#[ sir velvet ] » ‘a stitch in time...’

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

hello!! i'm on time once more <3 thank you to the amazing @skyrim-forever @umbracirrus and @thequeenofthewinter for tagging me this week!!

tagging the great @dirty-bosmer @changelingsandothernonsense @your-talos-is-problematic @orfeoarte @saltymaplesyrup

@wispstalk @gilgamish @archangelsunited @kookaburra1701 , and YOU reading this!! no pressure as always, i'm excited to see what everyone's been working on!

this is a tiny snippet from my rough draft of chapter 33 of Cycle of the Serpent! Viarmo has summoned the trio up to his office a few days before classes begin at the bard's college.

Even though he outwardly dismissed all worry about Viarmo's summons, Emeros couldn't help the gnarling bramble of nerves turning over in his abdomen. Sharp and poisonous, he had to wonder just what the headmaster could want with three of the new students. He didn't see anyone else with the letters, but perhaps this was something he did here and there to check on new people. For all he knew, the headmaster could have summoned Jorn the same way on his first day at the College. What did it matter, anyhow? If the trio were in deeper troubles, then it would be more than a polite letter under the door, certainly. The idea pecked at Emeros' mind, even as he made attempts to lift the spirits of his companions with discussion of the town itself. Solitude was a gorgeous city, and it wasn't hard to pick out details to bring up, from the stone walkways carefully laid to the buildings constructed of sturdy stone and surrounded by blooms of various flowers, but still, the cormorant bird of warning called in his mind, that this city was more than its opulence, and more than its histories. It was alive in a way that unsettled him. The march up to Viarmo's office lead them through the ground floor of the Bard's College asking for directions from Giraud, who pointed them the way. Then, several flights of stairs and a cramped tower's well, then a knock on a grand door. A call by a gravel-voiced man lead to Emeros pushing open the door, his friends behind him. "Ah, there's our newest students," came the voice, summoned from the throat of a sharp-faced Altmer, whose beard jutted out from his chin into a point. His blond hair was tucked underneath a grandly feathered cap, and every stretch of material on him bore shades of gold and teal. Expensive materials, and well kept, too, there was not an out of place stitch or mended tear on them as far as the Bosmer could see. He looked to Athenath, who fiddled with their hands, then to Wyndrelis, who shuffled his feet. "I take it you got my letter, then? Good, Arteus is a great messenger, but he tends to be a bit absent-minded at times."

"Forgive my forwardness-" Emeros began, cut off by Athenath stepping forward and starting their own sentence. "Can we ask what this is about? I didn't see anyone else with letters." They kept their eyes focused on Viarmo, but something tense caught in their voice, Emeros' gaze snagged on the edge of their shoulder. Viarmo leaned back in his chair, his barrel-figure elaborately dressed, complete with his darker teal, velvet cloak covering his shoulders, slits in its side making holes for his arms to move through. The headmaster didn't speak for a while, merely touched the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek, and Emeros' mind flooded with the worry that his friend had just made a grave mistake. He didn't voice this concern, however, as before he could put word to it, Viarmo laced his fingers together over his middle and smiled. In a low voice, as though sharing a secret with the trio, he said, "I hear you three were at Helgen. What's more, Phoebe tells me that you played a crucial role in the taking down of that dragon in Whiterun. Is this true?" The trio looked between one another, sharing glances understood in the tiniest shreds of expression. Athenath answered, "yes, sir. We, uh, didn't expect to… Encounter dragons, but we did." Viarmo leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on his well-polished, mahogany desk. It was definitely imported from Alinor, Emeros thought as he took in the details, drinking of the carved, frond-like shapes in the legs of the desk, along with its multiple drawers, its mother-of-pearl adornments, its strong stature. Each carving was the pinnacle of Aldmeri wealth, and he almost deigned to think of what it cost before dragging himself from such speculation. Whatever it amounted to was enough to dizzy him. Either Viarmo was a very celebrated bard in both the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion, or he had friends in high places, and he didn't find himself in the mood to question which one it was. "You do realize what this means, don't you?" Viarmo pressed after a long moment, as though giving the question much thought, himself. "The return of the dragons, that is." "We figure it's probably something very important to history, that's for sure," Athenath replied quickly, managing to bubble out a small, uncomfortable laugh. "Sir, may I ask what all of this is about? I know we didn't audition, but-" "Oh, nevermind that," Viarmo sat upright and waved the thought with a heavy hand away, "we've barely got enough students to justify a building right now. Yes, normally, we'd have you three audition and then carry out tasks for the College, but right now, well, it's a complex situation, you see. And what's more, with the war going on… I'm not surprised more bards are choosing to stay in their home cities or just flat out go to other provinces that aren't Skyrim." Athenath's shoulders relaxed as the headmaster spoke. The blond Altmer shifted his posture, rummaging around for extra paper and a quill, drenching the end in thick, good-quality ink. "Now, tell me about the dragons. What were they like?"

It wasn't hard to sum up the dragons themselves: large, threatening, big teeth, and they shouted men to pieces. They set fire with a word in a language none of them knew, and they swept across the land like a great shadow, death in its wake. Viarmo furiously wrote down every detail, asking a question here or there, and when the trio finished giving their account, he looked up with a clever grin. "You know, as Giraud would tell you, history is nine parts truth, and one part fiction. Your factual accounts of the dragons are invaluable to future generations of bards who may never get to see the beasts themselves, and the College thanks you for it." As he set the paper aside to dry, he flattened a palm in the direction of the door. "If you don't have any questions for me, then you're more than free to go. Classes begin on the sixth of Heartfire, so do be sure you have all your books and supplies. Your instructors will tell you what you need." Athenath gave a small nod, turning to the door, Emeros and Wyndrelis following close behind the younger Altmer. Dismissed, the trio made their way back down the squared, winding stairwell, and back to the ground floor. Several students were making their way around the main area, up and down the stairs to the dorms and kitchens, the large, museum-like room housing the instruments filled with more presences than the previous day. This would become routine, it seemed, for the next few days.

[flamingconfections]

A letter was given to King Cobra, with the familiar signature of a red thread. The letter read as follows: "My beloved King Cobra, I am so very sorry to have not been around or given you a word of my whereabouts these past few weeks. I hope that you and our children are doing well and happy; as for myself, I would rather tell you once I reach the kingdom, which should be in just a few hours once you get this letter. All my love, Sir Velvet."

« @sirvelvetcookie »

[ A few hours. Only a few hours until he could see Velvet again. It had been a long time, and the king was beginning to worry that something serious had happened. ]

[ Cobra read through the letter a couple of times before folding it up into neat thirds, entrusting it to the nearest servant to store it away in the study. He stood up from the chair he was sitting in in the bedroom, throwing the curtains open so he could keep an eye on the one main road that passed through his kingdom. ]

“ You there. ”

[ At the call, a different servant turned to the king, patiently awaiting whatever Cobra was going to say. ]

“ Please make sure Coral and Blue Coral are aware of Velvet’s return. After that, make sure everyone else is prepared for the arrival...You know how it goes. ”

[ The servant wordlessly bowed before leaving the room with a silent flourish. Cobra kept his gaze outside, both anxious and relieved that Velvet would be back. ]

[authorraccoon]

Vampire!Mihawk X Fem!Reader

I wrote this fanfic for a friend of mine, they requested it and they got to read it about a week before I'm posting it now.

There is smut, if you don't wanna read it you can just read the beginning and the bonus.

Bonus includes Mihawk and Y/n having a daughter, Mihawk is a little ooc but it's so he's more like a father.

It was a silent evening, in the kingdom. You had a long day working at the shop stitching up dresses and pants. You were so tired you decided to drown out the stressful day with some drinks at the pub. Of course it was odd to see a woman at the pub drinking, but after asking for some red wine it seemed normal. There were men clashing their cups together in cheers and some other woman with a glass of wine sitting by them.

You liked being alone most of the time, but recently it has been getting boring. You listened to the women at the table next to you gossip about the latest town news, this time being about a slightly different house. to you it sounded normal but the women made it sound as if a wolverine was in there. You rolled your eyes and took another sip of wine, looking at the door when a new person came in. Most women went silent, focused on the sight of the newcomer. He was tall, slender yet not skinny, slightly pale, and handsome. He wore a long black and red velvet coat with a fancy dress shirt underneath, topped off with a beautiful hat that had a long fluff going off the side.

His eyes were shaded by the long brim of the hat, making his face hard to see. The man went to the bar to order a drink, and I was surprised to see a glass of red wine instead of a mug of beer. He definitely wasn't like the drunkie Shanks who hung out in the corner with women surrounding him. The mystery of a man looked in your direction, making you avert your eyes quickly because of your staring. He didn't leave you alone though, he walked over and sat across from you in the booth. Now that he was closer the shade over his eyes has lifted and you could see his gorgeous yellow eyes.

"Good evening." you spoke quietly, but he didn't say much at first. You'd look down at your lap from the awkwardness, but that didn't stop the man from staring. "So you'll stare me down but as soon as I do you look away?" his bluntless caught you off guard. "Well- I didn't mean to, I was just looking, you know.." you tried to cover yourself up. He hummed and took a sip of his wine, crossing his legs from under the table, which bumped into your own foot.

Then once his leg was resting over the other, you felt his boot bump your own again. 'Was this man really trying to play footsie with you?' you asked yourself. You couldn't help but smile a bit at the idea, and decided to play along. I tapped his foot back and glanced up to see a smirk play on his face. "So, what's your name miss?" He broke the silence. You looked at him again, "it's Y/n, you sir?" "Mihawk, Dracule Mihawk." he answered.

"I like it, it sounds like a special name." you commented, to which he smiled. "Maybe I can be special."

you raised a brow, about to ask what he meant but he beat you to it. Mihawk brought his hand to lay over your own on the table. "Would you like to go out with me?" You were flabbergasted, the surprise nearly took the air out of your lungs. "With me? Mihawk we just met, not to say you aren't charming and very attractive but I'm not sure." you said with concern. His cold hand moved closer, now caressing your elbow. "I'll make it worth it, and I'll treat you right, would you treat me to a night of happiness with you?"

The way he asked was so formal, you couldn't refuse. "Fine, sure, where would you like to go?"

"tomorrow evening, around this time, at the park, we can go for a walk and then have dinner. sounds good?" You thought for a second before nodding in agreement. "Sounds lovely." He smiled and sat back, taking the final sip of his wine. "See you then, Miss Y/n." Then he left.

That night as you laid in bed, a dress for tomorrow picked out, you couldn't calm the nerves and excitement. His words, his bright eyes, his cold hands, they never left you alone during the night. All you could do was fantasize of the date the next day, would he hold your hand? Would he kiss you? Would he invite you over? A chill ran down your back as your mind lingered far beyond the thought of going to his home.

The next day you went to the park, sitting on a bench by the pond to watch the ducks while you wait. You didn't have to wait long when Mihawk joined you with a cold hand joining your own. He lifted your hand up with his own to his face, placing a gentle kiss on the back. "It's good to see you came." he stroked your hand with his thumb, "Shall we go?"

"We shall, do you have dinner planned?" you both started to walk, pinkies interlocked. "Yes, the best restaurant near the castle." He smiled. "Oh Mihawk you don't need to spoil me." You frowned. "Y/n don't worry, a date is for spoiling."

The walk went on for another hour, just talking about each other's jobs, lives, and interests. Apparently he used to work as a swordsmith and swordsman, still training swordfighting whenever it's needed. He's just a few years older than you. And he likes reading silently in his home library. When walking to the restaurant he pointed out his house to you, it had a gorgeous exterior design. It seemed dark yet comfortable, you couldn't help but wonder how beautiful it was on the inside.

At dinner you were seated at a round table with a sheen white cloth over it, in the center a rose and candle. The room was large and a brightly lit chandelier hung above. "Mihawk, this place is incredible, Thank you so much." You smiled, taking his hand from across the table. He seemed happy with your thoughts and tapped your foot with his own, a reminder of the other night. "I'm glad you think so, I wouldn't mind taking you out again next week." he opened the menu carefully, looking at the drinks they offered. "I'd love to." You replied before doing the same, knowing you'd ask for red wine, same as him.

The dinner went just as well as the walk, you both talked casually with each other, as if you were dating for years. the comfort you felt around him never left, even after you went through months of dating. Months which turned into a year.

You and Mihawk have been dating for a year, and just recently you have finished moving in with him. You shared a bed but kept a comfortable distance, and haven't yet took things to a sexual level. Tonight you finally thought about taking it up, but you were unsure how to do it.

Tonight you planned dinner at home, cooking chicken and pasta. You had set up the table, a candle and rose set in the middle, plates of food on each end. You dressed in a casual yet nice dress, not wanting to come off too strong to him. When he walked through the doorway he seemed surprised by the dim lights, but calmed when he saw your presence. "Hey sweetheart, what's all this for?" he asked, walking over and placing a kiss to your forehead. "Nothing much, just wanted to cook dinner for us tonight."

He smiled and sat down at his usual seat, you joining him. He complimented your cooking, and held your hand over the table while you both ate. He was always close and sweet, even if he was mostly quiet. When you finished Mihawk pulled you out of your seat and upstairs, you were going to ask what he was doing but decided to just follow his footsteps. He pulled you close once at the bedroom, placing soft kisses from your jaw to neck. going over the the lovebites he left last time he kissed you there, he always nipped your neck during a sentimental moment.

"Thank you for dinner." he mumbled over your skin. "Don't worry about it-" "I want to thank you more." his voice deepened. Your face reddened quickly, you couldn't hide the fact his words made you feel such a way. "Mihawk are you suggesting that we-?" you couldn't finish your sentence, unable to mutter the right words. "Yes, Y/n, we've been together so long. Do you think you're ready?"

"I was planning to ask you the same question today." you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I guess we're soulmates then." he whispered in your ear before nipping it. He slid his coat off, his hands going under your dress and slipping it over your head with ease. The soft fabric of your bra and panties caressed your skin, almost being too beautiful to remove. Almost.

Mihawk ripped through the fabric, tossing them aside with his coat. next your bra, then his own white shirt and black pants. He wrapped one arm around your lower back, his cold skin pressing against your chest making you shiver. With his other hand he traced soft circles into the skin of your hip. "May I?" he asked, his voice echoing in the quiet of the room. "Yes." you breathed out, back immediately arching after the word left your mouth.

Two fingers entered you, you felt a slight burn from the stretch. He went slow and soft, pushing and pulling out at a steady and calm pace. He curled them up in you every two times, causing you to grip his back from the pleasure. Mihawk leaned in and kissed you to calm the tears threatening to break through. "Relax sweetheart, I won't hurt you." You nodded, using your free hand to wipe away the tears.

Once the pain fully subsided you asked him to go faster, grinding down to meet with his hand each time. The more it went on the more you felt a tightness in your stomach. Your walls clenched down around Mihawk's fingers, signaling him you were close. "Go on," he leaned in closer, chests impossibly close and pressed together. "you can cum."

You released as if his words could make you do anything. Your chest heaved and even with Mihawk's still cool body against you, you were sweating. "Are you ready?" he asked, riding out your orgasm to calm you down. "Yes, I'm ready." you replied, forgetting the man still hasn't taken off his underwear. But once you did you had to turn your head so you wouldn't gawk at it. a red tint covering your face from the image of him entering you, or sucking him off.

"Let me know if it hurts." He kissed your cheek softly, his tip slowly slipping in and stretching you out. Your hand covered your mouth, looking down at him going in you. He smiled, taking your hand away from your mouth, interlocking your fingers together and holding them against the sheets of the bed. He pushed all the way in, the pain almost making you scream. He didn't move, waiting for your approval. His free hand massaging your waist, hoping to take away the pain.

"You can move." you said, after a few minutes of just catching your breath. He pulled out slowly, pushing back in at the same pace. Mihawk went just as easy as when he fingered you, and he held back any urge to speed up without consent. You had all the control in this situation. When you told him to pick it up, he did it, without any hesitation he did it just for you. He was so deep in you swore you could see a slight bulge stick out from your stomach, you brought your hand to it and pressed down. The pleasure from that squeeze of pressure made you both moan out. Once again he picked up speed to your command, you pushing against him to meet him at the connection.

"Do you trust me?" He looked you in the eyes, his gorgeous yellow eyes taking you into a whole new world. You zoned out gazing at him, until he asked again. "Y/n, do you trust me?" He seemed more serious this time. "Mihawk, of course I do, I could never not." you gave him a reassuring smile.

"Good."

his next move made you gasp out loud. Not only did he thrust deep into you and hold himself there, releasing inside you. But he bit into your neck, breaking the skin. You felt the feeling of your blood being sucked out, your eyes widened, legs and arms wrapping tightly around his body. He stopped, licking at the spot he left before pulling away. "Mihawk?" you called, timid from his action.

"Y/n, I haven't told you everything yet." He admitted. "I'm not really human, if you couldn't tell now." Your mouth hung open slightly, still shocked by what he did. "If you love me, will you live forever with me?" His arm reached out to the bedside table, grabbing something. Before you could look you felt cold metal slip around your finger.

"Mihawk-" your eyes welled up with tears and your face burned. He gave you an almost worried look, in his mind begging for you not to be scared of him.

"Yes. Yes of course Mihawk yes!" your tears poured down your face with happiness. You cupped your lover's face in your hands, bringing him down to you so you could cover his face with millions of kisses. his smushed together smile only made you happier. You would be able to live with him forever.

"Lord, I hope we get a baby from today." Mihawk raised a brow. "So soon?" "They could be the flower girl or boy." He chuckled, "We'll see, love."

He finally pulled out, leaving you and coming back with a cloth to clean you up. When he was done he wrapped his coat around you and put you under the covers, cuddling up next to you. "I can't wait for my future life with you."

bonus:

Since then it's been 10 years, 8 years ago was your wedding, and 6 years ago you had a child. A 6 year old little girl, named Perona. Mihawk named her, saying it was after a little girl he took care of in his first life.

"Mommyyy, Daddyyyy!" you heard stomping little feet come to your door, before it swung open. "I'm hungryyy." she whined, standing in your doorway wearing her pink pajamas and holding her teddy bear in her arms. You sat up and looked over your shoulder to your husband, you knew he was awake, but he pretended to sleep through her yelling. You smiled and got out of bed, going to your daughter and picking her up. "Well let's go make you some pancakes then sweetie."

Perona stuffed her face with syrup covered pancakes, while you brushed and put her hair into pigtails. You leaned down, taking Perona's fork about to eat a piece of her pancake. But the little girl took it back and gave you a big, sloppy, syrupy, kiss on the cheek. You looked at her and pouted, only for her to greet you back with her tongue sticking out. "How about you give daddy a kiss yeah? smear your face with as much syrup you want and spread it all over daddy." you giggled at the thought, Perona's eyes lighting up as well.

She stuck her hand into the plate of leftover syrup, wiping it all on her mouth. You laughed and picked her up, with a fast yet quiet pace you got to your bedroom with Mihawk. You snuck in, putting Perona down at his side of the bed. She leaned over and just like she did you, kissed his cheek. But it didn't stop there, she smeared the syrup that was dribbling down her chin onto his own. Mihawk sat up quickly, a disgusted look played on his face.

"You little trouble makers!" He snatched Perona, dragging her into the bed, waving you to come over. He pulled you into the bed as well and started to tickle Perona. Though he was usually calm and neutral outside, he always had a mighty personality with the family. Perona kicked and screamed, both you and your lover tickling her until she was out of breath and panting. her head lay on your chest when she finally calmed down, a smile on her face as she dozed off.

Mihawk scooched over closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and your daughter. He kissed her head and looked up at you, "I love you." he whispered. "I love you too."

[sukirichi]

personal disaster

Toji took the personal invitation to be your personal disaster.

REQUEST. toxic toji + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either

PAIRINGS. toxic toji x reader x mafia! leader noritoshi kamo (he’s just witnessing the fun, dw)

CONTENT/WARNINGS: rough sex, slight bloodplay, violence, toxic toji, toxic and abusive relationships, choking, begging kink (you’ll be surprised in what way), degradation, mass murder, mentions of blood, cuckolding, overstimulation, reader is kind of crazy, hate fucking, neck slicing, IT’S DARK okay? unedited too, sorry for typos and grammatical errors 

WC: 3.5k+

masterlist !

Your arm looped with your fiancé’s, his possessive arm wrapped around your waist. He glared at everyone who stared at you with a lust filled gaze, his cold eyes alone enough to send his people staring at the ground with a tug of their jackets to hide their erection. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they always saw how your pussy took Noritoshi’s cock so well, but that was it.

They could only see but never had a taste of the specimen you were because you were the mafia leader’s fiancé, soon to be the Queen of his empire while you sat pretty next to him, getting richer and richer with each passing second before you fulfilled your duty and birthed him an heir.

Noritoshi wasn’t in a rush, though. He was a man of sensual pleasure, wanting to take his time with you and getting to know you, and take his time he did.

There was not a day that he didn’t have you moaning under his silk sheets, wrists already chafed from the handcuffs he insisted on using you, simply because he was a man who liked to exert dominance and craved being in power. You never denied him – how could you when all you had to do was spread your legs and you got that coin?

