#the aur do not have mouths

[getvalentined]

The result of that flash poll I did the other day, Riv wound up winning so here he is!

Random OC lore below for anyone interested.

Riv is the oldest of the aur, a species unintentionally formed from the energetic aftershocks of the creation of his planet. Because there was only so much of that energy to go around, there are a limited number of "souls" available for their species, and thus the aur have a static population. Although functionally immortal, they do lose neuroelasticity over time, which eventually makes living pretty unpleasant, so they inevitably opt to pass away and allow a new member of the species to be born.

Several thousand years ago, Riv contracted a particularly dangerous magical condition that left him discolored—he used to be a very pale apricot color and his hair was opalescent white—and with chronic pain, but also keeps him from losing neuroelasticity, allowing him to live basically forever without experiencing the ennui that is the literal death of the rest of his species.

Travelers of other species who came across the aur in ancient times wound up essentially engaging in a millennia-long game of telephone that led to a gross misunderstanding of what they actually looked like, which is where the concept of unicorns comes from. When the aur finally went public as a species to get people to stop killing each other, everyone was very surprised to find that they look nothing like horses or deer. (Although they do have hooves, which is what led to the mistranslation that brought about that misconception in the first place.)

[aengelren]

life after seeing people start waking up and stop idolizing elitism and celebrity culture, feeding their pockets while the working class and third world countries suffer..is the human revolution near?

[stillhaventgotmydriverslicense]

love is stored in the mid biryani we ate at the cheap knock off of marine drive 5 mins from my house 2 days before your exams

[suiana]

(yandere! ghost husband x gn! reader)

In many asian cultures,

it is taught to people to not touch any offerings or money that is left on the ground.

For if you do so,

you shall be married to a dead person.

however, you chose not to heed these warnings and picked up a heavy wad of cash that was left on the sidewalk of a forest.

you picked it up, happily thinking it was just some rich guy who dropped his money while on a nature walk, that you got lucky enough to stumble upon his secret stash.

so you brought it home with you, thinking of all the wonderful things you'd buy with this newfound money you got.

unfortunately, that was just the start of many unexplainable things that begun to happen to you.

"dude can you not close my door?! I'm trying to go on a date!"

you yell at the air, staring at your door which suddenly slammed shut. it had been a few weeks since these events had started occuring. and events as in, random paranormal events. yes, paranormal.

it all started when you found that thick wad of cash on the sidewalk of some asian country and brought it back home with you. you thought you were lucky to have stumbled upon such treasure. like, holy shit that's a few hundred thousand of dollars!

yet the second you stepped foot inside your house, chills ran down your spine and you couldn't help but feel absolutely scared to enter your home.

but you simply shrugged it off, thinking you were just overthinking and worrying over nothing. must be the scary asian ghost stories you heard.

you should've went to the exorcist the second you felt that gut instinct though.

because as the days went by, your lights started turning in and off by itself, your house would be cleaned meticulously even when it looked like a fucking dumpsite a few hours before, and more importantly, you'd start hearing voices of a man who claimed to be 'your husband'.

at first you wondered if you were schizophrenic. holy shit, were you hallucinating right now? why the hell was there this attractive voice that kept on talking to you from time to time?

but it wasn't you being schizophrenic, unfortunately.

for what you were experiencing was very much real. there was now a ghost in your house, or rather around you, that would not leave no matter how hard you tried.

and you came to live with it, until today.

why? because you were about to go on a date with this super sexy guy but then this... this ghost husband wouldn't let you!

freaking slammed the door when you tried leaving! like who even does that?!

"ugh, you're being unreasonable!"

you yell at the air, glaring angrily as you place your hands on your hips. you didn't know where this ghost husband of yours was, but you did know he was near you. i mean, the temperature drop was a clear sign that he was.

"me? unreasonable?"

ah, there he was.

you turn around to face the aur, glaring angrily as you feel your skin prickling. his voice came from behind you and he was whispering into your ear. he always likes to do that, you noticed. speaking from behind.

"yeah, you! dude i just want to get laid!"

you reply in irritation, hands on your hips as you shake your head. you wait for his reply, pursuing your lips angrily before shrieking as you feel him blow cold air against your nape.

"but you have me, don't you?"

"well I don't want you! I didn't know you'd come together with the money! and I can't even use the money..."

you mumble off, shivering slightly as you continue to glare at the air. god damn it, so much talk about being your husband and you don't even know how he looks like! heck, you can't even see him!

"I don't even know how you look like! how could you prevent me from going on a date with this sexy guy-"

in the middle of your complaint, you suddenly yelp as an attractive male, albeit a translucent one, stares right at you, an unamused face as he looks you down.

"well you can see me now."

he mumbles, arms folded across his chest as he glares back at you.

your mouth is dry, cheeks slightly pink as you stare at the man. holy moly! you have a hot husband?!

"holy cow! you're hot?"

"what's that supposed to mean?"

you stare at the male, jaw dropping before you slap your face and look him up and down. he was clad in a traditional outfit, looking expensive and absolutely drop dead gorgeous- well he's dead but... gorgeous!

"damn okay, I won't go on that date..."

you drool slightly, moving away from your door as you continue staring at your ghost husband dumbly, giggling as you walk past him onto the couch.

"of course you won't. you're already married to me."

your husband follows after you, a cold aura following him wherever he went, chilling the area. thankfully the heat in your body helped to warm you up.

"why didn't you show me your face earlier? you're so sexy..."

"well you never asked."

he shrugs before floating over to you and resting his head in your lap. his eyes look into yours, a lovesick expression in his eyes as he traces his translucent hand into your skin, making the area tingle slightly.

you stare down at him, pursing your lips before giggling stupidly and blushing. damn, you really did have a hot husband. even though he's dead, he's still your husband! you only wish he was alive... then maybe you two could get dirty and-

"you know i can still pleasure you right?"

the ghost suddenly deadpans, looking right at you as though he had read your thoughts. you blink at him, not registering his words before you suddenly choke on air and look away.

"oh, are you choking? don't die yet... i like your body heat."

your husband suddenly moves away from your lap, getting up to pat your back in a pitiful attempt to relieve you from your choking fit. all you felt while you coughed was the tingling sensation of cold hands.

"damn you can't just say stuff like that-"

"but you were thinking about it, no? i can hear your thoughts, you know."

you proceed to choke on air again, having yet another coughing fit as your ghost husband continues to pat your back with his cold ghostly hands.

"oh my god just kill me now... this is so embarrassing-"

"no, i already said i like your body heat and you can't die yet."

you immediately shut up, staring at the ghostly male with dead eyes.

before you know it, you're walking to your kitchen to grab a knife to kill youself just to spite him. but of course, you were stopped by your husband who immediately wrestles the knife away from you, smacking your head painfully hard before dragging you back to the couch where he begins to suck your warmth away like a leech.

damn him, maybe you should get an exorcist.

"you know i can hear your thoughts right? you're not getting rid of me."

damn him, you really are going to get an exorcist.

"what? darling i just said no!"

you're getting an exorcist.

[gavisfanta]

UNUSUAL SURPRISE- GAVI

summary: after gavi left the spanish camp during the world cup some people get scared, but he returns with an unusual surprise.

warnings: shittalk?, not proofread

"Where's Gavi?" Pedri looked around the table after he found the empty chair which was Gavi's place.

"I don't know, ask Lucho." Ferran answered and Pedri immediately looked to their coach.

"He'll tell you himself." Enrique shortly answered and then went back to typing something on his ipad. Something specific about the spanish coach is that every day, he eats an apple for breakfast and drinks a cup of orange juice. The boys have never seen him eat anything else before lunch.

So after Luis had told the boys that Gavi was 100% gone and he's gonna tell them himself, Pedri wanted to call him. Yet it doesn't matter how many times they tried to call him, it always went to voicemail.

Gavi's phone was turned off and nobody knew what he was doing, Ferran was afriad that he might have gotten an injury or he's sick.

"He wouldn't have left then, we have a whole medical team here!" Ansu threw his hands in the aur as he stood up and made his way over to the table where all the flod was. He grabbed an apple and then went back to sit down.

"Well, the best we can do now is wait." Pedri shrugged his shoulders and zoned out. Ferran shook his head, they were obviously worried what happened to their teammate, but Pedri was right, if Gavi wasnt picking up, they had to wait.

"Hey Sergio did you hear that Gavi left camp?" The newsreporter in the tv said. The whole Brazil squad sitting infront of it, waiting for the game to begin in 20 minutes.

"Yes I did hear, but I sadly don't know why." The other guy named Sergio answered.

"Well fans are worried for their starkid, maybe he picked up an injury, it also may be something with his family. Footballers have done this before during an international tournament." The other guy began talking but Rodrygo shook his head as he leaned closer to Vini.

"Good that that shithole is gone, hm?" Rodrygo nudged Vini's shoulder as he laughed. Both Real Madrid players looked at eachother and smiled.

"No more Wonderkid for him." Vini answered and laughed, however he soon received a hit on his shoulder. As he turned to look around he saw Raphinha sitting behind him.

"I know you dont like him but there's no need to talk about him like that." Raphinha leaned forward and ltold Vinicius. He wanted to open his mouth again but decided not to, so instead he just turned around and looked at the tv.

Not even two days later as the Spanish team was sitting at breakfast, they heard the door open. Every member of the staff was at breakfast so everyone suddenly shut up and looked at the door. To their surprise it was nobody other than Gavi himself, a wide smile spread on his face.

"Hola." He smiled and then Enrique stood up and went to hug him. While he did that he whispered into his ear: "Congratulations."

Gavi just returned the smile and looked at everyone while his coach stood besides him.

"Well, I think Gavi owes everyone an apology and an explanation to why he disappeared so suddenly." Enrique said and everyone began clapping their hands. Gavi cleared his throat, he hated talking infront of so mamy people, especially when he saw the camera running in the opposite corner, but he decided to bite through it.

"First of all, I'm sorry I disappeared so quickly and that I didn't answer any of your phone calls. But I have a perfectly fine explanation." Gavi explained in a loud tone so that everyone could hear him. "I don't know if some of you guys have noticed, that you didn't see my Girlfriend in like 6 months," He stopped for a second and most people nodded their head. "That isn't because we broke up, thank god, but I'd like you to meet someone." Gavi said and then turned around to look at the door where you walked in, a newborn baby in your arms, his eyes closed and peacefully sleeping. Everyone gasped as they saw you stand next to your boyfriend, with his child in your arms. Gavi looked at his son proudly and then put his finger up to his mouth. "He's sleeping." He said just loud enough.

Many of his teammates faces were covered in huge smiles and they just looked at the baby in your arms. You then looked at Pedri and saw him smiling while both of his hands are pressed against his cheeks, then you turned to Gavi again.

"I'll go back now, you talk to them."

"Okay, I'll go to the hospital after we're done eating." Gavi explained to you and you nodded your head. You turmed around one time to everyone and waved your head with a huge grin on your face.

Most of them waved back, they waited until the door closed until everyone jumped up and ran towards Gavi.

