#trying to write it myself but lord it’s hard

[beerok23]

MACBETH AT HAROLD PINTHER (November 9th, 2024) - A REVIEW WITH SPOILERS

Now that I’m back home, I can write a considerate and not at all crazy and nostalgic post about Macbeth.

Be careful, if you haven’t seen it yet and you’re supposed to see it soon: this review has spoilers.

Please, forgive me if it has typos and if I repeat myself and if this post is so unhinged. I can’t help it, I need to vent my thoughts and feelings.

Watching Macbeth was an otherworldly experience. Something you can only dream of and when it happens it changes all your brain cells.

When David first appeared on scene, from the darkness of the first lines pronounced by the witches…well, I wasn’t expecting him. I kind of distinguished his silhouette in the shadow, and I wasn’t sure that it was him. But it was. And when the lights turned on and he appeared on the scene full of blood and gasping…well I think my world shattered. It’s hard to explain what happens when you finally have the chance to see someone you admire so much only from afar, an actor you’re so accustomed to watch anywhere everyday…and then he finally appears in front of you and he’s like materialising and it’s like magic.

I mean, he was there, with the bowl at the centre of the stage, and the blood stains and he was SO TALL and SO David and SO everything all at once.

I spent the entire 2 hours watching him from my STALL B7 seat, a PERFECT seat —because he occupies the scene at the right of the stage SO much… seriously, I was lucky to choose that seat and it was perfect. Of course watching the scene from upper seats would be awesome to better appreciate the mis en scene, but people… the HEARTACHE I got when I realized David and his brown expressive eyes were there, in front of me.

I couldn’t not watch him, the way he possesses the stage, how he moves perfectly, and the lines, and the tone, a mixture of Crowley and Staged 😭😭😭 I mean… there’s one little laugh he made at one moment that really made me think, “Ok, here’s our demon.”

And those few moments of hilarity, when they try to make the audience laugh (which I almost never did, because I was so tense for the dramatic effect of the whole thing), for example when he mimics another character’s tone to mock him. Ok, that was an original Crowley.

And then Macbeth turns into a tyrant, and he is suddenly even more indifferent than Kilgrave when he’s there on the stage, for those two killing scenes that made me shiver and gasp in outrage. Seriously, the gasp I made when I saw him with the kids…

and I trembled all night (also because it’s terribly cold in the theatre 😁).

ABOUT THE SCENES, MY FAVOURITE MOMENTS, THE STAGE AND THE DIRECTION

The scene of the apparitions is awesome. No rising him up, like at Donmar, fine, but still… incredible. With the red lights, and the actors with spasms…And the kid actor (Raffi Phillips during my show) was incredible.

I adored how they performed the Banquo ghost bit. Intelligent, brilliant. And David out of himself was perfection.

The slow motion. It was my fave artistically bit, I think. The first time it happens, you’re so surprised. It’s like watching a movie, only it’s theatre. But when it happens during the dance scene…I felt my heart explode. And the way he interacts with Lady Macbeth, the perfection of the music changing and slowing down…Oh sweet lord.

The glass. Gosh, I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, I knew there were actors around the stage and musicians and singers, but I didn’t know about the glass. And the actors punching the glass to mimic knocks and sounds…Incredible tension and suspence.

And the scene with Lady MacDuff and her son’s death was incredible, INCREDIBLE. Again, MAcbeth being there on stage, as if he was really there (which he is not), holding the kid to soothe him and then…throwing him towards the killer. I felt it in my bones, David THRIVES in those moments of pure evil and you can only loathe Macbeth for being like that. And the same happens at the end, with the killing of the kid during the last fight, and when he breaks his neck…The whole theatre gasped in unison, I swear.

MY GOD HE’S GOOD. He’s so good.

The trees at the end…it was all so perfect and pure and a bliss. I can’t really explain.

ABOUT DAVID’S OUTFIT AND MONOLOGUES

The monologues…how many lines does Macbeth have? He’s almost ever present on scene and he’s so good, perfect.

The “is it a dagger” scene was…🥹 I can’t explain. And whenever he sat at the corner of the stage, being there even if Macbeth is not there. It feels like meta-theatre, as if they are trying to make us feel what he feels, even if you’re not supposed to be by his side.

The way he said “tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow”, with his perfect Scottish accent. It blew my mind. I was out of myself by then.

The kilt… well…the kilt 🖤 I’m not a sucker for David in a kilt. I wasn’t. But I changed my mind. This outfit will hunt my dreams for…a while. Years to come. But even more than the kilt, his legs and socks, and the black jackets on the grey shirt. The jackets are seriously a masterpiece.

Also, David keeping the wedding ring on stage is the sweetest thing btw ❤️

The legendary hair band, which disappears towards the end to leave space to David’s own hands; I kept watching enamoured every time he threw his hand in his hair. I mean, that’s his mannerism, and I was there to see him doing it.

And his hands. Those scenes in which he came forward with his hands moving in the air… incredible. Also, those few times in which his eyes fell to the stalls and sometimes it felt as if he was looking right at you. Amazing 🥹

ABOUT THE CAST

The cast. Brilliant, talented performers, all of them. Again the kid, my gosh how good was he? And Banquo’s understudy (NIALL MACGREGOR) was GLORIOUS and he complemented David so well!!! I have no idea how good the first actor is, but believe me: this Banquo was…a perfect complement to David. Even in his appearance, and I can totally see him playing a fine Macbeth last Tuesday, too.

Cush’s understudy (JASMIN HINDS) was AMAZING. I haven’t seen Cush, obviously, but from the clips I watched online, she gives a different vibe to the couple relationship, and you can tell that David let her manage the intensity of their connection and touches on scenes. It was lovely. She was lovely. I found they had huge chemistry on scene, and they fitted together awesomely.

I think she was insanely good and I managed to tell her after the show, when she came out from stage door. She is a very nice and sweet person, and she also congratulated me for my 10th wedding anniversary when I said to her, silly as I am, that I came with my husband from Italy to watch a married couple dying on stage on the night of our 10th anniversary. She was amused, and she was lovely. I told her that I was glad I got to see HER on scene, and I meant it 💜

The “pause” for comic effect performed by JATINDER SINGH RANDHAWA was insanely funny. All the knock knock jokes, him laughing at the audience and mocking random people, Oasis and Blur references, inside jokes about canceling the shows… He was so funny and he was so good when suddenly everything went back to normal and he became serious again in the span of a second.

How good are all these actors!

And Macduff, played by NOOF OUSELLAM. You know what? He’s the one who made me cry. When he’s told about his family’s death…he was so insanely good and realistic in his reaction, and the tension and drama on scene was so palpable and I cried with him. He was incredible.

As much as MOYO AKANDE, who was probably my favourite surprise of the night. I love her, she’s insanely good. As much as everyone else.

In the end, I’m so lucky that I got to see David performing, because if I had booked last Saturday, I would have missed the show and I would have been incredibly sad and disappointed (probably for the rest of my life). And David wasn’t still in tip-top condition, because after the last fight scene (which is a very well choreographed fight with swords), when he kneeled, he coughed (and I’ve been told that was not in character) — and it was the only little thing that made you understand that he was sick the prior week. My god, he’s such a professional, getting back as soon as he could. He was perfect and this whole production was a rollercoaster of emotions and feelings and surprises and suspence. It really deserves the world and accolades.

And I know I did not get a chance to see David at Stage Door, but you know what? I don’t care. Because this was a weekend that I totally dedicate to Good Omens in general (we went to St. James’s, and Tavistock Square, and to the bandstand in Battersea Park, which is probably my new place of the heart (broken or not, one of my favourite places in the whole world, now). And watching David on stage after a year of obsessing over the show and him and Michael felt like a cathartic moment. Ok, it’s not like meeting him and talking to him, maybe. But it’s better: it’s watching him in his raw version, in his element. The theatre has this kind of magic that television can’t provide. And I’m insanely happy to have gotten the chance to attend to one of these incredible shows.

Now I know.

09/11/2024

[scrambledslut]

i need jealous!joel

[unproduciblesmackdown]

relevant twitter meme wins wahooo

[greenvillainredemption]

[drabbles-mc]

Lucky For You

Tyler Owens x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, mentions of hospitals/injuries, no use of "y/n"

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: earlier tonight i lied to myself and said i wouldn't work on any new oneshots until i finished a wip. but I've been marinating on this idea since last week and i just had to write it down. just a short cute little fluffy somethin'! my first twisters fic. hope you enjoy!

You were shaking your head as you walked back over to the side of the picnic table that Tyler was sitting at. You had a beer bottle in one hand, the other resting on Tyler’s shoulder as you stepped in so you could plop back down beside him at the table.

“I’m still trying to figure out what you guys told Lily to say,” you gestured to Lily then Kate with the bottom of your beer bottle before taking a quick sip, “to get Kate to cave so quickly.” You gave Lily a playful smile. “What’d you say to convince her? Hm? ‘Cause lord knows it wasn’t either of these two,” you said as you nodded to Tyler first, then Boone.

Both men looked at you with dramatic looks of offense. “What?” Tyler asked, grin starting to curl his lips as he spoke. “You don’t think we were charming or convincing enough on our own?”

You rolled your eyes as he draped his arm around you. “No, I don’t.”

It got another wave of laughter. Tyler took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to lean in and kiss your temple. “Seemed to work just fine on you.” He reached across and stole your beer bottle from you, taking a sip before allowing you to snatch it back. “And you said yes to a way more dangerous proposition.”

You shook your head even though you were smiling, even though you could feel your cheeks warming. It was no great secret, or even breaking news at this point after the last few years you’d spent married to the ridiculous man sitting on the picnic table bench next to you. Sometimes, though, you couldn’t help the cheesy grin that crossed your face when you became a little more aware than usual of the wedding band on your hand.

“That’s different,” you said, not that it mattered, not that it helped your case at all as Tyler continued to nettle you good-naturedly.

“How’d you two meet, anyway?” Kate asked.

It was a fair question. You didn’t chase with the rest of them, never had. You’d met and fallen in love with Tyler before he decided to make a career out of it. The journey wasn’t always a smooth or easy one, but you never doubted him, or your relationship, not even for a second. Even in the hard times. A lot can happen over the course of six years, but you still clearly remembered when you first met him.

Tyler had started watching you the second he realized where Kate’s question was going. He watched the little twitches and shifts of your hands and facial expressions as you went rapid-fire back down memory lane. When you ended up with a little smirk on your face, he knew that you were all too happy to tell the story.

You took another drink from your beer bottle before just handing it back to Tyler, rather than trying to make him steal it again. “When I met Tyler, I’d say about, oh, seventy percent? Yeah, seventy. About seventy percent of his face was covered in bruises and bumps. Fractured cheekbone, split lip.” You turned and looked at him even though you were talking to Kate. “He was lookin’ real cute.”

She laughed, but you could see the mild confusion in her eyes as she looked back and forth between the two of you. “You find him after a rough chase, or…?”

You smiled and shook your head. “We met back before he was the infamous Tornado Wrangler.” Leaning forward, you braced your arms flat on the picnic table, Tyler’s hand sliding from your shoulder down to the center of your back, his palm warming you through your tank top. “They brought him to the hospital that I work at after he got stomped out by a bull at the rodeo.” You felt his fingers drumming against your back and your smile stretched a little wider. “I wasn’t even supposed to be checkin’ in on anyone in the wing he was in, but the nurse who was supposed to help discharge him had to leave.”

Tyler had a cocky little smirk on his face. “Lucky for you though.”

