: I Will Never Get Over It - Tumblr Posts

DAECHWITA: Chapter 4

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

“Please be with me tonight, princess,” he came closer to you with quiet steps, “Let me hold you in my arms again.” “Hyunjin, don’t–” “Please,” he started begging with his eyes as well as his words while sneakily wrapping one hand around your waist, “Please. I can’t stand being without you anymore.”

Chapter 4: Sanity Fair

📜8.2K words | Approx. 35-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings. For this chapter, there are some elements I'm not willing to explicitly "warn" for in order not to spoil what's ahead. Read at your own risk: Threesome, spitroasting, dom/sub dynamics, referenced foot fetish, lowkey dacryphilia, praising, deepthroating, spitting, hair pulling, squirting, hate sex, verbal degradation (m rec.), pegging. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

I cannot breathe.

Your mind felt stuffy. It was multiple uppercuts you had to endure in the span of a single night. Multiple decisions made, none of which seemed right. It felt like there were several splinters on your fingers, and if you failed to find the courage to stick a needle to remove them, callous skin was going to form over each and every one of those, just to drive you insane with the sustained lack of relief. A constant reminder of your embarrassing lack of control over your willpower.

You’re weak.

Not only were you not allowed to see Chris again, but you were also relieved from your assistant duties to his class, which you assumed was to make you cut contact with him completely. The fact that you couldn’t do anything about all this frustrated the crap out you—you were trying really hard to remember the last time you felt this helpless so that it could spark an idea to help you deal with it. 

Something. 

Anything. 

To no avail. 

You eventually buried yourself in your studies as a desperate attempt for self-distraction. With time, the wildfire of severe withdrawal gradually turned into a burning amber, but it still refused to die out completely. It kept slowly burning inside you, reminding you of what his soul felt like, what his eyes looked like, what his laughter sounded like, what his skin tasted like. You could feel the longing reaching dangerous levels of uncontainable, and even you weren’t sure what you were capable of doing if it threatened to pour out of you one day. Not solely because of one night of intimacy you shared, but because… It felt like you lost a friend. The friend.

You weren’t recalling the remains of Chris every now and then. He just never left your mind.

“The Queen would like you to take on the instructional duties of her son.”

You were convinced even years later you were going to remember where you were, what you were doing, what you were wearing, and what time it was when you heard that sentence. Your heart dropped to your stomach at full force, doing multiple backflips on the way. It was so hard not to smile. So fucking hard. You had to exert conscious effort to make it seem like you weren’t readily accepting it, but finally… Finally you could see him again. You didn’t know for how long this was going to be your new assignment, but you didn’t even care. Even just once would be more than enough. Just once to get your fix, hug him tight when no one was looking maybe so that it could last you for a little while.

Was there a snowflake’s chance in hell that… that he asked for it himself? Would it be at all possible that somewhere on these grounds there was a man going through the exact same things you were going through?

That night you laid in your bed with your arm over your forehead, just looking at the ceiling. You didn’t even know what prompted that but you found yourself contemplating the discrepancies between day and night. Black and white. Chris and Hyunjin. 

How was it even possible that two citizens of the same womb born into the same family, having the exact same upbringing could be this drastically different from each other? Even when they came so close to possessing the same color, the shades were so distinct, like the battle of bright red orange versus luscious burgundy. While Chris was the definition of the toasty warmth of soothing coziness, Hyunjin felt like boiling hot water—when you dipped your finger in it, your synapses wouldn’t be able to instantly register the extreme temperature, so you’d think it was actually awfully cold at first. Only after some time passed, no matter how brief, would you let out a cry of pain, and end up getting blisters on your skin. You thought, you thought, and you eventually thought yourself to sleep.

Until…

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she? Makes you wanna fuck her awake.”

“Don’t be crass.”

You weren’t able to tell whether the whispers were real, or just a byproduct of your imagination, but when you opened your eyes, you jumped in your bed seeing two shadows towering over you, regardless of how familiar they looked.

“Shh, it’s me beautiful,” Hyunjin laid down next to you and caressed your hair to calm you down, “I invited a guest tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”

You squinted your eyes to make them adjust to the darkness and followed the shadow making its way to the other side of you.

“Chris? Is that you?”

“Told you she had her eyes on you,” Hyunjin softly chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, “Yes, it’s the golden boy you've been dying to fuck, princess.”

The golden who that you–? What?

“I missed you, baby,” Chris made himself comfortable on your right side, “When Hyun wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night, it riled me up a bit too much, so we wanted to pay you a secret visit.”

You… You weren’t supposed to know. Nobody is supposed to know. How d–?

“What– What does that even mean? I’m so confused.”

“I know you’ve been really confused lately, so I figured we could make it easier for you,” Hyunjin dragged his finger from your shoulder down your arm and spoke into your ear, “Why settle for one of us when you can have both of us?”

The shock. The immediate clash of the dark and bright. The prospect of being desired by two men who share the same DNA versus the absolute condemnation of it going at each other’s throats to death. Surrendering against resisting. 

Why were you even hesitating?

You’re weak.

“You’re… You’re brothers.”

“Brothers, schmothers, let’s not get too caught up in the fine print, princess,” Hyunjin’s lips found their way to your neck, and he spoke before latching himself to you, “No one will know. I promise.”

As Hyunjin did what he did best, disarming your defenses one kiss at a time, Chris’ hand made it to your inner thigh and kept stroking you in a manner between affectionate and arousing.

“Sorry in advance, but I'll keep you up again.” 

The deep voice coming from your right hardly cleared the fog in your mind.

“Again? But you–”

“I don’t tire that easily, baby,” his lips brushed against yours, “We're gonna fuck all night.”

Chris seemed like he got confidence steroids injected into him. The shy guy who was barely able to tell you what he liked was nowhere to be found, possessed from head to toe by this sex god instead, telling you what was about to go down. Yet, no matter how you looked at it, the turn of events uncontrollably unfolding right before your eyes was so wrong that you despised yourself for being this aroused by it.

“But isn’t that why it’s such a fucking turn on, baby?”

“How did you–?”

“Shh,” Chris pressed his fingers on your lips, “I know everything.”

“Don’t think,” Hyunjin slithered his left hand into your nightgown to feel your breasts, “Just let this happen.”

You’re weak.

After flipping off the voice in your head, you took a deep breath like you were about to go underwater, clueless if you were ever going to come back up, and let yourself go. 

“Every time I see you, I get this feral urge to fuck you senseless, you know? Look at what you’re doing to me,” Chris closed your hand over his bulge to make you palm him, “It hurts so bad. Can you kiss it better? Please?”

