#Cashmere || Weepy chests with weepy sighs

[serendipitykismet-moving]

@monochromaticoccultist liked for a starter from Cashmere!

    Cashmere stretched his jaw uncomfortably, his bones never seemed to set back quite right with the way that his body would change when his hunger got the best of him. There was a crack as it popped back into place. Finally.

    Cashmere had managed to stave off the hunger and madness for a while longer at least, though it never really got easier. At least for the time being he hadn’t had to live through the unpleasant crush of a human skull under his teeth. Admittedly, it didn’t feel great to have to wholesale slaughter Caribou either, but at least they didn’t come with the guilt of knowing that he was taking the life of a human and probably prying a family apart. It was always hard to fight that guilt unless he was really that far gone, and when he was it usually just meant blacking out and reeking havoc.

     His ears perked up though, the sound of snow crunching underfoot catching his attention. He had to question what person in their right mind was this far out in the wilderness during the dead of winter. They were liable to freeze-- and more than that, they were liable to mistake him for any other human and try to show him kindness that would likely be their end. 

    With a skill that no normal human should have, he leapt into the thick canopy cover of the fir trees above and climbed as high as would support his weight with a far too practiced ease, perching on a branch and peering around the area he could see for what might have cause the sound.

[serendipitykismet]

[javiersprincess]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓�� 𝐌𝐄

warnings: 18+ minors dni, fingering, nipple sucking, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex, size kink, big cock toji, fem reader, sub reader, toji is kinda soft in this but still a tease, cervix fucking (1 mention) clit smacking (1 mention) dacryphilia,,,,let me know if i missed anything. 3.7k words

sum: Be like the love that discovered the sin, that freed the first man, would do so again, and lover be good to me. 

You’re so sweet to him - gentle and doting. He remembers the time he came home, covered in sweat and some bloodstains on his knuckles. You just sighed and shook your head - you took him to the bathroom and took care of the scrapes on his skin, pressed a kiss to the scabbed skin, and mumbled to be more careful. You wash his clothes, even if it’s to steal his shirts that are too big for your compared smaller frame to his. You make his - your bed when he comes back from errands, make his favorite on Saturday movie nights.

He remembers the time you made him a sweater for his birthday, a cold December evening, and he remembers going to the bathroom while you slept, tears dripping from his eyes into the yarn that smelled like you. Of you, of vanilla and cashmere and oak.

You were too good for him, the truth of the statement feels natural like the cycle of the sun and the moon.

He could see it in every motion, in every smile you gave him. He was a shitty man, with a foul temper, who spent his life chasing a grudge born and festered in his childhood.

Your gentleness soothes him, he thinks. Makes him calmer and tempered. Gentle even. It scares him how much you change him, mold him and tame him into this soft and dotted and coddled boyfriend who holds your hand till you get to the bottom step of the stairs to make sure you don’t fall and hurt yourself. The other part of him feels seen by your unconditional love, the small shadow that hides at the corners of his outer persona - the desire to be seen by another pair of eyes that aren’t the green of his own.

The conflict makes him grumpy. Makes him frown at how you awake the two innermost sides of himself all by giving him a smile and a kiss on the cheek when he has morning breath and a bird’s nest for hair. He hears you huff a laugh at the grunt he gives, and he thinks about how he wants to squish your cheeks together in one big palm til you get teary-eyed, and give him a muffled whine to let you go.  

 It’s a Saturday night - movie night aforementioned and Toji is barely paying attention to the movie, which he feels kinda bad about really. It’s a favorite one from your childhood you told him as you changed into your pajamas for the night, one you watched when you were weepy and sad from being sick. He feels his eyes trailing your figure, you’re wearing these tiny black shorts - he can see the bit of your ass peek from underneath and this little cropped shirt. It’s warmer now, spring seeping in early than previously.  You’re talking, going on about childhood memories and he’s staring at every one of your movements, the way your chest expands and your shoulders slope, and how the flesh of your thighs squish against each other as you sit next to him.

“Sit on me,” he mumbles, bumping his head to yours - cutting you off mid-sentence as you laugh at how much of a cat he is like. You tease him, calling him your big baby which he grunts at but you climb into his lap all the same - you kiss his cheek and coo at him - “Is this better, my baby?” Toji rolls his eyes and presses close, kissing your neck and grumbling as you laugh. Even the way you tease is soft, you poke at his cheek and grin at him, call him an assortment of pet names that an earlier version of him would scoff and laugh at, but the present him only bears it and tries to keep the pink of his cheeks at bay.

You look cute like this, he thinks. Your skin is shiny from your skincare routine he watches you do every night from his seat on the toilet cover, lips tainted a reddish-pink from your cherry-scented lip balm, and eyes warm from your happiness. Your form is dwarfed by him - his height and build make you feel smaller than anyone has ever before. He blinks and takes you in as you keep prattling on about something or another. He hears you laugh and he blinks from his trance,

“Are you having fun there handsome?” You tease him and he grunts, realizing you’ve been staring at him staring at you and he burrows his face in your neck feeling your shoulders shake as you giggle at him.

“Quit laughin’ at me, I’ll push you off.” He grumbles, gripping your hips with his hands as if to take you off his lap. You squirm and whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and pleading not to.

“Noooo I was just teasing!” You pout and you giggle softly at the way his lips start to quirk up. You feel his right hand come up to your face and he squishes your cheeks together, his left-hand stays at your hips, thumb rubbing at the sliver of skin between your shirt and shorts.

“Keeping laughin’ at me ‘n I’ll give ya something to pout about.” He laughs out a breathy, entertained huff at the ends of his words making your face warm. You blink once, then twice, and then you make that face that makes Toji laugh. Your eyes get wide and you bite your bottom lip that trembles and you can’t hold eye contact.