Gavi laughed as everyonenwent over to him and congratulated him.

"Hermano this is insane!" Pedri smiled as he shook Gavi's shoulders back and fourth.

"I know, I know." Gavi answered with a smile and hugged Pedri.

"How did you keep this a secret?" Ferran asked, everyone was still smiling, everyone was more than happy for Gavi.

"It was so hard." Gavi laughed out as he shook his head. "She didn't wanna leave the house after like 5 months of pregnancy cause she was scared someone's gonna see her." He laughed and Pedri couldn't help but smile too.

"How is she even on her feet just two days after giving birth?" Ferran asked, simply amazed by how fast you recovered.

"Bro I have no idea, I told her to stay a day more but she wanted to show him to you guys." Gavi explained further.

"What's his name?" Morata asked and looked at the midfielder.

"Can't tell you guys yet." Gavi shrugged his shoulders and then began walking backwards.

Many of his teammates told him to stay but he went outside where his dad was waiting for him together with his sister.

"How did it go?" His dad asked and patted his sons shoulder. Gavi smile couldn't have been wiped off of his face by anything.

"It went amazing," Gavi said and looked around before shifting his gaze back to his father. "Where is she?" Gavi asked after he noticed that you werent around.

"She went to the car to feed him, don't worry, she's fine." Aurora calmed her brother and he nodded his head while pulling out his phone for a second.

"The posts will go online in 4 minutes." Gavi mumbled under his breath. There were posts scheduled for his account, revealing that you gave birth to your child. Of course you and Gavi have talked about announcing it, you both thought it was the right thing to do before someone sees you two walking around with a child.

But after all of you had arrived at the hotel you were staying in, Gavi went to your room with you.

While he held his child in his arms, shaking him to sleep, he looked at you with a smile. "I'm so proud of you." Gavi mumbled, but just as you would've gotten time to respond there was a knock on the door.

"My god why is that child sleeping in your arms? Here, I'll take care of him." Gavi's mother hurried over to her son, taking her grandchild out of his arms and leaving the room. You smiled a little as you watched her close the door again.

"She's-" Gavi scoffed while shaking his head, he smiled as he walked closer to you and kissed your temple. "But I'm so proud of you amor."

"Why are you proud?" You laughed out and ran your hand along his jaw, caressing his soft skin.

"You're not normal, why are you walking around two days after the delivery. You shouldn't be on your feet, your body needs to rest." Gavi said and grabbed your hand as he walked you over to the bed.

"No, Gavi I'm fine-" You began but he cut you off before you could've finished your sentence.

"No you go back to sleep now." He mumbled and then kneeled down besides you while kissing your cheek.

"I love you" You mumbled while running your hamd through his hair.

"I love you more." He answered with a smile on his face.

[your-local-baguette]

Some hashiras with a tall reader

Warnings: maybe suggestive idk, not proofread, after the swordsmith village arc.

Giyuu tomioka

He might seem indifferent about it sometimes since he almost never shows any emotions

But when he met you he was kind of surprised, you stood next to him without your heels and were still taller

He admires that trait of yours, you even sometimes lean down from behind on his shoulder

Honestly, i think he really enjoys a tall s/o he protected his whole time as a hashira, makes him feels protected in some way

Giyuu heard your shoes hitting the ground, he recognized your walking pattern by heart, the clacking of your heels...he saw you in the corner of his eye, your taller figure tugged a slight smile on his lips. His gaze lingered on you for a little bit. "Giyuu ? Giyuuu are you there ?" He snapped out of his trance, locking gaze with yours, his head tilted up slightly. "Yea...i'm here" he said quietly, looking away

Sanemi shinaguzawa

He always grumbles when around you, like as if he was intimidated

He isn't, just finds it really hot, trying to hide his blush

He covers it up with aggression

Litterally fucking adores your height ??

Sanemi sounds like a sucker for a taller s/o

Wear heels and you've got him on his knees

He stood in front of you, his arms crossed on his chest, looking up at you with his angry face. You looked down at him, tilting your head slightly, which made him turn his gaze away. A sly smile attached to your lips "what?~ intimidated?" You said to him playfully. "No! Never, you're just really hot- i mean ugly!" You raised an eyebrow at him "aure, whatever you say shortie" you hit the top of his head playfully.

Muichiro tokito

He actually indifferent about it

Tall or short he like you a lot, because you alway come cloud gazing with him

But it does have an effect on him, he does like it

Sometimes he just looks up at you, his mouth slightly parted

Muichiro looking up at you, mouth slightly parted as his hair flows with the wind. "You look pretty" he said, his expression not changing a single bit. "Thank you mui, you're very pretty too" he tilted his head before smiling up at you "your height is very impressive you know.." "really..?" "Yes.." he felt his whole body being engulfed in a hug "thank you...i appreciate it a lot"

Obanai iguro

He was a little impressed with your height but he quickly got used to it due to gyomei existing

Obanai has a smaller figure so you really tower over him

It might seems crazy but he wasn't just impressed but intimidated too at first.

But if kaburamaru likes you, you can't be so bad, can you ?

Yea he fucking started loving you

You pinned him to a wall one day and it looked like a bear next to a bee

"what are you doing" obanai said, his voice laced with venom, he got that tough exterior but soft inside. You didn't let that discourage you and leaned your face closer to his, he froze, he hoped you couldn't hear his heartbeat. He eyed you down for a hot second. You were at least one head and a half taller than him, he felt like a little mouse but it was you so, maybe it was turning him on just a little tiny bit.

[glitterjay]

hi can you do like bodyguard sunghoon with celebrity/popstar reader where sunghoon is reader's main bodyguard and is always cold to her but he secretly likes her and one time she goes somewhere without telling him and he gets worried so when he finds her he punishes her and they confess their feelings for each other?IT doesn't have to like follow this transcript or plot i just want bodyguard sunghoon with reader 😭😭 thank you so much i love all your works and i hope you have a nice day/night

⭒ idol!reader, body guard!sunghoon, fluff

⭒ c's note: i left out the punishing part because i genuinely could not think of a way to write that bit

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @jaylaxies @americanojake

being a bodyguard in love was a difficult task for sunghoon. aure, it fulfilled his desire to protect you at all costs—it was his job, after all—but he couldn't do much beyond that.

he would follow you everywhere because he was your main bodyguard, but he had to stay outside your room, outside the private room where you were eating at a restaurant, outside your life. he was just there to guard everything inside the bubble.

this fed into his now-serious and intimidating personality, only giving you nods and short words as a way of communicating. he couldn't let his guard down, and you couldn't know about his feelings either.

little did he know that you longed for him to open up. you could see the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you, the way he was always first in line during your events, even if he wasn't needed. how carefully he treated you and how worried he'd get if you got a single scratch.

-

after today’s schedule, you agreed with your fellow idol friends to hang out and catch up. sunghoon wasn’t in his usual spot after you were done filming scenes for a music video, so you didn’t personally tell him where you were going.

you did ask some other staff to tell him for you, to which sunghoo didn't take so well. he asked the staff of other idols where you could have possibly gone, bowing several times when a makeup artist told him she overheard the group talking about going to a specific restaurant.

Hh practically ran all the way, too desperate to wait for the line of cars and vans outside the venue waiting for other artists and staff. it wasn't far anyway.

as soon as he arrived, sunghoon barged into the restaurant, presenting his identification as your personal bodyguard to gain access to the private rooms. he could hear your laughter over the other voices in the room.

he knocked once, hearing how the voices quickly hushed, and then there was another one saying, "come in!"

sunghoon peeked his head, a sigh of releave leaving his mouth when he saw you sitting there, safe. it took you by surprise to see it was hom knocking, so you excused yourself, making up a lie but promising you'd be back as quick as you could.

once outside, sunghoon began to check you for any sign of discomfort, which made you giggle a bit.

"someone's worried."

"you could've said something! my heart almost fell out of my ass when i didn't see you at the venue."

you took the silence as an opportunity to fix his messed-up hair, probably from the running.

sunghoon sighed, leaning into your touch, closing his eyes.

the view before you seemed out of the world, how the dim lights of the hallway resalted his face features, and how he leaned into your hand more and more.

"a picture lasts longer," he said, his eyes still closed.

you scoffed, taking your hand away from his cheek, causing him to stumble. you giggled.

"we can go on a date. just us two," you offered. sunghoon's eyes almost popped out of their sockets, making you giggle again. "but only if you wan-"

"of course i want!"

he cleared his throat and regained his posture, acting as if his heart hadn't done twenty flips in three seconds.

"i mean, that sounds like a great idea. yes."

© glitterjay | tumblr

[featguler]

bring salvation back ────── you calm him down after some camera flashes ruined your date night.

⌗ pairing : aurélien tchouaméni x reader ⌗ tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. pre-established relationship with aure. NOT PROOFREAD possibly very shitty. ⌗ wordcount : 849 ⌗ notes : i miss him so much it's a little crazy.... title is from i'll be there by mariah carey,,, heheheh ♡ masterlist.

Neither you nor Aurélien really enjoy having the radio on when you drive in his car. The space between you had always been filled with free-flowing conversations or the music Aurélien listens to, connecting his car to his phone via bluetooth. It’s just odd listening to music or people you don’t know, when each other’s company is perfectly perfect most times you are in his car.

Tonight, though, you decide to have the radio on.

Not that it matters at all really, especially with the voice turned down so low that you can barely hear the announcer’s voice. It’s just something to distract the two of you from the thick tension brewing in the air.

Aurélien is not speaking. Instead, he looks out the window, inhaling deeply and blowing all of the air out in one short exhale.

He did not mean to throw a fit over some fans.

You know he didn’t.

It was just a long day, after a long week, in the middle of a long month; and what was supposed to be the first proper date night the two of you had had in a while, eating in a nice, outdoor restaurant, was ruined by some fans forgetting to turn off their phone flashes.

It was lucky that you managed to drag Aurélien away from the scene just as his voice was breaking from the border of “polite, but stern” and stepping over to “downright rude and insane”.

And now you are in his car, in the restaurant’s parking lot. The engine is turned on and the AC is turned up—against his will, you hold one of his hands hostage on your lap, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Are you calm now?”

Hearing your question, Aurélien let out a breath. It was almost a scoff. Maybe it was a scoff. You don’t argue.

“No,” he murmurs, still hiding his mouth behind his hand as his elbow idles on the armrest of his side of the door.

“Come on,” you squeeze your hand around his even tighter, gently tugging it towards your lap, “Look at me, baby.”

He groans, glancing at you for a moment, and eyebrows raised. “What?”

You offer him a smile, swaying his hand on your lap, and when he catches the corner of his own lips tugging upwards, he shakes his head.

“The management’s gonna be fucking pissed,” he whines, throwing his head back against the headrest as his eyelids flutter close, focusing back on the issue at hand. “They got all that on video, too, it’s probably going viral right now. I hate everything about this.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, your smile dropping. “You’re gonna have fans backing you up, you know.”