Still in the middle of kissing his soul out of him, you slid your hand inside Chris’ bottoms. He felt amazing to the touch, just so smooth and warm, throbbing in your hand for more friction.

“Let me see you, beautiful,” Hyunjin stopped peppering kisses all over your collarbones and caressed your hips, “Arch that perfect thing for me.”

You positioned yourself between Chris’ legs and arched your ass all the way up for Hyunjin to admire. He slid your underwear down to expose you for him fully, grazing his teeth on the supple skin and clearly fighting the urge to bite into it. It was his degenerate excellency for fuck’s sake; when was ‘regular’ ever enough for him? While you were ridding Chris of his bottoms, you felt some movement between your legs. When you looked down, you saw Hyunjin’s porcelain features directly facing your pussy, and he pushed your hips down towards his mouth to indulge in his favorite pastime activity.

“God, that feels so fucking good.”

Hyunjin loved getting a rise out of you every time he ate your pussy like that was a fine dining experience, meant to be savored and consumed over the course of a couple of hours. This wasn’t a basic need to be quickly satisfied just to feel full—he was fully aware it was a luxury not affordable by everyone, not even to those who were well-endowed. You felt the familiar vibrations of his soft laughter against your folds as you kept grinding on his face.

“Like what you see, huh?” Chris brushed his thumb on your cheek while lazily smiling with one hand behind his nape, “I can see you drooling.”

“You look… a bit too good… spread on my bed like that.”

“Choke on it for me, baby, come on.”

Perfect. Everything about him was just perfect. His firm skin begging to be touched by you, his sandalwood pheromones invading the whole goddamn room, getting you way more riled up than you should have ever been. The deep husky moans he let out with every stroke were complete music to your ears, meant to be listened to on repeat during still nights. The way he wouldn’t break eye contact with you when you hollowed your cheeks, his brows furrowed so hard making him look like he was furious when you took him deep down your throat was everything. Chris kept caressing your hair like he wanted to soothe you.

“You’re fucking ascending me,” he let out a throaty groan while throwing his head back with his eyes closed, “You’ll swallow all of it, right? My baby girl won't waste a drop.”

Baby girl. His baby girl. 

His. 

His. 

His.

You weren’t able to identify the exact feeling that address induced, but it was so strong that you didn’t even hesitate to choke on Chris with all you got until you made him cum into your mouth. The way he was loudly moaning for you made you clench on Hyunjin’s lips. 

Hard.

“Kiss me, baby. Show me what I taste like.”

You made a move towards Chris, but Hyunjin wouldn’t let your hips go. He pushed you down on his mouth instead while sliding his tongue inside you to lock you in your place. When you managed to sit up, it was literally you sitting on his pretty face, and the sight seemed to have annoyed Chris for some reason.

“Play nice, Hyun,” he pulled you towards himself and turned you around to get you comfortable on his lap, “Sit on it now. Let me get hard inside you again.”

Chris had just cum, but when he still met resistance trying to slide into you, it made him chuckle.

“I’m barely hard, but you’re still this tight,” he quietly moaned into your ear, “Love it when you’re dripping. Fucking love stretching you open.”

Meanwhile, Hyunjin slid your nightgown all the way up to your waist to expose you for him and positioned himself between your legs, the shadow passing through his face still somewhat visible in the darkness of the room.

“Settled, baby? Can I fuck you back to sleep now?” Chris placed a tiny kiss on your earlobe, “Legs open wide for me. I wanna watch how he devours that pretty pussy.”

This was Hyunjin’s cue to step into the spotlight, which stained his lips with a half-smile. He started eating you out properly while Chris fucked into you with languid thrusts.

“Just like that. Getting wetter on me,” he hissed into your ear, “Feel it. Feel me get harder inside you. Does he make you feel good, too?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you threw your head back on his shoulder.

“But it feels better inside you, right? This is how you do it. Look,” Chris placed his hand on yours and instructed you, “Guide his head to your moans. He loves that. Will eat better.”

This was simply the most horrendously wrong thing you ever engaged in that made you feel this fucking good. You were still viscerally aware of it and were forcing yourself to have an internal conflict about it. You had to, that was the right thing to do, but the fact of the matter was nobody would be able to have their logic intact while getting fucked into oblivion by two young gods.

“Much better, huh?” Chris kissed your neck, “He may eat pussy for his own pleasure, but I fuck you for yours. You know that right?”

“Chris...”

“Let’s make out, baby. Let him watch us, too. Get him to leak.”

He slid his hands inside the smooth fabric hiding you from him to fondle your breasts, and kept fucking into you while inhaling your lips. It was the way he moaned into you that almost made you lose your mind for good.

“God, I’m so fucking gone for you. No one can take dick this well,” Chris turned his attention to Hyunjin and chastised him out of the blue, “Stop eating with manners, motherfucker. The audience wants to hear you slurping.”

Hyunjin took it as an order and started eating you out with pornographically wet sounds, trapping your clit within his lips and releasing it in frequent intervals.

“Ah, fuck!”

“Shh, that’s it, baby. Into me. Relax,” then Chris continued with his orders, “I want her teased everywhere. Do your thing.”

The stimulations from both sides began to overwhelm you. Your legs were shaking and your breathing was getting labored. The only thing your mind was able to process was extreme pleasure and all twenty-one undertones of it.

“Shh, shh, you’re taking it so well, baby. So fucking well. You’re making me so proud,” Chris locked his hands under your knees to keep them open, “Spread wider. I’ll fuck you so good while he gets you soaked. Then we're gonna get you to squirt on his pretty face and you'll let me watch you clean that mess.”

One man behind you whispering the filthiest things your eardrums had ever let in as if he was reading you a bedtime story, the other between your legs luxuriating in the most delectable delicacy he could get his hands on… You were feeling yourself getting overcome by excessive gratification by the second as they both picked up their pace.

“Spit on it. I said I want this pussy soaked,” Chris gently spread your labia to expose your clit more, “Right there. She loves it there.”

You felt the intensity when Hyunjin did as he was told. Come to think of it, it was a bit unlike him to ‘take orders’. Even when you were completely disarmed like that, you briefly wondered whether that was because it was his older brother talking to him, or because he actually liked being told what to do.

“Just like that. Suck on it nice and good. I wanna see that clit swollen.”

“Hyunjin…”

“Feels so good, right? Shh, I know, I know. You’re doing amazing. Kiss me,” Chris turned your face to him to taint your lips with himself again, “I’ll let him take care of you this once. Then I'm gonna eat it myself properly, baby. It's mine.”

