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#he fell first and harder
mydairpercabeth · 4 months
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“i chose her because i couldn’t imagine we’d ever be friends” and then he looks at her like this
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tangyangie · 9 months
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hello~ i just read your wiping kiss prank imagine with budo masuta from yansim and i really like it! could you do more of him but make the reader as an art club member? maybe with a “he fell first and he fell harder” trope would be cute hehe you can make it a headcanon or an imagine!
i haven’t seen many content of him and it’s hard to find one ;; tysm!!!
— 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ▨
synopsis. budo masuta x art club reader, where budo fell both first and harder!!
notes. guys it finally happened my first yansim req!! i will gladly feed all the budo lovers 🤭
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every day, without fail, you're sitting outside the martial arts room and painting something. occasionally, you might draw some of the members of the club, as you have a perfect view from the window.
budo's caught sight of you a few times. sends you a friendly smile and a wave, when he doesn't even know your name. eventually, he gathers up the courage to ask.
he's a little awkward, but it's honestly endearing. he sits next to you one day, asking if he can see your drawing. you smile and show him, leaning the he notices it's sketches of all the martial arts club members, but he's the one on there the most.
a bit of pink dusts his face, looking over himself on paper. you notice a few details now that he's a bit closer, so you change a few things about the drawing, intently looking at him.
aaaand he's caught feelings from that moment. he's spending a lot more time with you now!! he invites you to walk around the school with him both before and after classes.
budo gets your number. his club celebrates the occasion.
it's funny to imagine budo giggling and kicking his feet in his bed at your texts, but that is basically what happens. minus the kicking. he does shuffle a lot, though.
you both meet up outside of school once you give him your number. you've invited him over to your house a few times and showed him your art room. you both began making something random, but it ended with you both smearing paint on each others' faces.
he likes to give you things. whether it's buying you something while you're out shopping together or him finding a stuffed animal that reminds him of you, he doesn't think twice. you will have gained a new item that day.
budo believes in waiting to get to know you before asking you out. it'll be several months before he does so—he just wants to make sure you're comfortable with him by that time.
when he finally does, he confesses in a very romantic way. he'll make sure that it's doing something you like—maybe going to a museum, walking around a lake... or, perhaps—he'll partake in the 'confessing on a friday under the cherry tree' myth.
and he'll look around to make sure no one can hear him ask but you. he'll ask you with a smile on his face, gently holding your hands in his as he looks into your eyes. (you say yes, obviously.)
he wants to kiss you. very badly.
he doesn't know if he should, but you can tell by the look on his face what he's thinking. so, you lean in and do it yourself. it's just a small peck, but he's fallen even further than possible.
if earlier, he had fallen so hard for you he landed on his face, he'd be on his way to the center of the earth by now. he likes you so much that the ground gave in.
he melts when you do almost anything. holding him and lightly dusting your fingers over him, peppering kisses all over his face... he could go on and on about what affections he loves to get from you.
but, he loves to give even more. don't expect to have to do any work when you're in his vicinity. he'll take care of everything you need.
your personalities go together very well. in at least one aspect, you and him are similar, and in at least one, you're different. it's the best mix—and you complement each other perfectly.
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notes. guys i have no clue but i've had like no motivation to write for the past week i'm super sorry
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sonofenki · 4 months
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hoplessartist · 7 months
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little sketch of the parents of my knight.
The twink is called Cregan
The tall queen is Ammora
She even has the baby knight on her shoulder here (His name is Samayel btw)
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gift-of-prophecy · 2 months
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people who complain about gale yapping too much don’t understand the sixth secret love language: infodumping
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soaqrudyz · 9 months
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soap who knew the moment he saw all 6 feet 4 inches of ghost’s northern british emoness that he was gonna fuck him, sets his sights on seducing the giant and gets completely blindsided by how fucking Charming ghost actually is. he’s funny and sarcastic and a huge pain in the ass and suddenly soap doesn’t just want to be in his bed.
ghost who knew the second soap looked through the mask and treated him like a human instead of a machine that night on the tarmac that he wouldn’t be able to stop the man from making a home in his heart. so he sets about becoming the scot’s friend, silently hoping he’ll fall as hard as ghost himself did.
