.

And then Mapicc finds him.

Mapicc is a furious hellhound, blinded by the chase. This time he doesn't give him time – he rushes at him, barely preserving his humanity, and hits, hits, hits. Zam, of course, defends himself, but he is scared, he is terrified, he – how could this happen, he thinks in despair, realizing that he sacrificed the most important place for nothing. Mapicc is so out of his mind that he doesn't say a word. And then Zam wakes up.

He does a lot of things: he fights, he hides, he runs. In the end, he betrays all his principles, because they are worthless in a frozen world, but nothing ever justifies his hopes. Mapicc finds him even at the edge of the world, and the longer the chase, the worse he gets. Sometimes Zam remembers the second season. Was he like that then, he thinks, and starts to feel sick.

He hates it, but mostly he's scared. His ex-partner became his worst nightmare. He killed Zam so many times that he stopped counting long ago. He dragged his corpse all over the server and smeared the entire Sanctuary, a place of peace and tranquility, in blood. Zam had no hope, but he couldn't afford to give up. He never gives up, and maybe he couldn't.

The pain does not go away, and at one point, after a particularly crushing blow, which eventually hit right on his wrists, his hands begin to shake. He manages to suppress it – one cycle, another, third, fifth, tenth, but one day it becomes unstoppable.

– Look at you, – Mapicc says with disgust, – how far have you fallen.

He puts him down. Zam barely resists. For him, this is the closest thing possible to giving up.

He sleeps late, and every joint in his body responds with excruciating pain. He gets up, makes himself a cup of coffee, and drinks it. He writes goodbyes to those he values – even if they are erased the next day, something in this makes it better. he braids his hair and plays with Friend. When Mapicc bursts into the castle, bringing snow and wind from the outside, he does not even flinch.

– I miss you, – he says almost softly. He didn't give up. He didn't give up. He didn't give up. He didn't give up.

Talking doesn't solve anything, and he knows it from the very beginning. Mapicc answers him, but he is still bitter, and when he asks if Zam is ready to accept death for the betrayal, he agrees. This death, at least, comes quickly.

He wakes up and looks at the window, behind which a blizzard is sweeping. He notices that the dandelions on the windowsill seem to have wilted.

#cw gore #cw temporary death #cw violence #d.fics #devotion duo #mapicc #princezam #lsdevotionweek

66 notes · View notes

glossdebut · 3 days ago

Text

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 2 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: ask and you shall receive! i still don't have a set drop date for this chapter, but i wanted to post this short teaser for y'all anyway since you've been waiting so patiently. i am so thankful for all of the love i'm getting for this series already!!! chapter one is almost at 500 notes which is SO insane. i get so stupidly giddy every time i receive a reply, reblog, or an ask about this series! feedback and interaction keep me writing and i am so looking forward to what all of you think of this teaser. reminder that you can track the tag 'glossdebut updates' to stay updated on drop dates/word counts/etc.!

P.S. just like with all of my teasers, wording is subject to change when the chapter actually comes out <3

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 481 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents.

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

@yoongiphoria @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @this-most-assuredly-counts @sugafun @binniesbabe

@1800lxcifrrr @whoa-jo @amarawayne @kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @angellekookie

@jalexad @tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @notsevenwithyou

55 notes · View notes

asrielinfected · 2 days ago

Text

Too Much to Drink, Pt 2

Part one

Paring: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: You woken up to messages related to the party you went to last night. Also along with the weird encounter you had with Tara Carpenter.

Warning: Profanity

Words counted: 900+

You knew damn well you’ll have to talk to Tara about your interaction yesterday at the party.

You had two choices.

Either have a long deep conversation with Tara about yesterday, or act completely oblivious about what happened yesterday, and blame it on you being drunk.

You obviously didn’t want to confess your feelings, and have a long awkward talk with Tara so you decided to go with the second option.

You hesitated before texting her.

“Morning Tar, talk about what?”

Less than 15 second Y/N already got a reply back.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Come to my apartment in 10 minutes.”