You gave him a look that didn’t pack nearly as much of a punch as it should of since you were grinning. “Yeah, real lucky for me that Jay’s kid got in a fight at school so he had to leave and he left you to me.”

Tyler laughed. “He was cute but I gotta say, I think you’re a little cuter.”

You gave him a playful shove, which he responded to by looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer again. You shook his head at him before looking back at Kate. “Anyway, as I was saying. I go into his room to talk through some of the paperwork with him, and with one eye practically swollen shut still this man right here is tryin’ to get my number.”

“Actually, if I remember right—”

“You were concussed into next Tuesday—I doubt you remember much of anything right.”

“If I remember,” he repeated with a laugh, “I was actually tellin’ you that you should just jot my number down from my patient forms so you could call me sometime.”

You looked at Kate with a feigned nonplussed look. “Told me somethin’ about making a ‘house call’. Real bold for a man who was about half an inch away from some serious brain damage.”

“Probably what gave him the confidence to ask in the first place,” Lily piped up with a laugh.

Everyone was laughing, and listening. Kate might’ve been the only one in present company who hadn’t heard the story before, but it wasn’t as though it was something that the two of you were constantly rehashing all the time. The two of you usually kept the retellings amusing enough anyway, allowing the rest of the crew to throw in their two cents even though they hadn’t been there when it all started. After all, Tyler might’ve been the one you met first, and under some pretty dire conditions, but you’d been around to help out the rest of the team plenty of times since then. Whether you were making sure they were all alright after a rough chase, or meeting up with them in the towns that had been blown through to see who you could help even if you weren’t off the clock. You might not have chased with the rest of them, but you were still part of the team.

“How long did it take for him to wear you down, then?” Kate asked.

 The shit-eating grin on Tyler’s face grew tenfold. He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours. “Go ahead. Tell her.”

You dropped your forehead so that it rested on top of your forearms for a moment before looking up and at Kate again. “I gave him my number after I pushed him to the lobby in his wheel chair.”

“Doctor’s orders, by the way,” he interjected with a shake of his head. “I didn’t need it.”

You rolled your eyes but kept going. “He was pretty persistent the whole way down, so I told him if he still remembered my name and number by the time his fractures all healed up, I’d meet him for a cup of coffee or somethin’.”

“Cup of coffee ended up bein’ a split six-pack and a failed bonfire at her cousin’s place, by the way,” he added on with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and your lip still wasn’t fully healed.”

He smirked. “Didn’t stop you though.” You lightly swatted his chest with the back of your hand but you didn’t say anything to refute his statement. “So really, what I’m hearin’, is that you shouldn’t be havin’ any doubts about our charms.”

“Sayin’ yes to a date is nothing like—”

“You also said yes to marryin’ him,” Lily added on, always happy to stir the pot just a little. “Y’know, with the ring that he almost lost in a chase.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “If I left it at home I was sure she’d find it!”

“Yeah,” Lily laughed as she argued, “and if the chase went wrong somebody on the other end of the county would find it. Then what?”

Tyler laughed and shrugged. “Corner store sells Ring Pops.”

You had no shot at tamping down your smile. “Prob’ly still would’ve said yes, too.”

(divider by @saradika 💞)

Twisters Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists): @garbinge

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

[ajdrawshq]

step 2 achieved: sent a fuckin. complaint form thingy 👍 my head hurts

they werent lying . sometimes that 5 minute phonecall really is just the easiest way to do it

[whimsicalazriel]

Evermore → Azriel x female!reader

summary: in which Azriel stumbles upon your cottage.

warnings: mentions of forced marriage, High Lord Beron because that man himself is a warning lol. hints at psychological abuse from parental figure. other than that? just fluff.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: english is not my first language. this is not my main blog but merely a test to challenge myself when it comes to writing. hopefully I’ll do these characters justice. if not, please forgive me, constructive criticism is very much appreciated! 🤍 (do not repost my writing anywhere).

You weren’t sure if it was fate that made you run into the mysterious Shadowsinger, hazel eyes and hair darker than the night sky or if it was the sheer will of the cauldron who pulled him to you, shadows and all.

You have always been called a lone wolf, a nobody who contented herself with books and silence. Hence your cottage in an undisturbed part of Autumn Court. Nestled deep into the woods.

You never dared to seek out your family, a prestigious household of high fae, itching to marry off their own daughter to one of the brutal High Lords sons. They never specified whom, and you never stuck around to find out. Simply walking to your room to pack what you could carry and left your home the same night.

Your father looked for you, cursing your name to the skies. You heard him on his stallion as you hid in a tree, leaves of red, orange and yellow hiding you.

Soon after, you stumbled across a dilapidated cottage, the front door askew and windows missing, but it slowly and surely became your home, your comfort.

You learned to forage, your hands now calloused from your hard work. You built your own garden, so full of life that your solace never bothered you when you kneeled on the cold rich dirt. You couldn’t imagine yourself ever getting tired of the smell or the feel of it, so comforting yet so cold. You lived off of your garden, not daring yourself to venture out of your comfort zone to hunt, so you delighted yourself in trying new dishes with the vegetables and herbs you grew, lying to yourself how you didn’t miss tender and juicy meats.

You lived by yourself for 20 years until the spymaster of the night court stumbled across your quaint home, on a mission to spy on the high lord of Autumn Court, Beron.

Azriel would’ve thought it to be abandoned if it wasn’t for the warm candle lights shining through the fabrics covering the broken windows, and the lush garden shining in the moonlight. He silently trekked forward, Truth-Teller in hand as he approached the broken door. His shadows creeped up before him, scouting the cottage for danger. They came back and whispered of a harmless woman. ‘It’s her’ they hissed and a shudder crept up Azriel’s spine from the implication.

He felt the knot in his stomach tightening as he creeped closer, stopping at the threshold.

“Hello?” A timid voice asked.

Azriel didn’t dare to breathe, the knot in his stomach pulling him, urging him to enter the cottage.

“I know you’re out there!” A smirk grew on his lips as he heard the cluttering of utensils. “I have a knife!”

Azriel’s fingertips touched the rotted door just as Rhysands voice asked him to come back home. Azriel backed away with a sigh, his chest heavy as he traveled back to Velaris.

.･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙ .･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙

Every night the Shadowsinger visited your cottage, hidden in the shadows, simply keeping an eye on you, despite having never seen you before. His shadows always reminded him the moment he stood before your door, ‘mate, mate, mate!’ They hissed.

He kept you a secret, kept you as his nightly routine, until the war with Hybern.

You felt off one night. The tug in your stomach wasn’t urging you to venture outside into the dark. The dark which wasn’t as scary as the other type of darkness surrounding it. But you knew better than to go outside. And then the darkness disappeared for a while, leaving the scary dark to keep you company until dawn.

You didn’t have anyone to talk to about it–something that tore into your chest as pressure built up each and every day. So you resorted to telling your crops.

‘It’s weird,” you muttered as you brushed away the colorful leaves and tugged away the weed. “I fear I am losing my mind, imagine that,” you laughed. “Missing darkness. It’s probably a being trying to lure me, and I’m finding myself missing it.”

“I apologize if I made you fear me.” A dark voice spoke. Azriel.

You jumped, your hand grabbing your gardening trowel to defend yourself. You stopped short as your eyes connected with his hazel ones. The tug in your stomach grew stronger as you stared at the man before you, an Illyrian, you realized.

His membrane wings tucked tightly behind him. And shadows covered his skin as he stared at you with a sheepish smile. “Once again, I apologize.”

“Oh!” You could only stare at him, not minding the voice in your head chastising you for being rude. “I-Uhm, I-“ You stuttered.

You stood up quickly, too quickly as the ground below you felt like gentle waves. Warm calloused hands took a hold of your arms to steady you. “Careful.” He murmured, his shadows escaping his grasp to caress your skin, cool caresses that sent shivers down your spine. His hands were a stark contrast to his shadows.

‘Mate, mate, mate!’ They hissed in his ears. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Oh-I’m so sorry,” you felt yourself flush, your face burning in embarrassment. “I’ve been kneeling for hours–I should know better than standing too fast.” You chuckled awkwardly, trying not to think about how the man in front of you hasn't let you go.

“I’m Azriel.” He spoke quickly though quietly. His eyes staring into yours. He looked like a painting coming to life. His ink black hair shining despite his shadows doing the opposite.

You clumsily introduced yourself. Your tongue felt foreign in your mouth as you understood who stood before you. Yet fear wasn’t what you felt. Instead the tugging in your stomach roared and instinctively your hand raised itself to settle on his chest. His chest was firm, though he wasn’t wearing any armor. He wore a black blouse with trousers and boots; a simple attire for the most beautiful man you’ve seen in your 247 years of living.

Azriel took a deep breath in from your touch. You both know what this meant. Azriel didn’t doubt the cauldron this time as he had when Elain had mated with Lucien. This time it felt like a puzzle as he took you in.

Tattered dress with different patches of patterns sewn in here or there. Your hands were encased with dirt and a smudge of it had found its way to your cheek.

You were the most beautiful female he had ever seen.

A smile grew on his lips as he watched you squirm, your hand leaving his chest as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Are we-“ you cleared your throat, not meeting his eyes. “Are we mates?” You wanted to bolt the moment the words escaped your mouth. What if he wasn’t, and you were perhaps getting sick. You didn’t know the difference.

No one alive in your family had met their mates. And your father had told you countless times how dense you were. ‘She wouldn’t know the difference between a horse and a mule’.

A deep sigh left Azriel’s lips as he stared you down. “Yes, we are.”

The foreign feeling of pure joy grew in your chest as you took in his words. “Really?”

He let out a soft laugh. “Yes, I am yours and you are mine, if you’ll have me of course.” He bowed his head slightly and put on a gentle and genuine smile though his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

“I-of course, but if I could suggest, can we get to know each other first, as friends?” You asked timidly. You knew your mother was betrothed to your brute father, a marriage where she was nowhere his equal.

His view on females was that of a monster. ‘Females shall not speak until spoken directly to!’ He always screamed in your ear when you were a small child.

Azriel himself softened, his shoulder relaxing further. He thanked the mother and cauldron for your suggestion, not wanting it any other way.

“Of course, my love.” He smiled before glancing behind you to look at your cottage. He found it charming, and he could see the personality of his mate shining through, despite the rotting wood and broken windows. You had made this your home despite. He found himself admiring you now even more.

He stretched out his hand to you. “Would you like to see my home?” He felt vulnerable for the first time in a very long time. He could almost hear Cassian snorting at him.

You took his hand in yours, relishing the feel of him–your mate. Undoubtedly yours, two souls made to fit.

“Of course, you’ve seen mine, it’s only fair I see yours.” You joked and laughed when he did.

“Then shall we?” He gestured towards the overgrown path leading into the woods, his gesture a promise of a better future.

“We shall.”

snip snap snut så va sagoberättelsen slut :)

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 7

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Rhys and Reader get into an argument that leads to a moment Under the mountain that Y/N would rather forget. And when things don't go as planned at the prison, Y/N must confront her sister after learning just how much Feyre was suffering.

Content Warnings: our FMC being put on a leash (Literally), mentions of abuse potential abuse to children (there is none! just the idea is brought up) , mentions of suicidal ideation, Nightmares, angst

Word Count: 6.5K

Masterlist Chapter 6

Unwavering Masterlist

After finishing the awkward dinner, I made my way to my room and changed out of my dress and put on my silk pajamas sighing at the comfort. Cassian had walked me to my room in silence though his pinky was still entwined in mine and when he dropped me off, he murmured a good night and kissed my hand before heading to bed. His lips against my skin, caused heat to rise in my cheeks and I found myself quickly hiding in my room trying to settle the butterflies in my stomach.

