#Forbidden Brewing Company

[ohcaptains]

𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬.

 pairing. anakin skywalker x f!reader 

synopsis. anakin finds loopholes in the jedi code.

warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. cock warming, p in v penetration but no movement. whimper-y anakin, if you move i'll leave the jedi order type beat.  

an. just a little something i wrote for the kinktober i never did. I thought i'd post instead of letting it collect dust in my drafts. the prompt was cockwarming! hope i did anakin justice<3 pls comment & reblog.

You find him at the window.

Sitting, with his thighs open and chest bare, staring out into the abyss. The night glints at the beads of sweat sliding down his chest, and his fingers drum endlessly against his thighs.

He heard you wake up, so he’s expecting your company, and has leaned back against the chair – thin black gown falling open – ready for you to climb all over him.

It happens often.

It’s not uncommon to wake up without him.

Most nights, you startle out of your slumber – as if even asleep, you’d sensed a shift – and blink at the space on the mattress beside you.

Finding him was easy.

You pad through the living room and wordlessly reach him in his post-nightmare state. His hair is tousled, sculpted chest is slick with sweat -- there’s an energy vibrating off of him, and you can taste it in the air.

Stepping behind him, you gently run the tips of your fingers over his shoulders, and the whirlpool in Anakin’s belly settles for a second. When you move into frame, it’s gone completely, replaced by a warm heat that has roots. He breathes a smile.

“Like clockwork.”

You give him a sheepish grin in return and fiddle with the fabric of your small nightgown. There’s a moment where Anakin gets to look at you – all sleepy and cuddly – and he’s ready to escape with you off of this forsaken planet.

His will holds strong.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” he asks, raising a scarred brow, and despite your groggy state, you still manage to roll your eyes. Stepping closer, you use his broad shoulders as anchors to slip onto his lap.

“Don’t make that face,” Anakin hushes, and while you settle back onto his thighs, his metal hand comes up. He traces the line of your jaw, “You know I let you do what you want.”

His spare hand steadies your hips, and it’s still warm from his lightsaber. Calloused fingers run over your skin, reminding you of the fight that’s leaving scars – the war that’s brewing, both inside and outside of his mind.

In moments like this, though, there’s a subtle calm.

An impenetrable force that hums over the pair of you.

You lean into his palm and whisper, “Not everything.”

There’s a haunted edge to your gaze, and your words are loaded. Anakin knows what you mean, knows all the intricacies of your subtle dig, and yet, he still manages to smile.

Well, smirk.

“What do you want? Just say the word.”

You wouldn’t, and Anakin knows that. He’s caught your bluff, and you manage a bashful smile before gently leaning forward, dragging your hips against his lap.  

Anakin’s cloth-covered thigh nestles against the thin fabric of your underwear. Your smile falters, lips parting. You push your forehead against his, and whisper, “If I say the words, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I know,” he breathes, “I know.”

I want more.

A life together, not stolen moments when the sun is down.

An attachment. A bond.

But it’s forbidden.

It’s why it can’t go any further than this.

“What’d you dream about?” you wonder. Anakin pulls his eyes away from you, instead looking to where his thigh sits. The silence is your answer.

“I’ll still ask, even if you never tell.”

He takes hold of your bare thighs, rubbing his hands up and down, and you hum his name, reaching out to push his hair behind his ears.

“Pretty boy.”

“Stop it,” he huffs, cheeks reddening.

But how can you? When he’s all sharp lines and long hair. You run your hands up the bare panes of his muscular chest, feeling the deft of his muscles, and the dampness on his skin.

The air changes – hums electric – and it buzzes as you push his gown off his shoulders.

Carefully, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss against his collarbone.

“That’s better.”

Anakin hums a laugh. His hands snake around to your lower back, dig into the fat of your ass, and using the grip there, he gently rocks you forward once, forcing your clothed cunt to drag against his muscular thigh.

You whimper. It’s quiet, but Anakin can hear it, even if it’s muffled by his shoulder.

“’ S’what you came out here for, huh?” he whispers. The electric flooding through the walls hums, but the room is still eerily silent. Anakin’s voice is a roar.

You lick your lips and drag your face up to see him. “No,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against his top lip, “I like being with you, even if we don’t do this.”

Anakin has to close his eyes. Words like those are fuel to the fire brimming in his chest, and it doesn’t help that you wrap your arms around his neck and fiddle with the tail end of his hair.

Arching your back, you slowly roll backwards, then forward, teasing the bulge between his legs.

Releasing a shaky breath, you repeat the motion, again, and again, near humping his leg.  

A familiar ache begins to swell, coiling between your thighs and up into your belly. It makes you clench around nothing, and you mewl quietly, wishing for more – always wishing for more.

Still, you continue, slick pooling into your underwear and against his thigh.

Anakin can’t look at you. If he sees your face, his resolve will falter.

His nerves are shot. If he couldn’t feel how wet you are, he could smell it, and it makes a groan bristle behind his teeth.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and busies himself with kissing at the soft shell of your throat, careful not to leave marks.

