#sorry there's not a break for this it will not let me add one
Text
Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 8
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, voyerism, coercive sex, manipulation, Pocket reaching her Ultimate Bitch Form.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Carthage has been spying on you and manipulating both you and Bucky from Day One.
A/N: THE FIRST TIME DIDN'T COUNT, GUYS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
“She was just toying with you, Jamie, because she could. She doesn’t respect you. Do you honestly think she would pick you over Steve Rogers? Captain Fucking America? Especially with all the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve ended? Come on, Jamie, don’t be dumb.” Video Jade caressed Bucky’s shoulders.
Bucky’s face fell, and you knew she’d hit him where it hurt him the most.
Jade sat back on her haunches on the mattress. “Don’t be stupid, Jamie,” she reiterated. “Do you really think she’d want someone like you, who can’t even control their cock in a fight, when she could have America’s Golden Dick? I bet they laugh at you, how easy it is for them to get away with it, right under your nose. You think it’s just a coincidence that, as soon as you're out of the country, she’s seen by all of New York’s elite getting cozy with your best friend? The one person you asked her to stay away from? She was just waiting for you to get out of the picture so she can show her real boyfriend off to the public.”
You watched as Bucky’s entire body clenched, his face tightening in anger. “You said you wanted to get back at her,” Jade urged, putting her hands back on Bucky’s body. “To punish her for what she did. So punish her, Jamie. Use me. Use me to make her hurt the way she made you hurt. Don’t let her play you for a fool.” You saw Bucky struggle, at war with himself, but you could see the anger pulse through him, and you knew that, with this snake whispering in his ear, there was no way he could have come to any other conclusion than that you had betrayed him. You almost felt sorry for him– he didn’t have a chance.
“Come on,” she said, leaning Bucky back so he was lying propped up on the pillows. “You won’t even need to do anything. Let me take care of you, okay? Let Vixen make you feel good.” Bucky scrunched his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face. It was painfully clear he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant, but it still hurt knowing that he had been so angry at you for something you hadn’t done that he was willing to do this.
“We just have to get Little Jamie to come out to play,” Jade teased as she straddled him. Your view was obstructed by her body, but you had no doubt that she was jerking him off in an attempt to get him hard.
It just… seemed to be taking a really long time.
“Come on Jamie,” Jade said after a few minutes. “You gotta help me out here. Give me a little something to work with.”
It seemed to finally work after a while, and Jade re-positioned herself as she lined Bucky up with her entrance. You couldn’t watch anymore, so you shut your eyes. It didn’t stop you from hearing the horrible sounds of her moaning as she bounced up and down on his cock, though.
You thought you were going to be sick, but then you heard it, so soft that if you had your eyes open, your senses diluted, you would have missed it.
“Pocket,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Pocket. Keep going, baby. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much.”
His moans grew louder. “Pocket,” he cried, “God, baby, I miss you so fucking much!”
You started laughing. It was the fucking weirdest, most uncomfortable position you’d ever found yourself in in your entire life, but you couldn’t help yourself.
“Oh my god,” you panted, trying to catch your breath as Jade looked down on you in confusion. “That’s the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!”
Jade wrapped a hand roughly around your throat and squeezed threateningly, cutting off your laughter. “What did you say?” she seethed.
You coughed when she’d released your neck and you could breathe again. A few drops of your blood had fallen from your nose to rest on Jade’s wrist. “I said, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” You jutted your chin toward the phone she still held. “You think that’s proof that he wants you? Oh, honey. You truly are a stupid cunt, aren’t you? He couldn’t even get hard for you without thinking about me. You were a convenient fleshlight– just a hole when I wasn’t available.”
You would have felt monstrous speaking to any other woman like that, truly, but you had to do everything in your power to keep her distracted, to keep her from moving forward with her plan to auction you off to the highest bidder, so that you could buy some time for the calvary to arrive. And besides, Carthage wasn’t just another woman– she was your fucking nemesis, and she deserved every foul word you could throw at her.
God, you hoped Tony showed up first. The image of him sending Jade through the wall with a repulsor blast was enough to send you into fits of giddy laughter. Then maybe Bruce could toss her around like a ragdoll, the way he had with Loki. You’d pay to see that. You wondered if Carthage had headbutted you hard enough to cause a concussion– you certainly weren’t feeling fully in your right mind.
Jade backhanded you, the force of the blow so hard that your head snapped to the side, leaving you seeing stars. “You’re LYING!” she shouted. Grabbing you by the hair, she hoisted you up, metal chair and all, and slammed your face into the nearest wall. Perhaps she’d rattled a screw loose, because you couldn’t seem to get your laughter under control.
“Don’t damage the merchandise, Vixey,” you coughed, spitting out even more blood. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances at auction, would you? Bad for business.”
“You fucking bitch!” Jade shouted. She ripped your bindings free from the chair and lifted you up by the throat. “Fuck–” she punched you in the stomach– “the auction!” In the face. “I’m gonna–” In the solar plexus– “fucking kill you–” back to the face– “myself!” Each blow was excruciating, and you were sure you’d heard a rib or two crack under the force of her fist, but still, you kept laughing at her.
“Poor little fox,” you wheezed through the blood that was pouring down the back of your throat. “All those years wasted, thinking you could ever have a chance with him.” Your head lolled to the side as you tried to look up at her through your rapidly swelling eyelids. “Thinking you were special, that you were made for him, and you can’t even get his dick up. He’s so repulsed by you, he has to imagine being with someone else!”
“Shut up!” Jade screeched. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She grabbed your left arm in her hands and snapped it. The pain was blinding, sending your vision into a white hot pulses. You screamed, holding the broken appendage to your body, as though that would protect you. You didn’t dare look down at it; knowing you’d be sick at the sight if you did, of your arm dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle. Instead, you curled yourself up into the fetal position, cradling your arm close to your core.
Jade began pacing the room, tugging at her hair and mumbling to herself. You couldn’t quite make out what she was saying– you only caught snippets of words, like “fucking whore,” and “mine.” The girl had completely lost it, had completely gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, you suspected you were going into shock as you listened to the rat-a-tat-tat of your rapid heartbeat.
No. You cocked your head, listening. That wasn’t the sound of your heart, beating out of your chest– that was the sound of gunfire echoing through the bowels of the base. You strained your ears. Mixed within the gunshots, you could hear screaming, voices crying out in agony and then cut short, as if their owners suddenly lost access to their breath.
Through the distant din, you could make out a familiar voice, roaring with rage, and the sound filled your heart up like a balloon.
“POCKET!”
You started laughing again.
Jade turned to look at you, her expression furious.
“I feel sorry for you, Vixen,” you said, grinning like a madwoman.
“Me?” she asked you incredulously. “I just snapped your arm like a fucking twig and am going to enjoy the shit out of killing you nice and slowly, and you feel sorry for me?”
You nodded vigorously, gleefully noting that the sound of battle was growing closer. Bucky called for you again, his voice contorted with rage and worry. Jade turned her head toward the sound, noticing it for the first time.
“Yup,” you agreed, forcing yourself to stand and face her. You could feel the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you smiled from ear to ear. “Seems like my boyfriend’s looking for me, and when he sees what you’ve done, he’s going to kick your fucking ass.”
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 1
A/ N:I’m horrible at exposition so bare with me through this one. It feels a little clunky to me but this sets up a lot for the rest of the series. This is also the longest thing I’ve written outside of my senior thesis so… I have this series fully planned out and now that I’m back from vacation I should be able to work on it a lot more.
Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for it!
Warnings: Spring court slander (implied trauma), nightmares. Drinking. I think that’s all but feel free to let me know if I should add anything!
Wc- ~10k
Previous part: here
We’re coming home.
I ran up to my brother. Desperately pulling on Rhys’ arm and I felt him stumble back into me. He remained frozen, eyes locked on the female in front of him. Her and Rhys were clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. But I wanted to go home. When I shouted Rhys’ name, his head flickered to me before looking back at Feyre. I saw his body tense, eyes going wide and it was instinct that had me grabbing his arm and winnowing us to Velaris.
The smell instantly calms me in a way I haven't felt in fifty years. Once my vision had fully focused,
“She’s my mate”, nothing above a whisper. My head snapped over to him. Mate. That explained his reaction. I felt the guilt in my stomach at pulling him away from Feyre. My arms are already reaching to pull Rhys towards me into a hug. As my arms wrapped around him, he sobbed into my shoulder.
This wasn’t the Rhys I had come to know under the mountain. Sob after sob left his mouth and his precious wings dropped to the ground. I knew this was more than the reaction of a male who had his mate taken from him. This was my brother who had to watch his mate be in love with someone else after years of suffering. The cauldron had finally granted him a mate only to have her ripped away from him.
“I’m sorry” was all I could think to say. So many reasons for being sorry. Sorry for all he went through. Sorry for not being strong enough to stop it. Sorry that the female the mother had chosen for him was in love with the High Lord of Spring, and had willingly died for him. Sorry that I stole away what little time he had spent with her.
Rhys let out another sob against my shoulder and it shook me to my core. I have heard him cry over Amarantha many times but seeing him break over Feyre was enough for me to want to march to spring and drag her to Velaris. But she wouldn’t want that. I know Rhys would have my head on a spike if I even offered.
We both turned around at the sound of the door opening. Mor stood in silence, eyes scanning over us. Noticing our embrace. She stepped up to us and a soft smile crossed her face.
“Tell me about your mate, Rhys.”
That was all it took for the flood gates to open. We did more than recall the details about the last few months. Rhys and I cherry picking only the most vital and important details. We kept a few things close to our chests. Those would stay our nightmares alone, Mor didn’t need to be haunted with our ghosts as well.
Mor sat patiently before she finally interrupted. “She’s really dead?” Rhy freezed at the mention of Amarantha. I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and answered for him. “Yes. But I don’t think this is over.” Mor just nodded sharply, looking at I both before she launched herself at both of I, arms coming up to wrap around my brother and myself.
“If either of you ever do something that stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice didn’t hold any malice, instead it shook with tears. My heart jumped as I left the weight of her emotions wash over me. The pain in my chest tightened as I realized how much our absence has truly shaken our family. I knew, of course, but seeing it was entirely different.
The three of us began to settle and I finally had time to get my bearings in the house. As I let the glow of the house wrap around I. A familiar scent caught my attention, and my whole body sang. My head whipped around, looking for the source of that pine and night air, looking for Azriel. Cas too of course but Azriel was on the front of my mind.
Mor’s smile tilted slightly. “They should be back soon.” She sighed “They just went to the camps to check on all of them” She paused, stumbling over words “ when we got that message from you, someone thought the most important thing was letting the camp leaders know that they had a high lord to answer to again.” This didn’t surprise me at all. Of course they would want, need, to fill in the Illyrian warriors that were now back under Rhys command with his return, Cassian having to take over that helm by nature of his position. It would be a fight, but one for a different day.
I wanted nothing more than to see the rest of my family and responsibilities be damned. I wanted to see them now. It had already been almost 50 years and in theory another day wouldn’t hurt but the house felt empty without the loudness of Cassian’s voice booming. It felt cold without Azriel’s shadows stirring around.
As if Mor could sense my unease, she lightly grabbed my wrist and started pulling me deeper into the house. “I have so many books I need to show you.” That was all it took for me to laugh. Mind reeling as I tried to remember the last time I had truly laughed.
The library was just as I had remembered it. The smell of old parchment and leather filled the space. Fires kept the room warm and light and I wanted that feeling to sink down into my bones.
Mor gave me the space to just absorb my favorite room in the house. Rhys had given me full reign over how it was decorated. Comfy chairs that could accommodate wings and backless chairs tufted with fabric that looked like they were made of stardust were spread over the large room. The heavy wooden desk I had put in was covered in stacks of books.
“I put all the ones I knew you would like over there.” Mor spoke up when she saw my eyes lock on the countless books. I felt my throat tighten up with tears at the thought she must have put behind the seemingly small action. It wasn’t uncommon for Mor and I to swap books as we finished them. Mostly so we could sit and talk about them for hours together. Mor and I spent many nights on the couches I had put in, falling asleep with our respective books still clutched in our hands.
Looking at the stacks, a rough count told me there had to be over a hundred books, easily.
“Looks like I have some serious reading to do.” I laughed. She beamed a smile at me.
“Those are just the ones I knew you would like,” She walked over to one of the bookcases in front of the desk. “These are all the others that I need you to read so I can scream about them.”
Three whole shelves in total. It would take me gods know how long to get through them. I voiced that much. Mor waved me off.