Well now you’re really screwed. 10 minutes isn’t even enough for you to take a shower, brush your teeth, and get dressed!

So you groaned as you got off your bed. You grabbed your keys, and put on your shoes as you leave your apartment.

You leave your apartment building, still in your clothes from yesterday since you never got the chance to change.

It was about a five minute drive to Tara’s.

When you came into Tara’s apartment you were met with Samantha Carpenter staring at you intimidatingly.

Tara’s sister didn’t really trust you since she is really overprotective over her younger sister.

You aren’t Woodsboro and met Tara and the rest of your friends in Blackmore University.

The awkward silence was broken when Tara came out, “Y/N. finally you’re here. Come.”

“Dont forget to leave the door open,” Sam said, her eyes still not leaving you until you, and Tara left to go to her room.

As you left to go to the younger Carpenter’s room you sat at the edge of her bed as Tara continued to stand up.

“Y/N. I know you were drunk and I was too, but I need you to explain in detail what you did last night,” The Carpenter sighed and looked at you waiting for your response.

You nervously turned away from her. As you opened your mouth just to lie.

“All I remember was having too many drinks and passing out on a couch. Why is this even important, Tar?”

“Why can’t you just fes up, Y/N. When you lie you always look away from the person you’re lying to. You’re also responsible when drinking, so what the hell is going on!?”

Now you really do have no choice.

You started to get angry at the fact that there was no way out of it. I mean it wasn’t like it was your fault you had feelings for her!

“You want the fucking truth!? I’m in love with you Tara. And it fucking hurts like hell. So obviously when I saw you kissing another guy at the party I got jealous!”

You took a deep breath and calmed yourself down.

“After that, I went to drink some alcohol to drown the burning feeling of seeing you kiss someone else. And at some point I think I may had kissed you. But everything goes black after that point,” You confessed

Tara stayed silent. Looking everywhere but your face.

You started to get irritated again, because Tara made you come to her apartment, as quickly as possible, but yet had nothing to say.

“This was a waste of my fucking time. I’m going back to my apartment.”

You got off of Tara Carpenter’s bed and started to head to leave her room, but you were stopped by a hand that was holding yours so you couldn’t leave yet.

“Y/N, I kissed you back yesterday.”

Now that you remember clearly. She did reciprocate the kiss you guys shared last night.

You were really drunk. You happened to forget a lot of things that occurred last night

You turned around and faced Tara.

“I have feelings for you too, Y/N. I was the reason you were force to come yesterday. I wanted to find a guy to flirt with to make you jealous. And now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t the greatest idea,”

Tara Carpenter snickers

“But when I saw you were talking about some shit with Chad, I kissed the dude I was flirting with. And you already know the rest of what happened at the party.”

“Then why would you even ask me what happened yesterday if you already knew? Also you can’t just play with my feelings like that. But I am honestly overfilled with joy right now, but-”

Tara cut you off and grabbed your chin, “Y/N be quiet,”

Tara then kissed you again. Even though the kiss didn’t last long you still enjoyed every moment of it.

Until her sister came in. You could already tell she heard everything.

And you didn’t hesitate to leave quickly, because you weren’t going to stick around for you or Tara to be yelled at by Sam.

When you finally got home you took your shoes off and relaxed in your bed for a moment until you got a message from Tara.

“I just got lectured by Sam for 30 minutes. Worth it though.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter when you read the message.

Y/N: “Deserved”

Tara: “Fuck off”

Y/N: I love you though”

Tara: Love you too, asshole”

Author’s note: Guys I got a little lazy at the end of the story, sorry🥲

#jenna ortega #wlw #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #reader insert #scream #scream 6 #kisses #texting #profanity

54 notes · View notes

cryptic--writing · 2 days ago

Note

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him.

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this. Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home.

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life.

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer.

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home.

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of.

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked, still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again.

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath.

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.”

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months.

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right?

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had.

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do.

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said.

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said.

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?”

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,”

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?”

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites.

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up.

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office.

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers.

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late?