Once, you left a mouth-shaped mark against his stomach, and he looked at it every day for a week.

Caught himself with his top up in the mirror looking at the reflection, eyeing the way the mark sat on the firm lines of muscle, fading away with time.

A dark part of him wanted the mark on the slope of his neck.

“Wanna be inside of you.”

His admission rests heavily against your throat, and you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed.

Though, he does feel you tighten your grip on the back of his head. Feels you shift up against his thigh, and the warmth pooling in your underwear burns against him.  

He can sense you’re hesitant.

“’ can be like last time. Just – Just --” he stutters, licking his lips and struggling to release the words from the back of his throat. Finally, he manages. “--Sit on it.”

“Anakin.”

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“We can use it as an exercise.”

A laugh bursts from your throat, “To test your will?”

He smiles, and because you have to, you push your cunt against his crotch, uttering, “Want me to make It difficult for you?” and white flashes through Anakin’s eyes.

He grabs your hips to steady you, tensely pushing his fingers into your skin.

“Hardest challenge I’ll ever encounter.”

“You eager to impress?”

He kisses your jaw, “Don’t I always?”

“Mm,” you hum, cradling his chin. You shift back so he can pull his trousers down, and when you take his cock in your hand, he melts. His commanding aura switches for a moment, and you watch Anakin still his breathing.

You push your underwear to the side, and as you lift yourself to sink onto him, Anakin breathes, “Just the tip – just a little bit, j-just—” and he chokes on his words, gasping as you brush the leaking head of his cock through your folds.

You halt. Whimper. Have to grip his shoulder to steady yourself, or you’ll push him inside of you all at once and hurt yourself.

You inhale steadily.

“Have to – have to go slow,” you spurt, trying to calm your tremors.  

“It’s been a while since…”

You don’t have to finish your sentence. Anakin knows, and he feels a mix of pride and guilt. Only me, he thinks, and then, like a flash, only me, he swallows. And I can’t give her everything.

This. This is as far as it’ll go. He knows he’s pushing it. Knows that he’s come up with some convoluted rule to both have his cake and eat it too.

If he fucks you the way he wants to, he’ll fall in love with you. As if it hasn’t happened already.

Anakin has made lying to himself a speciality.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You stop. Pause and curse yourself.

A slow burn builds in your thighs, and you clench down to try and mediate the burn. Anakin grunts.

“Maker,” he utters. “Sorry—” you splutter, sucking in a tight breath.

Anakin wraps his metal arm around the back of your hips, hoping to steady you. “Lemme,” he mumbles, and gently, he flexes his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked pussy.  

Your lower abdomen immediately burns.  

He’s being calm about it – using all his training – but there’s nothing calm about the words trickling out of his mouth.

“Oh stars,” he groans, voice wrecked, “You gonna take all of me, sweet girl? Gonna let me fill you up?”

When you finally sink to the hilt, your resolve snaps. The pair of you moan out in unison, loud and high-pitched.

Anakin buries his face in your chest, and the heat of his mouth against your breasts adds to the tension coiling in your belly.

“Don’t – don’t move,” he grunts, and you shake your head, “I won’t – I’ll come on your cock if I do,” and you don’t mean to say it like that, don’t mean for the words to come out like that, but you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you, warm and hard and wet.

He manages to laugh.

“Tryna kill me,” he shakily breathes, shaking his head. His wet lips brush against your breasts, and you want more – want all that he can give you – so you clutch the back of his head, pulling him closer, hoping he gets the message.

His wet kisses make your skin prickle.

You’re full up. Can feel him stretching you out, this feeling something that’s only happened a few times before.

“If you move,” Anakin begins, out of breath, “I’ll leave the Jedi order and spend my days inside of you.”

“Don’t t-tempt me.”

He laughs, and you accidentally clench around him, causing him to groan deep and long against your tits.

“If you do that again, I’ll come inside of you.”

You imagine it. Imagine him spilling out, the wet white of it dripping out of your cunt and back onto his cock, and the mere image of it has your clit throbbing.

Keep still. Don’t move.

But he wraps his tongue around your nipple and begins to suck.

You cry out, and all of your muscles tighten, forcing you to clench tight around his cock. Anakin jolts and whines your name against your tits.

“S’your fault,” you mewl, moaning. You hang your head back, “Stars, Anakin.”

“Try and stay still,” he mumbles, and you stutter a laugh, “Impossible.”

“It can’t be,” he responds, and while he speaks in jest, his words are sincere. The line between love and lust runs thin, and if Anakin is being honest with himself, it’s close to snapping.

[hirukochan]

I feel cheeky sending another ask but I lived the interrogation one so much so just 3 so words: snape sex pollen. Perhaps a professor x professor?

(Ps: is their a place that I can support your writing!!!)

Snape x Professor sex pollen coming right up 🫡

Writing is one of my many beloved hobbies; liking, reblogging, giving kudos or commenting is all the support I need! Thank you very much for asking though!