You clenched so hard and you were sure both of them felt it this time. Chris flashed a perverse smile against your mouth.

“You have a thing for sitting on pretty boys' faces, don't you? Turns you the fuck on.”

“Stop fucking exposing me!” you turned your face away from him.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he kissed your hair while filling his lungs to the brim with your scent, “Say, wanna make him cum untouched?”

“How would you know how to do that?”

“Told you. I know everything,” he responded empathically, “Tell him how pretty he is. He's so weak for that.”

You turned your attention to Hyunjin between your legs, completely in his own world. He really wasn’t lying when he said he ate pussy for his own pleasure. You ran your fingers through his silky hair and spoke in a soft tone, taking deep breaths in between your words to suppress your moans.

“He knows how pretty he is, doesn’t he? He knows he's pleasure materialized.”

Then it hit you. You remembered how thickly he gulped when he saw your toe ring the first night he came into your room.

“Want me to stroke you with my feet? You can cum on them if you want,” you teased while still stroking his hair, “Only if you promise to clean them of course.”

Hyunjin’s moans were clearly audible for the first time that night.

“Want me to put on some heels for you? I'll even paint my toes in your favorite color so you can worship them properly.”

He moaned louder. You and Chris chuckled at his reaction.

“Look at how he's fucking losing it. Grab him by his hair now,” Chris instructed you calmly with a soft voice, “Shove his head into your pretty pussy, baby. Choke him.”

It was when you did exactly as told that Hyunjin started going feral, squeezing his eyes due to how much pleasure it was inducing in him.

“See? Moans louder when you do that.”

You watched Hyunjin with your lips parted, taking this egotistical pleasure in seeing him go to town on you like that. Getting a man that looked this hypnotically beautiful, this tantalizing to absolutely lose it for you… The sight was so delectable that it made you feel like nothing but a fucking goddess.

“But you're just so pretty. Your lips were made to eat pussy. Look how good they look sucking on my clit.”

The way he looked dead into your eyes at that moment while pleasuring you as if he wanted to fuck your soul. His gaze was darker than the dusk enveloping the room, and how much it turned you on was simply unreal.

“So fucking thick and juicy, my god. Let me kiss those lips, pretty face.”

Hyunjin unleashed himself at you like he was waiting on standby. His lips were all swollen and wet by then, his chin excessively coated with your arousal to the point that it was dripping. He was kissing you like he wanted to eat you alive. You grabbed his hands and squeezed them to stop him from touching himself at all costs.

“What is it with your obsession with pretty pussies? Can't fucking control yourself?”

Of course. He told you that he had no self-control himself, but it still made you fucking furious how weak he got in front of any pussy he deemed pretty. Somebody had to be reminded of what he was allowed to eat.

“Look at you. You’re so pretty you make me wanna hurt you. I wanna sit on your beautiful face just to defile it. I'm gonna make you fucking cry under me. You're gonna be even prettier.”

Hyunjin moaned with his eyes closed, but you didn’t lie. You had so much pent-up anger towards him. How fucking dare he looked for another when you were right there.

“Tell him what he does to you, baby,” Chris kissed your shoulder and placed his chin on it, “Tell him.”

“He knows what he's doing to me,” you flashed a smile as dark as Hyunjin’s eyes, still speaking in a comforting tone that didn’t match the thorns of your words, “You do, don’t you? You turn me on so much it pisses me the fuck off.”

He moaned louder. You pressed your forehead against his and carried on with your assault.

“I fucking hate how much I wanna fuck you on sight. You’re driving me fucking insane.”

Even louder. That was the moment you whispered right into his ear with so much air, quite convinced of the consequences that were going to follow.

“But I love it when you cum so much because of me, pretty face.”

“Oh, FUCK me!”

The only thing you aggressively stroked was his gargantuan ego, yet Hyunjin still came all over your crotch, heartbeat running loose to the point that you could feel it on his forehead.

“Tsk, look at this mess,” you pecked his lips while Hyunjin was still trying to come down, and laid back into Chris’ arms again, “Clean it for me now, will you?”

While Hyunjin was slurping on the trail he left on you, you kept whispering quiet odes to his beauty and what a stellar job he was doing, which only seemed to have skyrocketed his enthusiasm. Meanwhile, you felt Chris getting even harder inside you, and it was quite apparent he had run out of patience by then.

“You’re so fucking hot when you get nasty like that,” he repositioned you on his lap to be able to reach a particular spot he had in mind, “This is where I make you cum so hard.”

The lazy movements that had been going on for who knows how long mutated into hard precise thrusts. The sudden peak in delicious pressure alerted your whole entire body.

“Good god, Chris!”

“You like it right here, huh?” he palmed both your breasts from behind you and began fondling them, “I’ll hit that so good it’s gonna fucking blow your mind, baby. Don’t hold back.”

Hyunjin wasn’t about to let you cum without him included, which immediately prompted him to start lapping at your clit. That concoction of pressure and stimulation as well as the loud moans of three different people mixed together rapidly devolved beyond endurable. In a matter of seconds, you violently snapped and watched yourself squirt partially on Hyunjin's face and partially in his mouth.

“That’s it. There you go. Does just as she’s told, my baby girl,” Chris attacked you with kisses all over your shoulders, your neck, and the side of your face, “Let me keep fucking you when you ride it out.”

“Don’t think so. I believe she has some cleaning to do on my face, don’t you princess?” Hyunjin rose from his position, “We’re switching.”

“Make me,” Chris shot an annoyingly challenging smile, “I think she’s pretty comfortable where she is. You can leave us be.”

“Tell him you want me more, beautiful. He needs to hear it from you.”

Not that you were in a state of full rationality at that moment, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say that. Not to mention, it was obvious that Hyunjin wasn’t demanding a line for the sake of a scene; he wanted to hear what he thought was the truth. The more your silence ensued, the more visibly angrier he was getting.

“Tell him. What’s stopping you?”

The smirk on Chris’ lips when he uttered that sentence was the last straw for the younger one.

“Because she loves me, brother.”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Hyunjin reached under your bed to pull a gun out of nowhere and aimed it at you and Chris, causing both of you to take defensive stances.

“Tell him you don’t.”

“Hyunjin, calm down.”

“Tell him.”

“Hyunjin–”

“I said fucking TELL HIM!”

BANG!

You woke up gasping for air to the sounds of fireworks going off on the grounds for Dragon Day celebrations. Drenched in sweat and your heartbeat through the roof, you immediately felt your chest for a sign of blood or people in your room. There was no one. You tried to shoo away the haze of disorientation by checking under your bed as well as the time, which showed 12 AM sharp. Not only were you scared to death, almost on the brink of a heart attack if not a stroke, but you were also confused to the point of questioning your whole entire existence.