“You have all the time in the world to read them. It doesn’t have to happen all at once, but I’m not letting anything happen to you again. You’ll have time to read them all.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. I turned to look at her and I saw the pink speckling her cheeks and right above her lips, the tell-tale signs that she was trying not to cry. I placed the book I had just picked up and threw my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as I possibly could. She nuzzled her head against my shoulder and all I could do was try to hold her tighter.
By the time we pulled away from the hug, we were both a crying, giggling mess. I forgot how much I loved spending time with Mor. Regardless of how much I cared for my brothers, Mor and I were two sides of the same coin. Plus the boys wouldn’t sit and discuss the pure filth that tended to grace the pages of the books I devoured.
“So, what one should I start with?”
She all but squealed as she started flipping through the piles with me. We organized as we went. Placing them in piles of order that I should read them in. A few of the series I had been following had new installments that would most likely require a reread so those got placed on the back burner for the, now older, favorites she was dying to talk about. From there we were able to pick out one of her more recent favorites that had me itching to crack open immediately. She picked out one from her own pile across the room and the both of us settled into silence, the only sound was the fireplace cracking and pages turning.
I don’t know how late it was when Rhys softly opened the door to sneak into the room. My eyes were starting to get dry from how little I was blinking, desperate to get through one more chapter before I called it a night. Something I had voiced to Mor about ten chapters ago. Mor who now was asleep on her own couch, her hair pooling over the edge almost touching the floor from the uncomfortable angel her head had fallen into.
“The books will still be here after you’ve gotten some sleep,” Rhys said in a gentle mocking tone. Mor stirred slightly at his voice but remained sleeping. “Come on, I’d be an awful High Lord, and an even worse brother, if I let you fall asleep in the library on your first night home.” I nodded at his words. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where I slept but for some reason, I could tell it mattered to Rhys. It would honestly be more normal for me to fall asleep anywhere but my room. Whether it be in the library or the large sectional in the living room or the comfy chairs on the rooftop, I rarely ever slept in my own bed. Rhys had ensured that every surface of the house was as comfortable as possible to account for this but I didn’t push or argue with him as I untucked my legs from underneath me and stood up. I debated leaving Mor to sleep but didn’t want her to wake up all alone. Reaching out a hand, I placed it on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. She groaned but opened her eyes anyway.
“We’re being banished to our rooms.” I joked and pointed over the Rhys. She let out an even louder groan.
“Overprotective bat.” Even Rhys laughed at her words.
“Come on, before he carries us himself.” I held out a hand and I could see Mor contemplating just rolling back over and going back to sleep but she grabbed my hand. Pulling slightly, I helped her to her feet and she rolled her neck slowly. No doubt trying to work out whatever kink was starting to develop due to half of her head hanging off the thin couch. The three of us walked down the hallway to our rooms. Sleepily stumbling to doors. We reached Mor’s first and before she slipped in, she gave me another tiny hug and another to Rhys.
“I love you guys,” Sleep was evident in the way she almost drunkenly stumbled over her words. I returned the sentiment and she was slipping into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.
Rhys and I stood outside her bedroom for a little longer, until we saw the light from under the door flicker out. Eventually, we continued walking until we got to my door. There was a slight pause as I turned the handle. Rhys and I would normally be curled up in my bed under the mountain by now. I vaguely thought about asking him to stay the night. Not that I think either of us were truly going to be able to sleep. As tired as I felt, I was afraid that if I closed my eyes for too long I was going to wake up and this was all going to be a cruel dream.
Rhys seemed to pick up on my hesitancy. “I can walk in with you. If you’re…”:
“Please.” I interrupted him. He gave me a soft smile and gestured for me to open the door.
Nothing was out of place. The room smelt like my favorite perfume and when I looked around, there was no dust to be found. Someone had spent the time still cleaning the room while I was gone. I don’t know why that touched me as much as it did but as I looked around I felt all the unshed tears finally starting to take its toll. A sob ripped its way from my chest and Rhys’ arms were around me in an instant.
He shushed me softly, rocking me slightly. “We made it. We’re free. We’re back home.” He repeated over and over until I had cried myself out. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the stray tears. Shaking my head at my outburst I muttered a thank you to my brother.
“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be just across the hall if you need anything,” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile as he walked out of the room.
I wandered over to my dresser, fished around until I pulled out the first pair of pajamas I came across. I hastily pulled my clothes off and as I went to pull the nightgown over my head, I realized the layer of grim that was clinging to my skin. A bath was definitely needed before I climbed into my warm bed.
The tub was already full and scalding hot by the time I had finished pouring in an obscene amount of oils and bath salts. Sinking in, I sighed out in relief as the heat enveloped me. Muscles in my neck and back released as I leaned my head against the edge of the tub. I picked up the sponge on the edge and started to wash myself off. After countless minutes of scrubbing, despite my raw skin I still didn’t feel clean. Huffing, I threw the sponge across the bathroom and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat curled up around myself until the water started to cool down. And it was still another handful of minutes before I could manage to pull myself upright and step out of the bath. I shivered at the temperature difference. Hugging my towel closer to my body, I quickly ran bacon into my room and threw the nightgown over my head. I burrowed underneath my comforter and tried to close my eyes.
I tossed and turned until I started pleading with the mother, the cauldron, anyone that would listen to let me go to sleep. I was bone tired but everytime I closed my eyes something made me snap them open a few moments later. Every creek of the house had my ears prickling. Has the house always been this loud? I wondered how I never noticed it before. How I ever slept with all the noise. It was then I remembered that, if my room truly haven't been messed with since I had left, that I still had a sleeping tonic from when I had cracked a few ribs. Fae healing or not, ribs always were a pain to heal. Majda had given me a tonic to make me sleep so I could actually heal without Cassian making me laugh them out of place. I flung myself out of bed and padded over to my vanity. The small bottle of purple liquid still sat , half drank/ Uncorking it, I prayed that sleeping potions didn’t go bad and took a tentative sip. Fighting back a gag at the foul taste, I put the cork back on the top and walked back to my bed. The medicine had its desired effect. Not a minute later I felt my eyelids flutter close and this time they stayed closed until I could sense the sun high in the air signaling the next day had come.
Knocking on my door made me finally crawl out of bed. Goraning at having to leave the warmth, I flung open the door and was staring a slightly startled Rhys in the face. He held a small tray in front of him, stacked high with various foods.
“I didn’t want to wake you up. You slept through breakfast and lunch and I didn’t know what you would want so I brought a little of everything.” He spoke the words so fast that in my half awake state I struggled to keep up with them. I gestured for him to come in so he could place the tray on my bed.
“Have you eaten?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I picked up a large strawberry.. His look told me that he had, in fact, not eaten. I pointed to my bed. “Sit and eat.” I barked, mouth full of strawberries. He laughed at some silent joke and picked up a piece of toast covered in some fruit jam. We were quiet as we ate, picking apart the platter he had brought in. Truly too much for one person to eat. Once we were both full, I wiped off my hands on my comforter and finished swallowing my last bite before I asked Rhys. “What do you have on the agenda for today?” He stilled and picked at a piece of lint on his sweater.
“Not a lot. I’m trying to organize a meeting with the High Lords of the other courts to just debrief after everything.” He shrugged like that wasn’t going to be the hardest meeting to organize. “There are some young high lords and with all the aftermath of this…We just need to all talk this out.” I nodded along with him. The courts would need some time to bounce back after this but from the way things had seemed under the mountain, we didn’t have that time. As much as I prayed to be wrong about this, war was on the horizon and we would need to have the courts functioning as much as possible if we were going to stand a chance against Hyberns forces. Amarantha was just a taste of the power that he had, an experiment of sorts.
Mor knocked on the open door before she walked in and plopped down next to Rhys. She took note of our stern faces but didn’t say anything. Instead, she swiped one of the sandwiches off of the tray and shoved half of it in her mouth in one bite. “You, me, library.” Was all she said before she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.
“Well I know what you’re doing for the rest of the day.” Rhys laughed as I started to scramble to get dressed. I was about to start changing when I noticed he hadn't moved from his perch on my bed. “Get out!” I scratched at him and all but pushed him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. His laugh echoed off the empty halls outside my door.
In record time, I was running down the halls to the library. Mor was already sitting, her book curled against her chest. She didn’t look up from her book as she pointed to the one I had abandoned last night. “Butt in chair, book in hand.” She said and I laughed at her tone. I walked over to my couch and picked up the book, the spine slightly cracked from laying face down most of the day.
I must have finally gotten to the juicy part of the book because I felt Mor Peering over the edge of her own book. My poker face was completely gone as I sunk in every word. “No. Absolutely not!” I screamed, rereading the last few pages to make sure I was seeing it correctly.
“Did you finally get to..” I held up my hand to shush her. She laughed and threw one of the throw pillows at my head. I only put my book down long enough to catch the pillow, using it to now prop up my arms. Once I had confirmed I had not actually gone crazy, Mor and I started discussing the plot twist that had been the source of my outburst. She accidentally let a detail slip that had me scrambling back for the book, desperate to catch up to the point she had been talking about. This went on for hours until I saw her perk up. She turned to face me.
.
“They’re back.” Was all Mor said, still flipping through the book perched on her knees. I didn’t say anything else before I put my own book to the side and all but ran from the room. Her laugh bouncing off the walls behind me.
I could smell him before I saw him. That deep cedar and cold rain smell that I could wrap myself in. Rhys tried to say something to him but stopped when he realized he no longer held his audience's full attention. Azriel’s shadows ripping across the room and curling around my feet like a small cat. I could have purred at the feeling, tears started to peek along the corners of my eyes at the familiar feeling.
When I felt movement next to me, I felt momentary disappointment at the fact that Azriel was not standing in front of me. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and started to swing me in a circle, I felt joy so strong it almost hurt. Cassian sat me back down on my feet and when he went to speak, I wrapped my arms around him in return. We stood embracing each other, slowly rocking from foot to foot.
“Missed you, Princess.” He muttered into my head. I just nodded, my cheek too squished against his chest to say anything. “I think Mor was going to kill us if she had to be the only girl living in the house. Amren can only handle so much damage control and the coward spent most nights at her apartment.” He nudged my shoulder as he spoke, pulling a laugh from me. It felt good to laugh again. My cheeks hurt in the perfect way at the smile that stretched over my face.
A throat being cleared from across the room pulled my attention from Cassian. I could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Azriel stood in front of me, a true smile gracing his face. I squealed and rushed over into his arms. He didn’t swing me around like Cassian did, but he held me just as tight. It would have felt so right to crash my lips against his and he released me from his arms, but that wasn’t my relationship with Azriel. Those thoughts were nothing more than what I needed to make it through the events of the last fifty years. Azriel looked at me like I was a sister, nothing more. Rhys’ little sister on top of that. His high lord's little sister. He was the one who had coined my nickname centuries ago. When the trio first formed their own little band of brothers. I had gotten pulled in by proximity, Azriel said it one day and it had stuck ever since. “Hi Princess.” He said, tone polite but I could hear the joy behind them. I tried not to blush as I heard his voice. Shaking the things I had imagined that voice saying to me out of my head out, I mustered up a pathetic, “Hi, Az.”
It had never felt this awkward around him. Cursing myself mentally for thinking of all the things I would say to him when I finally saw him again. None of those words made their way out of me as the two of us stared at each other. “I’m glad you’re home.” Was all he said his words short but I felt the sincerity leaking from them. Biting down the flutter in my heart, I gave a short nod and wrapped my arms around myself. His eyes tracked the movement but didn’t say anything.
Cass clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, breaking the tension that I felt take over the room. “We’ll see you at training tomorrow,” I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m guessing you didn’t have time to… while you were gone. I can’t have my sister not able to defend herself. We would be the laughing stock of Pyrthian.” He smiled as I made a big show of rolling my eyes .
So I joined them for training the next morning. And the next. Cassian slowly ran through the basics until I was nothing more than a mile of sore bones and sweat by the end of our sessions. I would shower and hang out with Mor. Rhys was suddenly very busy as he tried to catch up on all the events he missed in his court over the last fifty years. He made more and more trips to Hewn City, leaving Mor free to run around with me. Before I knew it a month had passed and all of us were sitting around the table for one of our family dinners.
Jokes were flung around the table and no one noticed the way Rhys and I sat back, sinking it all in. More than once I caught his eyes from across the table and all we could do was smile at each other. Is it bad to say that I missed this? I spoke into his head as Mor and Cassian had started raising their voices at each other, getting into a slight argument over some random events of the day. I did too. Even when we both flinched at the volume Cassian’s voice had risen too. Even Azriel had started to chime in before Mor shot him down with a withering look. I laughed despite myself at his expression. I shut up when that look was turned to me.