Blue Speckled Mushrooms

(Severus Snape x fem!Professor oneshot)

Words: 2572

Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen :D - mutual dub-con, some biting, rough smut

Summary: In your continuing efforts to catch the grumpy Potion Master's attention you follow him into the Forbidden Forest - a mistake of perhaps destiny unfolding?

This is play post-war, Sev survives - not that it matters much to the 'plot'

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It could have been so easy. Gather these blasted Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms and return to the castle. It’s all he asks for. Moon Cornflowers and Speckled  Blue Mushrooms to finish the brew currently under stasis in his office. Two plants. Just a few of each. They couldn’t be preserved through either magic or other means and had to be harvested within three hours of being used in a potion and only during a full moon. 

Now usually this is no problem for an accomplished potion master such as Severus Snape. A quick trip to the forest and done. He knows the half-forgotten paths, the safe routes. Knows how to avoid the Centaurs and other nastier beasts that live in the Forbidden Forest.

He does not know how to avoid her.

Irritating, stupid girl.

She took over the History of Magic position earlier that year, one of Snape’s first students he taught after becoming a professor himself at merely twenty-one. A seventh year at the time who already stared at him in the library back when he was a student. 

She just wouldn’t leave him alone!

“Midnight stroll?” She asks with that irritating smile on her stupid pretty face and follows him into the forest.

“What do you want?!” He growls at her. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, keeps sitting next to him during meals or in the staff room, talking. Always talking. Talking talking talking. 

How can a single person be this annoying?

She is still talking. Jesus fucking christ!

“So anyway…what are you doing here?”

“I don’t see how that is of any concern to you.”

“Just curious, is all.” She replies. Stupid girl. And she is still following him!

You have no idea what to do anymore. You’ve tried everything. You’ve tried catching his attention by talking to him, leaving the top button of your blouse undone, batting your lashes at him like a teen on a love potion, you’ve searched his company, flirted like your stupid life depends on it and the cranky bastard doesn’t even recognise it! 

You run to catch up with his long strides, wrapping your cloak around yourself to shield yourself from the cold night air.

You were about to go to bed, just finishing up your rounds through the castle on the lookout for students out of bed when you saw his billowing cloak sweep out of the entrance door. You of course followed him. Curious as to what he was going to do outside but also secretly hoping today’s the day he’ll finally notice your intentions.

Perhaps you have to be less subtle. You thought men like to be subtly seduced but Snape is not like any man you’ve known! Maybe he doesn’t like playing cat and mouse, doesn’t enjoy the chase. 

You’ll be blunt! Yes, if a stroll through the forest at midnight doesn’t do the trick you’ll gather what little courage you have and just make the first step yourself. You’re an independent woman! You don’t need to wait around for Snape to realise you’re interested in him and make the first step.

“Are you gathering ingredients of sorts?” You ask and walk quicker to keep up, pressing your arm against his by walking closer to him. He glares at you.

“Obviously.” He snarls and looks forward again.

“Cool. cool cool cool….um…which ones?”

He audibly grumbles.

“Sorry, I couldn’t understand you.” You smile. He is making it very hard to be attracted to him. Grumbly bastard. Prickly idiot. Why can’t he just fuck you? Shove you into a broom closet and let out his frustrations if you’re so bloody annoying to be around! Why can’t you fall head over heels for someone normal?

Because normal is boring.

Your eyes glide over his sharp jaw, every muscle tensed, about ready to snap, beneath his pale skin that shines in the moonlight.

“I said, you were a daft, simple-minded girl when I had the misfortune of attempting to teach you potions - I very much doubt you’d understand any more now than you did seventeen years ago!”

His venom cuts deep. You stumble backwards. You thought he was clumsy when it comes to socialising, that he perhaps didn’t understand your intentions, not that he loathes you.

“Oh…” You murmur. “Um…okay…” don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heels and run. He calls after you but you ignore it, disappearing between the trees into the undergrowth, away from Snape because you are about to cry your eyes out like the stupid little girl he sees in you and you are not about to embarrass yourself any further than you already have! You just want to go back to your quarters.

Stupid girl! Insufferable, annoying, bothersome, foolish girl!

Snape runs after her. He considered leaving her to her own fate and capabilities and collect his ingredients but he had been cursed with a conscience. A nasty, biting thing demanding he not let her run to her death in an Acromantula den.

He’ll tear her a new one when he catches up to her! The sheer idiocy! Running into the Forbidden Forest like that! What possessed her.

“Stop running!” He snarls, draws his wand and sends a non-verbal Stupor at her. She stumbles and falls face-first into the flower field spreading over the clearing they had entered during their chase. Snape lifts his spell.

You spin around, furious. How fucking dare he? Isn’t it enough to insult you? Does he have to embarrass you by forcing you to bear your pathetic little hurt feelings to him?

He stands at the other end of the clearing, pale blue flowers reaching to his calves, emitting a gentle glow. He looks furious. The light of the full moon illuminates him from the back, deepening his already sharp features, cloaking his face and body in menacing shadows.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He snarls and points towards the direction you were running in. “Do you want to be eaten by enormous spiders?”