“Are you trying to fuck me?” You ask, eyes narrowed but your tone is timid. He huffs in amusement again - making you feel shy is his favorite pastime and Toji likes how most often than not you are still shy when presented with the simple fact that Toji likes you enough to want to ram his cock in you. More than even he would like to admit it to your face.

“Took you long enough. Was beginnin’ to think you got even denser than when we first met.” He teases you and he grins, teeth sharp and a bit hungry at the memory of the night you both met - a club with you dressed in a tight black get up and looking alone without your friends, how you blinked doe-eyed and demure when he made you the offer of stepping out.

Morning came with cum stained thighs and wrapped up in a tall, dark, and handsome stranger’s bedsheets. He remembers that morning clearly as morning rain. You blinked up at him while he offered you the choice of staying or calling a cab. With a timid look on your face, you gave him your answer - you stayed and he laughed at how you stumbled out of bed and joined him for breakfast.  He wonders if you know how endeared you are to him. How much he loves you - loved you since that morning, when you scrunch your nose at his charred eggs and burnt toast. He stares at you fondly now, in the present moment as you puff and hide your face into his shoulder.

He laughs at your frustrated whine as your let out a small “hmmph!” into his form and he coos at you. His hands rub at your exposed skin, your rump, and your hips. Big, hardened hands covered in calluses and scars and crooked fingers digging into the giving, plushness of your form and he grins at you. He likes that you’re quiet and shy when he gives you this kind of attention - the tremble in your lips and the way your gaze goes downward means you are a tad uncomfortable as you are flattered by it,

“You’re fucking cute ya know that? S’what makes me want to fuck you.” He tells you, voice dark and sinful, and he watches with lidded, entertained as you squirm in his lap. He hisses when the swell of your mound meets and sits on the stiffness of his sweats - you think if you got up you’d see the print of it, heavy with length and girth that takes you time to prepare for it. Even now despite all the experience you’ve had with it, it always feels like it’s the first time.

Toji knows that too, and he likes that. He likes that he’s too big, too much for you and that little oasis in between your legs. He likes how it feels to go through the process - the action of making you cum twice on his fingers, then on his tongue, and then on his cock, until he has his pleasure and you’re teary-eyed and dumb for him. He likes how you clutch at him - a lifeline in the ocean of pleasure he drowns you in, pushing your head under the rocking waters but somehow your lungs fill with more air than salty seawater.

You have no reason to be as adorable as you are now, he can hear your pants for breath and whines tugging to be let out of your lips as he drags your hips over his. He can feel you soak the seam of your shorts, Toji is a gambling man through and through and he’d give good money to bet you're dripping and blood is going to that cute little clit of yours that always pulses for him - begging for his fingers and tongue just as much as you do through bated breath and flushed cheeks.

“T-toji, please..take em’ off.” You murmur him, mirroring him as you nudge at his chin with the crown of your head, lips in a pout and shuddering when you hear his rumbling laugh. Toji is kind to you, gentle in some ways but he is nowhere near nice, especially in bed. Begging and pleading does it for him, always has, and always will. The sweetness in your unsure, flustered voice makes his dick twitch and your weak, defeated tone makes his balls swell in his baggy pants that somehow never really hid the print of his cock from prying eyes. 

“Yeah? Should I? That’s all ya want sweetheart - just for me to strip ya? Nah,” He mimics you, tone light and teasing, snark dancing at the edge of your plea like a ballet dancer. Your face feels hot and your head spins as you shake at his words. You can hear him in your ear as a big finger hooks into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them down, your panties half sliding down with them till the hem gets stuck at the fat of your thigh.

“You want more huh? Greedy girl, always wanting  more n always ready to beg for it too - you’ve got no pride when it comes to me don’t you.”

 He says it like a question but you know he means it like an observation - he’s correct of course, you would abandon everything for the demon of Toji. If only you knew he’d do the same and more for you - which is why he slips his fingers, big and thick past the sticky gusset of your panties and brushes past the petals of your cunt to meet your clit. You twitch and gasp - high and sweet like birdsong and he grins, scar stretching across his lips as he takes in the first crumbling of your demure resolve to show the wanton whore inside you. 

He keeps his fingers there, the rough and sturdy pads of his fingers make your hips jut out and roll, chasing the trail of a pleasure shaped in a white rabbit dressed in coattails and the sticky tapping of your slick against his fingers is the ticking of his clock. You sigh his name again when his fingers slide past your clit and follow the seam of your folds. Your head goes down the slope of the invisible thread of motion that pulls you closer to Toji - the earth tugs the moon close as effortlessly as Toji does. Your head rests in between his neck and jaw and you dig your fingers into the material of his shirt as not one but two fingers press against your fluttering hole.

He’s impatient.

 You realize as the brain-numbing sting of his fingers push inside you - tentatively and slowly, you gasp and whine into his neck, drool beginning to gather and drip out the corner of your lips. He shushes you and chuckles at the defeated slump in your shoulders, he presses you closer to his lap, your breasts flush against his and he grins at your loss and his victory.

Grunting at the incessant clutching of your walls you hear him chide you - “This cunt’s so fuckin’ tight, don’t I fuck you enough to loosen you up?” You feel him curl his fingers deep inside you, they fit in snugly and you win when he presses the tips of his pads against the spongy part hidden in the walls. You cry, your shoulders shake and your thighs tremble; you half hate, half love your sensitivity as Toji’s voice leers over your shoulder - “Found something, didn’t I?”

You nod your head, eyes scrunched up and watery as he keeps the pace; curling, pumping, fucking you to pieces and you almost cry at how your cunt only gives you the weakest of pulses to signal that you’re frayed rope is on it’s last, dwindling thread until it snaps and your body locks up and your hips twitch as your walls suck, milking at Toji’s fingers for cum they can’t produce.

Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, your jaw feels limp at how he keeps his fingers in you, pushing you back a bit so he can see the look on your face when he keeps fucking your sopping cunt open. Your brows scrunched and your mouth twists as you jump when his retreating fingers brush past your clit. You breathe his name - “Toji, please.” and you’re too blinded by your teary eyes you fail to see how he flushes by how reverently you call his name.