He laughs, one eye shooting open to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Tchouméni is human too!” You lift your voice a pitch higher, reciting fake comments from fake fans possibly defending his actions. “You can’t follow him around and expect him to not get angry!”

“Stop it,” he chuckles, lifting his hand, still engulfed in yours, to press a kiss against your knuckles. “They’re technically not doing anything wrong.”

“They were taking pictures of us,” you turn on the passenger seat to look at him.

“Yeah, well, they’re fans,” he sighs, rubbing his free hand over his temples for a moment. In this moment, you can see the regret really settling deep into him—regret over lashing out at those poor people. “It’s kind of what they do, huh? Bet they were in the restaurant before we even came.”

“True fans don’t take pictures without their favourite footballer’s consent and ruin the first date night they had with their partner in a while!” Your “fan” voice comes back, drawing the sweet laugh from his throat once again.

“Babe,” he presses the back of your hand against his mouth to hide his amusement.

“Don’t think about it,” you grin. “You did nothing wrong, right? We paid for our food—we didn’t finish it, but that’s not on us!—and we even tipped the valet and the waitress.”

“Right,” he nods, smiling against the back of your hand. “Alright,” he breathes out, and you can feel his anxiety emanating from the way his breath shakes, “I just gotta worry about this… tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat, nodding your head.

He presses another kiss to your hand, sighing. “Right now, I’ll just be miserable.”

“Not miserable!” You fuss, “Just… don’t think about it.”

“I can’t,” he sinks to the driver’s seat. “I don’t wanna open my phone. You take it, ‘kay, babe? Be my manager for a day.”

“Oh, come on—” You sigh, raising your free hand. “Okay, okay, sure. But if you miss a call from whoever at Équipe de France, it’s not my—”

“Fine, fine!” He groans, looking at you with puppy eyes, and you stick out a tongue at him.

And after a while of trying to fish out some empathy from you, he gives up and brings your jaw closer to press a kiss against your lips.

And you smile against his soft hums.

[its-vannah]

Question...? | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, to the point that there's another authors note at the end. Love y'all! Enjoy!

Warnings: Arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity, use of the words "whore" and "prostitute", unhappy bethrothal, angst, fluff

Midnights Masterlist

Before arriving at Dragonstone, your sister took you aside and sat you down in your chambers, smoothing out the front of your dress as if you were still a child in need of constant care.

Taking a deep breath, she sat beside you, placing a hand on your cheek, "My Y/N..."

A small, timid smile appeared on your face. But you wouldn't meet her eyes. You couldn't. A piece of you felt betrayed by what she had done just days prior. Giving your hand away without a word.

By the way

"Before you leave for Dragonstone, there's some things I need to share with you," She explained, "Some things you may not want to hear, but should."

You nodded halfheartedly, "Yes, Aurely?"

Have to say

"The prince will expect certain things from and of you. Things you may not be prepared for."

Shaking your head, you smiled at her, laying your hand atop of hers, "Sister, mother has already been over this. The ceremony, what happens after the ceremony... How fast I need to be with child. I know."

I just may like some explanations

Releasing a shaky breath, your sister shook her head, "No, Y/N, other things. Things mother wouldn't dare share with you."

Raising a brow, your smile faltered, "Is it something bad?"

"It's not good."

You urged her to continue, "Go on."

"It's common for men to take on other women in addition to their wives. Whores, as they're called. They could be noble women, servants, commoners, even prostitutes. Even your closest friends."

Your shoulders fell, "He could be different, Aurely."

She shook her head, "Most men aren't."

"But what about Robert? He treats you well."

She laughed, "He treats his whores better."

Your eyes went wide, "I'm sorry, Aurely, I didn't know."

Fuckin' politics and gender roles

"Everyone knows, they just don't discuss it. Because it's not meant to be discussed. I wish someone had warned me before I was wed, but they didn't. So I'm telling you now. Keep your head up and mouth shut."

"You can't possibly expect me to do that."

Staring into your eyes, she gripped your shoulder, "You will. For the sake of your marriage, you will."

"It isn't much of a marriage without loyalty and trust. How am I supposed to trust my husband when he's sneaking off every night?"

"You're not."

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

Your meeting with Prince Jacaerys had gone as expected. Awkwardly.

After introducing yourselves, you took a quiet walk through the garden, the two of you talking about the weather and your families. Nothing terribly personal. Nothing a man would ask his fiance, and nothing a woman would ask hers.

Good girl, sad boy

You couldn't get a good read on him. He looked sad, but he had a level of confidence you couldn't match. He was sure of himself, and it showed.

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

That night, a ball was planned in honor of your engagement. After spending hours getting ready, your mother making sure everything was in place, the doors into the great hall opened.

Guests piled in, lord's and ladies, nobility, and knights.

Not long after, you made your entrance, a gentle smile on your face as you moved to sit beside Jacaerys at the long dining table.

She was on your mind

He nodded kindly to you, and for a split second, you thought he was coming around. But the longer the dinner went on, the more you realized that his attention wasn't on you, but the woman at the end of the table.

It was one drink after another

She was dressed in red, the color of blood, and her long dark hair cascaded down her back. She was beautiful. And whenever he caught her eye, he bowed his head and looked away, draining his glass of wine.

With some dickhead guy

Even when the two of you were supposed to be dancing, solely focused on one another, his eyes were glued to her. But she wasn't even looking his way. She was dancing with another. And when she did return his gaze, regret was plastered on her face.

There was something you were missing that had happened between the two of them, but you didn't know what. And you were hesitant to ask. But you had always been curious, and it always got the best of you.

It was only when he stopped dancing all together for a moment that he realized you had followed his gaze. And your heart broke.

Fuckin' situations, circumstances

Pulling away, you excused yourself and quickly exited the hall, ignoring the stares of the people you passed on your way out. This wasn't about them. They weren't a part of this marriage.

Making your way to your guest chambers, you hastily opened the door, closing it softly behind you. You had heard the sounds of slamming doors your whole life—you refused to stop that low.

Just barely yourself together, you could hardly breathe. Struggling to unlace your dress, you spent a few minutes unraveling the string until it hung loosely over your body.

Slipping it off, you were in the middle of untying your corset when you heard a soft tapping at your door.

Hesitant to open it, you inched towards the door, slowly twisting and pulling the handle open to peer out the door.

Standing before you was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. A look of sadness on his face as he gazed down at you through his lashes, "Lady Y/N, I've come to apologize. May I come in?

"I'm not sure that's appropriate. There'd be talk."

"We're to be wed, there'll be talk regardless."

Accepting his words, you pulled the door open, stepping to the side.

Still standing in your half fastened corset and underdress, you felt bare before him. But according to your mother and sister, he'd see you like this soon enough. So you didn't bother covering up.

"I'm sorry for my actions, my Lady. It was wrong of me to look elsewhere. My attentions should have been solely on you. And from this day on, they will."

You could tell he was sincere, but you had questions. Questions you didn't want to go unanswered.

Can I ask you a question?

"May I ask you something, Prince Jacaerys?"

He nodded, "Please, call me Jace."

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you pat the spot beside you, "Come, sit."

"I'm not sure this is appropriate."

You raised a brow, "You're already in my chambers unchaperoned, and I am hardly clothed. I think we're past the point of what is and isn't appropriate."

Accepting the truth, he sat beside you, "What would you like to know?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

He shook his head, "I can't answer that."

It's just a question

"But you can. And you will if you wish to earn my respect."

If Aurely could see you know, she'd have your head. But she wasn't here, and neither was your mother.

After a long pause, he nodded, "Yes."

"With the girl—at the ball?"

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

His head hung in defeat, "Yes."

You shook your head in response, "What's her name?"

Jace's eyes sprung open, "You don't plan on harming her, do you?"

I just may like to have a conversation

"No, Jace, I don't. I just wish to know more about you. You may never love me, and I you, but I want to know what love feels like. Even if I'll never have it."

"Her name is Sara Snow," He said, "She married into a wealthy family. I met her in the gardens of Driftmark."

"Tell me about her."

He glanced over at you, "This doesn't upset you?"

"We're past that point, Jace."

He sighed, "She was beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Her beauty. She may not have come from a high family, but she was graceful. Around others, at least. She was... Passionate. Born from fire, I used to tell her. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

"How long were you with her?"

"Three years. Whenever I had the chance to be with her, I was. I couldn't stay away. It's like she grabbed me and didn't let go. And I didn't want her to."

You nodded, "When was the last time you were with her?"

Did you realize out of time?

"A day before I found out about our betrothal. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was unloyal to you."

Miscommunications and I

So your sister had been wrong. About the physical aspect, at least. Emotionally, his heart still yearned for her.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

"How did she take it?"

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

He left out a breathy laugh, but he didn't find what he was about to say funny, "She couldn't have cared less. She was wed two days later. I hadn't known she was betrothed."

Do you wish you could still touch her?

"Do you miss her?"

And you're not sure and I don't know

"Yes. No. I think so. Yes. It hurts like hell. But I can't do anything about it. I'm betrothed, she's married. And I honor myself with being loyal."

"I'm sorry, Jacaerys," You said, returning to formalities, "I'm sorry that I'm not Sara Snow."

We had one thing going on

He shook his head, "I'm glad you're not like her."

"In what way?"

I swear that it was something

He sighed, "You're sincere about what you say. You care. And that's easily noticed. It's what will make you a good Queen."

"Thank you, my prince."

The two of you were silent for a moment, and then he turned to you, "It will take time, Y/N, but I don't think I'll harbor love for Sara forever. I think, given time, I will grow to love you not only as a wife, but as a friend. But I need your patience. I'm..."

"Healing?" You finished, finally meeting his eyes.

A sigh of relief washed over him, "My thoughts exactly."

Rising from the bed, he extended a hand to you, "Shall we return to the ball?"

You looked down at your clothes, "I'm not sure it's acceptable to go back as I am."

"I could help you, if you'd like."

"Are you sure?"

Jace picked your gown up off the floor, placing it on the side of the bed, "Certain."

Then what did you do?

He carefully laced up your corset, his fingers gliding a long the ribbons as he criss crossed them, tying it at the bottom.

Turning you to face him, he slipped your gown back over your head, pulling your arms through one at a time before smoothing it down over you.

"Beautiful."

But one thing after another

Your heart fluttered at his comment, but you calmed your nerves, reminding yourself of his words: this will take time.

A color I have searched for since

Gazing up at his brown eyes, his hands stayed at your waist for a moment

Painted all my nights

Your mother had always told you that she found a sense of comfort in deep brown eyes, and until now, you hadn't understood why. But it all made sense now. That color was everything to you from that point on. Because it was his.

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

The day of your wedding came, and although there was still a ways to go, you and Jace had come far in your friendship.

'Cause I don't remember who I was before you

Instead of seeking other friends to speak to about everyday topics, you sought out one another, eagerly filling each other in on what happened throughout your days with a smile. Now you were working on building your relationship with each other, which neither of you feared anymore.

So now, as you stood with your finger intertwined, finshing your vows, you accepted your future with Jace gladly.