Maybe dreams were much like our instincts, and they were trying to tell you something.

That morning as you were making your way to The Zen Room on the main residence, you were hoping from the bottom of your soul that the room was aptly named because there was no way you would able to contain the civil war going on inside you. You weren’t even sure how long it had been since you last saw Chris, but it felt like forever ago. It didn’t matter a single bit; it could have been since yesterday for all you cared—nothing could justify how much you had missed him. You took a deep breath and finally slid the ornate door open. 

It smelled like jasmine tea inside. The entire place was backlit due to the room facing an interior garden, much like the little backyard you had in your building. The only things visible at first sight were the scripts adorning the walls and the little wooden table on the floor harboring two rolls of parchment, inkstone and sticks along with a variety of brushes neatly placed next to each other. Disturbingly symmetrically.

And his figure overlooking the little life-size terrarium with his back turned to you, seemingly holding a tea cup in his hands. You couldn’t control the smile on your face as you started taking purposefully slowed-down steps towards him.

“Since when are you into calligraphy, bathroo–? Oh.”

The vague figure turned his back and allowed the sun rays to kiss him. Your disappearing smile began to resurface on those porcelain features you knew all too well.

“Since always, princess.”

As he put his teacup away, you sat down and channeled all your attention on the little table—a bit too little for you to keep a proper distance. More importantly, however…

Why did this feel like you fell for a trap?

“Care to inform me why I have been summoned here?” you asked, eyes scanning each piece of instrument in front of you. Hyunjin sat diagonal to you with exorbitant amounts of grace like he was about to put on a performance, very unlike a clueless student would.

“I am just horrible with traditional characters. I would very much like to master cursive.”

“It’s a little presumptuous of you to think I can help you with something your tutors cannot, your grace.”

Hyunjin grabbed one of the middle-sized brushes, which you assumed were made of fox hair, and brushed his thumb on it.

“Mother knows best, don’t you think? She says there is nothing our resident prodigy is unable to do,” a very content smile tainted his lips, “And I couldn’t agree more.”

How bored out of his mind must he have been consulting to such means to entertain himself? This was like a little skit for his excellency, and you were in no mood to humor him. Traditional cursive script? Why of course, by all means, maybe it was time to drag this spoiled brat to hell and back.

“I wasn’t given a schedule,” you poured a little water into the stone and started grinding the ink stick, “As you would understand, I have studies of my own. For how long is this going to last?”

“Let’s just say twice a week for as long as it’s necessary,” Hyunjin watched the way you were making ink with complete fascination, “If it ever comes to that, your graduation requirements can be adjusted. We happen to know some people.”

“With all due respect, I like earning my achievements rather than having them handed to me,” you responded with a total lack of pause, “I understand if it’s a difficult concept for you to grasp, though.”

Hyunjin was asking for it. He was asking for it because, for some unexplainable reason, he realized how much it was tickling him when you talked back to him, and rightfully so. He was aware of the glass wall you insisted on putting up between the two of you. He was aware that it disappeared when the room temperature rose through the roof, and that it solidified back again the morning after. Leading a life where he simply took and took and took whatever the fuck he pleased, he didn’t know how to give, yet the more you resisted him, the more it made him wanna crush that wall into mere dust for good. So that he could give you everything.

You held the bamboo handle of the brush and soaked it with the ink you just made. Your grip was just firm enough to not let the brush fall off your fingers.

“Please observe,” you scraped the excess ink on the edge of the inkstone and began drawing the first of six characters you had in mind.

The landing, the dragging, the finishing. The strokes and the hooks. You were dancing on that piece of parchment and Hyunjin was watching you with nothing but awe on his face.

“Now copy it with me.”

It was obvious. You may not have gone through the insufferably formal royal tutoring, but your teacher was your father. Watching him for all those years also taught you to differentiate skilled hands from the ones pretending to be subpar. For whatever reason.

“Could you model it with my hands, please? I think I’m getting some of the strokes wrong.”

Yes, he was, but not because he didn’t know how to do the landing. Not because he didn’t know what a rising hook was. You heaved a sigh as quietly as you could manage, and got behind him, placing your hand on his right one to draw the character with laid-back movements. His distinct sweet fragrance started filling your lungs again, and you knew for a fact that it happened every time his pulse accelerated.

“This feels like making love to you on paper, beautiful.”

You were pretty familiar with that extremely sensual aura by now, but what you saw on the night of Chris’ birthday was engraved behind your eyelids like a venomous nightmare you just couldn’t forget. And he would still have the audacity to carry on with the smooth talking?

Despicable.

When in fact, you had absolutely no right to be this furious. He was a human being before he was a prince, meaning he was free to do whatever he goddamn pleased with whoever he wanted. He didn’t owe you anything. It wasn’t like you could ever be something more than a—

“Er erhm. We’re here for your studies, your grace.” 

“I know,” Hyunjin turned to his right to face you, “and there are many things I would like to study with you, princess.”

“Please stop using incorrect addresses and follow my lead,” you squeezed his hand in a manner far from affectionate and quickened the strokes of your brush. 

It turned out that The Zen Room was nothing but a complete hoax since all you were able to feel was five kinds of discomfort. For whatever reason.

“I would like to see this character perfectly copied the next time I see you. We’re done for today.”

“Wait, are you—?”

“We are done, your grace,” you emphasized and got up to leave before he could do or say anything else to coax you into staying. Because deep down inside you feared that you would.

For whatever reason.

You had started spending more of your time with Hyunjin now. To his credit, he at least dialed down the intensity of whatever ulterior motives he had and was only talking to you through barely defendable innuendos. How the brush strokes reminded him of a soft touch. How the ink was as dark as a moonless night. Twice a week. While practicing the correct order of strokes. From top to bottom. Left to right. Horizontal then vertical. You didn’t talk about anything else. You didn’t converse. It was mostly silent in The Zen Room, but in your experience, it was always the quiet ones.

Always the quiet ones that fucked shit up.

The day Hyunjin finished the sixth character on his canvas was the day he found himself at your door again. He didn’t know what else to do to deal with your absence anymore. He told you he had no self-control himself, yet he was still willing to try for your sake. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been since he touched you, but it felt like forever ago. It didn’t matter a single bit; it could have been since yesterday for all he cared—nothing could justify how much he was about to crush his walls into a pile of debris.

He had to have you. Again. As many times as he could. He knocked on your door without having an exact script in his mind for the first time.

“What are you doing here?” you answered the door while tying your robe.