You were beyond a slut for him, however, and this much was clear when Noritoshi announced that you were his and his only.

When even that didn’t deter the curious hands of his people from pumping their cocks at the thought of you, Noritoshi have had enough. He roughly slammed his lips to yours before he melted at the sweetness of your lips, soon turning gentle before he slipped a ring inside your finger to make it official.

Noritoshi, dramatic as ever, wanted everyone to know about this engagement as loudly as he could without opening his mouth.

Your fiancé had a flare for the theatrics, which was why he didn’t blink an eye as he got you an expensive designer dress, hand-stitched, and flaunting you around – flaunting his soon to be wife hanging off of his arm proudly.

He guided you into his limousine until you reached a night sky nightclub that was notorious for its luxury. Not even the richest people belonging in the top tier of society could afford a single ticket, much less a private room. Noritoshi made the right choice by walking with you down the hallways, the walls transitioning from a glossy black to a velvet tint, leading into one of the VIP rooms that was already surrounded by his guards.

The whole way there, Noritoshi didn’t loosen his grip on you, making sure his hand was cupping your ass to flash your ring and his.

Several envious gazes and curious ones later, followed by hushed whispers before the pair of you disappeared behind the double doors, Noritoshi loosened up in his seat, satisfied that he’d marked his territory successfully.

Noritoshi uncapped a bottle of fine whiskey served by a shivering waiter, while you sat next to him, legs crossed enough that the poor blushing waiter flushed at the sight of your bare cunt.

You checked your nails, smirking at the velvet black acrylics Noritoshi was generous enough to let you borrow his black card for. The dress you wore was infinitely superb too, the bust firm enough to push your breasts high enough that the outline of your cleavage was just a step away from exposing your nipples – a tease, as always – just as how Noritoshi wanted.

He was like that; always dangling the treasure right in front of people’s mouths as they salivated in hunger, then bringing it back to his grasp just before they took a bite.

How Noritoshi, you thought.

Out of nowhere, muffled gunshots could be heard from the outside, your eyes cat-like as they glared at the door, waiting for people to burst through. Not a second later, one of your guards rudely invited himself in, pushing the curtain that hid a secret exit as he started babbling nonsense about a madman or something.

“What’s wrong?” Noritoshi asked calmly over his glass, swirling the glass with a satisfying clink. “What’s all the commotion about?”

“Sir, you need to leave! There’s an assassin here and he’s easily taking our men down!”

“Assassin?” he scoffed with a pinch of his brow. “What do you mean assassin? This is a private nightclub – isn’t our security tough?”

“Yes, sir, but he’s easily overpowering us—”

“This assassin you speak of,” you stopped inspecting your nails, placing them over your knee instead. A smirk painted your bold red lips when the guard’s eyes trailed downwards to your shaven cunt, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight before he turned away, stiffening harder once he met Noritoshi’s glare. “Is he tall, dark, has a scar running down in his lip and has a crazy look in his eye?”

“Y-yes, that’s exactly him.”

“Do you know who he is, darling?”

You scrunched your noise, uncrossing your legs out of poor mercy to this man. He looked like he’d faint soon – seriously, didn’t Noritoshi have enough sluts for his men to fuck? “An old friend of mine, although I could hardly call him that when he took everything from me,” eyes darkening at the memory of him, you pushed yourself off the velvet cushions of the couch, swiping at the gun strapped to your thigh. “You should leave, Toshi. I’ll handle him.”

“You’ll handle him? It’s unsafe – we need to leave—”

Sigh, he always worried too much over you. It was so easy for him to forget you lived an equally dark life prior meeting him, so you pressed your lips against his, making sure to mark the edges red to remind him he had nothing to worry about. As always, it shut Noritoshi up, his hands coming up to caress at your ass.  

“He won’t hurt me,” you assured, palms laid flat on his chest. “Now go.”

Noritoshi wasn’t given a chance when you nodded at his guard, who got the message and dragged his boss away rather harshly behind the curtain. Smirking, you made your way outside, adrenaline rushing through your veins and heat seeping into your core. This night just got a lot more interesting.

Your fun was spoiled, however, when you were met with blood stained walls and limbs torn everywhere. A sneer made its way to your face, not because you were disgusted by the sight, but because he was still as boring and upfront as ever.

He never let you had your fun.

“Toji,” you greeted the tall man sitting on top of the pile of bodies, brows raised because it’s been a long time and he still hadn’t changed. He still wore the exact same fitted black shirt that looked like it would rip into pieces at each of his movements, which to your surprise, never did. “Still as messy as ever, huh?” you clicked your tongue, bunching your dress up with your fists as you stepped over the bodies, making sure not to slip from the sea of blood. “Jeez. You’re not even the least bit concerned about the cleaners.”

“Sweetheart,” he crooned, mirroring your smug expression as he jumped down his throne of corpses, roughly tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eye.

Even with high heels, Toji effortlessly towered over you, reminding you again and again of the strength difference. Though you held your ground pretty well, and he knew this too, otherwise he wouldn’t have struggled so much in his mercenary work the moment you came.

“It’s so nice to see you again – or is that what you wanted me to say?” Your lips stretched for a sinister laugh, Toji beating you to it when his strong hands came to wrap around your neck, slamming you on the wall hard enough he blurred in your vision for a moment. You kept chuckling through the lack of air, tongue darting out to lick the blood of his knuckles. Toji growled, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’ve done to me, bitch. You ruined my pretty face with those nails of yours.”

“Can’t blame a woman, Toji, you weren’t letting me cum.”

“To be fair, you were leaving me after you killed all my clients when I kindly asked you to keep your hands to yourself,” Toji sneered, head darting down to rip the diamond necklace Noritoshi got you onto the ground. You whined upon seeing the crystals scatter onto the floor, millions worth now dipped in blood. What a fucking shame. “But you’ve always been a naughty little minx, aren’t you? You just can’t keep your hands off of beautiful men.”

“Trust me, Toji, what’s inside their pockets are a lot prettier than faces,” you giggled as your hand came up to trace the scar on his lips, eyes narrowed into appreciative slits. “Nothing would ever be prettier than this.”

“Is it still a face you want to sit on?”

“Fuck, yes,” you admitted, pushing yourself off the wall to wrap your legs around him.

The momentum took Toji by surprise, forgetting that you were just as strong as him as he staggered two steps backwards. His grip tightened on your hip to steady you both, the sharp blade of his weapon poking against your thigh threateningly.

It didn’t bother you, and you only nuzzled your nose against his almost affectionately, staring him in the eyes as you mumbled, “I fucking missed you.”

“Then why did you leave?” he grunted while grinding you down on his cock, hissing for a split second when your killer heels dug into his lower back. He could feel blood leaking from how the shoe pierced him, but he made no move to push you away, enticing you to kiss the corners of his lips to worship his scar. He was so beautiful, sinfully gorgeous that you always lost your mind around him.

He was your end, your ruin, your destruction – and you left in a poor attempt to keep your heart safe.

“How long has it been since I had my hands on you, huh, pretty thing? Six months, maybe more? Time gets so blurry when I’m not buried in your tight cunt,” Toji buried his nose in the crook of your neck, using the blade of his sword to tear your dress open, leaving your lower half revealed to him.

“Oh, you asshole, that was expensive!”

“Don’t give a fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes, and of course he didn’t. Toji wasn’t any better than you; both your minds were always clouded and hazy with sex. “You smell different. Got another man?”

“Hmm, and he’s much better than you are,” Your words ticked Toji off, knowing full well he always hated it whenever you poked at his ego. Toji was a man of many things, and every time you implied that he wasn’t something, you could expect that he would fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to feel your legs for days. Now that was exactly what you wanted, so you kept going, your nails travelling under his shirt to leave more scratches at his already ruined back – all thanks to you. “He’s rich, classy, handsome, praises me instead of calls me a little slut—”

“Aren’t you?”

“I am,” you agreed shamelessly with a sultry laugh, looking back at him with a devious glint in your eye. “But I like being worshipped every now and then.”

“Haven’t I done that enough? You talk as if I never made you feel good.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing can still compare to your cock, Toji,” Your other hand shoved itself down his pants to feel him, soft pants leaving those pretty mouth of yours when felt his cock bare, the tip already wet with pre-cum.

Of fucking course Toji executed his missions on commando mode – he couldn’t be bothered to keep his fat cock imprisoned.

“But he’s richer. And he’s willing to marry me, breed me until I’m swollen with his children and pamper me afterwards. He’s willing to make me his.”

“You fucking slut,” Toji shoved his tongue inside your mouth, the moans spilling from your lips to his only encouraging him to align his huge length onto your already dripping cunt – always so wet and ready to be filled by him – before he slammed you all the way down. The sudden stretch had you biting on his tongue to muffle your moan, Toji’s hands bruising as he cupped your ass. Toji clenched his jaw upon feeling your walls embrace him warmly, his breaths ragged and faint.

It made your chest swell with pride at the thought that only you could make the infamous Fushiguro Toji this disarranged.

“What is it with you sticking to alpha males all the fucking time?”

“A princess wants her throne beside a handsome prince, Toji. Just because your family didn’t like you, doesn’t mean mine did too. I grew up being told fairy tales while you ran rampant in the streets,” you bit back, the sinister laugh painting the blood red walls dark because you knew Toji better than anyone, and one of the things that always set him off like a bomb was the mention of his abusive family.

You couldn’t wait to see how he would ruin you, and you moaned loudly when Toji grabbed your jaw until your cheeks were squished, the cold of his blade held against your throat sending a shiver down your spine.

“Are you the slightest bit aware of how much I want to kill you right now? Slice your lovely neck and fuck you while you suffocate in your own blood?” You gasped as you felt warm liquid slowly bleed out from the slightest cut, your blood sliding down your chest and under the leftover materials of your dress. Toji used his bare hands to rip the dress apart, your tits bouncing the moment they were freed from its confines.

The guttural groan that echoed from his throat was pure animalistic, similar to the carnal thrusts of his dick that pummelled into you. He pushed you flat on your back until your skin pricked with the shards of glass on the bar countertops, the pain only adding to your pleasure.

Toji kept you locked underneath his arm, his hands choking the air out of you while you clenched around him repeatedly, your walls sucking him in tight enough that Toji lost rhythm in his thrusts. “Only you would like that, Toji,” you choked out in a broken gasp, the man above you growling when you picked up a broken wine glass to push his hands off of you.

Blood coated both your bodies as Toji drove his dick deeper, hitting all the spots that only he could ever reach.

“I’m a man of rare taste.”

“So fucking rare,” you teased. Toji’s middle finger and thumb met once they wrapped around your neck, pulling you off the table to bounce you on his cock, using only his masculine virility and raw strength to fuck you good.

The sudden change of position had the tip of his cock pressing into your most sensitive spots, Toji’s angry grunts sinful yet so erotic as your bumpy walls kissed the veins of his cock.

Toji suddenly wrapped an arm under your breasts, flipping you over until you were met by the sight of Noritoshi standing still outside his VIP room, his gun aimed at the both of you. “Uh-uh – I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pretty boy,” he warned, his words taking a huge hit on Noritoshi when his arm wavered. “One cut is all I need and your lovely fiancé’s body would be swimming in her own blood. Now, you wouldn’t want to waste such a beauty, right?”

“Y/N!” he suddenly dropped his gun, hands raised in surrender beside his head. If Toji wasn’t driving his dick like a fucking animal, you would’ve broken Noritoshi’s nose, ashamed that he surrendered so easily. Noritoshi’s dark eyes turned to Toji’s, heat seeping off of him in waves. “I will never forgive you for what you’re doing!”

“Wasn’t asking for forgiveness, shorty,” Toji pressed, using two fingers to split your lips open, giving Noritoshi the show of his life as Toji’s fat cock stretched you open completely, your puffy lips wrapped around his swollen length.

You knew you looked so dirty right now, skin covered in blood, wearing nothing but your black heels that accentuated your legs while Toji split your body in half.

A strangled moan was pulled from you when Toji hitched one of your legs, his arm hooked behind your knee, completely exposing yourself to Noritoshi. Even though you couldn’t see yourself, the squelching of your pussy taking in Toji’s cream filled dick was so pornographic you couldn’t help the heightening of your arousal, breasts bouncing as Toji kept up his relentless pounding.

“Come on, sweetheart, let him see how much I’m stretching you out. Watch as she loses herself around my fact cock like the fucking whore she is,” Toji laughed, silencing your incoherent fucked out mumbled by shoving a thumb through your lips, smearing your lipstick to the side as if you weren’t a mess already.  “Oh, look at his face. You don’t mean to tell me he doesn’t know how filthy you are, huh, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Toji slapped your ass, your walls clenching around him on instinct. Noritoshi’s eyes widened when you only moaned in response, the blissful smile on his ace rendering him silent. “Not so threatening now, huh, Kamo?” Toji leered, snickering at the apparent tent growing in your fiance’s pants.

It was absolutely sickening that he got off at the sight of his pretty little fiancé be used by some other man, but Toji respected all kinks, even if he didn’t have much respect for Noritoshi to begin with.

“Come on, sweetheart. Scream for me. Say my fucking name like you always used to. Let’s show this pretty boy here how awful you are before he regrets being with you,” Toji snapped his hips harder into you, causing you to see stars that mixed with the sight of Noritoshi falling onto his knees, your name a plead for his lips.

Toji’s cock only twitched at the sight of seeing someone so helpless, to see the infamous powerful Kamo leader beg for Toji to save you and let you go.

He always knew he had a begging kink, but he didn’t think it would come in this form.

“T-Toshi—” you moaned out, eyes snapped shut. You couldn’t think anymore, the only sounds filling your ears were Noritoshi’s cries and Toji’s ragged pants in your ear, his hand pressing down on the apparent bulge of your lower stomach every time he bottomed out.

“I said, say my fucking name.”

“Toji, Toji, fuck!” you leaned backwards and placed your head on his shoulder while he grabbed your hair to kiss you, that familiar heat beginning to form in your core. Unable to help it, your moans fell left and right, loud enough that it drowned out Noritoshi’s pleads. Toji laughed at both of you – called you the dumbest lovers alive – so he kissed you, more tongue and teeth than lips, his thrusts sloppy and desperate. “Oh, oh fuck, yes, yes, right there, oh!”

“You can never fuck her like I do. You can never make her feel good like I do. See how she’s moaning so pretty for me? You can never have her.”

“You’re so fucking unfair,” you cried out, hands tugging at his hair. Toji never let up for even a moment as his thrusts slowed; the new pace he set slow yet deep. Toji pulled out his cock slowly to make you feel him inch by inch, your walls licking at his cock vein by vein until only the tip was left inside, before thrusting full into you in one swift movement of his hips. “You can’t just break up with me and – fuck – tell me I can’t be with others.”

“I own you, sweetheart – I’m your personal disaster,” Toji taunted, large hands groping at your breast when your eyes snapped open, his last final thrusts turning your pussy to mush.

You came around him, hard and overwhelmingly so. Your hands wrapped around his bicep to steady your shaking legs, his name spoken like a prayer with malicious tone as if to curse him. Toji pushed you off his cock until you fell on the floor, his rough hands grabbing at your jaw again to face him, thick spurts of his cum painting your face.

Taking them all in like a good girl, Toji swiped his length over the slope of your nose and pushed the still hard cock through your lips. His hands gripped your head tight as he fucked into your mouth, nothing but anger shown through that scarred face while your jaw fell slack and sore.

“And I’ll break you over and over again until you’re reminded that you’re mine.”

[sugardaddytonystark]

Love Bites (Love Bleeds)

author: sugardaddytonystark pairing: vampire Tony Stark x Reader word count: 4000+

*Explicit*

🔊 Love Bites

At thirty-eight years old, Tony Stark was bitten.

That was ten years ago, and he’s been either blessed or cursed to live out eternity in that same body, hidden away from the light, from people. Few know that he’s fallen victim to the virus. Rumors say that he’s just a shut in, an eccentric, only leaving the house when he’s in his armored suit. But you know better.

You have been his court-appointed guardian for a few months now, and you’ve spent more time with Tony in that short time than most people have in the last decade. You two were getting close, but lately he’s been distant, holed up in his basement workshop. And that’s the one place you don’t go, his private sanctuary.

You have free reign of the rest of Tony’s house, it being your home now as well, and you make good use of it. It’s dark now as you make your way down the stairs in a half-stumbling, middle-of-the-night daze. But you know every step by rote, every creak and every corner. So, even though there aren’t any lights on in Tony’s Malibu mansion, you can navigate it just fine.

You do turn on the light when you round the bar nestled into an alcove in the sitting room. You don’t feel like walking all the way to the kitchen, and you know that the mini bar will have stocked some kind of juice for making cocktails.

As you sip on your drink, you look out into the darkness of the living room and see two shining eyes staring right back at you. The glass slips from your hand as you startle, and in your panic, you step directly on the broken shards.

“OW! SONUVA B—”

Before you even realize what’s happening, you’re off your feet, cradled in a pair of strong, solid arms. You look up and it’s Tony, brows furrowed above concerned, blackest-brown eyes. He tries to give you a little smirk when he sees you staring up at him, but the space between his eyebrows is still pinched, the look of worry on his face.

“If you wanted to join me for a nightcap, honey, all you had to do was ask,” he says, voice low and smooth as he carries you into the adjoining living room.

You clench your jaw, trying not to show how much pain you’re in. “Well, you know me,” you say, “can’t do anything without a little flair.”

“Something we’ve got in common,” Tony replies as he lays you down on the couch. He gently places your head against the arm before getting a throw pillow from the chair and placing it behind you. He sits down on the other side and puts your feet in his lap.

“Here, drink this,” he tells you as he leans over your legs to pick up a glass from the coffee table. “Your nightcap.”

You take the drink and just hold it for a moment, letting the cold radiating from the glass sink into your fingertips. You bring it up to your lips and catch the scent of whiskey, of citrus. You didn’t even know Tony could drink alcohol.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he mutters, looking at the sole of your foot, “next time, a little less flair.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, the glass perched at your lips.

He looks up at you beneath thick eyelashes, a flash of crimson in his otherwise dark eyes. He places two fingers under the glass and tilts it up. “Drink,” he tells you. “You’ll thank me later.”

You tip your head back as you down the rest of Tony’s drink. It goes does smooth, heating up the back of your throat, the warmth blossoming in your chest. You hand the empty glass back to Tony and he sits it on the table.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

You nod your head and close your eyes, fists balled and nails digging into your palm as you prepare for the pain. You can feel Tony’s grip on your ankle tighten, and when he pulls the shard of glass out of your foot, you have to try your damnedest to suppress a scream.

His grip tightens even more, managing to ease the pain a little, slow the flow of blood, as he gently slides your bloodied sock off your foot.

“Shit,” he says, dropping the sock from his one hand and your ankle from his other.

Tony grabs the hem of his shirt, brings it up and over his head. He presses it to the sole of your foot to stop the bleeding and you hiss at the pressure, recoiling at the touch. He wraps his palm around the fabric, keeping his shirt tight against the wound, fingers curled up and over the wounded appendage.

His hold on you is tight, forcing you to stay still. His other hand is stroking your ankle, up your shin - a soft, soothing motion. His eyes are cast downward, fixed on the place where you’re bleeding into his wadded-up shirt.

You watch Tony as he works, trying to distract yourself. He’s nice to look at. More handsome in person, even, than in pictures. He has a lean build, slender but with strong muscles under cool, winter-pale skin. His eyes are the darkest shade of brown, flashing with crimson when they hit the light. They’re big and round and warm, making him look innocent and young, even younger than his everlasting thirty-eight years. His hair is dark, his beard slightly longer than stubble. His lips are flower-petal pink.

The angle of the light from above the bar casts half of his face in the shadow, highlighting the slope of his nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow. A glow emanates from the metal embedded in his chest, and now more than ever, you’re reminded that Tony is part man, part myth, and part machine.

He is truly incredible, you think, and not for the first time. He glances up at you, catches your gaze, then quickly averts his eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.

“I just… feel like I haven’t seen you in a while,” you reply, feeling like velvet – throat dry, head thick and fuzzy. You don’t know if it’s the blood loss, the drink, or just being in Tony’s presence, but everything is starting to feel slow-moving, like you’re stuck in a daze.

The corner of Tony’s mouth turns up in a smirk, but still, he doesn’t look at you. “Have you been missing me, honey?” he asks.

“Yes,” you tell him, unabashed.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, shakes his head, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently peels his shirt from the sole of your foot, inspecting the damage. It must be bad, because you can see his brows furrow again, his nostrils flare.

“Shit, you’re gonna need stitches,” he says. “I’m gonna call the Doc, alright?”

“Wait, Tony,” you say, before he can stand up. “Can’t you just… you know?”

His grip tightens on your ankle. “No,” he says sharply, but he doesn’t try to stand up again.

You’re tired and weak and in pain, so when you whine, “Why not?” you don’t even feel bad about sounding so infantile. “You can heal me in a minute. If not, I’ll be limping around here for weeks.”

