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awakenedevildays · 2 days

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「bleachers and interruptions」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

You can find the other parts here!

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"For how long are you planning to stare at her, Donaldson?" Tashi approaches Art while he is busy looking at you in the stands, a book in your hand as you wait "for Tashi" to finish her training.

"w-what?" he detaches his eyes from you and your friend wants to laugh at the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face, a clean tennis shirt in his hands waiting to be worn.

Tashi stands in front of him, the smirk on her face growing wider by the second, her hands on her hips "Donaldson, I can smell your desperation from miles away" he avoids her gaze and turns around to take off his shirt and put it in his tennis bag along his racket, but Tashi stands in front of him again "she told me about what happened at the beach" she adds and smirks, Art stops in his tracks at that 'fuck, she knows' he takes advantage of slipping on his unstained t-shirt to hide his red cheeks from your best friend.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about you and Patrick, Tash?" his eyes look down to fix his shirt that looks so ruffled to him right now, "don't worry about me and Patrick, but I have to worry about you two idiots for obvious reasons" Art looks at her confused and waits for her to explain.

Tashi moves her hand up to pat his shoulder, her smirk fading away and giving way to a small smile.

"She's a wonderful person you know? She deserves all the love in the world and I know you've got plenty to give... so don't keep her on the hook for too long" she takes her bag.

"What do you mean?" He frowns, keeping you on the hook? he tought you had changed your mind, considering you didn't approach him not even once after the night at the beach.

Tashi takes one glance at you, and then back to the blond in front of her.

"She's waiting for you to make a move, Art. She's really shy and not really good at these kind of things..." Tashi's gaze flickers at you again... "If she wasn't interested you think she would have come to watch you almost every training day?".

He wants to laugh at that, 'she didn't look shy at the beach' he thinks but doesn't say it out loud "she comes here for me? I thought she's here to see you!" he exclaims.

Tashi can't stop the smile forming on her lips at his outburst, the disbelief in his voice clear as day.

"You can't be that naive, can you?" Tashi teases, her tone lighthearted now, having gone from teasing to trying to comfort him. "Sure, some days she might come here for me, but it's mostly for you, I can assure you, I'm just an added bonus" Tashi concludes and Art feels so stupid, he should've at least tried to talk to you.

"oh..."

Tashi sees his expression change slightly, realization beginning to dawn on him, so she rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder, smiling at him knowingly "don't beat yourself up too much about it, Art. It's never too late to fix your mistake. Believe me, she's really into you... but Art, there are few people I care about more than I care about tennis, and Y/N is one of them, if you hurt her in any way-" Tashi pushes her index finger into his chest, her grin growing devious once again, "-I'll castrate you, then you definitely won't be able to charm her anymore with only your stupid blond curls, understood?" "yes m'am." he answers immediately.

Tashi laughs, finding his quick response both amusing and endearing, her hand moving to ruffle his blond hair. "That's more like it, Donaldson. Keep her safe and you won't have too worry about keeping your body intact. I'm sure you're more than capable of that"

Tashi goes to the changing rooms and Art turns around towards you again, only to see you already looking at him and he smiles widely, now that he knows you didn't change your mind about him, and that's surprising considering the story he told you, he feels like he can actually talk to you without blushing like the teenager he still is.

You blush slightly as he looks at you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your heart skips a beat when he flashes that winning smile of his. How he was able to be both endearing and incredibly handsome at the same time was beyond you, but the sight of his bright blue eyes and the way his blonde hair was swept to the side from the light wind was enough to make your breath hitch.

His hand goes up in greeting and you wave back, book now closed and he sign for you to stay there as he walks out of the tennis camp, his steps fast almost in a run and you laugh 'he is so cute' you think. A few minutes later he is next to you on the bleachers.

As he approaches, you can't help but look carefully at his face, a bead of sweat running down his temple form the training he just finished, you curse internally as you feel yourself growing a bit hotter when his arm flexes to let his tennis bag fall on the ground next to him.

Art sits down next to you, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning to you, a cheeky grin on his face.

"hey"

"hi..."

You both giggle for realizing how awkward this moment is.

Art runs his hand through his hair, trying to tame the damp strands and make himself look at least a little bit presentable. "Sorry for this" he pauses for a moment, a smirk coming to his lips, "although I think you kinda like it" you laugh 'fuck, he noticed'.

"Oh shut up, I didn't come here for you" you lie, your cheeks slightly red in fear of being caught "oh, really? a little bird told me otherwise..." he suggests and you would really like the ground to open and swallow you, you bite your lips "I'm going to kill her" you mumble under your breath and Art laughs as he sits down next to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He gazes intently at you, a slight smirk on his lips, "please don't, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her" you frown at his words and seeing your confused expression he keeps going.

"I thought you weren't interested in me anymore, after that night" his smile is sheepish, "the next day, when you and Tashi came to watch the final between me and Patrick you didn't talk to me at all and... I don't know, I felt like I fucked up" his hand goes through his hair, a bit embarrassed to reveal his insecurities to you so soon and you want to slap yourself "Art... no you got it all wrong".

Art blinks in confusion for a moment, his expression changing into a mixture of surprise and relief "so you weren't avoiding me?" he asks, turning his head to peer closely into your eyes, searching for any sign to confirm his words.

"No! well, yes... but it's not cause I wasn't interested in you, the total opposite actually, I'm really bad at these things I didn't know what to do or say" you admit and play around with the cover of the book still on your lap.

Art couldn't help but laugh a little bit at your confession, "If it's any consolation, I think you're doing just fine right now."

He pauses for a moment, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his blue eyes shining with warmth.

"You could've just told me then, you know?" and he could have done that too.

"I know... I'm sorry" you whine hiding your face in your hands and he rests his left hand on the back of your chair, his body facing you while he waits for you to look at him again "don't be, I could have tried harder too" he comforts you and you look at him again, a sweet smile on his face.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling the tension start to dissipate between you "guess we both messed up then" you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the realization of just how much time you wasted because of your mutual shyness.

"But we stil have time to solve this, if you want to, of course" you're nodding even before he can finish the sentence.

Art can't contain his excitement as he sees you enthusiastically nodding your head. He lifts his hand and rests his palm on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin "I take that as a yes, then?" he asks, a playful smile on his lips, the thumb on your cheek now tracing the outline of your lips.

"mh-mh" you say unconsciously your eyes locked in his.

Art continues tracing his thumb across your lips, his touch light and almost teasing, feeling your gaze on him, he lifts his eyes to look into yours, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You look so cute when you're all blushing and flustered" he whispers, leaning a bit closer to your face.

"You talk like you're not in the same position as I am" Art laughs softly, his breath mingling with yours, he leans in closer, the smile on his lips widening as he sees you start to fidget slightly.

"Not like it's a bad thing though, right?" he whispers, his hand moving from your cheek to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head up slightly.

"absolutely not" you whisper and just when your lips are about to touch a voice interrupts the moment "Hey! the camps are closing you have to get out" the coach calls out with a small smirk and Art turns around to look at him embarrassed, ears and cheeks red "sorry coach! we're leaving".

The coach gives a knowing chuckle before heading out again, leaving you and Art to recover from the interruption.

You can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at the coach's interruption, ok, that was embarrassing you put your book back into your bag before sliding it on your shoulder.

Art lets out a small sigh before reluctantly getting up from the bench helping you too by grabbing your hand "sorry about that, the coach has the worst timing" he wants to strangle him, really.

"Don't worry, he is right" you say and he starts to guide you towards the stairs to get out.

Art feels his muscles relax as soon as the cool night breeze hits his skin, he's still hot and sweaty from the training, he glances at you "that was a good session, wasn't it? even with the interruption" he jokes as he looks around, noticing the sun slowly setting behind the trees, lighting the sky in a beautiful shade of pink and orange.

"you did good, I really like to watch you ad Tashi play" you ignore his real intentions and decide to talk about the training itself, you really like to tease him.

Art can't help but let out a small laugh at your response "so that is the only reason why you come to see our trainings? To watch me play?" he quips, his tone light and teasing as he nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

"I already told you Donaldson, I come to see Tashi play, not for you" you taunt again and Art shakes his head in false disbelief, his tone still playful and light "right, how could I forget. Just for Tashi, of course".

He playfully rolls his eyes, his shoulder slightly touching yours as you walk next to him.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you can't compete with her" and Art stops on his track a fake shocked expression on his face and you tug on his hand still connected to yours to walk through the campus and towards the dorms.

Art puts a hand over his heart and lets out a mock gasp. "How could you" he says before starting to follow you again, a cheeky smile on his lips as he glances in your direction.

As you both make your way towards the dorms, Art can't help but feel contentment at the sight of your hands connected together, swinging naturally alongside you while you walk. You two stay in comfortable silence until you are in front of your dorm room and your hand detaches from his to grab your key, Art stands behind you, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for you to turn back to him.

You unlock the door, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you turn to face him again. Art is still standing close, his eyes fixed on you with a warm smile on his handsome features, he takes a step closer, now leaning against the wall next to your door.

The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle glow on him, his blond hair slightly disheveled and he looks so incredibly handsome that you find your breath hitching in your throat

'what should I do now?' you ask yourself as you smile at him, but before you could open your mouth to speak, he does first "not that I don't like to meet you like this, but what would you think about a date? with me, of course" he mentally facepalms himself, 'was it really necessary to add that?' Art feels a faint blush color his cheeks as you laugh at his awkward addition.

He rubs the back of his neck, still smiling sheepishly "sorry, I just wanted to be clear about it, didn't want you to think I was planning a date between you and Tashi" he jokes as he lets out a small laugh of his own, the embarrassment fading away as he sees that you don't seem to mind his blunder.

"But yes, I would love to take you on a date" he says with a more confident tone, his eyes shimmering with excitement at the thought.

"I would love to" Art is filled with contentment as he sees your excitement. He runs his hand through his hair a small smile forms on his lips as he gazes at you, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

"How about tomorrow night? There's this nice restaurant near that I've been wanting to try" he suggests, his voice filled with nerves but anticipation as well.

"Tomorrow is great" you step closer when you see Art bending towards you "good, I'll pick you up tomorrow night at seven" you nod.

As you confirm the time for your date, he can't help but smile wider, the excitement coursing through his veins, he gazes into your eyes for a moment, savoring the anticipation building between you.

"I can't wait" he whispers, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of nerves, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on your forehead "I'll see you tomorrow" "goodnight, Art".

As you watch Art, his handsome features bathed in the soft light of the hallway, he smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Goodnight" he says softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he sees you close the door slower than necessary, as if you don't want the moment to end just yet.

"Sweet dreams" he whispers after you close the door, shoulders lighter now that he finally has a real chance with you and the smile on his face doesn't leave until he is asleep in his bed.

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Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers

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ohwaitimthewriter · 15 hours

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The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.3k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #fanfiction #noa x human reader #noa x reader #pota #kotpota #oc/reader

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queenothegeeks · 2 days

Text

Creator with coping mechanisms

part 2! Part one can be found here (pls let me know if the link doesn’t work I’m doing this on my phone and I’m d y i n g)

Even the creator gets stressed, so, how do you relax?

A creator who cooks or bakes to deal with stress

After a very stressful day of meeting important dignitaries and public figures, you felt like settling down, reading a recipe or making something from memory to remind you of home. Maybe you have music playing in your head or maybe it’s just empty, feeling comfortable doing something you love

Maybe giving the food you make to other characters in the game, or you hand them out to random people, like kids from the house of the hearth. Or maybe you just sit and eat it all for yourself (which, is valid, bc tbh I don’t want anyone else eating my food)

Hey (insert character)! I made too much of this and I was wondering if you wanted some! I hope you like it!

Hey Timme, I'm really sorry for scaring away all the birds, but I made an extra loaf of bread for you to feed them with, is that okay?

Creator who writes stories or fanfiction as a coping mechanism (me)

Finding it hard to sit down and write, even though you really want to. Maybe it's the environment or the people that you are with, but once you get into the zone, the world just disappears.

Maybe you write the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed, with found family and just silly moments with your characters (oc or not), or perhaps you write the saddest things known to god that make even the most heartless of characters cry

“Are you…are you crying”

(sniff, sniff) NO! Maybe…”

“Are you okay? Why are you crying”

“I stole-borrowed your notebook because I was worried about you (they wanted more intel or smt idk) and I started reading it. And it's really sad WHY ARE YOU WRITING SUCH SAD STUFF?”

“WHY ARE YOU READING MY NOTEBOOK!?”

A creator who embroiders to relax (don't @ me pls i've never embroidered)

You didn't tell anyone about it, knowing that someone would try to convince you to make business out of it (probs Dori) but after you had to ask for a few bandages after you poked your hand on your needle, the cat was out of the bag.

“But we could sell it for a ton! We could even send a few things to museums! …if you want ig”.

“Thanks, I'm good…”

“Why not!?”

(Don't threaten them with needle Dont threaten them with needle Don’t threaten them with needle-)

Or if you get lucky, maybe they just ask you to make them something instead of making a glorified pyramid scheme.

“Can you make something for me?”

“You should work with Chiori!”

“Can you embroider me!?”

… Yeah maybe this isn't much better.

Chaos demon! (Arson with klee 2.0!)

“Are they okay..?”

“Let them have this”

“Sir, their grace is setting everything on fire”

“Its fine”

Let me know if I missed any habits in the comments! Remember, if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn’t.

#sagau #sagau brainrot #the brainrot is real #genshin impact sagau #creator au sagau

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wonton4rang · 2 days

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i love u 3000 ¡!

pairing: sungho x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, fluff, some angst maybe, kissing.

summary: short scenarios of firsts with sungho.

note: this will be a series!! hope u all enjoy<33 find the others here as i make them (woonhak and sungho done)

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first encounter: idk if it would be at a cafe or at the gym but I'll go for the cafe because i feel like he would be too into his workout to actually pay attention to his surroundings and see you. so he'd be thinking what to order, looking up at the menu while he stood in the line, you were in front of him and he didn't even see your face but the way you smelled and the way your voice said "i want a caramel macchiato, please, with no sugar" was enough for him to feel as if the sweetness you opted out surrounded him instead and he melt right into it, following you with his eyes when you left the line and yours meeting his when everyone kept telling him to move forward in the line. he finally came to his senses and you laughed at his little blush due to the shame. you can know for sure he would ask to sit with you and launch a conversation about how he zoned out before, ending with your number in his pocket, wrote down on a paper tissue and a huge smile in his face while he walked down the street.

first time he realises he's in love; honestly he knew from the beginning that he liked you, the way he would look for you in his contact list just to see your profile picture setting him up, even if it was the same one. he would even "mistakenly" call you at least twice a week just so he could hear your voice and ultimately your laugh when you said "was this really a mistake, sungho-ssi" and he just went silent before you added "you can call me if you wanna talk, i don't mind" bet. cause he would call you everyday just to ask how you were doing and if there was anything that you may need so he could get it for you. the first day you guys went out was when he finally realized he kinda liked you a little bit more than he expected, looking at you with such a lover eyes that the old people passing by your side kept saying "he loves you so much, don't break his heart". an indirect confession i guess.

how would he confess; kinda obvious (at least for me) but he is wearing the best clothes on his closet, his hair done perfectly, that soft perfume you loved all over his body and that smile on his face only growing bigger when he handed you the bucket of flowers, "what is this, sungho?" , "i would like to ask you out, if you let me. i promise to make you nothing but happy if you allow me" it sounded like a marriage proposal but that's just how serious he was. you said yes, why would you say no? it was sungho and his pretty foxy eyes waiting for your response, the boy who never had an excuse when you needed him and the one who cared for you the most, y'all already looked like you were dating to begin with so now it was just official!!

officially dating w sungho; something i know for sure is that he is such a domestic boyfriend :(( you could find him helping out with the chores at YOUR apartment, doing the dishes and even the laundry while you slept during the morning. he would hold your hand at any moment, hug you while walking on the streets during winter time even if it was uncomfortable, tell you how grateful he was by having you. he would remember all your anniversaries and bring you flowers each time, every time being a different one just so he could tell you the meaning and how much he loved you and hoped for more anniversaries to come. i think he'd also be the type to introduce you to his friends and his family as he sees your relationship as a long-term one.

first kiss; idk why i feel it'd happen at one of your guy's house, like, you are laying down on bed, just cuddling and talking your day, your head resting on his chest and his arm hugging you, giving you the warmth the weather lacked. you were so comfortable with him that even looking up and being so close was not awkward, that's why you did it when he went silent for a few seconds.