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

He leaned into kiss you, and you met him halfway, softening in his embrace.

But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?

The only thing that broke you apart was the eruption of clapping from your guests, who were smiling and raising their glasses to the new couple, the future King and Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Does it feel like everything's just like second best after that meteor strike?

From that point on, you were Jace's sole focus. To him, everything else came after you and your happiness.

(I remember)

Years later, you still remembered what he told you that night.

But tonight

Under the night sky, he looked at you and, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear, smiled, saying, "I think it's happening."

"What is?" You questioned, turning to face him.

Got swept away in the gray

"I'm falling in love with you," He said, "I guess it happened faster than I had planned."

"That's the thing about love, Jace. You can't plan it."

He nodded and, with a smile, leaned into your embrace. Jace had fallen for you, and you for him. That was something that could never be taken away.

That you saw that night

After breaking away, you gazed up at him, "And Jace? I'm falling in love with you, too."

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

A/N: In so many books, movies, and shows these days, love is shown as something that happens in an instant. Often times, we expect for love to happen at the snap of a finger. But not all love is instant. In this fic, you and Jace fall for each other slowly, and are still actively falling for each other by the end. As much as I love fast love tropes, it's important to remember that sometimes, the things that take the longest wind up being the best.

Thank you all for your support in this series. It means the world to me to read your comments and see how much y'all are enjoying it. Stay safe and love y'all!

[mulletmitsuya]

Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (not everyone, also random combinations, no specific gang)

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, homophobia by a gay person (just sillies), mentions of vomit and poison, mentions of drugs

Desc: placenta, placebo, or gazebo? 🤔

Rindou: yk when you tell someone something then they believe it and it works?

Rindou: like what you're saying isn't true but cause they think it is, it works

Ran: yes

Ran: the placenta effect

Izana: here we fucking go

Smiley: you're kidding right?😁

Ran: are you going to put a Smiley face after every single thing you text?

Ran: we get it, you smile really wide 👍

Smiley: kys

Ran: so hostile and for what

Mikey: idk what the word is but it's definitely not placenta

Izana: how even?

Mitsuya: ...the placebo effect??

Ran: isn't that those huge tent things

Mitsuya: that's a gazebo

Ran: oh

Ran: same thing

Smiley: you dumb as hell

Hakkai: you'd think that big ass forhead of yours would be worth something

Hakkai: smh

Ran: and you'd think after 10 years you'd get over whatever grudge you have against me

Hakkai: you literally hit my best friend (future bf) over the head with a brick

Chifuyu: thought you could sneak that in huh

Hakkai: he could have died

Ran: but he didn't?

Ran: i was just being silly and having fun

Ran: is that such a crime🙄

Hakkai: ITS FUCKING ATTEMPTED MURDER

Rindou: so is it placebo, placenta, or gazebo?

Mitsuya: it's placebo

Kazutora: placenta's are in females stomachs for pregnancy i think

Baji: that's the uterus (i'm so fucking smart)

Chifuyu: none of those are correct

Draken: google exists also

Draken: why are you asking us

Rindou: shut up for a sec

Rindou: would the placenta effect potentially kill someone

Rindou: like if you told someone that you poisoned them and then after a while they start frothing at the mouth and shit, could they die?

Rindou: or are they being a little bitch and faking lol

Rindou: i didn't actually put the rat poison in his drink (i think)

Rindou: but it kinda seems like he's dying or smth

Mikey: what the fuck is this situation

Mikey: is this real?💀

Rindou: nah

Rindou: hypothetically

Ran: does this have to do with the ambulance being here

Rindou: nah

Rindou: can y'all just answer me

Rindou: hurry before the "poison", does it's job or whatever

Rindou: guys he's throwing up pretty violently

Rindou: there's blood

Rindou: hypothetically

Izana: who would you have "hypothetically" poisoned?😐

Rindou: bro that's not the point, sir

Izana: stop calling me sir in normal situations

Izana: we're normal now and not in a gang and i'm a normal person not a gang leader

Mochi: so we don't have to call you Izana-sama anymore?

Ran: what if it turns us on

Izana: uhm

Kakucho: fuck off

Kakucho: sorry

Ran: Kaku give it up, he's way too old for you

Rindou: so y'all just gonna let the hypothetical person die? ayt

Rindou: i'm on my way to the hospital for unrelated reasons

Kakucho: who's the hypothetical victim of the placebo

Rindou: uhhh Sanzu

Kakucho: LMAO

Kakucho: let him hypothetically die then 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Mitsuya: punch him in the stomach

Rindou: i know a lot of y'all don't like him but we're friends now and i don't want him to die also he has the best drugs so i'd rather he stay alive so that i can enjoy them recreationally

Rindou: but i'll do it anyway

Mitsuya: stfu for a sex, punching him will make him throw up, and he'll vomit most of the poison out

Rindou: oh like in the stomach?

Rindou: he's gonna be so mad at me, damn

Baji: "shut up for a sex" lmaoooooo🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Baji: and you guys say I'M diabetic💀💀

Mikey: bro what?😭

Kakucho: you mean dyslexic?

Kakucho: nvm the situation speaks for itself

Smiley: the irony of this is crazy

Draken: that got a chuckle outta me 😂

Chifuyu: why you text like a 40 year old dad💀

Ran: i never went to school but even i know that's incorrect

Hakkai: "i never went to school but even i know that's incorrect 🤓👆"

Hakkai: jump into oncoming tragic you f slur🖕

Smiley: aur naur you done made Hakkai homophobic

Ran: you need to fucking chill omg

Mitsuya: are you five years old, Baji

Baji: nah i'm 24 dumbness🤨

Baji: *dumbass

Izana: my oath for not using violence anymore might have to be on hold cause you guys are pissing me the fuck off you fucking incompetent fools useless excuses of human beings

Smiley: bro called us fools

Ran: that's a bit much, sir

Baji: bet you're typing with your left hand

Ran: uh huh <3

Rindou: get some fucking bitches, damn

Ran: where are your bitches, Rindou

Rindou: on my dick

Ran: oh you're talking about the femboys?

Ran: ohh ok i thought you weren't gay but whatever

Mikey: yo is haruchiyo alive?

Rindou: they're pumping his stomach, he'll be fine

Rindou: liking femboys isn't gay

Smiley: 🤨

Angry: 🤨

Rindou: don't act dumb because it's literally in the term 'fem'

Draken: uh, what about the 'boy' part

Rindou: don't twist my words

Rindou: how is liking something that looks like a girl, gay??

Mitsuya: bffr 😐

Rindou: y'all telling me if i fuck haruchiyo i'm gay???

Hakkai: he's a boy?

Rindou: he looks like a woman

Rindou: have you seen his body? tiny ass waist headass. y'all come to the onsen next time you'll see what i mean

Chifuyu: you're being weird rn

Ran: what about his penis, Rindou

Rindou: that's irrelevant

Rindou: besides it's barely noticeable

Draken: people like you and Koko are the fucking problem, get some therapy

Smiley: Rindou thinks fucking a guy in the ass isn't gay 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Rindou: "FEM"

Draken: BOY???? MALE??? MAN??? DICK???

Rindou: ok who's gay now, weirdo🤨

Draken: kys (kill yourself)

[ayyy-pee]

Chapter 10 - Forward Flip

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: Important conversations happen. Important decisions are made.

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Oral Sex

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aur we're coming up on the end of this storyyyy. i just wanted to thank everyone for coming along for the ride and witnessing reader's frustrating journey of growth!!!

next chapter will be the last! (probably idk i lie a lot lmao)

The sound of feet hitting the pavement rings loudly in Suguru’s ears as he rushes forward. His board slams hard against the concrete just as he hops on, kicking his foot forward, speed picking up. He’s been at this for hours, the sun now setting on the skatepark. It was full when he arrived. Now only a few stragglers hang around, everyone else calling it for the day long ago. 

He can’t sit still, though. He can’t go home yet. Not when you’re not returning his calls, his texts, his voicemails. He knows he has no room to be upset. You’ve got every reason to be ignoring him after everything he’s done.

Should he have punched Naoya in the mouth? No. Of course not. But what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stand idly by and let that asshole talk about you the way he was. He didn’t regret knocking his teeth in one bit. His only regret was what followed.

He wishes you would just talk to him. Say something, anything . An “okay” text, a thumbs up emoji. Anything at all. That’s why he’s here at the park. He can’t go back home to the silent punishment you’re giving him.

Your silence is killing Suguru. It eats away at him slowly, plants seeds of dread in the back of his mind. He’s been trying to ignore it, but there’s this strange feeling that’s been forming in the pit of his stomach since he was escorted off set. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but something about this feeling doesn’t feel good . 

Besides, it’s not like Suguru was the only one who messed up. Surely you’re as pissed with Choso as you are with him. You must be. What other reason would there be for him to also be at the park right now? Suguru’s gaze flicks over to the other side of the skatepark, to the ramp where a familiar set of pigtails sit atop someone’s head, lips set in a hard line as he stares down at his feet.

Yeah, Suguru knows that look. Pensive, confused, maybe a little pathetic. It’s probably the same look he has on his own face when he’s not completely focused on skating.

Choso’s been at the park just as long as Suguru, if not longer. Probably trying to burn off his tension the same way Suguru is right now. He assumes you’re not returning any of his messages either. And while that gives Suguru just a bit of satisfaction, it doesn’t change the fact that while you’re not speaking to Choso, you’re also not speaking to him . And it only makes that uncomfortable feeling in his gut intensify.

The wind stings, the rush whipping Suguru’s hair messily across his face. His limbs burn with every bend of his knees as he jumps, feet flipping his board beneath him just before he approaches the edge of the bowl. He ignores the discomfort, some twisted part of Suguru telling him he deserves it, that he’s earned the pain. He bends his knees again, slowing just barely before the nose of his board dips over the edge and he dives in, racing down the curve of the bowl. 

He loves this feeling. He loves the sensation of gravity pulling him down so hard it makes his stomach turn. He loves that for a brief moment he feels like he’s escaped his reality, escaped the messes he’s made outside of this concrete bowl, escaped all thoughts of you and the nagging feeling that’s been stirring in his gut since the last time he saw you. He watched you storm off, back turned as you angrily left the set. 

It’s only for a moment that he can forget, but for that moment, Suguru can finally breathe.

Then he’s up, wheels carrying him high above the bowl, high above any of the bullshit that’s waiting for him when he lands again. Up here Suguru grips the side of his board, legs stretching ahead of him as he spins twice just before gravity grabs a hold of him again, yanking him back to reality.

When he’s back on flat ground, riding his board lazily across the pavement to where his belongings are, he’s surprised to see the park is empty, except for Choso, who has now moved on to grinding across the rails. 

Suguru watches Choso curiously for a moment, studies his form and he has to give it to him. He can see why he wins any event he competes in. He can see why you were drawn to Choso, why you’d choose to photograph him. He’s damn good. 