He takes your hips in his hands, you faintly register your slickness on his fingers when your back touches the plushness of your shared bed. 

“I got ya sweetheart - I’ll give ya what you want.” He mumbled from above you, his mass being the only thing you can see, feel or smell; the scent of your cunt and sweat and his natural musk sticks to him and you wonder how lucky you are to have him. You reach out and tug at your shirt, the soft material pulled under the swell of your tits and you reach out for his face. Toji, who nuzzles and kisses your palm laughs - rough and cracked at how you’ve served yourself on a platter for him.

His hand comes to one of your tits and squeezes, fingers digging into your malleable flesh, and laughs at your squeak. His thumb rubs at your hardened nipple (you did always run cold) He bends his head down and presses a kiss to the hardened pebble, teasing you with the slightest bit of tongue. When you gasp and arch your back he lets his lips surround your teet and suck, hard. 

Gasping, your arms shoot around his head and press your chest out further, groaning at how he presses his weight further down on you and lets his tongue trace, flick at your sensitive nipple before letting go - strings of spit following his grinning mouth. You look wrecked, jaw lax and drool at the corner of your lips and eyes foggy with pleasure - your tits and cunt shine in the low light in the room, and when he asks if you want him to fuck you no, he grins like a wolf at your hurried nod. Blinking out of your stupor you sniffle a little pathetically and you tug him closer by the waistband of his pants - he coos at your neediness, clearly the buzz from cumming did nothing but work you up, you really are nothing but his greedy girl.

His sweats are pulled down and you gasp at how heavy his cock is, as it bobs and droops down on it’s own, Subconsciously you press your legs together, your thighs sticky with slick as your cunt pulses at that going inside you. Toji grins, the gasp and look on your face each time you see his 8 inches hard makes his back stand a little straighter as he looms over you. Big hands go to your thighs and part them, spreading them up and away from the other till your knees brush against your tits. You gulp at this position, you know it all too well, you know how much Toji loves it and how deeply it lets him go - it lets him hit.

“C’mon baby whatcha lookin’ all scared for? You’ve seen it before, yeah? Told me you love my cock even,” He coos, grabbing his cock with one hand, fingers barely managing to touch when wrapped around the circumference of his girth.You moan when he draws near, a globe of pre drips on your puffy clit. His head nudges your cunt, the suckling hole of your cunt flutters as he presses it closer, strong arms keeping himself upright by gripping on the backs of your thighs - sore spots in the same shape of his fingers will pulse and throb as evidence from how Toji fucks the one he loves.

He can faintly see the indents of his nails in your flesh when he pushes forwards and grunt through clenched teeth at how your walls struggle to take the mushroom head of his cock - out of desperation and in tune with your pained gasp of his name he spits - the clear, tacky substance drips down your folds to the spear of his cock and grants him another inch. Your thighs quake in his grip and feel them twitch from the sting your poor cunt leaks for.

“Toji, toji - nngh, it’s big -” you pause your babbling as you hiccup, chest going up and down as tears gather in your delicate waterline, you throw your head back in defeat and squirm against him, “ Why are you so big?” You half ask half squeal, sobs racking through your chest to your stomach as the last inch of Toji’s monster of a cock presses flush to the buzzing lips of your cunt.

Balls to your ass he pulls back only to surge forward, the pat, pat, pat of your slicked and hot thighs meeting the swell of his balls fills the room, as Toji grunts from the tight, hot, sopping heat of your cunt suckles around his cock - begging to be filled. He tears his gaze from how your too small cunt takes his too big cock to your face only to find you’ve covered your face with your hands, lips curl back to a snarl he almost growls at you,

“Take your fuckin’ hands off.” It's a threat, one hand lets go of your thigh and taps at your clit - it makes you jump and shift and you sob at how it lets his cock go in deeper, bumping against the wall of your cervix. Your hands are curled at your chest as your mouth is left hanging and you sob when he barks at you - “Cover up again n I’ll use ya like damn sleeve n leave you here, got it?” You can see the veins in his neck and you nod, hands coming to the backs of your knees, holding up one and the other resting above Toji’s own.

He blinks away sweat in his eyes and nods, gaze going back to your cunt, “Good girl,” He licks the thumb of his free hand and takes it back to your clit - strums at it and keeps his pace even as you squeal - teetering on going over the edge, the sea of pleasure once again laps at your ankles, caressing your skin; asking to bring you under.

You say yes. You always say yes with hearts in your eyes and your thighs spread.

“Toji- Toji, baby m cumming, m gonna cum!” Your cry, voice rocky and shrill as you sob through your climax and your hand that rests on his clutches the knuckles of his hand, fingers breaking skin in red lines. He grunts and rolls out a rough, deep, “Fuck..” as he feels your release drip to his balls and down the fat of your ass. He nods and picks up the pace - focusing on his pleasure, he bites down on his tongue as you squeak and cry at his fast and deep thrusts. Your bedsheets are a mess - when Toji cums, he spills the white of his cum into your puffy cunt only for it to drip out the seams, landing on your soft white sheets. 

Toji lets your thighs drop to his waist and he lets you pull him closer. He gently scoops you from under him, so he rests on his back and you lay on top of him - sweaty and covered from tears to drool. He lets himself rest, hand on top of your head soothing your hair as you press soft kisses to his chest in between your shakiness and sniffles.

He hums at your affirmations, letting you melt into his skin as soft - “I love you”s fall from your bitten lips. He repeats them back to you, eyes dropping from the come down till you murmur that you need to get clean. He blinks at you like a cat before smiling and nodding.

“Five minutes though, just like having ya to myself like this.” He mutters, you can see the lines below his eyes, and you smile fondly. Nodding you press another kiss to his chest before scooting off and rolling to his side.