Tony, being what he is, can heal a wound almost instantly. His saliva mixed with his blood, and whatever science or magic that is involved, can keep you from being bedridden for however long it would take your wound to heal on its own. You wouldn’t ask normally, but he’s here and, well, you’re curious, not to mention that you’re not ready to be without his touch once again.

“I don’t know if I’d be able to control myself,” he admits to you, softly, as if ashamed.

“I’m bleeding everywhere and you’re controlling yourself now.”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he responds, almost a growl, his voice deep and low. “I wouldn’t call how I’m feeling ‘being in control.’”

“Maybe not, but you’re doing it!”

You two just stare at each other, neither of you budging nor relenting. It’s not even awkward, just tense, this silent battle of wills. But you know that Tony is more stubborn than you, so finally, you give in.

“Fine,” you say. “Just get someone to sew me up.”

But Tony doesn’t move. He just looks at your wounded foot, your ankle still in his painful grip. His stillness is almost unnerving, his dark brown eyes unblinking, his pale face statuesque against the darkness of the room.

“Tony,” you say, nearly frightened. “Please, do something. I’m bleeding!”

“I know,” he replies, his voice soft again, as he seems to shake himself from his stupor. “I know you are.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Tony lifts your leg and presses his nose against the inside of your ankle. He breathes in and closes his eyes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your foot, his short beard brushing over your skin.

“You have no idea how incredible you smell,” he says, so low you barely hear him. “How tempting you are. It’s not that I don’t want to…”

And as he speaks, your hands curl into fists beside you, his words shocking you into near panic. It’s too much, this quick shift, this sudden change in atmosphere. You’re suddenly too caught up in the scene playing out before you to manage any coherent though, let alone words. Do it, you want to tell him, but you can’t, heart pounding, voice caught in your throat. Do it.

“...it’s that I want it too much.”

Tony brings up one of his knees to kneel on the sofa so that he’s turned toward you, between your legs, your ankle still in his hand, your other leg resting across his thigh. He eases up on the pressure around your ankle and you can feel the blood start flowing to your foot again, wet heat running down your wounded sole.

You watch him, enraptured, as he wipes his mouth across the bottom of your foot. You don’t even flinch from the sting of it, too fascinated to move. But you can feel him trembling, his breath coming out ragged against your skin.

When he lifts his mouth from the arch of your foot, there’s a smear of dark blood against his lips. And then, behind, sharp teeth shining white and deadly. His eyes flash with a nocturnal sheen – deep, deep burgundy all but glowing in the darkness. He looks dangerous and feral and like nothing you’ve ever seen before in your life.

You barely register that the pain in your foot has faded, the wound now a mere memory. You can only focus on Tony’s lips, painted red, and the intense pounding of your own heart. Never have you been more aware of the blood rushing through your veins. Or the reality that you’re living under the same roof as the person who would desire it the most.

Tony doesn’t relinquish the hold that he has on your ankle, but the other hand lightly grabs hold of your calf on the same leg, and then slowly, slowly, you feel his palm slide up to the back of your knee. He doesn’t stop. He keeps moving up, palm sliding across the inside of your thigh, his hand squeezing your flesh and staying there.

In the stillness and in the quiet, you can feel your pulse pounding beneath his palm.

Tony then sets your ankle on his shoulder, his hold giving up its claim. He smears blood from his lips up your ankle, kisses the side of your calf. From behind coal black eyelashes he looks up at you, mouth hovering above your skin.

“Aren’t you gonna stop me?” he asks, placing his lips on the inside of your knee. He kisses you there and you shiver, almost tickled by the soft touch against your sensitive skin, overwhelmed by him worshipping places that no one else has ever even cared to touch.

You slowly shake your head no and he closes his eyes, dragging his cool mouth up the inside of your trembling thigh. You arch your back as he moves higher still, planting a line of kisses up your delicate flesh.

“There are places where you smell the most you,” he whispers, almost absentmindedly, lips grazing your skin as he speaks. “The back of your knee... the inside of your elbow... your throat, your hair… your cunt.” He buries his face between your legs and inhales deep, moaning. “You should really tell me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him, your voice hardly even a whisper. “Don’t stop, Tony.”

“What do you want?” he asks, mouth hovering over your pussy, those shimmering black eyes looking up at you from behind dark lashes.

You roll your hips up. “I want you to bite me.”

He rears back so fast that you jump in surprise. You sit up and grab his arm, afraid that he’s going to leave. You must have gone too far this time. Too far too fast and now you’ve pushed him away.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says, voice hoarse and rough. “You don’t really want that.”

You lead him closer by his arm, then wrap your other hand around the back of his neck. You lean your forehead against his and you hear him take a shuddering breath. You close your eyes and savor the feeling of him being so close to you – forehead to forehead, the sides of your noses resting against the other, your fingertips against his flesh and his hands noticeably absent from your body. You shiver, chilled at all the places that you two are touching, his skin cold against yours.

“I do,” you tell him. “I want you, Tony.”

You stare at him, waiting. He stalls a heartbeat before he tilts his chin, angling for a tentative kiss. He presses his soft lips against yours, wraps his arm around your waist. You cup his face in your palms, thumbs running across his cheekbones. He nips softly at your bottom lip, not even close to breaking the skin, before soothing the spot with his tongue.

It should disgust you – having Tony’s mouth on yours after he licked up your blood – but you only taste a slight metallic tang, mostly masked by the whiskey that both of you drank. It’s intoxicating, Tony’s cool mouth, his sharp teeth against your sensitive lip, his taste, yours, the sharp sweetness of the alcohol.

“More,” you moan. “Please.”

“Impatient,” he chides, then plants a kiss on the side of your mouth. “Greedy.”

Tony turns his head and kisses the inside of your wrist, your hand cupping his cheek. He runs his tongue over the delicate veins, and you gasp, trembling in anticipation. He doesn’t stop, though. He keeps moving, kissing up the inside of your arm, his mouth leaving a trail of goosebumps on the surface of your skin.

He moves his arm from around your waist, bracing one hand against the couch behind you as he slides his other hand under your shirt and up your stomach. His fingertips are cold and soft against your body, the temperature almost a shock, and you’re torn between moving away and arching toward him. But the sensation is nice, you’ve never felt anything like it, and you know you won’t be forgetting it any time soon.

Tony’s lips touch your bare shoulder, once, slowly, and then once more, lingering against your skin. He moves upwards and your breath catches when you feel his open mouth against your neck. He sucks the blood to the surface of your throat like he can taste it through your skin, marking your soft flesh with soon to be tender bruises that you’re sure will last for days.

You can feel your pulse in your throat, hear your quickening heartbeat. Tony is saying something, but it doesn’t register in your mind, you’re so caught in feeling of his lips against your skin as they move.

“Where –?” you sigh, echoing what you think you heard.

You groan as Tony pulls away from you, and when you open your eyes, he’s staring down at you, half-smiling. “Where do you want it?” he asks again, cocking an eyebrow. “The throat is conventional, but –"

“Yes,” you reply, impatient. “I – anywhere. Everywhere. Just… please.”

You want him to devour you, consume you. You want his lips against your body, to feel his teeth sink into your skin. You’ve dreamt about it almost every night, giving yourself to him, him having his way with you, doing whatever he wants to do with your body.

Tony’s smile grows wider, and he bites down on his bottom lip, sharp white teeth gleaming in the low light. He bends down, chest to chest, and kisses you again, his cold skin melting against your warm body, the two of you separated by just your shirt. He makes quick work of that inconvenient piece of fabric, his lips leaving yours just long enough to pull it over your head and throw it out of the way.

His mouth moves down your throat, slowly, across your collarbone, down your breast to latch on to your hard nipple. His tongue licks across it, then he lets his teeth graze the taut peak, his hand coming up to pinch and pull at your other one.

The chill of his fingers has you shivering, arching your back up toward him. Your eagerness must spur him on because he grabs your breast in his palm, almost too rough and desperate, fingertips digging into your flesh.

Too soon, Tony moves between your breasts, then kisses down your stomach. You roll your body to meet him at every place his lips touch – sternum, then stomach, then hips. He grabs the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down your legs as he sinks to his knees on the floor.

His hands grip the back of your knees and pull your legs apart, opening you up to him. The way he’s handing you now is neither gentle nor shy, maneuvering you so that he can get his shoulders between your thighs, his face level to your cunt.

It’s jarring, to realize that you’re naked on Tony Stark’s living room sofa, with Tony himself below you, in just his sweatpants and socks. That his blood, no matter how little of it, is inside of you now. Your blood in him. This joining seems irreversible, more momentous than you would have ever imagined. There’s no possible way that you will ever be the same after this, regardless of what happens.

What has happened will have been enough to change you completely.

And then Tony tongues the sharp point of one of his deadly teeth, a strange glint in his dark eyes, and you are thrust back into the present, aware and frightened of what you’ve asked for.

Tony no longer seems hesitant, not when he grazes the tip of his nose against your clit. Not when he inhales your scent, moans on the exhale. And certainly not when he covers your clit with his mouth, lips and tongue shockingly cold against your hypersensitive flesh.

“Tony!” your practically scream. “Fuck, Tony!”

And he moans at the sound of your voice saying his name, the noise vibrating against your pussy, making you squirm. Your hands find his hair, soft between your fingers. Having something to grab on to is somewhat grounding, but you can feel him move against you, your hands not guiding him but just touching, and that only adds to the realization of what you’re doing. Only makes you that more desperate.

There’s no build up to get used to the sensations. Tony starts immediately licking and sucking your clit like he can’t help himself. Like he’d want nothing more than to eat you up here on his sofa. And you’d let him too, let him have all of you if that’s what he wanted. More than just your blood or your pussy. You’d let him devour you whole.

Your body arches and you push against him, making him bury his face harder against you. Tony flattens his tongue and licks at your clit, then moves lower, and lower, tongue lapping at your entrance, then, the sensitive spot between your pussy and asshole.

You’ve wanted this, dreamed about it, and now that you have him, it’s so much more than you could have ever imagined. And when he slides a finger into you, easily with the aid of how wet you are for him, you can barely hold yourself together.

Tony pumps his finger in and out of you, slowly, while his tongue plays with your clit, explores your folds. You could cry, you feel so good, and when he adds another, you do. Tears spill down your cheeks as his fingers fuck you, pressing against your soft inner walls and curving just right.

As he pumps into you, the inside of his knuckles rub against a spot below your clit that you never even knew was there, and you can feel that pressure building, that feeling growing low in your belly.

Tony’s mouth leaves your pussy and his thumb finds your clit, his strong, dexterous fingers touching you in all the places that you need. He kisses your inner thigh, licks at the skin there, sucks, nips, and you jerk at the sensation. His works at the soft skin, sucking a bruise into your flesh.

You couldn’t stop it if you wanted. You come. Hips rolling as you fuck yourself on his fingers. You hands still gripping his hair tight. Your eyes are pressed closed, the wetness of your tear still lingering on your cheeks.

And then – he bites. And it’s euphoric. There’s ringing in your ears like the aftermath of a scream, and maybe you did, your voice rough and raw as you call his name, as you plead for something that you don’t even know you want.

Everything is black, your entire body narrowed down to his fingers filling you up and his mouth sucking your blood. You can’t even hold on to him anymore, your hands drop from his hair as you come down from your orgasm, Tony still sucking on the tender and bruised skin of your punctured thigh.

You feel weak, only moving when Tony wipes his mouth on the inside of your thigh. And then he lifts up, face to face with you and you make a feeble attempt to kiss him, instinctively. You can smell the bitter copper scent on him as he turns his face to the side, nuzzles his cheek against yours.

He’s warm now, such a drastic difference than from before. Warm, pink cheeked, thin lips red and slightly swollen. You could mistake him for human.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Tony says. “Can you walk?”

You nod your head, but you sway as you stand. Without hesitation, he picks up like he did before, and carries you effortlessly up the stairs and toward your room. The walk is peaceful, silent, and you let the lull of his footsteps calm you. You close your eyes and almost as soon as you do, you are in your bed, warm and comfortable under the blankets.

Tony stands above you and you hold onto his hand, then run your fingers up his arm, from his wrist, softly, to his elbow. How long will you be able to touch him like this? Now that you’ve had him, you’re not sure you’ll be able to let him go.

“Will you come see me?” You ask. “Tomorrow night? Please.”

Tony gently takes your hand off of his elbow and brings it up to his lips. He kisses your knuckles, almost chaste. “Goodnight,” he says, eyes shimmering in the darkness of your room. “And sleep well. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”

if you’ve got love in your sights,

watch out, love bites

[minkdenmilo]

Alright so I’ve seen people want more female content creators, more POC content creators, more LGBT content creators within the Dream SMP and YES- I want that too- but... we should take a moment to hype up the content creators who already fit these categories!

Here is my list of the POC, LGBT, and women content creators who are regularly active on the Dream SMP and my personal takes on them and their content! So please give these content creators some love and more attention because they all deserve it so much!!!

Women Content Creators

+ Nihachu

- If you like sweet, adorable, more laid back streams than you’ll love Nihachu. Able to play around with both more playful funny moments and then be a great dramatic actor for deep lore moments as well.

+ Captain Puffy

- So wholesome and the only stable adult on the Dream SMP. She is SO funny- like her roasting Skeppy and Badboyhalo is the highlight of my day. A very fun energy and can also jump between lore and jokes like no one’s business. If you like Ranboo then I’m sure you’ll love her.

+ Hannah Rose

- I’ve only just started watching her but her streams so far have been so relaxed. She’s the perfect mixture of sweet as sugar but also sassy and able to hold her own. She gave Tommy a rose then jokingly roasted him over his constant demanding over it. Also her builds are so aesthetic and her stream set-up is gorgeous to look at.

LGBT Content Creators

+ Eret

- All of their streams are chill as fuck, literal vibes. He has the best music tastes ever and has public Spotify playlists if you ever want to hear more of her tastes. Very open about being LGBT and the chat for them is continually one of the nicest I have seen and very supportive to those coming out. Eret is a great streamer to watch when doing homework or classwork because you can watch him vibe without being too distracted unlike Tommy or Quackity’s streams.

+ Nihachu

- Please just... Nihachu in lore is so overlooked but you can clearly see the hell she’s gone through as a character and seeing her go from a starry eyed running mate of Fundy’s to a women determined to destroy Tommy and Dream for the pain they’ve caused her and her former nation... it’s so good. Also her and Jack Manifold have the best Team Rocket dynamic of all time.

+ Captain Puffy

- Captain Puffy in plot as a sweet older sister figure to all the disturbed minors is iconic and her therapy office is so cute. She is the mom friend to Awesamdude’s dad friend energy and she is equally as commited to taking down the egg so watching her continually try to avoid the Egg and help those she cares about is the best.

+ Antfrost

- Go check out Antfrost’s twitter first and formost because he and his boyfriend (Velvetiscake) pop off with every tweet. Secondly, Antfrost is generally a chaotic presence but in a much more lowkey way than most other SMP members. As a character his motivations are pretty hidden right now but him and Badboyhalo are a great villian duo. Antfrost also regularly streams Pummel Party stuff and Jackbox stuff with his other friends (and his boyfriend) which keep me in stitches. Stg if he and Velvet flirt like that on their Jackbox streams one more time I will lose it 😤 (/lh)

POC Content Creators

+ Skeppy

- He doesn’t stream often but every time he does he pops off. Also, not super involved in lore but whenever he joins he pops off. Him and Badboyhalo’s dynamic is iconic and just- so fucking funny! But also Skeppy does Youtube videos on his Youtube channel which are usually rather short but honestly so funny. He mainly trolls Badboyhalo or does like Minecraft challenge videos and as simple as that may seem he always makes me smile with his high energy and general chaotic nature while still being pretty family friendly and relaxed. Very good if you mainly watch Youtube or don’t have time for long VODs and streams.

+ Ponk

- I have only just found out about him but he is SO wonderful. His voice firstly is oddly soothing so that’s a plus but he streams frequently! And he usually streams at an earlier time than most other SMP people (aka not late at night like Quackity and shit) and he genuinely is so funny. He talks to his chat a bit more than the bigger streamers and goes between a casual, chill vibe and a specific kind of chaos that reminds me of like- when Ranboo is hyper. Please I can’t express how much I love Ponk please just watch his streams. Also Ponk in the Egg Plot makes me cry with laughter- mans is so picky “Can I have an iced mocha please?” like sir you are literally being trapped with an evil egg.

+ Quackity

- Quackity is an icon. Stream his song “Any Askers” on Soundcloud. Watch any of his Roblox, GTA, or Soap Opera streams. He shouts a lot and is high energy so he’s perfect if that’s your vibe. He sings like an autotuned angel, is so sweet about donations and gifted subs, and has amazing chemistry with everyone he streams with. Within the lore he is also an amazing actor with a really complex character and I am so glad he is getting his time to shine with his capitalist arc. Though he does tend to stream later at night.

If I forgot any Dream SMP members please let me know and in general just leave recommendations for good LGBT, POC, and women streamers if you can! Feel free to reblog because I love all of these content creators and I want people to hype them up 🥺

[cherryblossomtease]

Part 6a

18+ only

warnings summary masterlist

~Castle Zemo~

If a place could have a personality, this one would be as bold as the man who owns it.

You stand before the ancient structure, dwarfed by the rising towers and walls of stone. Only moments ago you thought the portcullis was the grandest thing you’d ever seen as the carriage brought you through, but now that you stand in the gravel drive, peering up at the castle which has stood since nearly the founding of Sokovia, it hits you heavy as a keystone, your life has truly changed forever.

“It’s incredible,” You manage when Helmut comes up behind you. “I don’t know what else to say really.” You try to count the turrets but it’s too hard in the dark and there are too many.

He stands at your side looking up, the fur of his coat turned high against the evening winds and you don’t even try to guess what he’s thinking. The man has years of memories built up behind these thick walls. “Say nothing, say everything, whatever you wish Baroness it is yours.” He says and smiles down at you.

The servants are standing to the side and you follow his lead going to greet them. Honestly you expect to be met with some hostility. Most of the serving class don’t take kindly to anyone attempting to rise above their station any better than those who employ them, but instead you are welcomed with accented hello’s as the butlers and footmen bow while the maids and kitchen girls curtsy. You meet each face with a smile and take the hand of your new and first Lady’s maid hoping you will have a good relationship. You’ll need a friend without Brigitte here and this one is the closest you’ll have.

“The fire is strong tonight my Lord. No chill will break through those old stone walls.”Says the old man at the head of the line. His English is a little hard to understand but you appreciate that he speaks it for your sake.

“Very good Oeznik” Helmut says clapping the butler on the shoulder. “We’ll eat in the small dining room and retire, it’s been a long journey. My wife and I— the Baroness.” Both men look back at you. “Are very tired.”

“Of course my Lord.”

You smile and bow to Oeznik forgetting that you’re not meant to but he doesn’t correct you, Instead he welcomes you home.

Once you’ve finished eating and Helmut has given you a fairly brisk tour of the castle by candlelight, you follow him up the center staircase as wide as the theatre stage to the halls upstairs. You feel dizzy and a little on edge by the time he stops at the heavy wooden doors of the room you will share. It is beautiful and grand, but you get a sense of ghostly eyes peering back at you from every dark corner, as though you are not alone inside this medieval dwelling.

It will take some time getting used to such a life, but you will try. For now you follow your husband closely inside.

Expecting something rather stark and cheerless, you are pleasantly surprised to find the room glowing warm with the fire, the bed piled high with pillows and wrapped with a shining silk duvet. There are chairs that look perfect for reading in the corner, a beautiful settee in font of the fire, and a large carpet to keep your feet warm. The walls are painted a deep and calming bluish green from floor to ceiling, moulding included, and you find the far wall of windows to be absolutely glorious. You can see the moon no matter where you are in the room.

“Helmut it’s beautiful.”

He is watching you, smiling, pleased to see that you are.

“I’ve always liked it.”

“It’s hard to imagine that you actually grew up here, that any one can grow up in such a magnificent place.”

He shrugs a little as if he’s never considered it, but then he’s never known anything else. “Perhaps.”

“I would have gotten lost so many times.” You say with a laugh.

“Lost, no, but there are many places to hide” He says sitting on the little bench at the end of the bed “Often, I would have to send the nurse to hunt Carl down, he would find places even I had never discovered.”

You turn, surprised to hear his son’s name. He’s said it once before and you’re certain it was a mistake then, he hadn’t been ready to share it with you so you’d only given him an understanding smile and steered the conversation in another direction. But now; you know it is the right time and place to speak of the child and the happy life they once had here, even if only for a moment.

You go to him, sliding your hands over his shoulders, standing between his legs. “It’s a beautiful place to watch a boy grow. You should speak of him often, his memory lives on with you Helmut, and in time, when you are ready and if we are able, perhaps you will have more sons—and daughters to chase after.”

His eyes dart up studying your face. At first he seems distant, afraid to put himself in that position of vulnerability, but as his gaze wanders down from your eyes to your lips and below, he softens and sighs. Of course he wants this. The part of him that still aches for what he’s lost has been slowly mending over time and as you promised to love him until you draw your last breath in that little country church, you had sewn the final stitch.