"what are you thinking about?" you would mumble and he lowered his eyes to meet yours, making you blush when he just smiled a little bit before saying:

"you"

"i am right here, what were you thinking?"

"about how cute you are, how much i love you and how lucky of man i am to have you and had met you in this life"

"honey... i love you too" you softly giggled and he blushed after saying all that cheesy stuff, you removing the hand from his face and matching his eyes, feeling his breath hitch when his eyes dropped to your lips.

and he really didn't have to ask, he just leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, you both closing your eyes and shifting in the bed so he was on top of you, between your legs while he softly caressed your cheeks, staying like that for a little while before pulling out and looking into each other's eyes, gosh you guys are so in love :(

first time he wanted to do more than just a peck; it would happen during a movie night, you always got together at your place to wach a movie or a short serie on fridays, buying some junk food when neither you or sungho wanted to cook. you would sit in your couch, your leg between sungho's and one of his hands on your thigh while you payed attention to whatever was playing on the tv, but when you constantly feel him moving below your leg, his hand making some pressure in the uncovered flesh of your thigh, you had to look at him.

"everything good, babe?"

"yes... i'm just... you know"

"no, i don't" you said, pausing the tv and removing your leg from his lap so you could sit properly and look at him. "is something going on?" he just denied with his head but by the way he lowered his head, his cheeks flushed and his hands held that cushion in front of his pants you knew what was going on. "can i kiss you then?" his eyes met yours again. "i wanna kiss you"

but sungho really didn't want to seem like a pervert right now so he would try to say no just to end up with you straddled on his lap, kissing him with hunger and circling your hips on his erection, his tongue would get into your mouth and he'll take control from then on, his hands guiding the pace and movement of your hips by holding down on them. a few moans would escape his lips and tbh he couldn't be more ashamed to be making out w u for the first time due to a boner. but oh well, it was not going to be the last time either.

first time meeting your family; when i say "sungho domestic boyfriend" I mean it!! he would be so excited to finally meet your parents, you met his a few months ago so he couldn't wait to meet the people who gave birth to the love of his life :( he would bring food and help your mom cook it, asking about your childhood and making a few jokes when your mom got too emotional about you being all grown up. i feel like your dad would love him even if they don't have much to talk about, he would see his good intentions and the kind and lovely vibe he gave would make both of your parents love him sm !! i can personally see him calling your mom every mother's day, and your dad too on every father's day, sending them flowers and a present for their birthdays too. he is just such a family boy to me ;(

first time w sungho; when i pictured this i almost got an overdose of sugar fr fr. he would be so loving, so caring, so soft about it, i don't even see him using dirty talk (at least not for the first time). he would worship your body so much that it would make you feel shy yet so good you couldn't explain the mixture of feelings, his kisses would be long and wet, his hips rocking against yours during missionary (because yes, he would fuck you in missionary 99% of the time) and his hands holding your wrists pinned down to the bed on each side of your bed. "you look so pretty, y/n, you feel so good" would be something he would say when he left your lips for a second, looking into your eyes before smiling a little bit about how into you he was (pun intended). he would also be the type to softly moan in your ear and intertwine his fingers with yours while fucking you so good :(( and i also see him using his tongue to make you shiver, could be by kissing you or by playing with your ear.

overall, sungho is a good boy, he is mature and very loving, he seeks honesty and stability so if he ever falls for you, have in mind that he would like to be with you for as long as he can. he is a funny person too, making jokes to enlighten the mood when needed but also knows when to remain silent. his mood wouldn't have huge swings and i don't think he would be one to argue or be jealous. (he could get jealous tho but he'll let you know about it before it gets uncomfortable)

commitment wise he is a 10/10, his full attention is on you when you need him, i think he wouldn't cheat and he is such a lover boy :') but he would expect the same back so if you lack he would feel a little sad too.

so if you are looking for a long-term, marriage oriented and responsible, respectful, honest yet funny relationship, sungho is definitely your pick !!

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also, can we talk about those pictures of him???? he looks so pretty, dazzling, cute yet hot asf?? make it make sense, he can't be a gym bro and look that good 😭😭

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor smut #sungho x reader #boynextdoor sungho #sungho smut

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xyvyl · 2 days

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One More Race - Chapter 2 - Lando

Summary: New to formula 1, Dutch driver Y/N L/N. F2 and F3 world champion, now racing for Lamborghini in F1. The only woman racing in F1 right now.

Chapter song: Born to die - Lana Del Rey

Word count: 1358

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2iH7vTDNnObb2HMBDuRhrY?si=9ec8ffb7ec164637

Taglist: @the-holy-trinity-I @laura-naruto-fan1998 @hiireadstuff @assholeinatrenchcoat @itsjustkhaos

A/N: taglist open! also, i wrote most of this at midnight, so please do let me know if i made any mistakes!

“And that's Y/N out!”

“Y/N crashed! Will she ever recover?”

“And the dutch Lamborghini driver is out!”“OH! That must've hurt! L/N is out!”

It hurt hearing those messages, seeing the yellow and red flags around the track, it hurt seeing her so upset.

She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Logan.. It's just been radio silence..

“Lando! Are you coming or not? I can't do this on my own.” I look up, Logans shouting pulling me out of whatever headspace I was in.

I nod and quickly get up from the bench I was on.

“Are we really kicking the door in? It's a hotel, we can just go down to the reception..” I grimace at the thought of what the team and hotel managers will have to say about us kicking down Y/N’s door…

“We'll pay for it, it's just a damn door. And Y/N is more important than that right? She let the comments get to her! Have you not seen the comments?-” “I’ve seen the damn comments! I have not seen Y/N! But that doesn't mean I'll just break down her hotel door!” Logan notices my obvious frustration and nods.

“Fine, we'll go get a room key..” He mutters and turns promptly around to the elevator.

For a moment I'm shocked he actually listened to me, so far, when it's about Y/N, he wouldn't listen to me. I know he's her teammate, but that doesn't stop me from being her best friend on the grid..

Best friend… a term I've grown to hate when it's about Y/N…

“This was your idea! Let's go or I'm actually kicking the door in!” Logan once again shakes me out of my daze and I quickly walk to the elevator.

“Coming.. Coming…” I mumble as I click the button to go to the lobby.

“She shut me out.. Only speaking to her engineer and no one else..” Logan whispers as I nod in response. “She shut me out too.. The comments were horrible, I can only imagine what dms she's received.. The car is made for her, yet she's fighting it with her life.. If she continues this she might actually lose her life..”

We both sigh as my words sink in.

When we arrive at the lobby, I rush to the reception and asks for a room key to Y/N’s room.

“Could we please hurry this up?” I try my best not to rush the receptionist, but I can't help it, Y/N is on the line here..

The receptionist nods and I feel a hand on my shoulder, turning around I see it's Logan, who looks at me with a worried expression.

I watch as his hand moves down to mine, prying my hand open.. Now I notice that I've been digging my nails into my palms, creating small wounds on them.

“Sorry.. Guess I'm stressed, we don't know what we'll find in her room…” I mutter as I take the room key from the receptionist's hand.

Logan nods silently as we walk back to the elevator.

The elevator ride was silent, the loudest sound would probably be my heels clacking against the elevator floor.

“She’ll be fine man..” Logan mutters, his voice sounding not too sure about himself.

I nod, trying to calm myself.

When we arrive at the room, I hesitated to put the key to the lock.

“Are you okay?” I nod, finally gaining the courage to grab the key and open the door.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Logan calls out.

“Y/N? Where-” I'm interrupted by a sob coming from the bathroom.

I look at Logan, who nods and we both hurry to the bathroom door.

“Y/N? It's us, Lando and Logan..” I lean against the door, listening to the sobs, my heart shattering with each one.

“Can you let us in? We can't help you if we're outside and you're inside the bathroom..” Logan also leans against the door, our bodies close to each other as we listened for any new sounds.

After a few minutes the door opens a little, Y/N emerging from the bathroom with mascara streaks on her beautiful face..

Logan opens his arms for her and she rushes into them. I lead Logan to the queen sized bed, where he lays Y/N down.

I run my hand through her tangled hair, even though it is still as soft as ever..

“They’ve never gotten to me this bad…. Never…” Y/N whispers into a pillow, it's nice to hear her voice again.

“I know…” I whisper, looking at Logan for a little help.

Logan lays down next to her, looking her in the eyes, his hand on her cheek.

The second Logan's hand touched her cheek, I felt something course through me..

I quickly lay down next to them as well.

“How are the injuries..?” I whisper a frown on my face as I watch the bandages on her arms.

“Fine… they don't hurt as much anymore..” She whispers back, making me smile. It's been so long since I've heard her voice…

Logan sighs as he gently touches her arm, and on accident a bandage, making her wince in pain. “They do hurt, don't they?” She nods, obviously feeling bad for lying.

“Love… let us help you..” I plead.

In the corner of my eye I can see Logan getting an idea..

“What if we made you forget about those messages?”

What..? Does he mean..? No.. he couldn't..

“We could go to the park, cuddle some dogs and cats, maybe even go out for dinner..” Logan smiles at Y/N.

That wasn't what i expected.. My face turns red, which Logan surely noticed.

To my surprise Y/N nods, making me and Logan smile widely.

---------------🏎️---------------

The next few days are filled with spending time with Y/N, each day her smile growing and growing.

Today was the last activity, going out to dinner.

I had dressed in my best suit and so did Logan.

But once we picked Y/N up I immediately felt underdressed. Her beautiful light blue dress fitting her form perfectly and not leaving much to the imagination…

Logan and I held our arms out at the same time, making Y/N giggle and take both of our arms!

I did my best not to show any jealousy, I really tried, but seeing Logan’s smug face just did it…

But i had to stay calm, this was for Y/N.. to make her feel better.

When we sit down at our table the usual boring conversations start, ‘how was your day?’ ‘What did you do?’ always the same..

This is for Y/N..

Some more talk about data and the next races..

This is for Y/N..

Logans hand on hers..

This is for Y/N..

Longing looks between the two..

This is for Y/N..

How long have they known each other? It seems longer than how long they've been teammates…

This is for Y/N..

“How long have you two known each other?” I didn't mean to ask the question, it just came out.

The two share another look and Logan replies, “Since her F3 days, we used to race together for a short while.”

Knew it.

“Race with or against each other?” they both chuckle, as nice as it is seeing Y/N laugh, i don't want her laughing about this…

“We were on the same team, so it's a nice familiar feeling that we're on the same team again.”

Y/N is my friend..

I smile and nod, hiding my hurt.

Why am I feeling hurt? I've known her for a few weeks at best.

Y/N is my friend..

I shouldn't feel these things for her, she's my friend!

“Are you okay Lando?” Y/N’s soft voice pulls me out of the haze i was in.

I nod, “I'm fine Y/N. ready to leave whenever you are.”

Y/N nods and finishes her dessert.

Y/N is my friend…

Y/N is my best friend even..

Y/N is my…

What is she?

#logan sargeant x reader #formula1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant x reader x lando norris #lando norris x reader #comfort #angst #fluff #i wrote most of this at midnight #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris #logan sargeant

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cvnt4him · 15 hours

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"woah would you look at that, deku just took out that guy with a single punch!"

"he's so amazing!~"

"you're my hero!!!"

So many people chant, root, and holler for even the slightest glimpse of his attention, even a glance.

"Mr deku, what can you tell us about this villain, you hadn't even put up much of a hassle and yet he appears to be tired!" One report gleams.

It's true. He hadn't done too much, one simple practically, light punch and the criminal was already down, he knew that. Deku knew he was good, he knew others thought he was good. He thrived on that kind of energy.

"oh~, well you know, I'm not one to brag nor bring other people down, criminal or not we're all human." He sings to the reporter, hinting at the fact she gave the measly little lowlife schmuck at best, a promotion to 'villian'. cameras flashing everywhere as he heard a bunch of girlish screams, everyone looks over to see a bunch of fan girls rallying to get an autograph.

Dammit.

Izuku tried so hard not to let his smile faulter, its not that he disliked his fans, really he could never, he knows one of the reasons he's here is because of his fans, and he loves them all equally no matter what. However. scrolling on the Internet, especially as a pro hero it's hard not to go down a loophole of your own fans. Izukus fans are nice, sure. But they're also bat shit crazy.

Doxxing people for disagreeing, assuming he was gay for his best friend dynamite, writing fanfiction about him and his best friend dynamite, assuming he had a new significant other because he changed up his style of clothing??

Really his fans are too much, he loves them, he does. But they are just so...smothering?

As he sees the fans hurrying toward him he tries his hardest to jump away as he was stopped by a little deaf girl who wanted an autograph.

Shit. You can't NOT give a little deaf girl an autograph it'd be bad publicity. he sighs deeply in defeat, knowing how easily persuaded he is, he'll most likely be there standing, on his feet, smiling wide and big for fans, for the next hour and a half.

Izuku sighed deeply through his nose as he finally, after 5 more hours of working, made it back to his bed, that's all he wanted. He didn't bother taking his suit off just simply jumping in his bed and groaning at the comfort he longed for.

He grabbed his phone and opened Twitter.. that was the first mistake of the night, he scrolled through his feed coming across a post of a girl just rambling about her ever lasting love for deku.

He shifted in his bed so now he was laying back on his pillows, turning up the sound to hear your beautifully slurred voice.

"- like bro.. I don't think any of you understand how my NEED for this man is like just.. sigh. I'm about to go crazy bro. If I were given the chance I'd do unholy. Unspeakable. Down right horrendous things to this man, i- aHaAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HERO SUIT??" You were talking to your friend who had the idea to start recording you while you were drunk, laughing and snorting at you.

The video was posted by you, the caption read; 'my friend started recording while i was drunk and i randomly went on a rant ab my love for the #1 hero 💀'

He snickered at this, genuinely finding it funny, but sooner or later it registered in his brain what you'd said..you'd do what to him.

Before he knew it he was semi hard, he looked down at his slight hard on confused, there is no way this turned him on?? He had been sent so many videos of his fan girls from all ages going down on a dildo with his name slapped on it, he never found it the least but attractive, just kind of desperate..

He watched the video again, his cock becoming fully erect as he sighed at the uncomfortable feeling of his now leaking, completely hard cock, rubbing against his suit pants.

It had been a while since he'd done something like this.. since he had used someone..he needed this, just to relax. Just a couple of strokes to get him to come, that's all.

He let out a shaky sigh, slowly trailing his thick fingers up and down his clothed cock, earning a light squeak to rip from his throat due to the slight pleasure he felt from the gentle actions.

He knew he needed it, he needed this so badly, but he wouldn't rush it. He hated when he rushed things, he says 'they never get done correctly'.

So he would be patient with himself, gently palming himself over his suit pants, letting breathy sighs leave his slightly dried and chapped lips.

He looked over to his phone to see the paused video...

'oh what the hell.' he thought to himself as he grabbed the phone, angling and holding it close to his ear to hear your voice and the loud laughs that he hopefully tried to blur out of his mind. Focusing on your voice fully.

He held the phone close to his ear closing his eyes listening to your slurred speech, and the hiccups and giggles that left your mouth, he bit his lip as his palming motions began to get harder and more rough, "I would do down right horrendous things to this man." That line stuck with him, that's what made him undo his pants and shimmy them off so he could fully touch his leaking, crying cock.

He groaned in embarrassment and disgust in himself at the sight of his already soaked boxers, why did his cock have to be so leaky!!

He whimpered at the sight, pulling his boxers down just enough to have his cock hit against himself. He wrapped two fingers around his cock and rolled his eyes back, biting his lip to sustain the sound that wanted to come out. He stroked himself slowly, letting the precum on his tip continue to drip down his thick cock.

He had listened to the audio all over again this time fixating on the part where you'd talked about his suit. He had changed up his suit a couple of times, never really straying away from the original concept he had in highschool, the green was always there to stay, and he always liked the fact his suit was more of a jumpsuit kind of thing, but changing it over the years, he went with a tighter fabric for his new and improved suit, removing the bunny ears at the back, and adding a white cape, replacing his huge bulky gloves with just as thick, smaller and well fitted ones, the white the painted his suit was now black.