“I love you.” You say, and you mean it. You mean it as much as your thighs burn and your body aches. He looks at you and takes you in before he nods, bringing one big arm around to hold you close.

“Love ya too. '' he means it, even though it's hard for him to admit you take it with a smile and a nuzzle to his chin. You really are too good for him, no one sticks to him like you do, but maybe, if a good person likes you chooses him that must be in someway he really is good too.

[bbrandy2002]

My Love

Chapter Two-There You'll Be

Book: The Royal Heir

Liam x Riley

Series Summary: After losing the love of his life, Liam is left with a newborn daughter and a council that demands he endure another social season quickly. Not wanting to move on, he gets help from an unlikely ally-his late wife.

C/N: It wont always be like this, that's all I'm saying. This is angsty!!!

_____________

The capital city was peaceful as it laid under a veil of darkness. The moon glowed brightly in a cloudless sky, the stars glistened like clusters of white diamonds and sapphires and the ebb and flow of the Mediterranean tide gave off a calming lull. Spring was in full bloom and the typical, crisp night winds were just beginning to have a touch of warmth. It was a time for renewal and rebirth in Cordonia-tiny seeds and saplings sprouting into little blossoms.

Meanwhile, in a private, heavily guarded section of the hospital, was a room and a shattered heart. Monitors were shut off, silencing its deafening sounds, tubes removed, and lights dimmed to match the mood within its walls. Staff began collecting equipment and their distraught selves, leaving Liam behind to hover over Riley’s bedside, alone.

He couldn't take his heavily, tearful eyes off her, nor did he dare try. As he stood next to her bed in a complete daze, trying to make any kind of sense of what just took place, he reached out for her tiny hand. For a moment he just held it in his; rubbing his thumb gently along the outside of her palm, wanting desperately to feel her squeeze back, even if just slightly. 

This wasn't the first time he felt the consequences of an unexpected loss, yet, this...this was different than his mothers. The woman who gave him everything he ever dreamed of- the chance to be himself, an unconditional love, a real marriage and a family- was somehow gone. 

Liam leaned down and lifted the dainty hand he held in his, up to his lips, placing a soft kiss over her knuckles.

"And here we wait", Riley exclaimed as she leaned against the railing of the dock overlooking the water of the New York bay. The gusty wind blowing her brown hair in twists and twirls, sweeping across her face and covering the golden hue of her cheeks.

Liam stepped up beside her, gazing out at the near empty waters before quirking his brow at her, "For?".

Riley beamed enthusiastically tapping him lightly on the shoulder, "For a magical boat ride I've summoned just for you".

He brushes her pale, cool hand across his cheek, then holds it in place, memorizing how she feels- how she made him feel. Her engagement ring dimples his skin and he can't help but recall the night he gave it to her. 

His lips begin to quiver, feeling an ache in his chest he'd never felt before, "Riley'' he wails out, completely overcome by an increasing wave of grief, "darling, don't leave me". 

He turns her hand over and kisses the palm, his lips lingering along each crease and fingertip.  Lowering her hand and placing it gently across her stomach, draped by a white sheet, his eyes turn his gaze to her peaceful, face. Liam traces his thumb along her jawline, caresses her cheek, and trails his finger over her lips. 

Standing side-by-side on the deck of the boat Riley had miraculously summoned on his behalf, he reached for her hand,  “I want you to know that I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart”.

She laces her fingers through his, “You can live that way too.''

“If only. My whole life I”ve prepared myself to do what’s best for Cordonia”.

“Well...we’re not in Cordonia now…”, Riley wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, searching his eyes before meeting his lips with hers. They kiss passionately while the mist of the sea rains down on them. 

Liam smiles into her kiss, "You're full of surprises aren't you?"

She leans in for one more kiss and pulls away with a sly grin, "I try".

"I'm glad to have met you, Riley. I'll never forget this night”.

With both hands, he wipes away the tears that have drenched his cheeks and were hanging off his chin. He needed to be closer to her, to feel her body pressed against his and to hold her in his arms. Climbing into the bed beside her with very little room for himself, he rolled to his side and placed one arm under her and with the other, pulled her closer to him, cradling her head snuggly against his neck  Feeling her cold skin against his own flesh, Liam pulled the sheet up around her chest and wrapped her tightly in his arms. This was his Riley after all, he couldn’t help but want to protect her, keep her warm and feeling safe in his arms. He rested the side of his face on top of her head, breathing in the floral scent of her hair that was becoming moistened by the never ending tears that fell into them.

“My love...’, he swallowed between whimpers, his entire body quaking with grief, “I don’t know how to do this love...I don’t...I don’t know what to do without you”.

*****

Outside of her room, a despondent Bastien stood on the other side of the closed door. He could hear every sniffle, every agonizing moan and grief stricken sob that escaped from his King. He, himself, stunned by the entire situation and the loss of a young Queen who took Cordonia by storm. He pondered whether she had ever truly forgiven him for his part in the Applewood incident. Bastien was sure she had, she was always nothing but kind and respectful to him, yet, his regret for that ordeal crashed into his chest like a ton of bricks. 

He glanced over to dozens of guards,  watching over the door to the private wing, noticing that all their training in keeping their emotions in check were failing miserably. Bastien bit his top lip and inhaled deeply through his nose, attempting to maintain some composure, but, knowing this was the saddest situation he had witnessed since Jackson Walker’s death. He remembered the look on a devastated,  young Drake’s face when he told him his father had passed away. 

As if it were some cosmic joke, he turned to see a stunned Drake standing there, both hands in his pockets with that same look of denial again.

Drake knew by Bastien’s demeanor and that of the guards he passed coming in, what her status was, but wouldn't allow his heart to accept it. 

He approached Bastien wearily, breathing heavily from adrenaline and fear, “Where is she Bas, where’s Brook’s...I need to see her.”

Bastien gestured with his weepy eyes to the door and Drake stepped away from him to go inside, but, Bastien grabbed his arm to hold him back.