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin.

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made.

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it.

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor.

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

#metallica fanfiction #j4h7 #metallica smut #metallica x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x you #James hetfeild x reader]#James hetfield #metallica #Metallica fanfic #this is so long #I love you annon #James hetfeild fanfic #megadeth #metal #Metallica x you

49 notes · View notes

quinnynation · 2 days ago

Note

Sam dating hcs PUH-LEASEEEEE

dating sam golbach ᯓᡣ𐭩 headcannons

pairing : boyfriend!sam golbach x girlfriend!reader [no smut]

divider credit : pics from pinterest, purple divider from @strangergraphics

🔮 long car rides, gentle touches and shy blushes

👻 lowkey i feel like you had to make the first move

💜 either that or you two joked about being together so much until one day sam woke up at 3 am like "....i don't think i'm joking anymore😃"

🦴 either way colby has been rooting for y'all since day one

🔮 literally like, "I'M IN LOVE WITH Y/N...THERE...I SAID IT!" "...really? wow i never would've...gosh that's a...shocker..."

👻 melts into a puddle everytime you play with his hair

💜 literally the easiest way to get him to stop editing and come cuddle is to just start playing with his hair

🦴 invites you to run with him everytime, just in case you change your mind

🔮 once he started dating you he got a lot more serious about not bringing home spirits

👻 stays up late talking about the paranormal/life as we know it

💜 if he's lucky he won't pull himself into a extensional spiral

🦴 if he's not lucky, that's okay too bc he knows he'll still have you <3

a/n : green eggs and....sam

#sam golbach #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach x you #sam golbach imagine #sam and colby #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby brock x y/n #colby brock imagine #sam and colby x reader #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

thefaithfulnightwriter · 15 hours ago

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐀 ~ Chapter One

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the High Lord of Night Court Rhysand and Y/n meet during cruel dark times. During Amarantha's ruling over Prythian. Finding each other during such a time the two secretly fall deeply in love with one another. Both having a rare bond tethering them together... a mating bond. A bond that they both cherished and held close to their hearts. Though they loved each other dearly there was something that was missing. A missing piece they could feel deep within. It caused the two to grow a longing feeling within. It didn't deter their love for one another. But they just knew there was a blank space in their bond. After so long the two mates finally find the missing piece... another mate.

Pairing - Rhysand x Female!Reader x Feyre Archeron

Universe - pre acotar - acowar [it may go into an au after acowar not sure yet though]

Warnings - Gore, Death, Blood, Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut or Smut NOT Sure Yet, Violence, Language, Abuse, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of SA and SH (but nothing descriptive), War, Things Will Be Changed Sort Of, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Poly. Relationship MxFxM, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Shaking her head she found herself able to wake up. A groan escaped her lips at the pain in her head and the pain that traveled all over her body. But then a whimper escaped her soon after. Opening her eyes slightly she was met with the ground beneath her moving slowly. Her vision was still blurry. She then felt two strong grips on her arms holding her up. Along with cuffs around her wrists and a collar around her neck all connected to chains. She then realized that she was being dragged somewhere. Feeling the ground scraping against her legs.

Opening and closing her eyes rapidly she tried to clear her vision. Once cleared another whimper escaped her as she tried to get away from the two holding her. But it was no use because she was too weak. But a cry escaped her when she felt someone suddenly yank at the metal collar around her neck. Causing her to gasp and cough. It seemed there was someone behind her.

“You better stop. You know Amarantha won’t want a possible new pet to be banged up too much by us. We already did enough when catching her. She’d want to do the rest herself.”

She heard one of the males dragging her say. After he spoke they were all soon laughing at his words. She was now confused and terrified. But hearing the name Amarantha she realized where she might be now… Under the Mountain. A place she dreaded and wanted nothing to do with.

She remembered being in the Spring Court with her family. All of them were getting ready to leave the Court together. Seeing that the Spring Court was being watched more closely than the others by the new cruel ruler of Prythian… Amarantha. Her ruling having been for ten years now. They wanted to get away from the constant searching and persistent eyes. They wanted to stay safe and keep hidden.