He hadn't done much to his suit really.

But you and so many others thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.

He loved that, that you loved his suit, he whimpered in a pitchy octave, eyes crossing as he shut them, breaths becoming uneven as he wraps his whole hand around his aching, dripping, cock. It yearned for release, he needed it, it hurt so bad but felt so good he couldn't stop, he was sooo close!

So so close, and yet.. not close enough to get him there. He abandoned all self respect and hope for 'not rushing things' he needed to come and the only way he could is if he really touched himself.

He ripped off the top of his hero suit before rummaging in his bedside drawer to grab a Fleshlight, it was a lot more advanced than your normal average pussy shaped fleshie, it had handle and so many different modes!!! It vibrated and wiggled and had a squirt thingy that shot lube inside to make his cock slippery, not that he'd need it, his cock is like a water fountain with so much cum to give.

He turned it onto its highest setting before settling his twitching cock, dribbling with precum, inside of it.

He couldn't contain the line of moans that ripped out of him, he wanted to really he did, he wanted to keep quiet for his neighbors but he just couldn't, he felt so fucking good, he'd felt that he'd never been this hot or bothered before especially not because of some measly audio that wasn't in any way remotely sexual, and yet he was so close to cumming because of it. This video. This person. You.

You were so close to making him cum.. he was right there bucking his hips up into the contraption, shaking, whilst his whole body spasmed as he threw his head back, sweat dripping from his tired and spent body, he groaned and moaned so loudly it was so lewd, he was so lewd. He couldn't believe what he was doing, he felt so dirty, but in this very moment, he couldn't care. He was so drunk off of the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving that all he wanted, needed, was to cum.

And when he finally released with a high pitched moan, globs of tears leaving his rolled eyes, there was so much, ropes of his white, hot, thick cum squirting inside of the toy. It was still vibrating against his softening cock, it made him so overstimulated yet he couldn't move, his orgasm was so strong he didn't have the energy to take his cock out. He just sat there, holding onto the toy that continuously vibrated and massaged his limp, thick, crying cock, crying, sniffing, and whimpering.

Hell he'd probably already came again without even knowing it, his orgasms had gone on for a while, he still couldn't move, just blissfully laying against his bed, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his reddened freckled face.

As he regained his composure, the overstimulation was more than enough, he hiccuped, wiping his face from the tears and sweat that covered it, as he turned off the toy and tossed it off of his bed, he was half naked, hot, and hungry.

He groaned as he draped one of his arms over his face, feeling the sweat and tears cover his forearm, as he heard the video that had been playing over and over again on repeat. His eyes shot wide open as he scurried to grab his phone. he looked at the video in disgust. Had he really just gone to a new low, and came to this stupid video of a dumb drunk girl complimenting him??

His post nut clarity was always bad, especially because he did some pretty down bad, disgusting, sinful things. But this? Yeah he deserved to suffer for all eternity.

He groaned placing his phone under his pillow as he buried his face in said pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at how hard he'd came, his cock still filthy and sticky with his thick ooey gooey cum, now dirtying his bed.

................................................

AN: he hates himself for how much and how hard he came, he really does.

I'm making a pt 2🤭

#deku smut #deku x reader #izuku is so girlie pop #izuku x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #cvnts-post

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scorpioriesling · 2 days

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Once Upon A Dream

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

Pairings: Azriel x reader

Warnings: Suspense, angst, light swearing, slight abuse

Summary: As the daughter of a malevolent king on the Continent, you were used to spending time alone. Sure, you had tasks to complete, but not much free-will was given under your father’s harsh rule. This wouldn’t stop your quest for something more; but for every good thing, a price must be paid. Would you allow yourself to be convinced -- by a fae of all beings -- that you're destined for more than a life within the castle?

SR’s Note: Guys… this idea had me itchingggg to start writing it, but I just get very very very busy and I procrastinate tbh. Seriously, I'm putting my whole ･ﾟ: *pusss･ﾟ: * into this one -- jokes aside, I’m just excited to share this idea and illustrate how I was piecing it together in my brain. I’m so excited for you guys to read it — maybe listen to Once Upon A Dream (this version, specifically) while reading it? We all love a good Lana moment. <3 Enjoy, my darlings. I apoligize in advance for any editing mistakes!

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

"Good morning Mrs. Julie," you say kindly, voice as soft as the rays of sunlight streaming through the small windows.

"Oh, good morning, child!" The short, aging kitchen attendant clasps one of her worn hands in yours and offers you a warm smile, and you smile broadly back at her. "Always a delight to see you so early in the day," she continues, releasing your hand to turn her attention back to the mound of settling dough on the counter before her that is beginning to rest. "Say, what are you planning for today, hm?" She asks, picking the sticky, yeasty mound from the wooden board and expertly working it between her palms. It's as unbothered by her touch as she is by the hustle and bustle of other attendants working in preparation around her. "I hear the weather is to be kind today." She winks, and you consider.

"Well, I was planning to tend to the garden... again..." she gives you a knowing look, hearing no different any other morning.

"And I assume you will eat your breakfast and brush your hair too?" You narrow your eyes playfully at her, but can't help the grin tugging at your lips as a chuckle escapes her lips.

"Maybe I want to go for a more disheveled look today?" You say sassily, and she bumps her hip with yours. You loose a laugh.

"Go on, dear," She says.

"Well, I heard father was planning a meeting with Graysen of some sort, which means he won't be here..." You allude. Julie's brows raise, but she doesn't take her eyes off of the dough she is kneading.

"Oooooh, so you are thinking of forging plans while your father is away then, hmm?" She coos. You scoff, pushing off the counter you had braced upon to fold your arms across your chest.

"Julie! How could you accuse me of such a thing?" You throw her a playfully incredulous look, which she returns with a mischedious grin.

"Because, my dear," she picks the mass of dough up, tossing it into a nearby bowl with a heavy thwop. "You forget that I've known you for... well, let's see, twenty three years now?" She glances sidelong at you, and you drop your arms, gracing her with another soft smile.

"Which is precisely why you are absolutely right," you say, as she grabs a wet cloth and begins wiping the loose flour from the worktable. You find one on a table nearby, clutching it and working to help her clean up.

"Y/N, no no no, you'll only ruin your dress dear," she tuts. You roll your eyes, and she shakes her head, taking the rag from your hand.

"Just because I am technically a Princess, doesn't mean I can't or don't wan't to help," you say. She continues wiping, smiling gravely at you.

"I know dearie. If you didn't, you wouldn't come down here to say hello each morning." A sad smile takes over your lips, and just then, the clock chimes. Your head turns, and you notice that it is nine on the dot. You had better be getting to the dining room to meet your family.

"You'd better be going dear," Julie seems to echo your thoughts aloud. You nod, making way for the stairwell and muttering polite hellos to the other attendants as they pass.

"I'll see you later on Julie -- have a lovely day!" You call as you begin the climb. It only takes a few minutes to climb the few flights to the main floor of the castle from the service kitchen, but as you swing the heavy door open, your eyes are met with none other than your father's from the end of the long table.

He says nothing, he only seems to stare right through you as you swallow the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and pull the oak door closed. Graysen lifts his gaze from the table, eyes narrowing on you slightly as he shifts his eyes from you, to the clock handing from the wall, and then back to you again.

"You're late, sister," he says. You huff, squaring your shoulders and walking swiftly to your unassigned-assigned seat at the much-too-large dining table. You father takes a deep breath, and you stare sidelong at him, the cascading sunlight framing his stature like flames around an ember in a firepit.

Graysen continues to stare expectantly at you, and you fold your hands in your lap, tilting your chin as high as you can and let out a soft groan.

"Ughhh okay! I'm sorry I am a couple of minutes late, okay? I apologize. Can we just eat?" You ask, eyes dancing between your brother and father in question. Your father sighs, still not speaking as he reaches for the plate of crepes in the middle of the breakfast spread. You dejectedly look at Greysen, who only shrugs and flicks a few sausages onto his own plate. It isn't until a few moments of eating in silence that your father finally speaks.

"The meeting... today... Gray... we need to ask the Queens about the border and what we need to be doing about the, well, the problem were having. The slippage, rather." He says, eyes still downcast toward his plate. Graysen nods, seeming to know exactly what your father is speaking of.

"Mhm, sounds about right." He says through a mouthful of sausage. You furrow your brows. What are they talking even talking about? It isn't like they ever tell you anything -- to them, you're good for flittering around the palace and adding to the aesthetic of the place. They've never dared say it, but they don't need to; their actions say enough. You fear the woman your brother courts would only end up down the same path you're currently on, seeing how the last few have turned out anyway.

"I need you to take this seriously," Your father says. Graysen swallows, clearing his throat and wipes his mouth with his napkin. His eyes meet yours swiftly before boring into your father.

"Father... when have I ever not taken something like this seriously?" He asks. Your father shrugs, but continues to eat, his plate nearly clean. You glance at your clean plate, contemplating the right time to ask if you can leave the grounds. Your father barely ever allows for your free-will; and you doubt he'd let you go today. After a few more beats of silence, you decide what better time than now to ask?

Clearing your throat, you sit up staight in your chair. "Father, I wanted to-"

"You have flour on your dress, Y/N."

✧･ﾟ: *

The soft pattering of soles on marble sounds beneath your pacing feet for as you angrily step back and forth across your room. You've been in here since breakfast, and though its only been but an hour, you feel as though half the day has gone by. You were so sick and tired of your father never paying you any mind -- he never seemed to care what you thought, or what you had to say. It almost seemed like he believed you to not posess a brain in your head, the way he disreguarded his only daughter.

You're sure you've walked a ring into the floor by now, but when you look down, it looks as pristine as it did when you'd returned from breakfast of course. You huff, almost hoping for some sort of penalty for your father's actions.

Oh, he'd be getting a penalty, all right.

You had a good idea how the rest of this fine day would go; first, you'd trot through the gardens, as you always did to show your father you were keeping busy. Then, when he took your brother for whatever meeting they had, you'd venture as you pleased -- a punishable, hainous crime, truly -- and then, you'd return by sundown, as to not raise suspicion.

Plain and simple.

This plan was perfect enough, you'd decided as you ended your pacing tyrade and instead padded over to your expansive closet to choose a lighter, cleaner dress for... "gardening". Settling on a pale blue sundress that ended just above the knees and fit just right, you fastened your sandals and tied your hair with a bow. A once over in your full-length mirror painted the portrait of a princess, one your father would be proud of.

Or, one he would believe, anyway.

As you decended the grand staircase, you overheard your brother's voice from the foyer, and you halted, pressing your body against the railing. Leaning over ever so slightly, you strained to hear what he could be saying.

"No father, I'm not saying that," he sounded exasperated. "I'm just saying that if we have faeries coming over the wall, we are the closest thing to it, and the first thing we should probably be doing is checking any surrounding areas, rather than sending troops to the wall itself." He argues. You hear a huff, and you know its none other than your father.

"Right, but the Queens are saying that if we guard the wall, we stop this spillage of faeries into our land all together, then we wouldn't have anything to worry about to begin with," your father retorts. You furrow your brow. There he goes, using that word again. Spillage. They're speaking as though faeries are on the continent, on our lands? But, that wouldn't make any sense. What's the point?

"Why even come over the wall in the first place?" Graysen asks. Huh, you think to yourself. I was thinking the same thing. Maybe I am just as smart as your son, maybe it could be me going to these meetings, Father. You hear footsteps, and your breath hitches as you glimpse them striding for the front doors. If they so much as turned around, looked up...

"What do you think this meeting is for today, my boy?" Your father claps Graysen on the shoulder, and you decide to make your entrance. Stepping loudly down the stairs, both of their heads turn to face you, the ghost of a smile falling from your father's face when he sees you. Graysen only cocks an eyebrow.

"Going somewhere?" He asks hautily. You plaster the most sickenly-sweet smile on your face as you step onto the landing, and clasp both hands behind your back.

"Only the gardens," you say, meeting your brother's stare. "The hedges are quite overgrown, and the rosebushes need tending. Lot of work to do today." He only hmmphs, and your father's stone-cold stare doesn't falter.

"The change of attire is... appreciated." He says dryly. You nod, and he blinks. "We have a meeting to be off to. We should return after sundown. You'll do well on your own for the evening?" He asks without an ounce of actual concern.

"Of course, father." You say. He nods, turning to Graysen.

"We should be off then." And with that, he is opening the door and heading out with your brother. Out to some secret meeting that you can't and shouldn't know about for Gods knows why.

Out and away for you to finally enjoy some well-deserved freedom.

You watch as the last horse in the group attending with your father today is far enough from the palace that you cannot make out the shape anymore, and then practically book it to the back of the palace. Throwing open the back doors, prancing down the marble stairs to the gardens, you dance and twirl past every bush and weed and stone bench that you definitely will not be paying any mind to today -- well, honestly, these rose bushes are looking a little rough. You pull dead petals and bulbs off as you go, which only brightens the path as you make your way towards...

Wherever your feet carry you, you suppose.

Not before long, you've passed every rose bush. Every weed. Every overgrown hedge. You slow your steps as you skip past the last stone bench, realizing you truly are at the edge of the grounds, the large iron fence drawing nearer and nearer. It's rusty as you finally get in front of the latch, running your fingers along it. You still try your luck nonetheless, doubting it would be unlocked. You unclip the hook, pushing the heavy metal bars tainted coppery red with age and-

It opens.

You almost can't believe it.

You gasp, stepping through the small opening and looking beyond. All that is really out there is dense forest, and to be honest, you don't have much interest or experience in going out in a place like that. However, when you ponder, you really don't have much experience in anything, so would it really hurt to try something new? What was the worst that could happen -- you could see a bunny?

You take a deep breath, and then begin walking. The sun was high in the sky, and the tendrils of light falling delicately through the trees was... lovely. Peaceful. Out here, it felt so free, like you could do or be whatever you pleased without confinement.

Another twig snapped in the distance, and you whipped your head in the direction. You hated the way your heartbeat sped up, over a simple forrest creature. Shaking your head, you continued on, looking quickly over your shoulder at the palace that was growing smaller with each step you took.

It wasn't much longer before you decided to stop and rest for a bit, the walk tiring you out more than you'd thought. Your half-lidded eyes began to glaze over when they caught on something just across the way. It was... out of place, it, didn't... belong there. You sat up straight, senses heightening when you saw the figure move, the paleness a stark contrast to the lush greenery around you.

That definitely doesn't belong here.

"You need not be afraid," a voice rang out. You were on your feet in an instant, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes darted between the trees. Where did it go?

"Behind you, dear." You jumped, adrenaline spiking as a rush of fear flooded your system. You fell flat on your rear, kicking backward with your hands and feet. You barely registered with stood before you, the smile like a cat staring down at a helpless mouse.

"Allow me to repeat myself; do. Not. Be. Afraid." Your breath came out in small pants, and you stared at the man with pure terror in your eyes. He was a few feet from you, merely standing calmly and looking at you as though waiting for you to stand up. You took just a moment to regain control of your thoughts, remembering you were in fact in a dress, on the ground, and there was a stranger in front of you. You scrambled to your feet, dusting off the back of your dress and glancing sidelong at the man. He smirked at you.

"Very well then. I don't have all day; I did come here with purpose." You look at him incredulously.

"Whatever are you talking about?" You ask. He folds his arms over his chest.

"A proposition, really." He states. "I've been... noticing... you might be interested in something I have to offer." He states. You raise an eyebrow.

"Do tell." You say flatly. You clasps his hands behind his back, beginning a slow circle around you.

"I have the ability to grant you something -- a power, of sorts -- that I cannot posess myself. It's a very special gift, child, one some would," he leans close, and you stiffen. The air around you even seems to drop in temperature. "...kill for." You shudder.

"What makes you think I want it? Why me? How do you have this?" You ask, and then it hits you -- he is a faerie. He is fae, and he came over the wall. You turn, staring at him as he laughs cruelly.

"Ahh, so you've put it together then." You glare at him.

"What is your kind even doing on this side of the wall, huh? Don't you understand people like my father would kill you?" You spat. The man only grins wickedly.

"Precisely, which is why I am offering this gift to you, Princess," you straighten.