“You can’t go in there right now, Drake.’

Drake jerked his arm back, “The hell I can’t, she needs me...Liam needs me...and WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THE DOCTORS AT, she needs help?”

"Son, keep your voice down'' he muttered, pressing into Drake's chest to ease him away from the door and into the opposite wall. 

Bastien gripped both of Drake’s shoulders and looked into his troubled eyes with a sigh, “Drake..”

“Don’t...don’t you dare say it’, shirking away from him, nodding furiously, “don’t...she’s not…’, his voice becoming weak and raspy, “she not...gone”. Drake weaved around Bastien, gasping for words, his eyes welling up and raised his hand to Riley’s room. He pushed it in quietly, just enough to see his distraught best friend on her hospital bed cradling- his, Brooks. 

Drake reaches out and shoves Riley, who for a second, struggles to keep her footing before toppling over and landing on a soft snow drift.

“Hey!” she yells, prepared to give him a piece of her mind, however, stops herself when she notices the most star-filled sky she had ever laid her eyes on.  The stars shooting, light up the night.

“Drake...:”

He plops down next to her, “Yes, my lady?”

“This is absolutely gorgeous”.

Drake takes in a refreshing breath, “Nothing beats a clear view of the sky during a meteor shower”.

Riley smiles as she watches stars race across the sky; her eyes glistening with astonishment, “I’m glad I didn’t miss this”.

He huffs, “Really? Would’ve figured you’d rather eat bon-bons and dress up tiny dogs, or whatever shit Olivia had planned for the night”.

“Not exactly my scene”, she scoffs.

As they both stare up at the sky, the clouds start to creep across the stars.

“Looks like we were just in time to see this before the storm comes”.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to miss it”, he rubs a hand over his face, “I used to do this with my sister, Savannah, every year. We grew up around the royals. My dad used to do security for Liam and his brother, and my sister and I were allowed to hang out with them. My sister, she’s...she’s been through a lot”.

“Wow, did Drake Walker just open up to me, maybe trust me a little?”.

“I don’t trust a lot of people, Brooks, but maybe I do trust you”.

“Drake, that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to anyone”.

“Heh, maybe”.

As more snowflakes continue to fall, Drake sighed, “I better get you back. It’d be quite a scandal if I let one of the Prince’s suitors freeze to death out here on my watch’.

“I’d hate for my untimely demise to cause you any difficulty’, 

He stands from the snow, sweeping the flakes from his backside and extends his hand to Riley, “Let’s go back in”.

Drake’s body began to shake and his chest tightened as he closed the door back gingerly. He turned to face Bastien, feeling a weakness he hadn’t experienced in many years and fell limply to his knees.

********

Maxwell didn’t need an alarm clock to wake up, his energy and alertness kicked in at 5:00 every morning, ready to go. He threw the panda comforter Hana bought him for Christmas off and stretched heartily, contemplating whether to get in an early morning jog or eat a bowl of brownie ripple ice cream before feeding the peacocks. “It’s always the ice cream, ain’t that  right, Drake Jr”, he spoke to the guinea pig staring at him from its cage. He threw on a blue, cashmere robe to conceal his Batman boxers, since Savannah didn’t approve of him walking around naked in the estate. 

After using the restroom, he headed to the dark kitchen on the first floor, flipping on the lights and grabbing a serving spoon out of a utensil drawer. He stood in front of the open freezer door, trying to decide whether he wanted the brownie ripple or the mint chocolate chip, “what the hell, let’s live dangerously”, reaching for both of them. 

Maxwell flopped back on the couch with both cartons of ice cream and his serving spoon, sitting them both beside him before snatching the remote from the coffee table. He dug out a hearty spoonful of brownie ripple and licked on it while flipping through the channels.

“We have an unconfirmed report that the Queen of Cordonia has passed away unexpectedly. Sources right now are trying to reach the Royal Press office for confirmation”. 

Maxwell’s hand shook with panic as he flipped to the next channel and the next, each one reporting the breaking news alert with Riley face plastered in the backdrop.

He dropped his spoon in the container and tossed it off of him, desperately searching the pockets of his robe for his cell phone. When he found it, he pulled up his messages and found dozens of texts from reporters wanting him to confirm her passing.

“What the fuck is going on?”.

Maxwell flipped desperately to his contacts and tried to call Riley...no answer. He tried Liam several times, each one going to voicemail. Overwhelming fear set in as he pushed the number for Drake, hoping he may have heard something...anything.

Maxwell cleared his throat, a collection of bile had stifled his voice, “Drake, please tell me it’s not true”. 

What he heard was not what he wanted to hear; he didn’t end the call, just loosely allowed his phone to slip from his ear and crash to the floor,  his lip quivering, “Little Blossom”.

Maxwell watches a forlorn Riley waiting at the corner across from the bar he met her the previous night. After she gets  clearing to cross, he pipes up through the sunroof of the limo parked in front and waves his arms wildly.

“Riley!”, he shouts and she approaches him with a bit of confusion and hesitation.

“Maxwell, right?

“Yeah, I'm glad I caught you. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia”.

“Huh?”.

“You wouldn’t be allowed to join...but I wanted to sponsor you!”.

Riley furrowed her brow, “You...want to sponsor...me”, she snickered, “is this a joke?”.

“Nah, girl. I’m from a noble house, but I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone in contention to marry the Prince. Instead we can sponsor any girl we choose. And you’re my pick!”.

Riley shook her head, slightly taken aback, yet, intrigued by his proposal,  animated use of hand gestures and liveliness, “You want to sponsor me? Why?”,

“I’m not doing it for you. I saw how LIam looked at you last night. I’ve never seen him so happy. Honestly? I don’t want him to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour…”

Riley looks around at her bleak surroundings, shifting anxiously at the thought of seeing Liam again, getting away from the boredom and dread that had become her life, and the absolute hell that was waitressing at the bar that stood in front of her. She looked up at Maxwell, a large grin plastered on her face, “I”m in”.