I walked over to my desk and grabbed my journal from my cloak pocket, ever since Cassian bought it, it has been on my person I never leave it. I took a seat and was about ready to write when there was a knock on my door, “Come in.” Rhys walked in.

He leaned against the door, crossing his arms and his ankles leaning against the dark ornate wood. “Did you have to be so hard on her?”

I closed my notebook and let my fingers graze the leather the indents of the ivy engraved in the leather, and finally meeting is eyes, “She’s acting like a child.” She crossed her arms, “She was also extremely rude, and you and your family didn’t deserve that.”

Rhys smirked, and tilted his head, “You know we have been around a long time we can handle ourselves.”

I shrugged and crossed my legs on the bench. “Just because you can doesn’t mean that a friend can’t come to your defense.” I bit my lip, “Even when she feels guilty of her previous behavior to you and is super apologetic.”

Rhys crinkled his nose and made his face so youthful, something I noticed I didn’t see much under the mountain, and I giggled, and confusion fell over the high lord’s features, “What?”

My giggles softened and I gave him a smile, “I enjoy seeing you outside Amarantha.” I could see him physically restrain himself from wincing at her name, but I continued as I stood and made my way to him, “You look so free. Youthful even.”

Rhys smiled, “Well aren’t you sweet,” He opened his arm and I slid into his side as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders pulling me close. “Feyre and I are heading to the prison tomorrow.” I must have had a confused look on my face because he continued, “The prison is where we keep some of the most ancient and vile fae and magical beings. Under a mountain at the edge of Night Court border.”

I meet his violet eyes, “Rhysand, you’re taking her under another mountain.” His lips were a tight line. “What is in there that is so important?”

Rhys remained silent for a moment, “I wouldn’t ask her if I didn’t think the answer, we could find there were important.” Rhys eyes hardened, “The information wouldn’t tip the scales in our favor for the impending war.”

I scooted out of his grasp and his gaze softened. “Why Feyre?”

“The inmate we would be seeing won’t talk to me, but will talk to Feyre Cursebreaker, that I have no doubt about.”

I Internally cringed at the title, tampering that unprecedented jealousy, the title proved she was important in Prythian’s history. Further proved that I was not. Clearing my throat I asked, “She’s okay with it?”

He nodded, “You are an important part of our history too you know?”

I stood up and turned my back to him checking and grumbled, “Get out of my head, High Lord.”

“Your shields are solid, Angel, you wear your heart on your sleeve.” I turned and scowled at him which only caused him to chuckle, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Feyre may have broken the curse, but no one in that ballroom will easily forget about the human girl who stood in front of those two Fae children and took their punishment for them.”

My heart stopped as the sound of fabric ripping echoed the cavern hall. Amarantha with lethal calm turned to see two small fae girls frozen in place with fear. Their hands clasped together. Terror exploded on their features. Amarantha’s smile was sinister, as she steps down from the dais, “What did you two do?” My gaze drifts to my sister who is on Rhysand’s lap head laying on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as her eyes drift close, probably the effects of the fae wine taking hold of her as Rhysand sipped from his own cup. He had since given up forcing me to drink it after I spit it out on his shoes. Though Feyre doesn’t remember  

Turning back to the young girls as Amarantha was waiting for them to answer the two simply trembled in response a puddle was forming under one of them and my heart broke. The longer the two girls remained silent the irater Amarantha became “You two ingrates ruined my dress! You should haven’t been that close to royalty. Clearly your useless parents didn’t teach you respect. So, allow me.”

Her hand raised up and my feet moved before I could think about what I was doing and suddenly I pulled the girls behind me before Amarantha’s hand collided with my cheek. The girls screamed but I turned to them, “It’s okay. Go find your mother. Wipe your tears and hold your head high.” The girls both did and lifted their chin as they briskly walked to their mother, and I turned to the seething fae female before me.

“You had no right-“

I interrupted her my chin high, “They are children. What they did was an accident. If a punishment must be implemented, I will take it in their place.”

Amarantha eyes flared her stare made me shift the sheer red fabric that shifts to orange at the bottom covering very little of my body moved with my fidgeting. Her eyes then moved to find those two girls, she found them cowering in the arms of their mother, “The cauldron has blessed you both. You should be grateful.” She takes a step forward and her finger touches one end of my collar bone and slides to the other side smearing the paint Rhys’ wraiths painted on me. “Y/N Archeron, twin sister of Feyre.” She circles me like predator waiting for the kill. She stands behind me, her nail grazing the fabric on my shoulder, I fought off a shutter as she faced me again, “You’re a pretty little thing, for human filth. Bold too. Interrupting me not only during my punishment but as I was speaking too.” She tsks as the hand that provided false gentleness collided with my cheek once more her nails scraping skin. She gripped my chin and forced me to look at her, “A foolish human girl, who risked her life for two fae children. What a silly thing to do.”

“Children human or otherwise-“

Faster than a blink a piece of Amarantha’s dress was torn from the dress and shoved into my mouth she worked on getting another stripped around my wrist. “I grow tired of you speaking, girl.” She cinches the fabric against my wrist tightly causing me to shriek in pain. She turned me to face her again and she smiled, “Much better. "Now the question is, what to do for your punishment?”

I tested my binds, and she pressed me to your back. “Hmm I think your punishment will be someone else’s reward.” She looked out into the crowd and I allowed myself to look at Rhysand and my sister. The High Lord’s face revealed nothing but there was a prickle in my mind and his voice filtered in my head,

Breathe. I’m sorry Y/N, I cannot help you.

In the hopes he could hear me, those girls didn’t deserve to see the cruelties of this world just yet. Try to keep their innocence.

To my surprised he gave a curt nod before he drank the rest of his wine and Amarantha’s voice bellowed through the hall, “Eris Vanserra, please step forward.”

I looked out for Lucien and saw his face frown as his eldest brother stepped forward. The male was handsome his tan skin and gold eyes were warm but hardened. Amarantha pushed me forward and I whimpered muffled through the gag as she forced me to my knees, and she gripped the back of my head pressing down until my forehead hit the floor. “Stay there, Pet. Until he tells you otherwise, “her slim hands left my body as she spoke to the eldest brother, “You have done exceptional work, and it has not gone unnoticed. There was a long pause, “As a treat, one of the Archeron twins to use however, you please. You can deposit her in her cell in the morning.”

“Thank you, My Queen. Your gift is beyond gracious. I am truly humbled.” My heartrate spiked, and I tried to shift pain racking in my knees.

Breathe. Through your nose.  Rhys’ voice instructed and I followed his instruction.

A calloused hand hoisted me up to my feet and I looked up to find Eris smirking at me. “I don’t think the gag is necessary don’t you.” I nodded, “Open, Love.” I opened my mouth, and he removed the fabric from my mouth.  I coughed, and he tipped my chin up to face him, and he gave me a cold smile as his toned arm wrapped around my waist, undoing the binds, “I don’t think you need this either. and pulled me close, his breath warm on my ear. The smell of an autumn day filled my nostrils. He whispered low enough that no one could hear, "Y/N Archeron, let’s give them a good performance. Keep your face neutral and do everything I say."

He gripped me tightly, and a gasp escaped my lips as my chest was flushed to his, his lips kissed my ear, “We must make it believable, Love. Say ‘Yes Master’ if you understand.”

“Yes Master.”

He growled in my ear his hand gripped my skin tightly, “Good Girl,” He slapped the bare area of my ass causing me to yelp. He waves his hand and flames circled around my neck, the end of the flame in Eris hands. “Let us do a lap, pet and then we go to bed.” He yanked my leash pulling me closer to him, “Let’s start with thanking the High Lord of the Night Court for dressing you in Autumn Colors.” He looked at me expectantly.

I take in a deep breath, “Yes Master.”

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, “Good Girl.”

Rhysand snapped his finger in my face. Worry written on his features stars were banked out. “What did he do to you, Angel?”

I feign ignorance, “Who?”

Rhys gave me a knowing look, “You know who. Don’t play dumb.”

I rolled my eyes, “Nothing happened worth talking about.”

Rhys growled anger morphing into his face, “I saw his intentions, If he touch-“

I rubbed my temples and groaned, “Fuck No.” I looked at him anger boiling, “I don’t talk about it because he asked me not to.”

Rhys blinked taken aback, “Why protect him?” he crossed his arms.

I gritted my teeth, “Stop pushing.” I walked over to my door and opened it, “Take care of my sister tomorrow. Good night.”

Rhys sighs as he stood and walked over to me. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just saying you were just as brave and just as much a victim there as Feyre. Talking about it could be helpful.”

I gave him a hard stare, “I know, Rhys. I appreciate you keeping that door open. I do. You don’t know what happened that night. But trust me when I say that nothing happened that night that I mean it.”

Rhys clenched his fist, “Eris is a monster.”

I bite my lip, “Well, people could and have said the same about you. Yet I trusted you. Good night, Rhysand.” I slammed the door before he could get another word in and locked the door.

I couldn’t sleep that night; I kept tossing and turning. Flashes of Under the Mountain and Amarantha, The wyrm, and those girls, forcing their way into my dreams that I began to sweat. I pulled off my covers and wandered to the family library.

 I rubbed my eyes as I walked in and found Cassian sitting in the chair, a glass in his hand staring at the fire. He was wearing black silk lounge pants and a lounge shirt that hugged his taught muscles his wings relaxed but sprawled slightly, his ebony locks up in a bun. I tried to back away before he could catch me, “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”  I sighed as his warm eyes met mine, he patted the chair next to him, “Come on, Princess, talk to me.”

I dragged my feet over there and plopped on a chair, “Rhys and I got into an argument.”

Cassian nodded and handed me a glass. I took it and tried to ignore the feeling in my chest when our fingers touched. “Want to talk about it?”

I took a sip letting the burn of alcohol ease down my throat and looked at the fire. “Something that happened when we were Under the Mountain. I don’t want to go into details. He just assumes one thing happened and when it didn’t.”

His hummed, “Would it be about what happened when you saved those girls?”

I turned my head to him, “You know about that?”

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Sweetheart, a human girl put her life on the line to save to fae children from getting harmed. Rhys may have told me when he got home, because he had never met anyone, a human no less, defend a child while being under there. But when the curse was lifted, everyone brought up about your bravery.”

I bit my lip, “It was an accident they didn’t deserve whatever cruel punishment Amarantha was going to endure. Anyone would have done that.”

Calloused fingers moved my face to meet his eyes slight ire there, “No, Princess, they wouldn’t. They should but they wouldn’t. Especially if that meant you were Eris’ pet for the evening.”

I groaned pulling away from his touch and taking my drink, slamming the rest of the contents in my mouth. “Not you too.”

“He’s dangerous from what Rhys said he had you in a collar on a leash.”

I gritted my teeth, “Drop it, Cassian.”

He sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time he did something heinous, have you talked to Mor about this?”

“No and I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You should than you would understand Rhys’ concern-“

I stood up, slamming the glass on the table, “He took me to his room, gave me his jacket to wear, and let me sleep on his bed while he slept in the chair. Is that what you want to hear? Because that’s what fucking happened, Cassian. He didn’t hurt me; he didn’t touch me past having a hand on my back. He let me have a good night’s rest. That’s. it.”

Cassian blinked, “The collar. The leash made of fire; Rhys said you had burns.”