The conversation fell into a natural lull and everyone was happily eating. Rhys hissed at something, shaking his arm that bore the bargain mark. Something must have prickled down the weird connection.
“I still can’t believe you let her go with Tamlin.” Cassian said, stabbing something on his plate with a little more force than necessary. Rhys bared his teeth at his brother.
“I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?” He slumped back into his chair, still rubbing his hand. “She already hated me because of this stupid bargain but if I had stolen away from the male she was willing to die for…”
“But Rhys. It’s Tamlin. No one would have slighted you, not after…” Cassian’s gaze flickered to me. As hard as I was trying to tune out the conversation, I still felt my chest tighten at their words. Rhys would have never taken Feyre without her permission, well at least outside of the bargain but we both knew that was simply a means to an end. Regardless of how much it must hurt to have another person he cared about over in spring, Rhys wouldn’t take that choice away from her, no matter how concerned he might be for her safety.
“How was it seeing the brute again?” Amren asked and the table silenced. I froze and kept my gaze locked down at my plate. Suddenly losing my appetite completely.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I itched at my wrist, tugging at the fabric that felt too tight around my wrist. Azriel placed a comforting hand over mine. I flashed him a thankful smile.
“You haven’t wanted to talk about it for over a century.” She prodded.
“And she shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” She took a breath like she was about to press the issue. “Why does it matter to you anyways?” Azriel hissed at her. Amren had the decency to take a hint and held up her hands in surrender, a smirk plastered on her face.
We all sat in silence for the rest of dinner. Even Cassian knew better than to make any comments due to the tension in the air. Everytime he would go to say something, Rhys would shoot daggers at him. Eventually I got sick of it and threw my napkin down.
“Fine. You want to know what it felt like?” I shouted at Amren. Everyone flinched. “I am terrified for that girl. Because I know what loving Tamlin does to someone. Seeing him felt just like you whenever someone mentions the prison.” She paled at my words and I didn’t spare her another look as I pushed away from the table, storming out. I know I would regret my words later but sometimes Amren needed a taste of her own medicine. She just loved to push everyone buttons because we were all too scared to really piss her off.
I flung myself into my bed, still fully dressed. I groaned into my pillow. Apologies could wait until tomorrow. A knock from the door had me fighting back swears. Stomping over to the door, I ripped it open and a very startled Rhys was standing in the hallway, hand raised like he was about to knock again.
“I wanted to check on you.” The high lord said.
“I’m fine” I gritted out and he raised an eyebrow at me. I let out a heavy sigh.
“I know I shouldn’t have taken the bait but I don’t want to talk about him, right now or ever, if I can avoid it.” Rhys’ eyes held sympathy and he just contuined standing in the hallway, letting me rant. “I mean it’s been so long. I didn’t want to talk about it then. No one’s asking how you feel about Tamlin.” I paused and Rhys just shrugged.
“If she’s happy with him, then it’s not my place to try to save her. If she wants to come here, then I’ll happily let her do that too.”
I stared at him like he had gone crazy. “What about the bargain?” He shrugged again
“It was necessary at the time. I don’t actually plan on cashing in on it. She’d only hate me. More.” I could feel his despair. The self loathing held behind those words.
“Rhys.” He shook his head.
“I’ll never take away her choice in this. Just because she’s my mate doesn’t mean I have a claim to her. Regardless of every nerve in my body screaming otherwise. It’s her life. She’s given more than enough to deserve whatever, whoever, makes her happy.” I went to hug him and he stepped out of my reach. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need your sympathy for making the right decision.” He tried to play it off as a joke but I knew he truly meant it.
“Well if you ever want to talk about it…”
“Like how you want to talk about Tamlin.” He cut me off. My mouth set into a thin line and I took that as a dismissal of the conversation. Fine. I just wanted to crawl into bed anyway.
“Well now that we’ve established that. Anything else you want to say, oh mighty High Lord.”
“No.”
“Good. Good night.” I said and swiftly shut the door in his face. I love my brother but he really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. I know deep down I’m mad because he called me out. I can’t expect him to pour his heart out to me when I won’t do the same thing.
I threw the covered back and crawled in, still fully dressed. Mind reeling. I wouldn’t even know where to start with talking to anyone about Tamlin. And what good would it do? All of that was in the past and talking about it would only piss everyone off all over again. We had just barely avoided attacking the spring court when I came home. I don’t want to drag Feyre into this now that she’s there.
I managed to finally fall asleep, tossing and turning. Dreams filled with deep swirling greens and the sound of growls.
When I woke up in the morning I could tell it was later than normal. The sun is slightly higher in the air. Snapping out of my sleepy haze I cursed as I jumped out of bed. I was late for training and Cassian wasn’t going to let me forget that.
Throwing on my clothes, mentally screaming at all the buckles on my training leathers. I knew not eating was going to come back to bite me in the ass but I simply didn’t have time as I sprinted through the house. In my haste, I passed a grinning Rhys. The events from last night seemingly forgiven as he taunted me.
“Maybe he’ll consider this your warm up today.” I held up a crude gesture and he only laughed harder.
I made it to the training rink in record time. My hands were on my knees as I panted. The stitch in my side was already screaming at me but I forced myself to stand up straight as Cassian sauntered over to me. The split in his lip told me Him and Azriel had gotten started without me.
“You’re late, princess.” I flinched at his tone. He surveyed me. “I think double drills should be enough to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I cursed, I couldn’t get through the routine once without limping back to the house. Two would kill me and he knew it.
“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” He held out his hand “Consider this it.” He stepped away from me, going back over to Azriel. I know Cassian wasn’t actually mad at me. He also knew that if he went easy on me, I wouldn’t take training seriously. I appreciated the routine of it all and I really did need it. So sighing I got started.
I was halfway through my second set when Cas called me over.
“Lesson learned?” He simply asked. I nodded. Still trying to take in breath. My muscles are screaming at me for still being vertical.
“Good because Cas and I decided it’s finally time to step this up a notch. You’re almost the same as you were before. Now it’s time to get your powers involved. Relearn how to fight with those.” Azriel spoke. My stomach sank. This was something I hadn't considered. It was a stupid oversight on my part and I didn’t know how to get myself out of this so I responded with the truth.
“I don’t have my powers.”
“Okay, nice joke” Cassian cut in.
“I’m not joking. I can’t use them anymore.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I can’t use my powers” I grumble. “They’re still in there but it’s like I’m fighting against a wall.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that revelation.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know but all I know is I tried to use them… you know… And they wouldn’t come. Everyone had theirs back so I know it wasn’t the curse. So for whatever reason I couldn’t make them work.” It was embarrassing to admit. My powers had been the only truly useful thing I could rely on in the training ring.
“Have you tried since then?” I nodded. Not so much of a glimmer of them since I came home. I told Cassian that much and he swore under his breath.
“We could always take you to see Helion.” I shook my head at his words.
“I don’t want to burden him with more problems. He has enough to do in his own court. I’ll figure it out, but for now I’ll just have to fight the old fashioned way.”
Neither of the males in front of me seemed to be happy with my response but Cassian jumped right back in.
“Fine. But that means that you have a lot more training to do. If you had your powers you would be fine. But in just plain hand to hand combat, you’d get your ass kicked by anyone with any skill.”
I glared at him but I knew he was telling the truth. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into the center of the ring and tossed him one of the training swords. Heavy but they wouldn’t do nearly as much damage when he hit me.
“Do your worst then.” Was all I said before he charged at me.
“You’re sloppy.” Cassian barked as he knocked the sword out of hand again, again. I held my wrist as it twisted at a weird angel. My cheeks heated with anger and I went to wipe the sweat that had formed on my brow with my other, only to find it just as damp. I recoiled in disgust and Cassian laughed again.
“You try getting your shit kicked in for fifty years and see how you bounce back.” I spoke and I saw his face pale. Shit. “Joking Cas, it’s okay.”
I shook my head. “I am sloppy. And that’s why I’m still training with your annoying ass. You’ll have me back in tip top shape.” He relaxed slightly, but his shoulders still wouldn’t lower.
I sighed and did the only thing I could think of as he turned away from me. I jumped onto his back, being mindful of his wings and pulled him down to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh as I took us both onto our sides, I quickly bounded to my feet, ignoring the sting in my side from the impact.
“Come on you big Illyrian baby.” I raised my arms slightly in front of me and a flicker of something crossed Cassian's face and I saw him make the decision to play along. To pretend that this was just a normal day of training. He leapt to his feet with a surprising amount of grace.
“If you want a fight, you got it princess” He said with a smirk. We both stood in the middle of the training ring, circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Swords forgotten off to the side. I saw the slight twitch of his left side and I made the choice to ignore the fake out, and went to block my right side. It was the right choice, the blow aimed toward my right side bounded off my forearm, it still stung but at least it didn’t put me on my ass like it would have had it made contact. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm back, pulling him closer towards me and pushing on his back. He only stumbled for a second before he regained his footing. That kick had put me off balance more than I anticipated and it was easy for Cassian to grab the leg that lowered too slowly, grabbing my ankle and yanking me to my stomach. I yelped at the contact. He laughed loudly as I held my hand up in surrender. I rolled over onto my back with a groan.
“Give me a few days back in training and I’ll have you on your ass, General.” He laughed even harder.
“In case you forgot, princess, you could barely do that even on your best days. Give yourself more time.”
“A week.” I responded with my own laugh. Whatever I had done, it worked. Cassian’s shoulders had fully relaxed and I noticed the smile gracing his face finally reached his eyes. I noticed Azriel starting a few feet away. I sat back on my elbows, propping myself up. “Want a round, Az?” I teased and was rewarded by him rolling those big hazel eyes.
“I think you’ve hurt yourself enough for today.” Was all he said before he turned to stalk away from the ring. I laid back down in the dirt of the ring at his retreating figure, sighing heavily. Cas comes to stand over me, offering me a hand up. I grab it, pulling myself up.
“Give him some more time to come around. This was harder for him than the rest of us.” He was suddenly serious. “He’ll get there, but you know him. Broody as they come.” He nudged me with his wing and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture. I nodded in understanding and the pair of us walked back up to the house.
This was harder for him than the rest of us. The words bounced around my head for the rest of the day. It makes sense. Azriel would have seen this as him failing. Not only failing me but his High Lord. Regardless of how hard everyone must have tried to comfort him, he would always blame himself, and only himself, for Rhys and I going under the mountain.
It also explained why Azriel seemed to be avoiding me. Besides that first awkward meeting, he always managed to find an excuse to not be in the same room as me if he could avoid it. I’ve been home for almost a month now and I had hardly seen him. The few times I ran into him in the hall, he would quickly and politely brush me. Not saying anymore than a few words in greeting or response to a question I might have asked him. Be patient. I could do that. But it was hard to ignore the sting in my chest every time he brushed me off. We were practically joined at the hip before I left. I fit seamlessly into the fold of the trio but now Azriel felt like a stranger again.
My mind was too full of thoughts to begin to try to settle down, so after I bathed the dirt and sweat off, I changed into a loose nightgown that almost went to the ground and padded off for the library. When I got to the door, it was slightly cracked, light from the fireplace filling even the hallway with its warmth. It was like the room itself was calling to me and as I stepped in. Above the crackle of the fire, I made out the sound of pages turning, of fabric rustling as someone shifted on one of the couches in the room. I searched for the source of the sound and found none other than Azriel lounging with a book propped open on his lap. He didn’t seem to notice me until one of his shadows snuck off his lap and slithered over to my feet, wrapping around them like they always did.
He closed his book and glanced over to where I stood in the doorway. Something flashed across his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before it faded away. He cleared his throat and said a generic greeting. My heart sank as I saw him mark the page he was on in his book, and place it on the end table to his right. I tried not to pout as I said. “Don’t leave on my account.” I said, keeping my tone light to hide the oily feeling pooling in my stomach. The shadow at my feet seemed to curl in tighter to me as Azriel went to stand.
“I was just finishing up anyways.” He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. “The rooms all yours.”
“Azriel…” I don’t know what I was going to stay. Maybe beg him to stay with me, maybe start shouting at him but I know none of that would help, would only make both of us feel worse. Be patient with him. So I bit back all the words I wanted to say to him and simply said. “Good night.” He called to me as he headed out of the room, his shoulder just barely brushing mine as he passed by me. The room suddenly felt too cold so I willed the house to put the fire out and walked out, heading back to my own room suddenly feeling very tired.