Choso’s on his phone now, brows knitted as his fingers fly across the screen and Suguru can’t help his curiosity. He wants to know who he’s talking to. He has half a mind to cross the park and ask if he’s heard from you. But he won’t. He doubts Choso wants to talk to him of all people. Nothing good has come from them being near each other anyway.

Except for leaving Naoya Zenin with a broken nose and a few loose teeth.

The memory makes Suguru chuckle to himself as he steps off his board to grab his water bottle and phone. Uncapping the bottle, he takes a swig, glancing at his phone. He nearly chokes on the liquid, sputtering when he sees your name at the top of his notification. You’d messaged him just minutes ago.

You: I’m coming over.

Shit.

That odd feeling in Suguru’s gut surges suddenly, clawing its way up his throat and he has to physically swallow to push it back down. Your text brings up a mixture of feelings for him. He’s happy to hear from you, but the tone of your message makes him nervous. His gaze drifts back over to Choso who he can see is back to staring off into space, hands shoved into his pockets and he wonders if it really was you who he had been typing to only moments ago.

He’d be lying if the look on Choso’s face didn’t give him some sense of relief, maybe a little joy. Perhaps you’d come to your senses and finally ended things with him. Maybe you’d realized Suguru was who you should have always chosen. He lets his imagination run wild with the thought of him opening the door and you leaping into his arms, planting a kiss on his lips and telling him you’re so sorry for playing with his heart even after all this time. Even after Suguru realized how he had felt.

Suguru pictures him finally having you to himself, finally treating you how you deserve to be treated, how he should have been treating you all along. He’s the right choice for you. Always has been, always will be. Suguru stares down at your text again, a small smile curling at the corner of his lips. He can’t wait to see you, can’t wait to hear your voice again after being met with nothing but silence from you.

His eyes find Choso again, who has now resumed hitting the rails. Whatever he saw on his phone must have stressed him out even more. Doesn’t matter, though. All Suguru cares about is getting home. It won’t take him long. He’ll definitely get there before you do. And he wants to be ready for you.

Tonight, Suguru will make sure that you know how sorry he is, how much he loves you. And the night will end with you finally being his.

- - - - - - - -

Your fist lightly taps the door to Suguru’s apartment, hands trembling as you try to calm down. You’re pretty sure anxiety is seeping from your pores as you wait for Suguru to answer. When the day started, you hadn't pictured you’d end up here. You started the day sad, confused and hiding from the world beneath your blankets. 

You’ve ended it with clarity. Even if it took you weeks to get here, you got here. 

It only takes a minute before the door opens, dark eyes meeting yours, framed by damp raven strands hanging loosely around them. He looks relaxed, like he hasn’t got a care in the world. It bothers you because while he’s all calm and collected, you’re absolutely dreading the conversation ahead.

“Hey, I’m glad you came,” Suguru says, cool as ever. He steps aside so you can come in. You take in the familiar sight before you – Suguru holding his apartment door open for you, inviting you inside. Any other day, you may have easily stepped right past him, heart in your throat as you went inside and let him have his way with you. But this time feels different. You don’t miss the way your heart no longer skips a beat seeing him, how your pulse does not race in the slightest as you stand in front of him, how your body essentially has no reaction to him at all.

This is not something you’re used to, being able to just be there with Suguru and not feel your stomach twisting into knots at the sight of him. It’s a strange feeling, really. Seeing Suguru and not being completely under his spell is new, refreshing . It gives you the strength you needed to do what should have been done a long time ago.

“Hey, Suguru.” You shake your head when he gestures for you to come inside again. “That’s okay. This won’t take long.”

Suguru cocks a brow curiously, leaning against the doorframe as he folds his arms over his chest, face twisting into an expression of concern. “Did you want to talk about something?” He asks. 

“Yes.” There’s no use in dragging this out.

He purses his lips, inhaling deeply. “Okay…Can I go first, though? And will you please come inside to talk?”

His next moves are all so obvious now, all too familiar. You want to roll your eyes. You know how this will go before it begins. This is Suguru trying to take control of the conversation before you can steer it the way you intend to. He wants to try and drown out any of your doubts and worries with honeyed words and empty promises. Suguru wants to make you soft for him, wants to make you forget that you came here with a purpose. 

And if not for that dinner with Nanami and Satoru earlier tonight, you fear you may have ended up back at square one the moment you saw the man before you. You may have never opened your mind to who Suguru truly was without their guidance. 

You would have shown up, determined to get Suguru to give you what you’d always wanted from him; commitment to you and you alone, promises, him . And all you would have gotten was his arms circling your waist, a kiss to your temple, to your cheeks, to your nose and then to your lips. Sweet words that held no meaning whispered into your ear. And stupidly, you’d be putty in his hands.

That’s how things used to be.

You stare into Suguru’s pleading eyes, silently begging you to come in. He doesn’t know what all has changed for you in the last few hours. You’re confident enough to feel as though things are finally working in your favor. You are in control here, no matter the setting. 

You fold your arms across your chest. A defensive move. It almost feels like a shield meant to block the inevitable bullshit you know Suguru is about to spew. “Alright. Let’s go inside.”

The moment you step foot in Suguru’s apartment, you almost regret it. You’re a little surprised at the way the familiarity makes you…sad. The confidence you had just seconds before wavers ever so slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve been here. So many memories were made in this place, both good and bad. So many tears shed here, both from pleasure and from pain. And it’ll be likely that the last memory you have of this place will not be a good one.

Suguru immediately moves to the couch, patting the seat next to him. He’s comfortable now, in control. This is his domain, after all. He’s just waiting for you to make the wrong move before he pounces. Judging by the smirk resting on his lips, you know he thinks he’s won the battle before it’s even begun. 

And of course he feels that way. It’s the way it’s been between you two for over a year. The same routine over and over. Suguru acts like he’s giving you the opportunity to say what you need to say, to speak up for yourself, let all of your feelings out so he has time to gather his thoughts and work the situation to his advantage. He’ll say all of the sweet things you want to hear, tell you what he knows you like and then you’ll lose your resolve and fall into his arms.

Old habits are hard to break.

"Clear thinking requires courage rather than intelligence." The last thing Nanami said to you before he opened the door to let you out of his home. “Don’t feel stupid for how long you took to reach this realization. Just…do the right thing now.”

Those words echo in your mind as you take a seat next to Suguru on his couch. Nanami was right. He was right with every point he’d made, and he had made a lot of them. You settle into your seat, making sure to put a good bit of space between you. It makes Suguru furrow his brows, but he doesn’t bother to question it. He wants you to feel comfortable.

You wave your hand, motioning for Suguru to go on. “You said you wanted to go first…so…”

“Right.” Suguru clears his throat as he combs his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands from his eyes. “First off, I owe you an apology for what happened at the shoot the other day. I just–” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I just couldn’t sit there and listen to that fucker Naoya talk about you like that for a second longer. Pissed me off. I couldn’t stop myself.” He pauses briefly, eyes glued to the floor as he gathers his thoughts. “I know I had no right to be pissed about this one, but when Naoya mentioned Choso…” You swallow the lump that quickly forms in your throat at the mention of Choso, the way he looked at you the last time you’d spoken and your heart squeezes painfully. “I guess I got more upset having it thrown in my face that you’re still seeing him. I should’ve had more self control,” he continues when you don’t speak. “I ended up ruining your day. And I heard you got suspended from work?”

You nod when Suguru peers over at you, confirming his suspicions. “I did.” 

He gives you a moment, waits for you to say more. You don’t. You want to hear every sorry excuse Suguru has, every apology he owes you. You want to let Suguru get out everything he wants to say before you say what you need to. He doesn’t get to control the narrative anymore.

“Fuck,” Suguru sighs, your name falling quietly from his lips. “I’m really fucking sorry. Obviously I didn’t want that to happen.”

“I would hope not,” you chuckle dryly. Suguru perks up for a second, hearing your laugh before visibly deflating when he hears your next words. “But I guess that wouldn’t be the most fucked up thing you’ve done to me, would it?”

His brows knit together and for some reason, the confused look on his face annoys you. He reaches forward, gently taking your hand in his.

“Hey, if this is about everything else, our relationship –” You cut him off with a scoff, which he promptly ignores as he continues. “Listen, I know I’ve done some fucked up shit. I know I’ve been fucked up and as big an asshole to you as they come and I’m sorry . I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t know how many times you need me to say it to believe me, but I mean it every time I do.”

You pull your hand from his hold, lacing your fingers together in your lap and that strange feeling that’s been forming in Suguru’s belly for the last few days? Well, it’s beginning to grow, spreading rapidly and clawing its way up his throat right now. “I want to believe you, Suguru.” You tell him. Because it’s true. Against your better judgment, you do want to believe Suguru means it every time he utters an apology. Because the least he could do after all the shit he’s put your through is fucking mean it when he says he’s sorry. But you don’t believe him anymore. You don’t believe in him anymore. “You’ve apologized so often, it doesn’t mean anyth –”

“I told you I’d show you I’ve changed,” Suguru quickly interjects, moving from his spot on his couch to kneel before you on the floor. He places his hands over yours, in your lap. “I’ve been trying. I know you see it. I’ve been letting you have your space, do your thing, figure out what you want – who you want without trying to sway you one way or another! I’ve been trying to do more of that boyfriend shit that you’ve been asking for. I haven’t been with anyone since I told you how I felt.” 

He quickly rambles off his list of all the ways he’s been better for you.

And he has been better. You’ll give him that. If only he’d done it sooner. And if only he’d done it because he wanted to. Not because someone encroached on his “territory”. Who’s to say that if you ended things with Choso and went back to Suguru that he wouldn’t go back to his old ways?

Suguru stares intently into your eyes and you’re not sure if it’s panic you see behind his gaze or what, but strangely, it makes you want to laugh in his face. It’s comical, peering down at him before you, desperately trying to get you to see how good he is for you. Is this what you once looked like? Had you really been this pathetic? 

Probably.

You wish you could go back to the past and shake yourself, wake yourself up to the bullshit fed to you by the man on his knees before you. 

“The investigation has been completed and I’m going back to work in a couple weeks. Choso stuck his neck out for me, thankfully.” 

You see the way Suguru tenses when you mention Choso, but he quickly recovers, a wide grin spreading across his face at this news. “That’s great! So you’ll be back at the park to –”

“Suguru.” You hold up a hand, cutting him off. You remove your hands from his hold once again. “I really appreciate the apology. I appreciate you looking out for me at the shoot and standing up for me.” You give him your first genuine smile of the night. “A few months ago, I would have loved to hear you tell me these things. I would’ve loved to have you care so much. I would have believed that you cared as much as you said.”

“I do care as much as I say,” Suguru asserts. You see his hand move, like he wants to reach for you again, but he thinks better of it. He busies himself instead by running tucking his hair behind his ears.

You’re sure Suguru thought it would be as simple as apologizing to you a few times to earn your forgiveness. It’s a little funny, you think. As you sit here and watch Suguru fumble around with his words, nervously fidget with his hair, stare a hole into your head, you suddenly wonder what it was about him that made you put up with all of his bullshit all this time. What has Suguru ever truly given you aside from a headache and a broken heart?