“Amarantha had expectations, we met them.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not saying he’s perfect or not a piece of shit. I’m saying that on that evening specifically, he didn’t do a damn thing to me.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed and his lips formed a tight line, contemplating. “Fine, so he didn’t hurt you or force you to do anything why not tell Rhys that?”

“Because Eris asked me not to tell anyone what happened that night and I wanted to honor that not because I wanted to protect him but because I owed him. And given the look you’re giving me. I don’t think he would believe me either.” I bowed my head, “Goodnight, General.”

 I turned only for a hand to circle my wrist, “I believe you, Princess.” I faced him, he rose from is seat and his face held no trace of humor, his form towering over me. “I believe you, and he would to, but I know there is more you’re not telling me.”

“I am.” I didn’t bother hiding it. “But anything past what I already told you is not my story to tell. I hope you can respect that I won’t share it.”

Cassian nodded, “I understand.”

I took my free hand into his, “Why are you awake?”

Cassian sat back down and smirked, “What keeps anyone from sleeping, Princess?”

I blinked surprised by the question I asked when we first met, “Nightmares...”

I released his hand and noticed he flexed his fingers like he yearned for my touch as I sat on the chair across from him. “Yeah, I don’t get them often, but when I do, they’re…realistic enough to keep me awake.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, his face looked haunted.

“No.” He gave me a small smile, “But thank you for the offer, you should try to go to sleep.”

“You should as well.”

“I’m going to have a hard time falling asleep.” He retorted.

“Me too.”

He chuckled and I stood and held out my hand. “Come on, General.”

Cassian placed his hand in mine and tugged indicating I wanted him up, he stood, his wings rustling. I led him over to the couch and sat patting my lap. “Sweetheart, I would squish you if I sat on your lap.”

“Is it a requirement that to be in this court you have to be a smart ass? I want you to lay your head on my lap, Darling.” His stunned look told me no one has ever given him a pet name before, but he slowly sits and adjusts his wings in a position that is comfortable but won’t hurt me and finally he lays his head down on my lap. His eyes look up to mine and I smile as I pull the tie that is keeping his hair bound.

“What are you doing?”

I smiled, as thoughts from the week before coming to my mind, “I know when I’m not going to win a battle, General.” I wink at him, “I’m compromising.” His eyes twinkle in recognition of my words. He turns his head as I begin running my fingers through his hair he sighs in contentment. “Close your eyes, Cassian.” I watched his lids flutter shut and his breathing deepening as I kept weaving my fingers through his hair and I started to hum a lullaby and in seconds the General was asleep on my lap, and I leaned my head back as the smell of him calmed me and my eyes grew heavy and with my hand through his hair. I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Cassian’s POV

I woke up to the sun illuminating behind my eye lids. Though I realized I’m not in my room but the library. The memory of the night before came back to me. I shifted to find Y/N sleeping, her head leaning against the bookshelf. I gently sat up careful not to disturb her, but she stirred as I moved into a seated position. Her eyes lit up by the morning sky coming in from the window. Even as she woke, she was radiant like a gift from the mother herself. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” She mumbled as she tried to blink away the sleepiness from her eyes.

I smiled, “Yeah, Princess, did you? I’m sorry you fell asleep sitting up.”

She waved me off as she took the hair bind, I used to tie my hair and placed her hair in a bun few strands framing her face. Beautiful. “I have had to sleep in worse conditions than this. I just wanted to make sure you got sleep.” Another yawn from her. I stood up and stretched my sore wings.

I grinned at her, and she gave me a lazy smile back, “Thank you, Princess,” I held out my hand to her, “Let’s get you some breakfast,” she slipped her hand in mine, and it was dwarfed in mine and had tiny callouses from hunting, fighting, and training. I help her up and I go to release her hand, but she keeps a hold of mine as we exit the library and head toward the dining room. “Sweetheart, don’t you want to get dressed?”

“No, I want to eat.” She paused and looked at our hands and let go missing her warmth in my palm in an instant, “I’m sorry if you want to-“

I held my hand up, “Not at all, lead the way, Archeron.”

There was a glint in her eyes and her smile was mischievous, “Last one to the dining room has to do 50 pushups at training today.” Before I can respond to her challenge she bolts. I chuckled and waited about a minute before I chased after her. It only took me a couple of strides to catch up with her and past her, “No!” She huffed as I reached the double doors, opening for me and skidded to a halt barely winded as Y/N got there and placed her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “Stupid fae speed.”

I laughed and ruffled her hair, and she swatted at me, “Maybe next time I will let you win. However, you owe me 50 pushups.” She groaned, and I placed a hand on her back and led her to the chair where food appeared on her chair. Only then acknowledging the short black haired fae who quirked her brow. “Morning, Tiny one.” Amren glared at me, and I grinned, “She challenged me to a race and lost.” I explained.

Amren snorted sipping her goblet, “Girl, if you are going to survive here, you have to pick and choose your battles properly.”

Y/N stabbed my eggs, “I thought I had a chance.”

Before I could counter Rhys and Feyre winnowed in, Feyre stormed out of the dining room ignoring everyone including her sister. I could see the pain in Y/N’s face as she looked over to my brother. “We need to talk, Y/N.” His face was stony, and I could see the light dim in Y/N’s eyes as she shrunk in her seat.

Rhysand walked over to her and held out his arm. Y/N pushed the plate away, not being able to get a bite and making a note to make sure she ate before we trained. She stood and walked past him ignoring his arm and heading out into the hall.

Rhysand.

My brother paused as I sent my thoughts to his mind. What?

Apologize to her, she told me what happened with Eris. He let her sleep and get a good’s night sleep. That’s it.

You believe her?

I growled at him, Yes. As should you. She has never given you a reason not to believe her.

Rhys gave a nod still not facing me as he walked from the room. Before leaving completely he whispered in my mind She might need you in a few minutes.

I looked to Amren to find her looking at me with her scrutinizing gaze. “What?”

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked her as she took another sip of her goblet.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She looked at the door that Rhys and Y/N walked through, “She’s a force even for a mere human. Willing to stand up to her own blood for Fae she doesn’t know well.”

I smiled, “She’s got a warrior’s heart. Someone just needs to remind her that she doesn’t need to take care of everyone else, that she should take care of herself.”

“Hmm someone like the General of the Night Court’s armies?” Amren questioned her red lips quirked up a bit.

I took a bite of my food, ignoring her inquiry, “Mind your business.”

Reader POV

Rhys walked out of the dining room after having a conversation with Cassian and Amren. My mood had quickly shifted with Feyre looking upset and the hard look Rhys gave me after our argument last night. “Follow me.” He led us up to his study, I shut the door behind me and leaned against the door as he sat in the chair behind his desk.

The room had various paintings of maps of not only Prythian but constellations of the night sky, and on a desk flushed against the wall was a model with all the planets. “Please make yourself comfortable.” His voice was formal not teasing like he was the day before. I didn’t move, He looked up and my feelings of his behavior changed must have been apparent on my face as Rhys sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “I owe you an apology.” I bit my lip and looked at my feet. “I should have dropped the Eris subject last night when you asked.”

I looked at him a steeliness in my tone, “Yes you should have.” He flinched, I walked toward him and sat across from him holding out my hand. “Let me show you.”

Rhys shook his head, “Y/N you don-“

“Rhys just shut up and do it.” He nodded and took my hand and I let him into my mind and showed him Eris giving me his tunic, him tucking me into bed, and him sitting on the chair, eyes watching me as I fell asleep. I broke off the connection. “I wouldn’t lie, Rhys.”

Rhys nodded, “I know, which is why I want to apologize.” He walked around the desk and knelt in front of me. “I’m sorry for pushing. I’m sorry for not believing you. I will spend so many days being sorry so long as you stop looking at me like I am stranger and just your High Lord and not your friend.”

I gave him a smile and I wrapped my arms around him, “All is forgiven, unless you did something to make Feyre so upset. Then I’m kicking your ass.”

He laughed, but his face grew solemn, “Y/N, she needs you.” My forehead creased, “She never went into the prison today she got scared, that wasn’t her fault, but Y/N, I need you to understand just how not well she’s doing.”

I meet his violet eyes his stars gone, “Show me.”

Rhys gripped the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mind as I let him in and flashes of her throwing up the night before from the nightmares Her screams echoing the halls, Rhys comforting her. He flashes me to the week I hid myself after she accused me of abandoning her and she tells Rhys how nice it would feel to die, and I felt my chest tighten. Rhysand immediately talking her out of that headspace. Her gaunt haunted face through Rhysand’s eyes.

His claws released my mind, but Rhys held me close as tears and panic rose through me. “Y/N, it’s not your fault.”

“She wants to die. How did I not feel that? How did I miss it? I’m a terrible sister.” My voice barely above a whisper as the images whirl around my brain a never ending loop of Feyre’s pain.

Rhys grips my neck tightly, “Stop it.” I met his gaze as he pulls his face away from mine, “Stop beating yourself up. You didn’t know.”

“BUT I SHOULD HAVE!” I erupted causing Rhys to jump back, “I was so mad! I couldn’t even look at her only to find out she has been hating herself.” I stood and began to pace, “I promised my mom that I would take care of her. But I let her go out into the forest only going out with her scarcely, I let Tamlin sink his teeth into her with his sweet words, and soft touches. I let her think I abandoned her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, please calm down.” Rhys tried to grab my shoulder and I shook him off.

My breathing became short and erratic, “What if she would have taken her life when Tamlin kicked me out of his court. What if she did it and I never apologized.” I rubbed my hand on my chest, “It would have been my fault. Oh gods.” Breathing became difficult and my hearing muffled I didn’t even notice the door open. Strong arms wrapped around me and flushed up against a strong toned chest the smell of leather and sandalwood surrounded me. I leaned my head back as tears flowed freely.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Cassian whispered in my ear, he pressed his lips to the top of my ear. He led me to the couch to sit and he lightly bended my head in between my knees. “Inhale,” he commanded his voice not that of a general, but I couldn’t place the gentle yet firm tone in it, and I take a breath, “hold it,” I did for a moment, “Exhale slowly,” He exhaled with me his hand rubbing circles around my back. “That’s my girl, again,” He guided me through some deep breaths, and I began to calm down.  I slowly sat up and I met his Hazel eyes his hand continued to rub my back, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I whispered.

“You okay?” I nodded and gripped my chin, “I need you to say it, baby.”

“I’m okay.” I murmured, I leaned my head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. We’re not training today.” I tried to protest but before I could open my mouth he said, “Don’t fight with me. You need to take it easy, and by the sounds of it you need to have a talk with your sister.”

I lifted my head, “Okay.” I looked at Rhys, “I’m sor-“

Rhys growled, “Do not apologize for letting your feelings out.” He kissed the top of my head, “You’re scared for your sister and want to take her pain away. I understand. I had a feeling this might happen due to how much you love her. But don’t apologize for feeling these feelings, okay?”

I sniffled, Cassian’s hand grounding me, “Even if I was a contributing factor to her pain.”

“She doesn’t see it that way. When we were outside the prison, she wished you were there. That doesn’t sound like someone who is contributing to her pain.” Rhys said. “Stay here for as long as you need.” Rhys walked away and shut the door the soft clicking felt loud against my ears.

“You don’t need to stay here, Cass,” I said as I straightened my back.

He laughed, “I’m not going anywhere, unless you ask me to. Would you like me to leave?” I bit my lip debating being honest and eventually I just shook my head. “Then I stay.” And we sat like that for a few hours with him rubbing soothingly on my back as my forehead leaned against his shoulder.