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aerequets · 4 months
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you know what would be so good? if twilight begins relying on yor's reactions instead of his self discipline when it comes to them getting closer
because that means that when Yor doesn't hit him or kick him out of instinct when he's gotten close, he's gonna have a moment of OH SHIT WHY ISNT SHE DOING ANYTHING MOVE BACK HIT ME KICK ME DO SOMETHING and realize that not only is yor his weakness, but he's also weak for her
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mobius-m-mobius · 3 months
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It's a pretty cool name.
Loki + the progression of saying Mobius' name for @percheduphere
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narutosfrog · 1 year
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suzanne collins fucking produced a masterpiece. i'm reading hunger games for the millionth time and EVERY TIME i fall more in love with it.
i'm kicking my feet over the fact that katniss already had a little crush on peeta before the hunger games started and she didn't even realise it. like — during the parade, she holds onto him because he's so strong and solid as rock and then he smiles at her and tells her fire suits her and she has to stop herself from getting butterflies!!!!! i fucking love them. katniss is one of the best written characters EVER and i am FOREVER a simp for peeta mellark.
i could talk about hunger games for HOURS. favourite "he fell first but she fell harder" trope. gale can choke
have a good day everyone:)
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meep-meep-richie · 4 months
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he fell first but he fell harder
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fangisms · 5 months
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lady may
A/N: something ab writing for an angry hufflepuff really saved my soul. she is SO valid. maybe i’m her. (also this song eats away at my brain, so i had to write ab it… naturally) gif creds: @frodo-sam
Pairings: Cedric Diggory x Fem!Grumpy!Hufflepuff!Reader
Summary: Well, he’s not the toughest hickory that your axe has ever felled // But he’s a hickory just as well 1.5k words
Warnings: fluff, cursing, two idiots very much in love, pining, angry hufflepuff, dumb/embarassed reader (lovingly), golden retriever cedric, quidditch injury mention
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How could you look so beautiful drenched by the pouring rain, hovering ten meters in the air, goggles suctioned to your face, barking orders at the rest of the team like a drill sergeant? It’d always make him wonder. And midgame, that’s a silly thing to do. Which is exactly why he’s doing it.
You’re the angriest girl Cedric’s ever met. World class beater and a great captain, but you’ve got serious anger issues. The guys have started calling you boxer because you’re always on the verge of a scrap. Cedric has seen you chew out almost every position on the team. Except him. You’ve never yelled at him, you barely even look in his direction on a good day. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, he wants you to yell at him.
Well, not entirely inexplicable. Now would be the best time to mention he’s got a huge crush on you. In fact, he’s had a crush on you since you became team captain. You’ve always been pretty, but something about the title and the power really commanded his attention.
Which is precisely why he needs you to yell at him. He craves it. He’s been waiting all year for you to tell him he’s an idiot and that he’s doing everything wrong. But you won’t. And desperate times call for very desperate measures.
He’s barely dodging bludgers, not even trying for the snitch, doing party tricks in front of the stands, anything for you to glance his way. And then he goes and gets knocked off his broom. Luckily, he wasn’t too high in the air and he wasn’t flying too fast. The worst that happened was he got the wind knocked out of him. The best? You marching toward him like a sicced dog.
You kneel at his side, goggles loose around your neck as you coo, “are you okay?”
What? No, this is all wrong, you’re supposed to call him stupid, say that next time he’s off the team. Not ask if he’s okay.
Cedric nods and you help him sit up, signalling to the stadium that he’s alright. A cheer rips through the crowd.
“Can you play?” you huff, patting his back softly. He’s got butterflies.
“Yeah,” he says. When you get him on his feet, he almost wishes you won’t let go. And he suddenly remembers you’re much prettier up close, and his heart nearly gives out.