He is ready.

Without warning the door opens and both Hilda, your Lady’s maid and the old man Oeznik come in which is surprising to exactly no one but you.

You look back at Helmut wide eyed but he just smiles and shrugs, rising up from the bench.

"Brandy my Lord?" The butler asks coming to him.

"Not tonight Oeznik, thank you." Helmut answers, excusing himself to go and stand in the center of the room. He puts his arms out and his dinner jacket is removed with quick and careful precision.

"My Lady." Hilda says kindly.

You jump to attention having been mesmerized by the sight of a man undressing another. "Oh, yes... um. Yes?"

Hilda smiles and shows you how to stand as she helps you with your traveling clothes. She is impressive and works so quickly you can only give yourself over to her skill looking back at the Baron and pulling a face of concession that makes him laugh.

"It's good to see you happy again sir." You overhear Oeznik say as he pulls the Barons vest off.

Helmut just smiles and nods, crossing the room so that Oeznik may remove his cufflinks and place them in the dressing table drawer.

"Would you like me to help you into your nightgown my Lady?" She asks while it's just the two of you "Or would you like the Baron to do it?"

Snapping your head around, your eyes dart back to find Hilda's, sparkling in the firelight with just a spot of mischief in them. It makes you smile and relax a little. "It's all right, I've got something nice on underneath. Just help me out of this?" You answer and she gives a firm nod reaching for the ribbon around your neck but you turn quickly, your hands going protectively around the velvet. "No, please. L-Leave it." You mutter unable to look her in the eye.

She quickly bows her head looking at the floor. "Forgive me my Lady." She must know, but you don't want to think about it, not now.

"It's fine. Just, don't touch it please." You say awkwardly and turn around letting her undress you in silence.

By the time she's done and collecting your shed clothes, you thank her for her help wanting nothing more than to get past it. Hilda dips and looks up, her little smile showing that there are no hard feelings between you.

Smiling as you watch her slip away; the door shutting with a click behind her, you sigh and look around the beautiful room, the only sound the crackle of the roaring fire.

Helmut is waiting. He glances over at you from his place beside the bed, rubbing his hands together as he is in the habit of doing. He looks down with a smile. "Come here" He says amused that you are still standing so far away.

You pad over —that lovely rug like a cloud under your feet— until you are standing in front of him, closer to naked in your pretty cotton shift than you have ever been with any man before.

You are aware of how your nipples brush the nearly sheer fabric and how the feeling between your legs seems to spread like a little spark setting off a fire that makes your skin hot to the touch. Helmut is not the only one ready for this. You have wanted him for so long.

Your hair hangs free of the many pins to keep it up and he brushes it back over your shoulders. His fingertips graze along your bare collar bones as he admires the way your shift barely clings to your arms. Reaching for your hand, Helmut raises it up to kiss your fingers, holding your one hand with both of his. “You’re shaking,” He says stroking gently, his deep voice making you nearly crave him in spite of being afraid. You blush and look away. “I’ll add more to the fire.” He suggests.

“No, the fire is perfect.” You answer glancing back at the hearth large enough for more than one man to stand in.

Helmut looks down at you, gently hooking his finger around your chin, turning your head to face him again. His smile is sympathetic “I think I understand.”

You draw your lip between your teeth only for him to tug at your chin freeing it; now a dark and slightly wet pink. He strokes your plump lip and you lean forward just the slightest bit, kissing his thumb, your eyes rising up to meet his.

He makes a soft, low sound, something like a moan that fades into a sigh and slides his hands up and into your hair, holding your head still as he kisses you. He moves his body closer, pressing his hips against you letting you feel the exact effect you have on him and you can not help the way your eyes open going a little wide. You try to move away but he takes you by both arms.

“It’s all right.” He says, looking so soft in the deep orange glow. “Don’t be afraid of me mala ptica ” His husky voice in contrast to the warmth of his face. “And I promise I'll try not to hurt you.”

Your eyes dart up just as he kisses you.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Title: Just Gotta Stay Calm

Word Count: 3966

Fandom: Gravedale High

Ship/Pairing: Vinnie Stoker/Reggie Moonshroud

Tags: First Dates, Vampire Family, Tradition, Awkward Crush, Vampire Boyfriend, Werewolf Boyfriend, First Kiss, Dorks in Love, Awkward Dates, Boys in Love, Friendship/Love

Warnings: First Works of the fandom, swearing(small), awkward, fluff

Vinnie let in a breath as he examines himself in the special vampire mirror on his bedroom wall. He quietly checks every inch of his face closely before opening his mouth to check his fangs.

Good, He thought with a charming grin to himself. No pimples, no stuff in my teeth, no flaws in sight.  Vinnie went to his dresser and takes out some cologne he bought specifically for today, a scent of calming forest rain, and sprayed some on his neck and a little bit in his shirt. Not a lot just the basic stuff to seem simple and posh.

Vinnie and Reggie are finally getting themselves a date.  A real, really real, true date.  Just the two of them.  And Vinnie could be more happier then this moment!

Vinnie has been meaning to ask his best friend out for quite some time, since the first moment he noticed his feelings were a bit more then platonic bashful moths in his chest and stomach actually.  It took him a total of two full months to completely wrap his head around the fact that he - Vincent "Vinnie" Stoker - was wings over heels in love with the world's one and only Reggie Moonshroud.  However, it took him nearly a YEAR to get up all the courage to ask the boy out. Honestly, if it weren't for his friends this day might've never happened.

The young vampire left his bedroom and hurries down his stairs, only to be stopped by the voice of his old man, "Vincent, can you come here please?" Vinnie let out a silent shutter as he mentally cursed himself.

He slowly turned his body fully towards the older vampire sitting in his velvet chair with a pipe in between his lips, small puffs of the smoke emerging out the ends. The teen slowly walked over. "Y-Yea pops?" His voice rarely stammers when speaking, hasn't since he was in the 6th grade, at least not when he nervous beyond his wits like when he tried to get the chance to ask Reggie out and plan out what to do on said date.

"Are you going to go on your date soon?" Asked Mr. Stoker. Vinnie nods some in reply, his hands fumbling into his jacket's pockets. This was not what he wanted to do.  The older vampire stood up from his chair, pipe still puffing out smoke, his eyes focus out the window of the chilly autumn gray skies. He takes a puff before continuing, "I want to give you some simple advice for your first date Vincent. Vampire to vampire." Vinnie practically shrunk his head down into his coat's collar.

Defiantly not what he wanted to do. . .

"That's okay pops, I got it covered-" He began as he slowly creeped his way to the front door. "The year was 1880. . ."  Vinnie bite back a groan, knowing very well that once his dad starts it's hard to stop him.  "I was simply a beginning apprentice to the one and only Dracula. Mostly paper work and long mornings. I thought I had everything cut out for me, a great job and nice home, until I realized I was missing something important when I first saw your mother wandering through the local cemetery." Mr. Stoker smiles fondly as he light strokes his black beard. "She is my first and only love as I'm sure you know. And it took me decades to ask her on a single date, I feared she might not want a simple vampire apprentice who barely knows how to turn into a bat, but alas she surprise me with a yes."  Vinnie nods, "Yeah yeah I know. And you two spent many years together, got married, had two kids, and lived happily ever after. Dad, I know the story pretty well you know."

He didn't mean to interrupt his father's tale, he just already has his nerves up through the roof and he just want to hurry for the plans.  His father turned and looked at his son right in the eyes as he spoke, "I know you do. I'm just trying to tell you that last night I was certain to give you some advice for your date, a vampire tradition my father gave me as his father gave him and his father so forth. I know you're nervous and it's perfectly natural. Just remember, be courteous. Be engaging. And above all, have a plan." Vinnie nodded. "Don't worry pops, I got it covered. Now can I go and do the date itself?" He asked the older vampire, who nodded to his please. He didn't wait any few seconds to open the front door and flying off with a snap.

This will go well, He thought to himself as he feels the wind go through his black hair. Reggie will enjoy the date I have planned for us. This is a piece of blood orange pie. Vinnie smiled as he spaces out on today's plans. Slowly, though, his brain began to swim to a memory of when he got the nerves to finally make that choice he's been walking back and forth on. . .

~   ~   ~

Vinnie taps the heels of his shoe onto the cold hard floor of the school's classroom as he watches the clock tic away, his eyes going to the clock and to the werewolf just a desk away from him.  Today was the day, Vinnie told himself throughout the hours. Today I'm going to do it.  As if proving his luck, the bell rings out around the school, signalling everyone to grab their stuff and hurry the Hell out of there for the weekend.  Vinnie stood onto his feet, catching Gil and Sid giving him a thumbs up as they run out the classroom, and looks over at Reggie who is still putting his stuff away.

The vampire took a breath in and walked his way over to the red head's desk, his feet feeling kind of heavy as he gets closer. Be cool Vinnie, just do it. "Hey Reg." His voice called out suddenly, the rest of his body slowly just going with the flow.  Reggie turned his head and smiled up at his friend. "Hey there Vinnie. You usually are gone by now, is Mr. Schneider Sir seeing you after class again?" He asked as he puts his books away in his bag. Vinnie smiles warmly, he enjoys Reggie's voice. The way his small lisp happens between the small gap of the front of his teeth.  The way his voice cracks sometimes in the right moments. Just generally how comforting it is...

The vampire quickly shook his head when he finally notices Reggie is standing up and looking at him with cocoa brown eyes that warm up Vinnie's dead chest, "No no. I just wanted to know...if...um...i-if you don't mind me asking...I uh..."  "Yes Vinnie?" Reggie pressed on. Honestly, it's like he knows what he's doing to me. Vinnie took a gulp from his dry mouth before he spoke a retry, "I just wanted to know...if...if...well...if you're free this weekend? Maybe...we could...go out?" He didn't know if he sounded needy or not but he didn't care, he finally said it!

Reggie blinked a few times before replying, "Of course we can hang out Vin. We often times do already."  "No, Reggie, I meant...go out...like a...date...?" Vinnie was so scared to look at Reggie in the face yet he has to in order to watch his reaction.  And boy was it a reaction... His cute wolf ears were perked down in a way his shyness shows, hard to tell but behind that fur his cheeks were very rosey and red, just looking at him gave Vinnie so much heat on his face he for sure thought he was going to die.

~    ~     ~

Vinnie chuckled softly when Reggie's face on that day came to mind.

Well, yeah, the reply was a day late but nevertheless he said yes.  And the day has finally came.

Vinnie soon landed at Reggie's place, a pretty big home of four stories with a even bigger yard surrounded it of 6 aches each side. He knew Reggie's family owned a big home for such a big family but he honestly wasn't expecting something so... human dream life. A white picket fence wrapping around the areas of land, green grass in perfect height, the house painted in a nice paint of soft blue with the windows having a white coat to the edges, a cute porch sticking out from the big dark brown oak made front door, and to fit so perfectly a nice little porch swing with a small coffee table.  In all honesty neither Vinnie nor Reggie been to each others' houses despite being friends for years. Always staying at the dorms the school gave them for half the week.

The vampire slowly made his way to the porch and gently pulled the rope that rings the door bell loudly it echos around him and to the forest not far from the house itself. He tripled checked in his head the plans of the date as he waits a few seconds before the door opened and Reggie's head popped into view. "Hey Vinnie." Reggie said with a smile and opened the door already for him to step out. "Hey there Reg-" Vinnie nearly chocked on his words upon seeing Reggie. He wasn't wearing anything out of his comfort zone but something Vinnie was expecting obviously... Let alone something his heart was ready for.  There standing in front of him with the shine of the afternoon sun glimmering a special effect through the tree leafs Reggie wearing a typical white button-down shirt and well ironed dress pants but wears also a well knitted beige and blood red pattern pullover sweater vest and a black Letterman jacket with a big red R stitched to his chest's right side, his hair combed in a messy side bangs style to the left side of his face. Honestly, Vinnie doesn't know if this was more cute or sexy and he was pretty scared of both.  "I-I could change if you want..." Reggie stated, snapping Vinnie out of his daze to realize he's been staring holes into the poor werewolf. "No no you're okay Reg. Just uh...caught me off guard is all. It's cool." Vinnie spoke up with his hands up in defense.

Reggie giggles some, causes Vinnie's undead heart to for sure jumble in beats like a drum.

The first stop of this little date for the two monsters was a nice little fly over the town to the date's main destination. Reggie clings to Vinnie from behind, his face so close to his their cheeks are barely touching softly, his eyes watching the town below them. "Gee Vinnie, this is beautiful." He whispered but Vinnie heard it very well, his warm breath gently dancing across Vinnie's ear, his cheeks warming up in a soft shade of pink, a smile appearing on the vampire's lips. If anything, if he had a chance to say it, Reggie was the most beautiful thing to Vinnie's eyes. Though as a sad as it had pained him he knew he would crash into something if he doesn't focus.

His eyes scanned around the area before carefully landing in front of a cafe looking place. Reggie looked around the place when he climbed down from the vampire's back as he tucked in his wings. "Um... Vinnie." Reggie mumbled softly as he dragged his feet closer to Vinnie. Vinnie let out a hum, "Yeah Reg?" "Correct me if I'm wrong but this is a human cafe is it not?" Indeed it was.  "Yeah. I figured to have a nice bite here for a change." "True it's just... don't you rather want to go to Ms. White's Diner? It's one of your favorites right?" Vinnie had to fight back the urge of going to his favorite 50's diner and share a monster shake with Reggie, he had a plan and he's sticking to it. He gently takes his paw and said, "This is just as good Reg, promise. Plus they serve your favorite here. Trust me."  Reggie looked at the place and at Vinnie, seemed to be small on numbers of humans... So it could be okay right?

The two monsters entered the cafe and walked it's way to a table right in the center. The place was nice, clean, quiet, cute, and had a nice nature aesthetic with potted plants hanging from the ceiling and the smell of coffee and tea with some sweets filling your sense of smell. "This place is nice." Reggie said, his eyes focused on every little detail around him.  The V-Man couldn't help but smile proudly, the date's going so well so far.

A waiter walks over to their table with a notepad and spoke to the two teenage monsters, "Afternoon gentlemen. What can I get you for drinks?" Vinnie opened the menu.  "I'd like a black coffee with a side of milk creamer."  The waiter nodded and looked at Reggie waiting for his answer.  The werewolf quietly looked through the menu, his eyes widening like space saucers. "O-Oh my...Um...w-water would be fine..."  The waiter wrote the orders down before hurrying to the back.  Reggie looked at Vinnie with a raised brow, "This place is expensive Vinnie. They don't even serve your favorite drinks here. And I think you need it, you look ill..."

Vinnie knew Reggie was worried, he can hear it in his voice, but he can't simply explain it... Since the night before last he hasn't had a drop of blood to nibble a sip from due to how stressed and nervous he was getting over asking Reggie out and planning out this perfect date. Black coffee was the best he could get to that bitter goodness. And if not, the creamer would do the trick.  Still, he knew he can't say all that to Reggie, not to seem not cool in front of his crush but also because he doesn't want the werewolf to feel bad or blame himself. Instead he just smiles his traditional smile and leaned back in his chair as he coats his voice with soothing calmness, "It's fine Reg. Everything fine actually. I just... had a big batch during breakfast and need the coffee here is good as I'm told. Plus, the money, don't worry. I got it covered." He finishes with a wink and another smile which caused Reggie's shoulders to calm down slightly.

After a few more seconds the waiter returned with their drinks and a notepad still in hand, "Here is your black coffee with a side of milk creamer and your glass of water sirs. May I interest you into something to eat?" Vinnie glances at the man's meaty neck and silently licked his fang out of sights, his brain wracking him inside his skull to try and not accept the urge to chomp down onto that neck and drink up. His hand quickly grabbed the coffee cup as soon as it was set and took a big gulp of it. Bitter. Not as bitter but still helps a little. He thought, feeling his nerves calm down a bit more.  He glances over at Reggie and smiles, "Why don't you order first? I'll follow after."  Reggie fixes his glasses and looked over the menu, a few times his eyes peeking at Vinnie as if asking for his help. "G-Gee...there's a lot of good options... Um..." He pondered out loud, Vinnie could see the human tapping his pen in a annoyance type manner. He bite down on his bottom lip some to fight back his new urge to range his neck.  Before the urge could happen for real, Reggie's voice rang out to Vinnie's ears, "I-I guess I can have the Pea & Carrot Soup with the Greek Salad as the side?"  "And you sir?" Vinnie had to remember how to talk before he took a quick glance at the menu before blurting out his order, "I'd like a French Onion Soup." And like before the man walked away after writing the orders down.

Vinnie noticed Reggie seemed more awkward and fidgety then his usual form.  "Everything alright Reg?" Vinnie asked, his voice truly worried. He truly is worried for Reggie. Maybe he caught that waiter's rudeness towards them because of their race? Maybe it's the fact it's clearly two boys out doing things beyond friends? The vampire's head is just about to explode over the thoughts on what could be wrong with his Reggie- My Reggie? Vinnie thought of having Reggie of his very own before... I mean it did sound nice to him but would Reggie be down to being...

Reggie softly shook his head with a mumbled, "It's nothing, really..." But Vinnie knew something's been bothering his pal. Maybe... Vinnie felt sick thinking this, Maybe he's not comfortable being on a date with me... Before he knew it the food had arrived but the two didn't seem in the mood to enjoy it... Vinnie gulped down the rest of his coffee and stared down at his dish.

Great, my nerves are all over the place now and Reggie ain't having a good time... He thought as he watched Reggie gently nibble on his soup and salad, the two barely having one or two small conversations. This date is going terrible...

The two left the cafe quietly and quickly after paying for the bill. The two were still pretty silent. Reggie broke this awkward pause in the air with a smile, "The food was pretty good Vinnie." Vinnie doesn't reply. "Vinnie..?" Suddenly, the second monster on this date let out a groan like sigh before slumping his body down a grass area in the side walk, "That stupid waiter! 50 bucks and all he had to do is make it nice!"

Reggie tilt his head at this and quietly asked, "What do you mean...?"  There was a pause when Vinnie looked away with no answer, causing it to click to the smarter of the two.  "Vinnie Stoker, did you pay a human waiter for our date?"  Vinnie sighed, "Not just paid Reggie, I paid the guy $50 to hold off any other reservations so it can be just us... I know you don't like really crowded places but that guy ruined it. I wasted 50 from my allowance just to have a guy be rude to you." Vinnie covered his face with his palms. "I'm sorry Reg...I really am..." Surprising Vinnie, Reggie grabbed his hand and pulls him up before guiding him somewhere.

"Hey Reg, where we going?" He asked, but his question fell on deaf ears as the werewolf still guided him silently.  Suddenly the vampire began to feel a new kind of nervous. Was Reggie mad? Was he going to yell at him for bribing a human? Does he know he hasn't been drinking his daily sips of blood?  He felt sick at the ideas of any of those being true and he blew this date... His one chance... And he blew it major time... There might not even be a second chance in this... "Look Reg..." Vinnie started, hanging his head low in shame. Reggie stopped him, "You didn't have to do any of that Vinnie. I would be perfectly fine going to any place we usual go."  Vinnie did not want this date to be ruined. He did not want his friendship to be tainted. All Vinnie wanted to do was do what he planned, even if it was sudden...

"I like you Reggie!"

Reggie stopped suddenly and whipped his head around so fast he must've felt dizzy.  No turning back now huh? Vinnie thought, taking a deep breath in, "I've always liked you Reg... And I mean really like you... Like...Like... I always get happy in the mornings because I get a chance to be near you at school, it's the only reason why I don't ditch as often. And when you're not there I feel sad...so sad I feel sick... I often re-read the messages we send back and forth after school because I miss talking to you that much... A-And that time when I was running for School President and you were helping me... Reggie, I felt so happy just being around you...seeing you so happy at what you were doing... I know this isn't stuff you want to hear instead of a apology...but I swear to you it's truer then true Reggie... I really like you... I've liked you for so long...I don't know when but I know when I figured it out... when you were fallin from the sky and I was running to you... All that's been runnin' around my head was "I can't let him go"... Reggie... you matter to me so much the idea of you not here with me is killing me..."

Vinnie was so scared to look up at his friend, scared he made it worst... "I just...I know this date ended up bad... but I-" Vinnie's words were cut short when he lifted his head to finally face his nerves, quickly his lips were covered by the soft fur of Reggie's lips.  The teen vampire felt his undead heart beat for miles and miles as every second slowly passes by between them, his eyes widen more then the usual wide but slowly his body began to melt by the warmth of Reggie's lips and they slowly blinked to a close while his lips push pressure back into the kiss.