“Came to practice calligraphy.”

“That’s a daytime activity, your grace.”

“You’re hurting my feelings,” Hyunjin tsked with a pout, “Didn’t I forbid you from calling me that, beautiful?”

“You can cry about it in your diary then.”

Malice. He didn’t understand why exactly you were filled with it, but he could feel the burn of the poison splattered from your words on his skin.

Something had shifted within you.

“May I please invite you to my room? I would very much like to show you something.”

This again. Why the overpolite royal booty call antics? He could have straight up asked you ‘Hey, you down to fuck?’ and it would have still had the same impact on you. Sheer irritation.

Interestingly enough, a couple of weeks ago it wouldn’t.

“Show it here.”

“I can’t carry it around. Please.”

Not the begging kind. The polite order kind. With that ‘Kindly know your place’ undertone that you would never be able to prove, but it was just there. You let out an exasperated sigh and followed after him. What was it going to be this time? A spreader bar? A suspension rig? A goddamn coffin?

But when you walked into Hyunjin’s room, you saw a monochrome painting depicting a warrior princess holding a katana instead. Fully grayscale, texture reminiscent of the ink you had been grinding. Her face was hardly visible and only her bare back from the waist up was showing. Delicately violent. There was a tattoo on her spine consisting of the exact same characters he had been practicing with you.

Mind over matter.

Fuck your entire life if you gave him the satisfaction by noticeably swooning all over this.

“Cool painting,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “Anything else?”

What did you mean by not melting in front of this grand gesture? What else did he need to do so that you would get the message? Wasn’t that why you didn’t spend the night with his br–?

Hyunjin lost all reasoning, not that he had much, to begin with.

“Please be with me tonight, princess,” he came closer to you with quiet steps, “Let me hold you in my arms again.”

“Hyunjin, don’t–”

“Please,” he started begging with his eyes as well as his words while sneakily wrapping one hand around your waist, “Please. I can’t stand being without you anymore.”

You almost got lost in the feeling when he started kissing your neck. It was incredibly hard to do, but you managed to pump the brakes before losing control of the steering wheel for good, and took a step back. Even if you hadn’t officially confirmed it, you had an idea that Hyunjin would have a problem with rejection of any kind.

And he wasn’t able to properly veil it anymore.

“Why are you running away from me?!”

You were still somewhat keeping your cool, but the ugly shades of spite started to swim to the surface of your skin at full force.

“The answer to that question resides with your kittens, your fucking grace.”

How little Hyunjin’s eyes widened was not visible to the naked eye. You had to be specifically looking for that flinch to recognize it. Yet when you had pure acrimony vision, having realized you were getting sick and tired of how entitled someone could be with complete disregard to everything ever, that was all you could see. Hyunjin started spilling his guts either because you poked somewhere you shouldn’t have, or because that was legitimately his last resort.

“Do you have any idea what you put me through that night?!” he spat while breathing heavily, “I know you were with my brother. The idea of you with him… With anyone… I was this close to doing something stupid!”

“So you opted for doing something extremely stupid instead.”

Your voice wasn’t even as loud as Hyunjin’s passionate declaration, but it seemed to have a calming effect on him. His breathing instantly turned to normal, and you could see hints of a smile appearing on his lips.

“You’re mad,” he started walking towards you again, “It upset you that I touched someone else.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I know jealousy when I see it, princess. I invented it.”

He was believing it. Hyunjin believed it was the sheer act of him gratifying himself with another person, or worse with other people that made you feel this agitated. How hard was it to be able to read the room? How hard was it to abide by a handful of unspoken rules? How fucking hard was it to restrain yourself from slashing someone’s pride, especially if that someone was a person you claimed to care about in whatever capacity?

How goddamn hard?

“You want me,” Hyunjin stepped closer with squinted eyes as if he cracked a code while you stood still in your place silently, the clench on your jaw somewhat noticeable by then, “You want me to only touch you, don’t you?”

You could feel the venom of malevolence rising from your stomach up to your throat, getting dangerously hard to control by the second.

“You want me to make you feel good,” he got even closer and crossed the invisible line you drew between you two, “And only you.”

“It’s like you’re asking to get your life smacked out of you,” you hissed between your teeth and turned around to control the urge to do just that. Hyunjin grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards himself, his body flush against yours.

“Hurt me.”

He blurted it out so casually like a greeting, and it was so out of the blue that it completely caught you off guard.

“Exc– What?”

“Punish me for what I’ve done. I deserve it. Hurt me.”

You couldn’t possibly be hearing this right. Even by his standards, this ‘request’ sounded absolutely…

Maniacal.

“Take your anger out on me. You have my full consent.”

“For what?!”

The beautiful creature standing in front of you spoke with a voice dripping with determination.

“To take me against my will.”

Hyunjin could see the colors in your eyes change. This had nothing to do with simple lust anymore. You were on the brink of seeing cinnabar red, but he was still pushing it, fully aware he was going to inhale mouthfuls of mercury vapor if he kept raising the temperature.

“Don’t you just wanna make me repent? Don’t you wanna show me my place?”

“Stop it.”

“Don’t you wanna make me regret what I did, princess?”

“Hyunjin, stop it.”

He brought his moist lips right against your earlobe and whispered before placing a small kiss on it.

“I know you do. Hurt me.”

You heard a faint ringing in your ears before the disturbing silence that lasted maybe for a nanosecond, and literally felt the snapping caused by your soul leaving your body.

You slammed Hyunjin against the wall and attacked his lips, kissing him like you absolutely despised him. Teeth sinking into skin, dragging the sensitive flesh to hear him moan, scratches on his bare chest. The more you were trying to inflict pain, the more he seemed to get aroused out of his mind.

“Was it good? Did you like fucking her hard?!!”

“I thought of you the entire time.”

“Don’t… fucking… lie to me, pretty face,” you harshly grabbed his chin to squeeze it and threw him on his bed, “You’re incapable of controlling yourself, aren’t you?”

“Do you wanna know how many times I touched myself to the thought of you?” Hyunjin attempted to sit up just to get pushed back down, “Do you wanna know how much I fucking crave you? You’ve ruined me!”

“I don’t care. Looks like I didn’t do good enough of a job,” you straddled him and sneakily entangled your fingers in his silk hair, “Nobody can leave you unattended for one second. Then you immediately revert back to the pretty slut you are.”

When you pulled on it hard, Hyunjin arched his back and let out a loud moan, left of the center on the spectrum of pleasure and pain. You were feeling like a completely different person possessed by whatever diabolical urges he injected in you with his mere words.

