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anthrotographer · 1 day

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Review of 'The Time Machine' by H.G. Wells

The stories of H.G.Wells are rich and captivating worlds where he makes the unfathomable seem plausible. Wells uses concepts from the sciences readily in his writing as a base of reality. His protagonists tend to be inquisitive types that posit questions about the state of the world, often giving and testing their hypotheses along a surreal adventure. In The Time Machine our protagonist is simply and ambiguously labeled the Time Traveler. He has just transformed physics forever by creating a vehicle that can fold and traverse spacetime. Now he aims to demonstrate to his civilized friends his unbelievable achievement. In a way this demonstration is both a primer for them and a reassurance for himself that he is not in a fantasy.

“Can an instantaneous cube exist?”

This is a question the Time Traveler asks his dinner party audience in order to introduce the concept of Time as the 4th dimension. He claims you need “duration” for anything to truly exist. If a cube only exists for an imperceptible instant then did it really exist? It’s a question that provokes a bunch of thoughts. How long is an instant? If an instant is measurable then the cube did exist for a time, no? But without the evidence of creation or decay of the cube how can we be certain that it existed? This question is a seemingly untestable hypothetical.

“But you are wrong to say that we cannot move about in Time. For instance, if I am recalling an incident very vividly I go back to the instant of its occurrence: I become absent-minded, as you say. I jump back for a moment. Of course we have no means of staying back for any length of Time, any more than a savage or an animal has of staying six feet above the ground. But a civilized man is better off than the savage in this respect. He can go up against gravitation in a balloon, and why should he not hope that ultimately he may be able to stop or accelerate his drift along the Time-Dimension, or even turn about and travel the other way?"

The idea of memories being a way to time travel brings into thought a swell of philosophy. Is time really just a figment of consciousness. A way for humans to make sense of the world, to traverse it, to learn from it. Many scientists seem to think so (1). A mind altering realization that I can’t truly grasp fully. But what if in a way thinking of time as just a construct of the mind might reveal an ultimate interpretation of this extraordinary tale that’s being told. I’m sure it’s read that way by some.

Also, ‘if ever a creature could figure out time travel it’s humans’, believes the Time Traveler. His distinction between “civilized” man and a “savage” is problematic to say the least, but we’ll revisit that later because it has major bearing on how our protagonist sees the world.

Distinguishing the 4th dimension of Time as another measure of existence (like the 3 Euclidian measures of height, length and width) is a way for the reader, and the dinner party audience, to conceptualize it as a plane that we can move along. Today scientists still haven’t cracked the code of time travel and some contest Time being the 4th dimension at all. (2)(3)

“The peculiar risk lay in the possibility of my finding some substance in the space which I, or the machine, occupied. So long as I travelled at a high velocity through time, this scarcely mattered: I was, so to speak, attenuated— was slipping like a vapour through the interstices of intervening substances! But to come to a stop involved the jamming of myself, molecule by molecule, into whatever lay in my way: meant bringing my atoms into such intimate contact with those of the obstacle that a profound chemical reaction-possibly a far-reaching explosion-would result, and blow myself and my apparatus out of all possible dimensions into the Unknown. This possibility had occurred to me again and again while I was making the machine”

Here the Time Traveler is describing his first, future time warp. Imagine flying through time and seeing your home, and world as you knew it, vanish. It reads as an incredibly disorienting experience. And this possibility of stopping at the wrong time and fusing with some obstruction in his position seems like a massive red flag. The logic that Wells presents shows how deep he went in imagining what time travel would be like. He intuitively analyzed many of the potential pitfalls that could occur.

“What might appear when that hazy curtain was altogether withdrawn? What might not have happened to men? What if cruelty had grown into a common passion? What if in this interval the race had lost its manliness and had developed into something inhuman, unsympathetic, and overwhelmingly powerful? I might seem some old-world savage animal, only the more dreadful and disgusting for our common likeness, a foul creature to be incontinently slain.”

And here begins the traveler’s speculative musings on the futurity of man. I enjoy this aspect of the story in particular because of my own fascination with humanity’s future. Here he contemplates what we might turn into. Projecting forward, knowing that our species has a long history of warring against each other, it would be a safe bet that that would continue. It has for some time. But is it intrinsic to what our species is? One read of this quote is that the Traveler thinks cruelty is currently uncommon, and that we might devolve into being cruel creatures. Wells and the Time Traveler are from England. They grew up as citizens of a colonial power, used to a culture of cruel conquest. They are also used to thinking that to maintain their civilization some other peoples need to be on the sacrificial end. This dichotomic mentality deems all other lives expendable on their route to control, and maybe this line of thinking from the Time Traveler is an example of that mentality bleeding over into his predictions. When I read that last sentence of the quote I couldn’t help but think about the British colonist’s warped rationale for incontinently slaying the indigenous peoples of Australia or N. America. A bit of projection maybe?

Now he’ll actually stop at a time, far different than his own. A moment in time where mother nature’s diversity has been restored, while humanity is “upon the wane.”

“You see I had always anticipated that the people of the year Eight Hundred and Two Thousand odd would be incredibly in front of us in knowledge, art, everything. Then one of them suddenly asked me a question that showed him to be on the intellectual level of one of our five-year-old children- asked me, in fact, if I had come from the sun in a thunderstorm! … A flow of disappointment rushed across my mind. For a moment I felt that I had built the Time Machine in vain.”

The anticipation of a progressive revolution speaks to his belief in humanity’s continued evolution (whatever that means). It can be coming from a societally egoistic perspective or a self-ego perspective, being that the Time Traveler can see himself as a revolutionary inventor. Thinking that we will always be progressing doesn’t take into account the pitfalls that come from our expansion.

I think that Wells actually does a nice job in creating this character that doesn’t get lost in himself too much, and tends to stick to ideas about the world. He rolls with the punches of having some of his hypotheses turn out wrong. He is human of course and does have brief episodes of existential dread, but the plot is more important than character to this story. In a way it is more captivating that way. The protagonist can be an amorphous entity for the reader to plop themselves into to experience the imaginary world of time travel.

Meeting the Eloi people in this moment shatters the glass of that societal ego. Our traveler was so looking forward to ascertaining the future’s wisdom. My interpretation is that The Time Machine is unwittingly prophetic in distinct ways. And that the future’s wisdom is revealed. More to come.

“For the first time I began to realise an odd consequence of the social effort in which we are at present engaged. And yet, come to think, it is a logical consequence enough. Strength is the outcome of need; security sets a premium on feebleness. The work of ameliorating the conditions of life-the true civilising process that makes life more and more secure-had gone steadily on to a climax. One triumph of a united humanity over Nature had followed another. Things that are now mere dreams had become projects deliberately put in hand and carried forward. And the harvest was what I saw!” “Social triumphs, too, had been effected. I saw mankind housed in splendid shelters, gloriously clothed, and as yet I had found them engaged in no toil. There were no signs of struggle, neither social nor economical struggle. The shop, the advertisement, traffic, all that commerce which constitutes the body of our world, was gone. It was natural on that golden evening that I should jump at the idea of a social paradise.”

He finds a world where the small population of Eloi are thought to be our last descendants. There is very little modern architecture left, and even less not fully claimed back by vegetation. Wondering why there are so few people left and why no one is doing any work, he speculates that it might be the logical order of a fully realized civilized world. A utopia of sorts where life is so easy that we have adjusted to a life of physical and mental sloth. The idea of the exponentially increasing civilizing process is a prevalent idea in present day thought. First it assumes that civility = collective good, when practically speaking only a subset of our population benefits from this modernity while the other part either toils to maintain it or gets excluded from it. Which brings up another variable when projecting forward, which is; what happens to class and human exploitation. The trend of modernity, industrialization, civilization or whatever you want to call it hasn’t necessarily been in effort to make life easier in those respects. Some technologies and medicines have of course had positive effects, but toil and hardship has stayed steadfast (4). You can even argue that there were many ‘primitive’ societies that lived more sustainably and with less toil than us (5). What I’m ultimately saying is that “ameliorating the conditions of life” can be helped of course by developments in our understanding about the world (such as in medical science and tech), but that one of those developments has to be an egalitarian and democratic society. At least if we want to shoot for utopia.

Anyway, this timeline of history doesn’t entirely hold up as the Time Traveler searches for more clues.

“Very simple was my explanation, and plausible enough—as most wrong theories are!"

We cannot fully affirm the Time Traveler’s conjecture anymore because he has proven himself fallible. Yet he does make some convincing arguments for certain aspects of the changed world. These must be considered. I like that he’s not an all knowing narrator. He is trying his best to have educated hypotheses about this confusing new age.

“Even in our own time certain tendencies and desires, once necessary to survival, are a constant source of failure. Physical courage and the love of battle, for instance, are no great help—may even be hindrances—to a civilised man.”

Here I agree with him that our proclivity for battle is a negative. I feel linking “physical courage and the love of battle” either doesn’t translate well to today (and I’m not understanding) or they are distinctly separate tendencies. You can be courageous and put your body on the line for the greater good of humanity; hence it wouldn’t be a hinderance. That can be through battle or it can be through other means like protest. And once again the Time Traveler makes a distinction here between civilized man and humanity in general. His use of vocabulary like “savage” and “civilized” throughout the novella depict a man who sees himself as a distinct version of humanity or an entirely different being in general. One that’s superior to other peoples. This thinking is in line with 19th century European views and informs their creation of the defunct classification of race (6).

“The Time Machine was gone! At once, like a lash across the face, came the possibility of losing my own age, of being left helpless in this strange new world.”

After a day getting acquainted with his surroundings he gets this heart stopper. Coming to the conclusion that his invention must have been moved deliberately, he begins his search for the culprit. It couldn’t have been the “indolent” Eloi. He befriends one of them that he names Weena and she joins the traveler on his explorations.

“But, gradually, the truth dawned on me: that Man had not remained one species, but had differentiated into two distinct animals: that my graceful children of the Upper World were not the sole descendants of our generation, but that this bleached, ob-scene, nocturnal Thing, which had flashed before me, was also heir to all the ages.”

His first encounter with the Morlocks, the Eloi’s underground counterparts.

“At first, proceeding from the problems of our own age, it seemed clear as daylight to me that the gradual widening of the present merely temporary and social difference between the Capitalist and the Labourer, was the key to the whole position.”

I had to stop and think about this one. Could it be possible for a class divide of peoples that stretches on for millennia to actually produce distinct creatures? I think 800,000 years is long enough for a species to evolve some changed features, especially moving down into a subterranean environment. Still, the people that lived there would have to have been forced to live there by the upper worlders. In a Capitalist vs laborer dynamic we know from history that uprisings would likely occur amongst the subjugated class which would make it difficult for the dynamic to stay so divided. Especially if the Eloi ancestors were dependent on the labor that the Morlock ancestors were producing, as the traveler hypothesizes. As long as humans have been organizing together there have been some who selfishly try to extract a bigger piece of the pie at the expense of others; at the expense of equality. I think Wells recognizes an existing class divide and extrapolates out from there to create a semi-logical science fiction future. From a capitalist’s perspective having a labor force trapped underground, unable to complain or taint the image of your exclusive eden, seems ideal. This imagery is extremely reminiscent of another classic short story called The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin (7). Wells’ conceives of many possible variables that might’ve shaped his world, but leaves room for a reader to interpret. I want to take some of his prophetic descriptions and offer up my own reading after the following quote.

“I think I have said how much hotter than our own was the weather of this Golden Age. I cannot account for it. It may be that the sun was hotter, or the earth nearer the sun.”

Well Wells, maybe it was hotter because of human induced climate change. There are plenty of anecdotes in the story that describe humanity as the main arbiter of earth’s future changes. We all tend to acknowledge that as a matter of fact. The agricultural and industrial revolutions proved that we, more than any other species, shape the landscape of the world. But having the hindsight of 21st century knowledge really informs how I see The Time Machine. In the story humanity has decreased in numbers drastically, has devolved in its intellectual capacity, and our infrastructures have collapsed. Humans no longer are “progressing” in the modern sense where progress gets unnecessarily linked with expansion, extraction, and exploitation. Perhaps they are just living sustainably like any other creature. I know a small mention about the climate being hotter doesn’t explicitly point to climate change being the culprit for the Eloi’s reality. Still, could it be that the big existential crisis of our time was never remedied and this led to mass degradation of human society? Some of our smartest minds tend to think this is what’s coming for us (8). Maybe the forces of change ran half of humanity underground and that’s what birthed the Morlocks. Maybe traversing time in The Time Machine was in effort to glimpse into our unassured future.

“However great their intellectual degradation, the Eloi had kept too much of the human form not to claim my sympathy, and to make me perforce a sharer in their degradation and their Fear.”

A great example of the simplistic inclination we have to sympathize with who/what-ever looks most like us. It’s not to say it’s not practical because instinctually we gravitate towards our families who of course resemble us the most. But to overlook the science in favor of habit and familiarity has put humanity at odds with itself and the ecosystem. No matter the race, nationality, or however we choose to divide, the science says that we are all practically the same, with the same basic needs and desires. The same is true of us and the rest of the biosphere full of carbon based life forms. Disassociating ourselves from that collective has given us the illusion of invincibility. The repercussions will be severe.

“I felt the intensest wretchedness for the horrible death of little Weena. It seemed an overwhelming calamity. Now, in this old familiar room, it is more like the sorrow of a dream than an actual loss.”

Finally after many dramatic happenings (that I can keep listing but I genuinely recommend you read) the Time Traveler has found his machine and is able to return to a more familiar time. Recounting his experience is almost like thinking on a dream. His friends will hardly believe the tale and maybe some part of himself doesn’t either. Remember, if time is truly a construction of a conscious mind then maybe the time machine was merely a device that allowed the traveler to explore their own minds imagination of a prospective future. An experience akin to a deep psychedelic trip or lucid dreaming. In that case he might have thought that progress was inevitable but subconsciously knew that civilization “must inevitably fall back upon and destroy its makers in the end.” Surely some will think he’s just mad. I choose to believe the traveler’s account and take the revelation as what’s possibly to come on our current path.

“No. I cannot expect you to believe it. Take it as a lie—or a prophecy. Say I dreamed it in the workshop. Consider I have been speculating upon the destinies of our race until I have hatched this fiction. Treat my assertion of its truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest. And taking it as a story, what do you think of it?"

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/is-time-an-illusion/

https://medium.com/@imshub13/why-time-is-not-the-fourth-dimension-c520161ea6d9

https://phys.org/news/2012-04-physicists-abolish-fourth-dimension-space.html

https://books.google.com/books?id=eHT43wfyw-sC&lpg=PA1&ots=edPFq4SIKR&dq=ancient%20hours%20working%20lives&lr&pg=PA13#v=onepage&q=ancient%20hours%20working%20lives&f=false

https://groups.csail.mit.edu/mac/users/rauch/worktime/hours_workweek.html

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4326670/

https://www.ceremade.dauphine.fr/~ekeland/lectures/Mathematical%20Models%20in%20Social%20Sciences/ursula-k-le-guin-the-ones-who-walk-away-from-omelas.pdf

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/environment/article/climate-change-predictions-2070

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#book review #story review #h.g. wells #science fiction #science #time travel #time machine #the time machine #literary quotes #literary analysis #literary fiction

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ourtearsofrain · 1 day

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Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 1

Summary: Almost three years after escaping to New York for college, Danny finally returns to Frankenmuth for the summer, welcomed with open arms by all his family and old friends. All but one. With Sam’s apparent hatred of him, Danny must try to get through the summer with him hanging over his life like a storm cloud, darkening each day spent with their families.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: ANGST, brotherly fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none for this ch? Some shit between Danny and Sam is alluded to but not addressed fully. Also day drinking lol

A/N: I’m so excited to share this new series with y’all, I hope you like it. The series as a whole, as well as specific dialogue/comments/thoughts, are based off a handful of angsty heartbreaking songs that I will post an “unofficial playlist” for, so look for that at the bottom of a masterlist post for this series soon! Make sure to fill out the taglist form in my bio if you want to be tagged in any updates for this or future works! Thanks for reading!

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June 19th, 2020, 5:07 pm.

It had been two years, ten months, and 15 days since Danny had spoken to Sam. Two years, ten months, and 15 days since he had felt fully whole. And two years, ten months, and 15 days full of regret. But who was counting, right?

Danny was. He had begun counting the second he boarded that plane with a one-way ticket out of Frankenmuth, headed straight for “The Big Apple” to start his life over. Away from his family, away from his high school friends and the worst of all, away from Sam. Thankfully Josh had already moved to New York the second he graduated, studying Film Production at Columbia University and practically adopting Danny the second he got there, making sure he was adjusting to the city well and spending as much time with him as their schedules allowed. Coincidentally, Josh’s former roommate had decided to move out right before Danny made the choice to go to New York, leaving the second bedroom of his apartment open for him to fill.

As the distance between Sam and him increased, Danny only became closer to the twins. Even though they had treated him like he was their younger brother ever since he moved in next to the Kiszka’s at age seven, living with Josh who called Jake on facetime every day truly made them the older brothers he had always wished for.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

Danny removes his forehead from the cool glass of the plane window, turning to see a flight attendant standing expectantly in the isle with a too-sweet smile. “Oh, uh no I’m ok, thanks.”

“Alright then. Just letting you know we should be landing in about 20 minutes, so could you please fasten your seatbelt?”

Danny glances down, realizing he hadn’t re-buckled his belt after he had gone to the bathroom to stretch his legs and pull himself together as his family would surely be waiting for him at the luggage return. “Of course, my bad.” He re-buckles it before leaning his head back against the seat as she walks away, closing his eyes and praying that the next few months of his life would pass quickly.

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Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Shit, there it is. Danny rushes to grab his bag, feeling claustrophobic as the luggage return fills with more and more people. Go out the door, find the car. Out the door, find the car. Drive home and pray he’s not there. It takes him mere seconds to find his parents’ car as his mom frantically waves from across the lot, grinning as she darts between the traffic the instant she sees Danny.

She tackles him in a hug as she rocks them back and forth, her grip on him crushing as he tries to keep his balance. “Oh my god you look so good, how was Junior year? Have you been eating enough? Getting out and having some fun right?”

“Hey mom.” He locks his arms around her, hugging her just as tight as he smiles. “It was good, yes I have, and yes I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She pulls away teary eyed, still smiling wide at him. “Oh, I know, but that’s my job. And you haven’t been home for so long, how else am I supposed to know how you’re doing?”

“Yeah… sorry about that. You know how it is, between school and work it’s hard to find the time to get back to Michigan for a long visit.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand in the air as if she were shooing away his apologies, taking Danny’s suitcase in the other as she leads him to the car. “You’re in college, I get it. You have better things to do than visit us. Like go to parties. And date. Meet any cute girls recently?”

His heart sinks at the question, trying to keep his smile from faltering as they reach her car. “Too busy to try and date right now, mom.” He takes the bag from her, easily sliding it into the trunk as she watches him.

“Bullshit. C’mon, you’re a young, attractive guy. You must have some girls in your lectures throwing themselves at you.”

“You know me, I’m too focused on my studies to pay attention to that. It’s fine, I promise. I’m doing good in New York, living with Josh has been great, I’ve made some good friends. Dating just isn’t at the top of my priorities right now.” He hopes that his explanation will be enough for his mom to drop the topic as they get into the car, her prying being in good intention but only resurfacing old wounds.

“Oh! Speaking of, Karen and Kelly are having a barbeque tonight to celebrate you, Jake and Josh coming home for the summer. Your dad would have come with me to get you but he’s at their place right now helping set up.”

“Great, that’s great. Can’t wait to see everyone again.” Not everyone. Danny tries to keep his mind away from him as he listens to his mom talk throughout the drive, the pit in his stomach only growing as they turn down more and more familiar streets. A small weight lifts off his shoulders when he doesn’t see him in the front yard as they pass the Kiszka’s house, pulling into his childhood home’s driveway, his thoughts louder than his mother’s voice as they get out of the car.

“Danny?”

“Hm?”

“I said, do you want to go settle in and freshen up before you head over?”

“Oh, yeah that’d be great. Sorry, didn’t hear you, must be jetlagged.”

“You’re ok, it’s alright if you need to take a nap before tonight, everyone will completely understand. It took Josh a day to sleep off the travel.”

Danny snorts as he extends the handle of his suitcase, closing the trunk with the other hand. “Yeah, I bet he did. I swear, he gets tired from taking the subway for 15 minutes, can’t imagine him traveling on a plane without at least two naps. Should be alright though, thanks.”

“Of course. Alright, I’m going to go over to the Kiszka’s and let them know you’re here, see if they need any help and all that. The fridge and pantry are stocked up if you need a snack, and your room’s just as you left it.”

“Thanks, mom. Love you, see you in a few.”

“Love you too, Daniel. Don’t take too long.” Her tone is light, joking as she spares a glance behind her to smile before disappearing into the backyard.

It’s just a few hours, it’ll be fine. I can avoid him all night, there should be enough people to do that easily. Just a few hours and then I don’t have to see him all summer. Except he lives next door. And his older brothers are my closest friends and roommate. And our parents are friends. Should be easy to avoid him, right? God, I’m fucking screwed.