The kiss lasted about a extra minute before the two pulled away, Vinnie's ears catching a soft small puppy like whine coming from deep back within Reggie's neck. "You like my lips that much Reg?" Vinne asked with a tease in his voice, smiling more when see that same expression of bashfulness Vinnie witness when he asked Reggie out in the first place. "Okay, I'm sorry... does...this mean you like me too...?" He asked, hopeful of his words being a positive. Reggie giggles softly, "Of course it means I like you Vinnie... Why else would I agree to go on a date and kiss you?" Vinnie felt stupid asking such a obvious question.  "And...why else would I do this?" After Reggie said that, he guided Vinnie again towards a secret spot. A nice little isolated hill spot overlooking the entire town and beach. Reggie...planned this? The vampire looked at Reggie in disbelief, now noticing the blush fur on his cheeks. "I... I like you too Vinnie... A lot... I've always had felt it too but that day when you risked everything just for me was when I realize it was more then a simple crush... And I wanted to show you how I felt since then...but I was too chicken to even bring it up in conversation... So, when you asked me out, I was nervous that I might miss my shot...so..." "So you ended up setting this up?"  Reggie nodded some, his bangs sweeping over his warm brown eyes in a cute shy manner.

Vinnie smiles softly and wrapped his arms around Reggie's frame, his lips lightly touching a small peck on his cheek. Sure, this wasn't the date I had planned... Reggie giggles and gently sat on the grass, Vinnie following after. The sun was just about going darker as the stars began to appear above them like candles they used to have lit from their old fears of the unknown... Vinnie could help but smile when seeing Reggie's happy face when he cuddles into him.  But I honestly couldn't ask for anything better.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 62 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: The assistant gossip network continued to do its thing, while Courtney lived her best life, Sutan offered Violet some wardrobe assistance, and Bianca planned a coming out.

This Chapter: The Galactica Holiday Party has arrived, and not everyone is prepared...

***

“Remember to find your light!”

Gigi turned her head, trying as hard as she could not to squeeze her eyes shut, the studio lights blinding.

“I said find it, not stare into the sun!”

Gigi blushed and moved her head again, doing her best to try and follow the instructions Sutan kept giving her.

They were in a photo studio in the Bronx, Gigi to get her first pictures for her portfolio taken, while Symone had practiced how to shoot in swimwear, her friend now waiting with her phone for Gigi to finish up.

Gigi had watched Symone move around, completely enthralled by how elegant the other model already was, Sutan barely correcting her.

“Straighten your back!” Gigi did as she was told, a pair of black jeans hugging her body, the long sleeved black shirt she was wearing clinging to her arms.

“Excuse me...” The photographer, who had introduced herself as Widow, looked out from behind her camera, “can I do my job in peace?” Widow smiled even though her tone was clearly sassy, her teeth blindingly white, her black box braids collected in a high bun. She was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans, big red earrings hanging from her ears.

“You know what I hired you for,” Sutan smiled back, and Widow rolled her eyes, making Gigi giggle.

“Yes sir, right away sir,” Widow teased.

“Don’t give the models any ideas with your attitude.” Sutan grinned, his sleeves rolled up around his elbows, refocusing on Gigi who had tried to hold the position he had asked for.

“No, not like, you have to be more.” Sutan moved his shoulders, and Gigi tried to copy it. She knew they were doing this shoot so she could get an idea of what she looked like, so she could train what Sutan called her inner photographer, but it was really difficult.

“No, still not right.” Sutan stepped on the set, getting next to Gigi, the scent of his cologne instantly catching her nose. “Your strength is in your lines Gigi, so you have to stand tall. Use those legs of yours,” He smiled, tapping his own left leg and moving it forward, mirroring what Gigi hoped she was doing. “Try this.”

Gigi moved her leg to copy Sutan, her entire center of balance shifting.

“There we go!” Sutan grinned. “Good job. Now hold it, and find your light.”

***

Violet tried to turn to the side, watching her profile in the big mirror on the back wall of the dressing room.

Her and Sutan had each been swept up by a personal shopper the moment they stepped inside Barney’s, Violet whisked away to the woman's clothes department where everything was outrageously expensive and completely new.

Violet was wearing a beautiful red dress, the hemline just off the floor, her cast barely visible if she stood completely still, which suited her perfectly well.

Violet had every plan to get to the Christmas party, sit down, and then hopefully not move again for the rest of the night, Jovan’s offer of bedazzling her crutches still making her shiver.

“So, what do we think?” Violet’s shopper smiled, the woman standing behind her, her pile of rejected dresses four times the size of the approved ones for the upcoming events, but she couldn’t help being extremely critical, not when everything was so stupidly expensive.

“Well…” Violet looked in the mirror. The dress suited her, even though it didn’t sit snugly at her waist, but that wasn’t something a loose loop stitch couldn’t fix so she could undo it again later and hopefully keep the dress longer. It hadn’t been Violet’s intention to lose weight, and if she was being honest, she had actually expected to gain with a broken foot, but it seemed like that hadn’t been the case, her appetite even worse than usual, her pain killers often making it feel like she had knives stabbing her stomach.

“I’ll take it.”

Violet knew that the dress would be approved by Fame, and loved by Sutan, the low neckline and the opportunity for matching underwear always a treat.

***

“Kat? Are you gonna be okay?” Trixie asked, voice soft.

They were sitting in a little cafe across from her doctor’s office. They’d just gotten the official news - she was pregnant, no doubt about it. She’d put on a transparently false, cheerful face while they were there but barely said two words since they’d left, a croissant and mango smoothie sitting in front of her, untouched.

According to the doctor’s best estimate, she was 14 weeks along, which already limited their options, a fairly invasive procedure now the only way to go if they didn’t want the baby.

She looked at him, blue eyes clear, and said, “I don’t know.”

Trixie nodded, taking her hand in his and holding it lightly. He didn’t want to push her too much, could tell that she was in a fragile state of mind.

“Well...I’m here if there’s anything…Anything I can do.”

“Got a flask on you?” she asked drily, then closed her eyes, immediately chagrined. “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny, babe.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, the two of them sitting side by side, their fingers intertwined.

***

Roxy looked up as Courtney rounded the corner from Miss Fame’s office, flashing her a bright smile. She had just gotten yet another delivery--Roxy was fast becoming BFFs with Greg, the Marie Claire office runner.

“Hey Rox! Whatcha got for me?”

“Hi, Court,” Roxy said, eyeing her suspiciously before handing over the bag, wondering why she was so perky today.

Courtney looked inside the bag and saw what Roxy had already - a large black velvet jewelry box.

“Open it,” Roxy said, and Courtney pulled it out, peeking inside before snapping it closed again. “Come on, you’re not gonna show me?”

A smile pulled at Courtney’s lips, and she leaned forward onto the reception desk, voice low, saying, “You wanna know something?”

“Yes, of course!” Roxy perked up. Was Courtney finally about to admit to her affair with Bianca Del Rio? It was gonna be a hell of a lot easier once she didn’t have to pretend to be in the dark anymore.

“You know how I said that I’ve been...uh...seeing someone who works at Marie Claire?”

“Yeah…you gonna tell me who?”

“Well, no,” she said, and off Roxy’s annoyed scoff, added, “But...we’re coming to the party tonight...together.”

“Oh really?” Roxy’s eyebrows shot up. This actually was pretty decent information, given the potential shit storm it could cause. The drama of Miss Fame’s assistant dating one of her best friends, and them showing up together to a company event? Absolutely delicious.

“Yeah, so...I guess you’ll find out soon enough,” Courtney said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I guess I will,” Roxy agreed, smiling placidly, already typing out a DM to Bob.

***

Fame breathed a sigh of relief as the car pulled up to the hotel she had chosen for the Galactica Christmas Party. The facade was decorated with dripping ice crystals, lights and fake snow making it the winter wonderland she had envisioned. The red carpet had been rolled out, guests already posing for photos and talking to reporters about their clothes, Fame recognizing the signature cameras from E! Network and one of Vogue’s journalists.

She had gotten the confirmation from Shangela that the string quartet had shown up, the musicians hired for the lounge area while the caterers had set up shop in the enchanted forest filled with actual pine trees, the bar carrying a line of gins specifically brewed for the event.

“So,” Patrick lifted an eyebrow, a curious expression on his face. The majority of Fame’s skirt was in her husband's lap since she refused to let the silk anywhere near the bottom of the car. “how are we feeling?”

“Me?” Fame smiled, leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek “Quite content.”

***

“Are you sure I can’t talk you into walking the carpet?”

Sutan looked over at Violet, the two of them on the bottom of the steps leading up to the hotel, Raja and Raven already halfway inside. Raja was in a tight-fitting emerald green suit with a deep cleavage, her hair twisted into a gorgeous updo, while Raven was dressed in a floor length gown in matching green, the two of them looking absolutely stunning together.

“Yes.” The message was clear, and Sutan could feel the tiniest curl of irritation in his stomach. Violet was beyond beautiful, her usually pink nails carefully painted the same red shade as her dress, a tiny purse slung over her shoulders, her black hair curled and spilling over her shoulders and back, her posture perfect even though she was leaning on her crutch, only one of them allowed to come along.

He wanted those pictures of them together, even if it was selfish.

“Lovely eyes-”

“I said no.” Violet’s tone left no room for argument, and Sutan pressed his lips together, taking a deep breath through his nose not to let his irritation win out.

“Sutan,” Violet reached out, gently touching his arm. “This isn’t a you issue, it’s a me issue. I’d love to go up there and be on your arm like a dainty little princess or trophy-”

“What?” Sutan raised an eyebrow. He had never thought of Violet as a princess, or even dainty, the muscles he knew she had and the iron will he had seen her possess over and over again so much more attractive than any trophy girlfriend could be. “That’s not what-”

“I know,” Violet squeezed, underlining her words, “But I’d honestly rather jump into traffic than talk to a single one of those reporters, and risk showing up in any of their publications.”

Sutan snorted, Violet’s dark sense of humor as always getting to him. He knew it also had to do with her relationship to her family, Violet’s choked hospital confession still rumbling around in his head, what little he had managed to piece together telling its clear story of a gossip magazine-obsessed mother, his girlfriend posing for his own mothers old canon camera at Thanksgiving without any issues.

“Okay, but promise me,” Sutan took a step, bringing them closer, his hand finding it’s now familiar place on Violet’s waist, “that I can get one soon.”

“A photo?” Violet raised an eyebrow, their hips almost touching, her free hand on his chest.

“Mmh, just for the two of us.”

“I’ll consider it,” Violet smiled, her fingers gently rearranging his tie, making sure it was sitting completely straight. “If you promise me that we can get a cab home.”

“A cab?” They had arrived with Raja and Raven, a driver coming back to pick all four of them up at the end of the night, “Why?”

“Because you, Mr. Amrull, look fucking fantastic tonight,” Violet looked up at him, a smirk on her lips, “and I wanna make out in the backseat.”

*

“You ready?” Bianca asked, looking over at Courtney as their car pulled up to the curb.

Courtney glanced outside, where a crowd of photographers and reporters were gathered, stomach seizing with the reality of what she was about to do, wondering if it was a mistake. Even walking the carpet with Bianca instead of taking the normal entrance with the rest of the support staff suddenly seemed audacious.

“No,” she admitted, looking back at Bianca apologetically. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Would it help if I told you how absolutely gorgeous you look?” Bianca asked, reaching out to take her hand.

Her outfit for the night was probably the most conservative of all the dresses Dan had pulled for her - a black dress--low cut, but not in a slutty way with a little bow at the front and full circle skirt, paired with a pair of Bianca’s beautiful multicolored Louboutins and simple, classy jewelry--including a glamorous strand of pink pearls that Bianca had sent over earlier in the day.

In spite of her nerves, Courtney couldn’t help but smile a little at the compliment, proud of the care she’d taken with her hair and makeup, hoping to make Bianca proud. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and responded with a cheeky, “Look who’s talking…”

Bianca grinned, and Courtney was once again struck by how fantastic she looked, in a red silk organza cocktail dress, the floaty feminine fabric accentuating her curves perfectly, a deep v-neck giving the perfect peek at her cleavage.

“What if we just stayed in the car for awhile?” Courtney suggested, fluttering her lashes.

“I promise to make it worth your while later, angel.” Bianca squeezed her hand, pulling her in close. “But right now, I’m pretty excited to show you off. So whaddaya say?”

Courtney took a deep breath, the churning in her stomach now a combination of nerves and excitement.

“Okay.”

Bianca signalled to the driver, who quickly got out and walked around to open their door.

“Here we go…” Bianca gave her hand one final squeeze and got out, giving the flashing cameras a polite wave before reaching back in to help her out.

Courtney’s mind was a mess. She suddenly had so many concurrent anxieties, like tripping on the carpet, or being dragged to filth by come gossip rag, or, given how lightheaded she now felt, fainting, here in front of all these people. She tried to steady herself, and Bianca’s arm slid securely around her waist.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry. You look amazing,” Bianca murmured in her ear.

Bianca led her down the carpet--a true professional, posing and smiling, calmly directing Courtney so that she knew where to stand and where to look, chatting jovially with reporters.

“Who’s your date, Bianca?” one of them asked boldly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” Bianca joked back. They’d discussed this ahead of time - better to keep Courtney’s name out of things for the moment, given her job title. Courtney understood, and agreed, and was even a bit relieved. For now, on gossip sites and fashion blogs, she’d just be ‘BDR’s latest blonde,’ and she was very much okay with that. After all, the people that mattered to both of them would know, and that’s what she cared about.

“Well, is it serious?” another piped up.

“You tell me,” Bianca said, and then Courtney really thought she might faint, Bianca pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek as about a billion flashbulbs went off in their faces, murmuring, “You’re doing perfectly, angel.”

She turned to Bianca, gazing at her with breathless admiration, feeling like the luckiest girl in the entire world. And then she took Bianca’s face in her hands and impulsively kissed her, right on the mouth, soft but sure. So what if it was only a fling? Courtney didn’t care anymore--she would remember this high for the rest of her life.

Bianca smiled against her mouth and whispered, “Well, that’ll make headlines...”

“Oops,” Courtney whispered back, both of them giggling.

They broke apart, matching grins on their faces as they looked into each other’s eyes, until Bianca turned back to the sea of paparazzi, now in a frenzy, shouting out questions too fast for Courtney to even process the words.

“That’s enough for you demons!” Bianca called, gently pulling Courtney up the steps, giving one last smiling wave at the top, Courtney’s hand still clasped in hers.

*

“Are you done?”

“Nope!”

Raja hid her grin, her shoulder touching Raven’s as they posed for the camera, her fiancée radiating excitement as she chatted and flirted with the photographers.

Raven had always adored the camera, and if there was a journalist behind it, she was practically in love, getting caught by the paparazzi a treat for her each and every time it happened.

Raja didn’t feel the same thrill, didn’t care as much about showing up in gossip magazines and websites since she had gotten more than enough of that in her youth, but she couldn’t be truly upset when it generated so many great pictures, Raven often looking sexy as sin when she got caught leaving the gym.

“Raja! Over here!”

Raja turned her head, the photographer catching her attention, and that was when she saw them, Bianca coming up a little ways behind her.

Seeing Bianca on a red carpet wasn’t strange, but what was frankly bizarre was the familiar blonde at her side.

Raja had expected Fame’s assistant to be somewhere in the crowd, since it was a company party and a big treat for the staff, but what the fuck was she doing on the red carpet? The support staff was supposed to enter the party through the normal pedestrian entrance.

And then, Bianca put her arm around Courtney’s waist, kissing her cheek as she giggled girlishly.

Oh, fuck.

This was not good. Frankly, Raja wasn’t shocked that Bianca had been messing with Courtney, her behavior at the meeting last week making it painfully obvious that she liked her. But this, this was next level.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any more embarrassing, Raja witnessed something that made her blood run cold. Courtney grasped Bianca’s face in her hands and kissed her on the lips, causing absolute chaos from the group of paparazzi around them.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” Raven looked up at her, a concerned and confused expression on her beautiful face.

“Wait here.” Raja released Raven, leaving her behind on the carpet, prepared to ambush Bianca the second she got to the doors.

Bianca had done a lot of stupid shit over the years - they all had - and dating bimbos wasn’t a new thing for her, but making out with Fame’s assistant in front of the paparazzi?

That was a new level of braindead, even for her, and Raja had to stop it right now.

*

The moment Bianca stepped off the carpet, she felt someone grab her arm and roughly yank her into the lobby.

“Bianca!” Raja hissed, pulling at her arm. “Come here!”

“Ow!” Bianca laughed at Raja. “Let go of me, you fucking mountain gorilla!”

Just because the woman towered over her was no reason to be intimidated, and it was gonna take a hell of a lot more to bring her down at the moment than Raja looking at her like she was insane.

Beside her, Courtney let out a small gasp, and Raja tried to recover, putting an arm around Bianca’s shoulder and giving Courtney the most sugary-sweet, fakest voice she could manage to say, “Hey there Court, can you give us a minute? I have to chat with Bianca about something important. Great shoes, by the way.”

“Oh...yeah, alright. Um…” Courtney backed away, trying to give them some space. “I’ll just wait over here, then-”

“Perfect!” Raja dragged Bianca to the other end of the lobby, away from any reporters.

“This oughta be good,” Bianca grumbled, though she was still too hyped from the carpet to manage to be truly annoyed.

“What,” Raja pushed Bianca into a corner, inches from her face, her voice filled with venom though her eyes betrayed her geniune concern, “the actual fuck do you think you’re doing, Bianca?!”

“Wanna be more specific?” Bianca asked, tilting her head, an impish smile on her face.

"It's bad enough that you're fucking Fame's assistant, but to parade her around on the red carpet? Without even bothering to give us a heads-up? Are you insane?" Raja’s teeth were clenched, clearly trying to keep her voice down.

"Please. Our relationship has nothing to do with-"

"Relationship? Are you actually calling this a relationship?"

"Yes!" Now, Bianca was starting to get annoyed. Who the fuck did Raja think she was talking to?

"Oy, this is so much worse than I thought,” Raja groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please don't tell me this is why you bailed on the tasting menu."

"So what if I did?"

"Oh god."

"Fuck you!"

"And what did you expect to happen, Bianca? What's your great master plan with this childish stunt?"

“Well...to be honest, I didn’t know she was gonna kiss me on the carpet,” Bianca admitted, a giggle slipping from her lips. “It was kinda cute, did you see?”

“I...am going to slap you.”

“Come on, Raj. I did give this whole thing a little thought.”

“Really? It doesn’t fucking seem like it!”

“Well, I have. Look, I know she’s gonna be pissed, but I also know she’s not gonna cause a scene in the middle of the party. And then after tonight, she’s got almost a full week to cool off before she has to see me again,” Bianca said, punctuating her statement with a charming smile. Bianca was no idiot. Of course she knew that Fame would be irritated, maybe even angry, but she figured that this was a situation where it would be easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. And besides, if she had to endure her friend’s wrath for awhile in exchange for being free to put her relationship with Courtney out into the open, then so be it.

“That’s what you think will happen?” Raja huffed. “Bianca, please, Fame hasn’t seen you guys yet. If we get Courtney out the back door, we can make an alliance with Patrick to get Fame drunk and unplug the wifi tomorrow so she doesn’t go online. It’ll be like it never happened, and we'll never speak of it again.”

“Raj, listen. I know this might be a real clusterfuck, but I’m willing to accept the consequences.”

“Oh jesus help me.” Raja groaned. “I hope she’s worth it, Bianca.” She pulled away, shaking her head. “I really hope she’s worth it.”

As she walked away, Bianca took a deep breath, looking back across the lobby at Courtney, who was doing a terrible job of trying to look casual, the anxiety on her face clear as day. Bianca sent her a big smile, reaching out a hand, and Courtney rushed toward her.

“Was she mad?” she asked, brows creased with worry.

Bianca cupped her face lightly, stroking her cheek, and promised, “Not at you.”

“Okay.” Courtney bit her lip, and Bianca leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the ballroom.

“Yeah...in a minute…” Courtney said, immediately adding, “I’m sorry.”

“Take your time, angel. There’s no rush,” Bianca promised. “In fact, if you’d rather get out of here and go somewhere else-”

“No, no, no…” Courtney laughed, taking her hand. “I’m fine. Let’s go in.”

[captainrexisboo]

In A Single Night Chp 2

Here it is ❤️❤️❤️ Link to Previous Chapter (in case you missed it)

I’m not gonna say anything about it, except no warnings apply ✨

Tag list in the replies, please let me know if you would like to be tagged, and All Comments Are Welcome!!! Enjoy my lads, ladies, and lovers!!!

Edit: link to chp3 🥰

You banged on the thick, almost black oak door, knowing he was awake despite the hour, “Commander! Commander, please, open up, we need to-”

“Y/N!” he hisses through grit teeth as he swings open the door, still fully clothed as you expected in the same white uniform Rex was donning earlier that night, with deep bags under his eyes and dark curls sticking up, out of their usual well-kept place from running his fingers through it too many times, “The Captain isn’t here, so please, my dearest liege, if you could keep it down-”

“Of course Rex isn’t here, Cody, he’s out galavanting in the woods without a thing to cover his backside except blasted blond fur,” you seethed as you pushed through into the dim candlelit office, your now-tattered cloak trailing behind you, “How long has your brother been a werewolf?”

He stared at you, brows furrowed and lips pulled into a tight grimace as if you had sprouted two heads. His gaze switched from you to glare defeatedly at the full moon that hung outside his window, illuminating the room even more than the candles. He shook his head, stiffening his back as he brought up two fingers to rub at his scarred brow, “My...he...walk me through this. What happened?”