They had to stay hidden… well more so herself then anyone. Her family wanted to keep her hidden and out of the public's eye. Being she was something or someone very rare. Someone very rare that hasn’t been seen in many centuries. Something rare but also powerful. And it seemed the people knew as well now. As they dragged her through the dark halls and to a room.

Now closing her eyes, she began to think about it. She could remember what had happened. She was playing with her younger brother Evrin in the forest behind their cottage when her mother and father came running. They had heard that people were coming to take her to Amarantha herself. They wanted to run. But it was too late. Their cottage was raided not long after. Which led her and her father to fight. While her mother and brother ran to hide. As they fought they almost killed her father but she was able to hide him away from them before they could. But as she did at that moment she was captured.

She just hoped that her family were together and safe. Her mother, father, and younger brother. She knew they most likely would be at their meeting point. A meeting point on the edge of Spring Court leading into Summer Court. But it broke her heart just thinking of it. That she wouldn’t be meeting them. Because she was in the hands of Amarantha now.

It caused tears to fall down her cheeks knowing that she was in her hands. She knew how cruel she could be having heard of her through the whispers in the winds. She could hear the cries and prayers to the Mother at times. Then hearing of her from the people in the Spring Court, hearing the rumors and stories. She was scared. No, she was terrified.

She had soon jumped hearing the loud opening of the large doors leading into a vast room. There were many people in the room. As she looked around with tears in her eyes. She saw many with smirks and grins with their gazes on her. But as she looked to the throne in the room there she sat… Amarantha.

Seeing her causes her to shake in fear. She was quick to look at the ground. Not wanting to meet her eyes. But a yelp escaped her when she was thrown roughly onto the floor at her feet. Her chains clicked on the ground. Which caused many to laugh at her pain. On shaking hands she forced herself to sit up.

But she didn’t care about their laughter. At that moment she was too scared. She didn’t look up; she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. Too scared to look up. It was then she heard everyone quiet and then movement. The clicking of heels moved closer to her. It was then she saw black heels come into her view.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

She heard a female speak. She knew that it was Amarantha. She just knew it was her. It caused a whimper to escape her lips as she kept her eyes on the floor. But soon she felt fingers tangle their way into her long hair and then a yelp escaped her. As her head was forced back.

“So, tell me little fairy what is your name?” Amarantha questioned her with a grin. As she ran her fingers from her hair down to her cheek. Then up to her longer than average fae ear that was pointed. A gasp left her lips hearing Amarantha call her ‘little fairy’. This meant she probably knew what and who she was and that scared her even more.

But she kept her mouth shut not wanting to give her name. Which Amarantha didn’t like. She was then grabbing her sensitive ear and pulling harshly. Causing her to cry out. But she didn’t speak her name. Leading Amarantha to raise her hand and slap her harshly against her cheek. So hard she fell to the floor with a sob. It led many to laugh.

“Oh shut up! Now I am only going to ask this once more. And if you don’t answer me I’m going to cut off one of those cute ears you have. So, what is your name?” Amarantha threatened before asking again. Reaching a hand out she was quickly given a sharp dagger. Sitting up again she didn’t know if she should tell her name. She was contemplating if she should. But she seemed to have taken too long because Amarantha was kneeling again. She then had a harsh grip on her ear and began to drag the sharp pointed dagger harshly on her ear.

“Y/n! I - It’s Y/n,” She cried out in pain, her ear now bleeding. She knew it would leave a scar. Amarantha was then letting her ear go and grinned, satisfied with the answer. She still had her eyes on Y/n. Who still had yet to meet her eyes. She didn’t seem to care because her eyes were focused on Y/n. She then muttered, ‘hmmm I wonder’ to herself.

She was then grabbing her cream colored dress and was soon cutting the back of it. A cry was heard from Y/n as she tried to get away. She didn’t want her to see. She had to keep them hidden. But before she could crawl away she was grabbed by the chain on her collar around her neck and pulled closer to Amarantha. Who continued to cut and rip at the back of her dress. As she did, markings were soon revealed and seen. Black lines and curves were marked on her back and the back of her arms. They seemed to be the markings of wings.