"With this new strength, you will weild shadows of emerald; posess strength, at your will; have the ability to forge your own magic, transform your own reality, and manipulate what is real," he explains. Your eyes widen. Was all of this true?

"And... why give it to me?" You ask.

"Lets just say... I have a war, I am heading. I am a King too, after all." He lets out a dark chuckle. You look toward the ground, thinking for a moment. Apparently you think too long, because he starts talking again.

"You'll be a good asset to have when I need it, and I couldn't keep this gift even if I wanted to." He scoffs. "Like calls to like, some joke... by the Cauldron-"

"Okay. I accept."

He grins, all of his decaying teeth exposed and you grimace.

"Excellent."

Thunder cracks overhead, the sky exchanging the sun for an overcasted gray pantone. You look side to side, the leaves and twigs around you rising from the forrest floor in a dance on a phantom wind as the breeze tornadoes around you in waves. It increases speed, and the man cackles, the crown on his head glimmering with the movements.

You squeeze your eyes shut, the motions, the sounds -- its all too much. More thunder whips overhead, the wind picking up and you open your eyes to watch as the man beging to recede into the windstorm.

"Hey!" You call out, reaching out a lame hand in protest. "Wait! How am I supposed to-" Another flash of lightning strikes the ground, inches from your fingertips and you shriek, retracting your hand and shoving your palms into your eyes. You can't help but fall to your knees, the ground biting into your flesh as your dress blows and tugs with the whipping winds around you. Tears threaten to fall, and you curl into the soft Earth, wishing it would drag you under.

You almost confuse your hairbow for the sensation of the cool, silky caress against your cheek. You instinctively reach up to touch it, a tear slipping free as you cry out. Peering up, you see wisps of smoky black amid the everlasting windstorm, threading through your fingers and softly caressing your face. You sob, the lightning overhead only drawing closer. The coolness of the smoke around your cheek, over your shoulder, and through your fingers brings a little comfort to the scariest moment of your life.

It only continues to get scarier as lightning streaks across the sky once more. This time, however, it doesn't span the whole sky. It's aiming right at you. As if you're in slow motion, you don't react quick enough -- the lightning continues to move at, well, lightning speed, as it hits the mark it was aiming for.

✧･ﾟ: *

You awake with a jolt, thrashing against the cool silken sheets wrapped around you. You're back in your bed, the soft hues of the late afternoon sun basking your room in an amber glow. Your eyes dart around the room wildly; how did you end up in here? How much time had passed? The last thing you remembered were the cool caresses of those shadowy figures as the tornado-like winds whipped around you-

You leap from your bed, landing on the floor as soft as a feline and feeling... lighter. You furrow your brow, checking yourself over. Stepping in front of your mirror, you didn't look much different; sure, your hair could use a brush run through it, but not much else was amiss. You let out a sigh of relief, the sunlight catching in the flecks of your irises, highlighting the emerald specks hidden in them.

Oh. That was new.

Then, you remembered that tiny, new little change.

The.. what had he called it? The gift, that fae had given you.

The King, rather. Oh so he said.

You chewed on your bottom lip, beginning to pace around like you'd done this morning. You thought up what you should do about this... predicament, you were now in. You'd learned of the war that was happening, or so this "King", had told you. He also said you would be an asset to him, which you still couldn't understand or come up with any explaination as to why.

You halted your footsteps. You'd spent many days in this room, in this palace, pacing, doing absolutely nothing but wasting time -- and if the threat of war was real, if that faerie was telling the truth, then you needed to find out more for yourself. Gods be damned if your father would ever clue you in on such matters.

You made way for the stairs, practically taking them two at a time, nearly floating down the staircase it seemed with the pace you were going. You continued to make haste, bolting for your father's study. The sky was streaking with tinges of purple and crimson, sign that dinner would soon be ready and your father would be on his merry way home soon.

You didn't have much time.

Heaving the massive doors of his study, your breath caught when you finally saw the interior. Sure, you'd caught glances inside every now and again -- but you were forbidden in this room, as was any servant, any maiden, even Graysen wasn't allowed in here. You knew, whatever you needed to find had to be locked away in here. You could feel it, although it was calling out to you.

Stepping in, you made way for the rows of books along the far wall. It was only dimly lit inside the room, but you did not have a problem seeing the titles as clearly as if the sun shone from the ceiling of this very room. Was this another condition of the gift given to you?

Scanning the texts, most seemed rather useless. There were a few that pertained to faeries, but you'd already been educated on the history of their kind -- that wasn't what you were in here for. You turned, peering over your shoulder toward the windows. A massive trunk sat, and every nerve ending vibrated with the call of your power drawing you to it.

You rushed over, dropping to your knees and popping the locks. Shoving the lid open, you found a single map inside. You yanked it out, letting the lid slam shut as you unrolled it.

The map had a few areas on it -- ones you'd heard of, but couldn't understand why your father would be keeping under such protection. The scroll featured documentation of the Continent, and above it; Prythian. It was divided into smaller sections, and off to one side there was another small island with the title of Hybern, and you didn't miss a large, red X over the area scribbled in dark ink. You rolled it back up quickly, tucking it under your arm.

You figured would suffice, and you would be able to work off of this and gather more information from the library, but as you made way for the door...

His desk. It was practically screaming at you, begging to be rummaged through. It was clean, pristine, and calling so loudly that you stopped dead in your tracks. Turning slowly toward it, you confusedly stepped closer.

"What am I... looking for over here?" You wondered aloud. You looked all around -- he had no papers on it, no boxes or locks stored near the floor. You ran your hands along the sides of it even, but it wasn't until you sat in his chair that you felt the exhaustion hit you. Wave after wave of intensity coursed through you, as if alerting you to take take take what was needed. You threw your hands in the air.

"There's nothing here!" You shouted, nearing your witts end at the empty desk before you. Your veins flooded with electricity, and you hissed at the pain. Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it all just... go away?

"THERE IS NOTHING!" You repeat, yelling into the empty air. "I CAN'T FIND IT-" You bring both of your hands down on the desk, bright green flames bursting from your palms as they make contact with the wood. You gasped loudly, the flares dissipating into thin tendrils of emerald smoke, similar to those from the forest earlier in the day. You stared down at the backs of your hands, not sure if you wanted to move them and see the damage you'd done, or keep them there and enjoy your ignorance for a few moments longer.

You shakily remove them from their planted position, only growing more confused when the desk below remained pristine. "What... the... Hell..." you mutter. You glance toward the ground, noticing a small tray laying haphazardly below. A few papers and quills lay scattered about, and you brace the ground, craning your neck to look at the underside of the desk.

It was secured underneath, you see. The force must have knocked the hidden compartment off of its hinges.

You pick up the tray and the supplies, laying them out on your father's desk to examine. Nevermind that there is a keyhole in the front, and no key in sight -- you wouldn't have been able to get inside the compartment anyway. Amid the papers, there are many pertaining to past trips that are no longer relevant; but a few on top of the pile catch your eye. Other than Graysen's birth certificate, a few of the other pages feature words like "Queens", and "securing the Continental borders" and "aligning with Hybern for the war"-

Your pulled from your amazement when you hear the unmistakeable sound of hooves outside the front entrance. Your blood runs cold, and you quickly shove the discarded papers back in the tray and jam it back onto its hinges under your father's desk. It doesn't fit quite right -- but it will have to do for now. You'd be dead if he caught you poking around in here.

You quickly glance around the room as you swipe the rather important documents from his desk as well as the map, and assure the room looks just as you found it. You're pulling the door closed, waiting for the soft sound of the latch when you hear the grand doors opening. Shit. The only way to your room is the grand staircase, and going that way will only ensure that your father and brother see you, contraband in hand. How are you going to get out of this one?

Think think think, what other routes could you take? You rack your brain, but can't think of any. Taking the service stairs would draw attention as dinner is about to be served and the attendants are using those at the moment, oh Gods how you wish you could just be in your room right now...

And just like that, you were.

You look around incredulously, dropping the map and the papers in shock. One minute, you were outside your father's study. And the next...

You were here.

But, how?

You nearly double over, bracing a hand on your dresser as the realization hits you with full force. The wood brashes against the wall loudly, and you hear your name in the distance. You shake your head, slowly as the gravity of the situation sets in. You can't believe this. What you've done. What you have done. What have you done?

"No... no no no," you groan aloud. Heavy footsteps sound outside your room, and you go into panic mode, pushing yourself from the dresser and kicking the papers and map beneath your bed. You're just in time -- within seconds, a quick knock sounds at your door and your brother is inching it open.

"Y/N? Are you... alright? In here?" He asks cautiously.

You clear your throat, smoothing down your hair and taking a seat atop your bed. "Yes." He opens the door wider, peering inside and gives you a bored look.

"Father requests your presence. Dinner is to be served in five minutes." He says flatly. You nod, trying hard as you are willing to mask every emotion swirling inside. His brow furrows, and he gives you one last quizzical look.

"You sure nothing is going on up here?" He asks. You shake your head.

"Nope." You pop the P, smoothing your skirt and he looks you up and down with distaste as he begins shutting the door.

"Don't be late this time."

✧･ﾟ: *

You barely get any sleep, tossing and turning all night as thoughts of your new gifts and new... self plague you. All night, you continue to have haunting dreams, visions of yourself displaced in Prythian among the monsters that lurk the lands from the stories you'd always been told. The faeries that had once kept humans as slaves, faeries who have a thirst for human blood.

But now it was you. You who had been tricked. You who had been a fool, and accepted such a curse from a fae himself only to become what you feared most.

How would you ever be able to tell your family? Your father, aligning with Hybern to take out the fae-kind, preparing for war where he would not bat an eye slaughtering anything other than human. Your brother, who's last courted female left him, taking to Prythian herself instead. You knew where his loyalties lied, and they most certainly weren't with you.

This agony continued for days, not that your father caught on. He never paid you mind anyway, so keeping your inner turmoil from him wasn't very difficult. It was the restless nights, the nights that you'd awake in terror, and constant thoughts of what may happen to you here that plagued you the most.

You needed to find some way out.

A few weeks since being given your gift per se, you were headed down to the kitchen one morning after a particularly harrowing night to greet your favorite person on the Continent, the sweet smell of fresh biscuits bringing a seed of joy to your morning.

"Good morning Mrs. Julie," you stated. Mrs. Julie turned from her work station, greeting you with her signature smile -- only for it to turn into a frown moments later.

"My, dear child! Have you gotten no rest in days?" She asks, taking your cheeks in her hands. She turns your face side to side, and you let out a yawn in confirmation. She tsk tsk tsks, shaking her head and dropping her hands. She turns back to her station.

"What's been keeping you awake, hmm?" She asks. You take a seat on a stool near the end of her table, watching as she works on icing a tray of fruit tarts before her. You breathe deeply -- Julie is your favorite, most trusted person in the world. Since your mother died, she took you in of sorts, always caring for and giving you the love you lacked from your other family members. But this? This kind of secret... it just might be something that is too much for her to handle. Is she knew you were a faerie, she may see you differently. You didn't know if it was something you could stomach.

"Is it... a male, perhaps?" She asks. You scoff, nudging her with your arm. That wakes you right up.

"Oh please, Mrs. Julie -- if I had a lover, you'd be the first to know!" You say playfully. She chuckles, continuing to ice.

"Well, dearie I don't know what you tell me and what you decide to keep is all your business," she offers politely. You don't know how to respond, so you stay quiet. She sighs, setting down the icing bag and taking your hands in hers. Her soft eyes peer into yours and she leans close.

"Y/N, if there is something troubling you, you know you can always talk with me, right?" She says quietly. You nod wordlessly, tears prickling the back of your eyes. Her eyes search yours in silent question, and you loose a breath. You know she is trustworthy, no matter how she might look at you after this, you know you need to talk to someone about your situation.

"Maybe... maybe there is, something." You say. She nods, looking down at the table like she knew you'd say that.

"Well, how about after breakfast when I take my break, we can meet in the garden? Talk about it?" She offers. You nod, and she pulls you into a tight hug. You let a single tear slip free, swiping it away before letting go from her embrace.

"Alright then -- run along, child. You don't want to be late for breakfast, now."

✧･ﾟ: *

As it turns out -- you'd worried over nothing. Mrs. Julie had listened to every word you explained, only offering you her undivided attention and words of sorrow for what you endured. She also offered her promise that she would do whatever was needed to help you, especially when you explained how you'd gone into your father's study.

"Human, faerie, royal -- Hell, you could even be one of those pesky buzzards that ravish the crops in the springtime, and I would still love you just the same, my dear." Her words nearly brought you to tears, and that's when you knew you'd made the right choice in telling her.

That night as you laid down, your head felt clearer -- the grasp and acceptance on who and what you are that much stronger. You hoped that tonight, you would finally be able to enjoy the splendor of peaceful sleep, as your eyelids began to slide shut...

A willowy, chilled breeze slipped past your shoulders, and you instinctively tugged at your duvet, wrapping it around the exposed skin. Moments later, the breeze slid past again, tickling your neck and dragging past your nose. You scrunched it, flipping over on your pillow to face the other side and gripped your blankets tighter in your fist.

Then, the duvet was yanked from your bed altogether.

You shreiked, eyes flying open as you scrambled to a sitting position. You were far from the lamp that stood feet from your bed, but you didn't need it. Through the moonlight pooling in from your window, you were able to make out the immistakable shadow of a body, leaned against the frame. Your heart rate picked up, taking in the sharp-tipped wings draped behind him. You raised a hand on instinct; familiar flames of jade eliciting with the motion.

The man stands to his full height, taking a step toward the bed and you lunge forward, braced on your knees and one hand as the sparks in the other only grow.

"Don't you DARE take one more step!" You hiss, and he puts his hands up in defense, but continues to walk frward slowly.

"Listen, Princess, there's no need to get all-"

"I SAID, STOP." You fire a line of your power towards him, but to your dismay, he easily avoids it, sidestepping. It lands upon one of the paintings handing on your wall instead, cremating it to nothing but ash. He watches, turning to you and whistling lowly as he halts his movements.

"Wowwwww," He purrs. "Were you really going to... incinerate me?" His head turns to you, and you glare at him through the dark.

"I most certainly was." You hop from the bed, landing with lithe precision and slowly approach the intruder. Soft cobalt stones glimmer in the moonlight upon the male's shoulders, one on his chest as your eyes roam over him. It is easier to make out his defining features as you draw nearer, and...

Holy shit.

"Well, if you'd done that, you wouldn't be able to size me up like I'm your last meal; as you're doing now," he responds with a chuckle. You scoff, and fold your arms over your chest. A heat rises to your cheeks as you remember you are in only a nightgown, and this is, again, a stranger. In your home. The flecks of chartruese return to your irises, and the handsome, winged man puts is hands up once more.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry to have frightened you. But, it's not like I could've walked through your front door, you know, and I had to come during the night-" You shake your head, eyes dulling in color a shade.

"Who are you?" You demand.

"Azriel." He bends dramatically at the waist, and you roll your eyes. "Pleased to finally meet you, Princess Y/N."

"Uh huh. Why are you in my bed chambers?" You ask. He sighs, taking a step forward and beginning to pace. You fold your arms over your chest, sensing a long explaination coming with this one.

"Well, actually I came to talk with you. About... you." He says quietly. You raise an eyebrow, perching on the end of the bed.

"What about me?" You ask, feigning ignorance. You weren't stupid -- you were a human girl, given the powers of fae. Why wouldn't another of their kind come crawling in here to ask questions?

"You're... you've been changed. You've been given this power that you aren't experienced with, and-"

"And what? You came here to take it back?" You defend. Azriel looks at you, brows hung low as he frowns at you, annoyed.

"No, I came to help you navigate it." He states, fingertips pressed together. You sigh, leaning back on your hands. The action causes the thin nightgown to ride up on your thighs, and you don't miss Azriel's line of sight trailing along the hem of your dress.

"What makes you so sure I want your help?" You clip. Azriel clears his throat, looking down at the floor, then to the window he came through.

"You probably don't, and I get that, alright?" He sighs. Something in your heart strains a bit, and you feel a bit bad for being so rude with him. But... then you remember he came in through your window in the middle of the night. Unannounced. "But I am sure you've heard of what is to happen in merely a few days between the humans and fae alike, the war and... and you may very well get caught up in it."