I crawled under my covers and tried to push the thought of Azriel’s eyes out of my mind as I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
I sensed it. I was back under the mountain. Nonono. This can’t be happening but I saw it all out in front of me. Rhys was in front of me, standing on the dais with Amarantha standing next to him. I almost broke down, knees buckling, when I saw that all-too-familiar mask of indifference grace my brother's face. I tried to call out but my voice wouldn’t come out, feet locked in place as I stood and helplessly watched as the red haired female reached a finger under Rhys chin. Bile raised in my throat as I saw her whisper something to him, something I couldn’t make out. When I tried to reach out for his mind, I was met with nothing more than those iron thick walls he built up. Amarantha’s eyes locked on mine and it was like she set me on fire. My skin burned, the string of her breaking my bones, of the attors smacking me down everytime I said something out of place. Finally I seemed to find my voice, but only a scream ripped from my throat at the phantom pain. Her red lips curled into a cold smile. “Welcome back pet.” another scream made its way from my throat.
I flung myself into a sitting position, jolting awake from the nightmare. My lungs ached as I gulped down air. My skin still burned and I threw off my blanket, pulling my knees to my chest. I almost screamed again as I realized the presence of something, someone, in my room.
Azriel’s soft voice said my name. “I heard you scream, I thought…” My eyes finally adjusted and I could make out his frame. “I’m sorry. I'll go.”
“No.” I rasped, throat raw. I must have actually been screaming. That explains his presence in my room, kind of. My hand went up to my neck attempting to rub away the pain in my chest. The pain didn't stop the request that bubbled over my lips. “Please. Stay.” I saw him go still, turning back around to me. Even in the dark, I was able to find his eyes, wide open as they locked on mine. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried not to sniffle.
He whispered my name again. “Just go back to sleep.” He was starting to turn around again. My body reacted faster than my mind, I reached over the large bed, reached for his arm. “Please.” It was all I could get out. Please stay. Please talk to me. Please can we pretend that all of this didn’t happen and please be my best friend again. So many things tied into that one word. It’s almost like he sensed it and he sighed, relaxing into my touch.
“Only until you fall back asleep.” He sounded exhausted and his tone made me feel heavy all over again. He still shuffled in behind me. I tried not to think about the fact that when I went to tuck myself into his chest that I was met with bare skin. Resisted the urge to trail my hand down along those perfect abs, to the deep vee that I knew laid beneath them. I just buried myself deeper into his side and I felt his wings wrap around me, shielding me from the world around us as I drifted back to sleep. The smell of cedar lulling me into a dreamless sleep.
I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I’ve been back home. I knew he wouldn’t still be here but my hand still reached out to the side of the bed he’d been in, still warm. He had stayed. That explains why I slept so well. His scent lingered in the room and not caring how desperate it might have seemed, I buried my face into the pillow he had been laying on. I let his scent surround me and calm me down. A knock on the door had me groaning but sitting up anyways.
‘You didn’t come to breakfast so I wanted to check on you…” More said as she opened the door, she looked around as she spoke and her face fell slightly before continuing. “I had Nuala make you a tray in case you were hungry when you woke up.” She held a small wooden tray in her hand and I beamed at her, touched by the small gesture from my cousin.
“Thank you.” Was all I could get out, tears threatening to fall at the kindness in her action.
“I heard you last night.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the edge of my bed, sitting down at my feet. “I know I wasn’t there, but if you ever need to talk, or just someone to listen to. I’ll always be here.”
“You don’t need that stuff in your head too. It’s bad enough it's mine.”
She said my name in a concerned tone and I waved her off. “Don’t we have some books you need me to finish?” I said, deflect. She sighed sensing she wouldn’t win this one.
“Maybe we should take a break from the library today.” My face dropped as I thought of what I could possibly do with my day if it wasn’t reading with Mor. “I need to go shopping for some stuff, start looking around for Solstice presents and I haven't had a proper shopping buddy…” She trailed off, giving me a full megawatt smile.
“Alright let's go, before you start batting your eyelashes at me.” I playfully rutted her in the ribs and she threw her arm over my shoulder.
I haven't gone out to the shops in Velaris since I’d been back home. A part of me had forgotten how beautiful my home truly was. I tried not to stare in awe at the new vendors, the smell of food lingering in the air. People walked to and fro, running errands for the day. Mor and I had found one of my favorite dress shops and all but pulled me into the shop.
The designer was known for her slightly scandalous fashion. Floor length gowns with cut outs that left little to the imagination but were still heartbreakingly gorgeous. By the time Mor and I left, our arms were full of bags and I still had a few more dresses to pick up that needed to be altered.
We flitted in and out of more stores until the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon. When I noticed where we were I almost suggested we stopped by Rita’s but my shoulders were starting to hurt from the weight of the bags and Mor wouldn’t be able to winnow us into the house if we did have a few drinks nor did I even want to think of carrying them back.
So when we finally checked out from the last store, Mor having purchased a honestly hideous printed shirt for Cassian, we joined arms and started the walk back to the townhouse.
After dropping off all of my new things in my room, I knew I had to go apologize to Rhys. Armen could wait, if I ever bothered to say sorry to her. She wouldn’t hold it against me either way. Our relationship was more antagonist than anything else anyways. So I put the clothes into my closet and padded off to find Rhys.
Eventually I found him in his study. He didn’t look up as I closed the door behind me. I called his name. Still nothing. So I walked over to his desk. I noticed he was clutching a letter in his hand, holding it so tightly that it was starting to crinkle. I went beside him and soothed the letter out of his hand. My face paled as I read carefully over the words.
Feyre was marrying Tamlin.
The letter wasn’t an invitation. Just a simple announcement that would be extended to all high lords when one of them married. I dropped the piece of paper like it had burned me. I grasped for the right words to say to my brother, but when he looked up at me they all faded away. Agony I had never quite seen in them before knocked the breath from my lungs.
“I know I have no reason to be upset. I should just be happy that she’s happy. But I can’t find it in me.” He stared at the tattoo on his hand. “I’ll never see her again. Not after she marries him. I might get glimpses at balls but I’ll never really be able to see her.” Never be able to see her because we both know how Tamlin treats the people he loves. The gilded cage Feyre will be locked in the moment she says “I do”. I gave myself a moment to mourn for the girl. But I know there was nothing either of us could do in this situation. So I did the only thing I could think of. I strolled over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and poured both of us a few fingers of whiskey. He eyed it carefully as I passed him the glass. He took it out of my hands and knocked it back in one fluid motion. I did the same with mine. Holding out the glass for more, I poured him another. We just sat drinking until the familiar flush started to creep onto my face. Rhys hasn't said much, neither of us have. Content with drinking away the pit in both of our stomachs.
“I love her.” He said after he finished his third glass. He didn’t sound. In fact this was the most sober I think I had ever heard him
“I think I’ve loved her since I first saw her in the spring court. But I know I loved her when she offered herself in place of Tamlin. This brave human offering to save our entire world, who before that moment would have let her tear her to shreds.” He grimaced, as if the very thought disgusted him.
“So tell her.” I said with a shrug. He glared at me.
“You know it’s not that easy.” I did know. But I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t want him to have to sit here and drown out his sorrow while Tamlin got to play hero. Tamlin, who sat around while my brother risked his neck time and time again to save Feyre. He slumped down into his chair and laughed at the ceiling.
“The mother can be a real bitch sometimes. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this good fortune.” His voice was bitter and truly didn’t know how to respond. I went to pour him another glass but he put a hand over his glass.
“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing. I think I need to go to sleep before I march into the Spring Court and drag her out. Regardless of if she’ll hate me or not.” His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You should head to bed soon too. I don’t need to look into your mind to know you’re going a million miles a minute right now.”
He wasn’t wrong. My thoughts had been roaring around in my head since I read that letter. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into Feyre’s shoes. My heart panged for this selfless girl. How long until the cracks in the foundation started show and she would be pulled into the storm that is Tamlin. I nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Putting the cork back onto the glass bottle. I rose from my chair, rolling my stiff shoulders. Rhys and I both returned to our respective rooms.
Hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but couldn’t get comfortable. I had run out of the sleeping tonic a few nights before so I just accepted that sleep wasn’t going to come. I made no move to get out of bed though. I just curled my covers tighter over me. When the sun peeked through my curtain. I didn’t get up. I didn’t go to training. I didn’t even get up from my bed until mid afternoon, just going far enough to use the bathroom. Immediately crawling back into the warmth of my bed.
Someone had knocked on the door and I pretended to be asleep when I heard the door click open. I ignored the smell of cedar until I felt a shadow sweep across my bed, settling by my face. If it knew I was asleep, it didn’t respond to its master. But it also didn’t leave when my door softly shut. I just turned to face away from the ripple of blackness. Not wanting to deal with the comfort the small action granted me.
When I finally left my bedroom the next day, I learned Rhys had behaved similarly yesterday. The two of us floating around the house. We were bad enough that the others cleared out of whatever room we were in. I couldn’t find it in myself to really care enough to knock it off.
This continued for the remainder of the week leading up to the date of the wedding. I expected the same behavior as I woke up the morning of the big day. But when I walked into the kitchen, Rhys was sitting around the table with Cassian and Azriel, head thrown back in laughter. He turned his head to me as I walked in and smiled at me.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I grunted at him. Walking to the fridge I pulled out a bowl of fruit and swiped a couple pieces of sliced strawberry. He hummed in response and Cassian spoke up.
“We’re going to the cabin later, if you want to come with us. We’ll need someone to help us finish all this booze.” He gestured to three large boxes that were occupying the floor of the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow to Rhys and he shook his head. Drop it. He spoke in my head. I shoved him out and when I looked back at him, he looked hurt.
“Boys, can I speak to my brother alone?” The two looked confused but stood up from the table regardless.
“You don’t approve?” Rhy asked plainly. I scoffed.
“They might not know what today is, but I do,” I snatched the unopened bottle from his hand. “If you want to drink yourself stupid, I won’t stop you but that doesn’t prevent all of this from happening.” He made a lunge for the bottle and I was somehow able to keep it out of his grasp. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
“What do you want me to say? That I would rather her marry anyone else than him? That I wish I was the one that she was happy to see. That I wished she would change her mind…” He trailed off. Eyes seemingly far away. Horror washed over his face.
“Rhys?” I spoke softly, wondering if I pushed him too hard.
“I have to go.” Was all he said and before I could catch him, he had winnowed away.
I had been on edge since Rhys disappeared with no sign of where he was going to. It hasn't been more than an hour but I was about to wear a hole through the rugs in the hallway with my pacing. Suddenly, I heard Rhys in my head. Grab Mor and meet me at the big house. I didn’t respond. Just went to find Mor, she must have received a similar message because when I got to her room she was already waiting for me. She didn;t ask any questions, merely grabbing my arm and winnowing us to the house we rarely ever used. When we arrived to the house I nearly gasped as I saw why Rhys had disappeared so suddenly. I just had time to make out a satin slipper as it was chucked with deadly precision right at Rhys’ head. She had barely launched the other one at him before she stormed off up the stairs. Rhys was all but growling as he stalked over to us. “That went well.” Mor snorted at him and this time Rhys actually growled at her before stalking over to his own room.
We didn't see or hear from Feyre for the rest of the night, the three of us eating in silence. I felt the tension rolling off of Rhys when Nuala and Cerridwen informed us that Feyre hadn't eaten the dinner they had left for her. My stomach sank and I avoided the stare from my brother. He had asked me to go check on her. Saying that I could offer her some company. I didn’t have it in me to talk to her yet. Didn’t want to make this day, this decision, about me. And I know going into that room I would see a younger version of myself I wasn’t ready to face.
The next day, Rhys had insisted on her joining us for breakfast. She came stomping down the stairs. “I’m not a dog.” She sneered at him before taking a tentative seat at the table.
She looked around and her eyes locked onto mine, recognition sparkling in them,
“I remember you. You were under the mountain. What are you doing here?” Her tone was surprisingly pleasant, a stark contrast from every word she had said to my brother.
I introduced myself. “I’m his sister.” She laughed at that.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was hard to bite back my comment while I looked at her. It was like looking into an old memory, the dark circle around her eyes, the way the light had completely vanished behind them. She didn’t even look like this under the mountain. Tamlin had broken her completely. I’m sorry for you. I didn’t say that though, instead just responding with a simple.
“You get used to it.”
“I doubt that.” She snorted and started picking at the food in front of her.
#acomaf#acosf#acotar fanfiction#azriel acotar#acotar#acotar series#acowar#azriel angst#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#rhys!sister#feyre archeron#feyre x rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand#cassian#cassian acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
Helpless part 40, It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us
"Neeks, you awake?"
"What time is it?" The Hades child mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.
"11:24."
"How the fuck am I still tired?"
"Because you still need to catch up on sleep and you're off drugs medical and others after a while so you're still adjusting."