And yet, suddenly he cares so much.

“Why now?” You ask.

“What?” His head tilts to the side, clearly confused by your question.

“Why do you care now ?”

Suguru mutters your name softly, a gentle plea for you to believe him. “I care. I’ve always cared. I would have done the same thing months ago that I did at the shoot. I would have never let Naoya disrespect you like that.”

You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes you. “Right…” You lift a finger, pointing at Suguru whose eyes widen with your next words. “It’s only okay when you disrespect me.”

“I–”

“What changed?”

“What do you mean?”

Your irritation is beginning to build.

“I mean, what changed for you? You’ve made it clear that you suddenly want to be together, but why? Is it because of how you feel about me? Is it because you see a future together?”

Suguru stays quiet.

“Or is it because of Choso?”

Suguru sighs and you can see the way his jaw ticks as he tries to find his words. 

"Choso…" he says his name like it's dirty. "I can admit that Choso did play a part in me coming to the realization that I want to be with you."

You roll your eyes. "So you only want me now because someone else is giving me what I've been begging for you to give me all this time?"

"No! That's not it. It took seeing you with someone else for me to see that I'm ready to be with you. I'm ready to commit to you."

You fix Suguru with a deadpan look. "...Because you saw someone giving me what I had been asking for you to give me. Now all of a sudden you love me and want to be with me." Suguru reaches for your hands and you pull away, standing from your spot on the couch to put distance between you two. “Do you hear yourself when you talk, Suguru?"

He stands as well. He doesn’t try to get closer, though you can tell by the way he keeps nervously carding his fingers through his hair that he wants to. He breathes your name. “Okay. Okay . I get what you’re saying. I fucked up. I didn’t appreciate a good thing while I had it and yes, it took someone else doing what I should have been for me to open my eyes, but I’m fucking trying! ”

“And it’s too fucking late!” Your voice echoes through Suguru’s living room. Louder than you’d intended, but you’re sick of this shit. Your anger is boiling over, tears burning in the corners of your eyes.

Suguru stares at you in shock, eyes wide. You’ve never raised your voice at him, even at your angriest. But that was the old you. Too quiet, too accepting, loyal to a fault. Not anymore. 

Suguru calls your name again, and for the first time since you’ve met Suguru, you can hear a slight panic in his voice. You can see it in his body language, too. The tension in his jaw, the way his hands are balled into fists at his side, how his lips are pursed tightly together.

“Do you know how many times I stood right here –” you gesture between the two of you. “And asked you how you felt about me? How many times I’d left here hiding my tears after I’d begged you to love me the way that I loved you? And you know what you would tell me?”

He’s silent for once, not bothering with any bullshit reasoning with you. And while you’re grateful, it makes you laugh, a short burst of giggles rushing past your lips.

“Don’t take what I say so seriously when I’m balls deep, babe.” You repeat his words back to him. “ That’s what you would tell me.”

Suguru finally takes a step forward, and you step back. “Baby –”

“No.”

“ Please. ”

“It’s my own fault for putting up with this for so long, honestly. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to change for me just because you see someone else making me happy.”

“I’m not forcing myself to do anything,” Suguru proclaims. He takes another step forward and you take another step back. “Will you just sit down? Just listen to me. I– I’ll do whatever you need me to do to prove it to you.”

“I don’t need you to prove anything to me anymore.”

It’s quiet, the only sounds being the exasperated sigh you let out as you two face each other, staring each other down in the middle of Suguru’s living room. He has nothing to say, not that there’s anything he could say to keep you here.

You move towards the door now, ignoring how Suguru quickly follows after you, keeping a safe distance between you both. As you reach for the doorknob, you glance back at Suguru, who looks like a deer in the headlights, watching you longingly. Like he knows this will be the last time you come here.

Because it absolutely will be the last time.

There are so many more things you want to say to Suguru. You want to say more about how shitty you think he’s been, how you don’t know why you stuck around for so long and let him string you along. But you’ve wasted enough time here. It’s getting later and later by the second and you have somewhere else you want to be, somewhere else you need to be. 

Without another word wasted, you open the door and leave, not bothering to look back.

- - - - - - - -

Your feet dangle loosely over the edge of the deep concrete bowl. The sun has long gone, the moon having risen in its place. But it’s a particularly dark night. You can barely see your shoes as you stare down into what looks like a bottomless pit, the park’s street dim lighting hardly doing anything to illuminate the drop. You wonder how anyone skates here at night. It’s nothing but emptiness, darkness and eerie silence. 

It’s creepy.

It’s also oddly relaxing.

After leaving Suguru’s apartment, you promptly blocked him on all social media. You didn’t need or have any interest in seeing what he had going on in his personal life. But since you often work together, you went ahead and left his phone number unblocked. Though the second you’d made it back to your car, you already had several missed calls and texts from him to which you’d responded with a dry ‘Any messages and calls not pertaining to work will be ignored.’

He hasn’t messaged you since.

It’s been a relief. No more putting up with an asshole, no more being used, no more empty promises. You can finally breathe.

You hear the sound of quiet footsteps slowly approaching you from behind. And while you can’t see who it is, you know. You know by the way your heart skips a beat, the way your pulse races, the way your body reacts immediately in mere anticipation. You don’t need to look back to know who’s coming.

He sits beside you with a quiet groan, long legs dangling over the edge of the skate bowl and swinging in the darkness alongside your own limbs.

“Hey.” His deep voice rings loud in your ears, makes your heart pound wildly against your ribcage.

You turn your gaze to him, drinking in the sight of his pale skin practically glowing under the moonlight. His hair hangs loose tonight, framing his pretty face perfectly. You drink in the sight of him – those dark circles that rest beneath those pretty brown eyes of his. That tattooed line that runs from one cheek, over the bridge of his nose and to the other side of his face. Those soft lips turned slightly at the corners with a small smile.

“Choso,” you whisper his name, afraid that if you speak too loudly, he’ll disappear. His smile widens when you say his name and he reaches over, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, knuckles brushing gently along your skin.

“How did it go?”

Choso is straight to the point, as always. You’re grateful for it, because you don’t want to waste another minute on this.

“It’s over.”

“For good?” He asks quietly.

“Yes.” You answer with no hesitation.

His eyes bore into yours, searching, though you’re not sure for what. But you don’t dare look away. The silence lasts a few seconds, but feels like an eternity before Choso’s large hand comes down to cup your jaw. He exhales slowly, a deep breath you had no idea he was holding.

“Good.”

His lips are on yours in an instant.

[lackadaisicallizard]

hello! in tlg, there's a scene of reg learning hindi for james, but never one of james finding out; how do you think that went?

Ooh yes that! Them learning each other’s languages is so special to me.

Please bear with me because I don’t speak Hindi (or French), but this is how it went:

The Long Game

An additional scene

“Come on you bastard,” James shouts at the TV, his voice double the volume of any reasonable human in an enclosed area.

Regulus is sitting sideways on the sofa, leaning against the arm with his legs resting in James’ lap. He looks up from his book; even after eight months together, his boyfriend’s ability to be completely enraptured by people running up and down a field truly puzzles him.

Sure Regulus looks at the screen every now and then, but he’d be lying if he said it was for anything but the close ups of fit players in shorts.

“Are you wining?” Regulus asks.

“Not if Erling Haaland can’t kick a ball straight for once in his fucking life.”

Regulus raises his eyebrows, doing nothing to keep the smile off his face. James’ eyes are still glued to the screen, and quite frankly his whole energy right now is really rather attractive. There’s not a lot that can make James angry, and his set jaw and piercing eyes are a sight that makes Regulus want to make him forget there’s a game on at all.

He’d never do that though, he knows how much it means to the older boy, and so he makes himself content with just watching the emotions play across his face.

The other team scores a goal then and all hell breaks loose. Regulus is fairly sure he hasn’t heard that much profanity come out of one person’s mouth in his entire life.

Effie appears in the doorway then, her hands on her hips.

“James, dhang se bolo aur chillao mat. I know you’re an adult but this is still my house.”

James has the decency to look apologetic. Even with a game on, he can’t ignore his mum.

“Sorry, Mum. We’re losing.”

“Phir bhi, gaaliyan kam se kam honi chahiye, theekhe?”

James shrugs, “Main koshish karunga.”

She looks disapprovingly at her son.

“I’ll make sure he does more than try, Effie,” Regulus promises.

Effie smiles at that. “This is why you’re my favourite. Use shaitaani karne se rokna.”

“Ek namumkin kaam,” Regulus comments.

Effie laughs. “You’re not wrong there.” She gives James one last stern look before disappearing back down the hallway.

Regulus goes to read his book again but feels James’ eyes on him. He looks up to see a look of complete disbelief.

“What?”

“You just spoke to my mum.”

Regulus’ mouth twitches. “Is that not allowed?”

“Regulus.”

“Yes?”

“You understood and spoke to her in perfect Hindi.”

Regulus is properly smiling now. “Is that a problem?”

There’s a moment of silence and Regulus can almost see the whirring of James’ brain. He then splits into a wide grin, the warmth spreading to his eyes almost immediately.

“You learned Hindi for me?”

“You learned French for me.”

James shakes his head, his expression soft. “I love you so much, Regulus Black.”

The older boy puts his hands on Regulus’ knees before leaning in, waiting for him to lean forward and meet him halfway. Regulus does so gladly, his love for James warm on his lips.

“Say it in French,” Regulus says, voice low.

James’ smile is back. “Je t’aime chaque jour davantage.”

Regulus takes his hand as he speaks. “Mai tumse humesha pyaar karunga.”

“Only forever? That’s not nearly long enough.”

And Regulus kisses him, because how else is he supposed to respond to that? Especially when he agrees. Forever is not long enough to love James Potter.

As they pull apart again James speaks. “Regulus, I love you so much and you learning Hindi for me means the absolute world and we will definitely come back to this moment, but-“

“James-” Regulus interrupts and James pauses in his rambling. Regulus smiles. “You can get back to the game, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ll have plenty of time later to seduce you in multiple languages.”

James takes an audible deep breath. “Fuck me, I’m so lucky.”

“Don’t forget it,” Regulus winks at him before picking up his book again, settling back down on the sofa as he does so.

“Regulus.” James asks just before his attention is once again consumed by football.

“Mm?”

“We can talk about Sirius while he’s in the room now.”

And oh, the French and the Hindi is sexy, but that suggestion? Well, that’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

[hircines-hunter]

WIP Wednesday

👀👀 hi I have Stormcloak brainrot

Gonna tag @umbracirrus @mavariel @thequeenofthewinter @madamefluffnstuff @vivifriend

@aureli-us @oblivions-dawn and anyone else that wants to do this feel free to tag me okay?

Dyrvina walked along the wall. Fog covered the inlet and bay, making the waters more treacherous than usual. Between the rain and fog, Dyrvina had a hard time catching any ship setting sail. And she could tell snow would be moving in soon.