When I was finally calm, I parted ways with Cassian, kissing him on the cheek in thanks for once again taking care of me. I could have sworn I saw him blush as he turned and left for his room, but he was gone before I could assess further.

***

Then I changed and found myself outside Feyre’s door, my hand hovering over the wooden panel to knock. Before I could I just hear her go, “Come in, Y/N,”

I opened her door to find scribbling on parchment. I walked in closer and noticed she wasn’t scribbling, she was drawing. Which means she was itching to paint again. She smiled, “I could hear your heartbeat skyrocket in front of my door.

I swallowed the lump down my throat as she put her sketch to the side and faced me.

“I’m sorry.” We both said at the same time we both blinked at each other before we began to laugh.

She got up and pulled me in a bone crushing hug that I returned. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for leaving. I know you wouldn’t have gone willingly. I was just so relieved, hurt and scared that when I saw you I just.”

“Let your inner Nesta out and said things you knew would hurt.” She nodded as she sat back on the bed dragging me with her. “I get it Fey, and I need to apologize to you for my outburst yesterday. I may have been out of line.”

Feyre shook her head, “You weren’t. I was being unfair to them. I meant what I said though.” I frowned, “You seem happier here. Less on edge.”

I nodded my head in agreement, “I am happy.” I smiled and squeezed her hand, “You could be happy here too. They are good Fae either way they are kind, and generous and I think we could fit right in. If you’re open.”

She gave me a small tentative smile, “I can see myself getting to place here. Rhys is not what I expected. He is kind, patient, and sweet.”

I smirked and looked at my nail, “Handsome, charming, alluring,” Feyre shoved me playfully, as I felt what must have been the equivalent to laughter down our bond.

“I mean he is all those things too, but I should have listened to you when you told me to give him a chance.”

“Yeah, probably, but we can’t change the past. We can only move forward, and maybe that starts with us being able to talk again.” I extended the olive branch.

“I would love nothing more, Y/N. I know I have pushed you away, but I have been feeling so lonely and isolated. I want you around.” She looked down at her hands, “I need you around.”

I grabbed her hands and gave them a squeeze, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Until my heart stops beating. You’re my sister. I will always be there for you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she gripped me in a hug as she sobbed in my shoulder, “I wanted to die.”

I didn’t realize my own tears were falling as I gripped her tightly back, “I know.”

 “I don’t how to heal from this.” She whispered.

“We’ll figure it out, together.” I retorted.

“You swear?”

“I swear.” We both hissed as light flashed between us and designs of swirls and two hearts intertwining revealed itself on Feyre’s collarbone, her eyes widened when I moved my tunic shirt to see the same design. “Well, I guess you and I have a bargain, Fey.”

I pulled her back into me for another hug, and we stayed like that for a while, nothing but the crackling of the fire. Staring at the fire my brain led me to that night with Eris.

Eris paraded me around the ballroom keeping me on a short leash as his hand sprawled on my back. He reached the Dais where Amarantha and Tamlin stood, his eyes flicked to me and I could have sworn there was a flicker of a smirk was on his face but it was gone as quickly as it was there. “My queen, I would like to retire with my pet at your approval of course.”

Amarantha should me a glare and I just bow my head avoiding her gaze, “Yes get her out of my sight. Enjoy your reward.”

With a tug of the leash, he walked me out and I had chance to glance at Rhysand who was holding on to a dancing drunken Feyre. When we walked down the hall past the sentries Eris removes the leash and collar of flame and holds out his hand. I hesitated to take it and Eris clicked his tongue, “You attempt to flee, my little ember, and I will make sure you are bound to the point of uselessness.”

My hand finds his and finds they are surprisingly warm. He leads me to his chamber and finds that despite it being in the mountain it looks like it could be a room in a castle. Eris walks in and begins to unbutton his jacket and I tense, fear of what he has planned, He looked at me clearly sensing my fear. Not easing my fears, Eris shook off the jacket and walked over holding it out expecting me to put my arms through. Confusion fell upon me as I slowly moved and slid my arms in the jacket. He pulled me close causing me to gasped and he chuckled in response as he buttoned up the jacket, “There better?”

I nodded, the Autumn Court Prince gripped my arms and led me to the large bed on the side of the room near the fireplace, “Sleep.” He ordered and I crossed my arms. He looked at me expectantly and rolled his eyes and with a wave of his hand my dress was gone and so was the paint. My body was cleaned, the only thing keeping me covered was his jacket.

I bit my lip and I sighed, “That’s all you want me to do sleep?” I regretted asking the question.

His eyes flashed with rage, “What? Expect me to want to ravish you. To hear you cry and beg me to stop when I force myself upon you?” I flinched and looked at the ground. “I like my women consenting and moaning in pleasure not whimpering in fear. Only low bottom feeders get off on such a cruel act. My father being one of them.” He stilled and my head shot up at the admission he gave.

“Does he do that with your mother?” I asked clearly not worried about my well being.

“I would NEVER let him do something so heinous to her.” He snarled and I held my hands up in surrender.

“I meant no ill will toward the question.” He relaxed his shoulders, “You don’t like your father?”

He smiled and the expression was cold and cruel, “Do you like yours Y/N Archeron?”

I crossed my arms and looked away from his eyes. “No, I don’t” I answered.

If Eris was shocked by my honesty he didn’t let on. “Then it looks like you and I have something in common,” He had gotten close to me enough his body was radiating heat and gripped my chin, “Now go to sleep, My Little Ember.”

“What’s in it for you? For holding me here as your pet for the night?” I asked.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, “You’re a mortal. I should hate you. But I’m vowing you to secrecy, you will not tell a soul, do you understand?”

I nodded my head, “Yes.” He quirked a brow waiting, and I rolled my eyes, “Yes, Master.”

He smiled and kissed my head and I grumbled at the gesture. “Good,” he said, and he leaned in and whispered in my ear and my eyes went wide. He pulled away and patted my cheek, “Now go to sleep pet,” He sat at the chair and opened a book.

I moved to the bed and found sleep the moment my head hit the pillow. It was reckless to sleep with someone as dangerous as Eris near me, but I couldn’t fight the comfort of the bed, the warmth of the fire and exhaustion in my bones. My thoughts swirling of Eris’s plan to become High Lord of Autumn Court.

Chapter 8

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part I)

Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1,536.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Notes: As soon as I saw him my feminism left my body immediately and my inner voice agreed that I'd let him take away my human rights with no question. He's an absolute idiot, would sleep with him 100%.

Heads up as English is not my native language sooo, yeah you know what follows. Lord pls give me inspo to finish this fic, amen.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part I: For The Common Good

Two months.

Two months ago Grace Mallory decided to put the former greatest supe into sleep. Somehow, you managed to get in her head, explaining your new project to her and finding a new use for Soldier Boy, who had enough rest for 40 years.

You knew what happened at the Seven Tower, how Soldier Boy and Butcher's team ended up there to finally kill Homelander. Grace tried doing some shit against Vought before, but she never managed to win. It wasn't different this time. What was better then, that to develop a cure for supes like you, who didn't ask for it? People who never used their powers in public, nor seeked fame and money.

As a doctor in Chemistry, you were developing a cure for Compound V with a secret team. Suitable for you, you were in the same CIA tower Colonel Mallory decided to encapsulate Soldier Boy to, initially, spend the rest of his days in. You had luck Grace gave green light to the project, even though your team was already working on it without her approval anyway. But it was so much better if she found out properly.

Making your way to the super secured wing where Soldier Boy was held out of his sleep, you gripped the folder in your hands. You were scanned thoroughly before going inside a cold space, where two different crystal windows and metal doors separated the place. The armed guard guided you to the first room to check first through the window. You sighed, seeing a man sitting down, hands cuffed to a harsh steel table, gaze lost. It was him.

"The keys," you requested the guard by your side.

"Doctor-"

"I said, keys. He doesn't need to be cuffed."

He complied to your order, clearly annoyed but with a straight face and you walked to the closed door.

"If something happens, I can take care of myself. Don't let anyone inside understand?" you said.

He gave a nod. With that, he let you inside the room, the doors closing behind your back.

The prisoner observed you carefully as soon as you entered. His gaze was tired, but he seemed ready to attack, and it was completely hard to ignore his rough stare on you as you made your way to your seat in front of him. Soldier Boy observed you, placing the folder on the surface, and you held his gaze, not flinching for a second. Until you decided to talk first.

"I am glad you're awake. My name is Y/N, I am a doctor at the facility. Just wanna know how you're doing today," you spoke in a calm and soft way, so he could see you were not a threat.

He saw you roaming through the pages of the file, which he recognized as a copy of his file, and you took a pen from your lab coat to make some anotations.

"Not a smart move to let a fucking doctor here," he said with a deep voice, lips forming a straight line. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Cut the bullshit."

"I want to talk. If you let me, I will uncuff you so we can have a chat, like civilized people. Just don't try to escape, you won't go too far."

He raised an eyebrow as you reached his wrists and carefully, you set him free from the metal grip.

"I know what happened with Butcher and his boys," you said, confident that he would not try anything else. "About Homelander and your relationship with him."

"What the fuck do you know?" Soldier Boy tensed visibly hearing the name of the bastard. Still, he remained on his seat. "Want some info? You can lick Grace's pussy for that."

"She is, actually, the one who approved me to be here right now," you answered, brushing off his vocabulary. You used to deal with assholes like him all the time.

He scoffed. "Why?"

"Ben," you called his real name softly. "You've been sleeping for four decades. You deserve a second chance, I am offering you that. In some sort of way."

"I'm not going to be part of that freakshow-"

"This has nothing to do with Vought," you cut his words, his tone rising and you knew perfectly why. "You just need to be here in the facility, awake, in a dignified place we will give you so you can learn everything you missed. We can give you therapy, a comfy room, anything you want that's legal, of course..."

His jaw clenched, feeling you would ask for something more. "In exchange of what?"

"I know it's hard, unfortunately you won't be able to get out, but you don't deserve to sleep forever again," you sighed. "I will pay you visits and follow your improvements because you're human, after all. That's all I ask from you," you gave him a smile for the first time.

For a few moments, he said nothing, as if making up his mind about it. "Alright, anything but coming back to that shit hole. I need reefer though."

"Lucky you, that's legal now. We can certainly make it happen."

He looked around the room as you let him go inside first. Not the fanciest, not the shittiest. It had the basics: a bed, a sofa, a TV, a closet, a bookshelf with different books, magazines and newspapers he wasn't sure would read any time, a separate door for a bathroom, enough privacy, and no windows though. It wasn't really a cell, but he did look and felt somehow like a hostage. Just a little less if he could say.

"This is what we have for now, I am all ears if you request something else to have in here," you began as he paced around and tested the bed, sitting down on the mattress.

Ben still wasn't convinced on why you offered this to him. Sceptic, he gave a good look at you, roaming his eyes at your standing figure in a fucking lab coat. Christ, he hated those. Too pretty for a doctor, but too dumb to be locked with a supe like him. He was so tired that he didn't try and hit on you like he normally would with any walking pussy that appeared in plain sight. He was too exhausted to even give a shit.

"Lemme think about it, doctor."

"Of course, take your time," you replied as he walked toward the bookshelf, scanning through the titles there were. He recognized only half of them.

"So, I will be imprisoned here instead of a fucking eggshell," Ben said, turning around to meet you. "Charming," he smirked, dragging the words out of his mouth. "Doing charity."

He watched your face drop as you shook your head. "It's not like that-"

"Then why keep me awake?" Ben insisted as he gave steps to get close to you. "I can't die, it's much easier to force my sleep in a capsule your boss made specially for me."