“Yeah”, Maxwell pumped his fist in the air, causing the limo to bounce, “Go pack your bag. This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime”.

Maxwell glanced up at the fireplace, where a selfie of he and Riley posing with the mechanical bull at the American bar during Drake’s birthday, sat in a glittery frame. He felt the blood drain from his face, nausea building in the pit of his stomach and he bolted from the couch, “Bertrand!”

*******

Liam stayed with Riley for over an hour before kissing her once more, making promises to love her forever and take care of Ellie; hoping she would be everything her mother was.

He reached the door of her room and looked back once more as a nurse was carefully placing the sheet to cover her entire body. After exiting the room, he was met by Drake, who pulled him into a hug that didn’t end for several minutes while both wept into the other. 

The guards cleared the halls that led to a private exit, hoping to avoid any and all press or prying eyes. Bastien returned and escorted Liam and Drake through the cordoned off hallways and passages that led to a private car, so not to be followed. 

Liam’s mind was in a complete tailspin. Thoughts of what took place, how a young, vibrant woman dies suddenly without warning, and how the hell he was going to live the rest of his life without her. He was a King  without his Queen, a husband without his wife, and a father without the mother of his child. Nothing made sense, but there was no time to try to make any sense of it; he had a country waiting anxiously to hear word on the fate of his wife and a newborn baby that he was now the sole parent for. In all of his heartbreak, Liam wanted to run far away, to scream, to take all of his anger and grief out on something. 

Bastien maneuvered the car through the throngs of press and people that had amassed around the gates of the palace. Entering through the garage of the palace, he parked the car and Liam jumped out before the door could be opened for him. Drake offered to stay with him, but Liam heard nothing. He wanted to get back to his quarters as quickly as possible, away from everyone and the flurry of questions he had no answers for. This was a new life for Liam, one that he hadn’t fully digested yet, nor believed he ever would. 

He opened the door to his quarters, stepping slowly inside to the darkened foyer, passing listlessly through into the living room. Remnants of Riley scattered throughout from the pictures on the walls, her favorite throw blanket folded neatly on the ottoman, and a vase of purple lilies he bought her yesterday, adorned on the sofa table. Moving to the ottoman, he picked up the throw blanket and sat down on the sofa, lifting the blanket to his nose and inhaling sharply. Her scent lingering from the soft fabric and memories of her laugh, her giggles, the playfulness she exuded flooding through him. He gripped her throw tightly, slumping down onto the floor and began to sob uncontrollably into it. This was his reality, one that he would never accept. 

[serendipitykismet-moving]

Please Note:

Joey is a Biromantic Bisexual Male.

Kaiba is a Homoromantic Demisexual Male.

Elliot is a Homoromantic Homosexual Female.

Cashmere is a Pangreyromantic Demisexual Male.

I will not EVER break these characters identities for "the sake of a story". Please do not ask me to. If you are not someone they're attracted to or don't respect their boundaries as demi/gay/greyromantic they're going to be angry, and if you don't discuss it with me and make that intent clear beforehand, the mun will be too, because it's listed in the rules as well.

[serendipitykismet-moving]

Permanent Starter Call for Cashmere Cross!

Please like/reblog for a starter.

[serendipitykismet]

Cashmere Cross permanent Starter!

[serendipitykismet]

Mobile Information : Cashmere Cross

[Fandomless/Multifandom Original Character]

TW for mentions of Physical and Emotional Abuse, Gore, Cannibalism, body horror, 1700's ideas of women, gender issues and race.

Age: Appears to be in his early to mid-twenties. His exact age is 308/309.