Dyrvina heard yelling below her. The training yard stood below her. Several soldiers practiced against the dummies and few sparred with each other.

She heard Galmar screaming at them. Dyrvina could never be a soldier. She lacked that discipline. She started to walk away when she spotted Ulfric join the chaos below. He took off his coat and rolled the sleeves to his tunic.

Dyrvina leaned against the wall and watched. After a few minutes, the spar sessions went from one on one to Ulfric versus three of his soldiers.

Dyrvina wanted to get a closer view. But she hadn’t a clue how to get down. And she feared she would miss the fight.

She spotted a guard nearby and asked him. He directed her to a flight of stairs in a tower. She went down the stairs as fast as her boots let her. She pushed the door open and found herself in the training yard.

Dyrvina sat on the stairs and watched. While his soldiers tired out, Ulfric did not. He simply took off his tunic and continued.

Dyrvina’s attention was drawn away from Ulfric when someone sat down next to her. Galmar. He leaned back on the stairs.

“People say he’s grown lazy due to becoming Jarl. He fights the war from inside his Palace. A coward.”

Dyrvina looked back at the fight. “They would be wrong. I bet he could take on my grandfather’s entire guard force. Without the axe.” Dyrvina smiled. “He is anything but lazy or a coward.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve hardly seen them train. Not like this. But…. They’re also not fighting a war…. I mean…. Not like this.” Dyrvina frowned. She sighed. She went back to watching Ulfric. She watched the way he moved around the younger men with finesse and grace. The spar came to a stop. Ulfric stood there catching his breath. Dyrvina wanted to walk over—

“Here.” Galmar handed Dyrvina the Jarl’s tunic.

Dyrvina felt her cheeks burn. She took the tunic quite aggressively when she stood. She walked over with his tunic. She watched a bead of sweat trail down his back across his scars. She cleared her throat and stretched out her arm. Sweat beaded across the coarse hair on his chest. She stared for a moment.

Dyrvina gained the attention of the other soldiers and not just the Jarl. As soon as Ulfric grabbed the tunic, she turned around before he could say anything. She gave Galmar a glare that could kill and slammed the door to the stairs behind her. She covered her ears as she heard jeers and whistles.

Why did she do that?

Dyrvina walked up the stairs. She peered over the edge. Ulfric stood next to Galmar, clothed now. Galmar had a grin on his face. Dyrvina clenched her jaw. She found her way inside and to her room.

Dyrvina flung herself into the bed and groaned into a pillow. She cocooned herself into the blankets.

“My Lady?” She heard her maid walk in and shut the door. “Is everything alright?”

“That stupid general set me up to be embarrassed…. Why did I do that?” She groaned again. “Now they all think I like him!”

Maera sat on the bed. “What happened?”

Dyrvina sat up. “I was watching the Jarl spar with the soldiers. When he was finished, his General handed me his shirt. So naturally I went to give it to him.”

Maera opened her mouth. “Ah. The soldiers made a scene.” She smiled softly. “Well, don’t worry too much about it. They’ll probably forget by tomorrow.” Maera patted Dyrvina’s head. “Have you eaten? Why don’t I get you something to eat?”

Dyrvina nodded. “Aye.”

[getvalentined]

Tyalaskr is my oldest (surviving) OC, having been originally invented in his roughest, simplest form when I was 11 years old; this makes him 27 this year, which is a hell of a thing.

He's Riv's bestie. Possibly his boyfriend. Definitely his husband, but in the "for tax purposes" kind of way. They don't live in a region that has taxes, so nobody knows exactly what they mean by this. They were born on the same day!

Random OC lore below.

Tyalaskr is the only male in his entire species, and is the result of a vicious breeding project undertaken by his mother over 10,000 years ago. His father was an aur, like Riv, which means that Tyal shouldn't have been able to be conceived at all because there shouldn't have been a soul available for him to form around—but somehow there was, and now he's here.

Tyal has 60+ "sisters," although they're actually almost entirely grandnieces and great-grandnieces; his mother's species operates similarly to ants or bees, with one queen capable of breeding and a host of sterile workers/warriors/etc., all of which refer to each other in sibling terms regardless of what generation they come from. This species is one of three that were intentionally crafted by one of the first generation born on the planet, and were designed specifically for use in war. The culture that made them is long gone, but they've never really been able to shake off their original purpose.

He's immortal on his father's side and almost indestructible on his mother's side, so Tyal is just gonna be here forever and he's made peace with that for the most part. He has limited shapeshifting abilities (from his mother's side) that allow him to move in and out of mortal society periodically, although he spends a lot of time living with the aur.

In spite of being considered a success as far as his mother's breeding projects go, Tyal has a lot of what could be considered birth defects:

Instead of having feet like his sisters or cloven hooves like the aur, he has mostly-digitigrade three-toed almost-hooves with a dewclaw in the back, which aren't very functional on the majority of terrain.

The opening of his mouth is too small for his teeth (because aur don't have mouths but do have teeth) so he has some difficulty opening up very wide without hurting himself.

There are multiple places where he produces feathers instead of hair due to a follicle mismatch, most notably along one side of his head, the underside of his ears, and several points on his tail (which is not visible in this picture).

The inability to shapeshift properly could also be considered a birth defect, particularly since he has access to pretty much all the abilities of an aur save for sublimation.

His longer-than-normal limbs (particularly the structure of his legs and feet) make him slightly heavier than he should be, which gave him some trouble learning to fly; thankfully, aur can levitate when they reach adulthood, so Tyal is able to leverage that together with his wings and hasn't had much trouble since childhood. He still doesn't like wearing anything heavy, avoiding metal accessories, weaponry and armor entirely, opting for the lightest and most minimal clothing possible.

I'm gonna cut myself off here because, again, this is my oldest OC so I could talk about him for years. I will not bore you further.

[myreia]

Desiderium

CHAPTER THREE: HAUNT

Chapter Rating: Mature (full story Explicit) Characters: Aureia Malathar (WoL), Thancred Waters Pairings: Aureia/Thancred Chapter Words: 2,682 Notes: Set during early Endwalker, spoilers for the start of the expac. Summary: After arriving in Old Sharlayan, Aureia wants to see Thancred’s old haunts. He could not be happier to oblige, but his thoughts are occupied by something else entirely. Prompt: ii. hands | blush Chapters: one • two • three • four • five Read on AO3

Thancred picks up the pace as he heads up a steep incline. The Baldesion Annex rises at the top, its elegant windows alight with a golden glow. If the others have returned, there’s no sign—its doors are silent, no residents entering or exiting. For a moment she thinks he’s headed for the Annex itself, but then he turns sharply to the left and walks right past it.

“Where are we going?” she asks, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingertips brush her earrings; the constellation of silver rings in her upper ears are cold, a raw sting against her flesh. She hates removing her piercings, but she should do it before she regrets it.

He glances over his shoulder, eyes alight with mischief, his hand still in hers. “To say would ruin the surprise, fair lady,” he says, pulling her down a narrow path between buildings.

“Don’t ‘fair lady’ me, we’re married.”

“All the more reason to, no?”

“You know I don’t like pet names.”

“As you say, Aur.”

“That’s a nickname.”

“I’m certain that though it is lost on me, the difference is, indeed, significant.”

“If you keep teasing me like this I will turn around and go right back to the Annex and leave you on your own to—”

Aureia whoops in surprise, a short, sharp gasp escaping her as he suddenly shoves her off the path and into an alcove. He gives her no time to breathe, no time to take stock of their surroundings—his mouth is on hers and up is down and down is up, and she is lost in the swift spontaneity of it all. She clings to him, her hands tangled in his hair, her back sliding against smooth marble as he pushes her against the wall. He kisses her—hot and open and careless in his rush, easily encouraging her to part her lips for him.

Mirth bubbles in the back of her throat and she trembles, laughing as she kisses him back. He grunts, seeking more—demanding more—his body pressed to hers, a hand at her waist, the other gripping the fabric of her shirt. He tugs the hem free from her trousers.

Her heart pounds. He has no qualms here in the dim light of this out-of-the-way nook, this moment of passion slipped easily between two buildings like a bookmark between the pages. Her thoughts wander distractedly, floating away even as he kisses her again, fervent and urgent, his overwhelming need for her breaking free. Long days of even longer study must lead to finding creative ways of unwinding. She can imagine more than a few lustful and dissatisfied Studium students sneaking off to alcoves like this one.

Did he once, in his youth? A self-proclaimed bard, a rogue, hopelessly pursuing anyone who caught his eye with half-baked song and poetry. Some would have fallen for the act. He has his charms, after all. And his desires.  

Her hand slips from his hair and falls to the side, palm against the wall, her fingers brushing the ivy. “Thancred,” she murmurs.

He draws back, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers.

“Please tell me your haunt of choice has a little more character than the four fulms between two walls?”

Thancred shakes with laughter, grimacing as he tries to hold it back, and rests his forehead against hers. “The things you think of sometimes, Aureia, I swear…”

The enchantment in his voice makes her heart sing.

“Well?” she replies, arching an eyebrow.

He chuckles and takes her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “A little to your left and up. See if you can find it.”

She frowns. Her fingers comb through the ivy, seeking, searching—and then finally slide across the fine grooves that demarcate a door or opening of some kind. She cocks her head, perplexed, and he flashes her a grin. Reaching over, he pulls ivy out of the way and rams his hand against the wall. Stone scrapes against stone and the wall rotates inwards, revealing a passage beyond.

Aureia shoots him a sideways look.

“You wanted to open that while you were kissing me, didn’t you?”

“Me? Such a thought would never occur to me.”

“Overdramatic fool.”

Thancred laughs. Brushing hair from his forehead, he nods to the passage behind her and gestures for her to go ahead. Planting a swift kiss on his cheek, she turns her back on him and slips inside, eyes wide and heart alight with curiosity.

To her surprise there is nothing in the passage—a few old boxes, tucked away in a corner and forgotten years ago, a hefty wood ladder with broken rungs, worn-out tables and chairs stacked together. Her best guess is that they are rejects from the Studium, furniture that has seen more than their fair share of students and have since been retired to rot. She finds a flight of stairs a few paces from the threshold, spiralling upwards at a steep angle. A service staircase of some kind, judging from how tight it is. They must be in one of those spires that sprout off the sides of some Sharlayan buildings. She noted a number of them when their ship pulled into the harbour this morning; now she’s going to find out what is at the top.

She sets foot on the bottom step and begins the climb. The light is soft and dim, spilling in through the large greenish-blue windows that line the stairwell. The aura tinges the worn marble steps—typical for Sharlayan buildings, yet she finds it reminiscent of the northern lights. Her heart quickens with each step, following it round and round, passing arched windows as she ascends. It isn’t long before her calves are aching, her breath comes in pants, and sweat drips down the back of her neck.

“What is this place?” Aureia asks, her voice echoing strangely in the tight yet empty space.

“Nothing of import,” Thancred replies. “At least to Sharlayans. A place to eat and study and write reports—and to catch a wink or two if time allows. There are plenty more of those nap rooms G’raha is so fond on the first and second floors.”