“Like you give a damn!” You shout and pick yourself up off the ground. Swiftly you brush loose dirt and a few pedals off your robes and out of your hair. The motherfucker stunned you!

“I might be a cold son of a bitch but I am not letting a colleague run to her death - no matter how annoying said colleague is. The way back to the castle is-” A wind picks up. His cloak flutters behind him, the fabric whispering with the motion. Pedals are ripped from the flowers.

His eyes widen.

You tilt your head to the side, brows pulled together. “Severus?”

“Stay where you are!” He hisses, sending droplets of spit flying. You look around, confused, searching the dark rows of trees for some beastly critter about to attack but you find none. Snape’s eyes are pinned to yours. His chest is heaving, his breath seems shallow. You take a step forward to which Snape instantly backs away, keeping his wand pointed at- you?

“What’s going on?”

“To the castle! Go back to the castle!”

“I am not your student! You can’t give me orders! And to think I’ve been trying to go on a date with you for months!”

“You have to go back to the castle now or- what?” His wand hand sinks a little. A crease forms between his brows. You’ve never seen Severus so puzzled.

“Year really…” You mutter. “Back in school too-”

“I am not in the mood for jokes or pranks.”

“It’s not!” You take another step forward. Severus’ back hits a tree. The wind picks up. A sweet scent reaches your nose, infiltrates your mind, swirls around your brain like vapours of a potion-

Weren’t you cold?

You were! Yes, you were- but it’s so hot- when did it get so hot?

“Stop that!” Snape snarls again.

“Stop what?” You roll your eyes and pause- your cloak lies in the flower field three steps away from you. You have unbuttoned your robes, revealing the white blouse and dark trousers underneath- when-?

“Go. back.” He has his jaw clenched, teeth pressed together. His nostrils flare, his eyes flick down to your chest and he seems to struggle to force them back up.

“Are you hot too?” Your fingers pry open the buttons of your blouse without you even noticing or you’re just not thinking about it…

“Go-”

“What’s happening?”

“Pollen-”

“What?”

“Where you shit in Herbology too?!” He snaps and you glare at him about ready to-

Your blouse slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground. “Stop- you don’t want this-”

“What? What is this?”

“A rare flower.” His voice sounds pressed, as though he’s struggling to speak, to breathe, to exist. He has his back moulded to the tree, clutching at the bark with his hands, straining to keep his eyes on your face.

The button on your trousers is open.

“The pollens they emit to the air to spread and form these dense fields- they have a unique effect on humans-”

“Which effect?”

“Can’t you tell, stupid girl?”

Your trousers push past your hips.

“You should be running from me, not stripping for me.” His eyes graze over your body, standing in front of him in only your underwear, devouring the sight. His eyes trace along the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake…Heat rushes to your core.

“Sex pollen-” You gasp, noticing you’re standing a mere arm's length away from him now.

“The rather crude colloquial name - yes.”

“Severus- what-”

“Too late, stupid girl.” He snarls and the next moment he’s on you, pouncing at you like a wild beast. His woodsy, herbal scent flows around you, mixing with the sweet smell of the damned flower. His hands grip your arms roughly, blunt nails dig into your flesh. Severus swirls you around and pushes you against the tree. Bark scratches against your skin, stabbing into it but you don’t even notice.

It’s like a trance has taken over your mind and only one thing matters. 

He.

Severus’ mouth latches onto your throat. A million tiny explosions rush over your skin where he touches you and you moan, a feral sound ripped harshly from your throat, echoing over the empty clearing. Severus growls in response, even more feral, even less human. His teeth scrape over your throat. His hands roam over your body, squeezing your breasts, your thighs. Then he tears at his own clothes, shedding layer after layer with a quickness and urgency that has your head spinning.

“Stupid girl.” He repeats and kisses up to your jaw, your cheek. Heated, open-mouth kisses that leave your skin marked by his saliva. 

You place your hands on his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto, something to pull you back into reality, your head spinning, skin exploding, core hurting. You’re so aroused, so need it fucking hurts.

“Severus-” You moan. His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around him on their own accord.

“You should have run when you still had the chance.” He snarls against your lips, his breath brushes over your skin. “You’ll regret this.”

“Shut up and fuck me, you prick!”

Your lips meet in a violent clash of teeth and tongue. You’re pretty sure he bites you or perhaps you bite him. None of it matters anymore when you feel his prick against your soaked entrance. You’ve never been so wet- never so wound up- so desperate for sex-

You cry out when he enters you, a forceful thrust that buries him to the hilt in your twitching channel. He is big. Too big under different circumstances perhaps. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pounds into you, spearing you open, using his grip on your waist to bounce you on his cock in sync with each of his thrusts.

You cling to his shoulders, your nails drawing blood, fingertips running over old scars, exploring the surprisingly defined muscles of his lean stature.

Your breasts bounce, rubbing against his naked chest, his lips lay claim to yours, your face, your neck, your chest.