Birthdate: Unsure

Nationality: American Race: Anglosaxton Spoken Languages: English (fluent but can be antiquated). Occupation: Unemployed. Height: Humanoid appearance: 5'6" ft / 167 cm Wendigo Posessed: 7'8" ft / 233 cm Weight: Humanoid appearance: 109 lbs / 49 kg Wendigo Posessed: 199 lbs / 90 kg Sexuality: Demiromantic Greysexual Physical description: Humanoid Appearance: Unnatural looking blue eyes, dark inky black hair, extremely pale skin. Entire body and face is extremely gaunt and sickly looking, and his clothes almost look like they could fall off of him at any given moment because they're too large for him. His eyes have developed a tapetum lucidum and reflect light in the dark. Usually depending on the time of day they reflect either a pale blue color or orange. His teeth are a bit uncanny-- not quite monsterous but not quite human either-- and they sometimes can look almost like the way shark teeth will layer as they fall out and grow back in. He looks much more fragile than he is -- and any scars on his body aren't typically visible for long unless they're fresh. Wendigo Posessed: A mass of knotted hair and his whole body smells like a bad mix of blood, decay, and wet dog. The body is guant and seems to warp and twist at the joints in ways that shouldn't be possible. It has a long neck and his face is hairless and bare like a vultures. It almost appears as if someone wrapped flesh around a skeleton or antler velvet over his face like it was latex. His eyes are extremely sunken in and due to this it, his eyes are usually shadowed and just are visible as their tapetum lucidum reflection. His frame is hulking and tall, quadripedal, and, again, appears more thin and fraile than it actually is. The physiology of the creature more closely resembles a deer than a human at this point. It's extremely dangerous to get close to him in this form as he no longer recognizes anyone as human, but his body is cold and feels corpse-like under the thick fur. His teeth are thin and extremely pointed-- almost like needles and resemble stalagmites with the way they layer and shape. His teeth are extremely easy to break because they are so thin, but they will eventually regrow. It's mouth produces a very unpleasantly sweet smelling saliva that is almost constantly seeping. It smells similar to rotting fruit and a very slight bit of that same blood and decay smell he always emits. Mannerisms: Cashmere has a sort of unending patience which allows him to be still for long periods when he's not feeding. His face is typically schooled into impassivity, occassionally showing the emotional wear of years of stress and trauma. Education: Only educated to around 6th grade level in the 1700s. Emotional and Mental Description: Cashmere is extremely isolationist, stand-offish, and volatile. He's got severe PTSD, and lives in near-constant fear of himself. He purposely seeks out the most uninhabitable environments, knowing it will lessen the risk of humans accidentally wandering into his feeding range and make it less likely that he will lose his carefully maintained control. It's almost like living in a constant state of sleep paraylysis-- only ever partially in control of his body and sometimes out of control entirely and unable to do anything but watch as he's forced to feed. Being surrounded by as much gore and violence as he has been exposed to, he's become sort of desensitized to the imagery of it, but it always weight a little harder because he knows that he's taking humans away from their families. He tries to force himself to feed only on animals, but there's only so much control he has. It's extremely hard to get close to him, and he lives in fear of losing those who do become close. He can be cruel and violent towards others though it's debatable how much of that is his doing and how much of it is the uncontrollable hunger that he feels. That being said, he's a mess, and those who do manage to get close are prone to be heavily relied on. Cashmere believes that, in a sense, believes that he's living his own personal hell and that he's being forced to relive the worst moment of his life. history Cashmere's parents were immigrant farmers from Portsmouth, Britain who arrived in Massachusets in the 1720's. While they lived a rather kushy life in England, in the states they were burdended with an infertile patch of land in an area with extremely hard winters. They were a very typical family of the time -- believing that men had a place in society and that women were homemakers. Cashmere was fairly isolated from the rest of his family-- his two eldest brothers still resided in the UK, and his parents were entirely unconcerned with his education and wellbeing. The member of his family he was closest with was his elder sister, Evelyn, who was still considerably older than Cashmere, but helped to raise Cash and do her best to encourage his curious mind and athletic behavior dispite his parents disapproval. In seeking to fill the financial disaster that they had been pulled into, they decided to use their youngest child -- at the time called Cassandra Cross -- as a bartering chip. This is how Cashmere found himself betrothed at the age of 16 to one of the richest and notoriously violent men in the settlement. His parents recieved a handsome dowry when he was married, but both Cashmere and Evelyn protested the marriage. The wealthy socialite that he was to be married off to had already been married twice before-- one of which who had died accidentally, and the other was never found, presumed dead. Their fears were well founded, and Cashmere quickly met resistance for his silver tongue and penchant to shrug off household chores in the form of physical abuse. Cashmere was trapped in the marriage for a few years, his will broken by fear. While his sister was solace and assistance, Cashmere was pushed to his breaking point. After being left black and blue a time too many, something inside of Cash snapped. While his husband sat eating at the dinner table, Cashmere cleaved a wood cutting axe into the back of his head as deeply as he could. The decision was impulsive, and panic set in nearly as soon as the deed was done. Under the cover of night, Cashmere sought Evelyn, and the two decided to flee. If they could get out of the settlement and migrate elsewhere, there was a chance that Cashmere could be spared being hung for the murder. Cashmere returned to his home one final time, retrieving a horse and carriage before setting the home ablaze in the hope that that would throw them off their tracks for the time being. Cashmere and Evelyn set off into the dense wilderness, seeking refuge elsewhere. Their plan may have worked, had their horse not broken its leg on the ruddy paths in the wilderness. The following days were a blur of greif for Cashmere, as his sister succumb to the elements and he was isolated without food in the dead of winter and alone in the the wilderness. His already frayed emotions couldn't handle starvation setting in-- and having already slaughtered his horse, he was forced to resort to cannibalism as his strength started to fail him, beginning his descent into the ravenous hunger that came with transformation into a wendigo-- though there was still much more to his story after that...

[serendipitykismet-moving]

What muse is most likely to draw out revenge for a long period of time?

     ||Also Kaiba, to be honest. Kaiba could sit on a grudge for literal years, and the object of his resentment might not even realize it until he enacts some kind of revenge. And he tends to hold grudges over the smallest things. My other muses aren’t usually too focused on revenge-- they’re forgive and forget type of people.

     I suppose that if I had to pick another one who did seek revenge, it would be Cashmere. He’s got a very long memory, and while it takes a lot of pushing to get him to that point, he could, quite literally, spend someone’s entire lifetime tormenting them over something if he wanted. It wouldn’t be hard because he’s definitely not going to be shy about using some pretty psychologically damning tactics. It’s pretty hard to think of something out of the scope of revenge for someone who eats people. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ||

[serendipitykismet-moving]

What muse is quickest to anger?

    ||If we’re talking in general, they’re all pretty terrible with their self control in that department in different ways. 

     I’d say if I had to pick someone who was the fastest, I’d have to say Kaiba-- he’s not a patient person and he’s pretty spoiled, so he can kind of... throw a fit when he doesn’t get things his way. It sounds silly, but Kaiba’s “fits” are no small thing-- he’s not a stomp his feet and pout type of person -- he’s going to make their life a personal hell if someone pisses him off.

     As for the others, I’d say Elliot is a pretty close second, then Joey and finally Cashmere. Cashmere, by far though, is the most dangerous one to provoke, because he’s the one that’s literally a monster.||

[serendipitykismet-moving]

General Blog updates!

|| SO, consider this a very very late spring cleaning, I suppose, but in the interest of not cluttering up my dashboard and cleaning up some straggler blogs, I’m going to be doing some rearranging.

1. I have added Cashmere Cross to the muse lineup as an active muse, as well as a couple of muses that I’ve played in the past that I consider to be highly selective. That being said, Cashmere is a muse that typically involves dark material. I highly suggest that if you are sensitive to the topics of Cannibalism, Violence, Blood, Gore, and physical abuse that you either blacklist Cashmere’s tag: “ cashmere || weepy chests with weepy sighs “ or either the specific trigger or tw: [[trigger]] IE “gore” or “tw: cannibalism”.