"I'll be honest I didn't process half of that." Will rolled his eyes teasingly, walking over to mess up his hair more than it already was. Will started to look through some files he'd brought in with himself as Nico started to get ready,
"Can I braid your hair?"
"You know how to braid?"
"Not very well, but Kayla made me learn a few years ago before she had to let Aussi cut her hair on a dare."
"I can imagine how well that went, but sure." Will sat next to him, brushing out and parting his hair before starting to do a french braid. "Do you have the second volume of Heartstopper?" Will laughed, quickly kissing Nico on the cheek.
"I can't believe I thought you were straight but yes, I have all the books."
"I can't believe I thought you were straight."
"Think you were the only one Neeks."
"Oh shut up Solace."
"Don't think I will di Angelo."
"Gods save me."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Nothing." He answered almost instantly,
"Not an option."
"I'm not hungry." He promptly ignored him and pulled out three ceral bars from his pocket,
"Pick one."
"Leave me alone."
"Do you feel sick?"
"I- I- just... can't, drop it William."
"I'll leave them here, just eat when you can, alright?" He said, half hugging him.
"Fine."
"Nico, have you considered talking to someone? Maybe keeping a journal as well?"
"Only if you'll also get help." He couldn't think of something he wanted to do less but Will needed help, desperately.
"It's not your job to worry about me."
"Will, I'm your boyfriend, it really is."
"Are you comfortable with the idea of talking to someone?" He was fine, he knew he was worthless what's the point of lying to himself.
"N-no." Fuck, this wasn't going the way he hoped.
"Nico, you don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with, that won't help. Also... I'm sorry about last night.. I- it's- yeah I'm just sorry."
"Will, no one's perfect, you need help, please, just try to."
"Neeks, I'm fine, really. I was just shocked last night and yeah, there have been a lot of people in the infirmary because of the war normally it's just less hectic." Lying through his teeth, he hated himself for it but that's fine, just another thing to add to the endless list. He wasn't Nico's responsibility, he doesn't need anything else on his mind.
"Just, take a break every now and then, I swear you're always working."
"Actually Kayla's ban me from working for the rest of the week soooooo."
"Good, you need it. Wait does that mean I don't get to see you for a week?"
"Nope, you can't get rid of me that easily. Apparently I'm too much of a simp for that, but I have a feeling she's timing it to make sure I don't spend the whole day here."
"I can see that happening, but you need a break so she is completely right."
"I really hate you sometimes di Anglo."
"I know." He whispers, blowing the son of Apollo a kiss.
"Solace, times up!"
"Better go Sunshine, also... I'll try journaling, I don't know if it'll help but I'll try."
"I'm proud of you Neeks," He ruffled his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he kissed him back, wrapping his hands around his neck."I'll see you soon."
***
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson fandom#nico di angelo#pjo#fanfic#will solace#solangelo#annabeth chase#fanfiction#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson fan fiction#percy jackson fic#percy jackson fanfiction#percyjackson#fan fic writing#fan fic#fan fiction#solangelo fic#my fic#fic writing#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fanfiction#gay#leo valdez#reyna avila ramirez arellano#jason grace#piper mclean#frank zhang#hazel levesque
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
imgonnagetyouback
pairing: logan sargeant x reader
summary: you aren’t sure if you want to destroy his car or take him home with you
a/n: most of this was written late at night and not proofread. love y’all, thanks for answering the poll, that was fun. might do it again
requests open masterlist
————————
You enter your usual Miami haunt with your friends, one mission in mind. Your lilac skirt fits your like a glove, showing off your legs and curves. It was Logan’s favorite.
Logan was an asshole, he knows it, ever since he broke up with you last year. He’s been keeping tabs on your socials recently, knowing this is where you go when you are in Miami instead of Fort Lauderdale. He brought Oscar with him as moral support, they stand at the bar, laughing over some bubbly drink.
Your eyes scan the club as you walk in, slightly pausing when you recognize the blonde guy staring at you from the bar, you can tell when someone wants you. Instead, you train your eyes on some guy on the dance floor, sending him a flirty smile and joining him for a dance or two, giving Logan a chance to pull himself together before going in. He can’t help but tell Oscar how good you look. The trap has been sprung. You are going to get Logan back. Whether romantically or by revenge, you weren’t sure.
You walk over to the bar, pretending to have not noticed the pair, standing one seat over.
“Tequila shot,” you order and Logan takes his chance.
“Add two more and put it on my tab,” Logan tells the bartender, Oscar gags a little, but doesn’t protest. You give Logan a look he can’t decipher, but you slide into the seat beside them.
“Thanks,” you say, the awkward small talk between the three of you filling the time as you wait for the shots. Logan salts his wrist for his shot. You grab his wrist, lick it, and throw back the shot. Oscar barely suppresses his laugh as you turn to go back to the dance floor. Logan quickly throws back the shot and follows you. Your friends find Oscar and chat, the group curious to see how this pans out.
“Y/n,” Logan catches your wrist, you act like you don’t care about him, but you can see the whispers in his eyes searching if you still love him. It breaks your cold heart a little. “Don’t be mad, please. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, trying to win you back.
“I’m like your fucking car. You steered me into the fucking ditch then ran off,” you say after a second, turning back towards the crowd, he just pulls you closer.
“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for that,” he admits, you ignore him, dancing to the beat, not pushing him away but not encouraging him to dance with you either. Just when things are feeling too comfortable, you walk away in the direction of the bathrooms. Logan follows.
“Will you give me a chance?” he asks, the music quiet in the background. ‘God, he’s so fucking fine’ you think to yourself. The lighting doing everything right, the shadows enhance his jawline but his eyes shine bright.
“I haven’t decided yet,” your eyes revealing more than you intended. He can see the hurt and love in them. You aren’t sure if you want to curse him out or bring him home.
“What can I do,” he grabs your hands.
“I don’t know. I’m between being your wife or smashing your car,” you say, steeling yourself. Logan is thinking twice, unsure if he was ever yours or was never not yours. Logan pulls your closer, kissing you. Your body automatically responds to him. letting him pull you close.
“You’re mine,” you whisper, the temptation to both flip him off or pull him into the bathroom strong. He follows you back to the dance floor, you can feel the tension and chemistry coming back, electricity humming in the way you dance together. It’s like pressing a reset button, becoming something new. Oscar and your friends left a while ago, knowing the two of you were determined to leave here together from the start.
You tell the cab the address of your Miami apartment. Every moment that passes sees the hurt and past fade to gray.
“Pick your poison, I’m poison either way,” you had told Logan earlier, he chose you anyway, the both of you wanting to play with the broken pieces of your former relationship.
He pushes you against the wall, kissing you passionately.
“Before we do this, where do you stand? If we go ahead, there is no turning back,” Logan stops, needing to know that you belong to him again, you already know he belongs to you.
“I hate you but I love you just the same. I’m gonna get you back,” you tug on his shirt, pulling him back to you, a feral need for him growing.
It wasn’t a surprise to Logan’s friends when you showed up to the Miami paddock later that week.
What was a surprise was the ring around your finger, one that matches the one around Logan’s.
“What the hell?” Oscar asks, a smile on his face.
“I’m not going to let her go again,” Logan looks down at you with a smile.
“I chose to love him till the end, luckily for Sauber,” you joke, referencing the team who decided to take a chance on Logan and help him develop.
“I’m happy for you two,” Oscar says, happy to see his best friend happy. Everyone but your parents were happy for you, the parents were just mad you got married without them there.
“I am too, but I will take it out on his car if he hurts me again,” you tell Oscar, joking but not joking. Logan just holds you closer. You both told each other about your plans to get each back, it caused a lot of laughter.
“That’s my wife,” he grins proudly. Oscar shakes his head at his friends.
“You did what!” Alex runs over to the two of you. “Where was my invite? Oh, glad to have you back Y/n, Lily missed you,” Alex says, as the two of you just laugh.
instagram
y/nsargeant what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now your mine ❤️
logansargeant it was all by design ❤️
oscarpiastri not letting the two of you go back to a club, Y/n will end up pregnant or something
y/friend1 you both took getting each other back a little too seriously. this is why i love you
user1 hold up, since when were mom and dad back together??
user2 AND MARRIED??
y/friend2 you really went to the club heartbroken and left ready to get married😭 ilysm
alexalbon they are so unserious 😭
sauberf1 when did this happen? LOGAN??? we’re not mad. pick up your phone
charlesleclerc ^^^
carlossainz55 ^^^
landonorris ^^^
georgerussell iconic
y/nsargeant thanks pookie 🫶
49 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do some more comics with Francis mosses
I can, but the problem is
That I’m pretty much out of ideas and I’m progressively getting tired of tnmn fandom
Ppl who look at my tags probably noticed that 😓
More of my thoughts under read more for curious ppl
(short answer maybe I will do more, but I desperately need a break from tnmn)
! Just a general warning: this came out kinda long + sort of venty
Originally I planned to do 1 comic drop and move on, but got stuck bc ppl liked tnmn comics and kept asking for more (and still do-)
Generally I don’t mind doing more if the ideas are there, but I want to address this: I’m tired
I know blowing up is usually a good thing and I appreciate people enjoying my stuff
But it’s exhausting to see that tnmn is the only type of content which is relevant, to the point that my own projects or stuff I enjoy are just kinda.. ignored
It’s fair – again my blog is heavily fandom based
(+Tsp were and still is kinda the focus)
But with tnmn fandom it’s a bit… different
Maybe I’m biased and it’s just my negative experience with tiktok comments
Remember this art?
cleaning up transphobic comments was.. um tough
Again, I get that you can’t be in that neat bubble completely sheltered from negativity
Humans are just assholes by nature really/j
So I was expecting the backlash, but not that much
I think maybe tsp fandom spoiled me a bit (in a good way), bc I got a feeling that everyone in tsp was positive of any lgbt+ headcanons and just generally more supportive
(don’t get me wrong, there ARE problems in tsp community too, taking narrators design controversy into account as one of the examples)
Obviously every fandom always has it’s own issues, show me at least one fandom that didn’t have some sort of meaningless controversy or some sort of problematic people in it
It happens
But it leaves a bad taste in your mouth sometimes
And for me personally it only added to not so pleasant experience
The thing I also noticed, when I interacted with other fandoms
Ppl wrote positive stuff first and foremost, not really asking for anything
Here it’s just “hey more. I want more. Do more. Do this character. Do this. Do more.”
The only reason I kept doing more, because likes, reblogs, views – these comics get a ton of attention
there is a audience to please alright
But this thing comes with a pressure tho
and it shows
so let me illustrate
This bookcase
Is my shame
Because I was so rushing, I just copied and colour corrected this bookcase from my diploma comic and pasted it here in hopes for the best
💥IT LOOKS HORRIBLE OKAY💥
Usually it’s normal to take materials used in other projects
the not so normal part is
to leave it like that because your stress reducing tea doesn’t work and you don’t really have time to redraw it
my m en ta l s t a t e i s f i n e ah ah h ah ah
Ok but jokes aside: it’s really tempting, to just abandon everything and produce content like some sort of content farm
But I don’t want to, I’m forcing myself and it makes my art worse
Yes it’s subtle, new people won’t even see this
But I’m not improving
And I don’t enjoy just anxiously popping out comics because everyone keeps asking
I can give it my all to something when I’m passionate, but just “hey I’m getting attention” is not the best motivator
Attention like that does get to my head, I know that I will probably give in again and do more, bc I will compare my posts engagement
But what’s the point of recognition, when you feel.. so numb about it…
Sorry for a mountain of text and thank you for ppl who actually took their time to read it
It’s been building up for a while and I feel like people need to know the reason why I’m not so enthusiastic about making “more”
I’m not necessarily completely abandoning this fandom
I still plan to do ask/suggestions event for STP (I’m just making sure I can dedicate my time to it, that’s why it’s taking so long) and I can add tnmn to the mix
Like STP+tnmn kind of deal
But for now – I need a break
At least for a little bit
#bear answers#vent post#nothing serious just a bunch not so positive thoughts#tnmn#that’s not my neighbor#tnmn fandom#thoughts#fandom thoughts#apologies for possible mistakes/typos
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
and just like that I might finally be eli jang trash
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dracula Daily Thoughts From May 11-August 13:
May 11th
- I just realized I never actually got down my thoughts for this one, so I’m reading back from this point to refresh myself. As always, I really love Lucy’s voice as a narrator? She has such a clear personality from the first few sentences, and it’s so distinct from Jonathan and Mina’s narrative voices.
- Many jokes have already been made about how Lucy describes Seward but oh my god “Just fancy! He is only nine-and-twenty, and he has an immense lunatic asylum…” is SO funny. Yes, that’s very fancy.