“Good sport, Diggory,” you tease, hopping back on your broom, “Back to work!”
It’d take a brain injury to get your attention.
The game goes off without a hitch: Cedric goes back to actually trying for the snitch and wins Hufflepuff the game. He’s a little disappointed he hsan’t given you anything else to be upset about. So once the celebration is over, he catches you outside of the locker rooms.
“Why didn’t you get mad at me?” Cedric asks, jogging to catch you as you head back towards the dorms. You don’t respond, but he’s sure you heard him. So he nudges your shoulder. “Come on, boxer, I’ve seen you angry, I’m prepared.”
You stop dead in your tracks, and he slows to a stop just behind you. Then you turn to face him, and he’s never seen your glare so intense.
“Listen, Diggory, you’re smart, you’ve got talent, and I trust you to perform well on this team. So I can’t for the life of me understand why you go out on that field just to dick around.”
You’re serious. Not angry, just serious. You’ve got this calm and collected tone that drives him absolutely up-the-wall insane. But he wants you to yell.
“You have plenty of adoring fans tracking your every move, you don’t have to pull dumb shit to get people to like you. You could’ve gotten yourself hurt or killed, understand? So I advise you put your team and your safety before your reputation,” you say, storming off with your bag slung over your shoulder.
And it gets him kind of worked up because obviously, he wouldn’t have done any of it if it weren’t for you. You and your stupidly selective anger issues. And your stupid smile.
“Hold on,” he hollers, still half drunk on the idea of being subject to your rage, “you think I don’t put this team at the top of all of my lists? Clearly, I love this stupid sport or I wouldn’t put so much damn time and effort into it!”
“If you love this sport, act like it.” Your jaw ticks before you march through the doorway, leaving him flustered in the mist of the courtyard.
He’s giving it one last go. If you won’t get angry with him, maybe he ought to just confess his feelings outright. This feels like the most rational he’s ever been. He even combed his hair extra carefully in hopes of you noticing.
Your friends quiet down when he approaches you in the mess hall, small flower pinched between his fingers, grin plastered across his face. You look a little annoyed but he’s pretty sure it’s just shock. And suddenly it feels like grade school when they all burst into giggles.
“This is for you—”
“Diggory.”
He cocks a brow. “Yeah?”
You grab the sleeve of his robes and drag him out into the hall, near slamming him into the stone wall. So much for his combed hair.
“What was that back there?” you hiss, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Well. I brought you a flower. It’s from the field—”
“I can see that!”—you’re frenzied searhcing for any possible explanation other than he has a head injury from falling—“Explain to me why.”
He looks confused and presents the flower again.“Isn’t it obvious?”
You look down at the flower. It’s small and white and looks so delicate in his hand. And you look at him. You suppose his pupils are a little extra dilated. “Are you poisoned? Or drunk?”
“No!”
You finally let go of him to gesture wildly. “Then what, Cedric—Merlin’s beard—What???”
“I brought you a flower,” he coos, tilting his head. You press two fingers to the bridge of your nose.
“Yeah, I got that part—”
“Hold on—hasn’t anyone ever given you something nice because… they like you?” Cedric hums, shuffling closer to you. Your eyes are glued to the tiny flower, but you won’t take it. Then you glare up at him.
“Is this a joke? Did the twins put you up to it?”
“No, just take the flower! I like you!” He sounds dastardly jovial, taking your wrist in one hand and presisng the flower to your palm with the other.
“What?” you scoff. Still staring down at the flower, making him wish his face was made of them so you’d look at him like that.
“Yeah,” he sighs.
And then you look at him. In the eyes. Perplexed, brows knitted, but you’re looking right at him and he could faint. Maybe it is a head injury.
“But I’m not… I’m not like…”
“Like what?” he asks.
“Well, it’s just—I’m confused because… you like pretty girls, and I’m not… that’s not what I do—am. What I am.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” he huffs.
“Cho is pretty,” you state.
“You’re pretty.”