The second he reaches his room, he faceplants into his bed, nearly toppling off the edge of the twin after getting accustomed to his queen bed in New York. Rolling onto his back, he finally takes the room in. It was exactly how he left it the last time he visited, unchanged from when he lived there, like everything had frozen in time as he continued on. Everything in his room reminded Danny of a simpler time, of him. Of laying side by side on his too small bed, talking for hours as they stared up at the soft yellow of the Neil Young Harvest poster hung on the ceiling. The old acoustic guitar in the corner they would trade back and forth on his floor for hours now sat dusty and unused. The singe mark on the wood of his windowsill from the time they got too high and let the end of their joint burn out on it. He was everywhere, in everything. Danny could never escape him no matter how far he went, everything always circled back to him. He could grow and change and learn, but Frankenmuth would forever be there to remind him of everything that once was.

Might as well get up and get the party over with instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself. At the thought, Danny slides off his bed, landing hard on the ground before forcing himself up to find something to change into. After travelling all day, he was eager to get out of his loose jeans and sweatshirt, knowing it was too nice of a day to be comfortable wearing that outside.

He opens his suitcase unenthusiastically, hoping that he had remembered to pack at least one pair of shorts. Thankfully, he had, and he finds his (quite short) yellow shorts and his Howlin’ Wolf muscle tee in no time, changing quickly and slipping into his old, slip on vans before trudging down the stairs and out the front door, heading straight for the Kiszka’s backyard.

“DANNY!” The second he walks through the side gate, Danny only sees the blur of Jake before he slams into him, knocking the wind from his lungs as he loses his footing, falling backwards and pulling Jake down with him.

When he catches his breath, Danny wraps his arms around the other man with a grin as they lay on the soft grass. “Jake! Great to see you, man. Missed you.”

Jake loosens his grip before getting up and offering Danny a hand to pull him up. “Missed you too, it’s been way too long.”

“DANNY!” This time it’s Josh who slams into him, practically jumping into his arms as Danny catches him. “I’ve missed you so much, it’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other.” He fake sobs into his neck, pulling out everything he learned from the years of theater he did in high school to put on his act.

“We live together, Josh. I saw you three days ago.” Danny’s voice is flat, but he can’t help a smile from creeping onto his face as Josh pulls away from him grinning.

“Yeah, I know, but I still missed you.” After Danny makes his rounds of teary hugs with his dad, Karen, and Kelly, he looks around the yard, hating himself for noticing his absence.

“Sam’s inside cutting some watermelon, he’ll be out soon.” Karen says with a smile, picking up on what he was looking for and thinking her comment was helpful.

“Oh, great. That’s great.” They don’t know. He never told them.

“C’mon Danny, Josh and I started day drinking an hour ago, you gotta catch up to us.”

“Jacob!” Karen swats his arm as he passes her, already on his way to start making a drink for Danny.

“What? He’s 21 now, it’s legal.”

Danny’s smile is wiped clean off his face as he hears the back door slide open, turning to see Sam standing frozen in the doorframe with a large bowl of watermelon in his hands. Say something. Say something or it’ll be weird. “Hey Sam.”

Sam’s expression is as flat as his voice when he speaks. “Daniel.”

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taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #daniel gvf #sam gvf #sanny gvf #greta van angst #greta van fluff #sam kiszka x danny wagner #sam kiszka #danny wagner

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aloeverified · 5 months

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daring being the equivalent to a pg-13 fuckboy was really funny, but i think it would've been so sad and compelling if he geniuely was in love with apple.

they know they're destined to be together, they grew up together and have talked about their relationship many times. they agreed to not date until their destiny takes its course, as apple is paranoid about messing with their story and doing anything ahead of time.

daring sees how hard she works and how far she goes to strive for perfection; following ever task her mother gives her, always being ontop of her studies, never missing a chance to be kind and help others. she inspires him to do the same; topping his sword-fighting classes, using his strength and athletic skills to help others, always seizing the chance to save the day and protect others.

daring falls more and more in love with her each passing year, whereas apple just keeps waiting for the feeling to come to her. she reasons that she doesn't feel anything for daring because he hasn't awoken her from her coma and swallow her worries.

many people still fall for daring, but he tells them his heart is taken and his destiny is sealed: apple white is the only girl for him, and it's his duty to stay loyal to his future wife.

perhaps apple even visits the charming kingdom often, under the guise of spending time with her future in-laws to get away from the heavy pressure she faces at home. she grows closer with darling during these times, who admires apple and her ability to be satisfied with the royal life and expectations she has as a princess.

i think daring could still have a few small and tender moments with other girls, such as his admiration for cerise — but he does his best to push those feelings aside, maybe even feels guilty for them.

it's only after he fails to awaken apple in dragon games, where he is able to start his process on moving on. he agonizes over not being her prince, as it changes everything he knows: his destiny, his true love, and even the fact that he would participate in an out of destiny romance (something so taboo to a royal such as himself).

when finally given the chance to do so, daring asks apple if she loves him — if she ever had or ever could, in the same way he loves her. they have a long conversation, one that ends with both of them in tears. apple does daring, but she's not in love with him. she's always known there was something different about her when she didn't long for her prince charming like other princesses did, and now thanks to darling, she knows why.

daring learns how to move on. it's a tedious process, and one that hurts, but he moves on. and so does apple. he still loves her, and she still loves him. only now, they also love themselves.

#i hope this doesn't come across as me trying to make daring the victim in the situation where apple is a lesbian #i just think that with all the topics eah talks about it would also be really interesting to see how they handle moving on from #being in love with someone #and respecting their boundaries as well as understanding that no one owes you reciprocation #not only that but i feel like a lot of people overlook how daring essentially had the rug pulled out from under him #everything he thought he knew was wrong and he had his whole future taken away in the blink of an eye #bro is grieving #ever after high #dapple #dappling #daring charming #apple white #darling charming #eah headcanons #aloeverants

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be-good-to-bugs · 14 days

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i need to go to bed but i dont wannnaaaaa

#the bin #i work at 7am and its 1:23 am i have GOT to go to bad but ugh. if i go to bed then that means ill have to go to work as sokn as im conscious #so the longer i stay up the more time i have. but km gonna be so tired at work. hhhhh.#i dont know why but ive felt so horrible today. super anxious. miserable and really sad #im trying to just deal with it. soon enough things are gonna change. its only 34 days till my planned moving date. i will only bave like 20 #more shifts at this job. maybe less depending on what i get given. including tomorrows shift. and tomorrows shift is only 5 hours long #and the day after its only 4 hours and then i have 2 more days off. itll be ok. but i still feel so anxious and depressed and awful #i just wanna stay home and be high all the time. i feel so lonely always. literally the only thing that helps me not feel completely crushed #and paralyzed by how lonely i am is getting high. i know its not healthy to rely on getting high to feel better about stuff but idk what #else to do so who cares. when i dont do anything about it i i stead end up relapsing or worse so i think its an ok option #i hope i can meet nice people this year. year after year it doesnt happen but so much has changed!#it makes sense i havent met people since i moved out. and everything is so different from wwhen i last lived with them #all my siblings are in school. they have people over at the hair a fair bit afaik. my dad wont be there to me make feel awful. my sister #also wont be there to me me feel awful. i can figure something out. itll be ok. it has to be.#i just want to squeeze someone. i just want like. a hug. a good cuddle. and i need to talk to someone. its been so long since u had an actul #fun time hanging out with another person. i need to watch a movie with someone and joke around and. ugh.#how did my life reach this point? what happened that resulted in me spending ages 10-19 all alone. im not even 19 yet but i will be soon #and theres not a chance ill meet someone before then esp bc im moving. when i was little i didnt have mych friends but i had some #i had such high hopes for the future. i also thought the future would be terrible but i imagined id still have friends and peopwl to talk to #all ive wanted sincei was 10 is just to have people to talk to and hangout with. but i dont have a single friend. i can hardky name anyone #besides my family and coworkers. and like aa couple of my sisters friends. there isnt even like people i know who i dont really consider #friends but we talk sometimes. if i dont go to work. call my mom. or tex a sibling. i dont see or talk to anyone period #i guess unless i go to the store. that doenst really count tho.#i want to have a friends group. i want to have A friends. just like. a person. to interact with. what happened that made mw spend the past #8 years just not interacting with anyone? whats wrong with me.#its fine tho. becausebit will change. i acan heal from this and i can meet people. even if half my conscious life has been spent all alone #it will get better. it has to.

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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months

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I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all

Benefit of the doubt

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1760

A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!

I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)

Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!

Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!

You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.

You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…

You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.

The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.

Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer

And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.

You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.

How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.

You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.

That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.

Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.

He rejected you outright.

“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.

Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”

“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”

“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.

“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.

You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.

“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”

Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.

“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.

The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.

It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…

“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”

He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.

“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice

“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“

“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.

“Sorry…”

“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”

His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down

Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.

Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.

The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.

“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”

Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.

Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.

“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.

“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.

Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.

But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.

“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”

You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”

To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head

“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”

“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”

“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.

Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.

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bat-boys · 1 month

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forever, my love

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, mentions of battle and war, references to depression, smut (fingering) but it's romantic, angst but also fluff.

summary: you and Azriel had seen many battles over the centuries but when something goes wrong and has a lasting impact on you, Az promises to take care of you.

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first fic! here's another one! I promise next time I'll write something happier haha, suggestions are welcome! I hope you enjoy.

The cruel, unyielding symphony of battle swelled in you as you continued to swing your sword at the enemies in front of you. Grunts of pain and screams of frustration left your lips as you continued to carve a path through the soldiers in your way, desperately trying to hold the line as Cassian had commanded.

Your body moved automatically, thanks to the centuries of muscle memory drilled into you from the intense training and the many battlefields you had found yourself on during your long life. In recent decades, you may have taken a step back from helping to command the Night Court armies and turned your attention to training the next legion of warriors and aiding your spymaster in more covert missions. Still, your body would always remember the steps needed in battle. It would never shrink from charging head first.

Once, you had been told you were beautiful to watch in battle—second only to Cassian himself as you danced your way through enemy hordes. But now, as you cut through another bottleneck of soldiers, you could only focus on keeping yourself alive, so you were extremely exhausted.

Step, swing, push, slash, pivot, hit.

As you managed to gut the last soldier in front of you, you allowed yourself a small moment of reprieve to collect your thoughts and take a gulp of air. The sound of battle raged around you, and you could faintly see your friends and allies around you, diligently fighting for a future you had only just battled for a mere handful of years ago. You sent a pulse down that precious thread, tucked deep within your heart and nodded your head in relief when you felt a responding pulse from the male on the other end. Alive. He was still alive. That's all that mattered at the moment.

You heard a shout close beside you and watched an Illyrian soldier, who had been grounded due to semi-shredded wings, fight off a group of soldiers starting to swarm around him. Taking a deep breath, you sheathed your long blade and palmed the knives strapped to either thigh.

Winnow, slash. Winnow, stab. Winnow, swing. Your High Lady herself had taught you this particular move after you had seen her yourself face enemies from a different war, a different conflict. You kept the image of your friends smiling at Feyre as she had embarrassingly walked you through how she did it, blushing furiously at your instance in teaching you at the forefront of your mind, and you continued to dance to the sound of the battle's symphony.

That was the future you continued to fight for, and you were determined to protect it.

…

Your entire body heaved as you shoved your blade through the chest of the last soldier in front of you. The sounds of battle were quietening and dying out as the last of the enemy horde were tied up or killed.

A groan left your lips as you yanked your blade free and used the last of your power and strength to winnow to the edge of the battlefield. You stumbled as you landed, cursing yourself for letting your power drain so thoroughly during battle. Az would chastise you about that later. Speaking of which…

Where are you? You sent down the bond, waiting for the familiar calm voice to reach your mind. A frown fell on your face as the minutes stretched past, and you didn't hear a response from him.

Az?

You refused to panic just yet. While this was unusual, you knew the moments after a battle was the most crucial for a spymaster as he gathered up defeated enemies to spirit them away for interrogation. He was probably just busy, you reasoned with yourself.

But a small part of your brain also whispered that he always kept the precious channel between you both open and always responded when you called.

You trudged through the mud towards the huge fortress in front of you. It may have been dilapidated and crumbling, but it provided a place where Rhys could gather his allies and forces and not be constantly caked in dirt and mud from his war camp. Once, it had probably been beautiful, home to some illustrious High Fae family, but now it was home to tired soldiers and had clearly seen much better days.

Azriel. You tried again to reach your mate through the bond, your heart thundering louder in your chest when you didn't receive a response. This time, you stretched your consciousness along that bridge…and slammed into a cold stone wall on the other end. Panic began to claw up your throat, but you refused to give in. He was probably busy with Rhys or Cassian; you desperately tried to reason with yourself as you sheathed your heavy blade into the scabbard strapped to your back and walked up the stone steps to the bustling entrance of the fortress.

"Injured that way, please!" You heard the familiar voice of your High Lady directing her people from inside the entrance. She turned around, and you saw her face relax in relief as she spotted you, "Y/N. Oh, thank the cauldron, you're alright."

Feyre was wearing her Illyrian leathers, her hair windswept and looking just as tired as you felt. She walked towards you, and you hugged her tightly, grateful to see one of your dearest friends safe and sound. You gently manoeuvred around the bow strapped to her back as she hugged you back just as fiercely. Much to everyone's surprise and yours and Rhys' amusement after the war with Hybern Feyre had mastered the notoriously tough Illyrian bow - why anyone doubted her after her past in the human realm you were still confused by. You had seen her sweeping over the battlefield today and dispatching enemies, saving your life more times than you cared to admit. Her flying wasn't strong enough to join in with the Illyrian legions yet, but she had become invaluable on the battlefield once again.

"You looked awesome up there today." You both grinned at each other, warriors recognising each other, "where is everyone?"

"Amren and Mor are in the war chamber, exhausted but ok. Cassian was dropping off a soldier to the hospital wing."

"Az?"

"I thought he was with you?" A quick shake of your head had her face falling, "Ok, he's probably busy with clean up - let me see if Rhys can reach him."

"Thank you," you whispered, and she squeezed your shoulder and kissed your cheek before going back to directing people coming through the entrance.

You jumped as you felt a bigger, wider hand fall on your shoulder but relaxed when you turned to see Cassian grinning down at you. Not the Illyrian warrior you were desperate to see but still a fucking welcome sight.

"You saved our asses out there, as usual, tiny angry one." You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you hundreds of years ago as you let him pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Glad to see you survived another battle, General, and without getting yourself torn to shreds."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up you." He teased as he gently pushed your shoulder. You may be Az's right-hand woman with his spy network now, but you were Cassian's second in command first. A formidable warrior whose name struck fear into your enemy's hearts, renowned for being utterly ruthless in combat and undefeated. How long ago it now felt when you and Cassian had first led the armies in that war hundreds of years ago.

"Have you seen Az?" You hated how quiet your voice sounded, but you struggled to keep the panic at bay.

"No," Cass frowned, "is he still out there?"

"I don't know, I can't reach him." You whispered, and immediately you felt Cassian shift, ready to head back out there and find his brother - could see the panic that settled in his eyes at the thought of finding him dead on the battlefield.

"Let's not panic yet. We'll go find Rhys, and we can set up a patrol-"he continued to talk to you, laying out a plan before you, but you couldn't hear him. Couldn't hear over the sound of your own panic as you tried to not give in to the fear that was eating away at your heart. You absolutely refused to even think for a minute that he was dead. But why was the bond cold? Why hadn't he gotten in touch, and why hadn't anyone seen him since the battle ended?

You turned your head to the side, ready to throw up the small amount of food you had choked down earlier, when-

Y/N! You froze as you heard a familiar roar and couldn't place if it was something you had heard echoed around the stone room or through that precious bond you shared.

Immediately, you turned from Cassian toward the sound of that shout, and your knees nearly buckled when you finally spotted Azriel walking through the fortress's entrance, bathed in his shadows.

His eyes were wild as he scanned the room, looking for you. His hair was matted to his sweaty forehead, blood coated his face, and he was stalking forward with a slight limp. But he was alive. Alive.

"Az." You had barely whispered his name, but you watched as his eyes snapped to you, and something broke in his carefully carved facade as his gaze took you in. Pure, undiluted, raw relief settled on his face as he realised you were still here, unhurt and standing.

Sobbing, you left your friend behind and ran towards your mate. He just stopped where he stood and held his arms out, catching you as you barrelled into him. He rocked ever so slightly back as he caught you, a testament to the exhaustion seeping through his body, but you felt that primal part of you that had been thrashing around your heart ease as his arms circled around you tightly and he buried his head in your hair - breathing you in.

"I thought I had lost you." You sobbed as you pushed your face into his neck, breathing in that comforting smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know, baby, I know." His beautiful, scarred hands gently stroked down your blood-soaked and matted hair as he continued to mumble, "I'm here. I'm safe. We're safe."

"What happened?" you asked as you pulled away ever so slightly from his body, letting your feet hit the unforgiving stone floor. Azriel's face was so tender, so soft, as his hands came up to cup your face. You watched, giving him a minute to scan your face for any injuries. A sigh left his lips when he noticed that you were largely unharmed apart from the usual cuts and scraps from battle.

"Faebane," he muttered darkly, and you gasped. "One of the soldiers had some and threw it on my face when I got close. Clearly, they haven't got much, and it's a diluted solution leftover from the war with Hybern as it cleared quite quickly, but still…this is something we now have to factor in."

"I couldn't feel you down the bond." Your voice hitched.

"I couldn't feel you either, sweetheart, I didn't know if you still breathed. I was so scared." Another sob slipped through your lips, one of sadness but also one of relief as you gripped his Illyrian leathers and pulled him closer - unable to stand any distance between you. You rose up on your shaky legs and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss wasn't sweet or tender; it was demanding and all-consuming. It was a kiss between two mates who had been terrified that after their years of searching, they had lost each other. You felt the rumble of Azriel's moan as you tilted your head to get better access to his lips. His hand reached up to cup your head to hold you in place as he licked into your mouth, and his arm snapped around you as your legs finally gave out and caught you before you sank to the floor.

You broke away gently, not going far as you rested your foreheads together. Your bodies heaved as you sucked in air for what felt like the first time since the battle ended. You closed the distance again to press your lips to his again, once, twice, thrice.

"I can't do this anymore, Az." You whispered, tears slipping down your face. Tears that Azriel captured with his thumbs as he looked at you with such devastation, "the wars, the battles, not knowing whether our friends are alive, not knowing if you are still alive. I have never felt so old."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

You both sighed as you felt the soldier hovering near you, waiting to catch your attention. Once, you would have known every soldier's name, but now you just had a vague recollection of his face. "Azriel. Y/N. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rhysand has requested your presence."

Az pulled away slightly to nod at the soldier, who offered you both a respectful salute before leaving. You felt his scarred hand drift down your arm to grip your hand. You felt his squeeze, and you squeezed back, "Come on, love, let's go get this over with, and then let me take care of you."

…

The fortress was quieter now, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next attack; the next moment, you would all be dragged out onto the battlefield again to face your enemies. You and Az had been stuck in meetings for hours after that initial reunion, and you had felt so hollow as your friends recounted what they saw throughout the day, the tactics the enemies were using and how you stood a chance at defeating them once and for all if you hold strong. You hadn't let go of Az's hand the entire time, only letting go once he had told his story about the faebane and he had seen tears slipping down your cheeks again and had pulled you into his arms.

A sadness clanged through your chest as you watched all of your friends that afternoon once the allies from other courts had left for their own war camps. Even through the exhaustion, the court of dreamers was still fighting, even though you had all been on the battlefield in a different war only a handful of years ago.

Azriel had made good on his promise. The minute Rhys commanded you to rest, Azriel gripped your cold hand and pulled you towards the room down the hall you were sharing. Immediately, he had asked a passing soldier to grab you a plate of food, something warm, before strolling into the room and firmly closing the door behind him. With such gentle hands, he had taken your frozen body and sat you down on the impressive four-poster bed in the centre of the room, your body sinking deeply into the comfy mattress.

He firmly pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before moving away to stoke the fire that someone had forethought to start while you were in meetings. Once satisfied, he quickly looked back over his shoulder at you - to check you were ok - before moving into the expansive bathing chamber. You could hear his footsteps on the tiled floor and the water gushing out of the taps into the large bathtub, but you couldn't stop the fear from clawing up your throat. Panic began to settle in again because he was out of sight.

What your enemies would think at the mighty Y/N reduced to this quivering mess.

Just as you couldn't take the roaring in your head anymore, at the nausea swirling in your stomach, and were about to get up to run to his arms again, Azriel stepped back into the room. You must have been shouting down the bond again because he had a soft, sad look on his face.

"I'm here, sweetheart." A whimper left your lips as you flew from the bed into his arms again, unable to get enough of the feeling of him, of being safe with him. His hand skated up and down your spine again, mumbling soothing words and pressing his lips into your hair: "I've drawn you a warm bath; come on."