He stopped mere inches in front of you, your eyes never turned away from him. He thought you were fucking brave just by keeping his dark gaze.

"Ben, I told you I will be watching your progress. You can grow from all of this with our help-"

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"A psychiatrist. That's why I'm here."

Ben scoffed with a grin showing on his lips. He didn't believe in that kind of shit, but oh, well. What was he gonna do about it? He was tired of sleeping, Mallory captured him, and you were here, giving him a shelter for no cost, but his freedom. In his mind, that was temporary of course. With time, a plan would come. Right now, he just needed to keep up with the fucked up things of the modern world.

"I guess you would come and babysit me then," he said, going back to take a sit on the bed.

"Wouldn't use 'babysit you' but I will come to see you, that's for sure."

He nodded. Silence was his answer, so you continued.

"Just general rules. Our people will bring you three meals a day, if you're missing something that you need then just push the button by the door, there will be guards outside to assist you on that. Also, there are clothes your size on the closet and personal products so you can change and take a shower," he stayed silent again, just taking in your words. "If you don't need anything then I leave you to get comfortable," you said, about to leave.

"Wait. I do need something," he hesitated for a moment, but he continued anyway. "Don't use those lab coats when you come in."

Your eyes widened, he quickly realised you already knew why he was requesting that when you started to take off the coat, revealing your formal attire. You wrapped the coat on your arm and cleaned your throat.

"I totally understand, I will keep that in mind when I come tomorrow. And I will ask for your reefer too."

You flashed a final polite smile and left him to get settled. Ben breathed out. Fuck, he really needed a shower.

[onlinesuzie]

♡ looking after hamzah’s good boys pt.2 ♡

words: 2.8k

genre: fluff

summary: The idea of you as been playing on Hamzah’s mind and it appears that the connection between you two has become deeper than just you coming over for a few hours to look after his kittens.

note: GUYS I KNOW I SAID THIS WOULD BE MORE SMUTTY BUT LORD I COULDNT HELP MYSELF. a nervous and sweet hamzah was on the mind too hard. i will be definitely be writing another part to this soon!! thank you for the likes on my last part and i hope this second part lives up to the love!! also did not proof read lol >:D

☆

Hamzah had been on edge the entire day, distracted even during the filming session with Martin. His mind kept wandering back to his apartment, wondering how his kittens—and you—were managing. When filming wrapped up, he made his way home as quickly as possible, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

As he approached his door, he paused for a moment, trying to steady his nerves before entering. He took a deep breath, inserted the key, and turned the lock. The door swung open, and he was greeted by the sight of you sitting on the couch, Red and Blue curled up contentedly in your lap. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

"Hey," he said softly, closing the door behind him. The kittens perked up at the sound of his voice, but they seemed perfectly at ease with you.

"Hey," you replied, looking up with a smile. "Your boys have been absolute angels."

Hamzah couldn't help but smile back, his earlier tension melting away. He walked over and sat down next to you, his gaze shifting from the kittens to you. "Thank you so much for taking care of them. It means a lot to me."

"It was my pleasure," you said, your eyes meeting his. There was a moment of comfortable silence before you spoke again. "How was filming?"

"It was good, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how things were going here," he admitted, his voice softening. "I was worried, but seeing you with them... I feel so like relieved."

You reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. "They’re great company, and it’s obvious how much you love them."

Hamzah looked down at your hand on his arm, then back up at you. "Thanks. By the way, about that coffee... When are you free?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your voice steady. "I’m free this weekend. How about Saturday morning?"

"Saturday morning sounds perfect," he replied, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I really hope that place nearby is your thing because I feel you’ll love it."

"Great, I’m looking forward to it," you said, returning his smile.

He glanced around the room, taking in the peaceful scene. "I’ll make sure to bring something special for the boys as a thank you for behaving so well."

You chuckled. "I think they’ll appreciate that."

As the evening continued, you and Hamzah chatted about various things, the conversation flowing easily. The kittens snuggled up beside you, content in the presence of the two people they now adored.

After a while, Hamzah hesitated, then looked at you with a hopeful expression. "You know, if you don’t have any plans tonight, would you like to stay a little longer? It’d be nice to get to know each other better."

Your heart warmed at his invitation. "I’d like that," you replied.

He smiled, visibly relieved. "Great. How about I order some takeout? We can, um, relax and talk more.” he blurts “Plus, the boys would definitely love more of your company."

"That sounds perfect," you agreed.

Hamzah quickly grabbed his phone and started looking up nearby takeout options. "Any preferences?" he asked.

"I'm good with anything," you said, watching him with a smile.

As he placed the order, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement. The evening had turned into something unexpectedly special. You and Hamzah spent the next few hours sharing stories, laughing, and discovering common interests. The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, and the kittens seemed delighted by the extended company. By the time the food arrived, you felt like you had known Hamzah much longer than just a day. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself looking forward to the coffee date even more.

As the night drew to a close, you realized it was time to leave. The evening had been unexpectedly wonderful, filled with laughter and a deepening connection that you hadn't anticipated, but were pleased about. The kittens, now comfortably asleep, were nestled in their favorite spots, oblivious to the passing of time.

Hamzah walked you to the door, a contented smile playing on his lips. "Thank you again for taking care of them and for staying longer. I had a great time."

"Me too," you replied, your heart feeling light and full. "I'm really glad we got to know each other better."

He hesitated for a moment, then gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I'm looking forward to our coffee date on Saturday."

"Me too," you said softly, meeting his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race—an unspoken promise of more moments like this.

"Drive safe," he said, his voice tender. "And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to text or call."

"I will," you replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

As you turned to leave, Hamzah called your name. You looked back, finding him standing there with a thoughtful expression. "I'm really glad Mandy introduced us," he said, his voice carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart flutter.

"Me too, Hamzah," you responded, a smile spreading across your face.

With one last shared look, you stepped out into the cool night air. As you walked to your car, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the coffee date and what it might bring. Just before you reached your car, you turned back to see Hamzah still standing at the door, watching you with a smile.

"Goodnight," you called out, feeling a warm connection despite the distance.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice carrying softly through the night.

As you drove away, you replayed the evening's moments in your mind, feeling the warmth of Hamzah's hand in yours and the sincerity in his words.

The next day at the cat rescue, you found yourself thinking about Hamzah and his kittens often. The rescue was bustling as usual, with volunteers and visitors interacting with the many cats seeking homes. As you went about your duties, you couldn’t help but notice a few cats that reminded you of Red and Blue.

During a quiet moment, you decided to send Hamzah a message. You pulled out your phone and snapped a few photos of the cats that caught your eye. One was a ginger tabby with a playful expression, much like Red, and the other was a smaller, energetic kitten with striking eyes, reminiscent of Blue. You smiled as you composed your message.

You: "Hey Hamzah, hope your day is going well! I’m at the rescue and couldn’t help but think of your boys. Check out these little ones—they remind me so much of Red and Blue!"

You: [attached photos]

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a response.

Hamzah: "Hey! Wow, they really do look like my boys. That ginger one has the same mischievous look as Red."

Hamzah: “How are things going there today?"

You smiled at his quick reply and typed back.

You: "It’s busy, but good. Seeing these cats always brightens my day. Your boys were great practice for today’s energy!"

You: "I can’t wait for Saturday. Any special plans for our coffee date?"

A pause, then another buzz.

Hamzah: “I’m glad to hear that! And I can’t tell you that! By the way, thanks again for yesterday. I felt so much more at ease knowing my kittens were in good hands."

You felt a warm glow reading his message. It was nice to know he appreciated your help and was looking forward to spending more time together.

You: “Sounds perfect. I’m looking forward to it too. And it was my pleasure—your boys made it easy!"

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, feeling a renewed sense of excitement. As you continued your work at the rescue, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for your upcoming date with Hamzah. It was shaping up to be a week full of promising moments with Hamzah.

Saturday morning arrived with a mix of nerves and excitement. You got ready for your coffee date with Hamzah, your thoughts drifting back to the pleasant evening you had spent at his place earlier in the week. As you approached his apartment building, you felt a flutter of nerves.

Hamzah greeted you at the door with a warm smile. "Hey! Ready for our coffee date?"

"Absolutely," you replied, feeling your heart race slightly. "But before we go, can I say hi to the kittens?"

He chuckled and opened the door wider, motioning for you to come in. "Of course. I had a feeling you'd want to see them."

You stepped inside, immediately spotting Red and Blue lounging in their usual spots. They perked up at the sight of you and scampered over, nuzzling against your legs. You crouched down to pet them, smiling at their enthusiastic greeting.

"They really missed you," Hamzah said, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm starting to think you only want to see me for my cats."

You laughed, shaking your head. "They are a big plus, but... I wanted to see you too."

The words slipped out before you could catch them. Hamzah's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "Oh, um, really?"

You stood up, feeling your own cheeks warm. "Yeah, I mean, I had a great time the other night, and I was looking forward to today."

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "That's, uh, that's good to hear. I was looking forward to today too."

There was a moment of awkward silence before he cleared his throat. "Anyway, we should probably get going. The coffee place gets busy on weekends."

"Right, let's go," you said, feeling a bit relieved to shift the focus. As you both headed out the door, Hamzah glanced back at his kittens.

"You two behave while we’re gone, okay?" he said, his voice softening.

Red and Blue meowed in response, almost as if they understood. You both laughed, and the tension from the earlier moment seemed to ease.

The walk to the coffee shop was pleasant, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence of two people getting to know each other. When you arrived, the cozy atmosphere of the café put you at ease. You found a quiet corner table, and Hamzah ordered your drinks.

As you sipped your coffee, the conversation flowed naturally. You talked about your work at the cat rescue, his YouTube channel, and shared stories from your pasts. The initial nervousness faded, replaced by a genuine connection that seemed to grow stronger with every word.

After a while, Hamzah looked at you, his eyes warm and sincere. "I’m really glad we did this. It’s nice getting to know you outside of kitten duties."

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment. "I’m glad too. This has been really nice."

The rest of the date flew by, and before you knew it, you were walking back to his apartment. When you reached his door, he hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you like to come in for a bit?’ he blurted out, before quickly interrupting himself, “The kittens- would love more of your company."

You nodded, feeling a happy feeling in your chest. "I’d love to."

Back inside, you spent some more time with the kittens, but your attention often drifted back to Hamzah. It was clear that this was the start of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Back at Hamzah's place, the atmosphere felt warm and relaxed. You both kicked off your shoes, and Hamzah led you to the living room where the kittens were already making themselves comfortable.

"Want to watch a movie?" he asked, picking up the remote.

"Sure," you replied, settling into the couch. "What do you have in mind?"

"I’ve got a few options," he said, scrolling through a list of films. "How about something light? Maybe a comedy?"

"That sounds perfect," you agreed.

He selected a movie, and soon the opening credits were rolling. Red and Blue jumped up onto the couch, each finding a spot next to you. As the movie played, you laughed together at the funny scenes and exchanged comments about the plot and characters.

As time passed, the room grew darker with the setting sun, and the soft glow of the TV became the main source of light. You hadn’t realized how close you’d been sitting until you felt Hamzah’s arm brush against yours. Neither of you moved away, and gradually, you found yourselves leaning into each other, the proximity feeling natural and comforting.

At one particularly funny scene, you both burst out laughing. In the shared moment of mirth, you leaned into him a bit more, and without thinking, you nestled your head on his shoulder. Hamzah tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed, his arm coming up to rest gently around your shoulders.