His face softens as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight. It causes you to shift closer to him, and you nearly tumble right into him. Not that... you'd mind...

Focus.

"I... I've heard of the war..." You start. His hazel eyes gaze softly at you, and you continue. "When... when I was in the forest, and when I was, well, I don't know, when this "happened" to me," you gesture with your hands. "The male said I would be useful to him. But I don't know what he was on about. Or, why me? I don't understand. He kept saying like calls to like and he couldn't keep it himself -- whatever that means." A small smile graces Azriel's lips, and you realize how close in proximity you've scooted. You scootch back an inch, raising an eyebrow in question.

"What's so funny?" You ask. He turns fully to you, bending a knee to rest on the bed while his other leg remains draped over the side. The iridescent light of the moon is illuminating the planes of his face magnificently; the sharp curve of his jaw, the dark arch of his brow; those full, luscious lips...

"Allow me to show you." He holds out a hand, palm up, and you glance down at it. Dark, inky shadows curl around his arms and run down the tips of his fingers, swirling over his calloused skin. You can't help but lean close, so intrigued by his power so similar to yours.

"I've... I've seen these. Before, they were-"

"In the forest that day?" He finishes. Your eyes meet his, and the shadows extend, dancing up the soft skin of your forearms and twirling through the silky strands of your hair. You let out a small giggle as their featherlight touches retreat, slithering back to Azriel.

"You were there." You say quietly. He nods, a look of regret on his face.

"I'm sorry you have been put through... all of this." He says softly, his hand reaching to lightly cup your knee. Your eyebrows raise slightly at the touch, just a spark of what you felt that day in your father's office shooting through your veins at the contact. His eyes search yours, and you glance down at his hand, the burning inside only deepening when you notice the amount of scars atop it.

It doesn't matter who or what you are -- everyone has a past, you suppose. Your heart tugs on the fact that Azriel seems to have gone through quite a bit.

He notices your stare, and motions to move his hand back. You're quicker, grasping his fingers first, keeping his hand in place. The corner of his mouth tilts upward, and you can't help yourself from doing the same.

Ohh, what your father would do if he caught you like this.

Oh, what your father would. Do.

"Um," you say hastily, rising from the bed. "It is rather late -- and since you seem to be keeping tabs, you know I haven't been sleeping well," you say. Azriel stands, stepping close to you and you suck in a breath.

"Oh, I'll let you sleep Princess," he coos. "But we're pulling those documents out tomorrow night. We have to know what Hybern is planning, and if you want to save your father, and your people..." he saunters toward the window.

"How do you know that I..." You peek under the bed. Sure enough, the documents and the map are all there. Azriel chuckles.

"They like to call me a spymaster. A Shadowsinger," he says. You simply shrug.

"Okay. Whatever that means." He shakes his head, propping a boot on the windowsill and peering out.

"So... you'll be back tomorrow?" You ask wearily. Azriel's eyes meet yours once more, and he nods.

"I'll come earlier next time, if I can." You smile.

"Try not to rip my blankets off of me this time." You say with a chuckle. He shakes his head, ducking through the window and extending his enormous, night-black wings. You rush to the window, gazing out as you watch him disappear into the night.

✧･ﾟ: *

You awoke the next morning, practically floating out of bed and skipping from your dressing chambers to your vanity as you prepared for the day. You slept beautifully, you had to admit -- no nightmares, no tossing, or turning. You breathed a sigh of relief as you twirled in the prettiest yellow sundress you had, taking to the stairs for your usual routine.

"Well, someone is in a much better mood today," Mrs. Julie muses. You pluck a ripe raspberry from her fruit basket, popping it in her mouth as you twirl around the kitchen. With all the hustle and bustle from the other attendants before breakfast, your presence is hardly noticed.

"I slept well," you say. She shakes her head, tapping you on the nose.

"Mmm hmm," she humms. You talk for a few more moments, and then head upstairs for breakfast. You only feel a little guilty for not telling her about Azriel, but... it just seems too new. Too fresh. You decide to wait.

"Good morning, everyone!" You announce, approaching the table. Graysen's groggy morning stare meets yours, and your father sets down his mug to give you a once-over. Your brother only groans.

"What's with the Jolly Miss Sunshine, Y/N?" He grunts. You huff, taking a seat at the table as attendants bring out the food.

"Good morning." Your father responds, and you nod to him with a smile. There is not much warmth in those icey, dead eyes of his but... at least he's paying you mind today.

As you finish, Graysen is excusing himself to leave and you are about to do the same, readying to stand leave the room.

"Please, Y/N. Sit. We need to have a discussion." Your father's tone cuts through the silence of the room like a knife, and your hands begin to clam up as you sit back down at the table. He sets his utensils down on his plate, slowly draining the last of his coffee before looking at you, really looking you in the eyes for the first time in what feels like ages.

"Whatever is the-"

"I know you spend a great deal of time in the gardens." He cuts you off. You clamp your mouth shut, nodding at his statement. He nods with you, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"I know you spend a great deal of time... tending, to these gardens, hmm?" He says. You nod again, growing impatient and wondering what angle he's working.

"I'm just curious." He pauses, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. "I'm actually, rather curious. Why the hedges... are weeks, weeks overgrown, if you are out there... every day... "tending" to them." He says it more like a statement, and honestly, it is. You hadn't actually cut a bush or a hedge in months, truly. You'd been more focused on doing what you wanted, and since talk of the war began and you'd been given fae powers-

"M-my gloves," you stammer. His eyes slice to yours from the spot they'd fixated on, a quizzical look on his face.

"My gloves. They're... ruined." You say. He nods slowly.

"You need new ones." He asks dryly. You nod, and he sighs airily.

"New gloves it is, then."

✧･ﾟ: *

That night, after bidding everyone goodnight, you made sure to keep your dayclothes on. You wouldn't want another duvet-nightgown-midnight situation happening again...

You don't wait long for Azriel to appear, coming through your window with the stealthiness of a trained feline and silence of a snake. Your breath catches from your seat in the middle of your bed -- his outfit similar today, all leather, but his tank top showed off his bulking arms and the long, black tattoos that ran laterally along them.

"Hi," You whispered. He strided over, kicking off his boots and climbing onto your bed. He offered you a whisper of a smile.

"Hi." He said back. You gestured to the items laid before you.

"I... I got everything out that I had," You say. He nods, looking at every piece of parchment.

"Thank you," he mumbles. You smile, and he moves to pick up the map first.

"So," he begins, clearing his throat. "How much do you know about fae?"

✧･ﾟ: *

You hadn't realized how late it had gotten, the only indication was the ache in your back from leaning over the pages. Your mind was blown, but you only wanted to hear more; whether that was to hear Azriel keep talking, or for information. You didn't mind. Both were favorable.

He'd explained more in-depth about the history of Prythian, the Courts, and the politics of it all. His explaination was a little different than the one you'd always been offered; his seemed more fair and just, whereas yours always seemed more geared toward the hatred of the fae. He also explained more about Hybern, and how the King you met was likely using you as a way to get the humans into his hands for the taking.

"So... he gifted me these powers, thinking it would aid him in the war as my father is working with him, to fight against the rest of the courts? Why would the King, or any humans, want to fight the fae who are against keeping humans as slaves -- it was Hybern who were pro-human demise," you say. Azriel shrugs.

"They've got it backwards," he reasons. "And, the King saw an opportunity with you, vulnerable, and alone, and he took it. This ensures if things go sideways with your father, he has collateral. I told you Princess; you're more involved than you know." You sigh, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. You close your eyes and rub your temples as you feel a gentle hand rub soothing circles over your back.

"The King is going to kill the humans anyway." You conclude. You don't need to look, but you know Azriel nods. "He's just using my father to lure them to Hybern to do it."

"Which is why you need to convince your father to do the right thing first," he says. Your eyes widen, and you look to him, a sarcastic laugh bubbling from your throat. He brings his hand to your mouth, covering it and leaning rather close to you.

"Shhh," he hushes. "Someone will hear you."

Your eyes level with his hand, and then meet his as he slowly retracts. He's inches from your face now, and you can feel your insides buzzing with delight.

"I know it isn't ideal, and it might not be easy, but it's our last option here." His fingers slowly trace along the side of your arm. "Look, if it were up to me," he whispers. His eyes stare intensely at your lips. "I'd get you out of this wretched place; I'd bring you back with me, where you could..." he inches closer, and your heartbeat quickens. "...be who you are... and, not have to hide it from anyone..." You gaze up at him, and he moves closer, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your face heats, the skin searing with utter delight at the point of contact. More more more your power thrums.

"Go... with you?" You ask quietly. "To... Prythian?" He nods slightly, downcast eyes raking over your form as his pointer finger and thumb catch a strand of your hair, rolling it between them.

"Azriel... I can't just-"

"Why not, Princess?" The way he says it sends virescent flames shooting through your every vein, and you feel rediculous for thinking this way over a male you've just met so soon. His fingers drop the twirl of hair, knuckles grazing over your jaw affectionately instead. You lean into the touch.

"We've... only just met..." You trail off. He tilts your chin to look at him, a small smirk forming on his perfect mouth.

"Allow some time to get to know me, then." He states, voice low and gravelly. Gods, the way you'd lean in and press your mouth to his right now...

"Think about it?" He asks, eyes pleading. You nod, and he smiles, a small glimpse at his perfectly white teeth peeking through. You gasp.

"Aww... Azriel, you have a nice smile, don't you?" You coo. He shakes his head, a small blush creeping up his neck as he slips from your bed, shucking on his boots. You pad over to him, your hand playfully resting on his arm.

"Azzzz... all night, and I didn't even get to see it once?" You whine in humor. He rolls his eyes, grinning at your words.

"I guess you'll just have to say something that would make me really, really happy," he says. You feel a gentle pull in your chest, and you practically leap toward him. You chuckle, shoving the feeling out of the way.

"Mhm, nice try." You say with a wink. He mounts the windowsill, his hand gripping the top as he stares out. Ughhh his arm is the size of your head against the moonlight painted sky-

"Tomorrow then, Princess?" He says.

"Tomorrow, Shadowsinger." He grins, leaping from the opening and flying into the night.

✧･ﾟ: *

Your days continue in the same pattern; your father and brother ignoring you for the most part, you filling Mrs. Julie in on the little that you know about what's going on (and continuing to feel bad about keeping Azriel a secret from her), and sneaking the Spymaster in at night to pore over your fathers documents and study his war plans with Hybern.

Though no moves have been made yet, Azriel keeps telling you to be on your defenses. You know you'll have to talk with your father soon, and time is running out, but with his daily meetings, you find less-than-opportune moments in each day.

Its been about two weeks now since Azriel first came around, and your day had been the same as usual. Your father had no meetings today, but Graysen was preoccupying him, which meant of course, no discussion. Nonetheless, you still found yourself being summoned after dinner.

That's odd. He never called for you.

As you arrived to the main floor, the attendant led you down the hallway, and your footsteps slowed as you approached none other than...

Your father's study. Your heart sank.

"I don't know what else you want me to say, father, I didn't do it!" The hard slam of what sounded like a fist on a table had you jumping, and the attendant left you at the doorway. You leaned in close, straining to hear the conversation inside.

"Well, someone was fucking in here because all of our plans and deals made with the Queens are missing, Graysen." Your father chides. His tone is angry, rising in octave. "I told you how serious this situation is-"

"I know its fucking serious!" Your brother yells. You raise your eyebrows. You've never heard him yell at your father before, and all be damned if you even considered-

A sharp slap of skin on skin cracks through the air, immediate silence following it. Your hand covers your mouth, eyes wide in shock. You try very hard to listen as the conversation continues.

"Don't you ever raise your voice at me like that again, boy." You father says, lethally calm. In an instant, you hear heavy footsteps and dart out of the way, the door being thrown open and Graysen running through it. His eyes meet yours only for an instant, his face the expression of only a trained killer — you shudder. There’s no way you’d ever be able to be honest with him about what you were. He wouldn’t hesitate to take you out, just as he planned to do aligning with that vile King beyond the wall-

“Y/N. In my study. Now.”

You hastily move inside, trying to remain calm as your father rounds his desk, pressing his fingertips to the surface. You’d expect him to sit, but he makes no move. Instead, he peers down at the wood as you stand motionless in the center of the room.

“I’ll get right to the point.” He grunts, and you chew the inside of your cheek nervously. “Did you enter this study at all within the last few days?”

His eyes detach from the desk, meeting yours before you shake your head, and his lips press into a thin line.

“I’ll only repeat myself once. Did. You. Enter-“

“NO, father, would you truly believe I’d deceive you?” You cut in. His eyes blaze with anger, only a flare, and you realize you’ve hit your mark. Definitely no talking him into changing course tonight.

“I believe you’d do what you need to in order to protect someone you love, or so you think.” He spats. You scowl.

“What are you-“

“Oh don’t paint me a fool, Y/N. I’m not so blind to notice my daughter spending more time in her room than out in the fresh air, out in the garden where you’ve spend it your entire life.” He reaches to the shelf behind him, chucking a pair of new gloves at you. You catch them, and flare at him.

“So what? I haven’t been gardening-“

“Because you stay awake at night. Talking to some male who you’ve been sneaking into my home, MY PALACE, THINKING I WOULDN’T NOTICE-“

Rage fills your every vein, and you unlock the tiny vault in the back of your mind that you promised not to; the most precious secret you’d only let out when the time was right.

Oh, Azriel would be so proud of you for this. Finally defending yourself against what you know is wrong.

“IT WON’T BE YOURS FOR MUCH LONGER IF YOU KEEP TREATING ME THIS WAY.” You bellow. Your chest rises and falls, and his eyes pierce your soul the way he’s glaring at you.

A few agonizingly slow beats of silence pass, your father's fury only intensifying in his stare. You brace for the impact of his words, but when he opens his mouth, the only tone that comes out is lethally calm.

"What. The Hell did you just say to me, girl?" He asks. You gulp, fear beginning to creep into your mind.

Stand your ground, you can practically hear Azriel's voice in your mind. A shadow outside your father's window passes, only catching you off-guard for a moment before you meet his eyes again. Your hands ball into fists, and you take a steadying breath.

"This palace... won't be yours. For much longer." You say, hating how unconfident you sound. His anger turns to confusion, and you continue. You choose this moment, right now, to try and convince your father of a new strategy. He's always more malleable when angry, anyway.

"If you align yourself with that King... you're only damning yourself father, damning us all, and you know it-" You start, and he barks out a cruel laugh, shaking his head and looking down at his desk.

"Please -- don't pretend you know anything about this war-"

"I might not," You bite out. "But I do know how to help the humans. And aligning with a fae King who only intends to use you as a slave seems..." You trail off. He cocks an eyebrow.

"Go on, since you're so full of ideas today, go on. Let's hear how you really feel about my choices in protecting our lands." He smirks cruelly. You glare at him.

"It's idiotic father! It's rediculous, it's... it's not well-thought out, I'm trying to explain that I have something that could truly help you-"

"I think I've heard enough of your play-pretend theories for today. This kingdom is mine, and anyone who intends to take it will have to kill me for it." As if on cue, a group of your father's knights from his finest cavalry storms the room, grabbing your arms and halting you to your position. You flail your arms wildly, kicking beneath the thin fabric of your skirts.

"Get the Hell off me! Father what are you-"

"I don't know how you managed to get in here, or what you thought you were going to do with whatever you found," he snarls, drawing closer to you. "But when I find out who you sent to do your dirty work and what exactly you stole; believe me, no debt goes unpaid, little girl." You bare your teeth, pupils flaring in rage against the cruel King before you. He staggers back a step, looking you up and down in slight horror.

"Take her down to the service cellars." He commands, and metal scrapes against its own as the soldiers hoist you up and lead you from the room. Through your thrashing and hollering, you hear one last order from your father before the heavy doors swing shut.

"Do NOT let her out!"

✧･ﾟ: *

You can't help but pace once more, only this time, you're in the dirty, dank cellar. The dirt walls feel suffocating around you -- the only source of light are the torches on the walls and a small, barred window on the wall near the ceiling. Night has fallen, and you continue to walk back and forth, thinking hard about everything that you read, everything your father said to you.