May 12th
May 15th
- The description of the castle is lovely and atmospheric. The exploration, and focus on opening a single door itself has a Bluebeard-esque quality. I can’t recall if this is where he meets the brides later on, but if so, it would be appropriate.
- I also ove how accustomed to Dracula’s bullshit Jonathan is at this point. It’s simultaneously funny but also feels fairly realistic. It also makes his subtly hinted despair that much more poignant later on when he’s confronted with any sense of normalcy in the unknown wing of the castle.
May 16th
- Jonathan looking to Dracula for safety is heartbreaking and also an excellent choice. The captive narrative aspect of this segment is deeply fascinating to me and I like that touch of nuance there. Especially next to the commingling intimacy and violation of Dracula carrying him to bed and undressing him. And Jonathan’s realization towards the end of the entry that this room he hates, that is his cage, is also something of a safe haven.
- The brides!! I love them!!
- It’s very interesting how Jonathan seems to sense Dracula’s approach, and his fury, before he sees him or otherwise has reason to know that he’s in the room
- Very intriguing that the brides’ choice of argument is to speak of love. I think it can be read in a number of ways.
- Dracula giving them a baby to share for dinner is one of my favorite details tbh!
May 18th
- Jonathan finding the door shut again ramps up the Bluebeard imagery. It also seems to suggest that the brides only have the run of the single wing? Which is interesting.
May 19th
- Anything attributed to Dracula being described as “suave” is very funny. The actual entry is so grim though. I love seeing Jonathan’s thought processes as he considers how Dracula may respond to anything he might do. It may seem like an obvious thing but I like how it implies his prolonged captivity is affecting him, that he must consider these things at all. Idk it’s just something that I think might be overlooked in other stories.
- It’s also so interesting how they’re both still playing at him being Dracula’s guest. And the excuses he makes for why he’s requiring Jonathan to write these letters.
- “I know now the span of my life” is such a death knell of a line.
May 24th
- The tonal shift after Jonathan’s horrors is SO funny, oh my god.
-My boy Seward is so awkward, I love him so much 💖
- Quincey only breaking out the Texas slang to amuse Very British Lucy is amazing. I love it.
May 25th
- It’s very interesting that Seward recognizes his own apparent cruelty in how he treats Renfield, though at this time we don’t actually see how he actually does treat him. And the observation about selfishness vs selflessness feels like a Chekov’s gun to be revisited later
May 28th
- The slight hope that Jonathan may get word to Mina or someone to help him closely followed by the almost immediately dashing of that hope when it turns out the letters were given directly to Dracula is so much. And once again the play at cordiality.
May 31st
- It’s so interesting that Dracula seems to be punishing Jonathan for the letters several days later. I think he said his diary was in his clothes pocket, otherwise I would wonder what he’s even writing the entry on.
June 5th
- LOL at Renfield having a “love for animals.” This is very interesting on reread, because the different format and delayed entries do help to read it with fresh eyes. And not already knowing Renfield’s entire schtick, the way his character is introduced is fairly clever. Like obviously it’s leading somewhere but it absolutely does not prepare the reader for where it actually does go.
June 17th
- People from the outside, being so close, but Jonathan’s locked in his room :( Also I get the impression they’re probably going to be transporting Dracula’s dirt.
June 18th
- It’s very telling that Seward starts out his very first entry awhile ago with how dejected he is at Lucy’s rejection. And then all subsequent entries are just his work observations. This one doesn’t even have any opinions, it’s only focused on Renfield. It gives the impression that he does not want to engage with his own issues at all.
June 24th
- OH so Dracula wasn’t punishing Jonathan, he’s literally just going to use his stuff himself. Though I’m not sure I buy the explanation that he intends to wear his clothes to trick people into thinking they’ve seen Jonathan at the villages or something. I just can’t see clothing being *that* identifying, unless he’s intending to idk stay at inns or something and give Jonathan’s name? Regardless his growing dread, panic, and simultaneous resignation is so well done.
June 25th
- I like Jonathan’s increased focus on the goings on outside his window and the weather, it really adds to the the feeling that he’s trapped in his room, and that is his only outlet and connection with the outside world. It’s also cool to see him organically piecing together that Dracula is nocturnal, when at this point it’s just a genre (and novel) given.
June 29th
- I find Dracula’s interactions with Jonathan, and his dialogue much more compelling on this read. My usual opinion of the novel is that Dracula, himself, is the weakest character. I think I might still finish the book with that impression, especially since he’s going to have less dialogue going forward, if I recall correctly. But his individual interactions with Jonathan have been very intriguing. I think the delayed email format forces me to consider each entry and each scene individually, where my usual habit would be to read very quickly and to maybe lose some of the detail along the way. But this current read, I find him very effective as a captor that puts on a kind face. Which itself is the most unsettling possible choice imo. And him offering to let Jonathan go, with the clear implication that he wouldn’t survive being left out among wolves (or perhaps the brides even) is itself so cruel and I love it.
- I also remember reading some speculation that perhaps the vampires have already been feeding on Jonathan he either isn’t fully aware of it or simply hasn’t been writing it down. I think that’s definitely possible considering Dracula’s line “Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours,” and that Jonathan thought the fair bride was familiar. But I could also read this line as Dracula saying he has one more night with Jonathan as his captive and then afterwards the brides can do as they please, as opposed to some kind of regular taking turns, long-standing feeding arrangement. Much to think about either way, both options are pretty bad.
June 30th
- Jonathan hitting Dracula in the head with a shovel 😭😭
- It’s also interesting that Dracula appears much younger now. I think Jonathan is a little vague on the topic but it sounds like Dracula drank from him in the night aka “tonight is mine” from the previous day’s entry. Which suggests that either he hasn’t drank from him before, or if he has it’s been smaller quantities. Could be he’s willing to be more reckless about amount now because Jonathan’s not meant to be long for this world lol. Though Jonathan hasn’t been complaining of any blood loss related physical weakness either. Could be Dracula’s change in appearance has more to do with sleeping in the soil?
July 1st
- Renfield’s first instance of fly eating rip
- It’s very funny of Seward to say “He has evidently some deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little note-book in which he is always jotting down something,” in his own journal.
July 8th
- I always wonder at the longer times between entries. What made Stoker skip ahead? It’s interesting to consider
- I also love that Seward, who presumably has many patients, has just fixated on this one dude. Like it doesn’t seem like an ordinary professional way to go about things, I think he’s just fixated because he’s heartbroken and dejected and wants to poke this guy with a stick to see what happens
July 18th
- THE DEMETER MY BELOVED I adore this section as a self contained horror story. The concept of being trapped on open water with a monster and nowhere to run is so fucked it. The opening is fairly sad because the captain’s just like “okay I think we have a stowaway that’s spooking people, it’s weird but whatever.” He has no idea how bad it’s going to get oof
July 19th
- The famous kitten line! I love Renfield so much. I am wondering how he’s actually keeping his animals though. We’re told that he captures flies, spiders, then birds, but how? Do they just stay for the promise of food?
July 20th
- Seward’s absolute lack of response to Renfield most likely having eaten or at least killed his sparrows is wild.
- “It would almost be worth while to complete the experiment.” Literally why Seward.
- I also love that he has a full on Hannibal Lector moment, turning the fairly wild topic of Renfield attempting to cumulatively absorb lives and how he’s tallying that to his own heartbreak and situation with Lucy. Like. I don’t think these two things are that similar buddy.
- “If I only could have as strong a cause as my poor mad friend there—a good, unselfish cause to make me work—that would be indeed happiness.” The monkey’s paw curls 😬
July 22nd
- I like the momentary respite aboard the Demeter. Where there’s the suggestion that maybe it’s not going to be that bad. Maybe Dracula’s just going to sleep for the majority of the way without causing too much destruction. (Which, obviously the answer is “no”)
July 24th
- The Demeter is basically just playing a long game of Werewolf. (or….. Among Us….)
- I also really like the, unintentional, juxtaposition between the frightened Demeter log and Mina’s very calm and cheerful entry.
July 26th
- Once again that element of “oh you have no idea how bad things are going to get” lends the entry so much dread. I wish we could see the letter Jonathan had sent though.
July 27th
- Lucy’s sleepwalking is very interesting because the juxtaposition of the Demeter logs make it very easy to keep track that Dracula isn’t even there yet. So I wonder if it’s just ordinary sleep walking, or idk maybe they can all sense the malevolent pall he’s bringing with him or something lol and it’s affecting her.
July 28th
- I love the general air of distress and how you can’t even tell what’s exactly Dracula’s fault. Everyone’s miserable and on edge regardless.
July 29th
- The very brief entries every day are so interesting because it really highlights how much time is passing and the growing panic aboard the Demeter.
July 30th
- The captain thinking they made it 😭😭
August 1st
- It’s such an interesting juxtaposition between the doom and gloom of the Demeter (once again) and Lucy and Mina’s fairly morbid conversation with Mr Swales. I wonder if the theme of pretty lies on tombstones (or I suppose after death) covering up a more sordid truth is going to come up again. It’s been awhile since I’ve read the novel in full and I don’t remember deception playing a huge part. Though it could be a metaphor for vampirism itself, where later when Lucy becomes one herself, she’s finally going to look healthy and whole despite being a monster? Idk!
August 2nd
- It’s such a slow and agonizing death for the Captain and the remaining what… one? crew member aboard the Demeter. They keep being picked off one by one, and they honestly might as well already be dead. They know there’s nothing saving them.
August 3rd
- Honestly so sad that the captain thinks it was his first mate that’s been killing people! Like no he’s telling the truth! There’s a vampire on board!
- I think Lucy’s odd behavior must already be altered by Dracula. There’s too much attention drawn to it and it’s too bizarre.
August 4th
- I loooove how the fear and dread is being built up around Dracula. It’s such a good way to make sure your villain is fucking terrifying. The captain only just seeing him for the first time and then not again is such a good moment.
August 6th
- Mina’s conversation with Mr Swales is so good. The way it opens on a fairly poignant note about death and not being afraid of it. And then the very sudden ominous shift. I think him looking to the horizon, and the sea, and claiming that death is on its way is honestly much more effective having already read the Demeter’s log entries. Very much the Hitchcock school of building suspense.
(Though even without the extra context, there’s been enough foreboding in Mina’s entries, and everything we already know from Jonathan’s that it still works in a different way. The fear of the unknown angle of the approaching ship’s description and how there’s clearly something up with it.)
August 8th
-“The searchlight followed her, and a shudder ran through all who saw her, for lashed to the helm was a corpse, with drooping head, which swung horribly to and fro at each motion of the ship.” I FORGOT ABOUT THIS?? WHY DID DRACULA DO THAT
- The Demeter’s entrance is so good though. I love it so much. One of my most favorite parts of the book.
- Okay I get the impression, because of the crucifix, that the captain must have tied himself to the wheel, maybe for fear of letting go in his sleep.
- I think there’s likely some sort of thematic significance to everyone immediately talking of who gets to claim the wreckage? Something something parasitic, even predatory behavior, drawing some sort of similarity to vampires? There is also the fact that it’s likely a cursed prize; the only thing we know for certain is onboard is Dracula and the crates of dirt that preserve his immortality. Alternatively, there’s the rather ominous mention that the property is “held in a dead hand,” which could certainly apply to Dracula himself and tie into the metaphor of a parasitic nobility/ruling class.
August 9th
- Incredibly wild to hear about the SPCA in a victorian novel, similar to the mention of the Salvation Army in an earlier entry
- It’s also hysterical the goodwill and concern these people have for the dog. That’s Dracula!
August 10th
- Oh noooo Mr Swales! I forgot he died!
- “Lucy is so sweet and sensitive that she feels influences more acutely than other people do.” are… are you saying Lucy is an empath?
- “Lucy is asleep and breathing softly. She has more colour in her cheeks than usual, and looks, oh, so sweet. If Mr. Holmwood fell in love with her seeing her only in the drawing-room, I wonder what he would say if he saw her now.” ……Mina…. that’s gay.
August 11th
- The eeriness is so well done! It’s also so interesting to consider how the 1992 altered this scene. I’m comparing the book to it both because it includes the most number of 1:1 scenes, where other adaptations tend to fudge things even more, and also because I’m listening to the soundtrack while I read, so I’m thinking of it more lol
- “Lucy always wakes prettily, and even at such a time, when her body must have been chilled with cold, and her mind somewhat appalled at waking unclad in a churchyard at night, she did not lose her grace.” Mina…. you have some realizations you need to come to
- I also really like Mina thinking the telltale bite marks on Lucy’s throat were from her hastily using a safety pin to fasten a shawl lol.