He stumbles, his left side giving in and you tumble to the ground. You’ve seen that happen before. The venom of you-know-who’s snake has left him with some permanent damage, not only the huge scar on his neck.

You don’t care.

You push him down to the ground, your hands on his chest and move your hips, lifting them, letting them slam back down, riding him. You throw your head back, your eyes closed, lips parted as his cock drags along your inner walls with delicious friction.

“So- so full-” You moan. Your breasts sway. Severus catches them, squeezing them with such pure delight on his usually reserved face. He twists your nipples between his fingers, revelling in the noises he coaxes from you.

“You could have had this so much sooner, idiot.” You hiss and grind down against him before lifting your hips up once again.

“Wha-?” His puzzled expression is almost cute.

“I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out for months!” As though to reinforce your discontent with his lack of romantic interest you pick up your pace. His head drops back into the flowers. The pale blue petals glow in his inky black hair.

“How was I supposed to know?” He asks, bucking up to meet your movement.

“I was flirting!”

“I thought you were acting especially stupid for some reason.”

“Arsehole!” You dig your nails into his chest but Severus seems to like that. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips part, pleasure drawn into every wrinkle of his face.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“I’d have called you stupid. Perhaps laughed at you. Slip poison in your tea.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do.” 

Quicker than you can follow his movements you’re underneath him and your legs on his shoulders. Your head is still spinning when Severus starts pounding into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the clearing, accompanied by your and Severus' animalistic, feral sounds of pleasure.

“I don’t-” You moan and dig your fingers into the dry soil underneath you.

“I know.”

“You’re supposed to say me neither.”

“I do whatever the fuck I want, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

His balls slap against your arse. His hand drops between your bodies, his fingers find your clit, run over it once- twice-

You see stars. Dots of light exploding all over your field of vision and pulling you into darkness, bringing the complex system keeping your body alive and moving to an abrupt stop. Your lungs refuse to fill with air, your brain crashes, your limbs tense, your whole body forced into a contortion made of carnal desire and the world-ending pleasure Severus Snape brings you.

You twitch. Then you inhale sharply, filling your lungs with air, shuddering, whimpering under Severus who spills inside you with an ear-splitting grunt and then slumps down above you. On top of you. Your legs found the ground somehow. His cock still inside you, throbbing, slowly softening, you lay in the dirt like a starfish, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed and confused.

“Friday.” Severus murmurs, his lips brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “Dinner. Be ready on time or I’ll leave without you.”

“Mh?” 

“You really are dense." He grumbles. "Your date, stupid girl. Friday.”

[xxxanteaterxxx]

Furry Friends

remuslupin x femwerewolf!reader

CW: Cussing, not much else, two werewolves meet.

Lemme know whatcha think!

Remus Lupin had been attacked by a werewolf at the age of 4 years old. He was quite used to the aches and pains that came before and after each full moon. He was used to doing it alone, and now he was lucky enough to not have to be alone.

After finding out about his Lycanthropy in their second year at Hogwarts, his friends had always made sure that he had someone to clean him up and take care of him. Then, in their fourth year at Hogwarts, his group of friends went through the long process of becoming Animagi to keep him company during the transformations.

All in all, Remus Lupin loved his friends and the little pack they had formed. He was lucky to have them, and he knew that very well.

What he didn't know was that he was not the only lycanthrope at Hogwarts.

You were 13 years old when you were walking home from a friends house one summer. It was hot and you had been sweating, pushing your hair away from your face in an attempt to cool yourself. You had denied your friends parents on their offers to take you back home, telling them that it was only a short distance away and that you would be completely fine.

And you were, until you were only ten minutes away from your house. You remembered hearing a growl from somewhere off to your left and you paused not daring to look in the direction it had come from. A couple of minutes passed in silence, and you felt safe enough to start walking again. Oh, how wrong you had been.

You remember claws digging into your back and teeth sinking into your shoulder. The pressure was immense on your 13-year-old frame. You couldn't move, you could only scream until it decided it was done mauling you and ran away.

Your parents had been waiting for you at the back of your house, and when they heard your screams, they took off. They found you, bleeding out from what was obviously a werewolf attack. Only 13 years old, and your father scooped you up, tearing up at the way you continuously flinched in his arms. Luckily your mother was an experienced healer, treating your wounds and saving your life.

That summer was spent learning how to brew wolfsbane and your parents exchanging letters with the Headmaster at Hogwarts, ensuring that you would be able to return to school next fall.

That was in your third year of school, now you were 16 and it was your sixth year. That meant three years of painful transitions, three years of hiding from your friends so that they wouldn't find out, and three years of hiding yourself way deep in the Forbidden Forest so that you would not be spotted or have the potential to hurt someone.

It was the day of the full moon, and you looked quite sickly as usual. You were sneaking down to the kitchens to avoid the great hall and in turn avoid your friends. It was what you had been doing since you were attacked and had returned to school.

You were not expecting to see three sixth years on your way down there. They were obviously on their way back from the kitchens, carrying trays of breakfast food. You didn't look at them, but you know they were looking at you. You could feel their eyes on your form as you stumbled into the kitchens.