“There they are. I guess they were right. A little spy told me that you are a rare powerful creature. A very rare elemental fairy,” Amarantha laughed. But many gasps were heard from the crowd who were looking at her. Seeing the markings on her back. She didn’t know what to do besides trying to hold the front of her dress up.

Trying to keep herself covered. And holding her bleeding ear. As many more tears fell down her soft cheeks. She was supposed to keep what she was a secret. She was supposed to be a secret… but not anymore. Everyone now knew and many more would know. But a whimper escaped her lips at what Amarantha said next.

“But now you're my new pet,” Amarantha taunted with a grin. She chuckled as she grabbed the front of the collar around Y/n’s neck pulling her closer. She tried to pull away again not wanting to be anywhere near her. But it was no use. She wished she could be anywhere else. But she knew she wasn’t going to get what she wished for.

“Get her cleaned up and take her to my guest chambers. Oh and don’t try anything with that magic you have little fairy. Those cuffs and that collar will stop it and it will backfire. You will only be able to use them if I see fit and if I give you permission,” Amarantha demanded as she stood up pushing her away. But still with a grin upon her lips. Soon a guard was walking forward and grabbing her arm and dragged her away once again. As someone a female followed after them. A sob escaped Y/n as he dragged her away.

But there were a pair of violet eyes on her never leaving her. Having felt a pull towards her like no other. Which they knew and understood what it was instantly. They were trying to hide their pain, awe, and shock behind a mask. Trying to hold themselves together and hold back from running to her. Wanting to have her in their arms and to take her far away from this place. But they knew they couldn’t. It took everything in them to keep their emotions in check and hidden to keep their mask in place. Because they just realize they may have found their mate.

Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court just realized he just may have found his mate. And he couldn’t do anything to take her away from this horrible place and that broke his heart.

°˖✧✿✧˖°★°˖✧✿✧˖°

It had been a few days now and she was stuck in a room, a sobbing mess. After a night with Amarantha doing anything she wanted with her. But just thinking about what had happened caused her to let out another sob. As she curled into herself, hugging herself tightly. She wished that she could be anywhere else and that she didn’t have to go through such things. But it had already happened and there was nothing she could do. And she knew it would happen again and it pained her.

She soon saw flashes of moments of what happened. Feeling Amarantha’s hands on her and more. Seeing the marks she had left on her skin. She was then sitting up quickly. She then started pulling harshly at the cuffs that were still on her and the collar.

She remembers trying to use her magic while Amarantha touched her. But all it did was inflict pain on herself and made Amarantha laugh at her attempts. Before she threatened to search for her family and end them if she didn’t stop. Which led her to stop fighting and to let her do as she pleased and did as she was told. Not wanting anything to happen to her family. She would make sure nothing happened to them.

Another cry escaped her lips as she made an attempt to use her magic. But all it did was inflict pain on herself. Right now it took to burning her skin. Crying at the pain and memories. She didn’t know what to do besides keep pulling at the cuffs. As she kept using her magic not caring if it hurt her. Not caring if it left marks on her skin. She didn’t care. She just wanted them off and to be somewhere else. She wanted to be with her family. She didn’t want any of this. And at that moment she was so lost that she didn’t realize that someone had entered the room. Opening the door quietly sneaking into the room. But seeing her they were quick to move to her.

She jumped when strong large hands came into view and grabbed hers. Careful of the cuffs on her wrists digging into her now damaged skin. Making sure not to touch them. But quickly stopping her from pulling at the cuffs on her wrists and from using her magic. A cry escaped her once again as she tried to pull away. But they kept a gentle but firm grip on her. As she looked at the one who stopped her she gasped just as they did.

Her eyes clashed with violet ones.