August 12th
- “Seeing from his violent demeanor that he was English” 😭😭😭😭
- I did have a visceral reaction to hearing about Sister Agatha though. As chill as she is in the book, the name gives me BBC Dracula war flashbacks.
August 13th
- The bat!!! Poor Mina’s just like eh whatever anyway
- It’s very interesting though that Dracula makes a beeline for Lucy (and by extension Mina) I don’t think he particularly has reason to? Is it sheer coincidence?
#Ive been just adding to this incredibly long draft as I read lol#I’m so sorry it’s not letting me add a read more break#dracula#dracula daily#dracula spoilers#see how many times I will repeat interesting in one post#i ramble sometimes#long post
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
hate to be a hater on the main … but this season of ted lasso excels (once again) at team dynamic and the found family elements and i think the finale absolutely nailed that, i cried, i laughed, it was perfect on that. now as for the individual stories and relationships… yeah, let’s leave it at that
#(rant below ignore me)#i think making longer episodes allowed them to add stories that felt so pointless to me#what was the point of zava? to make jamie understand something about himself? could have done that better with just the roy plot#i would have understood roy and keeley breaking up of it was like ‘let’s both grow as individuals’#and roy kinda did but apparently not enough because his plot at the end is how he do better so i guess he didn’t#jamie had the best development only to then lose part of it by throwing the random video comment?? like why??#keeley my love … from the random friend that added nothing to the story to an undervelopped love interest plot line … they did u so dirty#why the hell was ted so emotionally off this last episode instead of actually talking the time to proper end things with london and everyone#rebecca was SOBBING and ted was like ‘well gotta go’ ??#it’s not about the ship or anything but what ?? and rebecca … love that she stayed with the club#but to have her end up with some random creepy man she met once and whose name WE DONT EVEN KNOW#i have no issues with ted going home to his son. it makes perfect sense. but it felt so weird#the nate plot was wrapped kinda poorly too??#sam colin and most of the guys from the team were amazing#and the found family and team dynamic was still amazing as always#the beard and jane relationship was always weird to me because it feels like joke after joke of.. abuse?#do they get married or was it a dream?? and if so was the whole sequence a dream? and if it wasn’t WHO DID THE CGI FOR THE WEDDING 💀#we spent more time with these characters this season and it doesn’t feel that way and idk this season felt weird at so many points#I LOVE THIS SHOW I DO!! first 2 seasons are one of my all time favourite seasons of a sitcom!! and i still enjoyed a lot about s3 <33#anyway sorry to be a hater on the main but it was just a weird season to end it on#anti ted lasso#<- i really don’t wanna upset anyone i just felt like ranting a little 💀 pls don’t hate me#ted lasso spoilers
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Spring of Sapphic Satisfaction (2023) by VBL (me)
This is a rewrite in the form of a comic strip of Radclyffe Hall's The Well of Loneliness (1928). Her novel was about the butch lesbian heroine, Stephen Gordon. The ending is really sad so I wanted to rewrite the story so Stephen got another girlfriend who stays with her. Pipah was a character who came to me to fix that.
There's a glare on the last panel because it's already framed for an art show that they do in my local community.
The mediums are pen, ink and colored pencil. I hand drew/wrote it.
#I did this in less than two days because I didn't realize the show was so soon#and my school break ends in a few days! already#the spring of sapphic satisfaction#the title is very suggestive but the comic itself almost g-rated#Pipah was a character that came to me on one of my walks#and she was like PLEASE let me be Stephen's girlfriend!!!#and I was like 'girl we are going to make this happen!'#because really the depressed butch girls make me sad#so essentially I flung Pipah at Stephen to try to fix the ending of the story- yay?#we can add Radclyffe Hall to the list of historic figures who haunts me- I don't I'll ever be normal about her sorry#my drawings#mychatter#radclyffe hall#the well of loneliness#fanart?#pen and ink#colored pencil#also they're both in their 30s if anyone cares... which was the same time that Hall started her two long term relationships#also Stephen was like 35 or something at the end of the novel any way? Pipah might be like 33 maybe?#this is what I decided to enter into the community art gallery for a local art show#sapphic#wlw#lesbian#they are both lesbians#butch/femme#femme lesbians#butch lesbians#lesbian literature#1920s#brit lit
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A code status is what you want the hospital to do if your heart or breathing stops, and we've got two basic options: full code which means we do EVERYTHING and Do Not Resuscitate or DNR which means we do less than everything. There's like little add-ons like intubated or not intubated, or blood products or no blood products, but that's basic gist of it. Do you want us to try everything we can to save your life or if your heart stops, is that it? And then we take that information and put it in your chart and make it very prominent in case we need to find it quickly in an emergency. Jane Doe, 72 years old, DNR. John Whatsisname, 49 years old, full code. Like that.
Anyway I'd like to propose a third code status that we'll call "DNR!!!" This is when you not only don't want heroic measures to extend your life, you are so excited to die. I thought of this recently when getting report on a patient, and the day nurse talking to me was like, "Alice Smith, 80 years old, DNR and she will tell you that herself." And I was like, "I don't think code status is gonna come up organically," and the nurse was like, "It won't, but she'll tell you anyway." And then I introduced myself to the patient, and like three minutes in as we're talking about pain meds, she goes, "and by the way, when I'm dead, I'm DEAD. Don't be bringing me back! Every woman in my family has lived past 90, and I'm here to break that tradition! NO one needs to live that long, and I certainly don't, and frankly it's indecent for me to have made it this far. God willing the reaper will come for me any day now. I would never take actions to make him come sooner, but I'm not moving that fast and he is DAWDLING. Disgusting. No work ethic these days. And don't bother with a grave, just chuck me out the window and let the birds at me."
And I'm like "so is that a no to the tylenol"
And she was like "oh no, I'd love some tylenol and a warm blanket too. Now look at me. I've done everything I could possibly want to do in this world and quite a few things I didn't want to do, and personally I don't think I should have to keep doing things. I'd also love a cranberry juice."
Anyway. DNR!! I'm sorry to say she made it through the night completely unscathed.
26K notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of injury, death, human trafficking.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: It was the final showdown! And you died.
A/N: We begin to wrap everything up :(
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc
You crawled back toward consciousness with the unsettling sensation of deja vu. Bright lights, pain in your abdomen, the sound of machines incessantly beeping. You tried to pull the covers over your head, but your left arm didn’t seem to want to move.
Well, that was new, anyway.
“The fuck am I in the hospital for now?” you murmured to yourself. “One miscarriage wasn’t bad enough?”
“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” came Tony’s shocked voice from your bedside. “One fucking what now?!”
You slowly opened your eyes. “Uh… hey, Boss. How’s it going?” You glanced over at Tony; he looked terrible, eyes red rimmed and puffy. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”
Tony barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? You had us all scared half to death, Kiddo. Pretty sure it took ten years off my life when word came in that Carthage fucking shot you. You know, you were clinically dead for seven whole minutes?! Longest seven minutes of my life– even longer than the Seven Minutes in “Heaven” I spent with Alice Seymour in 7th grade.” Tony shivered.
You blanched. “Seven minutes? Holy shit. I’m sorry, Tony.” You weren’t sure why you were apologizing; you hadn’t shot yourself, after all, but you still felt awful for making him worry.
Tony came to sit alongside you on the bed. “Hey,” he began, taking a hold of your hand, “you have nothing to be sorry for. At all. You warned us from the beginning that Carthage was rotten. We should have done a better job of protecting you from her. I should have done a better job of protecting you.”
“It’s not your fault, Boss,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “None of us could have realized how far gone she was until it was too late. Where is she, anyway? On a one-way trip to The Raft, I hope?”
Tony looked away from you, toward the door of your room. “Not necessary,” he said. “She’s dead.”
You sat up quickly, wincing in pain at the tugging in your abdomen as you did so.
“Easy there, Kiddo,” Tony said, helping you get upright. “You had major abdominal surgery just a few days ago; you’re gonna pull your stitches.”
You let go of Tony’s hand to gingerly prod at your stomach, flinching as you came into contact with the heavy gauze that concealed your incision. Looking back up at him, you asked: “What do you mean, ‘she’s dead,’ Tony? What the fuck happened?”
Tony cleared his throat and poured you a cup of water, as if needing to busy his hands while he considered how to go about saying what he had to tell you. “We pulled up in the Quinjet probably only a few moments after you were shot,” he said, handing the cup to you. You took it gratefully, not realizing until that moment how parched you’d been. “Barnes was holding you in his arms, just sobbing, and… God, Pocket, there was so much blood. We thought you were done. I’ve never– I’ve never seen him like that before. He wouldn’t let go of you. Cap and Point Break had to hold him off so we could get you into the jet’s onboard Cradle; he just didn’t want to be apart from you. Kept screaming it was all his fault, he should be the one who was dead instead of you. Can’t say that, in the moment, I disagreed. We ended up having to sedate him.”
As Tony spoke, bits and flashes of the event came back to you– Bucky offering himself to Jade in exchange for your life, seeing his lips on hers, the sensation of Jade’s bullet ripping through your flesh.
“Once we got you stable, we went back out and found Carthage’s body. I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened, because Barnes still won’t talk about it, but, well, her neck was snapped.”
You blinked in shock. He’d killed her, for you. When it mattered, when it truly, truly mattered, he’d picked you over her. “Wow,” was all you could get out.
“Yeah,” Tony agreed softly.
“Where is he, Boss?” you asked, looking up at him desperately. You needed to see Bucky right away, needed to thank him for saving your life, to apologize.
“I’ve, uh… I’ve been kind of keeping him away,” Tony admitted reluctantly.
“Why?!” you asked, hurt and shocked. “Why would you do that, Tony?”
Tony looked at you defensively. “Because he admitted what he did to you, Pocket. How he hurt you, again, and again. All of it. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t going to let him come near you after everything he’d done. It was his fault you were in this mess to begin with. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him. If he had stayed away from her, been faithful to you from the beginning–”
“Tony,” you interrupted, putting a hand on his forearm to stop him. “Please trust me when I tell you that the situation is a lot more complicated than it appears from the outside, okay? I’ve… I’ve seen things, things that showed me how badly she manipulated him, got into his head. I’m not saying he’s blameless,” you were quick to add when Tony opened his mouth to protest. “He’s got a lot to make up for– I know that; I’m just saying that the party who bears the most responsibility is dead. I want to see him. Please. I owe him my life.”
Tony pursed his lips as he assessed you, mulling over your words. “It’s against my better judgment,” he finally said, “but it’s your call. I’ll send him in.” He stood up, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head.
“Tony, wait!” you said, before he could go too far. “The missing women. The strip club. What happened with them?”
“You did good, Kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Once we got you outta there, we were able to retrace your location to find the Hydra base where they were keeping you and get into their files– they kept records of every woman they sold, who they sold to, and where they went. SHIELD’s already picked up several of the buyers and identified the key players based on what you’ve been able to get us. We’ve been able to recover seven of the women so far, but Nat’s optimistic we can track down even more.”
You let out a shaky exhale. Seven women, saved from trafficking, with your help. “That’s amazing, Boss,” you said.
“And as for the club, Kozlov’s been arrested on a slew of charges; don’t anticipate he’ll be breathing fresh air anytime soon. And your buddy? Dimitri? He was real happy to start cooperating with us if it meant he didn’t go down with his boss.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief, a weight being lifted off your shoulders. They weren't going to be able to hurt anyone else, you thought to yourself. You’d help make sure of that. Maybe you could make your amends to Chloe, after all.
An idea came to you then. “Boss,” you began, “how much money’s in my swear jar now?”
Tony gave you a bemused look. “Kind of a weird time to be asking about that.” He pulled up his phone and touched the screen several times before letting out a low whistle. “Well I’ll be damned, Pocket. You certainly have quite the potty mouth– there’s almost half a mil in there!”
“I’ve sworn half a million times in the last twenty months?” you asked, incredulous.
“Do you doubt it?” Tony answered, grinning.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” you said with a smile. “Do me a favor? Take that money and divide it up among the surviving women, okay? They’re gonna need resources for a fresh start.”
“That’s real generous of you, Kiddo,” Tony said, giving you a fond smile. “I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, well, I learned from the best,” you half-shrugged, grinning back at him. “Gotta pay it forward, right?”
Tony nodded, then turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” he said. “And I’ll send in Barnes."
“Thanks, Tony.”
“Oh, and if there’s one thing this entire ordeal’s taught me,” he said as he put his hand on the doorknob, “it’s that life is short. I’m gonna ask Pep to marry me.”