The house elves were quite accustomed to having you pick up your meals from the kitchens two day out of the month and you had made quite good friends with some because of that.

Smiling weakly at them and asking about their days as you grabbed your tray and them bidding them farewell with the promise to return tomorrow morning.

You weren't expecting the three boys to still be in the hall having what they thought was a private conversation, but thanks to your advanced wolfy senses you could hear them quite well, even from a few paces away. You weren't worried and didn't really care about what they were whispering about. Until you realized they were talking about you.

"Look at her pads, she all scared up just like moons." A tan boy, with an unruly mop of hair was whispering urgently. Like he was trying to get a point across. You tensed up, this was not good. You tried to make it seem like you were relaxed and couldn't feel their eyes on your frame.

It wasn't working.

"Do you seriously think we wouldn't have run into her already? We've been doing this for years mate, and we've never come across another on school grounds." A boy with fair skin and longer, black hair that hung to his shoulders replied. You could tell he wasn't really interested, but his eyes stayed locked onto your frame.

You felt yourself relax a little. Then, you thought about what they were saying. Could there be another lycanthrope at Hogwarts? Surely not, but at this point nothing would surprise you.

You didn't have the time of strength to care, you needed sleep because you were going to be up all night.

A groan escaped your lips as you finally sat made it back to your dorm. Your bed waited for you, like an old friend offering a comforting embrace. Who were you to deny it, reaching over and setting your alarm to wake you up an hour before the sun set.

The sound of your alarm pulled you from your nightmare infested sleep. It was normal for you to experience restless sleep in the days leading up the full moon. Groaning you sat up; a few girls were in the dorm reading or whispering to each other. They smiled at you and watched as you reached under your bed to pull out your overnight back. One of the girls grinned salaciously.

"Heading off to that secret partner of yours, eh?" A few of the other girls giggled and cheered at that. It was a running joke amongst your dormmates that your were sneaking off to meet with a romantic partner on the full moons. It was better than the truth, so you played along.

"It is that time of the month." You responded with your own grin and a brief shrug of your shoulders. Standing up and laughing along with a few of them.

"Well, as always sweets, stay safe and use protection!" She sang as you walked out of the dorm, shutting the door. Muffled giggles flowed through the door. You were glad they never bothered to really care where you were going.

The walk to the forbidden forest was always quiet and quite strenuous if you were not accustomed to it. Luckily, you had been doing it for years.

You failed to notice the stares of a group of four boys as they made their own way to the Shrieking Shack. Although your senses were heightened, you were in a hurry and very sore and tired. You failed to hear what they said about you.

"I bloody told you Padfoot!" James cheered, slightly excited at the fact that Moony could have a werewolf friend. Sirius rolled his eyes and kept moving forwards, grumbling under his breath but not taking his eyes off of you.

How had they never noticed you before? Were you just that good at hiding it, or was it something else completely? He didn't have time to ponder as Remus groaned in pain next to him.

The transformation was always painful and by the time you had made it to your spot, it was already starting. You dropped your bag and hunched over. Groans escaped you as tears filled your eyes. you hated this, hated yourself for being this. No matter how many times you went through this, it always hurt just the same.

The first snap of bone could be heard, and a scream escaped you. White hot pain flooded your senses, and your tears finally escaped your eyes. More bones snapped and rearranged themselves to take a different shape. The feeling of your organs shifting and hair sprouting from different spot across your body. You screamed again, and midway through it turned into a different sound, it turned into a howl.

The moon caught your attention, silencing you as your werewolf stared up at it in wonder. The moon was so beautiful, at least it was in this form. When you were in your human form, you despised the moon. It scared you even.

The sound of howling somewhere in the distance caught you and your wolf attention. The wolfsbane helped you to be in control of yourself during the transformation, but it did not mean that you would always win against the stubborn wolf you shared a soul with. Luckily, she wasn't murderous. She was strictly curious about the sound and she loved to explore and play with the animals that inhabited the forest.

You didn't have to go very far before you froze, your eyes locking onto what appeared to be a werewolf, a dog, a deer, and... was that fucking rat? You could have laughed at the scene if the other animals hadn't set their sights on you.

Oh shit.

The other, obviously male, werewolf bolted towards you. Your wolf let out an embarrassing shriek before turning and running. You couldn't even turn around to check if that motherfucker was still behind you, and then you realized that he was.

That was mainly because he jumped you. Your form crashed into the ground, dirt flying everywhere, and you could not help the pathetic whimpers that slipped out of you. The fear was truly paralyzing.

You were going to die, this was it. You just knew it.

There was no growling though, and after a few minutes of him sniffing you, the weight on you back was gone. You let out a relieved huff. You were quick to stand and turn around, coming face to face with the group of misfit animals. The other werewolf was standing beside you proudly, showing off his newest friend to the others.

The werewolf turned to face you, yipping and yapping. It was easy to tell what he wanted, he wanted to play.

And all of a sudden, so did you.