“Is that where we’re headed? For a nap room?”

“Heavens, no. Do you doubt my taste in haunts so much?”

“For you, now? Never.” She draws abruptly to a stop and glances over her shoulder at him. “For you in the past? Hm. Well. That’s quite a different question altogether, don’t you think?”

He sighs wearily. “You never get tired of this, do you?”

She flashes him a grin and spins around, ignoring the ache in her legs as she takes the steps two at a time. A moment or two later, she reaches the top of the stairs and bursts through the threshold. She slows to a stop, mouth open in wonder, and surveys the little chamber.

Hazy coloured light streams in through the windows on all four walls, dancing lazily across the marble floor. It has been some time since anyone has been up here, judging from the dust. What few furniture pieces have been collected here are covered in large swathes of protective white cloth. A bookcase stands in a corner, its tomes worn and their spines broken, the titles faded with age. Some do not even have titles, as far as she can tell; they may very well be journals. Ivy creeps in through the cracks in the stonework, spreading across the inner walls like cobwebs and dangling from the ceiling. How it survives here—or why no one has cleaned it up—she will never know. 

“It has been many a year since I’ve been here,” Thancred calls as he reaches the threshold. “And here I thought it may have changed. Perhaps I should consider myself a fool for thinking so.”

She passes through the chamber, the heels of her boots echoing against the floor. Click. Clack. Click. For a room so small, the sound is so vast. “Did you come here often?” she asks.

“Aye. I did say it was one of my haunts, did I not?”

“What did you come here for?”

“To think, to sleep.” He exhales a long sigh and takes up position in a corner, where the windowed walls meet a slim line of marble. He crosses his arms. “Perchance to dream, even. In reality, Aureia, this was an escape. From my master, from my mentor, from Fourchenault, from the stressors imposed upon a street urchin who had known nothing better. From the sights and sounds of the city. A place where I could take vigil on my own terms.”   

She nods and casts and eye out of the nearest window, peering through the green-blue and gold glass to observe the city below. With all four walls windowed in like this, there is an excellent view of all the major landmarks—the Studium from one side, the Rostra from another, the Noumenon and Scholar’s Harbour. She can’t help but notice that the furniture has been shoved aside in such a way that Thaliak’s statue is easily visible—and to the churning waters of the sea beyond it.

A reminder, perhaps. Of the meaning behind the surname Louisoix gifted him.

Her heart pangs. Despite this tower’s central location and its view of the city, she’s struck by how lonely it is. To be surrounded by so many people, and yet…

Aureia loops a long lock of loose hair behind her ear and runs her fingers over a white sheet. A chair beneath squeaks, its legs unstable. She frowns, shrugging out of her jacket, and throws it over the back. “Did others ever come here with you?”

The question is pointed, the double-meaning clear. She doesn’t know why she asked it—curiosity, perhaps, about who he was in his youth.

He makes a face. “I… why do you want to know about that? Must we go through my whole sordid history?”

“You know I don’t think about it that way.”

“Then you are a rare specimen in that regard.”

“I don’t ask because I’m jealous. I ask because I know so little of your time in Sharlayan. You never speak of it, but it is as much a part of you as anything else. You don’t have to hide it. You don’t have to put up some pretense that I’m the only person who ever mattered in your life.”

He falls silent, his expression unreadable. She pauses, cursing inwardly—was she insensitive for phrasing it as such? Likely. This wouldn’t be the first time she put her foot in her mouth. There have been many others in his life, for good or for ill. Some who came before her, and others who came after. He seems embarrassed—hesitant, even—to admit it front of her. But the truth of the matter is that she doesn’t mind the acknowledgement; if anything she prefers it.

“You had a life before me, Thancred,” she says quietly. “Just as I had one before you.”

He raises his head, his gaze finding hers. She pauses, heart thundering in her chest, uncertain what to say next. She has never broached the topic with him—not really—but she has sometimes wondered how awkward she has made his life. Unlike him, her sexual history is short and brief, and he is already too familiar with it. How strange have Alliance meetings become for him, knowing that Aymeric will always be in attendance? Or visits to Ala Mhigo, where there is always a chance of running into Fordola? To say nothing of Sidurgu, who is still very dear to her, with whom she shares a deeply personal connection she cannot explain, and thoughts she cannot easily express to the Scions. Not even her closest friends. Not even her husband.  

For him to know the others who have known her intimately… It’s not easily accepted.

She knows what this is like too well. She counts Hilda among her closest friends, and she has not forgotten the relationship that sparked between her and Thancred. Or the hurt it caused her and how their actions pushed her towards Aymeric.

All in the past now…  

There is no space for jealousy.

“Then yes,” he says finally, meeting her gaze. “I have had other lovers, and some of them have been here. Does that sate your curiosity?”

He pushes off the wall, the air prickling the back of her neck as he strides past her. His brow is furrowed, his mouth tight, all sense of the intense confidence and certainty he has before all but evaporated. He places a hand on what she suspects is a desk, his fingers twisting the white cover.

Aureia presses a hand to her chest, toying with her necklace. A simple silver chain, thin and delicate—a gift from Ryne and Gaia. “I’m sorry,” she says, regret twisting in the pit of her stomach. She should have left it alone. As with many things, she has ruined this by speaking out of turn. “I didn’t mean to push. Are you all right?”

He doesn’t answer. He simply stands—observing with the room with equal parts reverence and melancholy, as if mourning something he lost long ago. “Aye,” he says finally. “I am. I merely thought…”

She swallows the lump in her throat. She waits, her dark hair shining in a swath of blue-green and sliver light.

“This tower was disused for years by the time I stumbled upon it,” Thancred says finally. “A part of me hoped that others would find it, too. That it would have been re-purposed somehow. That it has not leaves me questioning… either my master did not want others to interfere out of sentimentality, or no one else has thought to come this way.”

She takes a step towards him. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No. I suppose it is not. I simply hoped that…”

He trails off.

She takes another step. “Home is not often how you remember it.”

His grip relaxes and he releases the cloth. Disturbed by his touch, it slithers to the floor, dragged down by the unstoppable pull of gravity. The desk beneath it is strong and sturdy, its surface still covered with brittle journals and yellowed papers. Was he the last to leave them here? Or someone else?

“It’s been over twenty years, Aureia,” he says, his voice cracking. “I was seventeen when I left for Ul’dah, when I failed to save Minfilia’s father. The age Ryne is now. Too young to be making such difficult decisions.”

“Aye,” she echoes. “Too young.”

He meets her gaze. “Do you remember where you were when you were seventeen?”

“Yes. Proving my worth to Garlean legatuses in a trial by combat. Proving the strength of my abilities to a certain crown prince.” She dares not breath Zenos’ name. Not here. Not now. “My mother staked not just the lives of my brother and myself on it, but her and my father’s as well.”

Her words are not bitter. She has no bitterness left to give. Kallias and Ariv may be alive somewhere in Garlemald, but Elgara’s death in Bozja closed the chapter on her birth family forever.

He pauses. “Too young,” he murmurs.

Aureia takes one last step, closing the distance between them. She places her palm against the back of his hand, her fingers entwining with his. He doesn’t flinch or move away. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she says. “Do you want to leave? We can head back to the Annex now, I’m sure the others will be waiting for us.”

He doesn’t answer. The chamber is silent, its stale air somehow both warm and cool, the light a haze, the distant sounds of the city little more than a distant hum. Somewhere, there is a trickle of water. Somewhere, a tick of a chronometer. Below, above, she does not know.

His hand grips hers.

“Then let them wait,” Thancred says roughly and pulls her into him.

[actual-bill-potts]

Hi! If you're still doing the prompts, may I request a Finrod (in beleriand) + green things even among the pits and broken rocks?

Hello! Dear one! Most excellent silm artist! I apologize for being gone so long, feels like I have had several years of bad brain days in a row😭 but thank you so much for prompting me anyway - and what a prompt! I was instantly taken by an image and had to write it down. I hope you enjoy this one<3

TW for descriptions of blood, gore, bones, and general dead bodies.

They brought the bones up first.

Beren’s frame was sharp as daggers, driven into Lúthien’s arms; but he had not listened to her pleas that he eat.

"I will not rest until they can," he said, and for a long moment Lúthien had not understood: who? Rest where?

Then she understood: he meant the dead.

Lúthien was weary beyond belief, cursing the softness of her form and the six-days lost in Nargothrond, and even Huan beside her was sagging in exhaustion. But in truth, she did not want to leave anyone down there in the dark and the filth either.

So they gathered the bones. There were so many! Lúthien knew, of course, that the Eldar had skeletons; but the breadth of them, scattered about the floor, was such that she could not really connect any of it to living breathing creatures. Many of the bones had been split open and the marrow sucked out; others were splintered so badly they had wedged into the stone floor and had to be left. Despite this there were scraps of flesh, still, scattered here and there. It was like no death in the wilderness she had ever seen. These were not merely starving creatures; they had been purposefully cruel.

More than once Lúthien had to stop, and take her too-light load up under the stars, climbing the crumbling steps and breathing very steadily lest she lose all composure. Beren worked like a man possessed, but he was wasted to almost nothing, and so their grim task took long enough that the velvet blackness of the sky had begun to turn grey.

But at last it was done; they had neat rows of bones, away from the chains and the stones, laid out upon the dirt under the sky. At last there was only - only Finrod left, to carry out.

Huan descended with them, this time, head hanging low, and Lúthien clutched his ruff for support as they approached her cousin’s body. The stones crackled beneath her feet.

What was left of Finrod had been barely visible as they labored, between the gloom of the prison and the darkness of the night; but now light was creeping down the stairs, and she could see the gold of his hair and the pale grey of his skin. He was splattered in old black stains, across his mouth and chest and side and legs, and new brown stains. As Lúthien approached she could see the white of bone in his chest and flashing in one arm, and had to close her eyes. Beren beside her let out a low moan.

After a moment, she opened her eyes again, feeling the first rays of the sun warming her back. Then she froze.

Finrod’s hair had been mostly shorn, and what was left was covered in the damp blackness of the pit; but somehow, through a crack in the wall, a patch of aur-hennin had grown. It crowned him in yellow and green, leaves tucked behind his ears, one flower falling forward onto his forehead, as if he had simply fallen asleep after a night’s heavy revelry.

"Beren, look!" said Lúthien, very softly, "the king has got a crown again."

For a moment she felt - outside herself. She was not Lúthien, princess of Doriath; she was the Nandor Elves who had tended to Denethor’s slain body upon the hill of Amon Ereb and, it was said, crowned him in flowers; she was the Eagle who had snatched King Fingolfin’s body from the hand of the Morgoth; she was, for a moment, someone very small, standing in an unfamiliar forest under an unfamiliar sun.

Then the moment passed, as Beren staggered in grief upon her shoulder; but his tears were, she thought, a little lighter, seeing the golden king crowned, seeing her cousin cradled in softness.

Slowly they carried him up to the light.