He knew you'd been sneaking someone in. Did he know it was a fae male? Probably not, or else Azriel would surely be dead by now. Although perhaps this was part of a bigger scheme, to continue to draw the Shadowsinger practically to his doorstep every night, while he lay in wait...

Stop. You shook your head, not wanting to think of the possibility of anything happening to Azriel.

Azriel.

Your thoughts are flooded with images of his mossy, hazel eyes peering into yours in the moonlight. The way his tan skin looked, decorated with those swirling tattoos all over his massive biceps. His silky black hair, how it would feel to run your hands through it as he finally pulled you in close for a kiss-

STOP. There are more imoportant matters at hand right now. And... you're in a cell. You had to find some way out.

What was it, that got your father so angry to throw you down here in the first place? To lock you up for Gods know how long? Was it your backtalking? Surely not -- though Graysen had done it, and earned himself a slap to the face. Was it... your "scheming"? He practically called that child's play.

Although he really didn't like when you talked about his crown not being his after the war.

Your mind went back to the other night -- you and Azriel sat on your bed, poring over the pages you'd taken and you had picked up Graysen's birth certificate. When you looked closer at it, really close; it turns out, he's not first in line for your father's crown like everyone believed him to be.

You are.

The revelation had you feeling sick, not that you even wanted to rule such a kingdom on your own, and you couldn't believe you and your brother had not shared the cruel father you were forced to grow up with. Even worse -- that man was your true father, and you hoped to be nothing like him. Did Graysen know? Surely not. Did your father?

He had to. That would explain his outburst from earlier.

Gods, how you wished Azriel were here. The longer your feet create a path in the dirt, the more and more you think about his offer to bring you with him to his own home -- how lovely it would be to escape this Hellhole, this life of nothing in general; to see him whenever you like, and never live in fear of being with him.

You're pulled from your thoughts when you hear a commotion from down the hallway, a clammoring of what sounded like heavy metals and rustling from down the corridor. You jump toward the bars of your enclosure, sticking a hand through and calling out.

"Please! Someone please!" You call. Tendrils of green seep from beneath your palms, and you place them against the bars; only to fly back a moment later in pain. The planes of your hands feel as though they've been burnt off as red-hot searing spikes shoot through your skin. You shakily stare at them, the red skin prickling with the injury. Tears line your waterline, and you fight to reign them in. Through your pain-induced haze, you hear the commotion continue -- shouting and metal colliding down the corridor.

Until it all goes quiet. You make to stand, noticing thte burning in your palms already beginning to lessen with each passing minute. Approaching the barred entrance wearily, you look out, but see nothing except empty, black, nothingness. You let out a sigh of defeat, and turn to make way back into your prison.

The soft jangling of keys turns your attention back to the gate, and your eyes widen as the door swings open.

"Miss Julie?" You whisper shout. She holds a finger to her lips, motioning you forward.

"Come child -- be hushed, there are guards still lingering," she says. You stare at her incredulously as she pulls you in for an embrace, and when she releases you, her eyes are lined with tears.

"I can't believe he'd truly lock you away," She mutters, and you shake your head.

"Miss Julie, I can't thank you enough for coming to get me out." You whisper, as she takes your hand and begins leading you toward the service stairs.

"Oh, don't thank me dear; you can thank that handsome male of yours, do tell me his name?" She asks, smirking sidelong at you. You shoot her an incredulous look.

"What are you talking abou-"

"Pshhh, please," She tutts. "You could've just told me you had a lover, Y/N. A handsome one, at that." She giggles. Your cheeks burn red.

"Miss Julie, I don't know who you're-"

"Y/N," Azriel pants breathlessly, and you whip around to watch as he appears on the other side of the kitchen. You gasp, quickly sidestepping the soldiers on the floor of the room to get to him. You paw at his chest, his jacket, even caressing his face.

"Azriel its-" He chuckles, still fighting to catch his breath.

"Yes, its really me, Princess." He says. You can't help the tears that begin to spill over, his hands braced on his knees as he works to stand up straight. You don't hesitate to jump into his arms once he's at his full height; and he lets out a sigh of relief as he holds you tight against him.

"Y/N, are you alright?" He asks, setting you down gently. When your feet hit the dirt, you turn your gaze to his, nodding slightly as tears continue to fall. You can't help but notice the blood staining his left ear and trailing down his jaw; splatters covering the leathers he's wearing. You pull back to give him a once-over, but he takes your hands in his and pulls you flush against him once more, his right hand cradling the back of your head to his chest as the other wraps around your waist.

"I'm so sorry... I came as soon as I could." You look up at him, and he looks down to you with sorrow in his eyes. You can't help but smile at him, thanking the Gods for sending the one person you needed right now. You notice his eyes looking beyond you, and you pull back to turn to Miss Julie once more.

"So... you've... met, huh?" Miss Julie giggles, and Azriel nods.

"Unfortunate circumstances, but... I'm glad he appeared when he did, or those fools would've been on me in an instant." She gestures to the countless soldiers on the floor. You can only look between the two of them.

"Azriel, how did you -- nevermind." You say, shaking your head. He raises an eyebrow, dipping low so his face is closer to yours. You grin wildly at the closeness, never feeling happier or more relieved in your life. Miss Julie makes a point to silently walk toward the stairs and out of sight of the two of you.

"Of course you'd know, Spymaster." He grins, and you let out a small laugh. His grin widens into a full on smile, and his arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you onto your tippy-toes to finally press his lips to yours. You seem to melt into him, feeling like jelly in his hands. His other hand caresses your jaw, and that lovely, familiar feeling inside of your chest burns brighter and brighter-

"Agh-" You pull back, putting your hand over your heart as you feel the tightness of a golden lasso clenching around it. You stare wildly at Azriel, and his eyes widen.

"Y/N you're... do you feel it?" He asks, his hand over yours tenderly. You look down, and warmth floods your veins at the realization of what is happening. You mentally give the rope a pull, and Azriel's eyes flick back up towards yours. He smiles again, and you slide your hand along his jaw, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"I'm just glad to finally see you smile, Shadowsinger." He kisses you with all the passion he has, hands roaming over your waist and playfully dipping lower to cup your ass in your large hands. You let out an involuntary groan, and he releases you, only to peer down at you with pure love and adoration.

The moment ends all too short, as a sharp cry rings out from your left. Moments later, you spot a crumpled mass on the floor at the bottom of the staircase.

"Miss Julie!" You shout, thundering over to her, eyes wide in horror as she clutches her side in agony. Two metal-clad knights descend the stairs, swords drawn as Azriel is at your side in an instant.

"Get behind me-" His arm his protectively in front of you, blue siphon ablaze as he yanks a blade from its sheath. All you want to do is fall to your knees and fix this; fix it all, save Miss Julie.

But you can't. Rage takes over your mind, more explosive than you've ever felt. More explosive than in the study. More explosive than when your father locked you in a cage. More explosive-

"NOT A CHANCE." Azriel has the good intention to get out of your way as you rear back, unleashing your pure, unfiltered power upon the soldier nearest you. It slamas into him in an instant, throwing him to the ground and paralyzing him all too quickly. Azriel takes his time, fighting with the other armed guard before plowing him to the floor, wings expertly tucked behind him to avoid taking any of the force.

Green flares erupt around you, growing in size with each passing minute. You look around, blinking and trying to clear your thoughts. You wanted to kill. Your father. His armies. That fae King for doing this to you. All of them should pay-

"Y/N." Azriel's sharp voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife, and you turn your attention to him. Miss Julie coughs, and you both rush to her.

"Y/N, we don't have a lot of time..."

"Can you fix this?" You ask, another tear streaming down your face as Miss Julie's eyes begin to darken. Azriel shakes his head gravely, and you heave before letting out a scream, shaking the walls and causing pans to hit the floor with the force. Miss Julie only takes your cheek in her hand softly.

"My sweet child," she whispers. You sob, tears falling onto her smock and staining it. "Don't cry-"

"Miss Julie you can't leave me!" You rasp, coughing as smoke begins to filter through the air. She gives you a small smile as her breathing begins to slow.

"I'll never leave you, my dear." She says. "But... you shouldn't leave him." Her eyes only widen an inch, and you glance to Azriel. You cry harder when you notice a tear falling from his face as well. He slips a hand over her heart, and she grasps it, smiling fondly.

"He is good, Y/N. He is a good... a good male..." she drifts off. You grit yoru teeth, grabbing her shoulders and throwing yourself onto her in a tight embrace. You continue to cry, and you feel Azriel's hand stroking your back comfortingly as he did those nights ago. You stay there for a few more minutes, the smoke burning your eyes as he tries his best to fan it away with his wings.

"Y/N... we have to go..." he says. You sniffle, allowing him to help you up as you press one last kiss to her cheek. He pulls you out the side door, flames nearing the spot you were just sitting. He continues to pull, hand in hand, through the chilly night air toward the thick forest at the back of your estate.

After a few long minutes of silence, he speaks first.

"Listen Princess... I know you have a kingdom here that you could have, but,"

"Take me with you." He stops, wide eyes blinking at you in shock.

"Are you sure?" He asks quietly. You look to him, nodding in confirmation and squeezing his hand tighter.

"Everything she said was right Azriel; I can't be who I am here, and I know you're a good male. You're..." you choke back another sob, and he slows his pace to wipe away a stray tear on your cheek. "You're a good male. I want to be somewhere I know I'll be safe. I know if I'm with you, I'm in good hands." He looks like he could fall to his knees at your words, and the corner of your lips tilts upward in a sad smile, shadows of smoke and emerald curling around the two of you.

Like calls to like, that's what they always say, right?

"Then allow me to show you the way to your new palace, Princess."

✧･ﾟ: *

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maryrouille · 3 days

Text

Tips for good studying

I must admit that I am shocked at how helpful the post about Toxic romanticization of studying was for you, so I decided to expand it with a second part. Here I will talk a little about examples from my own experience with studying.

1. Take small steps

Even tiny, but keep moving forward. I know it's a very clichéd phrase, but it really works. Especially in the case of very complex theories or extensive material. Then it is worth starting by understanding the basics and expanding this knowledge based on the information that we can best learn first. This way of learning looks like creating increasingly wider circles around one dot (which was our basis).

My practical advice: when I learn very difficult things, I start by finding starting points and writing them down on a small piece of paper (e.g. names or dates). Then I try to combine it in any way possible. When I find connotations, I look for more information about them, which I transfer to a larger piece of paper. This creates charts of varying levels of connection and complexity.

2. Clearly divide time for studying, rest and fun

Of course, studying can be fun, but sometimes we need a moment to relax and do nothing. It's good to divide these moments, which will allow us to either focus completely on work or on rest. Combining learning, especially the kind that is a burden for us, with some form of relaxation makes both activities ineffective. And we still get tired of all this.

My mistake: the countless times I've worked on something and wasn't happy with the results that day. And the evening came, and instead of letting go and resting, I tried to combine "relaxation" with further work. It ended up that I didn't do anything productive, nor did I enjoy a glass of wine or a movie that I watched because she stubbornly tried to do something else.

3. Stimulants are always harmful

In this case, stimulants can be understood in many ways. It may be coffee, alcohol, nicotine or even illegal things. Culturally, we don't see anything wrong with another cup of coffee when we need to concentrate. Or another cigarette, or champagne when we need to relieve stress. However, it should be remembered that all these substances affect our perception and brain functioning to a greater or lesser extent. And isn't it great and healthy to know that we can achieve a lot without these boosters?

My weakness: as I mentioned earlier about a glass of wine, It's nice, but it doesn't help me study. However, I read undemanding books with a wine in bed for pure pleasure.

4. Take care of your neurons

First of all, you need to understand that our brain is responsible for studying. And the brain is an organ and our will is not always enough for its proper functioning. We need to take care of our neurons so that they continue to develop and expand their connections. How to do it? In addition to maintaining overall health, you also need to get enough sleep, have access to fresh air and sun, discover and experience new things and take care of your diet.

My tip: discovering something new every day seems to be an extremely difficult challenge, but it may just be tiny things done in a different way. Changing the place helps me gain a fresh perspective when studying. Sometimes I go to another room, sit by the open window, move everything to the floor or go outside.

If you have any examples of mistakes, good advice or similar problems with studying, you can share them below. There is nothing better than exchanging experiences and having a joint discussion that can bring new solutions to problems!

#studying tips #healthy studying #study inspo #study motivation #studyblr #dark academia #light academia #studyspo #study inspiration #study aesthetic #study blog #studying #productivitytips #studyblr community #tips and tricks #studying inspo

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ernmark · 2 days

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I just stumbled across somebody saying how editing their own novel was too exhausting, and next time they'll run it through Grammerly instead.

For the love of writing, please do not trust AI to edit your work.

Listen. I get it. I am a writer, and I have worked as a professional editor. Writing is hard and editing is harder. There's a reason I did it for pay. Consequently, I also get that professional editors can be dearly expensive, and things like dyslexia can make it difficult to edit your own stuff.

Algorithms are not the solution to that.

Pay a newbie human editor. Trade favors with a friend. Beg an early birthday present from a sibling. I cannot stress enough how important it is that one of the editors be yourself, and at least one be somebody else.

Yourself, because you know what you intended to put on the page, and what is obviously counter to your intention.

The other person, because they're going to see the things that you can't notice. When you're reading your own writing, it's colored by what you expect to be on the page, and so your brain will frequently fill in missing words or make sense of things that don't actually parse well. They're also more likely to point out things that are outside your scope of knowledge.

Trust me, human editors are absolutely necessary for publishing.

If you convince yourself that you positively must run your work through an algorithm before submitting to an agent/publisher/self-pub site, do yourself and your readers a massive favor: get at least two sets of human eyeballs on your writing after the algorithm has done its work.

Because here's the thing:

AI draws from whatever data sets it's trained on, and those data sets famously aren't curated.

You cannot trust it to know whether that's an actual word or just a really common misspelling.

People break conventions of grammar to create a certain effect in the reader all the time. AI cannot be relied upon to know the difference between James Joyce and a bredlik and an actual coherent sentence, or which one is appropriate at any given part of the book.

AI picks up on patterns in its training data sets and imitates and magnifies those patterns-- especially bigotry, and particularly racism.

AI has also been known to lift entire passages wholesale. Listen to me: Plagiarism will end your career. And here's the awful thing-- if it's plagiarizing a source you aren't familiar with, there's a very good chance you wouldn't even know it's been done. This is another reason for other humans than yourself-- more people means a broader pool of knowledge and experience to draw from.

I know a writer who used this kind of software to help them find spelling mistakes, didn't realize that a setting had been turned on during an update, and had their entire work be turned into word salad-- and only found out when the editor at their publishing house called them on the phone and asked what the hell had happened to their latest book. And when I say 'their entire work', I'm not talking about their novel-- I'm talking about every single draft and document that the software had access to.

#writing #writer woes #anti ai

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sports-on-sundays · 2 days

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Hello! Could I request something with Marc Guiu where he is smitten by reader who is two years older than him. She also live abroad. And she doesn't stop saying no to Marc to get into a relationship but Marc is adamant and wants to prove her that they can work a relationship together.

Like reader is studying in uni, having her own problems and doesn't want to add a long-distance relationship on top of those things.

Thank you! And I want to say that I really appreciate reading whatever you write.

Giving you a lot of hugs and hoping that you get your inspiration back 🥰

ready when you are / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc can't get you off his mind. You wish you could get him out of your face.

Warnings: suggestion of depriving oneself of proper self care

Requested?: Yes!

Author's Note: You're literally a lifesaver; thanks so much! Also, I made this a little bit more romantic and emotional than your request suggested, but do you really expect any different from tumblr user sports-on-sundays?!

Sometimes you think that giving Marc Guiu your number was the biggest mistake of your life.

You know it sounds mean, and it's not that you don't like Marc. He's funny; you enjoy chatting with him.

The only thing you did not realise, though, when you gave him your number, was that the boy is smitten by you.

He's stuck on you.

You just thought it'd be kind of cool. You know, you have the opportunity to stay in touch with Marc Guiu. Not world class or anything, but you're a Barcelona girl. It was just a cool idea.

Now, just as you're slipping under your quilt to shut your eyes for some sleep, nearly halfway across from Marc Guiu, in the United States of America (it was a treat to spend a lot of time here), you suddenly, to your dismay, hear your phone vibrating on the end table.