“No, Cedric, I play quidditch. If I was pretty, I’d have a boyfriend,” you reason, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a real run for his money.
“And those things are connected… how?”
You scoff and relax a little when he puts his hands on his hips. So what if he’s incredibly handsome. So what if your friends want to see you together. So what if he’s the one person you don’t want to rip to shreds. It’s not like any of that matters. Right?
“It makes sense!” you say.
“No, it doesn’t. Can I be your boyfriend?”
“Diggory, don’t—”
“Is that a no?”
“Well, no! But you’re being rash! You’ll change your mind, and you’ll want your flower back!”
He shakes his head. “No. I gave you a flower because I think you’re very wonderful and very beautiful and I want to be your boyfriend.”
“But…”—he’s very amused by the fact that he’s made you flustered—“I sweat a lot!”
“So do I,” he chuckles, “we do play quidditch together, I hope you know.”
“Okay, okay, fine. We… argue!” you chirp.
“And you’re almost always right! Problem solved,” he says, “Now, would you be my girlfriend or do I have to get down on my knees?”
“No! I mean, yes! No, no, no knees, just… yes. I will be your girlfriend.”
Cedric smirks, taking the flower from your still open palm and tucking it behind your ear. Yesterday, he could barely say hello to you, and now he’s pulling you closer and tilting your chin up. His heart flutters when you palm his waist, and you smile when he leans a little closer.
“Are you going to kiss me?” you hum. He chuckles.
“Only if you’d like.”
You roll your eyes and smile. “Naturally.”
masterlist
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latteart98 · 6 months
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That’s it, this is the post.
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quotergirl19 · 16 days
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Hello gorgeous!
Colin is in for it muahahaha!!!
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feyreswaterybowels · 15 days
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⭒The Silent One⭒
#2 Azriel x Fem!OC
⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.
Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.
Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.
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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.
Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.
She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.
It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—
Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.
“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”
Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.
“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”
Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.
She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.
Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.
The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.
She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.
Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.
She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.
She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.
She didn’t leave her room the following day either.
Or the day after that.
No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.
And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.
When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.
Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.
When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.
There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.
“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.
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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.
Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.
“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.
Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.
She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.
“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.
“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.
“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”
She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.
“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.
She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.
“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.
Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.
There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.
“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.
Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.
Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.
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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.
Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.
“I’ve never had this much food before…”
Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.
“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.
“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.
It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.
She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.
Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.
It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.
Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.
“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”
“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”
“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”
“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”
Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.
“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.
Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.
“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”
“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”
Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.
“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.
“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.
“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.
Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.
“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”
Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.
“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.
“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.
“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.
“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”
“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?
“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.
Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.
“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”
Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.
All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.
“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.
She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.
She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.
It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.
“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.
Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”
She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.
“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”
Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.
“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.
The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.
She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.
“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.
“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.
“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”
Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.
tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94
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mydairpercabeth · 4 months
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the way they look at each other needs to be studied in a lab
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teamhandsometcth · 1 month
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A Monégasque Story (Part 5) - Charles Leclerc
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
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Summary of the series - Y/n is Charles' best friend little sister. They grew up together but haven't seen each other's for years. Their relationship seems to take a different turn when Charles stay at her's and her brother's.
Warning - Both Y/n's and Charles' POV, Fem reader, Both Charles and Y/n speaking French (translated) tension, tooth rotting fluff, three years age gap, mature content, 18+, brother's best friend, friends to lovers, she felt first he felt harder...
Disclaimer: I'm French and my English is NOT perfect ! ⚠️ Please don't stole or repost my stories on any other sites. Btw reblogs are more then welcomed.
Charles’ POV
I feel her breath hitch slightly as I delicately trace over the delicate skin of her back. I wonder how often she moisturizes for her body to feel so smooth.
Why am I thinking about that? That’s such a weird thing to think about.
I shake it off, concentrating yet again on my task.
I’ve never really given anyone a massage before. I don’t even know where this proposition came from. I just really wanted her to join me on my run, and I wanted to do something in return that would be pleasurable for her. That’s the first thing I thought about that was appropriate.