You glanced up at him, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"No, it’s okay," he interrupted softly, a small smile playing on his lips. "I’m comfortable if you are."

You nodded, returning the smile. "I am."

With that unspoken agreement, you both settled back into the movie, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a growing sense of closeness. The kittens seemed to sense the change too, snuggling up closer as if they approved of the new arrangement.

As the film continued, you found it harder to concentrate on the screen. Your thoughts kept drifting to how warm and reassuring Hamzah felt beside you. You could hear his steady breathing, and it brought you a sense of peace.

By the time the movie ended, it was quite late. The credits rolled, and neither of you made a move to get up. Instead, you stayed there, comfortably leaning against each other, savoring the moment.

"I guess it’s late," Hamzah finally said, his voice a low murmur.

"Yeah," you replied, not really wanting to move.

He glanced down at you, his eyes soft. "Thank you for today. I really enjoyed it."

"Me too," you said, your voice equally soft.

For a few more minutes, you both lingered there, the silence filled with the unspoken connection between you. Eventually, you knew it was time to leave, but the promise of more moments like this made parting a bit easier. He walked you over to the door slowly, as if savouring the time spent with you.

As you stood at the door, preparing to leave, the warmth of the evening and the close moments you had shared lingered in the air. Hamzah hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if contemplating something.

"Hey," he said softly, drawing your attention back to him. "Before you go…"

You felt your heart beating a little faster. "Yeah?"

He took a small step closer, his expression earnest and a bit vulnerable. "I know this might be sudden, but, um, would it be alright if I kissed you?"

Surprise flashed across your face, but it was quickly replaced by a rush of warmth and excitement. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made your heart swell.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hamzah's smile widened, relief evident in his expression. He stepped even closer, and the world around you seemed to fade away as he leaned in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, testing the waters.

The kiss deepened, a gentle exploration filled with the sweetness of the moment. You felt a surge of warmth as you melted into him, the tension of the evening dissolving into something beautiful. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, feeling a perfect connection that transcended words.

When you finally pulled away, both of you lingered close, breaths mingling in the small space between you. Hamzah looked at you, his eyes bright with happiness. "Wow," he said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That was..."

"So lovely," you replied, still feeling the warmth of the moment lingering on your lips.

"I’m really glad I asked," he continued, his voice softening. "I didn’t want to rush anything, but I couldn’t help myself."

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement building within you. "I’m glad you did."

After a moment, you knew it was time to go. You stepped back, giving him a lingering look. "Drive safe, and text me when you get home?"

"I will," he promised, his eyes still holding yours with a mix of affection and tension leaving his body. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Hamzah," you said, your heart fluttering as you turned to head to your car.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, the warmth of it wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. The evening had been everything you had hoped for and more, and the promise of what was to come filled you with a sense of comfort. You looked forward to the next time you would see Hamzah, hoping your next kiss would be as special as that one.

[gilmore-angel]

unexpected pleasures || A.T x fem!reader

summary ♱ reader has just wed the infamous aemond targaryen, and though she's nervous, she will soon discover there are many pleasurable things to come (tldr reader gets finger fucked good)

warnings/contains ♱ arranged marriage, awkwardness at first, smut obvi, sub!reader dom!aemond, fingering, praise kink!! use of good girl, pretty girl, wife. overall very fluffy!! soft!aemond<3. let me know if I should add anything else!!

authors note ♱ okok this is probably trash but I'm literally forcing myself to write rn<3 lol anyways this is also my first time actually writing for aemond which is crazy bc I've been obsessed with him since like early January💀. if you enjoy please reblog! likes are obviously appreciated but reblogs are the thing that actually help the writer<3 oh and lmk if you want a part two!!

navigation 𔓕 follow and turn on notifications for @baysfics to know when I post my writings

married life isn't so bad after all.

of course, you've only been married for about three hours now, but it's going better than expected, which at this point is all you can hope for.

your new husband, prince aemond, has been quite pleasant thus far. you have only had roughly six full conversations since you were betrothed two months ago, but based off of them he was very polite and well educated.

though you had dreaded the wedding day, everything had gone smoothly. the ceremony itself was a big event, full of lords and ladies you didn't even know the house of, all eager to get on the new princesses good side. and of course there was the kiss you shared with aemond, one that sent an unknown feeling through you, settling at your lower belly. and now, the grand feast to celebrate the union.

it had less people there, only family and the very important houses were allowed to attend. you sat at the table in the middle, sitting in the center along with your husband. on your other side sat your father, mother and siblings, the same went for aemond. your husband stayed mostly silent during the feast, only speaking when spoken to.

your belly slightly ached with nerves for what was coming next; the bedding. thankfully, the queen had insisted upon a private bedding, just as she did for her other children when they wed. the action soothed your nerves a bit, but they still clung to you.

you had been warned by your mother that the bedding was an uncomfortable and painful process for the woman. but she also informed you that it is something all woman must do to please their lord husband and produce heirs.

you felt your heart sink when the king stood up weakly to announce it was time for you and aemond to head to your chambers. you both stood up and gave your goodbyes, your mother giving you a reassuring smile before you left.

there was an awkward silence as you walked with your husband to your chambers, escorted by guards. you glanced at him, only to see him looking straight ahead, blank expression on his handsome face.

once you arrived the guards pushed open the heavy wooden doors. you gave them a small smile in thanks before aemond dismissed them. as the doors closed aemond let out a small shaky sigh, you couldn't tell if it was out of nervousness or dread. you both stood awkwardly, unsure of where to begin. he spoke first, breaking the deafening silence.

"would you like help taking down your hair?" he blurted out. you nodded, giving him a awkward small smile.

"please," you moved past him to sit at the vanity. you began taking out the many odd placed pins and braids in your hair. aemond came up from behind you to start assisting in the process. the feeling of his long fingers in your hair made up for the times he would accidentally tugged too hard trying to take down the hairstyle. you both worked in silence, the only word spoken was his occasional 'sorry's when he would notice you wince.

now that your hair was down, the room was once again filled with an thick silence. eventually you stood up, turning to face him. you sucked in a breath, looking up at him nervously.

"should i..... should I remove my clothes, my prince?"

his eyes widened at the question, but he nodded, "yes, my lady... I can help."

he moved behind you, undoing the laces of the dress with shaky fingers. the gorgeous dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet. you stepped out of the dress, leaving you in a silky shift and small clothes. you felt quite vulnerable as you begun taking your shift off, even more so once it was gone.

aemond let out a shaky breath at the sight of you in nothing but your small clothes. he looks up and down your body, desire filling his eye. he walks closer to you, looking deep into your eyes.

"may I kiss you, my lady?" he asked, his usual cold tone gone, now replaced with a soft, caring one. you nod, eyes wide.

aemond smiled softly before leaning down and kissing your soft lips. this kiss was unlike the other one you both had shared just hours before. this one was out of pure want, not obligation.

you gasp softly against his lips when he deepened the kiss, your hands flying up to his strong shoulders. his hands found home on your hips. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, "is this okay?"

you nod, staring up at him with wide eyes. "yes, my prince, I just... I don't really know how to do this properly."

he smiles at you softly, moving one of his hands to caress your cheek gently.

"that's okay, just copy what I do, okay?"

he leans back in, kissing at a slow pace. his lips are soft and warm against your own. you feel something wet poking at your bottom lip and soon realize it's his tongue. you open your mouth slightly and gasp when he slides his tongue in, exploring where he can reach. the sensation causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

he begins pushing you backwards gently until the back of your knees hit the edge of the plush bed behind you, causing you to lay down on it. to your surprise, aemond gets on his knees before you and pulls you down so your legs hang off the bed. leaning up on your elbows you look down at him extremely confused. "my prince... what are you doing?"

he simply smiled and blushed, "let me know if you wish to stop, okay my lady?". his big calloused hands went up and down your thighs, pulling them apart. you laid back, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. his hands eventually found their way to your small clothes.

"may I remove these, my lady?" one hand continued rubbing you thigh gently. you hum and nod. that wasn't good enough apparently and aemond lightly pinched your thigh. "words, wife. I need to hear some words out of those pretty lips."

you blushed deeply, taking a deep breath, "yes, please take them off."

he smiles, murmuring under his breath "good girl". you felt a tingle in your lower belly, growing each time he touched or talked to you.

he carefully slid your small clothes off, throwing them somewhere in the room. he sucked in a big breath at the sight of your bare cunt. you squirmed slightly, his gaze lighting you on fire almost.

"may I touch you, wife?" he spoke softly, a poorly hidden desire behind the words.

you nod but quickly remember what he told you. "yes, you may."

with one hand he softly rubbed your thigh, with the other he rubbed one finger up and down your lips, pushing past them and exploring the wet outside. your back slightly arched at the unknown but not unwelcomed feeling. he moved his finger higher until he found your clit. a high pitched whimper escaped your lips at his soft but achingly good touch.

he looked up at you with a sweet smile. "does that feel nice, wife?". his finger moved in gentle circles, pressing ever so slightly.

a few breathy whimpers and moans slipped out of your mouth. "yes," you breathed, "so so nice..."

he let out a hmm, continuing his movements. he moved his finger up and down, gathering your wetness and then spreading it around your sensitive clit. as he rubbed on your bundle of nerves, his other hand came up, softly pressing against your slit.

"this may feel strange, my lady, but I promise it'll feel so good soon, okay?" he pushed a long thick finger into your previously untouched hole, groaning at how tight you were. your back arched off the bed as a loud moan rang around the room. he slowly started moving it in and out, sending waves of pleasure through your body when he curled his finger upwards. your gummy walls tightened around him, almost as tight as he cock felt in his trousers.

he looked up to see your reaction, smiling when he saw your head thrown back in pleasure. soft whimpers left your mouth as his movements quickened.

"may I add a second finger, sweet girl?" something about the way he said the affectionate name sent chills down your spine as you slightly bucked against his hand.

"hmmph, yes, yes please husband." he smirked as he added a second finger. he pumped them in and out fast, his other hand still focused on your puffy clit.

suddenly a new feeling hit you. like some sort of knot in your belly, ready to explode any second. a panicked expression washed over you at the strange sensation.

"aemond, aemond! something is, fuck, happening!" you cried desperately, clenching the sheets beneath you hard.

"shh, it's okay, it'll feel so good. just let it happen sweet girl." it was too much and too little, it was overwhelming yet you needed more. it hurt but felt so so right.

before you could reply waves and waves of pleasure washed over you, drowning you in the feeling of him. your whole body shook, hips bucking wildly into his hand. creamy white cum drooled onto his fingers and hand. he groaned at the sight and fucked you through your peak.

he eventually slid his hand out and climbed up the bed, hovering over you. he brought his cum covered fingers to you mouth, "open," he commanded softly, sucking in a shaky breath when you wrapped you lips around them. he pulled them out, moving to caress your cheek, "such a good girl."

he began kissing your neck, trailing his hand back down to your thighs. you whimpered sweetly causing him to chuckle.

"oh, sweet wife, we are just getting started."

[kat651]

Hi,

I just reread your self harm elf posts again and was wondering if you would write something similar but with the reader being the one self harming?

Just thought I’d ask since I myself have struggled with this. If not that’s fine but I figured I’d ask

Love your writing so much btw

Elrond:

Elrond had spent the last hour searching for you. It was strange that you were able to do this to him, make him worried beyond what felt reasonable. Rivendell was a safe place. He knew that. But you always managed to make him panic. Always. 

Finally he decided to check your room. Occasionally you’d go in there during the day just to get some quiet. 