You roll over to snatch it up in annoyance, and sigh even louder when you see it's Marc trying to face time you.

You blow air out through your lips before sitting up and answering, immediately saying, "Is it not, like, 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning there?"

"It's 6:00 A.M.!" the guy beams, his brown eyes sparkling. "You said you didn't want me calling at 9:00 A.M. anymore, since that's like 3:00 A.M. for you, and I'm waking you up in the middle of the night. So I woke up early so I could call you now!"

"Marc," you groan. "It's 12:00 A.M. here! I was just about to go to sleep! Let me make this clear- calling me in the morning for you is off-limits."

His smile very swiftly turns upside, and he almost looks hurt, which immediately fills you with a considerable amount of guilt. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to talk to you."

You sigh. Yeah, because you're mad in love with me, you can't help thinking to yourself. You decide not to say it, and inside respond, "I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Why were you going to bed at 12:00 A.M. anyway? You should be getting more sleep than that... did you not say once you have to wake up at 5:00 A.M....?"

"Oh, Marc," you click your tongue. "With all I've got going on, the last thing I'm worried about is getting enough sleep. I'm holding up two jobs, and having to study, and everyday I give myself at least some time for exploring and travel."

"How do you do all it?" he suddenly asks.

You shrug. "I like living like this. But health isn't my concern like it is yours. We have different priorities. And yours shouldn't be ridding yourself of sleep by waking up early to talk to me, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure..."

"Now, was there something you want to tell me?"

Through the screen, across the world, you can still see the tenderness in his eyes for you. His soft spot for you that's getting just a tad bit dangerous. "No, not really... Just wanted to... hear your voice, I guess."

"Oh... Oh."

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "I guess I just miss you..."

Despite everything, and the fact that you were determined to keep this to yourself, seeing Marc so open now about this still pushes the words out of your mouth as you say, "Well, Marc... My contract ends soon, which means I'll probably be coming home back to Barcelona for my next semester... After that, though, I've got plans for France... But at least that's closer, right? And you've got me for one semester."

You don't like how 'you've got me' sounds. And you know you shouldn't have said it.

Can't give this boy any more false hope than what he already has.

"Oh!" his eyes brighten, and his mouth tilts up once again. "Seriously! I'm so excited to see you again, then!"

You chuckle. "Y- Yeah, me too. Now, can I go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in?"

"Haha! Whoa, Marc, hold your horses, mate!" you laugh as he practically jumps into your arms for a hug, causing you to drop all your bags on the airport floor. "Just because I'm older than you doesn't mean you're not bigger and stronger!"

He grins, pulling away, and immediately scoops up all your bags for you. "I've already got a cab. Come on. I'll bring you to your flat and help you unpack!"

There's not much you can do to deter the Spanish boy, and once you're in your flat, all unpacked, you two plop on the couch. You sigh in relief as you say, "Feels good to be home!"

"Feels good to have you home, Y/n," Marc pipes in.

Even though you really don't want him to think you're interested, some of the little things he says never fail to make you smile, and feel warm inside.

Whether you want it or not, being loved feels good.

But then he slips his hand in yours. "So, the United States. That was the longest you've been away. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

"Probably not as much," you tease truthfully, "and we did face time pretty much every single moment you could. But, yeah, I missed seeing you in 3D."

He grins, and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair, asking softer, "So... are you ready to date me yet?"

You lick your lips. You knew this would come, sooner rather than later. You sigh. "Marc, you know my answer." You begin to slip your hand away.

He grabs it back, and brings it to his chest. Now he's looking at you earnestly. "Please, Y/n..." His happy demeanor has quite suddenly turned almost desperate. "I know we can make this work..."

"Marc, I'm not going to be in a long-distance relationship like that."

He frowns, squeezing your hand tighter, looking you right in your eyes. "We already have a long-distance friendship. Why not a little more than that?"

"That requires more emotional involvement. My heart just can't take that. I can't be getting into relationships like that at this point in my life. Maybe someday, I can settle down and find someone. But you know I'm born to run, Marc..."

He looks down. Wraps your hand in both of his and rests it in his lap. "But we'll both be better off. I can make this work. Just give me a chance. Let me prove it."

"You're eighteen. You should be focused on your own things, like football, and your career, just like I'm focused on my own things, like travelling and studying for college. You shouldn't let yourself care so much about me, Marc," you speak gently, almost soothingly. "Please, please don't find your happiness in me. I'll fail you. You mustn't find perfection in imperfect people."

"But you're perfectly imperfect, just like me. Broken, like me, and I love you for these things..." he looks up again.

"Oh, Marc," you barely whisper, staring into those eyes. "Please don't ever say you love me. It's not good for either of us."

"But I do-"

"Marc," you say, sterner. "With everything else I have on my plate, and with everything else I'm chasing after, I can't give myself to you like that. Not right now. We're both so young, you even younger than me. I'd rather see you as a younger brother than anything else-"

"But Y/n-"

"Let's just be friends, okay?"

He sighs deeply. He doesn't nod, because he doesn't want it. But instead he leans in, resting his head against your shoulder, and wraps his arms around your body.

You sigh as his warmth is spread to you.

"Well, I'll enjoy you while you're here, and call often you when you're off to France. And you could run away and go wherever in the world you want, but please. Please always come back to Barcelona. Please always come back to me. Because I'll always be waiting here for you. And I'll be ready whenever you are. Ready for you whenever you're ready for me."

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defectivehero · 10 hours

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Hello, I would love to see more of your snarky millionaire villain and "not wanting to owe anyone money" hero. Please,,,, it was immaculate,,,, I beg I love it so much. It was such a wonderful read. I wish to see more of them 🥺 ty <333

here's part one of this story. and ahh ty! now, onto part two:

Life after the villain's... generosity... is strange. The hero finds that they're no longer so stressed about paying rent or having enough groceries. They're well-fed and well-rested, for the first time in several months (years). The hero doesn't know how to feel about it all: they're frustrated, wary, exhausted, angry, ashamed. They have never been comfortable with accepting assistance, and the enormous sum of money forced onto them by the villain is an assistance they're entirely unable to refuse (literally). They remember how futile their attempts at resistance felt, as the villain firmly steered them down the sidewalk and forced them to walk in their bank and cash in the check. It was humiliating. They felt their eyes stinging with unshed tears, but they hid their guilt and remorse until they were alone behind the walls of their apartment. Those feelings don't leave them, even as time passes and the memory of that night blurs around the edges.

“You’re a strange one." The hero is torn from their thoughts and they instinctively bristle at the sudden, unexplained voice. When their gaze catches on the villain lurking in the corner of the room, they relax a little. And once they realize that they've relaxed, they scold themself for thinking their enemy's presence could be anything but unnerving.

“…Thanks?” The hero eventually remembers to reply. It seems that the villain has broken into their apartment just to speak to them. Either they have something important to discuss, or their enemy has too much time on their hands. The hero suspects the latter.

“Wasn’t a compliment,” the villain says. The hero rolls their eyes as their enemy continues. “Most people wouldn't need to be blackmailed into accepting a rather large sum of money."

Ah, this again. The hero was foolish to think their enemy would ever let them forget their... arrangement. “I’m not like most people,” they decide to say, after struggling to come up with a response for a few moments.

“Fair enough,” the villain sighs, as if that was a foregone conclusion.

“If I’m being honest,” the hero continues, their mouth moving before their mind can stop it, “Your, ah, gift…" The absolutely outrageous sum of money, the hero thinks, "...gave me some much needed vacation time.” Indeed it did. They enjoyed a few vacation days last week, which was quite the rarity. Not to mention the sudden stability and security they were awarded.

“Really?” The villain asks, crossing their arms over their chest and raising an eyebrow at them. They look frighteningly at ease, despite the indisputable fact that they're standing in a space that isn't theirs.

“Yes,” the hero answers. “I took a day off work for the first time last week.” That statement slips out before they can stop it. Immediately, they feel the villain's gaze focus on them intently.

“The first time?” The villain asks, a strange expression on their face. It looks to be a mix of disbelief and indignation. They cross their arms over their chest. “You’re joking.” They're performing a strange balancing act between boredom and interest. One moment, the villain is listening with rapt attention; the next, they're looking around the room as if they'd rather be literally anywhere else in the world.

Meanwhile, the hero suddenly knows they’ve committed a grave mistake. They remain silent, knowing any further explanation will only make things worse. The villain studies them for a long moment, and even as they continue speaking, it's clear that this conversation will occur again at a later date.

“I’m surprised you didn’t donate the money,” the villain hums, a smile working its way onto their face. The hero nearly sighs in relief at the change in subject.

“I think we both know I tried,” the hero huffs, not realizing their enemy's remark is a trap until it's too late. They engineered that verbal trap just to applaud their own ego.

“Ah, yes,” the villain smirks, their lips parting to reveal sharp teeth. “I blacklisted all of the prominent charities in the area. Rather ingenious of me, I have to admit.” They hold up their hand and look at their nails, before flipping it around to pick at something under their nail.

“There’s so much you could be doing with that kind of time and money,” the hero says with a shake of their head, resisting the urge to bury their head in their hands. They've done far too much agonizing about this for their own good. At some point, they're forced to accept the reality of the situation. Besides, the more attention they devote to the villain's strange and selfish philanthropy, the less energy they have for the more important things.

“But alas,” the villain sighs dramatically, wrapping an arm around their shoulder. The hero stiffens and pushes them off. “What has the world done for me?” They muse.

The hero has had too many circular conversations on the same topic to fall for the bait once more. They know they cannot change their enemy’s mindset, no matter how hard they try. They settle for throwing their hands in the air to indicate their helplessness. The villain seems surprised at their evident agreeableness, as they raise their brows before mimicking the gesture.

"What can we do?" The villain shrugs. "We're mere chess pieces in a far broader battle between good and evil." That's a gross oversimplification, but it still holds some degree of truth. Despite the fact that their enemy's question is clearly rhetorical, the hero's mind latches onto it and tries to pick it apart. What can they do, if they are a mere tool for someone else's use?

"We can hope we're not meant to be sacrifices," the hero eventually responds.

"Touché," the villain acquiesces. A slight smile rises on their face as they take in the space around them, evaluating the hero's apartment design with a critical eye. Eventually, they take a deep breath and announce their departure. "Well, while I'd love nothing more than to stay here and pester you, I'm afraid I've worn out my welcome."

"You were never welcome in the first place," the hero mutters darkly. The hero never invited their enemy over, after all.

Unfortunately, their remark only serves to amuse their enemy. "Now you're getting it," the villain grins, flashing them a mocking thumbs-up before promptly turning down the hall and disappearing from sight. The hero stares at the empty space they occupied for several seconds before finally submitting to the urge to bury their head in their hands in disbelief and irritation.

lol these two are great

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

click here if you’d like to be on/off the tag list!

#defectivehero #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #hero and villain #creative writing

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fletchingbrilliant · 1 day

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already feeling lots of feelings and had to do some kind of sketch to encapsulate my ABSOLUTE ANGST AND DESPAIR so here it is

TEXT-BASED SPOILERS COMMENCE

I also want to take this opportunity to say that if you are looking at the events of this scene and focusing on who is to blame for how things went, you are missing the point

I've been in this kind of situation before. I made mistakes. The other person made mistakes. We were both SUPREMELY wrong in so many different ways and we hurt the everliving FUCK out of each other. And not only that, but it was very clear in retrospect that we had allowed the situation to GET that bad in the first place, that we had no choice but to have to have this really, really shitty encounter. It sucked, and we both had to learn where we went wrong in order to start healing.

This is not to say that neither Stolas nor Blitzø is thereby absolved of any blame. Obviously. And what each did wrong is worth addressing in the conversation about this stage of their lives. But the overall point, I think, is that this is where their paths and choices led them. And they had opportunities to handle things better in the moment, and they didn't. Neither of them listened to the other at crucial moments, and both got swallowed up in their own despair and self-loathing.

In my opinion, this was a MASTERCLASS at showing how... okay, to use the trite as hell expression... 'hurt people hurt people.' But to put it more plainly and less like a Lifetime movie, we have trouble seeing past our own hurt when we've lived that deep in it for so long, and often hurt the ones we care the most about because of it. Blitzø took this in the direction of not letting himself get too close to people... or rather, not letting others get too close to him, because then -- he rationalizes -- he can't hurt them anymore. He's only had one opportunity to have this proven 'wrong,' and that was with the conversation he had with Fizz where they finally both got over their dumb asses and communicated honestly with each other.

But these characters are being handled in a way that is remarkably real, for all the delightful fantasy, hellish humor, and completely badass insanity. Which means that the problem isn't magically healed with one cathartic conversation.

Long story short, obviously don't then shovel all the 'BLAME' onto Stolas, but STOP blaming Blitzø unilaterally. People are way, way, WAY more complicated than that.

Also if you've ever felt emotionally ambushed before, you'll know EXACTLY how Blitzø felt. (Stolas didn't mean to emotionally ambush him, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen)

And a huge huge HUGE thank you to my own personal Blitzø, @zaebeecee, for helping me parse so much of this. <3

#my art #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss full moon #full moon episode #full moon spoilers #helluva boss fanart #helluva boss blitzø #helluva boss stolas #stolitz #blitzø x stolas

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ryomku · 2 days

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to love a friend - gojo satoru

synopsis: Thanks for looking at the cherry blossoms with me Satoru.

character: Gojo Satoru

tags: gojo satoru x reader, gn! reader, one sided crush, angst, no happy ending, use of y/n, no curses au!

a/n: apologies in advance for any mistakes, english is not my first language, curse you gege this is all your fault, not proofread it's like 1 am y'all I'm just sad and stressed lmao

a/n 2: took some inspo from the song: 8 Letters by Why Don't We.

You are the one who knows me best and the one who hurts me most, yet here we are seeing each other.

“Why do I pull you close but then ask you for space?”

“Am I just hurting myself?”

“Why is it so difficult to tell you that I love you?”

Isn't it amazing?

Like every day we meet without missing a beat, days where we love and hate each other.

“Are we going to change it?”

We don't know yet.

“Can I touch your heart?”

“How can I get closer to you?”

Surely I won't be able to, knowing how you are like with a heart that's as hard as stone and cold as ice. Yet, you made mine fragile like glass I am at my limit and anything can easily break it.

“Will the day that I deserve you come by?”

Let me be your love.

It's always you, you're always the one who hurts me, you make an impact in my life.

“Why can't I make an impact in your life?”

I know that if I curse at you it won't hurt, I know that if I yell at you it won't matter and I know that if I leave you won't miss me.

I know you don't love me and I still want to keep trying to win you over even if it's in vain.

“Could you do me a favor, Satoru?” Although I wanted to look into your eyes at that moment, mine only focused on the cherry blossoms and the soft pink petals that fall softly and delicately touch the ground.

I know he doesn't care about me but I still want him to do one last thing for me, I know I've bothered him too much but this is the last thing I ask of you my friend.

“What do you want me to do idiot?”

“Could you take me outside to see the cherry blossoms?”

I know I'm asking a lot of you, but please just do this for me. I fell for you many years ago and I want to be in your arms this time once and for all.

“Sure, I'll take you right now if that's okay.”

“Perfect.”

Every look, every touch makes me want to give you all of me, but I can't and I never will be able to, I know, I know that I don't deserve you and that I'm not enough for you, but at least my dream will come true.

You took me by the hand to the backyard of my house, helped me go down the stairs and stopped every time I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I'm sorry to give you so much work for this last favor.

We walked to the other side of the garden and sat under the cherry tree, as always sitting next to each other. I didn't like it but since this is the last favor I ask of you, I might as well change things. With some effort I got up from my place and let myself fall gently between your legs sensing that you were startled by how sudden everything was, I took your arms and put them around my shoulders so that you could give me a hug.

“Sometimes I wonder, what would happen if I found a soul like mine?”

“What do you mean dumbass?” Those ways you call me don't hurt me anymore Gojo, nothing hurts me anymore.

“I would like to find someone who loves me like I love that person, I want someone who loves me for who I am and not for what I do or what I can give them, I want someone who understands me and is there for me when needed, I would have loved to meet someone like that.”

“You and your love things.”

I know you don't understand them because you don't feel it the way I feel it for you Satoru, I know you don't feel it and you won't.