When I was in the bathroom earlier, I looked up some massage tips on Google, trying to learn rather quickly how to make her feel good.
And it did come in handy for some stuff, sadly enough I forgot most of them. I tried to memorize a bit more when she got to her room to change but she was really quick.
So I'm trying my best with the little knowledge I have. I really want her to relax and have a great time.
I feel a spot on her right shoulder that seems a bit tense, so I insist on it a little, trying to follow the instructions I remember. Going delicately over the spot, and slowly increasing the pressure of my thumbs.
She lets out what I think is a muffled moan. Her head pressing further into the mattress. I smile knowing what I did felt good for her.
She whispers an embarrassed sorry, tensing up immediately.
I shake my head “No, no don’t apologize, I'm happy that you’re liking it, I just want you to feel good.” I smooth my hands up and down her back soothingly, feeling her gradually loosening under me.
“That’s it love, just relax.” The nickname slips out of my mouth before I can think twice about it.
It seems to happen a lot lately.
I start massaging the spot on her shoulder again once she’s completely relaxed. Taking my time to feel around the tenseness, working on it cautiously.
She slightly turns her previously hidden face on the mattress. I catch a tiny satisfied smile making its way on her lips.
She makes eye contact, making me smile down at her. “You’re adorable.” I state suddenly, just because it’s what I was thinking. Sometimes I have the impression that there’s no filter between my brain and my mouth when it comes to her.
It’s probably how five years ago I ended up telling her I liked her just before she flew to Paris. I had the worst timing known to man and messed everything up.
The truth is that I did not even think she would be saying it back. I was just trying to get it off my chest.
But then she flew to Paris, my first season in F1 started and I beat myself up every day for not saying it before.
Her cheeks grow slightly red at the compliment, and she just closes her eyes, relaxing completely under my touch.
I work on her shoulder a little more and progressively make my way down her back. Massaging the zones that are tenser, before smoothing my palms up and around so she knows that I'm done with her upper body.
I gently start to knead the skin on her hips, putting a bit more pressure, making her sigh happily.
“Could you maybe go slightly lower, just under the spot you’re at. I have this tension in my lower back… almost on my tailbone since yesterday after jumping from the boat.” She lets out hesitantly, as if she was still contemplating on asking me while she was already in the process of doing it.
“Here?” I ask after going a little lower.
She shakes her head “No not quite” I try again going even lower stopping once I reach the spot on her tailbone. She sighs. “Right here”
My fingers are brushing against the towel that lays over her bum as I timidly massage the indeed really tense area.
I work on it for a while, until I feel it loosen, then move down to her thighs, starting from the part toward her knees and working upward.
Her thighs are thicker than any other zone of her body, and I did not think I would say that one day but it has been really fun to massage. Her skin just feels so soft and full under my fingertips.
I work my way on her upper thighs cautiously, stopping at her bum.
I avert my eyes as her legs unconsciously squeeze together before loosening up again but farther than before. Giving me a clear view of her swimsuit bottom under the towel.
I just look away trying to remind myself not to read into it. This is just her body reacting to feeling good.
So I just concentrate back on my movement, before moving to her calves.
“Are you ready to turn around?” I ask her softly, seeing the sleepiness on her face.
She nods slightly, before putting her palms flat on the mattress and lifting herself up, before tying back her top that was threatening to reveal her pretty breasts.
She lays back down, getting comfortable with her head on my pillow this time. She pushes away the towel that was on her hips.
I don’t really know what to do now. Massaging her back was easy because I didn’t really see her face. Now with her eyes looking at me wide and soft, it feels way more intimate.
I drop the eye contact and clear my throat, looking around as if I would find a magical solution to make things less awkward.
I look up at her again, ready to make a joke on how she cannot stop looking at me, but my mind changes the minute I cross her gaze.
She harbors an expression similar but at the same time completely different than the minute before. I cannot neither describe nor decipher. A mix between lust and vulnerability.