So, you took off again, yipping as you heard him take off after you. You knew the others were following and you could see the other wolf coming up in your peripheral, you shouldn't have been surprised he was much larger than you.

What did surprise you was the feeling of the black dog being the one to tackle you this time. You didn't crash as hard this time, and you were more careful to not cause the smaller animal harm as you rolled around.

That was how you spent the rest of the night, running around and playing tag and rough housing with the other animals. Not the rat though, he gave you a strange vibe and you didn't want to accidentally eat him.

A groan escaped you as you woke up, this was different than normal. You weren't laid on the ground, there was no soil, and it was not as cold as it normally was. Where the fuck were you?

Taking a chance, you peeked an eye open coming face to face with a sleeping boy. You knew him, not well, only in passing. You were in the same year, but you did not recall having any classes with him. What was his name?

You realized very quickly that you were on a bad. Then you heard the sound of hushed whispers from the other side of the room. You sat up, blinking owlishly at the three boys from the kitchens yesterday. You didn't say anything, only wincing at the ache in your body as you moved to stand up. Someone cleared their throat.

"You should just rest-" You cut whoever was speaking off by raising your hand and standing up, leaning back to stretch. That was when you realized that someone had dressed you. A furious blush began to make its way over your face.

"This isn't my first transformation, so I assure you that I am quite alright." You paused, turning to face them and winced when your pain finally started to settle in. You could tell exactly where you would be having knew scars. "What I want to know is which one of you brought me here and who dressed me?"

Now it was their turn to blush, and the one with glasses raised his hand. You almost smiled when you realized that it was shaking slightly.

"We couldn't just leave you out there! You should be thanking us." The boy with longer hair grumbled, causing the other two to look at him in disbelief. You chuckled and shook your head, making your way closer to them.

"What do you think I normally do? Hm?" You questioned, watching as he seemed to debate his answer, you cut him off before he could respond. "No worries, I appreciate the thought, but it would seem that your mate is waking up."

That seemed to draw their attention and so you began looking around for your bag. You still didn't know where you were, you weren't worried though. You never went to classes the day of or the day after, so it didn't matter much.

"Who is that and why is she here?" You heard a sleepy grumble, causing you to turn to the now awake boy. He seemed very nervous and then you realized that he didn't remember.

"Moons, this is- ah what's your name?" You laughed at that, watching as the smaller blonde boy smiled at the sound.

"I am Y/N, and I am going to assume that you've never had wolfsbane?" You asked him, and watched as confusion washed over his face. "No problem, I'll owl my parents and ask them to brew you some when they make mine."

You walked closer to the bed, still in search of your bag that would hopefully have a pair of shoes. He was still staring at you like he didn't know what you were talking about.

"She's got a furry problem too Moony." The longer haired boy whispered and watched his friends face. Moony, as they called him, seemed to understand then.

"What does wolfsbane do?" The boy who had dressed you asked. He seemed genuinely curious.

"Well, it helps with the pain, but not much. Mainly, it helps you to stay conscious during the full moons." You took a breath and grinned when you found what you were looking for. "My parents started brewing it for me after my attack and I'm sure they wouldn't mind brewing some for you as well."

Pulling your shoes on and giggling at the look on their faces. You stood back up and pulled your bag over your shoulder, you needed a fucking bath.

As if realizing you were about to leave the boy sat up completely.

"Wait!" He called, he seemed nervous. "You're not going to say anything, right?" You looked at him like he had grown to heads. Then, you chuckled and walked back over to the bed.

"Course not! Why would I?" You sat down next to the small blonde one. "Besides I need some furry friends!" You cheered before standing up and reaching into your bag and pulling out two chocolate bars. You toss one towards him and open the other one for yourself.

"I'll catch you lovely chaps later!" You call as you walk out the door. What a strange fucking night.

[black-amortentia]

Such a Fall of Snow | Frost - Snolidays 2023

Severus Snape x Professor!Reader | Warnings: Secret relationship, just fluff, barely proofread so please excuse mistakes!

This is my story for week one "Frost" of Snolidays 2023! I decided to take all the prompts together and use them to inspire one little story.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

--

Anticipation for Christmas buzzed in the air of the Three Broomsticks, and the Hogwarts faculty were falling under the spell of merriment. Even the unsettling presence of Severus Snape couldn't dull the smiles of the teachers gathered for drinks. His presence earned a few surprised glances. No one expected Snape, of all people, to attend. They would never guess the real reason.

He was here for you.

Severus sat at the end of the table. Easy to slip away when the time came, and he could only have one person sit beside him. The only person he wanted beside him.

Minerva looked at you a few times, almost as if she was sorry you sat next to the most miserable man in Hogwarts. She didn't know you were exactly where you wanted to be. You and Severus were masters of discretion, after all.

You practically ignored Severus as you joked with your fellow professors. But underneath the table, your knees touched. That little shared warmth, the bit of intimacy that was your well-kept secret.