The sky was painted in dark colors and the clouds looked even more beautiful than before. I adore sunsets and even more so if it's with someone I love, even if that someone doesn't love me like I love them.

I wanted to tell you what I felt at that moment but I know that if I do you will live with that guilt that you did nothing to love me more and I don't like when you feel guilty, I wanted us to have a future in which we continued playing and being side by side like we've done since we were children but Satoru I can't do it anymore.

If I could be half of what you think of me, I could learn to do anything and maybe then you could love me for who I am.

I always thought I was bad but look at you, you are the best, how much I adore you and how much I love you.

Thank you for all these years my faithful friend, my confidant and my love, I will never be able to thank you for everything you have done for me, but at least I enjoyed all these years by your side my beloved, but it is time to go, maybe it hurts you that I'm leaving or maybe not, but I want to think that I am special to you and that at least in some way you love me, even if it's just as a friend.

Thank you for letting yourself be loved without knowing it.

“Thank you for seeing the cherry blossoms with me Satoru, thank you.”

“No problem, I don't mind doing this with you Y/N.”

You very rarely called me by my name, thank you for doing it in the end Satoru

“Satoru, I adore you.”

For the last time I felt my face get wet from the hot tears that I shed for the last time and for the last time I was able to see the cherry blossoms.

Closing my eyes along with the last beats of this sick heart.

Thank you Gojo Satoru, I love you.

The white haired boy felt his friend's body go limp in his arms, tightening the hug on the other body to feel its warmth.

“Did you fall asleep Y/N?”

His friend was finally in eternal slumber, it's a shame that the blue eyed boy didn't notice and slept next to his already dead friend.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #gojo x you

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deanstead · 3 days

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Hi Resa! I hope you’re well! I’m happy to see you on again! ☺️

For the five sentence prompt - would you be willing to write something for Jay Halstead using the sentence “what do you think you’re doing here?” Thanks so much! 🥰

hiii thank you so much! things are slightly better, so i thought i'd try to venture back here + writing!

===

"What do you think you're doing here?"

You wouldn't mistake that figure or walk anywhere, even with his face partially hidden by the umbrella in the pouring rain as you stood under the tiny shelter you were stranded under.

Jay didn't answer and you glared at him as he stepped up toward you. "I'm still mad at you." You added, for good measure.

Honestly, you weren't that mad any longer, but you didn't feel like giving in so easily this time.

"I know," Jay said quietly. "But even so, I couldn't let you get drenched."

You glanced at him and he gave you a small smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him but stepped towards him, as a sign of a truce. "Don't you ever..."

"Never again," Jay whispered, putting a hand around your shoulders and tilting the umbrella toward you before leading you out of the small shelter so that the both of you could return home. Together.

send me an ask with a prompt or a first sentence of a fanfic and I’ll write the next five-ish

#five sentence fics #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead drabble #chicago pd #resa.fics

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back-on-my-autistic-bullshit · 1 day

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Full Moon Stolitz thoughts

Alright I'm getting on this shit because I am obsessed with Stolitz unironically. Before I start this I want to be absolutely clear that (in my opinion) there is no "right" side in the overall situation between Blitz and Stolas. Both equally have problems that contribute to their miscommunication and I can sympathise with both of them. If you disagree, feel free to ignore this post and scroll on, I don't mind friendly debate with people I know well but strangers on the internet are a different story.

I do generally project heavily onto Blitz which yeah probably impacts my interpretation of this a lot but I'm just a guy on tumblr I'm not here to be 100% right I'm just posing my take on their behaviours etc etc

Mandatory Disclaimer: spoilers start below! Do not click read more if you care about spoilers for The Full Moon episode of Helluva Boss

That all said, I'm splitting this into three parts:

Blitz's behaviour throughout the episode

Stolas' behaviour throughout the episode

Blitz and Stolas' confrontation/argument/interaction at the end of the episode

Part One: Blitz's behaviour

Starting off with "When I See Him", the basics of it (that is played up a bit for comedy and more or less directly stated really at the start) is that Blitz is obviously covering up how he really feels by concentrating entirely on the sex he anticipates having, and acting like that is what is important to him.

Are we okay? Can't really say I'm getting by By avoiding his questions It's so complicated, I hate when it's complicated Why do I always end up in situations that are complicated?

Blitz knows there is something wrong, or off, between the two of them but he'd rather not talk or communicate about it - literally preferring to avoid the topic entirely because "complicated" = bad, and he has no idea how to fix that, despite the fact that most of his relationships have been and/or are still complicated, he doesn't know how to deal with that because he never learnt. He's started to with Fizz a bit at the very least, but he's definitely not in a place to do that with romantic relationships yet - but I digress.

Here I go again, getting in my head So I'll focus on the sexy stuff instead

Not too much to say about this part other than he is actively choosing to disregard his anxieties and worries about him and Stolas by putting on this mask of caring about the sex and nothing else. Honestly, not a surprise with Blitz, this is pretty average behaviour and is very much likely a common coping mechanism of his to avoid serious feelings when engaging in relationships of a romantic nature. Especially since he seems to place a lot of value in himself in how good he is in bed.

When I see him, I'm gonna do that thing he likes No need to change things, I'll just bring the ropes and spikes[/spice*] We've got a nice arrangement And it's working out just fine We'll keep it light

Can't wait to lose ourselves in nasty sex And make that bird squawk We'll just stick with what makes sense

Same as above, he's going to what's familiar and directly deciding he'd rather ignore any issues they have and not talk about them in favour of doing what they normally do on full moons and call it a night.

*my audio processing disorder really did not like that line, and I cannot completely tell if that's right - any mistakes in lyrics or other quotes from the show before or after this are almost definitely because of this so please feel free to correct me.

Moving on from the song, some things Blitz does or says during the conversation with Moxxie and Loona in the office that stick out to me.

It's the full moon, I gotta meet up with Stolas tonight. Felt like dressing up a little since it's been a few months since I've been inside his feathered ass.

This is personally really interesting to me since he's not been known to dress up explicitly to see Stolas before (excluding the posts that have been seen on the instagram accounts but I'm hesitant to count those as 100% hard canon, and they were outfits of a different variety - not a bowtie and suspenders as he's seen wearing in the episode). It's like he's trying very hard to impress him for.. some reason? I'm guessing he sees it as part of his whole plan to really sort of wow Stolas, get in there, get out, no touchy feely stuff. It comes off as the opposite to me though, it shows that he kind of values what Stolas think of him and his appearance - and that he wants to impress Stolas. This could just be him trying to prove his worth to Stolas so he doesn't get cast aside, but it could also be more.

This facial expression is very important to me. It's a split second frame of vulnerability in response to Loona saying the following:

Oh shit, he's getting bored of you.

This is genuine worry and concern on his face, he tried to cover it up with a smile but he is concerned. And yes, it could just be about losing the book, it probably is in part but I think it's more than that.

Loona also says this:

Yeah, man. If someone wants to see you less and less, big red flag. If they give you chances to ditch, they probably want out themselves. Just wanna be more passive aggressive about it, dicks.

When she says this Blitz reacts very on the defensive, repeating what she said mockingly and saying this:

How do you know, Loona?

It's a very defensive reaction and I'd bet he feels at least a little bit bruised and hurt at the thought of Stolas getting "bored" of him - which probably does not help at all with how he's struggling with how he currently feels about Stolas between the agreement for the book and not seeing him in a while.

Immediately after this interaction, he literally leaves his job (which like, yeah, he is own his boss I Guess he can do that whenever he wants but I can't imagine he does it a lot, I Hope, unless he thinks it's important) and goes shopping for more things to impress Stolas. It's a lot of effort to put into someone you don't really super care about, all things considered but let's just go with the devil's advocate here that it's not to lose the book and it doesn't really mean anything. Although I do find his choice to look at candles first interesting, assuming it's not for something else (resident sex repulsed asexual is struggling with thinking about that kind of thing - despite watching helluva boss lmao), Stolas seems to like candles. If I remember correctly, he has some near his bath.

An interesting detail for Blitz to know/remember/take into account, for someone he allegedly does not care about. Anddd that's it for Blitz's scenes in this episode.

Part 2: Stolas' Behaviour

Like with Blitz, I'm gonna focus on how Stolas acts in "When I See Him" first, then move on to what we see of him alone in the rest of the episode (which there's very little of, I think, unfortunately).

The summary of what I think of Stolas in this song is he clearly has a somewhat fairytale view of his relationship with Blitz still (which is only emphasised by how the song is disney princess like in nature), thankfully he knows he has to let him be separate from the terms of their agreement and has found a way for this to occur without horribly impacting Blitz's business. However, he (at least, at first) seems to think after this happens everything will go fine and be perfectly okay and happily ever after, or more likely hopes that is how the situation will end up - but we see more of his worries later on so he's evidently not completely deluding himself.

My derring-do is half disguised Behind a smile

I don't have a lot to say about this just that it shows Stolas is obviously aware that Blitz is performing at least a little when he's with him.

I swore I wouldn't dwell on the divorce

This line just interests me more than anything, it's understandable that he doesn't want to think about the divorce. God knows I wouldn't want to, but's it intriguing to see he's attempting to distance himself from it - I hope we see more about this in the future episodes, maybe.

So for my own health I'll remind myself That when I see him I know that it won't feel so tough I'll believe him And not the voice that says I'm not enough No need for an arrangement It can just be him and me I'll see us free How perfect it could be When I see him tonight

This bit is very sweet honestly, Stolas clearly yearns to be closer to Blitz - and he's trying his best to facilitate that. He just wants genuine connection and love, something he couldn't experience in his marriage with Stella. Stolas is obviously nervous and has some self worth issues to say the least, but he deals with them differently to Blitz. In fact, he finds that being with Blitz helps combat these (likely because he feels loved and/or wanted by someone).

Unrelated to dissecting the episode and the like, the voice acting for this part was incredible and I love the way Stolas' VA (his name has slipped my mind atm) conveys emotion in his voice - even while singing. He sounds very hopeful, yet the cracks and wobbles suggest how nervous he feels for the interaction with Blitz, even if he's currently acting as if he thinks it will end well.

Oh god I'll fucking die alone if this goes bad tonight

This bit really just kind of shows how nervous he does feel about talking with Blitz about giving him the crystal. And that he is scared it'll go wrong, it's nothing too crazy.

The detail of him having none of the medication he takes left is interesting to me though, just that he's still taking it, I guess - could suggest he's still struggling with anxiety etc etc.

Am I doing something I can't take back? Would he want me if he was free? And if he's only here as a prisoner What kind of a monster does that make me

Stolas is clearly feeling a lot of guilt for his past treatment of Blitz, and fear that his feelings aren't reciprocated - but it seems like he's more scared that he's been taking advantage of Blitz, than the thought that Blitz doesn't like him.

My entire life's been written in stone He taught me that I could choose

Blitz is the first person he really chose to meet or associate with, as a child and as an adult. There was no obligation to know him or socialise with him, or to be his friend (or more). In fact, it was discouraged if anything but Stolas chose to do it anyway - and it helped him realise he could do what he wanted, and gain the confidence to do so.

Part 3: Blitz and Stolas' confrontation

Stolas' body language here kills me, he's so nervous for what he's about to do, and despite his hopeful song early he's eerily somber - as if he knows this will end badly.

Blitz looks so afraid here, he's gone through all of this effort to try to impress Stolas and keep him from getting "bored" of him. Part of this is probably because he doesn't want to lose the connection he and Stolas have but honestly it's largely probably the fear of losing the book and his business that he's worked so hard for. Blitz is an incredibly ambitious person, and he's put a lot of blood, sweat and tears (mostly blood) into I.M.P and to have it taken away because of someone else due to not being good enough for them is probably one of his worst fears.

Blitz's immediate switch to trying to seduce Stolas is slightly jarring, but not all that surprising considering how this whole thing started. Blitz is desperate, trying anything to prove to Stolas he's worth keeping around. Meanwhile Stolas looks resigned, as if realising it really was just a performance for Blitz the entire time.

Stolas, please, I- I need this book. Please, I need this book, Stolas. I will do anything.

The immediate switch to begging, mixed with tears, took me off guard honestly. I didn't expect to see him do that but it makes sense considering how badly he treasures I.M.P and he really is just at the whim of Stolas and it could all collapse at any given moment.

I don't understand, why are you giving me this? Am I not like, fucking you good enough? Because I can- I can always do better.

This being Blitz's immediate reaction to getting the crystal from Stolas is upsetting. I was on the verge of tears here, he can't even comprehend that Stolas might genuinely want to give him a gift, not because Blitz isn't good enough, but because Stolas wants him to be independent. Blitz has never viewed himself as "good enough" for people and he puts on a lot of performances to convince himself he's worthy of being associated with others. This probably feels like, to him, a convoluted way of "getting rid" of him, instead of giving him freedom so he and Stolas can interact with less of a power imbalance.

This in an interesting roleplay, never done this one but I can get into it. How's this? Oh, Stolas, I'll stay with you, I love you soo much.

Blitz's immediate response to Stolas' confession being one of disbelief leading him into thinking it's some sort of roleplay or pretense because he can't possibly believe that anyone would actually love him is honestly worse case scenario and probably where all of this starts going downhill.

I have my answer, Blitz. You needn't say anything. I have wanted you, for so long. The fact that you couldn't believe that I might have these feelings about you, that your first instinct is that it's always about... sex. That's enough to know what this is.

This right here, is terrible. Miserable, even. Communication is starting to break down, Stolas doesn't realise or understand Blitz's point of view and I certainly cannot blame him for getting upset but how these two are communicating yet somehow falling victim to miscommunication at the same time is impressive at this point. They're both getting emotional, and it's fucking everything up but to be fair no one can remain 100% logical, this is nerve wracking and stressful for them both.

What? Fuck you, Stolas. You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding? Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you've put me through, you pompous rich asshole? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can't just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important! Well, I'm not letting you, bitch! Let's go!

This, this is incredibly cathartic in a weird way. It's not good by any means but for Blitz these bitter feelings have probably been somewhat simmering beneath the surface for a while and he hasn't been able to express them because of the nature of his and Stolas' relationship. The way he's phrasing this makes me wonder if he has previous experience with a royal demon doing this to him outside of now, and Stolas' father hiring him to be Stolas' friend when he was a child. It wouldn't be too unreasonable but putting that aside for a moment. The anger and lashing out here is probably a defense mechanism on his part, every time something has got vulnerable or upsetting in the past in this show Blitz always seems to get angry (an example that comes to mind at the minute is when Cash was celebrating Fizz's birthday - at the time he didn't say anything to Fizz but he stormed off, angry. Another one could be probably a few of his interactions with Verosika. I'd have to rewatch the show to find something more particular). The point is Blitz lashes out instead of being open and vulnerable, he doesn't mean or genuinely think any of this - and immediately regrets it as soon as he says it. But it's too late, it's been said.

Stolas flinches or pauses when walking a handful of times during this rant from Blitz, each time whenever he has an insult. Before he has even said anything it's immensely clear Stolas is very hurt by this.

Blitz. I think so very highly of you, I didn't realise you think so low of me.

This is the regret I was talking about, it's probably helped along by Stolas admitting he thinks highly of Blitz but god - he is crushed. And he immediately tries to apologise but Stolas teleports him out of there before he can even process it, leaving us on a terrible cliffhanger.

God, it's a fucking mess. They're a mess I'm so scared for the next episode and how they are even going to fix this. Someone get these gay demons a therapist, please, I beg.

All in all, ow my feelings, this episode hurt, I did cry. Stolitz have mastered the art of miscommunication, but that is hardly news. Blitz seems to have got a genuine wake-up call, sort of similar to how he did with Fizz and I'm hoping that kickstarts something to help him improve, because he does need to. At the same time, Stolas has kinda fucked up here, and does need to give Blitz more time to process since I imagine this is very fucking shocking to him. It's all one biggggg mess and god knows how it'll work out but I'm looking forward to finding out and hopefully not having my heart ripped out and spat on by the end of this season.

#helluva boss #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss stolitz #stolas goetia #blitzo buckzo #stolitz #helluva boss full moon #helluva boss s2 e8 spoilers #helluva boss full moon spoilers #helluva boss spoilers #original content things

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