“You love hearing how pretty you are, aren’t you, your grace?”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re the prettiest,” you spoke with a borderline soothing voice and brought your face millimeters away from his, “But you’re such a fucking whore.”

It didn’t even feel like a kiss anymore. It was you emitting intense mercury vapor, cursing mouthfuls at him with your lips on his. Although he was the one that wanted to initiate a scene, Hyunjin was having a very hard time sticking to it with how hungrily he was devouring you already. It started to irritate you more when you noticed how much he was enjoying the graze on the sensitive skin on his neck, just hissing and groaning at the sensation.

“Let me taste you again.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s all I can think about,” he kept panting while cupping your face, “I keep daydreaming about your taste. I even see your scent in my dreams. Please, beautiful.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“Please,” his whimper came out way too loud, “I’ll do anything for you, I swear. Just choke me between your legs, I’m fucking begging you.”

The innocence you were feigning was massively overshadowed by the devilish smile on your face.

“But I wanna make you cry.”

“Then fuck me, princess.”

“How is that making you cry?” you raised your brows and spoke in an utterly derisive tone, “I don’t feel like rewarding you for what you’ve done.”

“You do wanna see me fall from grace for you, don’t you?”

The insinuation was there. It somehow registered in whatever was left of your sanity, but was he actually offering you this? Were you maybe witnessing the edges of what desire was capable of making him do?

“Do you– Do you want me to peg you?”

“Yes.”

Zero hesitation. Casually. Like he just asked you to touch him. To kiss him. To stroke his hair. Or whatever the fuck he associated affection with.

“Why are you– Why are you this– Fuck!”

Hyunjin harshly pulled you towards him for a kiss again. Everything was so intense that you were both out of breath in the middle of it.

“You do want to make me shut up for good, don’t you?” he spoke against your lips.

“Yes, I do. I fucking do!”

He reached out to his drawer and brought out what looked like a double-edged dildo, just to hand you the toy with no room for second thoughts.

“Go crazy on me, beautiful.”

It felt like time stood still. Why was he willing to go this far like a trust fall, not giving a shit about what you were actually capable of doing? What if you were about to do something crazy? Something way darker than the cinnabar red. Was he gonna be simply okay with it?

Was he aware of the things he was in the middle of trading?

"Do you trust me, pretty face?"

“I do.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you deliriously smiled at him, “Maybe it’s the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”

You were looking for the slightest hint of fear in his criminally ethereal face, but Hyunjin couldn’t have looked more composed. Almost tranquil. You were overcome by the idea of punishing him, but you still couldn’t find it in you to go that insane. You drowned the dildo in lube, and when he felt the cold sensation against his entrance, Hyunjin shuddered, expectancy visibly peaked.

“Fuck me like I fuck you, princess. Hard and good.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, pretty face. Sit there and take it.”

You could feel his thighs getting tense around you when you started slowly pushing in. It took a while for him to get used to the feeling, but quite honestly, not as long as you would think.

Like he had done this before.

“Please. Harder.”

“So you like getting fucked, huh?” you kept pumping the toy into him with obscenely wet sounds accompanying his moans, “You like feeling full. You fucking love it, don’t you?”

“No, it’s– it’s you,” Hyunjin panted with his eyes closed, “I've never let anyone else do this to me before.”

You almost felt a part of you getting soft, but unfortunately for him, the demon on your shoulder had the mic.

It’s a lie. Don’t fall for it. How else is he gonna take it that well?

“Are you lying to me by any chance, your grace?”

“NO! No, I’m not, I swear. You’re the only one that gets to do this besides me,” he offered a panicked explanation in the middle of perishing under you, “Harder. I can take it.”

“So, you don’t want me to fuck you, do you?” you sneered, “You just wanna fuck yourself through a proxy.”

When Hyunjin’s cock laying on his crotch visibly twitched, you let out a small chuckle, and if gestures had subtitles, yours would read ‘Don’t be so fucking obvious’.

“Then beg for it, prince.”

“God, please,” Hyunjin loudly whined, “Fuck us both with it. I wanna watch you cum to fucking me.”

“I told you not to tell me what to do, didn’t I? Don’t you dare touch yourself.”

You started fucking him harder, only meeting him halfway with his demands. Hyunjin’s chest started heaving in even more frequent intervals, a clear sign that he was about to let go.

“Good god, it feels so fucking good when you rail me flat like that! FUCK!!!”

I do. I really fucking love you. Oh, god!

As Hyunjin unloaded all over his stomach, you closed your eyes and saw Chris behind your eyelids. While he was coming down, you laid on Hyunjin’s bed to collect yourself, your robe still on you but feeling somewhat dirty like you ran through a field of mud.

“What would you call this thing between us, beautiful?” Hyunjin spoke from your right, caressing your torso with a hint of anticipation in his voice. You didn’t look at him. You examined the nonexistent details of the ceiling corners instead.

“I don’t know. Fuckbuddies at best.”

“If we’re fucking, are we just friends?”

“Didn’t know you were this emotionally attached to your kittens,” you retorted with as much animosity as you could inject in your tone, “I don’t think we could ever be anything more than that.”

“Why? What’s so wrong about us?”

“For one thing, you shouldn’t even be doing this. Didn’t you say you were supposed to abstain?”

“I don’t care.”

What was this conversation about anyway? You would break into a hysterical fit of laughter if Hyunjin legitimately offered you the position of his lead entertainer or something. When you got up from the bed, however, he immediately descended into a state of worry.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

“But why?!”

“For one thing I’m not one of your entertainers, and I don’t intend to be,” you looked right into Hyunjin’s eyes to get your message across, “If you’re not willing to find yourself some other room on these grounds, I’ll ask for another location for myself. I’m not going to out you, don’t worry.”

Your confident steps towards the door mutated Hyunjin’s worry into sheer panic and he grabbed you by your wrist like a Hail Mary pass. The literal latest resort.

“Don’t go. Sleep in my arms again.”

“Why?”

“Because…!”

The struggle. The fishing for words that he never once used. The desperation of it all.

Too bad you couldn’t feel sorry about any of it anymore.

“You make me feel things, beautiful. Things I shouldn’t feel.”

Hyunjin did make you feel things, too. Intense things, but you didn’t possess the correct vocabulary to register what they exactly were.

Desired. Sexy. Aroused. Confident even. They all came close.

“Maybe you should reconsider all that, your grace,” you tied your somehow loosened belt tight and slid the door open to leave his room for the last time, “I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”

But one thing you knew for sure was that this wasn't what love felt like to you.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Hope you properly heeded the warnings for this one. If you're feeling disturbed, that's supposed to happen, by the way.