Both looked perplexed at each other. Because as soon as their eyes met unexpectedly a golden bond formed slightly stronger between the two. That was now noticeable to the two. A rare bond that they could feel in their chest… a mating bond. But looking at him taking him in, she knew who he was instantly.

He was Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court. He was truly handsome. The stories and rumors didn’t do him justice. But as she looked at him he looked at her with awe. Yes, he knew she was probably his mate a few days ago. But now he knew it for sure… she was his mate. And he couldn’t help but look at her in awe. He couldn’t believe he really found her.

Y/n though was stuck in thought. Having remembered hearing the rumors about him. And she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t even know what to say. She was frozen with her gaze on him. He was her mate. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know if she wanted to wrap her arms around him or pull away. But she soon shook her shocked state away when he let her go gently. Not wanting to overwhelm her anymore than what she already was. He didn’t want to do that to her.

“Sorry. You were… hurting yourself. I - you shouldn’t do that,” Rhysand said after clearing his throat. After stumbling over his words slightly. His eyes still on her taking her in. She was gorgeous. But taking in her state and the scent lingering in the room he knew what had happened. He knew what Amarantha had done to her, his mate.

It led him to clench his jaw in anger. It was such a strong emotion that washed over him. Which caused her to flinch feeling such a thing through their new bond that they shared together. But she shook it off seeing Rhysand send her a small smile that said ‘sorry’. She after a moment couldn’t help but look at him and say it. Still in a state of shock that he was her mate. She couldn’t help but voice it.

“You’re m - my mate,” she whispered, afraid to say it louder. More so stating a fact then asking. Not taking her eyes off of him. She couldn’t believe she had just found her mate. Nor could she believe that he was the High Lord of Night Court. And now as she looked at him he didn’t seem like the one from the rumors she had heard from people. He seemed kind, vulnerable even as he looked at her. But she soon remembered what the winds had whispered to her about him. She watched as a small smile washed over Rhysand hearing her say such a thing.

“Yes I am. But can you come with me, my flower? If you want,” Rhysand cooed. Reaching out a hand for her to take. Waiting for her to reach and take his hand in hers. Giving her the choice to come with him. Looking from him to his hand she was hesitant. But after a few seconds she shakingly grabbed it. She didn’t know where he was taking her. But part of her wanted to follow him, her mate. She thought he wouldn’t hurt her right. So she did follow after him. As she kept a close watch on the bond they shared. Taking notice of slight emotions flowing to her from him. Shakingly she began to crawl her way out of the bed.

As she got off the bed she almost fell but Rhysand was quick to catch her by her waist. Keeping the blanket in place that covered her bare body. Sending her a smile before removing his hands from her waist but kept a hold of her hand. He then began leading her to a door that led to a bathroom.

When they entered the room, Rhysand moved her to stand near the sink. As she stood she watched him move so gracefully and with purpose. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. She watched as he filled the large tub with warm water then added oils and what not. And after he was done she then watched as he held out a hand for her. Looking at his hand she took it again. He then moved her to the tub and took a step back.

“I will be out in the room if you need me. So we can talk when you are done. Take as long as you need. I will wait,” Rhysand informed her, about to leave the room wanting to give her privacy. But before he could turn and leave she stopped him. Keeping a firm grip on his hand. Leading him to look at her with a slight tilt of his head with curiosity. It was then he saw she now had a fearful look upon her face as she looked up at him.

“You’ll actually stay right? You promise,” she asked softly but with a shaky voice. As she kept her gaze on him, her eyes never leaving his. She didn’t want him to leave her. Not after she just found out that he was her mate. She didn’t know exactly how she felt about it. But she just didn’t want to lose him so soon. A part of her wanted him close and near. She just wanted her mate. Seeing her look at him in such a way caused him to send her a small meaningful smile.

“I promise I won’t leave you. There are things we need to discuss. Plus I just found you… I’m not leaving your side unless I need or have to,” Rhysand soothed. Bringing her hand closer to him he pulled her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon it. Careful of the cuff still around her wrist that no longer had chains connected to them as they did when she first came. As he did such a gesture he sent reassurance to her through the bond. Which led her to sigh in relief.