You hadn't realised how much you had been shivering or how long you had been cold until the idea of settling into warm water felt so appealing. He smiled at you as he took your hands and guided you into the large bathing chamber. The bathtub sat in the middle of the room, large enough for not only you but also to accommodate wings, you realised. A soft smile fell on your lips at the thought.

In a comfortable silence that you and Az had always been able to enjoy, he gently began to unbuckle your damp and blood-encrusted leathers. With slow, methodical movements, he pulled the material from your body before throwing it into a basket in the corner of the room. You watched, your breathing shallow as Az ran his soft fingers up the exposed skin of your arms before hooking under the strap of your bra and removing it carefully from your body. Only then did his fingers skate down the soft valley of your breasts, over your abdomen, before slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear and slipping them down your thighs. Az had seen you in every state and had marked every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue, but this moment, him undressing you as you tried desperately to keep yourself from shattering, was the most intimate thing you had shared. It was warm and sweet, flecked with starlight.

That same warm smile was still on his lips as he took your hand and guided you into the warm water in the bathtub. An appreciative groan left your lips as your feet, legs, and body were submerged in comforting, warm water.

You turned around and grinned at your mate as you watched him unbuckle his own leathers and shuck them off his body. You couldn't help gazing appreciatively at his body, that body you also knew as well as your own: the proud contours of his shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms, his chiselled abdomen, the thick, powerful thighs. He truly was sculpted by the gods themselves.

Az silently padded over to the bathtub, slipping into the warm water himself before resting against one end and gently slipping his arm around your waist to pull you against him - your back pressed tightly against his chest.

With a gentleness that you know would shock so many people, he reached to grab the washcloth and soap from the side before he lathered them up and softly washed the mud and blood from your body. He took his time, kneading his hands into your aching muscles. He even undid your tattered braid and carefully washed the blood and dirt from your hair. The moment was so loving and beautiful after what happened earlier in the day that you couldn't help the tears that silently slipped from your eyes and tracked down your cheeks.

Once you were both clean, he pulled you flush against his chest again, letting you lean against him with your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of being this close to him in the warm water. You idly traced the scars on his hand underneath the water where it was resting against your stomach whilst his other hand slid up and down your thigh, over your hip and up your body.

"I love you, Az." You whispered into the soft silence that had settled between you.

"I love you too, baby." You felt him press a kiss to your temple.

After today, after the horrors you had seen, after the panic that had coursed through your veins, you needed to feel something more. He wasn't close enough; you needed to feel him. Without saying a word, you lifted your free hand to gently grip the hand that was trailing up and down your body, stopping it in its lazy movements to slowly place it closer to that now throbbing part of you at the apex of your thighs.

"Sweetheart?" He questioned quietly. You could sense through the bond his willingness to touch you and feel his want with the way his erection was pressed against your lower back. But he needed to check that you really wanted this and that he wouldn't overstep some line, especially after today.

"Please, Az. I need you." You whimpered as you felt his slender fingers skim along your inner thigh.

"Relax, sweetheart, let me make you feel good." He rumbled against you as he gently began to press kisses under your ear, at that sweet spot he had found on that first night all those years ago. Your chest heaved as you felt his calloused fingertips trace up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, and along your bikini line before sensually slipping down to trace your slit.

A soft hiss escaped your lips at the feeling of his fingers so close to where you needed him most, a whimpering, "Please," leaving your lips as he chuckled behind you. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear and caused a shiver to run down your spine.

"I have worshipped your body for centuries, love," Azriel murmured, his strong nose nudging the side of your head so he could begin placing open-mouthed, hot kisses down your neck, "and I never get tired of hearing those noises you make when I touch you."

You whined softly when Azriel moved his hand, but it was quickly silenced when you felt him suck on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder as his strong hand gripped your thigh to move it to the outside of his so he had better access to you.

One of his slender fingers returned to your centre and traced your slit once again before gently swirling around that bundle of nerves. A curse ripped from your lips as your hips bucked at the contact, and another primal chuckle rumbled up Azriel's chest at your delicious reaction.

Azriel continued to swirl his finger ever so gently over your clit, every now and then applying the smallest amount of pressure and causing a sharp cry to leave your lips as white-hot pleasure shot up your body. It wasn't enough; he was teasing, and you needed your body to shatter in a way you were familiar with.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you need." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren't wound up so tightly, you might have called him out on it.

"Your fingers, Az. Please." You whimpered.

"Because you asked so nicely." He mumbled into your skin as he gently slid one finger into your core. A sharp cry left your lips at the feeling of those scars creating the most delicious friction against your walls.

He set a slow but deep pace as he pumped his finger inside you, his thumb still drawing figures of eight on your clit. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, your toes curling as you felt Azriel taking you higher and higher. His hand that you had been gripping, resting against your stomach, slid up your body to cup your breast. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he expertly rolled your nipples between his fingers and tweaked them in the way he knew you liked. You could feel that familiar crest of your orgasm approaching, and he had barely touched you. So expertly knew your body. You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to do much but go limp against him.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered, and you turned to face him and saw that raw emotion on his face again, an emotion that mirrored yours. As he slipped another finger inside you, curling his fingers to reach that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you reached up to grip his hair and press your lips to his.

You felt him grin against you as you kissed him, your hips undulating and rolling against his fingers to meet his lazy thrusts. The kiss was full of teeth and passion, and you felt the rising tide of your pleasure as you writhed against him. A cry left your lips as you felt yourself reaching the top of the wave, your mind turning foggy and hips bucking sloppily as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Let go, love, cum for me." His words, whispered lowly in your ear, his tone dripping lust and awe, and the soft thrust he gave behind you that had you feeling how much he was enjoying seeing you like this, caused that band in your body to snap and the pleasure he had been slowly building crest and shatter. Pure, white, hot pleasure sparked throughout your body, sending every nerve-ending alight as your orgasm washed over you. Chants of his name left his lips as your back arched and your hips thrashed as he continued to pump his fingers deliciously inside you.

After what felt like hours, the wave of pleasure began to subside and be replaced with a bone-deep satisfaction. A sigh left your lips as you slumped back against your mate, his arms catching you - as they always did - and pulling you close to him. You felt Azriel mumbling your name whilst pressing soft kisses to your temple, cheek and jawline.

"Rest, love. There will be time for more later. I promise." It was that promise you clung to as you rested against your mate and let your body relax in the cooling water of the bath.

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months

Text

Practice On Me — Part Ten — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Poor Rhys gets cockblocked. Cassian and Azriel come to blows. Realisations dawn on Az that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kaeda’s not very good with rejection. Reader receives some unexpected support.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Depictions of violence and injury.

The male’s hand has found pride of place in Rhysand’s lap.

Currently, it sits on his thigh, but the temptation to inch it closer — closer — to that sweet prize between his legs is a lusty, burgeoning one.

A shame, truly, that they’re currently fully clothed and in the middle of the busy mead hall.

Rhys chews and swallows a mouthful of his dinner, a smirk toying with his lips as he glances at his most recent sexual conquest.

There’s enough heat in that gaze to set the whole of Windhaven blazing.

Zakai is a very pretty male, indeed, with rich dark skin and thick, long eyelashes for days. His tempting appearance is most certainly exacerbating this current haze of lust that has taken over him as of late, driven by a preference for males. It changes every now and then. Sometimes he favours males, other times he favours females.

Whatever takes his fancy, there’s always somebody to warm his bed.

“I do believe,” the future High Lord purrs, “that you’re trying to distract me from my dinner.”

Zakai’s full lips kick up into a smirk. “Maybe I am.”

“How terrible.” He leans in closer. “Depriving me of a nutritional meal. What of my sustenance?”

Zakai also leans in. “I have something else you can wrap that pretty mouth around. I think you’ll find it to be more than adequate.” So boldly, as if no one else is around, he snaps out and drags Rhys’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Rhys makes a low noise, food all but forgotten—

But a kiss never comes to fruition as they’re shoved apart, and Cassian is slotting himself between them. “Your mother is here.” He steals Rhys’s plate. “Did you know?”

Rhys tamps down on the urge to slam his face into that food. “I would hope so, considering it was I who flew in with her.”

Cass hums. “We’ve been banished from the house for the time being.” He turns to Zakai. “Rhys will have to suck your dick elsewhere. May I suggest the pillory? He could even tie you up. Would be very kinky—”

“Banished?” Rhys quickly interrupts with a frown. “Why? Is my mother alright?”

“Roza’s fine. It’s Y/N. They’re having a serious talk.”

“About what?”

“Serious stuff, I guess.”

Cassian can be really, really frustrating sometimes.

Rhys shoots him a look that communicates precisely that. “What serious stuff? What did they say?”

“Roza called it girl talk.” Cass takes another huge bite, chews — and pauses in thought, “Do you think Y/N has been acting a little strange recently? Not her usual self.”

In all honesty, Rhys regrets not being around more, with all Y/N has had to contend with as of late. But even with him flitting between Windhaven and Velaris, he’s noticed a change.

A change amongst everyone, really. Something is…off.

“She has a lot going on. It’s hardly surprising.” He says, studying Cassian — the male is still in deep thought. “But I think there’s more than she’s letting on. I thought you would know more than I do, considering you’re around her more.”

Cassian says nothing. He chews and chews like he can no longer taste the food in his mouth, and he’s just giving it absolutely anything to do other than speak. Even Zakai shoots Rhys a look that says he’s not buying it.

“Shall I give you two some space to talk?” Rhys’s lover suggests.

Rhys dips his chin in gratitude. Makes sure that a little bit of heat still swims in his eyes — a suggestion of what’s to come, when he’s finished here. “I’ll come find you.” He promises.

Zakai winks. “I’ll be waiting by the pillory.” And with a shared laugh, he’s standing and strolling away.

Rhys turns back to Cass. He’s at least swallowed the mouthful of food, but there’s still a faraway look in his eyes. “What is it you’re thinking so hard about?”

Cassian just chews his bottom lip.

“Cass.” He gives a little kick to his leg. “If there’s something you know about Y/N—”

“I think I may have fucked up. Badly.” Finally, his friend turns to him. The severity on his face is…rare. Worrying. “Maybe I should have told you this before now, I don’t know. But…you see…Y/N and I…we—”

There’s no chance for him to complete the sentence.

Not as the mead hall’s huge wooden doors burst open, loudly and abruptly enough that conversation just ceases. Everyone turns. Azriel looms in the doorway.

He only becomes more of an intimidating figure as he gets older — anyone would be an idiot not to recognise that. But there’s something about him right now, like this, that has even the most steeled Illyrian warriors eyeing him cautiously.

Though his hair is wet-through from the snow, he’s not at all dressed for the cold weather. The casual, tight-fitting shirt and breeches will do very little to protect him from the brutal temperatures, and his tan skin is already pinkened where the icy air has bitten it.

But his eyes — his eyes are a blazing, churning inferno.

He looks huge in the doorway. Bigger than he ever has. His chest falls and rises heavily, and his fists clench at his sides. The firm set of his jaw is a warning. He hasn’t come here to play.

His boots thud harshly against the wooden floor as he storms in, and everyone watches, waits to see who the shadowsinger has a problem with, and what he’s going to do about it. He appears to have no weapons on him — a rare sight that only adds to the rugged, impulsive nature of how he looks right now. Like he forgot all else in his pursuit to come here.

What nobody is expecting is the way his dark, golden gaze zeroes in on Cassian. And the love that usually sits on Azriel’s face when looking at his brother has been replaced with something infinitely colder. Harsher. Angrier.

Dangerous.

Rhysand glances between them, recognising very quickly that something has occurred in his absence. He slowly rises from his seat.

“Az?” He says calmly. “You alright?”

No.

No, Azriel is not alright.

Everyone knows it. Cassian especially.

He’s staring back at his friend, and a thousand realisations pelt him that he genuinely did not consider before now. He’s got a terrible habit of acting first and thinking later. Of not looking at the bigger picture and considering every single person that might get hurt as a result of his actions. He doesn’t mean to be so thoughtless or impulsive. He’s gradually learning.

But as he drinks in the sight of Azriel, he somehow knows the source of his rage without it needing to be said. It never occurred to him before, but it does now.

Both he and Rhys have secretly speculated, over the years, whether something more might grow from the loving friendship between Azriel and Y/N. But time passed, and nothing came of it, and—and—

And with Kaeda on the scene, Cassian had assumed that no romance would be blossoming after all.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t still feelings there. Complicated feelings.

And in that moment, as Azriel stops at the table, the true weight of Cassian’s actions strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

He clears his throat, taking in the sight of him. Even his shadows are staying out of this. “Az—”

“Get up.” Azriel demands fiercely.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told—”

“I will not tell you twice, Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s eyes darken. “Get. The fuck. Up.”

Every single person is watching — waiting. Cassian doesn’t move.

And then he says quietly, “No.”

It’s not that he has any problem getting in a punch up with either of his brothers — Cauldron knows, it’s happened more times than any of them care to remember, where they’ve roughed each other up and resolved things quickly after. It’s just a method of Illyrian affection.

But this isn’t like that. This is hugely, frighteningly different.

This is serious.

Cassian is realising very quickly that he fucked up — not necessarily in the act, itself, of having sex with Y/N. They are both free, consenting adults, after all.

But if he’s guilty of anything, it’s of not thinking about who he might hurt with his decisions. And if he’d bothered to stop and think that night in the kitchen, he’d have known damn well that him having such relations with Y/N would be upsetting for Azriel. At the very least, Cass should have spoken to him first.

And that’s what he wants to do, now. Not fight. Not draw blood and leave bruises. Just…talk. Explain himself. Make it clear that he would never, ever intentionally hurt Az.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says, far quieter than his usual Cassian volume. “We should talk—”

Azriel’s lunging across the table and nipping that suggestion right in the bud. His fist goes flying so hard into Cassian’s jaw that his head snaps back. He barely has a chance to right himself before Az is throwing himself at him fully and knocking him to the floor.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rhys snaps, but neither of them seems to hear, and then the noise is picking up in the room and people are rising from their seats to get a closer look at the fight. Encouraging them with rowdy shouts.

This is no competitive brawl between friends. Through the gathering people, fists are swinging and blood is flying all over the place. Azriel is pummelling Cassian’s face over and over, and choked, angry words are leaving him as he does.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?!” The shadowsinger seethes, throwing another punch. “You know—” Punch. “Know how I feel—” Punch. “And you still had to go and do it.”

Too much is happening at once for Rhys to put the pieces together. All he knows is that this is bad. All he can do is watch.

And Cassian is barely fighting back. He’s not interested in returning the punches. He just wants to put a stop to this.

“You knew. I know you knew.” Az then grabs him by the collar of his tunic, and he’s lifting him and slamming him back down against the floor, so hard that the whoosh of air that leaves Cassian can be heard across the hall. “Fuck. You. Cassian. Fuck you—”

“You—” Cass coughs blood at him. “You had Kaeda—”

“Piece of shit��”

“Perhaps…if you hadn’t been…so blinded by your fucking lust…forgot all about Y/N—”

Oh, that’s entirely the wrong thing to say.

A snarl is leaving Az, or maybe Cass, or perhaps both of them at the same time.

What happened leading up to this point was mere child’s play.

The two of them utterly lose it, and Cassian forgets all about talking and allows his temper to take over, and the real fight begins. Rhys is shoved back, stunned, as people try to push closer. All he can hear is the sound of his friends’ punches landing on each other. With more blood drawn, the noise becomes a sickly, wet one that tells him this is getting out of hand.

He barges his way through people, trying to get to the centre of the fray, but a noise is stopping him in his tracks.

“HEY!”

Somehow, his mother’s voice is loud enough, commanding enough, to reach every corner of the mead hall and wash over each and every occupant. Something about the raw order in her voice has everyone stopping. Quietening.

Even Cassian and Azriel cease their fighting. But they’re still exchanging harsh words that are compromised through split lips and mouthfuls of blood.

“Fucking vile—”

“I’m—sorry—Az—sorry—”

“That is enough.” Roza storms into the hall, a hand resting on her belly. She’s well and truly displaying the façade of the High Lord’s mate; someone not to be argued with. “Stand aside at once.”

If it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation, there might be something amusing about seeing honed Illyrian males slink back like threatened animals. But Rhys can only watch as they back away from Roza and lope back to their seats.

“Mother.” He turns to her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have no idea what’s going on—”

Roza holds a hand up, cutting him off. She turns to Azriel and Cassian, who are now just staring at each other like sworn enemies.

“Off the fucking ground now.” She snaps.

Azriel’s eyes shutter. He’s breathing heavily. He hesitates, wants to go against the order.

But even through the red mist of anger, he respects Roza too much to do that.

Heaving a deep breath, he pushes off Cassian. Rises to his feet.

Roza jerks her chin at Cass. “Help him up.”

Azriel makes an incredulous sound. “He can get up himself—”

“Help him the fuck up, Azriel, before I bash your damn heads together.”

Az clenches his jaw. It might be childish that he refuses to look at Cassian as he juts a hand out, but he doesn’t fucking care. Nor does he care that he puts the bare minimum of strength into hauling him up off the floor.

As soon as Cass is on his feet, he’s shoving Azriel away from him.

“There are so many things I could say to you idiots right now.” Roza snaps. “But I’m way too pregnant for this shit, and I want to sit down.” She angles herself to Azriel. “You — go spend the night at the dormitories. Clean yourself up and calm down.” She turns back to Cassian, to Rhys. “The two of you are coming back to the cottage with me. I don’t give a shit about who said or did what. Don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. Do I make myself clear?”

This is just a teensy bit humiliating — the three of them bowing their heads while they receive a scolding in front of their fellow Illyrians. But they’re not stupid enough to argue it.

They are stupid enough not to respond, though, and that only pisses Roza off more.

“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” She thunders.

“Yes.” All three males intone.

“Good.” She steps back, nods at Azriel. “You first. Go. Dormitories. Now.”

Azriel sends one last, scathing glance at Cassian before stalking off. He limps out of the doors and into the snow — a fact that leaves Cassian feeling just a little smug.

“Get that damn look off your face, Cassian.” Roza narrows her eyes at him, and he quickly corrects himself. “And get moving. If you don’t get your asses back to the cottage this instant, I’m locking you out. Understood?”

Cassian says, “Yes, Roza.”

Rhys mumbles, “Didn’t even do anything.”

Roza looks at him like she wants to throttle him. And that’s enough for him to straighten himself out and offer his pregnant mother his arm. She takes it silently. Cassian moves to her other side.

“When we get back,” she says quietly, “the two of you better start explaining what the fuck has been going on in my absence.”

Neither males are exactly sure.

But they’re both wise enough not to say that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The steaming bath is supposed to soothe you, but it does not. Nothing can. Not even Rhys’s sweater that’s currently swallowing you up and encasing you in his scent.

And when you traipse down the worn wooden staircase at the first sound of voices, you feel like crying all over again. You hope for Azriel — hope he’s come back, willing to hear you out. But stepping into the living area, that tiny shred of hope evaporates.

Conversation ceases, and Rhys and Cassian are looking up at you from their respective spots on the couch. Roza is pottering around the kitchen.

At the first glimpse of Cass, your heart drops.

It’s not that you’re unused to seeing him roughed up, but this is…this is different. He’s clearly not riding on the wave of his normal post-brawl adrenaline. He looks downtrodden, hurt — both physically and emotionally.

Blood streaks from his face. He’s cut and bruised in numerous places. A gnarly black eye is beginning to show itself.

He finds interest in his hands. Can’t seem to bear looking at you.

“What—” Is all you’re able to gasp out, before you’re hurrying over, perching yourself on the coffee table before your two friends. You reach out. “Cass…what—”

“Take a wild guess.” He mutters, still not looking at you.

You angle yourself towards Rhys, looking for an answer. And the fact that you can’t read his expression…it threatens to cut you open.

“I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” He says with a shrug. “Clearly, nobody tells me anything.”

“Azriel did this.” You say quietly. It’s not a question.

“Yes. He did. Turned up at the mead hall and absolutely lost it.” Rhysand’s violet eyes flick between you and Cass. “And I’m guessing it has something to do with the two of you. Care to share?”

Your eyes shutter, because having to speak it aloud again might finish you off. But you suppose the worst has already happened. Azriel knows. You might as well share the truth with Rhys, also, and show him what a wretch you are.

You open your mouth, and unplanned words leave you in a rasp, “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Rhys studies you. “Done what?”

“We slept together.” Cassian finally speaks, wiping a strip of blood from his chin. “Y/N and I.”

You can’t stop your eyes roving over to Roza in the kitchen. Even though she already knows, a bolt of shame hits you all over again that she has to be present for this. Not only does she have far more pressing matters to worry about, but you simply cannot bear it — of all people you’d hate to let down, it’s her.

And she may have her back to you as she busies herself in the kitchen, but you know damn well she’s listening to every word.

Rhysand purses his lips, and he sits back, folding his arms. “Why?