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

📢Regarding tagging: Just a reminder that I do not tag ageless and/or blank blogs, nor can I tag you if your blog is listed as "invisible" / if you've changed your URL and didn't let me know. Thank you for your cooperation in advance!

🔖Story taglist: @mal-lunar-28

📌Permanent taglist: @sai-kida134 ; @ughbehavior ; @bearseungmin ; @skywarriorkirby ; @sunnyville36 ; @hwan-g ; @svintsandghosts ; @skz317cb97 ; @abiaswreck ; @skyminniesworld ; @clearlyissleeping ; @changbinluvr ; @lotus-dly ; @gibbysupremeacyisreal ; @lomllino ; @imsuchasimp00 ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @downforseochangbin ; @nabis-dreamscape-world ; @bangchanbabygirlx ; @yourgirljanvi ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @sunshinyminho ; @gold-dragon-slayer ; @oiphoebe ; @chansynie ; @skzho ; @streetlight-s : @venustired ; @lachinitaaaaa ; @yoongihan ; @hyunskizz ; @sikebishes ; @changbinheart ; @downbadreading

AH NO!!! Nesta!!! poor Cassian!!!

Living for the heartbreak you’re doling out this week.

Baby, Now We Got Bad Blood

A/N: So, we're told in ACOMAF and ACOWAR that mating instincts ride the males hard and that you should never come between a male and his mate, but one of my biggest gripes with ACOSF is that we never really see that from Cassian. Like come on, SJM! I want to see the Lord of Bloodshed go into Mate Mode(tm)! And so, I decided to write this. I recognize it may not be everyone's cup of tea, so remember that the back button is free, but for everyone else, enjoy! :)

Read on AO3

The tug between Cassian’s ribs is so sudden, so harsh, that he almost drops to his knees right then and there. That golden thread securely tucked there squeezes tight enough that it steals the breath straight from his lungs, twisting and writhing in his chest until he can do nothing except press a palm against his side in hopes of alleviating the pain, until he's sure that he must be bruised. He’s half aware of Devlon watching him curiously, of the other camp lords still sitting around the table, but all Cassian can focus on is the way his blood has run cold, on the ringing that’s taken up home in his ears all from that one tug.

Tentatively, he reaches for the golden thread within himself, sending his confusion and concern down the bond. He skates a finger along it, keeping his touch featherlight, before he plucks, a small, urging question. And then, with bated breath, he waits. Waits for the tug in response. Waits for the soothing feeling that’s not his own to rush through him and calm his worry.

But it never comes.

In fact, there’s almost nothing on the other end of the bond. Just silence. Just an empty, yawning void that has the hairs on the back of Cassian’s neck standing up, that has the pounding in his ears turning into a deafening roar. Genuine fear sparks through his veins, ice cold where it digs its claws into his mind and sends his heart stuttering. He reaches for that golden thread again, tugging more urgently this time, but still nothing.

Something’s wrong.

Cassian knows that Rhys had sent Nesta and Mor to the human lands on some sort of reconnaissance mission. Azriel’s network had gotten some concerning information through the vine, so the High Lord sent Nesta and Mor to blend in with the women of some village and see if they could get more details. It was supposed to be an easy in, easy out mission. He’d even arranged this war meeting in Illyria for when she was gone so he’d be back in time to welcome her home, even had tickets ready for them for the Velaris ballet.

But now, all he has is a silent bond, that single moment of fear twined in that hard tug that festers and burns with his own.

Without a backward glance, Cassian storms out of the room, ignoring Devlon calling after him. As soon as he steps outside into the biting snow of Illyria, Cassian unfurls his wings wide behind his back and takes to the skies. He keeps a hard and fast pace as he tears through the clouds, pushing himself and pushing himself and pushing himself. His back and wings ache with the exertion, but it’s nothing compared to the ache that throbs in his chest like an open wound. Nothing compared to the bloodied and bruised shreds of his heart at the thought of something happening to Nesta.

His mind keeps playing an endless loop of possibilities, each one worse than the last. He tries to imagine a scenario where it’s all a big misunderstanding, where he arrives back in Velaris and Nesta is there with that softness that takes over her stormy blue eyes when she sees him, with that sweet smile meant only for him, and they’ll laugh about this whole thing. But there’s no denying that niggling doubt, those whispers in the back of his mind. They fuel his fear, taunt him, and soon all Cassian can see each time he blinks is the sight of Nesta’s eyes open but unseeing, the color completely leached from her face, seared on the back of his eyelids.

It drives Cassian to push himself even harder, to fly even faster. Each beat of his wings, each thunderous hammer of his heart, it all pounds in time with that twisting thread between his ribs, in time with that call that blazes through his soul.

Nesta Nesta Nesta

He lands hard enough that his knees groan and ache, but he doesn’t care. He presses his hand against the wards, an incessant flash of red sparking in front of him, and steps inside the River House. Rhys steps into the view at the top of the stairs almost as soon as he’s through the front door, as though he was expecting him. The wariness pinching the corner of his brother’s eyes, the way his lips are pressed into a thin line, it confirms all of Cassian’s worst fears. Bile claws up the back of his throat, tangling with the lump already lodged firmly there.

“Where’s Nesta?” Cassian forces out.

“Cass…” Rhys starts slowly, holding his hands up placatingly. Cassian doesn’t miss the way his brother shifts his feet, resetting his stance like he’s expecting a fight.

Cassian is about to ask his question again when Madja comes bustling into the River House behind him, rushing up the stairs and past Rhys. The sight of the healer jolts Cassian into action, and he follows hot on her heels down the hall and into one of the bedrooms, but his steps stutter to a stop when he realizes it’s Mor sprawled across the blankets, holding her hand against a wound in her side.

Cassian whirls back around, ready to check every other bedroom until he finds his mate, but he comes face to face with Rhys again. His brother is still wearing that cautious expression, face still pinched and body still tense like Cassian is some sort of wounded animal he needs to treat with care.

“Where is Nesta?” Cassian demands again.

Rhys holds his ground and raises his chin, his eyes glancing over Cassian’s shoulder only briefly before landing back on Cassian’s face. “There was an ambush. I don’t know how the mortals knew we’d be there, knew who Mor and Nesta were, but there were two dozen of them… with ash arrows.”

“That didn’t answer my question. Where is she?”

“When I got there, Mor was already badly injured. She was going to bleed out if I didn’t get her out of there and to a healer.”

Cassian can feel his patience hanging on by a thread, stepping closer to Rhy and growling out, “where is my mate?”