My attention drops to my forearm as I feel the subtle touch of her hand on my wrist.
I don’t know what changed, but I feel it all around, I see it in her eyes, in her touch and her hazy breath. It’s like her boundaries dropped and she was letting me in for the first time in forever.
I move my hands to either side of her waist, caressing it slightly with my thumbs. Testing her limits.
It gains her attention, she looks down at them before almost immediately gazing back up at me. Her hand still on my wrist playing with my bracelets.
She looks so beautiful. I hadn’t been able to stop looking at her these last few days.
I put my finger under her chin, caressing her jaw with my thumb.
She melts in my hand, her breath hitching which made her mouth part lightly.
Her pupils are so dilated that I struggle to see the color in them.
I close the space between us, placing my lips on hers.
She kisses me back, her hand leaving my wrist to grip the back of my neck.
I bite her lower lip lightly, deepening the kiss. I can’t get enough of her.
Her mouth is so soft and her lips taste like strawberries.
I feel her tongue licking my bottom lip, asking for permission. It’s slow and controlled but at the same time it’s needy and not enough.
I open my mouth, licking her tongue back, before gripping her neck harder, pulling her closer to me.
She pulls away panting, her desiring eyes searching for mine. Opening her legs wider so I can step between them.
So I do, before going for her mouth again. She moans and I swear this is the only thing I want to hear from now on. It’s nothing like the one she let out when I was massaging her, it’s needy and pure longing.
Feeling my pants tighten, I groan against her lips “Tu me rends fou Y/n.“ (You‘re driving me insane)
She grips the hair at the back of my neck, drawing me impossibly close to her.
I pull away from her lips, trailing kisses all over her jaw, while she twirls on my hair harder, breathing heavily.
I bite and suck on her skin wanting to imprint it on her skin.
I don’t even know if I will ever find the words to describe what’s going on in the fuzziness of my mind. It’s deeper than lust, deeper than want. It’s visceral.
I need her all over me, I need her to invade all of my senses. I need to feel her, touch her, hear her… smell her. And damn, she smells so good.
“Charles” she lets out in a pant, her hands trailing all the way down my back, feeling around before coming back up to my neck.
I look up at her for a second, needing to take in her mesmerizing face, before moving from her neck to her breast.
I kiss the top of the left one, feeling the much tender skin under my lips. And move one hand to the right one squeezing it lightly between my palm.
A moan leaves her mouth for the third time tonight, followed by a faint and hazy “Char”
I drop my head in between them, sinking deeper into their plushness. I stay here for a second, loving all around them, before she grips back at my hair, pulling me toward her.
A restless expression lays around her face before she pulls me in for a kiss again.
She slowly pushes her tongue into my mouth, searching for mine and deepening the kiss as much as she could, her hand moving to my sides gripping my hipbones.
We jumpily pull away as an alarm suddenly starts going off. I extend my arm toward Y/N ‘s phone grabbing it for her.
I sigh as I see the contact picture of her and her brother hugging. “It’s Raphael” I let out in an almost panicked voice.
“She immediately sits up, “oh, ok” She grabs the phone in my hand and slides right to answer it.
“Hello…” Raphael's voice is muffled so it’s kind of hard to tell what he’s saying.
“Ok right I’ll see you soon then” she says nervously before hanging up and immediately rushing up.
“So, what did he say?” I ask trying to get some information, but she’s just looking around the room to see if there is any of her stuff “He’s gonna be home in a minute” she lets out rushingly before quickly walking to the door, closing the door behind her.
Raphael gets home five minutes later, Y/N is all cleaned up and changed. Talking so suspiciously, eagerly and with a high pitched tone to her brother that I'm sure even him knows something is up with her.
I try to make eye contact with her. Trying to figure out what she’s thinking, but she immediately glances away, anywhere but at me.
I'm stupid.
To be continued…
(Part 6 coming soon)
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I hope you guys liked it. It’s a bit longer than the last one so I’m happy.
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