Nodding, she watched as he released her hand gently and left the room. Giving her privacy as he closed the door gently behind him. Sighing again she turned to the warm steaming bath. Taking in the scent and bath caused a small smile to wash over her. Thinking he did such a thing for her. She shook it away and allowed the blanket to drop and stepped into the bath.

As she sat and started to clean herself. She began to think about her mate… Rhysand. Many thoughts came to her mind. Remembering what she had heard from the winds about him. Then hearing the rumors that fae said about him. A sigh escaped her lips not knowing what to think of him. But then a thought came to her mind causing her to freeze.

Would he even truly accept her as his mate or reject her? Thinking it caused a soft gasp to escape her lips. Before worry filled her. Would she survive such a thing… rejection? Would she survive him not wanting her as his mate? Taking a deep breath she soon released a tired breath. Before hugging her legs to her chest and leaning her head on her knees. Closing her eyes she took deep breaths trying to keep her tears at bay. Then another thought came to her mind.

How were they even going to go about this bond in such a place if they were to accept each other as mates? If they did they would most likely have to keep it hidden. And soon many more things came to her mind. Hitting her like a crashing wave in the ocean almost drowning her in the depths of dark waters.

Many bad and horrifying thoughts washed over her mind. But she was quick to try and shake her head. She tried to calm herself but found it hard. That is until she felt reassurance flow to her. Starting from her chest and flowing throughout her body. She knew it must have been Rhysand through the bond she has yet to really fully grasp. She couldn’t help the small smile that now washed over her. It caused her to sigh again before she started to wash herself once again.

In that moment she stopped her motions as she remembered one of the things her mother always says to her.

“Take one step at a time. Take it minute by minute, day by day. We have long lives ahead of us. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time with certain things. So there’s no need to worry so much all at once.”

She remembered her mother saying to her once. And repeating such a thing on more than one occasion. It caused her to smile thinking of her mother. It felt like forever since she last saw her mother. She just hopes that her family is safe after everything. She then shook the thought away trying not to overthink about them. Not wanting to sink into such worry and thoughts.

After she was done washing she soon made her way out of the bath. Grabbing the towel that was already out. Drying herself off, she looked at the mirror to find herself staring back at her. Her eyes didn’t have their usual bright glow. Her skin was paler without having a certain glow. Her body was littered with marks and scratches. Then there were the collar and cuffs on her that were very noticeable. She could see the red marks that were under them.

But she was quick to turn and move her long hair over her shoulder to look at her back and arms. The black lines and curves and marks were still there and intact… her wings. They were still there. But there were a few marks causing her to sigh. Her back was and always would be sensitive along with her long pointed ears. Which led her to reach to her ear that now had a long scar on it. She didn’t like it but she would have to live with it. She would have to live with everything causing her to sigh in defeat.

Shaking her head of such thoughts. She soon tightened her grip on her towel around her frame. Looking at the sink she found a dress neatly folded with undergarments. She wondered when they appeared but didn’t think much of it. Knowing Rhysand must have used his magic to make them appear for her. It made a light blush appear over her cheeks thinking of it, about him.

But she didn’t linger on the thought long. Not wanting to go down that path. Not yet anyway. Not without talking to him first. To see where they stand. Reaching out she was quick to put on the clothing and then made her way to the door. But she stopped in front of it for a moment.

Listening, she could hear the flipping of pages and the sound of a soft heartbeat that seemed to quicken sometimes. She knew who it was… Rhysand, her mate. She could feel how close he was through the bond they shared. With the mating bond they share she didn’t know what was going to happen between them. All she could do was hope that all would go well. Soon she was gathering up the little courage she had. She then took a deep breath and opened the door. So she could face what was to come with her now having a mate.

Lacuna Taglist -

ladespedidas

daughterofthemoons-stuff

#rhysand reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #thefaithfulnightwriter #rhysand x you #feyre x oc #feyre x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #feysand x oc #feysand x reader

30 notes · View notes