As he opened the door the sight before him caused him to gasp and tears to well up in his eyes. “Meleth, why?” He asked, briskly walking over to you and taking the knife before kneeling in front of you and gently taking your hands. “Why are you hurting yourself?” His eyes were brimmed with tears and his usual strong voice was wavering and choked. 

You didn’t answer and it felt like a punch to the gut for him. Elrond stood before lifting you out of the seat and seating you on your bed. “Don’t move I’ll be right back.” He whispered, kissing your cheek before running off. 

When Elrond returned he had everything he would need to take care of your wounds. He knelt before you and gently began to clean and wrap your wrists. When he finished he rose and sat next to you. “What’s wrong my love? Why are you doing this?”

You looked up at him for a moment before sighing and hiding your face in his chest. “It’s all too much right now. I can’t take it.” You sobbed. 

“I’m here…you don’t have to do this alone.”

Lindir:

You tried to hide it from him. but of course, being the observant person he was, he noticed. 

“Love, what happened to your wrist?” He asked, gently grabbing your hand. 

You looked away refusing to answer and it broke Lindir’s fraigile heart. He gently cupped your face and placed a kiss on your nose. 

You sighed and hugged yourself. 

“Hey… look at me…” he whispered, gently tilting your chin up. “I’m not mad. You know that… right?”

You nodded. 

Lindir put an arm around you and pulled you out of the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Thranduil:

When he first saw the cuts on your wrists he panicked. “Y/n, what happened? Why would you- are you ok?!” 

For a regal elf lord he sure did panic when it came to you. 

Once he calmed down enough he looked at you with sad eyes. “How long? How long have you been doing this and not telling me?”

Of course you didn’t answer which caused him to worry again. “Is it me? Am I the reason?”

You shook your head and he visibly relaxed. “I- ok…I just… I worry. A lot.”

“I know” you said, leaning against him.

Legolas:

Caught. 

Legolas had caught you red handed. Quite literally. “Y/n!” He yelled in a panic. Which of course caused tears to well in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. 

Realizing he had caused you to panic, he slowly wrapped you in his arms. “Darling what’s wrong?” He whispered as he subconsciously inspected your wrists before sliding his bag off his shoulder and digging through it with one hand until he located some bandages. “Talk to me sweetheart.” He whispered as he gently wrapped your arms. 

Haldir:

When he noticed the scars on your wrists he hesitated to say anything at first. He knew all too well that kind of pain. 

After a few days he finally spoke up. “Don’t do it again.” He said, not even looking over. 

“Do what?” You asked confused. 

Haldir grabbed your hand and slid up your shirt sleeve. “This. Don’t do it.”

You pulled away and looked at your hands. 

Haldir sighed. Emotions were hard but he needed to try. He knelt in front of you and gently took your hands. “Look at me…”

You slowly met his gaze and to your surprise there was pain etched in his eyes. “Please don’t hurt yourself. If you want to hurt someone hurt me.”

“What? No!” 

Haldir gently took your face in his hands and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Please don’t do this to yourself. I…” he paused and took a breath. “I love you too much to watch you do this… please, if you’re struggling come talk to me. I’ll listen…”

[serafilms]

song 24! message in a bottle (taylor swift) + aang requested by @fylithia (spotify wrapped event)

but now you’re so far away and i’m down, feeling like a face in the crowd, i’m reaching for you, terrified

It’s been years now since the war ended. Years since you and your friends saved the world, defeated Zuko’s father and brought peace to the four nations once more. Ever since, everyone’s been busy trying to piece the world back together. Katara’s been staging a feminist revolution in the water tribes, Toph has been reinventing Earth bending, Suki taking the Kyoshi Warriors all over and recruiting, Sokka inventing, Zuko rebuilding a nation and Aang flitting all over the place.

You, on the other hand… What have you achieved? You went back to your village and spent some time telling stories of your adventures to children, then picking up odd jobs on fishing boats and cargo ships to hitch a ride to wherever your friends are off making history. You tell yourself you like the simplicity, like not having to worry about the fate of the world, but you feel like about as insignificant as a speck of dust at your biannual (twice a year) catch ups.

I’m like an old lady telling stories to relive her glory days, you think bitterly.

But you like reliving them. You miss adventuring and seeing the world with your friends. You miss when you were all just kids and there were no real titles or duties in the way (aside from your common goal of ending the war, of course). You miss when Aang looked at you like you’d hung all the stars in the sky, when he was just a boy who liked you but never said it, and when you liked him but refused to show it. Now you feel like you’re miles apart, like he’s on the top of the mountain and you’re left waiting at the base.

You still all write each other, Aang more than the rest but you can’t shake the feeling that it’s out of pity; it’s an obligation to you as an old friend. They’re busy now and that’s not their fault, and you all really would have no reason to go back to camping out. In fact, with the Avatar and Fire Lord especially, it was probably a security risk.

You’re too busy drowning in your own misery to notice Katara until she’s already nudging you in the arm. “Hey, why aren’t you over there with everyone else?”

Starting a little in surprise, you stare at her for a second before sighing as you kick your foot into the dirt and watch the dust rise.

“No reason,” you lie. Because I don’t want to talk to you guys. Especially Aang.

Your time alone has dulled your social skills, because Katara stares at you for a good seven seconds before you realise she expects you to keep talking.

“I think it’s just a little overwhelming to be around many people when I’m usually by myself.”

Her face softens and she reaches out to put her hand on your knee. “But it’s us. We want to make you comfortable and be around you. You know that, right?”

You nod, and she squeezes then releases you. “Let’s start small. Aang!”

Your chest flickers with panic as his bright eyes locate you instantly and he leaves his conversation with Zuko without a second thought. Katara takes his place, striding back up to the group as Aang stops right in front of you.

You feel your heart lurch at finally seeing him up close after spirits knows how many months. He's taller than you now, so it's not hard to avoid his gaze, but you can't tear your eyes away yet. His eyes sparkle at you and you feel yourself flush at how cute he looks with faint freckles dusting the upper part of his cheeks.

"Hey," he greets you softly, taking a seat beside you. "How are you?"

"I'm good," you find yourself saying, despite your mind being devoid of any thought that's not of him. His smile that's as sweet as ever, his eyes, his pink lips. How he's so, so out of your league.

Much like Katara, Aang seems unsatisfied with your short reply. "What have you been up to?"

Thinking about how much I love you. You can't say that, of course, so you babble on about the courier job you did a few months ago, which was great because you helped find a few new Kyoshi Warriors for Suki. When you look back at him once more, Aang has a soft look on his face, and a smile that seems to be there without his knowledge. Your face flushes, stomach flips and something akin to hope rises within you.

His cheeks turn pink when you've trailed off and he realises you're looking at him.

"Wow," he says. "That sounds really great."

You roll your eyes a little, feeling a sense of familiarity. "It's fine, you don't have to pretend you're interested. I know it's all boring compared to the work of the great Avatar."

"No, really," he insists, and there's an urgency in his voice, as if he needs you to know how genuine he is. "I think everything you do is amazing."

You smile. "Really?"

Aang nods down at you, eyes wide. "Well, yeah. I mean, it's you."

Embarrassed but pleased, you look down at your shoes before looking back up at him. "Thanks, Aang."

He grins at you, before glancing over to the others. "Wanna go catch up with everyone else?"

You take a look over at your friends. They look normal now, like a group of friends laughing, instead of the incredible figures they are. You nod at him and he extends a hand out to help you up. You take it.

You can't tell him how much he means to you, but you feel closer now. All you can do now is hope that one day, he gets the message.

[cheollipop]

Hello there! I wanted to pop in and say I’m so glad you’ve hit such a big milestone!! I honestly adore your works! Your writing style and characterization always has me begging for more!! And don’t get me started on your smut good lord 🫠

As for the slumber party.. *squeezes pillow* what do you think about dom!san and sub!reader and woo? I would honestly love to be brat tamed by San, have you seen the looks he gives Woo?? Especially him in Guerrilla era?? If he gave me that look I would be GONE. But it’s been making me think about him taking me from behind, with that signature neck hold of his as he ruins me into the mattress, Wooyoung needy and whining on the side waiting for his turn. 🫠🫠

Anyway I have shared my thoughts for this party, I can’t wait to see what others have to say as well!! (omg that somnophilia one had me sitting there crossing my legs. rip to those panties 🫡 😔)

Have a good day, Panda!! ❤️

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

anonnie you are so cute pls 😭 squeezing your pillow while spitting straight filth bahahha. thank you so much!! this seriously means so much to me TT with woosan, I tend to write them with a dynamic opposite to the one you'd described, so I found myself in a pickle trying to write this one;; however, I'm in an insane san mood this week, so I made it work (?) somehow (?), it is a lot shorter then I would have wanted it to be though :" I really hope you enjoy this nonetheless!! (and I'm so happy you liked the somno one, it's one of my favourites too~)- don't be a stranger, and happy reading!! (≧◡≦)

pairing: choi san x fem!reader x jung wooyoung

w.c.: 0.5k

tags: smut, dom!san, sub!woo & reader, san's kinda mean *bites lip*, unprotected sex (👎), creampie(s), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, edging, mentioned double penetration

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Wooyoung squirmed on the mattress, back flush against the headboard while his fingers twitched by his hips. Despite the overwhelming need to relieve himself, to wrap his fingers around his throbbing cock—the tip an angry red as it stood upright, leaking translucent drops of arousal down the veiny shaft—his attention remained on the two figures moving to a steady rhythm beside him.

The hand at your nape pushed you further into the pillow, shallowly breathing as the pleasure soaring through your body took over all five senses. San’s lips brushed against your temple, sharp grunts reverberating in your ear while he pumped his cock inside your spent cunt, oozing a mixture of slick and cum until it formed a pool over the linen beneath you. His other hand held your hips up, guiding them back to meet his relentless thrusts, making sure your walls would forever be moulded to his shape.

“San-ah, I ‘wanna touch her too,” Wooyoung mewled, eyes trained on your pussy as it repeatedly swallowed San’s girth. “C’mon, ‘can’t wait anymore.”

“No,” was all he responded with, not even sparing him a glance, slowing his pace as you shook under him once again—another orgasm drawing muffled moans out of your parted lips, and spreading drool on the pillowcase under your head.

Peering over at the man resting beside him, the sight of his cock bobbing uselessly against his lower belly, precum shimmering over tan skin under the overhead light, San felt himself grow harder as he waited for you to come down from your high. Wooyoung whimpered at San’s intense gaze—his quick glance rendering him unable to look away from the younger’s pathetic state—readjusting his position to angle his hips towards San, his cock now resting hard and heavy over his upper thigh.

Feline eyes glazed over as an idea popped into his head, straightening up behind you and shifting his gaze down to where your bodies met. San’s palm landed over your ass, watching your back arch further as he added yet another handprint onto the sensitive flesh, running soothing circles over it before slipping his hand between your legs. Running his fingers over the drenched slit, he rounded his base where his cock sat within your heat, dipping a thumb into the stretched hole and pulling it open even further, until it gaped and loosened around his length.

“San, wait—hnngh—please, I can’t-”

“–Yes you can,” San interrupted, moving the hand on your nape to the back of your head, pushing your face into the pillow until your words were no longer coherent. He slipped a few inches out, angling his cockhead to press directly into your g-spot, muffled sentences morphing into desperate groans. “Look,” he shifted his attention to the neglected man, spreading you even wider with his thumb while he grinded his cock into your used cunt. “What do you say, Youngie, do you think our pretty girl can fit the both of us?”