2. I will be deleting some of my “archived” blogs -- specifically @shakeyourbewdy is one of the ones with more interactions. Please archive prior interactions if you’d like to keep them, because it would be nearly impossible to transfer them to an archived blog without losing a few.

3. The muse list is being updated-- feel free to check the work in progress here if you’re curious. No muses will be removed, though some will have more information added or will be switching from “active” to “request only”. YGO muses have not changed, they’re both still active, as are my OCs.

4. Once the muse page is updated, I will follow up to note that the change has been made and that all updates are in place.

5. I may need to make additional tweaks to my rules page (again) because of the prior mentioned addition of cashmere, just to ensure that newcomers aren’t going to be hit out of nowhere with that content. The rule about having no images of “real” gore remains -- though there may be some images of simulated gore or horror which will be listed under the appropriate trigger warnings.There will still not be images of direct NSFW imagery, though there may be some mild nudity within tumblr guidelines. As always, NSFW writing will be tagged as “erotica”. 

6. The tag list will be updated (again) to reflect new possible triggers and new character tags. This will be AFTER the muse list update, though please keep an eye out if you need anything tagged or I may have missed a tag. The last thing I want is to not have something filtered that I should, so please don’t feel shy about asking.

7. The blog remains on Slow/Sporadic activity until further notice. I will open starter calls for Cashmere, but the same rules apply -- replies will most likely be limited to the weekend with asks or small interactions occasionally happening during the week.

I believe that’s everything? Though if anything else comes up I’ll be sure to mention it. Normally I wouldn’t go through all of this rigamaroll with bringing on new muses, but I felt it was pretty nesscessary with the kind of muse Cashmere is. Plus its a good excuse to just clean up in general. Hopefully no future updates will need to be this long. @.@ ||

[serendipitykismet]

Decided to get “official” suggested alignments for my characters!

From this test here. Feel free to do this for your own characters if you wanna but I’m too lazy to tag others.

Full info under the read more!

Seto

Chaotic Good*

A chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he’s kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. He hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. He follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of society. Chaotic good is the best alignment you can be because it combines a good heart with a free spirit.

Joey

Neutral Good

A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them. The common phrase for neutral good is "true good." Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias toward or against order.

Elliot

Chaotic Good

Cashmere

Chaotic Evil*

A chaotic evil character does whatever his greed, hatred, and lust for destruction drive him to do. He is hot-tempered, vicious, arbitrarily violent, and unpredictable. If simply out for whatever he can get, he is ruthless and brutal. If he is committed to the spread of evil and chaos, he is even worse. Thankfully, his plans are haphazard, and any groups he joins or forms are poorly organized. Typically, chaotic evil people can only be made to work together by force, and their leader lasts only as long as he can thwart attempts to topple or assassinate him. The demented sorcerer pursuing mad schemes of vengeance and havoc is chaotic evil. Chaotic evil is sometimes called "demonic" because demons are the epitome of chaotic evil. Chaotic evil is the most dangerous alignment because it represents the destruction not only of beauty and life but of the order on which beauty and life depend.

Avery

Neutral

A neutral character does what seems to be a good idea. She doesn’t feel strongly one way or the other when it comes to good vs. evil or law vs. chaos. Most neutrality is a lack of conviction or bias rather than a commitment to neutrality. Such a character thinks of good as better than evil. After all, she would rather have good neighbors and rulers than evil ones. Still, she’s not personally committed to upholding good in any abstract or universal way. Some neutral characters, on the other hand, commit themselves philosophically to neutrality. They see good, evil, law, and chaos as prejudices and dangerous extremes. They advocate the middle way of neutrality as the best, most balanced road in the long run. The common phrase for neutral is "true neutral." Neutral is the best alignment you can be because it means you act naturally, without prejudice or compulsion.

Leon

Neutral Good

Raihan

Neutral Good

*I don’t entirely agree with these two. I think the test doesn’t quite get the nuances of the two characters-- if I had to pick an alignment for them myself, Kaiba would be true neutral and Cashmere would be Chaotic neutral.

[serendipitykismet]

||Only just realized that I’ve never actually done a music drop for the songs that most of my character tags come from whoops. If you’re interested in a peek at my taste in music or are just curious they’re under the read more.||

CW for the lyrics and music videos because while I can’t remember them being all that intense, what I find triggering might be different from what you do.

Kaiba || piecing together the jigsaw of my failures

Elliot || I dont feel like dancin

Cashmere || Weepy chests with weepy sighs

Raihan || Pictures lit by electric lights

Noctis || im walking the long road watching the sky fall

Vincent || I could lay there forever 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62EpUuI4e1A

Bruno || Fill my veins with gushing gold

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jeo3an2M_Lo

[serendipitykismet]

General Tags

OOC || quick while no one else is looking

IC || Time for Scribblins

Aesthetics || Wishlists and bucketlists

Mun || About Whimsy

Crack || Chaos God Hours

Mobile info

Promo;;

Others promos

Queue

Character Tags

Active - Joey || I’m gonna duel to my last breath

Active - Kaiba || piecing together the jigsaw of my failures

Active - Elliot || I dont feel like dancin

Active - Cashmere || Weepy chests with weepy sighs

Active - Avery || set your life ablaze and seek those who fan your flames

Request only - Noctis || im walking the long road watching the sky fall

Request only - Vincent || I could lay there forever

Request only - Amaterasu || mother to us all

Selective - Bruno || Fill my veins with gushing gold

Selective - Risotto || I will see your end

Current Trigger Tags

erotica, nudity, tw: nudity, nsfwish, abuse, tw: abuse, gore, tw: gore, blood, tw: blood, body horror, tw: body horror.

Please ask me if you need additional triggers tagged. Keep in mind that this blog will never contain rape, incest or pedophilia per the rules, so you’re safe there without a dedicated tag.