“It just happened.” Cass shrugs. “Night we went to Fenlaros. Y/N was upset after the fight broke out, and I was helping her, and it just…happened. I didn’t think there would be a problem, given that neither of us are tied to anyone, but apparently it is a problem. Honestly, Azriel has no damn right. He’s been busy with Kaeda for months—”

“Yeah, Cass, but we also know it’s not a straightforward situation.” Violet eyes dance over to you. Back to Cassian. “Surely you must have known that he—”

“No, I didn’t, because like I said,” Cassian snaps, “he has no fucking right. What reason does he have to be angry with either of us? We don’t owe him shit. Y/N is a grown female. If she wants to fuck any one of us, that’s entirely her choice. It isn’t for him to dictate—”

“I don’t disagree, but—”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s passing these judgements from his cushy little high horse that he’s been fucking Kaeda atop of. I should have fucking given him hell back there, but I didn’t—”

“There’s more to it than that.” You cut in, every word slicing at you. You lower your gaze as the two males turn to you. “There’s…there’s more to it than you realise.”

Cass eyes you. And usually, he would reassure you — tell you not to put the blame on yourself.

He doesn’t.

He knows, just from looking at you, that he can’t.

He grits out through his teeth, “What.”

“Az has a right to be angry.” Your hands shake as you drag them over your face. Your eyes are red raw and sore from all the crying you’ve already done. “Not at you, though, Cass. It’s me. I…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Stupid how?”

“Azriel and I were engaging in sexual stuff, too. Okay?” The admission comes barrelling out of you. “It wasn’t planned. He asked me for…for some help. With his confidence. One thing led to another, and he and I were doing certain things. We didn’t sleep together, but we did other stuff. And it was all intended to help him approach such things with more confidence, but then I realised I wanted more, but he was interested in Kaeda, and I was upset and jealous and I just…I’m sorry. To both of you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Utter silence.

Your friends stare at you. Even Roza turns around.

You think you’d prefer to be shouted at rather than this. They’re looking at you like…like they don’t know what to do with you, say to you, anymore.

And then Cassian laughs. Not humorously, but a bitter, soured laugh. He shakes his head. “So, what you’re saying was that you used me to forget about your feelings for Az?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I…it wasn’t like that. Not intentionally. You and I both know that what happened between us was impulsive…and unplanned…and it didn’t mean anything. It just happened—”

“Because you were upset about what happened in Fenlaros! You instigated the kiss! Am I to believe it was a coincidence that you did so after Azriel had just put on some valiant display of starting a fight over Kaeda?”

“Cassian.” Rhys warns quietly. “Don’t shout at her.”

“I told you,” Your voice is beginning to break, tears heating your eyes again, “that I was feeling shit about myself—”

Another brusque laugh, void of humour, cuts you off. “And what of earlier tonight?” Cassian demands. “When Roza walked in on me kneeled between your damn thighs. What led to that?”

“That is enough.” Roza stalks over, folding her arms. “I’ve been staying out of this so you can have an adult conversation, but I will not tolerate that disrespect under my roof. I won’t have you talking to Y/N like that, Cassian. Or any female for that matter.”

Cassian slumps back slightly, muttering a half-hearted apology. To Roza, not you.

But he has a point, doesn’t he? Having laid it all out to you like this.

You slept together because you were hurting and wanting to chase away your feelings. And he may have instigated what happened earlier tonight, but you reciprocated — because you wanted to chase away your feelings.

You used him. And the second you truly realise that fact, you feel sick to your stomach.

Tears drop into your lap as your eyes shutter. Shame is ravaging your body like a sickness. You wish you were somewhere, anywhere, else.

Wish you were someone, anyone, else.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and the words alone choke you up even more. “I am so sorry, Cass. I don’t—I shouldn’t have—”

You can’t get out whatever it is you want to say. The emotion is simply too much. A pain that is both mental and physical. It’ll eat away at you until you’re skin and bones. A husk of yourself.

There’s movement, and then someone is perching beside you. Wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into their side.

“Y/N…” Rhysand murmurs, resting his chin on your head. “Azriel should never have come to you for practice to use on another female. Why would you agree to that?”

You know precisely why. But you will not say it aloud again. Choking out those words to Roza was enough. They’ll only hurt even more.

You just cling to Rhys, and you cry harder.

And after a moment, it’s Cassian who’s sitting forward and answering Rhys’s question for you.

“Because you love him. Don’t you?” He’s so quiet. Painfully quiet. “You love Azriel.”

Yes, you want to scream at him, I love Azriel, and I wish I didn’t, because even if Kaeda didn’t exist, I would be the last person in the entirety of Prythian that he’d ever look at. Me with my ruined wings and broken soul. What do I have to offer? What could I ever give him that would be worth sticking around for?

But all you can manage is a soft cry. Rhys holds you tighter as your shoulders shake.

Roza takes the seat that he vacated, next to Cass. Her hand strokes over her belly. “Mistakes have clearly been made.” She speaks. “But believe me when I say that these things are not worth ruining such good friendships over. Ever. The bond that the four of you have is so, so special. Your love and support for each other is beautiful. And so, you may be angry at each other for a while, yes — but it’ll be okay. What you have is far bigger than anger. It’s love.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” You whisper. “I would never.”

A deep sigh leaves Cassian, and he’s leaning forward. “I know that. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

He shouldn’t be. You deserve it. Deserve worse.

“I still don’t think Azriel was justified.” He then says. “He’s being fucking irrational—”

“Yeah, well, he just needs to calm down.” Roza cuts him off. “You all do.”

“And stop sleeping with each other.” Rhys adds. “Definitely don’t do that again.”

Cassian’s response is a mumble, “No danger of that.”

You can only manage to shake your head in response. You’re so very, very tired.

Roza seems to read that on your face. “I think we should all head to bed. Y/N, Rhys, you both go on up while I see to Cassian’s injuries.”

You don’t need telling twice. As Rhysand pulls you up, he damn near supports your whole body weight. It’s like you’re boneless, slumping against him. Exhaustion suddenly smothers you and threatens to drag you down to the floor.

But as Rhys drags you past the couch, a hand catches yours. Encloses around it.

Cassian stares up at you. Looks beaten down and tired and hurt. But he squeezes your hand and says softly, “Love you, sweetpea.”

You run the risk of breaking all over again just by opening your mouth, but you have to get the words out. You swallow down a lump and tamp down on a sob, and you just about manage to return, “Love you too, Cass.”

His answering smile is weak, but he kisses your hand and let’s go. And then Rhys is pulling you towards the stairs.

You don’t deserve a friend like Cassian — someone who can be utterly furious with you but will still break through that anger to tell you he loves you, because you need to hear it. He’s so golden. More valued than he will ever realise.

And Rhysand is, too, as he supports you on every step of the staircase. His arms are firm around you, strong. He’s not letting you fall, even as he stops outside of the bedroom that you always share with Az.

“Will you stay with me, Rhys?” You find your hands bunching the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him with shameful desperation. “Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

He studies you, and then he’s nodding resolutely. “Of course, I will.”

The smile you manage to give him is watery and unconvincing, but you force it, anyway. You turn, opening the door — until Rhys stops you. Your tired eyes glance over your shoulder in question.

And the mischief that’s on his face is so normal, so Rhys, that it actually makes you feel better. That look he gets when he’s about to say or do something that’ll earn him a slap up the side of his head. One half of his mouth tilts up, and his eyes are glimmering.

“Out with it.” You say blandly.

“Just don’t make a move on me, okay?” He grins. “Let’s not go for three out of three.”

You scowl, stalk into the bedroom, but in all honesty, you appreciate the humour. It’s far better than the hurt.

And Rhys knows that — which is precisely why he made the effort to crack a joke at all.

When you’re tucked up in bed beside him, his scent and body heat lulling you to sleep, you find his hand beneath the covers and give it a gentle squeeze.

And like always, he squeezes back.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There’s a new crack in the ceiling.

There were six the last time Azriel counted. A seventh one now cuts a jagged line that zigzags directly over his bed.

This bed, in this room, in these dormitories.

This bed, that Y/N sucked his cock in. That he kissed Kaeda on. With the lumpy mattress and scratchy blankets.

Azriel fucking hates this bed.

He hasn’t slept a wink all night.

He knows that morning must have arrived, because people are walking the halls and readying themselves for training and talking too loudly. Az would usually have been up before all of them, already out there training in the harsh cold. But this morning, he doesn’t move an inch. It has nothing to do with the good few punches that Cassian managed to get in during their fight. If anything, Az relishes the discomfort.

Y/N and Cassian fucked. It’s all he can think about. Plays on a constant loop in his head. The truth is an oily one.

And with that truth comes further truths. Realisations.

The first — that after a night of lying awake and turning it over in his mind, he’s not sure he even has a right to be mad.

Y/N owes him nothing. Cassian owes him nothing. Their choice to lose themselves in each other’s bodies should make no difference to Azriel whatsoever. No promises have been made — aside of Y/N’s agreement to help him build his confidence. And that was a favour. Nothing more.

But those two words — nothing more — keep bringing Azriel to his second realisation. One he’s so fucking stupid for not realising until now, when it’s too late.

It was more — to him. Right from that very first kiss in the mead hall, when heat had surged his veins and he’d been left wanting more, more, more. It was that want, that carnal desire, that had had him coming straight back for further experiences with her. It was easy to say it was all about practice. Easy to pretend it wasn’t the terrifying thing it was. Easy to deny the truth.

Right from that very first kiss, he wanted Y/N.

Wanted to keep kissing her. To touch her. To have her touch him. He didn’t want to experience those things with anybody else, and he didn’t want her to want anybody else, selfish as that may be. That need had overtaken him after one fucking kiss, and he should have realised it there and then.

It was why he’d reacted to Jonan’s flirting the way he had. Why he’d lost his shit in Fenlaros, when Thedis had been ready to drag Y/N off to a shaded alcove and fuck her senseless.

It was why, no matter how damn hard he tried, he couldn’t generate that same desire with Kaeda. Kaeda was not Y/N.

And Y/N was everywhere he looked. In everything he felt. Her heart and her beauty and her laughter and her damn good soul. Her strength. Gods, that unwavering strength.

And that was why he’d reacted so damn irrationally — because he wanted Y/N, and it was his own fucking fault that she’d fallen into the arms of someone else.

He sits up in bed, dragging a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to go to training today, doesn’t want to face anyone—

But a knock lands on the door, and he tamps down on the urge to tell whoever it is to fuck right off.

“Azriel?” Kaeda’s voice comes from the other side. “I know you’re in there.”

He heaves a deep, long sigh.

He really, really does not want to face Kaeda right now, of all people.

But she knocks again, and he finds himself kicking his sheets away in pure frustration and stalking towards the door. He almost yanks it off the hinges.

Kaeda takes in the sight of him, a pinched expression on her face. “You look like shit.”

Azriel really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. His voice is cold, flat, as he bites out, “Why are you in Windhaven.”

“I came looking for you to see if you’d given any thought to my offer, and I found out you’ve been brawling with Cassian.” She reaches out, brushing her fingers over his bruised cheek. “What happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Clearly.” Sarcasm laces her tone. She rubs her arms. “Can I come in? It’s cold.”

The last thing he wants is anyone in his space. And he should stand his ground, tell her that. But he silently steps aside.

Kaeda breezes in, tucking her wings in tight. She turns to face Az and folds her arms over her chest. “Well?”

Azriel kicks the door shut. “Well, what?”

“What of my offer?”

Her offer is the furthest thing from his thoughts. How can he think about a life in Fenlaros when his life in Windhaven is such a colossal fuck up? Not to mention he would never make such decisions without consulting his friends — his family — first—

But things with his friends aren’t in such a good place right now.

“You dumped all of that on me not even twenty-four hours ago.” He points out. “I can’t just come up with an answer for you.”

“What we’re trying to do is important, Azriel—”

“I have other things going on right now. Alright?” He snaps. “Your father’s vision is not my priority.”

Kaeda stills, balling her fists. “What things? Something to do with why you were fighting with Cassian, I presume.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Kaeda.” He pivots, turns his back to her. “I just…need some space.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Az thinks that perhaps she’ll actually listen and leave.

But then he feels movement behind him, and Kaeda’s front is pressing to his back. Her arms wrap around him. He tenses.

“I’m sorry for pushing you.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Az’s eyes shutter. Her touch feels wrong. All wrong.”

“Azriel.” She whispers, and those hands travel lower, towards the waistband of the low-slung cotton trousers that hang from his hips. “I can make you feel better.”

The second those fingers begin to slide beneath the waistband, he’s launching himself out of her arms. Stumbling back against the wall.

“No.” He breathes. “I—can’t.”

Kaeda stares at him. Purses her lips. “Why?”

Because you are not Y/N. You’re not her. You’re not, and never have been, who I want.

“I just…need to be alone.” Is all he manages to get out. “You…you need to go.”

The expression on Kaeda’s face tells him just how rarely anyone asks her to leave. He feels rude, and brusque, and unkind.

He can’t bring himself to care.

“…Fine.” The tone of her voice suggests that it absolutely isn’t fine. She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “I’ll go.”

Az inclines his head. “Thank you.”

She strides towards the door, coldness rippling off her. And when she wraps her hand around the doorknob, she turns.

“When you’re ready to stop being such a fucking coward,” she levels him a look, “you know where you can find me.”

Azriel doesn’t bother replying.

He climbs back into bed. And he relishes in the sound of the door clicking shut.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“You’re sure you want to do this today?”

Outside the chipped wooden door of your father’s house a day later, you’re frozen on the spot. Your breath clouds in front of your face, and you wish you’d accepted the coat that Rhys had offered you before leaving.

It’s tempting to turn around and go back to the cottage. Warm yourself by the fire. Hopefully fall asleep and avoid the pain in your heart, at least for a little while.

But you know that now is the right time to do this. Your father will be hard at work in his forge, and you’re free to gather your belongings and turn your back on that hollow home for good. At least it’ll keep you occupied for a while.

So you turn to Roza, and you nod. “I’m sure.”

“I still don’t think you should be doing this alone.” She eyes you cautiously. “Why don’t I send Rhys to help?”

“I’m fine, Roz, honestly. I think…I think I’ll appreciate the space.”

The space to cry and cry without anyone smothering you. You appreciate the love and support over the last twenty-four hours, you do — but being under the same roof as Cass…not knowing what Azriel might be doing, thinking, feeling…it’s all a bit too much.

So, yes, you’ll appreciate the breathing space.

Roza seems to finally recognise that. She nods. “Alright. I’ll come back for you in an hour.”

You lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, and then you’re turning and ripping the bandaid off before you can talk yourself out of it.

The house is as dark and dingy as it always has been. It smells musty. It feels soulless.

You step in and shut the door behind you, and you’re suddenly faced with every bad memory that has ever played out there. The shadow of your child self skitters around on bare, dirty feet, scrambling to get the fire lit, the dinner cooked.

The walls are painted with the hateful, malicious words that your father has spat over the years. Some of them have been punched in his many fits of anger.

This place will always be suffocating and evil. It will always shrink you back down to that tiny, terrified child who just wanted love.

You wrap your arms around yourself and drag your feet through to your bedroom. It’s just as it was before you left. Never feeling personal nor lived in. Certainly never feeling safe.

But you try to block all of that out and focus on what you came here for. The silence is welcomed, despite every little creak and bang putting you on edge, filling you with dread that your father might have returned home early. If you had to face a confrontation with him right now, you wouldn’t have the strength to defend yourself. You’d roll over at the first blow of vitriol.

And so, when you hear the sure sound of the door rattling open, your heart plummets. You freeze, hands bunching the tunic you were folding. Clear, confident footsteps approach.

Azriel appears in the doorway, and you don’t know what to do.

Perhaps facing your father would be easier right now.

He stares at you, his expression guarded. Where he would usually allow you to read his emotions, he wears a cool, flat exterior that even your keen awareness of him cannot get past. It’s deliberate — an act of self-preservation.

It makes you want to cry, just realising that he feels the need to do that around you. He never has before.

“What are you doing here?” You rasp, clearing a lump from your throat. “I thought…I mean…I would have come to find you, but I thought you needed space.”

Az nods. “I do.” He says. “I’m not…not ready to talk about anything yet.”

“Then why—”

“I made you a promise a long time ago.” He steps closer, stares at you in a way that is…quiet. You notice the dark smudges that sit beneath his eyes as he continues, “I made you a promise that I would be there for you, no matter what. And I didn’t keep that promise on Solstice, but I’m keeping it now. Even if I’m not ready to confront things yet…I won’t let you face this alone.”

After twenty-four hours of tears, you were certain you’re all cried out.

But tears fill your eyes again, and you feel like the broken pieces of your heart are breaking even more.

Azriel knows, better than anybody, how difficult it is for you to come back to this house. To face so many of the demons that you fought against with him by your side. He knows that you may have told Roza that you were fine, that you could do it alone, but you’re not, and you can’t.

You never wanted to do this alone. You just didn’t want to do it with anyone but Azriel.

And despite being hurt, and angry, and confused…he’s here.

“How did you…” You clear your throat again. “How did you know?”

“Was flying above. Saw you with Roza.” He strides further into the room and goes straight to one of the drawers in your dresser. “Are you taking everything?”

You’re still a little stunned, but you manage a nod. Your everything is, in fact, not much at all.

Az begins to fold your clothes and sort them into piles. He’s completely silent. Doesn’t even look at you. But a shadow reaches out and tickles your arm.

There’s so much you want to say to him. You also just want to throw your arms around him. Apologise, and apologise, and apologise.

But you’ll always respect his boundaries. He isn’t ready. So you return to the task and work just as silently as he is.

It’s a little while later, when he’s moved on to your small gathering of keepsakes, that he speaks again.

“Do you want to take this?” He turns to you.

In his hand is the little wooden owl carving he made for your thirteenth birthday. The damned thing has seen you shed so many tears, stayed clutched in your palm through so many nightmares. Never will you ever part with it.

“Always.” You answer quietly. “I’ll always take it wherever I go.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and then he nods. Tucks the trinket into the pocket of your satchel. You watch the entire thing with a gaping wound in your heart.

“Az?” You murmur, and he glances at you over your shoulder. “…Thank you…”

His eyes catch yours again, and then he’s dipping his chin. “I made you a promise.” He says again.

You don’t speak another word to each other after that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

As soon as you’re finished, Azriel is taking to the skies once more. He doesn’t bid you goodbye.

Roza appears almost immediately, and she takes in your scant belongings with a pitying look.

“Come, little dove.” She reaches for your bag. “Let’s get out of the cold.”

“Let me carry that, Roz.” You say. “You’re pregnant. And the cottage isn’t far—”

But your words cut off when, with a wave of her hand, she’s spiriting all of your belongings away, into thin air. You cock an eyebrow.

“We’re not going back to the cottage.” She says. “I’m taking you to Velaris.”

az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes

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jjunieworld · 2 months

Text

more than this? ` ༘ ⋆𓂅

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: friends with benefits to lovers, smut, the slightest bit of angst, kinda mutual (unknown) pining??

synopsis: when beomgyu asked you to be fuck buddies, you thought it was risky considering your already growing feelings for him. but, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be close to him in any way that you could. now you’re wondering if the two of you will ever be anything more than this.

warnings: unprotected sex (no!!), dom!beomgyu, sub!reader, fingering, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight praise, petnames (baby), some aftercare

word count: 3.1k┊masterlist

author's note: when i tell you i was literally working against the clock for this one to post it on time for beomgyu’s birthday… happy birthday beomgyu!! :)) this was kinda inspired by the song k. by cigarettes after sex! hopefully i can get past this writer’s block so i can start posting regularly again :( i hope you enjoy!! ♡

the mixture of you and beomgyu’s pants filled your bedroom. the two of you had been going at it in different positions for hours and the sun had just started to come up. your body was essentially jello by now but the feeling of beomgyu inside you felt too good to stop. besides, you knew this was the only time you could ever be intimate with him.

when the idea of you and beomgyu being friends with benefits first arose, you were hesitant to accept his offer. the two of you were close, but not exactly bestfriends. you refused to let yourself get that close to him knowing you had feelings for your longtime friend. it was also difficult knowing that he mainly just wanted a quick fuck whenever you were down for it.

but, you couldn’t refuse. you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have your body pressed against his, your breaths mixing as he pounded deep inside you.

again, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as the pleasure got too much for you. “beomgyu, i’m gonna c-cum again,” you spoke shakily, pushing at his shoulders. everytime the two of you were together he insisted that the main position you fucked in was missionary. “you’re face is way too pretty to just be pushed down into the sheets,” beomgyu had said.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours, half kissing you and half moaning, “cum for me, baby. one last time.” your nails dug into his shoulders and you leaned your head back towards the headboard as you came undone. still, beomgyu slid in and out of you, helping you chase your high. his lips were on your jaw and slight whimpers were coming out of his mouth as he came right after you.

you looked at beomgyu through hooded lids and furrowed brows as you felt him release inside you once again. whining a little, you kissed him hard. after this, he would leave and you would be alone again. you didn’t want the time the two of you were spending together to end, even if the ever growing stickiness between your thighs was starting to get a little uncomfortable. you were definitely going to have to wash your sheets and comforter a couple times after this, the mix of both of your cum was all over it.

beomgyu slid out of you and fell onto the bed next to you, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked over to you. he tapped a finger to your lips, his body catching the light from the thin sheen of sweat all over him. “good?” beomgyu asked you. you giggled and nodded, “very good.” beomgyu smiled at you and got up from the bed, the sunlight coming through from the blinds lighting up with slightly dark room.