You shuffled on your feet, clenching and unclenching your fists as you cleared your throat, “Rex...wanted to see me tonight. During patrol. And before I could reach him, he…”

Good lords, you sounded mad. You bit your lip as you stopped talking, not finding it in you to continue, tearing your gaze off the floor to look up into Cody’s signature deadpan expression, as if you could project into his mind exactly what you had seen. He stood straight, hands folded behind him, tired eyes still actively surveying your form, precise and calculating. At your extended pause and fidgeting shoulders, he clicked his tongue, “You know, canoodling with any soldier, regardless of rank, isn’t allowed while they’re on duty, your grace.”

“Cody!” you whined, stepping up to him to place your hands on his shoulders, “This isn’t about that! It’s about Rex! He turned into a-”

“I know,” Cody sighed, gently taking hold of your wrists and pulling them off of him, “I had suspected this, I was going to prepare for it, but-”

He groaned gruffly, letting go of a wrist to scrub a hand over his face and covering an obscene yawn, “I guess I lost track of the moon cycle.”

You could only stand there, mouth agape. You pulled your other wrist away, a bewildered scoff exhaling from you, “You knew!?”

He nodded, his exhausted demeanor making his stoic expression all the more bored, as if this was just another debriefing of the low level muggings that took place over the weekend.

“Why didn’t either of you say anything!”

“What makes you think he knew?”

You paused, the question putting you through such a loop you momentarily forgot you were in hysterics. You shook your head, furrowing your brows low as you groaned, “Well why wouldn’t he know?”

“Well, this is a quite a recent development-”

“Commander!” you couldn’t stand the idle chatter that he seemed intent on keeping, “I would love to be casual and catch up some other time, but right now your brother, my love, our Captain is out there somewhere, going crazy with bloodlust-”

“As opposed to what other type of lust?”

“Cody!” you screeched, not bothering if the entire castle heard you two bickering at this point. The infuriating smirk he wore made you want to tear your hair out. You stamped your foot and pointed to the blanket of tall, thick trees that stretched across the starlit landscape outside his office window, “You need to go out there, right now, find your brother, and throw his clothes at him!”

You never thought you’d see the day that Commander Cody Fett, of the Republic Aegis, laughed. Not his normal, brief, smug chuckle that made all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes go weak in the knees and swoon under his cool facade. No, this laugh was deep, and building, he was taking large breaths in between, clutching at his diaphragm, until he was howling not unlike his brother, barely an hour ago. 

It made you furious.

You ground your molars, tightening your fists, nearly twitching with your anger. You could feel your cheek stitch up as your eyes narrowed, a thrumming growl coming from the back of your throat. You let out a huff, hands flying up to the dark metal clasp of your cloak, a beautiful thick charcoal wool with royal blue velvet on the bottom hem. It was a gift from Rex about a year ago, after coming home from a diplomatic visit, and it immediately became your favorite thing to wear. You kept it clean, and stored it safely in the warmer months- now it was dirt smeared, ripped in odd places from falling onto scraggly rock, and torn from where his claws had pierced next to your head...and you were noticing now, his back claws had pierced the fabric that had bunched around your knees as well when he had you pinned underneath him. 

As you were inspecting your cloak with puffy red eyes, Cody was coming down from his bout of hysterics. You could hear his weakening breath, and you held out the cloak, not wanting to meet the taunt you were sure he held in his stare, “He attacked me. Pinned me to the road before running off…”

Cody grunted low, clearing his throat of the remaining bit of humor as he took the thick, warm material in his hands. He breathed deeply as his fingers traced the irregular tears, blinking heavily as he squeezed the bridge of his nose, coming down from madness as he looked back up at you. You refused to look at him, but his tone was surprisingly somber, “Look, I’m sorry, truly. As you can imagine, I’m very tired...you walk in here telling me my brother is a werewolf, and that the solution is to throw clothes at him? Where did you even hear such a thing?”

You finally looked up at him, expecting more brutish teasing, but instead finding a morbid, genuine curiosity. You clenched your jaw, taking a shuddering breath, “My grandmere...she lost her suitor to the soul of the beast. I didn’t really think about it before, but it makes sense now.”

Your eyes stung with the realization, voice choking with emotion, but no tears were able to fall. You looked at Cody, he was leaning against his desk, cloak folded beside him and listening intently. His eyes were focused on you as he folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head towards you in a silent request to continue. You cleared your throat of emotion, speaking low, “She was already with child at the time, my mother- his daughter, but… only the purest love can change the wolf back to a human. Giving them clothes, leading them back to a warm bed. Well, it turns out he didn’t love my grandmother like she thought. He attacked her, giving her claw marks down her shoulder and over her chest. The only reason she lived was because her father and his hunting party followed her with their rifles, driving away the monster.” 

You paused, a quaking breath wracking through you. Your throat was tight, and you were starting to get dizzy from the irregular breathing, “She lived in heartache for the rest of her days, the scar a reminder she wasn’t enough. Whatever love she thought she had was an illusion- he was only marrying her out of a sense of duty to the child he sired. I’m obviously not pregnant, Cody, I don’t even have that delusion to give me strength-”

“You want me to go out there instead of you,” Cody interrupted, piecing together your last bit of thought for you so you could focus on your breathing, “Because you’re unsure of his love towards you?”

You nodded, choking back dry, sobbing breaths, “I mean. What’s more pure love than the bond between brothers? He hasn’t even asked for my hand yet.”

“If you weren’t in the middle of a panic attack, I’d start laughing again,” Cody sighed heavy. You opened your mouth about to scold him again, when he held up a hand, “I knew he was asking you to meet with him tonight. He’s been hounding me all damn week for my opinions on ‘Will Y/N prefer this coat on me, or my cape? What time of day should it be? Does this sound okay as an opener?’ on and on and on- meanwhile there’s a war about to brew if Skywalker can’t sit still for a moment, Kenobi’s insistent on visiting with daily tea no matter how much I have on my plate, I have troops to train, and I had to research on  how to keep Rex’s wolf in check- and you know how well that faired- don’t even get me started on the pot that Sir Palpatine is intent on stirring-“

“Commander.”

He looked to you, snapped out from his exhausted ramblings at your clipped tone. You waved your wrist loosely, asking him to get to the damned point already. He coughed lightly, “Ah, right.”

He stood straight again, wrapping his hands behind his back and clearing his throat, “Your graciousness Y/N L/N of the Established Republic, Captain Rex Fett of the Republic Aegis was planning, tonight, to ask for your hand in marriage. Under the light of the full moon, ‘because the atmosphere would be just perfect’-”

You tuned out right as the word marriage was spoken. Cody’s voice rang clear in your head, the word turning itself over and over in your mind.

Your love. Your dearest Captain. Him. Rex. He was going to propose tonight. Tonight was supposed to be wonderful, given celebration, filled with purely blissful feelings and warmth- he would’ve proposed tonight. You would’ve stolen him away from his “break on patrol” and taken him back to your quarters for proper celebration, expected protocol be damned. You were supposed to be in the arms of your love right now, letting each other’s heartbeats lull each other to sleep as you shared lazy kisses of simple adoration, but instead you were listening to his sleep deprived twin wail on and on about something or other that didn’t really matter right now because he would’ve proposed.

But instead. He attacked you with gnashing fangs and a snarling maw. He held you beneath him, claws spearing the rock by your head, intent on having his slaughterous way with your flesh-

But instead. You whispered his name. A broken plea. A pathetic whimper… and he heard you. He listened. He threw himself off of you and didn’t look back. It wasn’t the beast- Rex had heard you.

Your love was still in there. 

And you were going to be the one to free him.

[a-blue-secret]

CHAPTER XIII

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter XII | Chapter XIII | Chapter XIV

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 4.8k+

AN: Beomgyu's been a bit ia these past few chapters, but here he is! Fun fact: all of his outfits mentioned are real! 1st one is from 191116, 2nd the iconic 200104, and 3rd from the unforgettable 190801 :)

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

"Ah finally, I'm free!" Beomgyu cried aloud, flinging his arms out wide. "I'm free!" He spun around, skipping down the lane happily.

Seojung and Jisung followed behind silently, watching as the King skipped through the grasses, long coat flapping behind him.

"Sir, we are here to see your house and nothing more."

Beomgyu waved a hand carelessly back at Jisung. "Yes yes, I know that. I only really want to see my house."

The two guards looked at each other. Beomgyu laughed delightedly, stopping to reach up and smell a branch of cherry blossoms. He rushed forward excitedly, and motioned towards the guards to hurry up.

"Come on! Around this corner we can see the back of my house!" He gave a small giggle and disappeared around the corner.

Seojung and Jisung couldn't help but smile at Beomgyu's antics, following him from behind.

Beomgyu had snuck out (well, not exactly snuck out– just left without telling anyone) of the palace to see his house that he'd left behind. Since the tension between the court and the citizens was still present, he and his guards had taken a carriage up to a certain point, and walked the rest of the way down an abandoned country lane. It was alright for Beomgyu, though: he liked the time outside surrounded by nature. Standing in the middle of a field, breathing in the fresh air (and maybe making a pensive wind swirl around him, coat whipping majestically – he can't help his flair for dramatic scenes, even if no one is around to witness them) was wonderful.

Beomgyu stood outside his front door, heels clicking together cheerfully. He flourished the house key he’d taken with him from his chambers back at the palace, and slotted it inside the keyhole. Pushing open the door, Beomgyu let out a sigh of happiness as he stepped into the familiar hallway.

“Long time no see, eh?” he smiled to himself, taking in the details.

The cottage had barely changed. Beomgyu rushed into the front room, and beamed as he took in the ivory curtains, round glasses resting on a side table next to a half-filled cup of tea, and the comfortable velvet armchair which was always stuffed with too many cushions. Peering into the dining room, he smiled as he saw a dinner mat was still set at the table, an empty glass by its side. The kitchen still had clean plates stacked up by the sink, waiting to be put away. He walked into the living room, running his fingers along the dusty bookshelves, packed with novels and biographies which he’d leafed through millions of times. He rubbed a hand over the worn leather of the sofa, rested his cheek on his softest cushion, breathed in the comforting scent of his humble cottage. He sat back into the sofa, smiling contentedly up at the plain white ceiling.

“This. I’ve missed this.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Beomgyu hummed as he put the plates back into the cupboard. He’d just finished dusting the cottage from top to bottom, and had just tidied away the teacup and plates. Walking back to the living room, he scanned all the titles on his bookshelf absentmindedly.

“Ooh-” he gently dislodged a book, looking at the title. Beomgyu chuckled to himself. “Looks like I stole this from the palace. This is one of the books that the scholars use to teach us about clans.” He opened the book and began flipping through the pages. “Oh wait- it looks like there are pages missing?”

Beomgyu ran his fingers along the jagged edges between two pages, which indicated that some had been torn out. “That wasn’t me… I wonder who took them out.” He shrugged, putting the book back. “Oh well. It’s no big deal.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Inside his room, Beomgyu was going through his wardrobe.

“Oh, Choi Beomgyu, what were you thinking?” Beomgyu tutted, staring at one of his old suits. It was a beige blazer with pale blue accents, paired with a pale blue button-down and a navy and brown tie. He twisted his lips disapprovingly. “I suppose it doesn’t look too bad, but the colours just don’t go together! Bleh. I’d never wear something like this now.” He put down the offending suit, tucking it far away into the corner of his wardrobe.

“Oh, I remember wearing this,” Beomgyu smiled as he pulled out another outfit. This one was a pure white button-down with white pants and a silky cloak-like overcoat. The cloak came up to his hip and had white fur trim along the hood and top half. It even had a diamond clasp. “Wait, do I still have the wand to go with this?” He set down the clothes, and rummaged around his drawers, before pulling out a silver stick. “Aha! I do!” He laughed, setting down the ‘wand’ beside the outfit. “Wow, I didn’t even know I kept the outfit from that Christmas party. I might take it with me to the palace: it’s nice.”

Beomgyu came out of his room and yelled down the stairs. “Seojung, Jisung! I’m gonna leave some clothes by this door! Come back here some other time with the carriage and bring them to the palace, okay?” Then he retreated into his room to look through more of his clothes.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

“Wow, this is nice.” Carefully, Beomgyu extracted the delicate piece of clothing from its protective cloth, staring at it. It was a black button-up, stitched with white and silver stars. It still had its cufflinks in as well: five-pointed diamante stars. The design was simple. When Beomgyu twisted the shirt, the silver stitching caught the light, making it sparkle. “When did I wear this?” The faint smile on the corner of his lips died as he remembered. “Oh. Jieon’s… Jieon’s funeral.” He carefully put the button-up back into its protective cloth, putting it back in his wardrobe.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel too into looking through his closet anymore. Beomgyu put back all the suits he’d taken out and opened the door again.

“Let’s go back.”

As he was stepping outside, Beomgyu noticed that the ground was rather damp. He looked back at the guards. “Did it rain?”

Both of them nodded silently. Beomgyu groaned.

“Oh no, this means we can’t go back down the way we came! The mud will ruin my shoes!” Beomgyu sighed. “Come on, we’ll have to go through the town way.”

“I- sir, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Beomgyu pursed his lips stubbornly. “I am not getting these shoes dirty.”

The two guards shared a glance.

“Very well,” Jisung said. “But it’ll be more difficult to get to the carriage.”

Beomgyu pfft-ed, waving a hand. “It can’t be that difficult. The carriage is in a place that’s easy to get to. We’ll be fine. Now, come on!”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

He wandered out into a more bustling street. As he was constantly pushed aside by hassled citizens, Beomgyu reflected that maybe walking was a bad idea. At least no one was really paying attention to him…

He was just wondering how far he had left to go to get to the carriage, when he realised that his guards had disappeared. He spun round, searching for Seojung and the other guy. Nowhere to be found. Frowning, he stood up on tiptoe, straining to look for any sight of them. He was all alone. In a strange street.

It was then that a chill crept over him. It was inexplainable: it was so terrifying and yet compelling at the same time. The feeling kept building up, causing him to feel colder, and colder, and he started to shake. Suddenly, a finger tapped his shoulder. Beomgyu spun around, panicked, and almost ran into a noble who stood right behind him. Looking up from the blue satin coat in front of him, Beomgyu relaxed. It was a noble he recognised- Lord Soobin.

Soobin widened his brown eyes and bowed. "Lord Beom- Your Greatness! What are you doing around here?"

"Oh, uh… just wanted to see how my citizens are doing!" he said brightly. "In a bit of an incognito, get-into-the-scene kind of way."

"Ah, I see," Soobin said, nodding. He watched as Beomgyu glanced around a few times, picking up on how distracted the royal was. "Um… don’t take this the wrong way, but… would you happen to be lost?"

Beomgyu chuckled awkwardly. "I think I may be," he said. "I seem to have lost my guards." He looked around again. "Yep. Definitely lost them."

"Well, it is not right for a monarch to be left undefended," Soobin said. "Would it suit you to perhaps take refuge in my home? I can send word to the palace that you are there, and then you can wait in my home until more guards arrive to take you back to court."

"Oh, if that's alright with you?" Beomgyu asked. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Oh, it's no intrusion if the King himself were to enter my humble abode," Soobin laughed. "My carriage is just a few streets away. Would you care to come?" Beomgyu scanned the streets again, in case his guards miraculously appeared.

"I gladly accept your offer," Beomgyu said, when it was clear that Seojung and Jisung were not there.

"Right this way, Your Greatness."

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Once the carriage pulled up into the gravel drive of Soobin's estate, the coachman opened the door for them before hurrying up to the front door to inform the butler to let Soobin in.

When the butler let them inside, Beomgyu whistled.

"'Humble abode'? Soobin, this is an extravagant abode. My, some of these decorations rival that of those in the palace."

Soobin chuckled. "Many thanks, Your Greatness. I have always had a taste for grandeur."

Beomgyu eyed the ceiling, which had elegant swirls engraved into its stone. He caught sight of the golden chandelier, which also had intricate designs along it's candelabras. "Evidently," he murmured. "How do you… how…"

"How can I afford this?" Soobin supplied. He carried on talking as they followed a footman into one of the tea rooms. "My family has a great inheritance. Also, I make money by creating flowers. If you look out of that window, you can see one of my greenhouses out in the garden."

Beomgyu leaned over, staring at the glass building. "Wow," he said. "I suppose one-of-a-kind flowers fetch a high price?"

"Indeed they do," Soobin said. "Tea or coffee?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," Beomgyu said, waving away the attendant. He stared out of the window silently as Soobin calmly sipped his cup of tea. Soobin’s home was so pristine and perfect. It was like it was carved out of pure white marble, painted with the most lustrous gold, decorated with only the finest and most intricate hand. It was almost as if Soobin was the King with the lavish palace, and Beomgyu was the humble noble that had been invited for tea. Beomgyu couldn’t help but marvel at how wondrous it all was.

“Ah, yes,” Soobin said, setting down his cup. He beckoned over one of the footmen who stood outside the door to the room. “Send word to the palace that King Beomgyu is currently safe within my estate. Tell them to bring guards to Lord Soobin’s manor to come find the King.” The footman nodded, before scurrying off. The two of them sat in silence. Beomgyu glanced at the lord. He knew Soobin well enough; the two of them had been acquaintances when Beomgyu was still in court. Beomgyu, because of his faintly royal status, had been a higher noble than practically everyone else, so he’d talked to all of the lords before. Lord Soobin was a rank below him, so they had been reasonably amiable associates. However, he didn’t know the elder well enough to know which clan he came from, or even what his surname was.

“So…” Beomgyu tried, in an attempt to break the silence. “Um… How does it feel having such a young King as your monarch?”

Soobin looked at him. “Hm… well, at first it was a little odd. Everyone found it a little odd. We were expecting one of the Kangs to take the throne, after all, and yet it turned out to be a whole new clan. But if you think about it, had everything gone as the late King Seohu had planned, we would have had an eight year old on the throne.” Soobin leaned back, chuckling. “Now that would be even more odd than having a King who is a mere year younger than me.”

Beomgyu cracked a small grin. “I suppose it would be.” He frowned a little, thinking about the day. Remembering the sense of betrayal and anger he’d felt towards Taehyun. He remembered how his fury seemed to crackle within him. He also remembered the pure fear in Taehyun’s eyes when he growled at him after the Crown Handing. He deserved it, Beomgyu thought fiercely. He deserved all those harsh words, after everything he’s put me through.

Soobin suddenly laid his hand on top of Beomgyu’s where it rested on the table. He seemed to have mistook Beomgyu’s silence as being a troubled one. “It’s okay,” he said. “There is no need to worry. It’s why you made Kang Taehyun your vizier, isn’t it? His knowledge is incredible. He will help you navigate through your reign in the steadiest, smoothest way possible.”

“Thank you,” Beomgyu said, smiling weakly.

“Ah!” Soobin pushed a delicate ceramic plate of cakes towards Beomgyu. “Would you care to try some? They are infused with the essence of my very own flowers.”

Beomgyu looked at the small golden sponges. Each of them had gentle, purple-blue bruises of what must have been the flower essence. He was just about to reply when the footman knocked on the doorframe.

“Sir,” the man panted, bowing at Soobin and then Beomgyu. “The– the guards are here to take the King back to the palace.”

“Thank you,” Soobin said. “Well! It was nice finally talking to you again, Beomgyu. Ah, I mean Your Greatness. Gosh, it seems like only yesterday you were simply Lord Beomgyu. Oh, would you care to take the cakes back to the palace to try? It seems a shame to let them go to waste.”

Beomgyu felt there was no other answer he could give. “Of course, Lord Soobin. If you wouldn’t mind packaging them so they are fit for travel?”

A servant immediately stepped forward, taking the plate and putting it within a small basket, before bowing low and handing it to Beomgyu. He took it, and turned to Soobin.

“Well, I suppose I will be going then,” he said. “It was nice conversing with you, Lord Soobin. Thank you for briefly accommodating me as well.”

Soobin inclined his head. “It was my pleasure.”

Beomgyu stepped out of Soobin’s estate, walking up to a glowering Chan.

“Oh, so you’re coming to collect me?” Beomgyu asked curiously. “Where are Seojung and Jisung?”

Chan still continued to glare at Beomgyu.

“What?” he said. He spread his arms wide and gave a spin, showing his unharmed self from all angles. “Look, I’m not hurt. Nothing happened to me.”

Chan eyed him suspiciously. “Last time you said that, you’d managed to stab yourself in the finger,” he said. “Remember?”

Beomgyu sighed. “Are you really going to bring that up every day for the rest of my life? I told you, the knife fell. It wasn’t my fault.”

“Sure it wasn’t. And I am going to mention it every day, because this happened literally two days after you made me your personal guard.”

“I made you my personal guard because you were the only one out of all of them who I knew, and Taehyun made me choose someone. Also because you were like the most skilled out of all of them. But anyway, I promise that nothing went bad. I’m not injured. I didn’t accidentally fall on my own sword, and Soobin didn’t forcefeed me any poison. Seriously, this trip went fine.”