“Tony!” you exclaimed, delight coursing through you. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”
Tony smiled at you. “Be flattered, kiddo. You’re number two to know.” With a wink, he was out the door.
You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself. Tony Fucking Stark was finally settling down. You honestly thought you’d never live to see the day. Fuck, you almost hadn’t. You felt a dull ache in your left arm. It had been strapped down in a sling to your torso, preventing you from moving it, and you had the sinking suspicion there were probably pins holding the fracture in place. You were certainly in line for a long road to recovery.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
the ride ; skz ; chan x reader
original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis
+
original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜
pairing: bang chan/reader
content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut.
word count: 2400 words.
masterlist.
part of the valentine’s day stories series.
credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy!
-
“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says. “I called dibs.”
“Too bad.” You stick your tongue out at him. “Learn to run faster, loser.”
Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car. You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it.
You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school. You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift. With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides.
Just because of the weather. Not any other reason. Of course.
You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat. Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams. He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything.
And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side. When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness.
“Right then,” he says. Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!”
“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror. “You have your presentation notes, right? You don’t want to forget them.”
Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them. You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.
“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt. “I thought I put them in here. Sorry, I’ll be right back.”
Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan. It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it. You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt.
“Silly boy,” you say. “What should we do while he’s gone?” You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs.
Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue. He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away. He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh.
“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”
He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip. Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel. You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.
You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee. He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat. You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh.
“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real.
“Don’t—” His voice breaks and he clears his throat. “Don’t say my name like that. You know—”
“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh. You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.
He visibly swallows, throat bobbing. The redness has spread from his ears down his neck.
“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush. “We’ve been good so far, okay?” If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good. “You’re my – you’re my friend. You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah? Yeah… Yeah!” He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket. He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip. “Don’t make this so hard,” he says.
“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words. A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans. “Is it something I can help you with?” You lick your bottom lip then smile.
“Oh,” he says. His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering. “You really wanna play that game, huh?”
There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes. You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window. You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart.
Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you. Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad.
“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder. “Are you fucking my sister!”
“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second. “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”
“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing. “You can do better, man.”
“Jeongin, shut up!” You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.
“All right, all right!” Chan says, breaking you up. “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay? Okay.”
“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite.
Chan squeaks.
Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.
“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.
-
Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home. When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.
You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs. It sounds more amused than frustrated.
“Where’s your brother?” he asks.
You shrug with theatrical exaggeration.
“Right,” Chan says, starting the car. “Got it.”
He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car. That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong. You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives.
Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee. At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh.
“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road. Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent.
“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence. Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee.
Unlike this morning, he does not play nice. You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching. Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean. He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit. He never takes his eyes off the road. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand.
“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again. “We’ll see about that.”
You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you. Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie. You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him. He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness. He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful. Your body practically sings under his touch.
“Channie,” you say, breathless again.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah? Always.”
“Take care of me how?” Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too. This game has been escalating slowly over time. You want more and you are starting to get desperate.
Chan looks at you. His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie. He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again.
“Fuck,” he says. “I want to fuck you so badly. You have no idea.”
His words have a raw, honest edge. He swallows, hard. You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart.
“Please,” you say in that breathy voice. “Make me feel good. No one else can like you.”
You do not make it all the way home. There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups. Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers. You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure. It makes you both giggle.
Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.
“Mmm,” you hum against his lips. You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair. “Channie, please,” you say.
He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly. His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief.
“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest. He unzips the rest of your hoodie. His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again.
He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts. He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket. You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap. Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt.
“Let me,” he says. He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you. He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing. Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him. He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest. “Fuck, baby girl,” he says. “You know what you do to me?” he asks.
“I dunno, Channie.” You pout and bat your eyelashes. “You better show me.”
He laughs. He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you. You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you. But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good. You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan.
“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside.
“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says. His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment. “That’s it,” he says. “Have a little trust in yourself. I know you can take it.”
His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you. Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily. It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire. You know you will need him again, the way he needs you. Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again. It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you.
“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”
When he gets close, he pushes the seat back. You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth. He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name. Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest. You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation.
“Fuck,” he eventually says. He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face. “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”
“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him. He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness.
You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you. Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time. Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.
You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods.
“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”
You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads: My ride fell through. When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me? Thanks. Sluts.
#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#chan x reader#chan x you#bang chan smut#chan smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz x you#valentinesdaystories
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
dry humping simon but he’s tired :)
“hey, gorgeous.” simon says in a low tone, feeling too tired to even want to raise his voice to tell you that he’s back. he’s a workaholic, so it’s his fault that he’s feeling worn out. “hi, handsome.” you walk towards him with a smile, but he’s more quick to sit on the couch and pull you onto his lap. you chuckle quietly, wrapping your arms around his neck. you place a sweet kiss on his lips. “worked too much, huh?” you ask, caressing his cheek. he smiles softly, adjusting his position on the couch. he didn’t do it to tease you, but you’re feeling teased regardless.
“mhm.” simon mumbles with a tired sigh. he’s not even holding your waist, since he’s resting his head on his arms. he’s just breathing calmly as he stares at you with heavy eyes. you raise an eyebrow at him, noticing how distant he seems to be. he does look good, though. he’s in his usual work clothes: white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, grey dress pants, black belt. simon looks always a bit too hot when he’s wearing this combo, that’s why the two of you always fuck when he comes back from work. tonight seems to be an exception.
he notices your empty gaze on him, as if you’re waiting for him to come back to earth. “i’m beat, angel.” simon admits with a low chuckle. he sighs again, still not touching you whatsoever. “i’m sorry.” he adds with a half smile, closing his eyes for a second. you kiss his cheek, as if you’re telling him that it’s okay. “how was your day?” he breaks the silence, almost in a whisper. he’s looking at you with a genuine curiosity. a genuine care. simon finally moves one of his hands to your cheek, stroking it softly. you give him a half smile, your hands massaging his broad but tense shoulders.
he starts shaking his leg out of stress and anxiety while he’s waiting for your response. you should feel bad for him, but he’s involuntarily rubbing his thigh against you, making your body twitch in arousal with the action. your tense thighs around his bring him back to the present moment, making him sigh quietly with a slight smirk when he notices what’s going on. simon immediately stops shaking his leg, so you can settle down. “my day was…” you lick your lips, trying to focus. fuck it. you place a kiss on his neck as you grind yourself on him in a subtle, slow way, just to see if he’s in the mood or not. you don’t want to push it, obviously.
simon sighs heavily, the hand that was on your cheek goes down on your hips, squeezing it gently. you grind against his thigh again, this time you lick his neck before biting it softly. “my day was alright. i basically worked my ass off and thought about you. that’s all.” you say in a breathy chuckle next to his ear, making him sigh in pleasure again. “oh, yeah?” he pretends to be shocked as he starts moving your hips against him in a less slow pace. you bite your lip to hold back a moan, nodding stupidly. “tell me more…” simon says in a low, breathy tone. you keep looking into his tired eyes. he leans in to kiss you slowly, using his tongue to make you even more breathless.
his hand leaves your hips to wrap around your neck gently, pulling you even more close to him. “are you deaf, sweet girl? i believe i told you to tell me more about it.” simon breaks the kiss to mock at you in a low, serious tone. his lips are almost touching yours. you’re breathing heavily as you roll your eyes. “i-i don’t remember, baby. just let me do this…” you mutter as you keep grinding a bit harder against him. simon groans quietly, looking down at the mess you’re making on his work pants. he just now realized that you’ve been wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your black laced panties all along. he smirks, freeing your neck from his grip as he grabs the hem of the shirt to pull it slightly up, taking a good look at you.
“you’re so spoiled, princess. maybe i should stop fucking you every night after work, it’s messing with your head.” he mumbles in a strangled tone, still staring at the trace of wetness on his pants. you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but they end up dripping from your glossy lips like honey. he chuckles. “you know i’ll always give you the attention that you deserve, right? so keep grinding on me like this…” simon’s tone is gentle as he kisses your cheek, resting his head on both of his arms again, letting you do all the work. suddenly, you get shy, so you kiss him to make him stop looking at you.
simon quickly breaks the kiss to laugh at you. “come on, sweetheart, cum on me. i’m tired.” he rushes you and you almost open your mouth in disbelief. “i-i’m doing this for you.” you reply, a bit offended. he raises an eyebrow, laughing again, clearly mocking at you. “you’re so cute when you lie, babe. you know damn well that you’re doing this for your pleasure, only. you don’t give a fuck if i’m tired or not, you’re just a needy spoiled girl that can’t sleep before getting fucked real nice by her boyfriend.” he clicks his tongue, his tone a bit harsh and annoyed.
“now be a good girl for once and finish what you’ve started, i need to sleep.” simon grabs your jaw, kissing your lips. his voice is soft and breathy, as if he’s saying sorry for being mean to you, but at the same time, he’s secretely telling you that he’s enjoying this. he just loves the way you constantly need to be taken care of, and you love the way he always takes care of you, he just can’t help it. that’s why you’re a proud spoiled girl — he’s a proud provider.
#call of duty#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley angst#simon riley fluff#simon riley smut#simon riley x y/n#simon ghost riley smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
something really short cause i have nothing else. könig nsfw
just imagine a situation where you’re forced to sit on könig’s lap because there’s less room than needed on the small military aircraft due to a field emergency, so you opt for his space because he’s the closest person to you out of the bunch and not to mention the largest, kindest, most comfortable looking one. he’s so hesitant at first but it’s all kept internal because he could never say no to you, let alone stand to watch you on another man’s lap for the next two hours. he begins to question if he prioritized the correct things, however, when he ultimately fails at suppressing his hard-on after just barely managing for the first half hour of the flight.
you feel his dick practically digging into your ass through the multiple layers of cargo pants, and he knows his prayers for discretion have gone unanswered when you adjust your hips against his lap. the feel of it surprises you—you want to laugh, why now?—but the entire concept of it does not come as a shock; it only nourishes the given cockiness in you. you’d have to be a blind mutt not to notice the way he looks at you, shying away when he thinks you’ve caught him staring. silly guy. the hood doesn’t hide all, könig.
“scheiße, du schweinehund,” he breathes defeatedly to himself, eyes squeezed shut in humility. he’s the only mutt here, really. he can’t imagine how pink his cheeks have gone, except for the fact that they feel like they’ve been repeatedly grazed by a blowtorch you hold. he musters up a straight voice, yet his words just barely break past a whisper; “…forgive me.” he grits his teeth and bites his tongue, “gott—i am not in the correct headspace right now, i-i am so sorry.”
you giggle that same laugh that had his knees threatening to buckle in on most days. “it’s okay, könig, really,” you tell him, so convincing and so sweet that he has no choice but to believe it to be true. still, he’s beyond mortified. you hum after a few seconds, “more than okay.” he sucks in a sharp breath. you don’t need to see him to know what sort of affect you’re having on him, arms crossed over your chest while his are unsteady and sweaty at his sides. he’s so awkward, it’s adorable.
like this, you can truly absorb all of him like you never could on an average day; he’s soft spoken off the field and with a deeper drawl, and far more reserved. that manly, post-mission musk of his, apparent through the close proximity, is only insanely attractive. and he’s just so. fucking. big. you lean further back against his frame, head resting on his broad shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating at his ribs against your upper back. with everyone else chatting amongst themselves or already deep into their sleep, you wouldn’t mind teasing him a bit.
“i actually think it’s really cute,” you add, with another slight of a giggle, of course. “and hot.” you bite and bite and he groans so lowly every time, something almost of a broken whimper, you’d say. you wiggle your hips a bit, not terribly noticeable to the outside world but he swears your every action comes with a bite of an aphrodisiac. you smirk and he hears it, right past the nonchalance in your voice; “and quite impressive, i’d say.”
you hear a whine die in his throat—it’s fucking whorish, and needy—along with another swear, and in an instant, you’ve made up your mind to take him out of the public eye once you land and show him just how impressive he really is.
#cod mw2#könig#könig x reader#könig x fem reader#könig x female reader#könig smut#könig mw2#könig cod
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.
Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.
Tav needs a hug :,)
a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.
You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.
But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.
It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.
You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.
Gods.
You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.
It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.
“Are you alright, darling?”
You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”
He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”
You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.
But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.
“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”
You finally look at him.
“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”
Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.
“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”
Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.
“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.
It’s like a breath of fresh air.
“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.
“…not now.”
“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”
You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”
“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”
#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion#bg3 x reader#fluff#bg3
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
take-me-to-the-woods-and-leaf-me
I Miss The Woods
liveinabandon
The Garden.
burkesguidetodnd
Burke's Guide to D&D
periodyuki
*BunRetsu*