“shower with me,” beomgyu said as he walked around to your side of the bed. he held out his hand to you and you had to resist the urge to take in his naked body in front of you. you’ve seen him naked more times that you could count now, but it always shocked you to see how delicious he looked. you stood up slowly, wincing slightly from the pain in your legs, and took his hand.

you had some of beomgyu’s clothes, either from him keeping some at your apartment for future hookups or him accidentally leaving some at your place after rushing out. you didn’t mind really, it was more convenient and you liked wearing his shirts to bed after he left.

“if i can get up…” you trailed as you moved to him. “i wasn’t expecting to go for that long today,” you added as you wobbled slightly. beomgyu smirked down at you as he held you steady. “i didn’t hear you complaining,” he replied as you both made your way to your bathroom.

rolling your eyes at him playfully as you leaned against the sink, you murmured under your breath, “and you never will.” thankfully, him turning the water on covered your words. becoming fuck buddies was risky enough to the strange friendship you and beomgyu had, but adding your feelings into the mix would be catastrophic. sometimes you felt like your friendship was hanging off the ledge and one wrong move would completely destroy it and you would lose beomgyu forever.

the sound of the shower curtains drawing pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over to beomgyu. “come on,” he said and stepped into the shower and behind the curtains. you walked over and pulled the curtains back slightly to peer in at him. beomgyu’s back was to you and he was under the running water as you stepped into the shower. he turned to you with a small smile and moved you towards the water.

the two of you worked in silence as you washed your bodies, occasionally helping each other, until you were clean. you were both now sitting on your bed watching the sunrise through the window that you opened to let in the fresh air. “let me take you out to dinner,” beomgyu suddenly said, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “i feel like an asshole after we have sex. i don’t want you to feel like i’m just using you,” he then added.

isn’t that what this is though? maybe not him explicitly using you per se, but him just being here for the sex? you knitted your brows together as you thought over his proposal. you tried not to let yourself fall into the thought that beomgyu might want something more than this. you didn’t want to go through the heartbreak if you turned out to be wrong.

what damage could you going out to dinner with him do? “okay,” you nodded, speaking softly. beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile and he brought his lips to yours, causing your heart to race and your face to heat up significantly. the two of you did all the intimate things couples do, except you weren’t one. it made your head spin.

“later on today!” beomgyu exclaimed as he got up from the bed. he started to collect his things from around your bedroom. your heart sank as you realized he was about to leave. “around noon. i’ll pick you up!” he added. you put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you nodded again. “i’ll see you then!” you laughed breezily, hoping to come off as carefree as you got up and followed him to the door.

beomgyu pressed another kiss to your mouth before turned to leave. you waved goodbye to him as he jogged to his car before shutting your door. pressing your head to the coldness of the door, you breathed in deeply. you desperately needed to sort out your feelings before this all became a mess.

you smoothed out your dress again as you stood in front of the mirror by your door. taking a deep breath, you checked the time on your phone again. beomgyu would be arriving any minute, which was confirmed from the incoming text of him saying he was around the corner. you still weren’t sure if this classified as a date or not and you tried—and failed miserably—to steel your nerves.

there was a knock at your door, causing you to jump. you took one last deep breath before opening it to beomgyu on the other side. a small smile grew on his face. “hi,” beomgyu said, taking in your appearance. “you look pretty!” you couldn’t help but smile back at him, especially after he called you pretty. everytime you looked at him your heart fluttered and leaped around in your chest, begging to be let free. “hi,” you replied softly, your smile growing. “thank you, you look pretty too!”

“are you ready?” beomgyu asked with a slight laugh and you nodded. he led you to his car and the two of you began the drive to whatever restaurant beomgyu had picked out.

at the restaurant, which was quite fancy from the looks of it, you got a table towards the back where it wasn’t as crowded. now you sat across from beomgyu, menu in hand, as your face heated from the sheer thought of the situation you were in. the waiter had come and taken your orders so now it was just a waiting game. you and beomgyu had been making small talk as you tried to ignore the slight grumbling of your stomach.

“i know you said you felt like an asshole, but you didn’t have to take me to dinner,” you said, letting a smile form on your face. you were trying to gauge his intentions to make your anxiety go down since pushing your feelings away clearly wasn’t working. “i do. and yeah, i did feel like an asshole, but that was mainly an excuse to ask you out to dinner with me,” beomgyu said.

you almost started to choke from an inhale gone wrong but manage to cover it up. you stared at beomgyu with wide eyes, “you wanted to take me out to dinner?” beomgyu laughed and leaned towards you slightly. “of course! who wouldn’t want to take you out to dinner?” the waiter came back with your food and you waited for them to leave before speaking.

“well you don’t really take someone you’re casually fucking out to dinner,” you blurted, stabbing your fork into the food you got. you froze as you realized what you just said. without missing a beat, beomgyu replied, “then let’s stop being casual.”

looking up at him, mouth agape, you struggled to form words. all you could manage was a choked, “what?” beomgyu shrugged and repeated his words, a smirk growing on his face. “we already do everything a couple does—kiss, fuck… and it’s not like i’m seeing anybody else—don’t even have the desire to. you’re the only one i want,” beomgyu shrugged again like he was simply saying the grass was green as he ate his food. he then looked up at you through his lashes, “unless you’re seeing someone?”

you forced your mouth to stop hanging wide open. “you want me?” you asked seriously, setting your fork onto your plate with a slight ‘clang!’ beomgyu stopped eating and looked at you, tilting his head to the side as he let out a small laugh. “y/n, are you serious?” he asked you as if you were joking around with him. when you were silent he sat his utensils down and stared at you for a couple seconds.

“i just spent hours having sex with you. you think i’d spend hours having sex with someone if i only wanted a quick fuck?” beomgyu then ask you seriously. you shrugged and looked down, pushing your food around on your plate. “being fuck buddies is different for everyone… how was i supposed to know you wanted me back?” you trailed. beomgyu gave you a bewildered look, mouth slightly ajar.

he then called over the waiter and asked for the bill and to-go boxes. you stared at him in confusion, “what are you doing?” beomgyu just shook his head at you, saying nothing. the waiter brought what he asked for and he handed you one of the to-go boxes as he paid. “beomgyu,” you spoke as he moved his food into the box. you were confused on what was happening as you mimicked his actions.

once the two of you were finished, beomgyu stood from his chair, to-go box in hand. “let’s go,” he said. you rose to your feet and grabbed your things with furrowed brows, “go where?” you desperately needed answers. “my place,” is all he said as he started towards the entrance of the restaurant.

the drive to beomgyu’s place was silent. he pushed open his front door and dragged you inside towards his bedroom, abandoning your food on the kitchen counter. you stood awkwardly in the middle of his room as you waited for some sort of explanation. “do i want you?” he murmured under his breath sarcastically like it was some joke. beomgyu turned to you suddenly, “are you seeing someone else?”

“of course not!” you exclaimed, brows knitting further together. “okay then,” beomgyu replied as he began stripping off his clothes. “what is going on?” you asked frustrated.

“i’m showing you i want you,” is all beomgyu simply said, now only in his boxers. he came up to you and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it completely off in one swift movement. you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, so now your breasts were on full display for him, nipples perking up from the sudden coldness. beomgyu’s lips were on yours in an instant as his hands slid up your waist.

you returned his kiss as you pressed your body to his for some type of warmth. “you could’ve waited until after we ate,” you murmured against beomgyu’s lips. you felt him smile and he guided you back to the bed. “lay down,” beomgyu said, breaking away from you. his finger hooked onto the hem of your underwear, “and take these off.”

your heart was racing as you slid your underwear down and climbed onto beomgyu’s bed. heat pulled at your core as you waited for him to make the next move. beomgyu smirked at you as he slowly pulled his boxers down against his hard bulge. his cock sprang out, causing your eyes to widen a little.

now that your mind was clear for once, you really took in just how big beomgyu’s cock was. pressing your thighs together and shifting on the bed, your face heated at the fact that it was about to be inside you. beomgyu stroked himself a couple times before stepping towards the bed. he climbed overtop of you, causing you to lay down onto your back.

the tip of his cock was rubbing against your clit and it sent shivers through your body. your pussy throbbed even more at the contact. “how could you be so clueless?” beomgyu asked you before his lips captured yours. his hand trailed down to your pussy and his thumb started to rub circles into your clit. you moaned into his mouth, hips rocking upwards, “you should’ve just told me.” your voice was starting to come up breathy as your hips grinded up towards his hand.

beomgyu slipped his fingers inside you, “why didn’t you tell me?” your brain fogged over, small moans escaping your lips as he pumped in and out of you. your wetness made it easy, and the slight squelching sounds set your body on fire. you kissed beomgyu to try and stifle your whimper. “gonna cum,” you breathed out, completely ignoring beomgyu’s question.

you threw your head back into the pillow and beomgyu trailed kisses along your neck as the knot in your stomach tightened. you wrapped your arms around beomgyu’s neck and brought his face to yours as your legs started to tremble, kissing him hard. your hips rolled up as you came around his fingers, breathing heavily as you put your forehead to beomgyu’s.

beomgyu kissed you sweetly for a moment before pulling away to hover over you. he lined his cock with your entrance and slowly slid inside you, brows furrowing. “fuck, baby,” he said as he bottomed out. beomgyu began sliding in and out of you at a decent rate, his head bowed as he watched your cum coat his cock, before picking up his pace.

you cried out as he pressed your thighs to your stomach, using the advantage to fuck into you deeper. “you can take it, baby. i know you can,” beomgyu said before giving you a chaste kiss, a whimper spilling out of his mouth after. he filled you up so much you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. you felt every inch of him, especially the tip of his cock hitting against your sweet spot. it made tears prick your eyes and your teeth to bite down hard on your bottom lip.

“you like that? you like when i fuck into you like that? when i make you feel good?” beomgyu breathed, staring down at your whimpering figure. you squirmed underneath him, eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, “mhm, p-please don’t stop!”

beomgyu sloppily kissed you, slight grunts vibrating against your mouth as he continued fucking you. “it feels so good,” you murmured, trying to grind up into him in any way that you could. beomgyu’s hands gripping your thighs and pinning you to the bed made it impossible. beomgyu moaned, head falling with tightly knitted brows and you felt him twitch inside you.

“mmm, baby you’re gonna make me cum with how fucking tight you are around me,” he said lowly. beomgyu’s voice was so attractive, especially when he lowered it. that it made the rope inside you snap and you came all over his cock, a whimpering mess beneath him. “that’s it, baby. fuck…” beomgyu trailed and his grip on your thighs tightened as he feverishly stroked in and out of your pussy faster.

your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out again, shallow moans pouring out of you as your back arched off the bed. “t-too much!” you whimpered.

“take it,” beomgyu demanded as he continued his pace. his head fell back and his mouth hung open as you watched his hips roll back and forth through watery eyes.

“shit…” beomgyu said, breathing hard as he came inside you, filling you up even more. his strokes faltered as he rode out his high and you whined loudly underneath him, squirming from your sensitive pussy. beomgyu leaned down and brought his lips to yours to slowly kiss you.

“my baby,” he said airily, pecking your lips before pulling away. you looked at him through hooded eyes and tear stained cheeks, not even registering his words. beomgyu chuckled at you before kissing your cheek and then your neck. “my baby, always so good. i could fuck you for days,” he said against your neck, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

beomgyu leaned back and slowly pulled out of you, a wince on his face. you felt empty without him inside you, without his big cock filling you up to the brim. you felt the cum drip out of you and whimpered slightly. beomgyu laid down onto the bed next to you and pulled you towards him. “my clueless, fucked out baby,” beomgyu laughed as you settled into him. you giggled and pushed at his chest a little, “shut up!” beomgyu pressed a kiss to your forehead as he laughed more.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

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asilentsongbird · 8 months

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For you, I think I would learn how to love

For my lovely anon who asked for husband Neuvillette, I bring you a whole fic. This man has me in a chokehold and I need everyone to know how much I love him.

Pairing: Neuvillette x fem! Reader Word Count: ~7k

Summary: Tired of waiting for you to find a husband, your parents find one for you. One who happens to be the Chief Justice of Fontaine. A new city, a new life, a new husband. So much new, and you could only hope, deep in your heart, that you would find happiness and love in Fontaine.

The first time you meet him, it's rather formal.

It's not as though you have much of an option. Though you certainly couldn't say you expected when you woke up to be told that your parents had found a husband for you, and that you'd be married in a week.

They had been pushing marriage lately, saying you were the right age, but the thought had been far from your mind. You thought you still had time, and the next thing you knew, you were being brought to Fontaine.

It's certainly different from Liyue. The hills and mountains are different from the Stone Forrest. The air feels different, there's water heavy in it.

You wait, in an ornate room that feels much too fancy. You've been left alone for a brief moment, the most your parents have allowed since you were told the news.

Part of you wonders if you could escape if you jumped out the window. A quick glance told you that it was much too high to entertain that idea. You'd end up breaking a leg before you got out of this marriage.

The door opens. A man appears, with long white hair with blue streaks in it. Simply from his appearance, you can tell that this is someone important. Your spine straightens as sharp eyes land on you, zeroing in on you.

You felt small, for a moment. As though he was judging you for simply existing in a space you'd rather not be in. Though your parents didn't care if you had plans or wished to find a husband on your own.

The man doesn't say anything. He closes the door behind him with a click, and makes his way over to you. Despite the desire to shrink back, you stand your ground, until he finally stands before you.

Up close you can see more details. He towers over you in height, but you suppose most people would feel short compared to him. His eyes capture your attention the most, the pupils such a strange shape, but gorgeous nevertheless.

"I apologize for leaving you waiting," he starts, almost looking as lost as you on how to start.

You wave your hands frantically in front of you. "It's fine! I didn't expect anyone to come in. I was told I would be meeting-"

Saying future husband felt much too strange. The man in front of you notices your pause, and arches a single silver brow. You frantically try to remember the name of the man who is meant to be your fiance.

"Ah, sorry, I was meant to meet a Mister Neuvillette?" your voice stumbles awkwardly over the new word, still struggling with the accent.

On the trip to Fontaine, your parents had tried to give you lessons on the language, as though you would become fluent in the few hours it took to travel.

The man blinks. And then he blinks again, as though he's trying to figure out what you just said.

Apparently the lessons hadn't worked.

"Sorry, my accent needs work," you apologize. "I hear he's the Chief Justice?"

The man nods, slowly. "That is correct."

You hum, non-committal, waiting to see if your company decides to keep the conversation going. When he doesn't, you find yourself unable to think of words.

Well, this felt awkward. And from the way the man still seemed at a loss for words, he also felt the same.

The tension could almost cut a knife.

He clears his throat after a moment, the sound almost makes you jump.

"Yes, well..." he pauses, gesturing towards the couch. "I am sure monsieur Neuvillette will be here soon."

You take a seat near him. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough that it would be clear that you were talking. Maybe "monsieur Neuvillette" will see the two of you and decide that this marriage wasn't something he wanted a part of.

"Congratulations on your engagement," your new friend tells you after a moment. You give him a tight lipped smile.

"Thanks."

Once again, silence descends over you two. You fidget with your skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from travel. Hopefully, it wasn't something your new husband would be upset about.

At least the silence didn't feel as oppressive this time. You let yourself relax, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"Can I ask you something?"

The man beside you nods. You still haven't gotten his name yet, you realize. You'd have to ask later, after some other questions. Who knows when your parents and future husband will be coming.

"Um...how is Neuvillette?" you tentatively ask, to which you only receive a rather blank, if not curious look.

You suppose you'll have to be more direct. Though it almost pains you.

But at least, if he's not kind, you would like a warning. Some way to prepare yourself for what the rest of your life is going to be like. Some women, they don't even get that. They were woken up on the day of their wedding, and the rest of their lives was at the whims of their husbands.

You steel yourself, and fully turn your attention to your friend.

"Is he kind?"

Something in him softens at that. He looks at you with an emotion that you can't recognize in that moment. Pity, maybe?

He opens his mouth, but before you can get your answer, the door opens.

Your parents lean in for a moment, see you sitting on the couch, talking to a stranger, but strangely have nothing bad to say about that. In fact, they look delighted.

"Are you two getting along well?" your mother asks you, somewhat reminding you of a cat just having caught a bird.

The satisfaction on her face made you uneasy, like there was a secret you were missing.

"Fine, thank you," your friend replied for you when you couldn't manage words. "Your daughter is very polite."

Your parents beam at that. The uneasy feeling in your stomach gets worse.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette."

Somehow, it hadn't dawned on you. Your stomach feels like it falls into the floor, but Neuvillette doesn't seem to have any other reaction, looking at your parents. They don't even wither under his stare.

You never wanted to shrink into the floor more. You had just asked your future husband about himself. And more than that, you asked him if he was kind.

Your parents talk with Neuvillette, allowing you a moment to feel invisible and wallow in your self-pity and embarrassment.

At least, until you feel a small tug on the sleeve of your blouse.

It's one of the melusines, you had found them to be very cute upon first seeing them. Your parents hadn't explained much about them, so you found yourself blinking down at the small melusine.

"He is," she says to you, nodding.

You tilt your head to the side. Briefly, you feel eyes on you, but when you look at your parents, they're still talking to Neuvillette, and taking his attention.

"He's what?"

She hands you a long ribbon. It's a deep, ocean blue, the same color that Neuvillette is wearing.

"He is kind," she explains, patiently, as though you were a child. "I heard you ask."

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, especially as she climbed up next to you, weaving the ribbon through your hair, and both your parents and Neuvillette turned to stare.

"Y/N, that is very rude to ask," your mother scolds, because that is the lot of women in life, only to worry about when men think of you and what might make you undesirable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Nonsense, it is a very reasonable question to ask. Why wouldn't someone want to know who they're marrying?" Neuvillette cuts in, before your mother can scold you any more.

Your parents fall silent, nodding their heads in agreement as though they hadn't been about to lecture you like a child. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the Melusine finishing with your hair.

"There," she says, with her self imposed job done. "Will you be having a wedding?"

You weren't sure your heart could take any more surprises today. Your cheeks hadn't even lost their blush from the first moment, at this point you didn't think they'd ever go back to their normal color.

"We'll have to see," you murmur, because you weren't completely sure yourself.

She nods, taking in your word and opinion as though it was law. Neuvillette didn't contradict you either, but did finally turn back to your parents.

You don't get too much of a chance to participate in most of the conversation. The Melusine, Sedene, as you learned the name of, asks you more questions that keep you occupied.

It's a welcome distraction. It's better than awkwardly listening to a conversation about your future where at least two of the three people here wouldn't even care for your input.

The jury was still out on Neuvillette.

Eventually though, it grew late, late enough that Sedene was sleeping with her head on your lap. It seemed that finally the other three were tired of negotiating over your life.

Before you knew it, you looked up from your lap just in time to see Neuvillette leave without even a goodbye, the door clicking behind him. Your parents look much too pleased with themselves, which you somehow didn't think was possible.

"I told you, the match would be a good one," your mother tells your father, pride seeping into her voice.

You're not so sure. You can't be sure. At least not yet.

"Yes," your father agrees, with the same fond voice he always had when he didn't want to argue with your mother, and it's easier just to agree.

It seems, just like the foundation of Liyue, that your future is set in stone.

You hope Fontaine will be kind to you.

-x-x-x-x-

You do not have a wedding.

It's actually fine with you. More than fine, really. Apparently as Chief Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette is well liked and popular. The amount of people you'd have to invite to the wedding would be too many for you.

So you simply don't. You sign a document and in the eyes of the law, and of Neuvillette, that is enough.

Though a part of you aches that you will never have the traditional Liyuen wedding you dreamed of as a child. But you suppose that dreams of childhood should stay there.

You move into Neuvillette's home. Fontaine comes as a culture shock, almost.

The amount of times you get absolutely lost in this fish-bowl of a city manages to astound even you.

It's not your fault, really. Liyue Harbor is easy to navigate, warm and welcoming. In Fontaine, the streets all somehow manage to look the same, though the shops sell things you never even thought of. At some point, you're pretty sure you even see a woman standing outside of a building with a mechanical bird.

You end up seeing other Melusines more than your new husband. You don't really blame him for this, his job is important and needed, so each day he bids you a single "good morning" along with a look you couldn't decipher, as he heads to the Opera House.

That's a whole other thing about Fontaine that you still haven't investigated.

It's not as though you're upset that you don't see Neuvillette often. But he is one of the few people that you know here, and it doesn't take long for you to be lonely in the new city, without any of your friends.

Though you find the Meluine's to be kind. They help you when you get lost, and press small gifts into your palms as they take your hands to lead you around.

They tell you to tell Neuvillette to take some time off work. To spend some time with you. You nod and agree that you'll tell him the next time you see him.

But when the man quickly leaves in the morning and doesn't return until late, you never really get a chance to.

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he'd been avoiding you.