“If you say so, sire.”

“Yes, I do say so. Come on, let’s go back. Did you bring a carriage with you?”

.・゜-: ✧ :-

“Sir Taehyun, one of King Beomgyu’s guards are here to see you.”

Taehyun opened his door. “Oh Jisung. What’s Beomgyu done now?”

“Disappeared,” Jisung managed to force out, out of breath. “He- King Beomgyu- disappeared- there one minute- gone the next- we looked but- the King- gone-”

“Woah, catch your breath first,” Taehyun interrupted. “I can’t understand anything you’re saying.”

“King Beomgyu vanished. He- he wanted to see his old cottage,” Jisung panted. “When we were coming back, it had been raining and he didn’t want his shoes to get dirty by going on the obscure, mud path we’d taken, so we went through the town. And he- he disappeared. Uh, Sir Taehyun-?”

Taehyun’s eyes had grown wide in alarm and he’d stood up, running out of his room. Jisung hurried to catch up with him.

“Keep talking!” Taehyun called back to the guard. “How did he go missing?”

“I- I don’t know! It was a busy crowd, but the King- he’s taller than average so we could still see him. But su- suddenly he wasn’t there. In the literal blink of an eye, he’d dis- disappeared. It didn’t make sense!”

Taehyun let out a frustrated cry. “That stupid Beomgyu! Why would he go out?”

“Sir- Sir Taehyun? Where are you going?”

“My horse!” Taehyun yelled over his shoulder to Jisung. “I need to go find him!”

“Sir!” A messenger almost ran into Taehyun.

“Not now!” Taehyun brushed past the messenger. “I’m busy!”

The messenger stared helplessly as Taehyun ran past him. Then, he saw Jisung approach and turned to the guard. “Sir! I am a messenger from Lord Soobin’s estate! His Highness, King Beomgyu, is safe within Lord Soobin’s home. He requests someone to be sent to come escort the King back to the palace.”

Jisung widened his eyes and thanked the messenger, before renewing his chase after the vizier.

“Sir Taehyun!” he cried.

“What is it? Jisung I told you, I’m busy!”

“Beomgyu’s safe! He’s in Lord Soobin’s estate!”

“What?” Taehyun yelled. He’d turned the corner and almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “What did you say?”

“Lord Soobin! Beomgyu’s with him!”

In his frazzled, panicked state, it took a while for Taehyun to register the guard’s words, but once he did, he visibly calmed. “Lord Soobin? He should be safe.” Almost instantly, his face darkened again. “Why the fuck he thought it’d be a good idea to step foot outside the palace, I have no idea…” He looked back at Jisung, who was still running up to Taehyun. He clicked his fingers at the guard. “Fetch Chan! Tell him to go to Lord Soobin’s estate to pick up King Beomgyu!”

Seamlessly, Jisung spun around on one foot and began sprinting back the way he’d come, going to inform Beomgyu’s other personal guard.

Taehyun watched Jisung retreat, and began storming to the front gates. Beomgyu had a lot to answer for.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

As the carriage drew up to the palace gates, Beomgyu’s stomach dropped. Shit. Taehyun was standing on the steps, arms crossed.

Beomgyu opened the door and stepped out onto the pebbled driveway, walking up to the vizier. Taehyun glowered at him.

“Just what,” he said, “just what do you think you were doing?”

Beomgyu sighed. For some reason he felt inexplicably weary. “Look, it’s not my fault I lost them okay? They should have protected me better.”

Taehyun’s fingernails dug into his arm. “How can you lose two guards? Just how? How is that even possible? They’re trained to be able to follow you no matter what. How can you lose them?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Beomgyu said, annoyed. Suddenly, all the tension dropped from his face and he rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Fine. I’m sorry. I should have been more responsible. But can we just… can we not do this? I don’t have the strength to.”

Indeed, now that Taehyun looked closer, Beomgyu didn’t look too great. It was practically the first time he’d seen Beomgyu in three weeks, and the King certainly did look rather tired and wan. And so, Taehyun relented. “Alright. But there’s something we need to talk about. Come on.”

Beomgyu gestured weakly. “Can I at least wash first?”

Taehyun looked at him. “Go on. I’ll be in the Meeting Hall.”

While the vizier strode away, back ramrod straight, Beomgyu slumped up the steps to the palace. Visiting his cottage had taken an emotional toll on him, a toll which was even more tiring than a physical one. Still, he dragged himself through the palace, wanting to get that meeting with Taehyun over and done with so he could go to sleep.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Beomgyu sat himself down in the chair at the head of the table. Taehyun was already seated in the chair to the left of the head, arms crossed.

“So what do you want?” Beomgyu asked.

“Glad to see you’ve finally come out of hibernation,” Taehyun remarked. “I feared that I wouldn’t remember what you looked like.”

Beomgyu snorted sarcastically. “Sure you did.”

“Why did you go out anyway? You know the people are mad about the thing that you caused. Just why would you do that? It’s dangerous, it’s unsafe, if someone saw you and recognised you then–”

“I was homesick, okay?” Beomgyu interrupted. “I was homesick. This palace…” he gestured around at all the marble and gold. “This isn’t my home. It’s my accommodation. It’s the place I sleep and eat and live in, but it’s just not my home. It’s too large and cold and filled with judgy people. And I missed it. My cottage. My true home. My small cottage at the edge of the town, decorated with flowers and away from any accusing eyes. The little house I bought with my own money which I purposefully picked because it was far away from this hellhole. I wanted to get away from here, regardless of the dangers. I needed to get away from here.”

Taehyun frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Here, you are well-fed and well-dressed and have all sorts of luxuries. Why would you want to go back to a run-down cottage far away from people?”

Beomgyu chuckled, looking down. “Right. You’ve lived here your whole life. You wouldn’t understand.” He looked up at Taehyun. “Just because I am fed and dressed and can sleep here doesn’t make it my home. I don’t fit in within the cold, marble structures of the court. It’s why I left.”

“I still don’t get it, but it doesn’t matter.” Taehyun crossed his arms. “Would you care to explain why you’ve been avoiding all of your duties for the past three- no, three and a half weeks?”

Beomgyu rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I didn’t want to do them. That’s it. That’s the only reason. The Lords had pissed me off, and the amount of things that needed to be taken care of…” His voice trailed off. “I just couldn't do it.”

That made Taehyun flare up. Beomgyu had only been thinking about himself! “Well what about me, hm? While you neglected your duties, who do you think had to step in and take on the tasks themselves? Who do you think had to go through all the things that you couldn’t be bothered to do, in addition to his own duties he needed to complete?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, I– I completely forgot. Taehyun, oh god, I’m so sorry. I forgot that you’d have to do that for me. Wow, I… that was so selfish of me. I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Do you know how stressful it was to manage the court while you disappeared into your chambers? Do you know how hard it was to fend off any suspicious Lords, who were curious about where you’d gone?”

Beomgyu put his head facedown on the table. “Please, stop making me feel so guilty. I’m sorry, okay? I completely forgot.” He lifted his head to the side a little and spotted a basket sitting atop the wooden table. It was the basket filled with the cakes he'd gotten from Soobin. He must have unconsciously carried it with him into the Meeting Hall. Beomgyu lifted his hand and pushed the basket towards Taehyun. “Here,” he said. “My apology.” Taehyun looked at it suspiciously. “They’re just cakes,” Beomgyu sighed, sitting up. “I wouldn’t poison you.”

Taehyun reached forward to take the basket, lifting up the cloth. He pulled out the plate on which two, small cake slices still sat. Bringing the plate close to his face, Taehyun eyed the cakes.

They were of a cuboid-ish shape, and were a healthy yellow. The softness of the sponge’s colour contrasted with the purplish, bluish, bruise-like patterns embedded into the cake. He smelt the cake, still a little wary, but was pleasantly surprised to find they smelt like normal cakes. Beomgyu smiled bemusedly at the vizier’s antics. Taehyun looked at the cakes one last time. Then he shrugged. Eh, whatever. He popped a whole cake slice into his mouth.

Beomgyu had propped his chin up on his hand. “Nice?”

Taehyun nodded grudgingly, already lifting up the second cake. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

“Good to hear. Is… is it a good enough apology for you?”

Taehyun looked up, cheeks full of cake, and nodded.

“That’s good. No matter what you think, I don’t actually want to be hated by you, you know.”

Taehyun nodded absent-mindedly, chewing on the third slice of cake. Beomgyu smiled, endeared, as he noticed some crumbs on the corner of Taehyun’s mouth. He leaned forward and gently rubbed them away.

And just like that, something in the atmosphere shifted. Taehyun stared at him, eyes wide. He was suddenly hyper aware of Beomgyu’s gentle touch, the way his fingers grazed his cheek, and the way he was looking at him.

“You had a little something on your cheek,” Beomgyu said quietly. His eyes were suddenly incredibly soft, and he stared at Taehyun with such an indecipherable gaze. Taehyun’s ears grew uncomfortably warm and he moved away, out of reach of Beomgyu’s hands. Beomgyu quickly snapped back into his normal state, snatching his hand away. He coughed, sitting back in his seat.

Taehyun touched the corners of his mouth, now more than a little self-conscious. He didn’t know why his ears were suddenly burning up from that simple touch. He glanced at Beomgyu, and found he was staring at his own hand with a dazed look, as if he wasn’t sure about what he’d just done. But then, he coughed again, shifting in his seat. Taehyun quickly looked away. The silence dragged on between them for some time longer, before Taehyun finally spoke.

“Anyway, so are you going to come back?”

“Hm?”

“Are you coming back to court?” Taehyun said. “You know, coming back into your role as King.”

“Oh…” Beomgyu sighed. “I probably have to.”

“Good. There are some things which I need to talk to you about.”

“Can we talk about them some other time?” Beomgyu asked.

“What? No. I need to tell you as soon as possible.”

“Come on, can’t it wait?”

Taehyun frowned, and Beomgyu quickly carried on speaking before he could interrupt. “Please. I haven’t recovered from the revel. I know, I know. It's practically been a month now. I know. Call me weak, call me pathetic. But… being told I’m not good enough, and that I’m a fraud, it just…” Beomgyu clutched his hands to his chest. “That really hurt. It really, really hurt.”

He brought his hands into his lap, looking down at his clenched fists. “Also, I just came back from a really emotional experience. I saw my old house again, I went outside again. Lots of memories came flooding back to me, and I need time to process. Also, I almost became lost. That in itself is a traumatic experience.”

Beomgyu sighed, playing with his fingers.. “Going back, seeing my house… I was reminded of the times I was really happy, the times when I could be free, and be myself, within my small cottage. I was content.But I also remembered the underlying sadness which haunted everything I did– the fact that I’d had to leave you. It broke my heart, did you know that? Because you and I... we were so close, and even if we'd parted on bad terms, it still hurt me to leave you. It was like I was leaving a part of myself, and even if sadness wasn't the predominant emotion, it was still there. But then, I was also reminded of the fact that you didn’t object to me leaving, and even accepted it. In those few hours I was at my cottage today, I went through about hundred and one emotions during that short time. Happiness, sadness, anger, confusion, shock… Please understand, I am not mentally prepared to have any sort of political talk right now.”

Throughout that whole time, Taehyun didn’t say a word once. Beomgyu, confused by the vizier’s silence, looked up, and all the colour drained out of his face. “Oh my god, Taehyun!”

[flamingconfections]

"Rocket, I would deeply appreciate you not being too... harsh, on my husband." Velvet said, looking quite unpleased by what he's heard.

“ Awww, c’mon, Velvet. I-I was just playin’ around! ”

Even so, she sounded pretty guilty already.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be nice. Even if what I said was true anyway. ”

« @sirvelvetcookie »

[sunshinesukuna]

songbird of prey

pairing: hawks x shapeshifter!reader

genre: slice of life, fluff

tw: cheating, 

inspiration: Sendawara Orie and Isshiki Satoshi— Shokugeki no Soma (2015, dir. Yonetani Yoshitomo)

[12.25]

Keigo was looking out the window on a couch in his office. There wasn’t anything to really do today, and it wasn’t his turn to be on patrol. You were doing the same, except instead of a human sitting next to Keigo, a small bird was resting next to him.

Your shapeshifting quirk let you change into various animals at will. The best exploitation of this quirk was to rest as random animals. If it was a sunny day outside, lazing on the sidewalk as a cat was pure bliss. It also let you go on stealth and spying missions relatively easily. 

Today, you were a Japanese bush warbler. You had been fond of the small birds ever since you were a child. They had the most beautiful songs out of all the songbirds you had encountered, and you instantly fell in love. Right now, you were perching on Keigo’s wrist, his knuckle gently stroking your bird’s head.

“What do you say we go out today, birdie?” he asked. You chirp out in indignation, wanting nothing more than to stay at his office and enjoy the day alone with him. 

“What’s that?” He strokes your head again and you simply melt into his touch. It feels like velvet clouds are caressing your hari every so—

“Cock your head to the left if you want to go out, and to the right if you don’t,” Keigo says again. You do as he says and twitch your head to your right. 

“You do want to go out?” he teases. You let out a long trill and dig one of your small fingers into his skin. He lets out a low rumble. “Your right is my left, birdie.” Not taking it anymore, you take flight. You try to stay aloft as you press an attack of pecks with your sharp beak against his nose.

“Ack! Okay, okay, I’m sorry, birdie. We’ll stay in.” With that, you land on his shoulder. His neck is warm and his pulse thundering quickly as you nuzzle in. 

Suddenly, the door creaks open. Stepping through the doorway is a woman who looks like she’s going to a nightclub instead of a day job. It was Keigo’s new assistant of a month, Arisa. She was a quirkless woman who Keigo handpicked from a select few, given her experience in managing other heroes. Apparently, she had been All Might’s personal assistant a few years back, and even had some experience with pros such as Best Jeanist and Miruko. 

“The reports have just come in, sir, where would you like me to put them?” she asked. Her voice dripped with lust and seduction. A bad feeling welled up in your bird stomach.

“Ah, just put them on my table, please,” Keigo said. He stopped stroking your head to point at his table. You pecked his neck again to make him do it again, but he ignored you. Touch starved, you decided to nestle in his blond locks. 

“(Y/N)-chan isn’t around?” Arisa asked. It felt a little weird for her to be calling you chan. You had met her several times, what with you working under Hawks’s agency as well. Each time she had bumped into you, she would be polite and professional, apologizing sincerely and carrying on.

“She went out just as you came in,” Keigo said. Oh boy. You hid yourself in his hair and went to see how the situation would unfold. Keigo slid a hand over your hand. At first glance, it could be interpreted as simply putting his hair back into place, but you knew your boyfriend better than that. It was almost as if he was saying ‘Relax, I got this.’ There was definitely something fishy going on.

“What a shame...” Arisa plopped down on the couch next to Keigo.”But I guess you and I could become more... acquainted in the mean time.” Her hand trailed dangerously close to Keigo’s thigh. 

“Oh really?” Keigo eyed your beady bird eyes in the window, amusement dancing in them. If warblers could narrow their eyes, you would. You settled for blinking slowly. He seemed to be all the more cheeky. With a loud sigh, he put his feet on the coffee table and his hands behind his head. Arisa was brave enough to sling a leg over his lap and straddle him

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” She put the photo of you and Keigo on the coffee table facing down. How dare she put her filthy hands on–

But suddenly her hands were on Keigo’s head, mussing his hair, and found... you. Her hands scooped your small warbler body up. You could only coo quietly as she eyed you up and down. 

“Oh, that’s a pet of mine,” Keigo clarified. “It likes to be nest up there.” Arisa cocked her head. 

“Well you don’t need to be here, do you, little sparrow?” she crooned. You rolled your bird eyes. Thank goodness you weren’t a hawk or anything dangerous. You would have pecked out her eyes by now. 

“It’s a warbler.”

“Well it doesn’t need to be here.” She pulled her hands out from under you. If you weren’t a bird, you would have dropped down to the cold floor. Your wings beat aloft in the air as you landed on the coffee table. “The only witnesses to our love should only be us.” 

Her lips made their way to his own, and you decided you had enough. And in an explosion of feathers, you materialized. In the confusion of your shifting, you had managed to push her off Keigo’s lap and nick his jacket. Not a single stitch covered your body except Keigo’s fluffy jacket around your shoulders. Now it looked like Arisa was the one that had intruded on the situation. You caught Keigo smiling lazily from the corner of your eye.

“You were saying?” you asked in the sweetest tone as possible. 

She was sitting on the floor. Her mouth curved into a large ‘O’ at your sudden appearance. Eyebrows furrowed, the only thing she seemed able to muster were incoherent mutterings. Arisa backed away until there was some distance between the three of you.

You pressed a kiss to Keigo’s lips. He willingly lifted his head up and pulled you closer. Keigo’s tongue swiped eagerly at your lower lip, asking for entrance. You complied willingly. After a few minutes, the door closed in front of you. You pulled away from Keigo. 

The two of you shared a hearty laugh.

[meaty4spicedbuns]

I dunno if your accepting request but I was listening to music I had in my old phone and “eyes closed by rosé” came up and I thought of Suguru Geto right away. I can imagine his singer s/o singing this song thinking about him. After Geto died she no longer wanted to do anything with being a sorcerer and became a singer. I dunno if I made sense but in my mind it does and I’m crying like a baby.

Yes! I do accepted request! And especially about our beloved Suguru Getou because he deserve all the love 🛐💖✨

I can see Suguru and his s/o lying on the grass, chilling. He got his head on they laps while they pass they hand into his hairs. And before they could realize they are singing for him, making him humming the song from time to time if he know it

I,,, love,, your,, idea,,, THE LYRICS!!! Why you must hurt me like that?? (joking, I'm loving it eheh)

Anyway! Your requested inspired me! I put my grain of salt into it tho so I hope you'll like it!

PS : Sorry for any grammatical mistake!

" I would have gave it all for you, been there for you. So tell me where I went wrong.."

It's three in the afternoon when Suguru finish his day. And this guy's is like a puppy when it's about you.

Everytime he could have some free time, he would head up directly to you to have some company.

And today is not an exception.

"Would gave it all for you, and care for you, my lover-"

You couldn't finish your sentences that you heard a whistle. When you turn back you discover Suguru laying against the doorframe, waving at you with a big smile. Messy buns, jogging, you could see he is tired, coming back from a shower after a long day.

"Excuse me sir, did I invite you?, you say with a chicky smile.

"You think I'm a kind of vampire of something?" he answer while getting closer. "Why did I never heard you singing before? Your voice is like velveted honey.

"Because my voice is, like you say, 'velveted honey' and needa be train before I'll let myself sing for other. And better keep it away from rat like you" you stick out your tongue with a smile.

Suguru stick his tong too with a childish expression. Once he is close enough, he wrapped his arm around your waist as he lean closer to put his forehaed against yours. You are on the tips of your feet before he left you so you can put your legs around his waist.

"Would you accept to sing it again for a rat like me then? I think I know this song.

"Um .." You brush your chin, playing as if you are thinking. "I could do you this favor yes."

...

The headphone cup your ears so softly. You can see someone lifting they thumb behind a glassy windows. When you get out the gave you a big smile :

"it will be a hit."

"Yes, what?

You nod. Without even realizing it, you were grabbing your shirt so tightly, tears at the corner of your eyes. You thought for a second seeing his silhouette on the other side of the glass, but it was just your colleague.

You lift your hand and decided to get your stuff quickly go away. You are suffocating right now.

Once you are out in the street, you grab out a phone from your bag. And instantly you turn it on, it immediately began to ring in your hand. You read the name : "Satoru Gojo" and decide to answer :

"It's been a while" his voice seems serious. "You didn't rethink my proposition? "

"It took me too much."

Only thinking of it hurt you. The dark, the blood, the smile, the stitches. You put your hand in your bag, sneaking inside until your finger felt a soft tissus. It's here and still will be. You don't feel like taking it out, but just the though of it being by your side is enough.

"I know.

Maybe one day you'll be strong enought.

"How can you continue?" A silent follow your question so you push it away and say : "My next song, if your heart still hurt, don't listen to it.

"It's about him?" He let a second for you to answer, but you can't. "Wanna came sing it to me as a private concert?

"I'd.. I'd rather.. Not."

"I mean.., you talk again. You know what, I think I can."

You can't see it, but he nod behind his phone.

Tears began to roll down your cheek. You need to accept. This song is you redemption. This song is the container for all the feels you have. This song must contain everything so you can choose to put it on the side. It's your charm. Your exorcism of his jinx. His love.

"Tonight?" you can mumble between two aching breath.

[sabraeal]

(don’t go) making something out of nothing, Part 1

Prologue

i. the first woman he ever loved

The cut is deep, but he’ll give the little shit this-- it’s clean. He spends a day or two on his back, doped up on the weird liqueurs these pharmacists keep plying him with. When he rouses from his stupor, his nose is stitched tight and bandaged to within an inch of it’s life. A tall girl, willowy and bossy, makes dire promises about what she will personally assure will happen to him if he doesn’t take good care of her handiwork, and sends him off with a pot of ointment. When he unscrews the lid, he sneezes; nearly rips a stitch right there. Very medicinal, this stuff.