Cassian feels the press of Rhys’s magic against him, the darkness that begins to creep and rumble from the corners of the room, as Cassian stares his brother down, but Rhys is unmoving, undeterred. He continues to meet Cassian’s blazing gaze, his face and voice an even calm that grates against the last shreds of Cassian’s nerve endings, the last of his sanity.

“I had to make a choice, and I made it.”

It takes a moment for the words to really sink in, to understand exactly what Rhys is telling him, and when it does, it’s a bucket of ice water over his head. He stumbles back a step in his shock. His stomach roils and drops all the way to his shoes, his blood crystalizing into ice, as he chokes out, “what?”

Rhys looks away then, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I used too much of my magic winnowing there already, and Nesta was too far away. I couldn’t get to her without risking Mor, without risking both of us, so I did what I had to do and winnowed us out of there.”

Cassian doesn’t think he’s breathing. He’s sure that his heart isn’t beating because it’s lost somewhere in the human lands, lost with Nesta. “You…” Cassian swallows hard, finding his voice again. “You left her there? In the middle of an ambush?”

“I’m sorry, Cass. I really am.”

“No, you’re not.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? Cassian has always known that Rhys isn’t exactly Nesta’s biggest fan. From the moment they met the sisters, from that first meeting at the manor in the mortal lands, Rhys has always held a certain animosity for the eldest Archeron. He’s always held onto that cool resentment on Feyre’s behalf for what happened when the sisters were young. And despite what happened with the human queens, despite what Nesta did during the War, despite what she did for Feyre and Nyx, that tension has never quite dissipated, that contempt is still there.

“If you were really sorry, why didn’t you go back for her?” Cassian continues, shaking his head in disbelief. “After you got Mor back to Velaris, why didn’t you go back?”

Rhys sighs as if this whole conversation is exhausting. “I just told you. My magic was depleted by winnowing that far, and they had ash arrows. I couldn’t risk it.”

“But you could risk Nesta, right?”

Cassian can feel his disbelief at this whole situation quickly morphing into anger. He can feel the heat of it just beneath his skin where it blazes through his veins. The beast deep within his soul thrashes against its restraints, hackles raised at the idea of any harm coming to Nesta. That rage burns and roars as it twists in dark, crackling tendrils in his chest. It urges him to fight, to raze the whole world to the ground until the debt is paid, until all of Prythian understands the mistake of risking the Lord of Bloodshed’s mate.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” Rhys continues, still using that too calm voice. “You know that. Nesta understood the mission, the importance.”

“Don’t you dare!” Cassian snaps, stepping forward again until he and Rhys are toe to toe, glowering down at him. “Don’t you dare speak of her when you left her to die.”

“Calm down,” Rhys speaks slowly, violet eyes flickering in warning.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What if it was Feyre? What if I left Feyre in the middle of an ambush surrounded by ash arrows? What if I left your mate for dead?”

“Don’t.”

The low tone of Rhys’s voice lets Cassian know he’s hit his mark. That magic and darkness presses a little bit harder, those violet eyes turning cold, clearly unimpressed with the underlying threat toward his mate. Cassian almost wants to laugh hysterically, seeing his own feelings mirrored back to him. It’s a sickening type of vindication.

“That’s the difference, isn’t it?” Cassian continues to drawl, not backing down, the red of his siphons flickering in time with Rhys’s own magic. “I would risk it for Feyre. I would go back for her because I know how much she means to you, but you don’t care. You’ve never forgiven Nesta, not really, and now, you finally got the chance to wash your hands clean of her.”

“Cassian—”

“Where?” Cassian interrupts, taking a step back finally and adjusting the straps of his leathers and preparing for a long flight. “Give me the coordinates. I’ll go get Nesta myself.”

Cassian side-steps around Rhys and heads for the stairs, but Rhys is hot on his heels. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you fly all the way to the mortal lands and potentially walk head first into an attack.”

“Try and stop me,” Cassian dares, whirling around with a snarl of warning. “Being mated and a father has made you soft, Rhysand. Do you really think you could take me?”

The temperature in the room starts to drop, Cassian’s siphons flaring brighter in response as magic scrapes along his spine. He’s been itching for a fight since the moment he stepped through the doors, instincts gnawing at his every nerve ending and riding him hard until his hands are clenching into fists, his fingers twitching with the urge to drive into Rhys’s face.

But he doesn’t have time for this.

Nesta is gods know where in the mortal lands, in the Mother knows what state, and he needs to get to her. He waited five hundred years for her. Five hundred years to hold her. Five hundred years to love her. And he’ll be damned if he loses her now. Damned if he fails her again. Damned if he doesn’t save her when he wasn’t there to protect her in the first place.

He turns back around and storms down the stairs, striding toward the door without looking back. His blood has already started to thunder again, that same beat of Nesta Nesta Nesta as he stretches his wings to warm them up.

“Cassian, stop,” Rhys calls after him, but Cassian merely rolls his eyes. “I am ordering you as your High Lord.”

Cassian can feel the magic of the order as it slinks across his skin, taste it on the back of his tongue, but he’s quick to shake it off with a scoff, yanking open the front door. “Fuck off.”

“You step out that door, you won’t be welcome back in this Court.”

Cassian turns over his shoulder, settling Rhys with a deathly cold look. “Good luck finding a new General then.”

Rhys looks genuinely taken aback by that, blinking a few times in surprise. “You’d really throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for? Everything you’ve ever wanted?”

“Nesta is everything I’ve ever wanted. And you knew that. And you still—” Cassian can’t choke the word out, can’t fathom a world where Nesta, his Nesta, his beautiful, smart, amazing mate is gone.

A world where Rhys killed her.

With one last shake of his head, Cassian steps out of the River House and onto the streets of Velaris, the door slamming behind him. It feels strange and wrong to step onto these streets knowing Nesta isn’t here. Knowing that her quiet steps won’t fill the bookshop in the Rainbow. Knowing that her soft laughter won’t fill her favorite bakery by the river. That fear from before grips Cassian tight enough that his steps almost stumble, but he stretches his wings out wide behind him nonetheless, siphons flaring in anticipation.

He’s going to get her back. Even if it’s the last thing he does.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @girl-of-many-floods @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head

im out here still mourning and sobbing my pathetic ass off

Shoebox of Photographs

So… this is my coping fic for Endgame!! There will be massive spoilers for the film in this imagine so… you have been warned!!!! PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU HAVE YET TO SEE ENDGAME - I HAVE USED THE TAGS AND WILL CUT IT BELOW THIS BUT PLEASE DON’T CLICK READ MORE UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN ENDGAME!!!!!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers Daughter!Reader 

Keep reading