It's like that for almost a month. He says good morning, disappears, and you wander the city to familiarize yourself with it. He never comes home until the sun has almost set, and night is almost there, while you wander until the rain finally starts for the day.

You asked the Melusine's about it once, commenting that there wasn't so much rain in Liyue. They tell you of the hydro dragon and the tears it cries. You hope that someday you will get to meet this dragon and see what makes them so sad.

At least, it stays like that until it doesn't, as most things tend to do.

You were lost, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but unlike the times before, there were no Melusine's to bring you back home or to a place you knew. The rain had started earlier today, earlier than anyone seemed to expect, and before you knew it, you were huddled in an alley, your clothing absolutely soaked and shivers running down your spine from the wet and the cold.

You missed Liyue. You missed your friends, your parents, you missed the smells and sounds of the harbor. Tears burned in your eyes and mixed with the rain on your cheeks.

Standing there simply isn't going to fix things though, so you eventually left your small, but dry, protection, and decided to finally figure out this city.

Your confidence fades the longer you walk around.

It takes almost two hours of wandering around in the rain until you finally recognize something. Not the path home, but to the first place you ever meet Neuvillette, despite not knowing at the time.

You push open the door. It's late, though that doesn't seem to mean the place is devoid of life. Wrapping shaking arms around yourself, you spot a sliver of light coming from Neuvillette's office.

It felt much too late to be working, but perhaps it was Sedene, fixing up things. Tentatively, you knock on the door, and the faint scratching of a pen against paper suddenly stopped.

Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. You took a single step back, but before you could change your mind and leave, the door swung open and Neuvillette stood there, a look of mild concern on his face.

Neither of you spoke. Neuvillette looks you up and down, brows furrowing, and you realize all at once that you must look like a sight, absolutely soaked and dripping water on the floor. If you weren't so cold, your cheeks would be flushed.

"Why are you here?" he asks, glancing around as though that would provide him with the answer.

Your shoulders slump. You can't really explain why. Maybe it's the disappointment at the sight of you, or the lack of a warm welcome. Not 'what happened to you' or 'why are you soaking wet' but instead a question that felt almost like he questioning your presence in general.

"I-um," you stutter through chattering teeth, "I got lost and didn't know where to go."

That felt like an understatement of what happened, but you weren't sure how else to answer the question.

Neuvillette didn't seem to know either.

When he didn't say anything more, you shifted from foot to foot, wincing at the cold and the squish of wetness. You'd be lucky if you didn't get sick, after this.

"You got lost?" he finally asks, as though the concept was foreign to him.

You don't know what to say, so you shrug, peering around him. It seemed Sedene had already left for today, and there went your hope for an escort home.

"The streets all look the same to me," you manage, shivering again. "Uh-you can just tell me which way to go, and I'll get out of your hair. I didn't mean to be a bother."

"And why didn't you ask anyone for help? Anyone could have told you where I live."

The question almost comes out cold, for how logical it is. You huff, a small noise of frustration. All you wanted at the moment was to get out of these wet clothes and to be warm again. But it seems that isn't going to happen any time soon.

"Never mind," you murmur, suddenly so tired. Of course he wouldn't understand why you wouldn't want to ask for help. Your Fontainian was still in it's learning stage, and while you could ask a couple of questions with a thick accent, you had no idea how to ask someone to lead you home.

Plus, wouldn't it reflect badly on him, to have a wife who didn't even know how to return home? But you supposed, if it didn't matter to him, then it shouldn't matter to you.

"I'll see you at home, then," you murmur, turning on your heel to leave.

It was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment. The rain seemed to be coming down even harder, you could hear the thunderous roar of rain against the roof as you went to the main door.

A little more rain wouldn't hurt, and you were pretty sure you knew the way home from here.

You step out into the rain, but surprisingly, you don't get any wetter than before. The rain hits something above you, and you glance up to see an umbrella.

Neuvillette stands slightly behind you, umbrella extended over you. You still hadn't stopped shivering, teeth clattering together. Neuvillette almost looks pained as he looks down at you.

"You'll catch your death out here," he says, as though that explains everything.

And then, in true Fontaine fashion, he extends his arm out to you to link your own through, a true and proper escort.

You take it, if only for the stability. And maybe the warmth. And also the umbrella is hardly big enough for two, if you don't stand close, then Neuvillette would get wet as well.

That's the only reason.

He makes quick work of the walk home, and you were almost dismayed by how close you had been the entire time. By the time you walk up the steps, still shivering from the cold, the rain had finally stopped, the sky clearing to reveal the stars.

"I shall make you something to eat while you dry off," he says, as though it is the law of the land.

You wonder if that is how he sounds in court, when he's trying the cases. You almost want to argue just for the sake of it.

But being dry and having a warm meal sounds much too good to ignore, so you only nod, and go to change your clothes. You debate on taking a bath, the call of the warm water ends up being much too tempting for you.

You emerge feeling like a new person. The water washes away the feelings of the day, and the coldness in your bones. You emerge feeling like a new person, if not a bit more tired and ready for bed than before.

Neuvillette is true to his words. Your hair drips with water as you peek into the kitchen, only to find him sitting at the table, waiting, with two bowls of soup in front of him.

"Come," he says when you don't move forward. You do as asked, sitting beside him and inhaling the rich aroma of the soup.

You had found here that the food varied greatly from what you were used to in Liyue. It certainly wasn't bad, but it was an adjustment. Even the soup was a bit creamier than you were used to, but you ate it eagerly, allowing it to chase away whatever lingering chills the bath hadn't rid you of.

"I'd like to apologize," Neuvillette starts, his own food barely touched, like it's an afterthought for him.

You tilt your head, exhaustion falling over you from the soup and warmth. "For what?"

He looks embarrassed. It's a rather cute look on the normally stoic man. Neuvillette struggles for words, almost seeming to give the words spoken to you the same value that he gives to the court.

"I was not aware that you were struggling to adjust here, I should have foreseen such an event occurring."

He almost looks upset, suddenly. You understand, at least you think you understand. It must be hard having a wife who couldn't even navigate the city of your home.

"It's okay, I'll do better in the future," you reassure, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as you stand.

It's the first bit of contact you've had since you were married and he placed a kiss upon your cheek at your parents badgering. He looks a bit annoyed though, so you retract your hand to not make him more uncomfortable.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I should have been here to help you adjust."

"Oh," you say, honestly confused. "it's alright. You're very important here, I don't want to be a bother when you're so busy."

Your words seem to have the opposite of your intended desire. If anything, he looks more upset, leaving you with a rather sour taste in your mouth.

You seemed to be more of an inconvenience than you had even considered.

You hoped this wouldn't turn into an argument. You were tired from wandering and walking for hours, from being caught out in the rain. You rested your head on your hand, trying to think of something to say.

Before your tired mind could think of anything, Neuvillette sighed, a long suffering thing that sounded much older than he must be.

"You should go to bed."

You don't need to be told twice. You take your dish to the sink, leaving it there to be washed by you in the morning. Neuvillette rises, though it seems more to see you off than to actually leave.

"Good night, y/n," he says quietly, still as upset as before.

"Good night, monsieur Neuvillette."

You fall asleep as soon as you're tucked underneath the covers of your bed. You wonder if it's the bed that you're meant to share with your husband, but he never joins you.

And that's fine with you.

-x-x-x-x-

He's still there, in the morning.

It's a sight that makes you freeze coming out of your bedroom, just able enough to peek down the hall and see him in the same place as last night, at the kitchen table. He holds the paper in his hands, the same one that you've seen just about everyone in Fontaine obsessed with.

Did you wake up early? A quick glance at the time told you no, that in fact you had woken up later than normal. Neuvillette was meant to be long gone by now, off to court.

As though sensing your stare, the paper falls, and startling purple eyes lock onto you.

"Ah, you're awake."

You nod, because what else are you going to do? Neuvillette folds the paper back into its original shape.

"Let me know when you are ready to leave."

Well, you couldn't say you expected that to happen. You nod after a second, before disappearing to get yourself ready.

While you don't look your best, at least you aren't soaked and shaking. Really, the amount of time that you've spent with Neuvillette could be counted on one hand, and you did not like the thought of one of those times being when you were in such a sorry state.

A little bit later, you were back by Neuvillette, looking at him with nothing short of confusion as he prepares to leave.

Oh, the disappointment aches for a moment. Like a child being promised a treat only to have it taken away.

"Well? Come along then."

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You take a few, tentative steps forward, until he offers you his hand.

You take it, after a moment, brows furrowed with confusion.

"Don't you have court to attend to?" you ask, as he leads you outside.

"I have sent notice that I will be taking today off. I have recently become aware that my wife needs a tour of Fontaine, and I consider that a much more pressing item on my agenda."

Your cheeks color. You can't tell if it's at being called Neuvillette's wife, or from how he doesn't let go of your hand even when you walk outside.

Before you can ask him if he's sure, if he can really take time off, Neuvillette gestures down the street, and begins what has to be one of the most in depth tours of Fontaine to exist.

This time, getting lost in the sights and sounds is fun. Neuvillette explains every building you pass, the history behind it, and what is happening there now. He lets you pull him in random directions when something catches your eye, and answers every question that you can even think of.

It's fun. Neuvillette is well liked by the people, and suddenly that seems to mean you're well liked as well. The food vendors give you free samples, pressing them into your palm and insisting that you take it despite your protests.

Even the Melusine's stop, chatting with you more than Neuvilllette, much to his surprise. He even comments that you know their names, and seems very ashamed when you point out that you've spent more time with them instead of him.

You feel like you can actually navigate the city, by the time the sun is setting. Your bones ache from the exhaustion that the excitement has left you with. When Neuvillette notices, he starts herding you home, despite your protests.

The last thing you want is for the day to end. Going back to how it was before seems unbearable now that you know how it could be. If Neuvillette knows of your plight, he says nothing of it.

He simply wishes you a good night, and lets you head to bed.

If it's a dream, you hope that you will remember every detail of it.

-x-x-x-x-

Things don't change after that, much to your relief.

Neuvillette stays in the morning, talking with you sometimes. Most of the time he reads, while you make coffee for yourself, and subsequently him. He likes it with two sugars, no milk.

The information feels nice to have. Especially when, on the very, very rare occasions you wake up before him, you can have a hot cup of coffee waiting for him.

The little things before you grow before anything else. Conversations in the morning. Coffee. Neuvillette bringing you home treats that you love, especially the conch madeleines.

There are other things, as well. When you mention missing a certain dish from Liyue, Neuvillette goes out of his way to procure it for you. You're not sure how he manages to do it, but if it means you can get slow cooked bamboo shoot soup whenever you like, then you're happy not to know.

He comes home earlier, as well. As soon as the case is done for the day, it feels like he's on his way to find you. You're happy to do just that, telling him of everything you managed to do during the day, or whatever else is going on in your head that you want to share.

Neuvillette always listens. And he remembers. You mention once, in an off handed comment, about how beautiful you thought the rainbow roses of Fontaine were.

The next day, you woke up to a bouquet of them at your bedside.

You do your best to return the favor, going to collect him at the Opera house when his day is finished.

When you were younger, you read stories of people falling in love instantly, with a single look and it was easy from there.

You think now, as a married woman, that the stories are wrong. Love comes in the small gestures, in the moments spent together.

-x-x-x-x-

It's pouring rain outside. A heavy downpour that has been going on for the last hour.

It's also the time Neuvillette normally comes home, but it doesn't seem that way today. The change in routine throws you off more than you'd like to admit.

You wait another half hour before you grab your cloak, a heavy thing that Neuvillette insisted on buying you so you wouldn't get soaked in the rain any longer, and head out to the Opera House.

You're not too fond of the aquabuses here. They're faster than walking, but something about them feels so awkwardly slow. But with a bit of tension in your shoulders, you bite down the complaints and make small talk with the Melusine piloting the aquabus as you arrive.

Neuvillette only took you over here once, to show you the Fountain of Lucine. You suppose, on another level, it was also to make sure that you knew where the Opera House was in case you needed him and didn't want to get lost.

You're thankful for his planning.

Everyone else has already left, except for a very dedicated couple by the fountain, praying for blessings upon their child. You wonder if someday that will be you, but dismiss the thought with a blush.

It takes you much too long to find Neuvillette. For a man who cuts such an imposing figure, you wander around in the rain looking for him for much longer than needed. Eventually though, you find him at the back of the Opera House, standing in the rain as though he doesn't notice it.

"Neuvillette?" you call, quiet, as to not startle him. It seems you do so anyways, from how he jumps. "Are you alright?"

He nods, but doesn't speak. You reach out to take a gloved hand, everything about him feels cold.

You lead him back home, and he follows you as though he has no mind for anything else. It takes too long to get home but also not enough time. You hold his hand the entire way.

"Was court today rough?" you finally ask, when you're in the security of your shared home. Neuvillette lets out a hum, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.

You usher him to the bathroom to clean himself up, and go to make something warm, when the irony of the situation hits you all at once, because it must have only been a few months ago that Neuvillette did the same thing for you.

It felt nice to have the roles switched.

Neuvillette doesn't seem hungry, so you usher him into your own bed, since truthfully you've been suspicious that he's been sleeping on the couch or at his desk in his office to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.

You sit down, and urge him to lay his head in your lap. You brush your fingers through his slightly damp hair, and you hum a Liyuen lullaby your mother used to sing to you.

Neuvillette never talks about court. You asked him once and only once about it, curious since everyone in Fontaine seemed to think that the cases were some kind of show. But Neuvillette had simply said that it was very usual, and not worth discussing.

At the time, you took him at his word. Now though, you wonder if it's something more.

"I believe an innocent man was sentenced today," Neuvillette says, after a moment. His voice is so soft, you almost can't hear it under the pouring rain outside.

"Is that so?" you ask, a silent prompt. Does he want to continue? Or leave it there?

He sighs after only a second, pressing further against your hand in his hair. Like a cat seeing attention.

"I'm sure it will be resolved soon, I simply need to investigate things more."

You nod, remaining silent. Neuvillette doesn't explain more, but eventually, as his breathing evens out, the rain comes to a stop outside.

You can't bring yourself to move. It would no doubt wake up Neuvillette, and that seemed like the last thing anyone needed. So you settled amongst the pillows, and close your eyes.

If you wake up tomorrow, still close to another and sleepy limbs tangled together, you said nothing of it. Neither does Neuvillette.

After that though, your bed becomes just the bed, and you're not opposed to that at all.

-x-x-x-x-

The Fountain of Lucine ends up being one of your favorite places in Fontaine. Not for any particular reason, you tell yourself, it's simply pretty to look at.

And that's not a lie. It is pretty to look at, and it's fun to visit and listen to expecting parents wish for good things for their children. It was nice to see the sights and sounds without the hustle and bustle of the city.

The first time you end up going out though, you can't say you had the most pleasant experience.

You had gotten the idea in your head, perhaps you were too bored lately, that you should visit Neuvillette at work and bring him lunch. So you packed a small bag, and made the journey.

Only to be stopped at the entrance of the Opera House by one of the gardes.

"Court is in session, no one is allowed in, miss, without a ticket."

Your head tilts to the side, truly puzzled. A ticket? People bought tickets to court, as though it was a show?

"I'm not going to see the court, I came to drop something off for Neuvillette," you explain to the man, holding up the small box.

The man eyes it with a bit of suspicion, and part of you almost wants to ask if he really thinks you've poisoned it. Another part of you is sure that if you ask, you will absolutely get accused of that.

"That's nice, miss, but you still can't go in. I'm sure you know monsieur Neuvillette has many admirers, and we can't stop court simply because you wish to give him a gift."

Wow. You weren't even sure how to unpack that. You crossed your arms over your chest, not budging.

"I am his wife, here to bring him lunch. Do you want to explain to Neuvillette tomorrow about how you banned his wife from visiting him.?"

The man, you still haven't even gotten his name yet, isn't looking at you any more. He's looking behind you, a look of mild panic on his face.

Oh, this was going to be just like one of those soap operas back in Liyue, wasn't it? You knew without looking who was going to be there.

"Monsieur Neuvillette!" he said, giving the salute of Fontaine. "I was just telling this young woman that we do not allow visitors during court."

"That is true," Neuvillette says, you can almost hear a bit of smile in his voice. "However, I think I can make an exception for my wife. Thank you though, I will handle it from here."

The man scurries away before you can say anything. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs.

"I think you scared him," you said, turning to your husband.

You ignore your racing heart at hearing Neuvillette call you his wife for the first time. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face though.

"I think if anyone scared him between the two of us, my dear, it was you," he muses, and yes, it is amusement you can hear in his voice.

You two stand there, smiling at each other for a moment before you remember just why you made the journey out here.

"Oh, I brought you lunch." You place the small package in his hand. "I'm sure you're busy here and I wanted to make sure you were eating. I didn't know I needed a ticket to get inside. How did you know I was here?"

"Ah, Aeife told me you had arrive, and I suspected that you would encounter a problem."

He gestures to the side, and sure enough, the small Melusine is there. She gives you a wave before going back to skipping and offering help to those who need it

"She's sweet."

"She is," Neuvillette agrees. "I think most of them like you more than me."

"Who wouldn't like me?"

The smile Neuvillette gives you almost makes you blush, but you barely manage to get a hold of yourself.

"Yes, they'd be fools not to like you."

And now you were blushing. You gently swatted Neuvillette's arm, and only received a chuckle for your antics.

"Thank you," Neuvillette says, genuinely. "I must return now, but I appreciate the thought."

A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through you, but you pushed it down, nodding your head. "Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you. Off you go now."

You made a little shooing motion, the smile on your face letting him know you were simply teasing. But he didn't leave.

"Any time you wish to come and see me, there will always be a ticket waiting for you at the booth." He gestures to the sales booth, which very much looked closed, but you didn't say that. "I'll be sure to tell you the next time Lyney and Lynette do their show."

You visibly perked up, which gained you a small chuckle. You hadn't been shy about saying you wanted to see the show, though apparently it was impossible to find tickets to it.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to take you up on that."

You stood up on your tip toes, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. He seems surprised at the touch, but after a moment manages to compose himself, saying a quick goodbye before returning to work.

Aefie tugged at your skirt, a gentle motion almost as soft as a breeze. You knelt down to her level, allowing her to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you for making Neuvillette so happy."

-x-x-x-x-

You fell a lot, as a child, as all children do.

Scraped knees and bruised elbows. What is childhood without a few injuries? Without those precious moments that make them realize oh, sometimes life has pain.

The first time you heard of the concept of "falling in love" you had thought it was like that. Falling on the ground and bruising your knees.

Now though, you think it is something else. Like the feeling of falling into a warm bed at the end of a long day.

Neuvillette is already in bed tonight, laying on his side facing where you normally lay. You tip toe over to the bed, just in case he's already fallen asleep.

He hasn't though, and your eyes meet his vivid purple ones as you lay down, facing him as well.

"I thought you were asleep," you murmur. Tentatively, you reached for him, only to have him meet you halfway. Your fingers laced together with his.

"I was waiting for you."

Such a simple declaration is enough to make you blush. A year of marriage and he still managed to make you blush.

"I'm here now."

Something changes in his eyes, and he looks at you, so, so, fond. "You are here."

You both lay there, either unwilling or unable to fall asleep, feeling so close but somehow still so far away. It's one of the nights when the rain isn't falling. When you first came to Fontaine, it felt as though the rain never stopped, but now it's only occasionally.

"You never answered my question, you know."

Neuvillette frowns for a moment, thinking. You take pity on him before he can worry if he made you upset.

"I asked if you were kind," you murmur, gentle.

It felt like ages ago, talking to a stranger without knowing who they were. Neuvillette looks at you, waiting, knowing you weren't finished.

You had been so worried about everything. And though Sedene had told you, you didn't know if you could believe it or not.

"And what have you found?" Neuvillette asks. His voice is small, as though he's actually afraid of how you might answer.

You don't hesitate.

"You are," you whisper. You inch closer, knees brushing against his own. "You are so, so kind."

He kisses you. Lips sliding against your own, slotting there as though they were meant to be there. And desperately, with almost a full year of longing in you, you kiss back.

You're breathless by the time that he pulls back. He looks the same, and for the first time you see a small blush on his cheeks.

"I love you," he whispers, a reverent noise just for you.

You smile, leaning in to kiss him again.

"I love you too."

#genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #I might write more for this if it's wanted!#it was really fun to write #Neuvillette is just such perfect husband material

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hezuart · 8 months

Text

LITTLE NIGHTMARES 3

aaaaaaAAAAAA

DANG OKAy

So I had a premonition for Little Nightmares 3. Last night I had a dream that Mono was just growing old in a tower he chose to stay in as a hermit and just retired there. The runaway kid's real name was revealed to be "Gilbert" and he summoned UFOs that performed a wicked cool airshow over the sea, but then the USA government shot them down and captured them for experimentation. The government was also after a bunch of super powered teenagers and children. They all swam away and tried to escape. Six was amongst them. One of the teenagers took a liking to Six and used her powers to change Six's (super long???) hair a bright red. It was then revealed the government figurehead in charge of the capture raid was Buzz Lightyear from Toy Story. I should also mention every single person including the kids in my dream looked like they were from the Lorax movie. Like imagine Little Nightmares but all Onceler style. I woke up to several dozen messages of Little Nightmares 3 trailer and well... I'm very relieved it's nothing like my dream.

~~~

Anyway! I had very low, negative expectations for LN3. I didn't think it would ever come out, and if it did, it wouldn't be the same. I am SO glad to be wrong. This developer apparently also worked on Little Nightmares 2, so they had a feel for the story, concepts, atmosphere, and gameplay. Little Nightmares 3 trailer doesn't give us a ton to work with, but I see high inspiration from previously unused concepts. Like the crows and mirrors in the Little Nightmares comics, and the giant baby from Little Nightmares 2 concept art.

The crow boy looks as though he can go through mirrors and technically fly with a black-feathered umbrella he uses to float. The girl has a wrench, and at first, I thought she was wearing an ugly gas mask, but it's apparently an old-fashioned pilot hat. So I touched it up in my drawing to make it look more recognizable... and cute. Already their designs are very intriguing. Can't tell what the full story is about, but they're new characters in a new setting, I'm very excited to see the world get expanded!

It's still a somewhat different style and atmosphere to the previous two games, but this developer really seemed like they paid attention and made it as authentic as they possibly could, and for that I am so grateful, I respect them so much. I am now changed! I've got a hopeful and optimistic mindset for the future of this series.

ESPECIALLY AFTER LEARNING IT'S ACTUALLY GONNA BE CO-OP. HELLO?!

WHO WANTS TO DROP ME OFF A CLIFF?? LETS DO IT

#little nightmares #little nightmares 3 #LN3 #i hope we discover their names soon

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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 3 months

Note

Hi🩵 I hope you're having a great day

I was wondering maybe if you could make headcanons about how percy would be like in bed like his favorite positions and things he does to his s/o

THANK YOU IN ADVANCE 🩵

What Percy would be like in bed NSFW warning

check out my masterlist for more NSFW->masterlist

tags: percy jackson

missionary for starters: so he can see your face and your reactions from above.

talking about above, I think he would also enjoy the foreplay to start things off - placing his lover against the counter or on top of something and get between their legs.

There, he can take off their shirt or his own shirt and do things slowly. In his mind, the bed is where things really start, so he wants to get comfortable as possible.

the idea of pounding and going harder is for very obv. reasons a turn on but he is hesitant to do it because in the moment he gets really close, so hes afraid he'll cum.

he has the habit of not only staring but also looking away shyly when they stare back. Sometimes he will hold the stare until either looks away, he likes to build tension during and even before they start. When his s/o makes noises, his eyes flicker to their face, he thinks its really flattering that they moan because of him.

once after the first time(s) he would be comfortable enough to start using different positions.

He would stick with the classics, missionary, doggy-style (this one really got his heart pounding in his ears he was so turned on he couldn't breathe straight and kept panting).

He likes the idea of grabbing his s/o's leg or ankle and yank them into place, like dragging them toward him so he can get a better angle.

Percy wants to keep quiet, so he ends up scrunching his face ups and cocking his head to the side, biting down and clenching his jaw tight, sometimes even holding his breath slightly.

but as soon as he breathes, a noise always ends up escaping. its like a half-whine but its somewhat high-pitched and doesn't last long (meaning he doesnt let himself drag it out).

the sight of his s/o looking up at him or looking at them from behind makes his hands somewhat clammy and he feels embarassed that he needs to wipe them on the bedsheets.

praise him, dirty talk him (this one takes him by surprise) and he becomes such a love-struck fool willing to do anything to please his lover. He needs to know if he's doing well, otherwise he will spiral and his thoughts will consume him - to the point where he might even run away.

if his s/o takes the initiative he feels flustered but also insecure for a moment: was he not doing it right? mind you, this guy is a virgin and has not done things with anyone, so he can't help but feel insecure. but yet again, convince him and praise him and he is back.

once the sex and the pillow-talk comes, he imagines scenarios for the future: like his s/o straddling his thighs while they're either on the sofa or in his bedroom, his shirt thrown half haphazardly on the floor somewhere, gripping his s/os thighs and he's leanign his head back in pleasure ...

he takes more initiative, not afraid of grabbign your waist or hips during normal day-to-day activities...it becomes such a visible change that his parents are wondering what happened.

Percy becomes more and more confident in himself.

his favourite position is honestly anything really, he isnt picky. but if I had to choose one, I would say the position where his s/o is laying down on their stomach and hes ontop behind them.

he forces eyecontact, that's all I will say.

he frowns if they try to control their voice, he hates it and will grab their hands away. or do it harder just for them to not be able to hold back.

has tan lines dont ask where ...

handsy and grabby but it depends on what position they're doing and the timing, honestly it's pretty random.

whenever he licks his lips its pretty audible, you can just hear it from across the room.

quirks an eyebrow (not to be judgemental) if you say you're too shy, because you're both naked at this point sooooo. but not pushy.

wants to get to know your body: fingering, touching you anywhere, making out.

Im sorry i need to add on that i feel like hes the type of guy rhat would actually enjoy standing sex. Like his partner gripping the kitchen counter or the wall while hes behind. I feel like he loves to get a nice rhythm going and the sound of his balls slapping against them, the obscene wet noises coming from their genitals, the panting and moaning from the both of them, his fingers turning white from gripping their hips (he's trying to hold himself back), his mouth hanging open supressing his voice (he has a bad habit of holding his breath while doing this so when he finally breathes he's panting loudly), him grinding into the person to pause (again, hes about to cum), he wants to keep going for as long as he can, the idea of milking and dragging out an orgasm is his favourite way to do it. And when his partner finally lets out a long moan when they reached their climax, they unfortunately missed how Percy threw his head back and yelled in pleasure too when he came. I swear the walls slightly vibrated when he finished with that moan, his father is the earthshaker after all....

#percy jackson scenarios #pjo #percy jackson headcanons #greek mythology #ares #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo series #pjo headcanons #pjo headcanon #pjo fandom #percy jackson thoughts #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson masterlist #percy jackson x reader #percy series

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myocsfanfictions · 29 days

Text

THE WRATH OF FIRE

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 8

The rumors surrounding Rhaenyra’s children only got worse when her third child had been born.

Ysilla was now a girl of fifteen. She was very different from the skinny little child that had left Runestone so long ago. People would describe her as elegant, intelligent, and beautiful. She had grown to be graceful, as much as her dragon was. And as Dārysyr, her fierce was known by now. Her dragon had grown large and powerful; his muscles were well-formed, and his wings were strong. Ysilla went flying on Dragonback once a week. She would have liked to do it more, but she had her studies and her duties.

Just a couple of years before, Ysilla had the chance to speak with the Alchemists of King’s Landing, and she had been left very fascinated.

“Vysenia was said to be familiar with dark magic,” she said one day, sitting beneath the Hearth Tree as she observed Aemond practicing combat movements with a stick.

“You want to be Vysenia born again?” He asked, fighting against air.

“Do you think I’d made a fool of myself?” She asked with a little smile as she looked at the boy.

“No,” he answered, turning to her, “I think you are as willed as her. But with the grace of Rhaenys.”

Graceful. Yes. Ysilla had grown up to be very grateful. She knew how to bow, to speak, and to dance. The court was well impressed by her. And from Runestone, her aunt Jeyne was hoping for a good arranging for Ysilla. Not only because she had become very well respected by the people in King’s Landing but also because Queen Alicent seemed to have high expectations from Ysilla. She called her her ward.

“She probably wishes for you to be wed to one of her sons,” that rumor had reached her aunt Jeyne as well. And she seemed pleased by it in her letters. A Royce on the throne.

Ysilla, on the contrary, had no thirst for power. The thought of ambitions and schemes only reminded her of her father and what he had done to be always a step closer to the Iron Throne. But she was not her father.

The lack of personal ambition, though, did not make her blind to politics and schemes. It was because she knew how harmful they could be that she was always vigilant and observant of what happened in court. Fully aware that knowledge and duty were what was required to keep alliances and peace. She had grown up side by side with the Queen, raised by the same people that raised the princes. She knew that the health of the King was faltered, as did the respect some people had for the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when her children started to grow up to become more similar to the Captain of the Guards than her own husband. Everybody knew, and yet the King did nothing. This had also happened ten years before when her father had killed her mother.

“Are you not coming to the pits?” Aegon asked that morning when they were breaking their fast.

“You heard that right,” she answered, smiling at him before taking a sip of her milk.

“You cannot ditch me like this,” he said, leaning towards her with playful eyes, “I’ve promised you today would have been fun.”

Aegon had grown up, but his search for fun and enjoyment had remained the same. “Helaena wished to dance today. You know how I love her and how I enjoy dancing.”

He cocked his head to a side, “More than riding Dārysyr?” Then his hands moved to touch a strain of her hair, “Did I say how I like your hair today?” Ysilla took his hand to push it away. Aegon had always had a fascination with her hair, and since he had started to grow and notice women, he had begun to voice his compliments on her hair and appearance more often than not.

“I love nothing more than Dārysyr,” she answered, looking at the boy. "And we already flew with him and Sunfyre last week.”

Not so long before, Aegon managed to bend Sunfyre, becoming his dragonrider. Sunfyre was known to be the most beautiful dragon alive, and he really was. He had golden scales and pink shades, and even his flames were golden.

“I wasn’t meant to go fly together,” he said, a mischief light in his eyes.

“What’s with the face?” She asked, making him laugh.

“What face?”

“The one that always brings you trouble,” she answered with a glare. He was planning something. She knew him too well to be mistaken. She didn’t have time to ask because the wooden door opened to let Aemond enter the chamber.

“Good morrow, Aemond,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Ysilla, brother,” he answered shortly. It was how Aemond was, very different from his older brother. He was composed and dutiful. Less impulsive than Aegon was. “Mother is looking for you, Ysilla.” He said, sitting down.

“That’s why you’re not coming. Because of Mother,” Aegon said, making Ysilla turn to him.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” she said, standing up. Her eyes went from one brother to the other. "I’ll see you both when you return from the pit,” then she looked at Aegon.

“Behave.” He blown her a kiss.

“Like always, my sweet.”

“Stop that,” Aemond said, focusing his attention on the plate in front of him. Ysilla ignored Aegon, making her way towards the door. She wondered why the Queen wanted to see her. Ysilla knew she would have been busy with Rhaenyra after the princess’s labor ended and the third of her children would be born. Rhaenyra had been screaming for hours, and Ysilla stopped to observe the corridor that led to her chambers on her way to the Queen. By the screams, she seemed to be suffering very much. That made her anxious. She knew that it was a woman’s duty to give children to her husband. She just hoped the gods had mercy for them and an easy way to bring life to the world.

“Princess,” Ser Cole was guarding the door, bowing his head as she walked closer.

“Good morrow, Ser,” she answered politely. “I hope your day has been good so far.”

The man smiled, “It is, Princess.” His smile would have made her blush just a few years before. But the more she grew up, the less embarrassing it became to share words with men, even handsome men such as Ser Criston.

When Ysilla entered the chamber, the Queen was standing next to the window, and a serving girl was fixing the back of her dress.

“My Queen,” she greeted, bowing. “Have you asked for me?”

“Good morrow, my dear,” Alicent Hightower smiled kindly at her, “Indeed. Helaena is a little... agitated today."

Helaena had stayed the same in those years. She was still the sweetest girl that Ysilla had ever met. Sweet and gentle. But her queer behavior sometimes agitated even herself. Ysilla had seen Helaena in those moments, and she knew that the princess didn't like to be alone when she was feeling like that.

"We'll find something else to do then," Ysilla answered. They could have taken a walk or talked about bugs. Helaena liked bugs. Ysilla would have found something to ease Helaena's mind.

The Queen smiled at her, putting a hand on her arm. "What a blessing you are." Ysilla returned the gesture, bowing her head in gratitude and respect.

At that moment, the door behind them opened to reveal Rhaenyra and Laenor. Ysilla widened her eyes to see her cousin.

"Rhaenyra," the Queen gasped, "You should be resting after your labors."

"I have no doubt that you would prefer that, Your Grace," Rhaenyra answered, trying to keep her trembling voice steady. The pain that she had experienced was well visible on her face, and it was not surprising.

Ysilla had heard Rhaenyra screaming only a few moments before. She knew what happened during labor, and the septa had explained that to her. How could her cousin possibly walk? Or even walking up the stairs?

"You must sit," the Queen said, turning to one of her serving girls, "Talya, fetch a cushion for the Princess.” The girl bowed and turned to attend Rhaenyra.

“There’s no need,” Rhaenyra said. By the Queen insisted.

Ysilla followed Alicent as they walked towards the couple. Rhaenyra had finally accepted sitting down with Laenor's help, but seeing her in pain and holding her newborn baby, Ysilla felt like moving so that she could help her cousin sit. As the girl touched her arm, the Princess turned to look at her. A small smile appeared on her lips, probably still trying to hide her pain. It was well-known how stubborn Rhaenyra was.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“There’s no need,” Ysilla answered, then exchanging a look with the Queen.

Alicent was observing the baby like she had done with Lucerys just a few years before. Ysilla knew what she was thinking: even this child had nothing of Ser Laenor in him.

As Ysilla went back to stand next to the Queen, King Viserys entered the chamber with a huge smile on his face. “What happy news this morning,” he exclaimed.

The years had not been gentle to the King. His body was weaker and more fragile. His skin had gotten paler and his hair thinner. The condition of his left hand had gotten worse. He first lost just three fingers, but it kept getting worse until the Maester decided that it was better to cut off the entire arm. Even so, Ysilla’s uncle tried to maintain a positive attitude, always smiling at everyone.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” said Ser Leanor, taking the child in his arms to present him to the King. Ysilla observed Rhaenyra’s husband’s face as he looked at the baby. He smiled happily and proudly. Could he really be so blind? He had never seemed such a man to Ysilla. It was true, though, that he was not very present as a father.

He is more present than mine, anyway. She thought as she observed the unbothered son of Corlys Velaryon pass the child to the King. But even in his expression, Ysilla could not see surprise or disappointment. She could not understand why both men acted so blindly about the behavior of the future Queen? Why did her actions have no repercussions? Everybody knew, everybody whispered. And yet the King did nothing.

He must truly love her, if he is protecting her like that. Ysilla thought, observing the happiness on Viserys’ face.

“A fine Prince,” he said, his eyes looking at every one of them. Ysilla smiled, lowering her eyes. “Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.”

Surely, Ysilla thought. If the rumors were true and his father was Ser Harwin Strong, he surely could have become a terrific fighter as an adult. Breakbone was the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Does the babe have a name yet?” The Queen asked with curiosity.

Rhaenyra took a breath, “We haven’t spoken-”

“Joffrey.” Ser Leanor interrupted his wife. “He’ll be called Joffrey.”

Ysilla looked between them, hoping that her face did not give away the kind of thought she had in mind. Had they spoken of it or not? Did Rhaenyra agree with such a name?

“An unusual name for a Velaryon.” The Queen was speaking the truth. Velaryon came from Valyria as much as the Targaryens. Their names came from Old Valyria to keep the traditions. But it wasn’t only their costume: in the Seven Kingdoms, all the Noble Houses had names and family names. Ysilla’s name was a Royce name. Her mother, Lady Rhea, had done it on purpose. Ysilla’s father could be a Targaryen, but she had Royce’s blood in her veins as well.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose,” Ysilla would have frowned at the King’s words, but she had to keep her composure, so she decided to look at Rhaenyra and smile at her. The Princess did the same, but there was no truth behind that gesture. They were both aware of what was happening.

The King chuckled, still focused on Joffrey, and soon after, Laenor did the same before clearing his throat.

“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest,” Ser Laenor said, ready to help his wife get on her feet.

“Of course,” the King answered. The Queen was soon at his side, taking Joffrey in her hands. Ysilla moved aside when she saw the King walking closer to his daughter, but she didn’t walk very far, curious about what they would have talked about.

“Well done, my girl,” Viserys said with tenderness. Such a tone forced Ysilla to lower her eyes, fully aware that her father would never have such sweetness for her. If she’ll ever see him again. She knew that he was an Essos with his lady wife and their two twin daughters. She wondered how he was fathering them. If he was cold and cruel like he had been to her so long ago. Ten years had passed, and yet she remembered the way he had looked at her as he said that he felt nothing for his firstborn daughter.

“I do hope the labor was easy,” the King said as Ysilla walked towards the Queen, who was giving the baby back to Ser Leanor.

“Do keep trying, Ser Laenor. Sooner or later, you may get one that looks like you.” She had said it so politely, but her intentions were quite clear—she was voicing the thoughts of the entire court. The man looked startled, and when he noticed Ysilla standing there, she didn’t say anything. She only smiled, with no true intention behind it.

Rhaenyra then walked towards her husband before they both left the chamber. Ysilla bowed gracefully as they disappeared behind the heavy wooden door.

“What a happy day,” the King exclaimed full of happiness.

The Queen lowered her eyes from next to him. “Indeed, my love,” she answered.

The whole situation was against everything that politics and duty required. Ysilla could understand why her uncle was protecting his daughter, but her King was making a fool of himself. And whispers could only get louder and louder, not only against Rhaenyra but against the King as well. He was not only Rhaenyra’s father; he was the Protector of the Realm, of the peace of the Realm. How would the realm answer once the King had left that world? What was ahead of them? That uncertainty was heavy in her heart. Politics could be ruthless, and it could reclaim anyone’s life.

“You wanted to dance, I’m sorry,” Helaena was saying as they walked in the corridors of the Red Keep.

“Nonsense, Helaena,” she answered honestly. The events of that morning had left little room for light emotions in her heart. “I don’t feel like dancing today.”

“Running from the back is important,” her cousin said. Ysilla turned to observe her. It didn’t matter how many years they had known each other; Helaena’s strange sentences left Ysilla confused all the time. She knew better than to ask. Helaena didn’t know how to explain the meaning of her words, and the more people asked her to, the more she got agitated. That was one of those days. One where Ysilla stood quiet, listening to all the strange things her cousin felt to say. She loved Helaena, but on those days, the hours went on slowly.

I wish I was at the Dragonpit, she thought. Ysilla wished nothing more than to be with Dārysyr, especially during days that felt so heavy in her heart.

They were back in Helaena’s chamber when the Queen arrived. Ysilla was set next to her cousin, who was very interested in counting the rings of a centipede. They have been there long. And Ysilla decided to take one of the many books that she had in her chamber to keep herself occupied until Helaena was satisfied with her counting. When the Queen entered, Ysilla was ready to stand up and bow, but the woman gestured for her to sit still and keep with her reading.

“This one has sixty rings and two pairs of legs on each, ” Helaena whispered, looking closer at the centipede, “It makes two-hundred-twenty-four.”

“Yes, it is,” the Queen said in a soft tone, even if her expression could not hide her worry. It was difficult to communicate with Helaena when she acted like that. They had to be patient.

“It has eyes,” the girl spoke, looking closely at the creature in her hand.

“Does he?” Ysilla asked, keeping reading her book.

Helaena muttered in agreement, “Though, I don’t believe it can see.” Ysilla looked at her with a confused frown.

“And why is that so, do you think?” Asked the Queen.

“It is beyond our understanding.”

Beyond mine, for sure, Ysilla thought at her cousin’s words. Those were too much of abstract concepts for her mind. She liked history better.

“I suppose you’re right,” the Queen answered. Some things just are.” As she finished speaking, though, the door opened to reveal Aemond. Ysilla put aside her book. Her eyes widened, seeing how dirty his face and clothes were.

“Aemond,” the woman gasped, walking to her son, “What have you done?”

“He did it again.” Ysilla stood up after Helaena’s words. He must have entered the Dragonpit. That place was dangerous for someone without a dragon, and Aemond was the only one of them without one. Dragons bend only to one person, and when they did, they will only listen to their rider. They could become very dangerous for anyone else. But Aemond had always been very fascinated by dragons. The pain in his eyes was always visible when they went to the Dragonpit.

Ysilla could understand him. She had been fascinated, too, before Dārysyr’s egg hatched. Being a Targaryen without a dragon hurt a lot.

“After how many times you’ve been warned,” the Queen reproved him, “Must I have you confined to your chambers?”

“They made me do it!” Aemond argued angrily. Who made him do it? Ysilla moved forward, feeling for her cousin. He truly seemed so upset. What had happened? But the Queen didn’t seem to share Ysilla’s same thoughts.

“As if you needed encouragement,” the woman said, worryingly observing her son to be sure he was not harmed. "Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.” When she spoke like that, the Queen truly reminded Ysilla of her mother's skepticism about dragons.

“They gave me a pig!” Aemond exclaimed. Ysilla’s eyes widened.

“A what?” The Queen asked in confusion.

“They said they found a dragon for me. But it was a pig!” Aemond answered, trembling with anger.

I’ve promised you today would have been fun. Aegon had said to her that morning. He was behind it. Ysilla could not believe it. He knew how Aemond suffered since he was the only one without a dragon. Even Rhaenyra’s sons had one each, but not Aemond, a son of a King. How could he be so stupid to do that to his own brother?

“You will have a dragon one day,” Alicent said trying to calm her son, “I know it.”

Aemond deserved a dragon. It was saddening to know that his egg hadn’t hatched. He had asked Ysilla many times how she did it as they grew up, but she truly wasn't sure how or why. Dārysyr was just born one day. It had been a very normal day. But Aemond’s didn’t, and it was not fair. Why did the Gods play such games?