He doesn’t of course. It heals poorly, a scar like heaved earth erupting over his nose. Women love it.

The cold doesn’t. A discovery he’d be in no place to make if His Majesty hadn’t assigned him to Her Majesty’s guard. Her Majesty, who makes a yearly retreat up to the ass end of the continent for the winter months, since apparently Wistal doesn’t get cold enough for her liking.

That’s where he is when it happens; hundreds of miles away, surrounded by lesser lords and scholars, bored out of his mind. Funny that his first thought isn’t of the king, now lying cold on a slab in the palace, waiting for his kingdom to pay him his due; nor the woman who keeps vigil on the balcony, staring toward the southern sky--

Oh no, it’s for him, that little shit. Wondering if those dead eyes show anything now; if the boy prince looks upon the body of his sire and feels anything at all.

He does. There’s no way a boy can’t. The traitorous part of him suspects it must be relief.

“Your Majesty.” The night swallows his voice, smothering it as surely as any pillow. “Don’t you think it’s time to head in?”

She raises a hand, bone-white and gleaming, but doesn’t turn. “Just a moment longer.”

Thick flakes collect on his nose, scar aching beneath them. He’s been out here too long; the snow doesn’t even melt when it settles on his skin.

“It’s cold as tits out here,” he mutters, twitching the mound off his shoulders. “Hasn’t there been tragedy enough already?”

He glances up, and gods above, the queen is staring right at him with those eyes of hers, so blue they’re nearly black. “Did you say something, Sir Zakura?”

His skin can’t blanch with his blood frozen like it is, so he just settles for stammering like an idiot, as if regret could make the king’s window unhear him. “I-I only meant--”

“Did you know, Sir Zakura,” she begins, gaze turning back out toward the horizon, “that tonight is the longest night?”

He spends a single, thick-witted moment wondering whether she’s speaking in a poetical sense-- these nobles like to do that, slinging allusions and aspersions all in the same pot to make a particularly heady brew-- until he remembers. “Ah, the solstice, isn’t it?”

He can’t read her face, not when her back is to him like this, but he does see the way a cheek rounds, pleased. “Just so.”

It doesn’t mean much down south, where the winds are always warm and the sun clings to Wistal’s cloudless skies. But up here, where winter is but a whim away, it’s something else entirely. A rebirth, one of the men had told him as they’d passed the tents along the main street, lanterns hanging on strings above them. A promise.

There’s been talk of kissing too, but that seems a poor thing to mention to a woman whose widowhood is still laying fresh on the slab.

“Your Majesty,” he tries again, “it’ll get darker. And colder. Come inside.”

She turns to him, the moonlight pouring over her shoulder, illuminating the pristine ermine of her robes, washing the pale gold of her hair to silver, and--

It’s a goddess these northerners revere tonight, moon and sun and earth all come together. And in this light, in the way the spheres have aligned themselves in this moment, just for his view, she could be her in the flesh.

“Isn’t it said, sir,” she murmurs, words loud in the lull of the storm, “that it’s darkest before the dawn?”

Zakura doesn’t hold with the gods, but his breath catches even still. The woman before him is more than just a widow, more than just a queen, more than--

The wind howls through the walls, snow flying from its crenellations, and as it falls around them, every flake limned in moonlight, Haruto laughs.

“All right,” she says, mortal once more. “I can take a hint.”

The queen sweeps past him, robe trailing in the snow. It leaves a wake behind her, her footprints filled by what it drags behind. For a single mindless moment, Zakura wonders if her feet even touched the ground.

He turns, just in time to see her drop her robe in the doorway. With a sigh, he trudges in behind her, gathering the fur and velvet into his arms; the diligent mother to her rambunctious child. Wet tracks lead across the carpet, straight to the divan where she perches. Snowflakes melt on her skin, her hair, soaking her to the bone.

And there she sits, the Queen Regent of Clarines, oblivious to it all.

A maid steps forward-- a new one, provided for her by Arleon. The queen had left her household back at Wistal, save for him; the duke had been kind enough to provide her with a temporary replacement during her stay. It came, of course, complete with his daughter as a lady-in-waiting, but Her Majesty seems pleased with the outcome and not the least apologetic.

Zakura shoves the robe at the maid-- Mayu, he thinks? Or maybe Ane?-- and murmurs, “Tea. Please.”

She blinks, eyes darting toward where the queen sat, silent. “Shall I send her ladies, sir? She need to get out of those clothes before she catches...”

Her death. He doesn’t blame the girl for keeping those trapped behind her teeth. “Just the tea.”

The maid opens her mouth, as if she’d like to object, but the queen’s stillness is sharply interrupted by a seismic shiver. It makes his teeth chatter just watching, but Her Majesty--

Her Majesty doesn’t move, not one muscle. The maid’s lips press together, a thin white line across her face, and nods. “Tea. Of course, sir.”

He doesn’t watch to see if she goes.

With caution, he edges around the furniture, slipping between the settee and the coffee table to sit at its edge, eyes fixed on the woman in front of him.

Her mouth curls, but there’s no more of that manic laughter in it. He can’t say whether he’s relieved or concerned. “Don’t look at me like that, sir.”

Her voice is lilted, teasing, but even as young as he is, he hears the tremor in it, knows what it means. It had been in his own mother’s enough.

“I’m happy to be home.” There’s no false bravado in that one; even if she hadn’t said it, he’d know. In Wistal, the queen is a whisper, but here she’s an explosion; every room she enters she fills. “Even if some things had to be left behind...”

Some things, she says, so easily, as if His Majesty had not barely allowed this trip, as if he had not told her it was unseemly to be seen among rebels and traitors. As if she had not practically begged His Highness on her knees to come with her, and he had waved her off.

The capital is too diverting, he told her with that smug smirk of his, the same he wore when he looked at the bits of scab still clinging to Zakura’s nose. I couldn’t possibly spare a moment. Especially not for a trip to nowhere.

Nowhere. Throngs of folk filled the streets of Wirant every day, the second largest city in his kingdom, only rivaled by Eurikenna, and yet-- it meant nothing to him. No wonder Bergatt had rebelled.

And now his mother sat in mourning, and still the little shit couldn’t spare so much as a song for her. She’d written, of course, the moment she heard the news-- will you not, at least, send your brother, who must long for his mother now?-- but Zakura knew what the answer would be.

I could not possibly spare him-- as if a ten-year-old had any sort of skill in statecraft-- we look forward to seeing you in the spring.

The queen doesn’t waver, there’s not a bit of her that bows, but he knows better than anyone: women don’t bear their hurts for all to see. Instead it lingers in the crease of her eyes, where old smiles hide them; in the worried knot of her hands, obscured by the folds of her skirt; in the gentle way she lists with her world pulled out from underneath her.

If only His Highness would deign to see her this way, maybe he wouldn’t find the court’s little games so diverting. Or maybe he would. Who could say? He’s not here now.

But Zakura is.

“You have me, your Majesty.” It’d sound prettier from one of the other guards, one of the spares, or maybe a merchant’s boy. The kind of folk who grew up with more than one book in their house and didn’t use it as a shim under a table leg.

She blinks the clouds from her eyes, mouth curving in a fond smile. “I do, at that.”

He’s too rough for this; all these years in the guard have barely smoothed his edges, but well-- he’s what she’s got. She deserves that, at least. “You always will.”

“Ah.” A too-thin hand settles on his head, fingers carding gently through his hair. “A pretty sentiment. Thank you, sir.”

His breath hisses through his teeth, sharp and wounded, but still-- he leans into her touch. Heart clattering against his ribs, he allows her to push back the sweep of his hair, to look into his eyes. She sees a boy, but he can show her he is a man well enough.

“My lady,” he rasps, and oh, it hurts like a bitch to bare himself like this. “You said it’s the solstice, right?”

Her brows flirt right with her hairline, like she’s used to speaking but not being heard. “So I did.”

He’s not a shy man, not untouched, but he swallows hard when her gaze meets his. It’s enough, only just.

Beneath his lips, hers are thinner than he’s used to, but as soft and any maid’s. Her breath skitters over his skin on a gasp, fingers clenching in his hair-- from surprise, not any more southerly urge, and--

“Well,” she murmurs, a scant inch from him. “That was...pleasant.”

“Ah...” His mouth works, if only to keep it from a grimace. “Your Majesty. I hadn’t...I mean, I didn’t...”

Her mouth, too near, quirks with the same mischief as her son’s. “At a loss for words, Sir Zakura?”

“I only just...” He should stop talking, needs to stop talking, but oh, that look of hers says he’s gone too far to quit. “It was like kissing my mother.”

Queen Haruto tuns to him, days later, with the southern sky behind her and says, “I have been thinking, sir, that it is time for you to return.”

He can’t say he’s surprised, but still, it stings. “That so, my lady?”

“Do not miss my meaning.” Her voice is lower, softer, but still every inch a queen regnant. “I worry for my son, but with things as they are--” a dead king and lords circling like vultures in the royal court-- “I cannot go to him. Not yet.”

Ah, he can see the shape of this with only that peek behind the curtain, and he doesn’t like it.

“His Majesty put you in my care for a reason,” he presses, gruff. “And now that he is...”

Well, there’s no delicate way to put it. He lets it hang in the air between them, unsaid but utterly known.

Her hands fold, white as porcelain and just as perfect with the kid gloves covering them. Still too thin for his comfort; she needs to be eating more. “You’re the only man I can trust. Please.”

His breath burns, too cold in his lungs. “This is because of what I said about the kiss, isn’t it?”

Her mouth bows, humor trembling at it corners. “Oh, sir...” Her Majesty steps forward, hands cradling his cheeks. “Absolutely.”

[hayleysstark]

Doppelganger

Words: 2255 Warnings: Swearing Summary: "Merlin," Arthur says, "has split himself into nine Merlins." / "Jesus Christ," Elyan says blankly.

Read on Fanfiction or AO3. 

"Right," Arthur says, finally, into the absolute silence of Gaius' wrecked chamber—all the tables and chairs overturned, all the big, dusty books open on the floor, torn pages and stained papers still fluttering around and around in the air like tiny white birds. "So." He lets himself think, for one long and happy moment, of the moment he sees Merlin again. He can't wait to drag the idiot down to the kitchens and tell the cook to chop him up and serve him for dinner.

"Now, Sire," Gaius says, like Arthur has just opened up his mouth and actually said I'm going to chop Merlin up and serve him for dinner out loud, except, Arthur's really very certain he didn't, so maybe Gaius really can read minds, like Gwaine always wants to bet thirty pounds on, "—mustn't be too hard on Merlin, surely, you know that, it was merely an accident—"

"Right," Arthur says, again. It'll be a tricky thing to boil Merlin. He's all skinny and stringy. He'll get chewy very fast. "Wouldn't dream of it, Gaius."

And maybe Gaius really can read minds, because he sees through that in less than half a moment—damn it, Gwaine wins, doesn't he, Arthur's going to have to hand thirty pounds over to the drunken fool tonight—

"—Sire, please, Merlin merely misunderstood the intent of the incantation—I cannot deny, he ought to have proceeded with far more caution, and of course, he must shoulder some of the blame, but it is not entirely his fault—"

All right. No. Absolutely not. Arthur cannot listen to that any longer. "Not entirely his fault?" He doesn't mean to shout it. That just sort of happens all on its own. "He's gone and split himself into eight! This is entirely his—!"

"Nine," Gaius says, gently, and reaches over, and pats Arthur lightly on the back of his hand. "Actually."

"Oh! Right! Yes! Of course!" Arthur yanks his hand away, and he thinks he might actually still be shouting a little bit. Maybe. "Of course! Nine! Why didn't I think of that! Eight would be too easy, I expect!"

"—Sire—"

"And God forbid Merlin ever make anything easy! He can't just go and have magic, oh, no, he's got to go and be a dragonlord, and have a dragon, and be married to a lake, and be the king of the druids and split himself into eight!"

"Nine," Gaius says, again. It feels very unhelpful right now.

The door swings open, with a long, low creak—a good thing, because if Gaius had got one more word out of his mouth, Arthur would have actually exploded—and the knights rush in, with a great swirl and swish of scarlet cloaks, and a heavy clatter of silver mail, and Guinevere follows on their heels, her red velvet skirt bunched up in her fists so she can run.

"Sire," Leon bows low, and flicks his sweat-soaked curls out of his eyes with the back of his hand, "Gaius," he nods at the old man, "we all came as soon as we heard—what's happened, what is it, what's—?"

"Merlin," Arthur says, at once, because it's like when Gaius rips out stitches after the wound has healed, the quicker, the better, the quicker, the less it will hurt, "has split himself into eight Merlins."

"Nine," Gaius says.

"Nine," Arthur amends with a little huff.

"Jesus Christ," Elyan says blankly.

Percival nods fervently.

"Nine Merlins?" Guinevere echoes, incredulously, and her brows arch up a bit, and she looks at Arthur like she thinks this is all a joke he wants to play on them, like any moment now, Merlin will pop out from behind one of the overturned tables, or come down the dark, narrow stairs at the back of the room, and laugh his idiot head off and say not really!

Arthur should be so lucky. Arthur really, really should be so damn lucky. "Nine Merlins." He nods.

"Fuck," Gwaine says, frankly.

Percival nods fervently again.

"Thank you, Gwaine," Gaius says dryly.

"Well, there has to be a way to fix him," Arthur says impatiently—honestly, yes, all right, he knows this is a bit of a shock, but it really doesn't take that long to come 'round to Merlin is an absolute idiot and he lost control of his magic and mucked up and now we have to go fix it, sounds like Tuesday in Camelot, huh, "can't we just—I don't know—" he doesn't know, actually, he doesn't know very much about magic at all, because magic lives in the lovely little place he likes to call Merlin's Problem, Not Mine, but Merlin's not here right now to make it his problem, so it looks like it's going to be Arthur's problem instead, "—can't we just take all the Merlins and shove them back into one Merlin, or something?"

"Shove them back into one?" Guinevere whirls around to scowl at Arthur. "No! No, we are not going to hurt him!"

"If we can get all the variants of Merlin together," Gaius says, calmly, but he's already raising that damned brow, "there is, indeed, a spell that will—gently—" his brow jumps a bit higher, "merge the facets back into one cohesive whole. But I need hardly tell you, I do not possess the power to even attempt such a thing, Sire. Merlin himself must do it."

"Great," Arthur says flatly. "Why do we always need Merlin for everything?" It's not like the idiot doesn't deserve it—might even do him some good, actually, to clean up his own messes—but Arthur thinks, sometimes, he would give his sword arm just to have a crisis in his kingdom he can solve without magic, and gold eyes, and a whole lot of odd gibberish.

"Hey," Gwaine says, "question."

"Yes, Gwaine," Arthur snaps, "you have to help." If he can't get out of this, his knights aren't getting out of this. "I don't care how many taverns have got a half-price deal going, or if that barmaid finally lost her last rational thought and decided to roll in the hay with you, but—"

"'Have to help'?" Gwaine echoes, like Arthur's just said a truly obscene swear. "Try and stop me, Princess. It's Merlin." Like that explains everything.

(It does, actually, because Arthur feels the same—if Merlin needs him, that's it, that's just it, end of story, nothing else matters, so long as he's there when Merlin needs him—but he would cut out his own tongue and chop it up for dinner before he would ever, ever say that out loud.)

"Please, Sir Gwaine," Gaius says, "I fear there's not much time. If Merlin remains in this disparate state for much longer, the facets will, gradually, begin to fade, and the Merlin we know will disappear from this realm forever."

"Disappear?!" Arthur snaps back around to look at Gaius. "Why the hell didn't you come right out and say that before now?!" It hits like ice in the bottom of his stomach—disappear, forever, Merlin will disappear from this realm forever, the Merlin we know will disappear from this realm forever, and what will I do without him, what will I do without him, I can't, I can't, I need him, I need him here, I can't do this without him, I can't, we haven't done all the things we're meant to do, and I need him here, so we can do them, I need him here to call me a prat and trip over absolutely everything and cry when he sees baby rabbits and hold a sword all the wrong ways because he's rubbish with a blade and I need him here to smile too much and say good morning too loudly and talk about druids and dragons and magic for hours if I don't shut him up and just be Merlin—

"All right, all right, so, just—one thing, then," Gwaine hastily holds up a broad, black-gloved hand, "just one thing, yeah? So, if Merlin tried a weird spell, and turned himself into nine—"

"Yes," Arthur huffs—maybe he should chop Gwaine up, and serve him for dinner, then, "wonderful job, Gwaine, truly phenomenal, now, come on, we have to find him—"

"—wait, wait," Gwaine says, "wait, now, just hang on, Princess, if Merlin tried a weird spell, and turned himself into nine—"

"Gwaine, if you don't sober up and take this seriously, I swear to God, I'll have Percival toss you in the horse trough!" Arthur snarls.

"Um," Percival says, "actually, I would rather not toss Gwaine in the horse trough."

"No need to hide it," Elyan says. "We all kind of want to toss Gwaine in the horse trough."

"—if Merlin tried a weird spell and turned himself into nine, which one is supposed to merge him back?!"

Oh. A hard, heavy stone drops down in Arthur's stomach, right next to the ice. God, Gwaine's actually got a point—would wonders never cease, and all of that, but no, this is not the time, because Gwaine's actually got a damn good point, if Merlin isn't just one Merlin any longer, if he's a whole lot of Merlins all running 'round the castle, is there a way to get one of them to—to do it, to put him back, to put him right, to make him Merlin again—?

"Oh," Gaius doesn't look even half so horrified as Arthur feels, "now that is very simple, Sir Gwaine. You must find the one that is truly Merlin."

Gaius' idea of "simple" looks very, very different from Arthur's.

"Right, thanks," Gwaine says. "One more thing, though. What the actual fuck does that mean?"

"Gwaine!" Elyan reaches up and cuffs his friend, hard, 'round the head.

"I'm sorry," Gaius says, seriously, "I'm afraid I don't know that. I suppose you will know the true Merlin once you find him."

Great. Arthur's stomach sinks, under the weight of all that ice and stone. So he has to track down nine magical idiots, because just one apparently isn't magical or idiotic enough, and he's got to work out which one is actually, truly his magical idiot. Wonderful. Can't wait.

"All right, well," Guinevere bites her bottom lip, and turns to look at the others, a wrinkle in her dark brow, "well, then, we have to find him first." She shakes her head—her thick, brown curls bounce a bit, up and down. "Them. We have to find them. Where do you think they'd have gone?"

"Perhaps," Leon speaks up before Arthur's got the chance to even think about it, "perhaps he's gone to the king's chambers? That's usually where he goes every morning, so, maybe—"

Oh. The ice and stone in Arthur's stomach lifts a little. That's actually not a bad idea. No, that's—that's a good idea, actually, that's a very good idea, that is where Merlin goes every day, and where else does Merlin go every day? Where else would Merlin be at this time?

It hits Arthur hardly half a moment later. "The armory!" He glances over at Leon. "And the training field—he's usually down there with me right now, we usually spar 'round this time—"

"Spar?" Gwaine snorts. "No, you don't 'spar', you just hit him over and over until he can't stand up. That's not a spar. That's a beating."

"Shut up, Gwaine."

"Oh! The kitchens!" Guinevere's face lights up. "He goes there all the time to fetch Arthur's meals! And to steal food," she adds, with a little scowl, "honestly, you'd think he doesn't hear me at all, I've tried a hundred times to tell him not to—"

"What d'you expect?" Gwaine cocks a dark brow. "Princess hardly gives the poor guy time to breathe. It'd be a miracle if he ever got to actually sit down and eat a proper meal."

"Gwaine," Arthur says, "the horse trough is still very much on the table right now." Of course Merlin has time to eat. Plenty of time. Loads of time, even. The idiot knows how to talk—unfortunately—and he certainly knows how to whine and whinge if he ever gets too hungry.

"Oh!" Percival brightens. "Maybe that's where Merlin's gone!"

"The horse trough?" Elyan arches a doubtful brow at Percival.

"No, no," Percival waves him off, "the stables! He has to see to the horses every day, right? And he'll hang 'round sometimes to spoil his old nag, I've seen him at it."

"Excellent idea, Percival!" Guinevere beams at him. "Thank you!"

A tiny little bit of relief stirs in Arthur's stomach. Maybe this won't be nearly as hard as he thinks. "All right, everyone, let's all fan out. Sir Percival, you'll take the stables, since you thought of it, Guinevere, if you could see to the kitchens, Sir Elyan, the armory and the training field, Sir Leon, check the throne room, it's worth a look, and Sir Gwaine, get yourself down to the archives—"

"I really don't think there's a Merlin in the archives," Gwaine breaks in. "Pretty sure if he ever picked up a book that wasn't just magic cover-to-cover, Gaius might actually cry of joy."

"It is a long-cherished dream of mine," Gaius admits.

"Shut up, Gwaine," Arthur says, again, "just check the archives. Maybe he's there, maybe he's not, but we just can't take the risk. We can't miss one of him. We have to find all of them. Quickly."