Aemond lowered his gaze, “They all laughed.”

And why did the Gods make Aegon to be such an idiot?

_____________________________________________________________

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fallingdownhell · 11 months

Note

Inazuma men when you walk in on them in an intimate position with your sister/best friend.

YES, some angsty shit again! Uhhh, I like it when it hurts xD

Characters Included: Ayato; Heizou; Kazuha; Gorou

Content: gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your friend/sister; cheating; hurt/no comfort; angst and drama; you walk in on them; suggestive on some parts; Gorou being manipulated; non-consent on Kazuha's part, but not explicit!!

Word count: 2,4k words

Thank you so much for giving me an angsty request. Have fun reading!

Ayato

He would think so high and mighty of himself

Like, he was sure that he was hiding it pretty damn well and that you would never find out about his little secret

you have been engaged to Ayato for some time now, the wedding due to happen soon

it has been a marriage of convinience, both for him as well as your family, yet you were relieved when you found out you were going to marry Ayato, having had a crush on him for a little over a year now

you thought that over the time he got to know you, he also developed feelings for you, he certainly did tell you so

for a long time, you were blinded by the illusion you so desperately wanted to believe, ignorant to the sad and sympathatic looks Ayato's staff would give you

You excused his long and late hours away from you, telling yourself that he was just catching up on work and that he was alright

You only started to get somewhat suspicious when you noticed one of your friends visiting the Kamisato estate rather frequently, but only ever staying for a short period of time, while she never even talked to you when here

still, you gave them both the benefit of the doubt, thinking that they might just be working on something together

Thoma, however, knew what was going on behind your back. He wanted to tell you on so many different occaisions, yet he had to think of his own job as well and how his actions could put himself at risk, as well. So, he never said a single word to you, keeping you oblivious

until one day, it was late at night again and Ayato told you he would be working late again

you nodded and let him get back to his work, but later decided to surprise him with some snacks and refreshments you wanted to bring him

you were feeling kind of giddy when you approached his office door with the tray in your hands, as you noticed weird sounds coming from behind the doors

you didn't want to believe your ears, this couldn't be happening.. not your Ayato..

so you pushed open the door slightly, enough for you to peek into the room, only to have your world crushed in front of your eyes, along with all your hopes and dreams for the future

your ears did not decieve you, Ayato was, in fact, cheating on you this very moment with the person you thought to be one of your best friends

what's even worse was that he noticed you, standing by the door, having caught them in the act

and all he did, was smirk at you as he leaned down and bit into the other womans neck to which she let out a loud moan

shocked, the tray slipped out of your hands as you turned on your heels and started running down the halls, tears streaming down your face

you passed Thoma on the way to your room who shot you another sympathetic look.

He knew it... he was in on it..

now it finally dawned on you, and it all made sense.. why everyone was always looking at you like this.. they were all in on it.. you were the only one who wasn't aware..

still crying, you grabbed a bag and took some of your most important belongings as well as some clothes, before you left this estate you once hoped you could call your home

seems like some things just weren't meant to work out in life...

Heizou

he wouldn't want to do it, but he would if he could get some kind of benefit from it

Heizou has always been a very flirty personality, even while in a relationship with you. It caused arguments on more than one occaision

he would always tell you that he would stop doing it.. that promise would sometimes last for a week, often times shorter than that, before he got right back to his usual behaviour

the worst part was, that he saw nothing wrong with this type of behaviour

as long as it got him the results he desired, he didn't care for the method he had to use

it was cruel in a way, but he didn't want to acknowledge that he could do wrong as well

when this particular incident occured was when he finally realized how wrong his attitude had been

he had been stumped on a particular case for a few days now, no new leads showing up and the trail was starting to get cold

it frustrated him beyond anything else and to top it off, he was currently engaged in yet another heated argument with you

you were ticked off by the way he was shamelessly flirting with a shopkeeper, right in front of you while on a date

he tried to explain that he just tried to get some clues out of her, but you didn't seem to want to hear it

after some more yelling, you left the house to catch some fresh air and cool off, while Heizou stayed back

he sat in front of his files again, trying to make sense of all the clues when someone knocked on the front door

he recognised your sister there and while he planned on sending her away at first, she made him an offer he just couldn't turn down so easily

spending one night with her in exchange for the missing clues he needed to solve this case

he didn't think long before agreeing to this deal

she entered the house and it didn't take long before things got heated and they both landed on the bed he normally shared with you

it didn't really feel right to do this, but he was doing it for the greater good. He's sure you would understand that

while they were in the middle of things, with her being on top, riding him, he suddenly heard the front door open and a sharp inhale being taken

he whipped his head around, seeing you standing there, looking shocked and hurt

immediately after that, you turned and ran out the door again, he saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. He wanted to get up and run after you, but.... he couldn't. He had to keep up his part of the deal. He could always talk to you the next day

when he sought you out the next day, you were refusing to speak to him.. and the day after... as well as the day after that

he was getting frustrated, missing holding you in his arms. He grew irritated without you around..

the next day, he saw you in the streets of Inazuma City, so he walked up to you

However, once he reached you, he was met with a slap in the face. It stung, and he looked at you in surprise

tears welled up in your eyes again as you turned and tried to leave again, but he quickly snatched your wrist, trying to explain his reasons to you

you stayed and listened, but your expression was hard and ice cold the entire time

"I hope it was worth it in the end, because you lost me for good now"

that was the last thing you ever said to him again before you left his life for good

and finally, Heizou understood what he had been doing wrong this entire time... and he regretted his decisions like nothing else in his life...

Kazuha

now for Kazuha... he is a very honest and loyal soul

you never would have thought that you had to worry about anything like that with him, already having bad experiences from a previous relationship

Kazuha always made time for you, made you feel loved and appreciated, always told you how much he loved and adored you, whishing you would stay with him forever

you honestly felt the same way about him, already imagining a future together with him

but... we all know how easily Kazuha can get drunk.. and just how drunk he gets from so few drinks..

you were going out with some of your friends to party a bit, and you decided to invite your boyfriend along

he didn't mind it, deciding not to drink anything so he could keep an eye on you and make sure you're safe throughout the entire night

it went well in the beginning. You were moderately drinking with your friends while he was sipping on whatever non-alcoholic beverage he ordered for himself

he always kept an eye on you, but at some point of the night, he lost sight of you

while walking around the vicinity, looking around trying to find you, he ran into one of your friends, who was obviously pretty drunk at this point

she clung onto Kazuha, staying close to him, slowing him down immensely

at some point, she offered him a drink. He refused at first, but she kept insisting, promising that it would be non-alcoholic

being the sweetheart that Kazuha is, he gave in after some time, only to realize too late that she had been lying, it was very much an alcoholic drink

but it was too late already, she forced him to down the glass and then another one right after, getting him drunk

in this state, he didn't have control over his mind or his actions, he just went along with whatever she said to him

so what if she suggested to go into an isolated corner so that they could have some "fun"

in his inebriated state, he didn't realize that the person he was doing it with, wasn't you

only when he heard a gasp and saw you standing there a few feet away from him did he regain some of his consciousness back

he saw the tears forming in your eyes and he tried to run after you, but even in your own drunken state, you were faster than him, he couldn't catch up to you

the next day, he woke up again with a severe headache but still perfect memory from the events of that night

he immediately set out to look for you, finding you rather quickly

you had dark circles under your eyes and they were red and swollen from all the crying

he apologized to you over and over, telling you what had happened. He hated himself for letting this happen to him, yet he was still more worried over you

it is up to you if you want to forgive him or not, he will accept whatever decision you make. Just know that he is so, so sorry and if you choose to give him a second chance, he will make sure that nothing like that will ever happen again..

Gorou

oh, poor little Gorou..

he is soo easy to manipulate.. people can tell him everything they want, and he is prone to believe them until proven wrong

he loves you dearly, with all his heart, but he often doubts himself, fearing that he's not good enough for you

so, when someone else comes along, planting even the faintest bit of doubt in his mind about your relationship, he grows restless and insecure

you, having already a strained relationship with your family, especially with your younger sister, spent most of your free time with Gorou, so normally, there wouldn't be anything for him to worry about, right?

Well, the thing is.. your sister has always had a thing for Gorou, even before you two got together. She neve told you about it, but ever since you made the relationship official, she hated you for it

she wanted Gorou all to herself, yet you were standing in the way of that goal. She had to get rid of you somehow..

the first few months of the relationship went by great, you were both so in love with each other

yet, after that, your sister started to visit Gorou whenever you weren't around him. You could be at work or out doing something.. she would be there visiting him, leaving again before you returned again

at first, it was just normal visits. She would simply talk to Gorou, asking him how his day went, getting to know him better. Though she asked to keep this meet-ups a secret from you, since she claimed she wanted to reconnect with you on your terms alone

Gorou, being non the wiser, agreed to that

this went on for a while until she started to plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Spreading rumors to him how you were meeting up with some other guy, how the meet-ups became more frequent, that you were probably cheating on him, and so on

Gorou didn't want to believe her, choosing to trust you. But, being so gullible, he started to see things that weren't actually there. He imagined you coming home later than usual, thinking you were avoiding his gaze

he didn't want to admit it, but with every further visit from your sister, he believed her more and more, now doubting everything about your relationship with him. Did you ever even love him?

the final part of her plan came, when she convinced him to sleep with her to "get you back for cheating on him first"

it felt wrong to him, but he still went along with the idea. At some point, he did get into it, not noticing how you came back earlier than usual, flowers in your hand..

those flowers immediately dropped to the ground as you realized what you just walked in on..

and in that moment did he remember.. today was your anniversary.. 6 months togehter...

he immediately ripped himself off your sister, calling out your name, but you were already out the door. He quickly threw some clothes over himself to run after you, but your sister caught his wrist, begging him to stay

he paid her no mind and ran after you, yet he wasn't able to find you, no matter where or how hard he looked..

defeated, he returned to his place, curling in on himself.. tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he's gonna find you and talk to you..

however, the next day, he found out that you had left Watatsumi Island.. you went and found Kazuha, leaving Inazuma with him on the Alchor..

you were out of his reach, forever now, and it was all his fault.. he had no one else to blame but himself for his stupid actions.. he lost the best thing that ever came into his life, and he would never get you back...

1K notes · View notes

gucciwins · 8 months

Note

hi angie :) i was wondering whether you could write a little blurb based off an idea i’ve had recently? so harry and (yn) are a new couple and every time they go out (yn) is super conscious of how she acts and what she’s wearing/doing because they’re in public and harry just wants to calm her down :(( i feel like new boyfriendrry would be so gentle and kind :(

hope you enjoy this 2k blurb, sweets 🤍

Y/N really liked Harry.

He was funny, charming, and intelligent. Harry loved discussing the books she was reading and, to her surprise, would go on to purchase them so he could also share his thoughts with her. They were introduced by a mutual friend, stating they would get on well because of their love for poetry. Y/N wasn’t one for meeting new people–let alone being set up but Dezzie promised she wouldn’t regret it. Harry was told he’d be meeting his perfect match, and Dezzie was not wrong. Y/N had been someone straight out of a storybook with her perfect hair and a laugh that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. Harry was absolutely smitten.

They started with one date that turned into three, and soon enough, Y/N and Harry were talking every day, trying their best to work their schedule to fit each other in. One time a week was not enough for either of them. With more dates, there was more time together, and before they knew it had been a month of dating.

It’s not been three months since they met, and they’ve never been happier. Harry feels secure and loved in his relationship. He knows Y/N protects him as he does her. Y/N came in with her heart guarded high, but Harry crumbled her walls too quickly, and she knew she had no chance against him, so she let herself go into this relationship with an open mind and heart. Y/N knew that while Harry shielded their relationship, it wasn’t impossible to stop random fans from taking photos even when Harry asked them not to or to be trailed by paparazzi on a date night. Harry did his best to protect her, and Y/N knew he was doing everything he could. Being a new couple and someone no one knew about, it’s as if everyone was trying to find the skeletons in her closet. They were all waiting for her downfall.

Harry had promised her it would die down, but it seemed overnight there were articles of her everywhere, from the shops to every social media outlet. Y/N didn’t actively look for them. She knew it wasn’t good for her, and family members would send them her way. Old high school friends who still had her number began asking to hang out with her. Her parents sent her the articles because a nosy neighbor would text them. It’s as if no one was watching out for her.

She felt it was her against thousands and felt herself beginning to lose.

Y/N had a bad day, and all she wanted to do was wallow in bed, though she had already planned a date night with Harry. She would hate to cancel on him, so Y/N dragged herself to shower and got ready. While Y/N loved dressing up, the article she got sent today was about how outdated her style was and that it all looked well-loved–which meant worn out. Y/N made a decent income enough to keep a roof over her head and indulge in gifts occasionally, but she was conscious about the clothes she bought. Y/N didn’t support fast fashion; instead, she loved trading clothes with her friends or spending a day at the thrift shops with her grandmother, who always loved a good bargain. Today, all her clothing did not feel good enough, and she decided that her well-loved oversized leather jacket and black flares would do. A simple black top underneath when she got too hot in the restaurant. Y/N was lost in her head that she didn’t hear her doorbell. She broke out of her trance when her phone rang. It was him asking if everything was alright.

It would be now.

Time with Harry always healed Y/N because she knew he was worth it. It was still early days nearing the three months of dating, but Y/N knew she saw a long future with Harry. She opened the door and found him with a bouquet of bluebells. Her absolute favorite, she thanked him with a kiss and told him she’d only be a second.

The drive to their favorite restaurant was quick, the chatter about their day making time go even quicker. Y/N always loved hearing what Harry was up to because their lives were very different. Y/N worked in the publishing industry, where she edited manuscripts daily in an environment she enjoyed while Harry was world-known. He was working on his next album, and with no future tour insight, he was available to spend more time with her. Y/N’s family, specifically her older sister, would ask why Harry doesn’t post her online because, quoting Heather, “if he doesn’t post you, he clearly must not like you.” Y/N would defend Harry to her dying breath. Most of her family didn’t realize how much Harry deserved privacy. Yes, he’s a public figure, but doesn’t owe anyone anything. Harry had told her he would if she wanted him to; honestly, Y/N was fine living in their own world with Harry’s closest friends knowing.

Everything was usually good, with Y/N being in public. She’d order her favorite food, sometimes a burger or pasta. It always filled her up, and she’d take the leftovers for lunch the next day. Y/N never thought anything of it, not even when she was with Harry, but fans of Harry began to take photos of them in restaurants. They criticized her meal choices, how she held her fork and even her posture. It’s as if everything she did was something to laugh at her for. Y/N wasn’t the most confident person growing up, but she learned about self-care and respecting herself over time. Y/N grew to explore her fashion sense, began to speak her mind, and saw life with a brighter outlook. It wasn’t until she had what felt like a million eyes on her that she began questioning her every move. Suddenly, everyone had become someone to be wary of, and she hated thinking like that.

Their waiter greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table. Y/N frowned because their usual waitress, Karla, was out tonight. Harry squeezed her hand in assurance, and Y/N knew it would be fine.

“Uhh–I’ll do an iced water,” she smiled timidly at the waiter, not wanting to order alcohol or soda.

Harry looked at her confused but didn’t question it. When they returned to take their order, Y/N ordered a Caesar salad, stating she had a late lunch at work. Harry ordered her favorite pesto pasta and a plate of tilapia for him. Harry began worrying because he noticed she kept looking around and was fidgety with her hands. She kept slipping the ring she wore on her pinky that Y/N got gifted for her fifteenth birthday on and off. It’s a sign she’s nervous. He hadn’t seen her do that with him since their first date; she excused herself to the restroom before he could ask her.

He sits back in his chair confused, until he sees a quick flash in the corner of his eye.

A camera.

It would be minutes before that made its way online. Harry waved down his waiter, asking him to make their food to-go as quickly as possible. Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, needing to check on Y/N.

“Y/N,” he knocks on the door. He hears the sink, but no reply. Harry tries the next one. “Y/N, sweetheart. It’s me.” The lock of the door turns, and she lets him in. He finds her eyes red, but her mascara looks intact, almost as if she had reapplied it. Harry feels defeated. He knows this hurt is his fault, even if partially. “Oh, my love. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, brushing off his words, “what are you on about?”

Harry places his hands on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, trying to comfort them both. “Baby,” he sighs. “Don’t have to pretend with me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you can’t do that if you’re not honest.”

Those words are enough to break her open. Y/N sets forward and falls into his arms. She forgets everything outside, all those people looking at her and judging her because she knew she’d be safe here with Harry. “It’s been a hard day,” she whispers.

“That’s okay,” he assures her. “We’ll go home. Make you a cuppa and eat dinner in bed.”

“But the crumbs,” she mumbles, remembering his dumb rule.

“Fuck it. It was a stupid rule.”

Y/N giggles, and it lightens the tightness in his chest. She’s calming down and feeling better. “I only got a salad,” she pouts.

“Got the pesto for you, silly girl.”

Her eyes lighten up, “you’re perfect, Harry Styles.”

“Only for you.”

Harry gently kisses her lips, knowing she’s still sensitive. Y/N surprises him by replying eagerly, but he slows her down with a slight nip of her bottom lip, and she moans. A simple kiss wasn’t supposed to get this heated. He pulls away and sees her pout on full display instead of giving in like he usually would; he pecks her lips and guides her out of the restroom after slipping her bag on his shoulder.

“My bag looks good on you,” Y/N teases quietly.

Harry smiles at her, “yeah, think I should model for Baggu?”

“Only if they let me take the pictures.”

“No work would get done with your pretty face.”

“What’s that mean?” She looks at him with a sly smile, already knowing his response.

“That you are a pretty distraction.”

Before she can respond, Y/N realizes they’ve made it to the hostess stand, where their food awaits them all packed up. Harry slips out two hundred dollar bills and passes them forward. “Have a good night.” Harry walks them to the car, and she’s thankful no one is outside. He opens the door for her and lets her slip in. Harry sets her bag on her lap and reaches around her to buckle in her seatbelt. Y/N softens at his actions because he’s always been gentle and careful with her from the moment she met him. It’s never changed.

“Harry,” she calls for his name softly.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” she tells him honestly.

“Nothing to thank.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. Then, he puts away their food and drives them to his house. Y/N turns in her seat to look at him. He sends her a wink at a red light but keeps his eyes on the road. Y/N rests her hand on top of his, resting on the clutch. Harry feels the butterflies return, and Y/N’s touch makes him feel grounded.

Harry knows what he feels for Y/N is not something he’s ever felt before, which makes him want to protect her even more. His feelings are growing, and it’s why he knows what Y/N is growing through is something they have to deal with together, or he might end up losing her. At the end of the day, he will do whatever is best for her. Even if it means Harry not being in her life anymore.

He ushers her inside from the clothes, telling her to get comfortable while he gets dinner sorted out, but she tugs on his hand to stop him.

“Y-y-ou don’t want to talk?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You sure?”

Y/N knows she needs to stop keeping everything tucked inside. She wants to share how she’s feeling because if anyone would understand, it would be Harry. They walk over to the couch and sit next to each other. If Y/N moved another inch, she’d be in his lap. Y/N can see Harry is itching to pull her into him but is holding back. She appreciates it and does the next best thing: hold his hand tight.

“Being in the eye of the public is something I’m sure no one can prepare for, but right now, it’s all gotten too much. I don’t go online anymore because there always seem to be new photos of me. My phone constantly blows up with texts from people I stopped talking to after secondary school. My family sends me photos of every headline, asking me if they’re true,” Y/N blurts it all out. Harry listens intently as she shares how she only feels comfortable around him and her three friends from university. That support keeps her going, but he knows it will only break her down if she continues to listen to everything around her.

Harry pulls her into his arms, letting himself comfort her, but he knows it’s also for himself. He repeatedly kisses her temple as he whispers he’s got her. “Sometimes even the people we love hurt it. It’s okay to take a step back from them.”

“But they’re my family,” she defends. “I can’t.”

Harry knows it’s hard, but he needs her to understand she’s hurting more because of it. “Listen, sweetheart. We can talk to them together and set boundaries, but what they’re doing is hurting you. I-I can’t take that.”

“What do I change?”

“Nothing, you live normally. You can keep everything online private if you want. You’re allowed to live your life. Not a single person has a say in it. Not even me,” he emphasizes. “Your phone number would be good, though.”

“Was thinking of that,” she confesses. “Do you think the media will die down?”

Harry grins, “Of course. We're such homebodies. They’ll forget we even exist.” He kisses her nose. “Together. We’ll do this together if you want?”

Y/N wants Harry in her life. She never once thought of letting him go. “Together.”

“Good, now give me a kiss.” He pats her ass. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to pick.”

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