Three butterbeers in, you were happily enjoying the festive air. Severus had been nursing the same glass of wine since he'd arrived, sporting the same unamused look. He could never admit to the joy your smile conjured within him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Severus tip the wine glass back, draining it. He set it down quietly. Severus's warm hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. Firm. Lingering. His signal that he was about to make his escape.

Then he was gone. You tried not to shiver at the absence of his warmth at your side. No one else noticed that he’d left, his preference, of course, and you didn’t call attention to it.

Quite some time passed, you weren’t sure how much, while you enjoyed making merry with your fellow professors. Soon, you had enough of their company. There was someone else you were eager to spend time with.

After making your own excuses, you rose from the table, rosy-cheeked and cheerful. Outside, the buildings lining the streets of Hogsmeade cast a warm glow onto the frost-covered lanes. The door shut behind you, muffling the hum of noise from the pub. The hush of cold, quiet darkness filled your ears.

"You took your sweet time," drawled a voice behind you.

With a little gasp of surprise, you turned to see Severus standing in the shadow of the pub. His pale face was the only thing you could see at first, his black cloak blending in with the darkness.

"I was having fun. Just because you loathe the company of everyone around you…"

"Not everyone."

Severus fell into step beside you as the two of you set off for Hogwarts. His cape billowed, a shield against any prying eyes who might look this way. He walked close to you, the back of his hand nudging yours but making no move to grasp it.

Always holding back.

"Not that anyone would know," you commented.

There was this side to Severus, a side he let no one but you see. You couldn't pinpoint what you'd done to earn the privilege, suspecting it was a dozen little things since you'd become colleagues. “Severus ‘Humbug’ Snape has a reputation to uphold.”

You blamed the playful words on the butterbeer.

His eyes flashed at your jest. “I prefer to keep my business private. That is not a crime.”

You watched him from the corner of your eye. You knew there was more to it than that. Severus kept a tight leash of control over his emotions at all times, even moments like this when it was just the two of you. You respected him too much to question him, which he appreciated. It was one aspect that made this thing brewing between you work so well.

“Come on, let's take the long way back. By the Forbidden Forest.”

The path was dark, seldom used, unlit. Private. By now, you knew it like the back of your hand, the number of times you and Severus had used it.

The flush of the drinks you had in the pub was wearing off, the chill of the dark night raising shivers over the bare skin of your neck. Few high collars in your wardrobe, something you were coming to regret.

“You’re cold,” Severus commented, noticing the slight change in the way you stood.

He unwound his black scarf from his neck and wrapped it around yours. Severus's hands lingered over your skin as he moved, the brush of his fingertips sending a different kind of shiver through you. The dark woolen fabric, still warm from Severus’s own body heat, settled comfortably against your skin. His scent wafted from it, tickling your nose.

Even though Severus finished wrapping the scarf around your exposed neck, he wasn’t ready for his hands to leave you. They made a home on your shoulders, light and ready to flee at any moment.

Your voice was soft when you thanked him, meeting his dark gaze as it bore into yours. You knew what you wanted. You guessed he wanted the same. Your lips parted as you looked up at him, your subtle invitation. Severus accepted.

His lips came down on yours, gentle yet fervent, knowing what he wanted and somehow afraid to take it. Your mouth moved against his, drawing him deeper into the kiss, hand clutching the front of his robes. His control slipped just enough, and he let himself claim you. A soft nibble on your lower lip made you gasp, and the resulting exploration of his tongue made your knees tremble.

In the shadow of the Forbidden Forest, your only witnesses were the creatures that dwelt within. None of them bothered you, and your kiss with Severus intensified, his hands finding your waist and hip, pulling you flush against him.

You run out of breath first and lean back, but Severus’s kiss simply moves down your neck. After he elicited some delicious noises from you, nibbled a small mark on you that you’d have to hide later, he finally came up for air. Severus cupped your face in his hand, staring into your eyes. The only sound you heard was that of your racing heart and Severus’s labored breaths.

“I wonder if anyone has noticed we’re missing.” Your words broke the silence, and Severus bristled slightly. “Should we head back?”

“We could stay a little longer.” Severus’s voice was barely audible, almost as if he didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t ready to let you go.

Wrapping your arms around Severus, you laid your head against his shoulder. He stiffened at first, and then you felt him relax under your touch. His arms tightened around you, cradling your head, stroking your hair. He exhaled, a seldom heard sound of contentment, his breath ruffling a stray lock by your forehead.

Even as white dusted your clothes, stark against the black robes and black scarf; even as the fresh snowfall covered the tracks you made earlier, Severus did not let you go.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Gentle

@jegulus-microfic May 11, Word count 790

Previous part First part

James and Regulus avoided each other for the next few days. James hadn’t said anything to the others about their meeting on the quidditch pitch or what happened in the come and go room. All they knew was that he was meeting him on Wednesday. 

James paced back and forth in front of the wall on the seventh floor. The wooden door appeared and he went in. This time there was a sofa in front of the fireplace. James flung himself on it and waited for Regulus. 

Apparently it was comfortable as he’d dozed off. He woke when Regulus walked in and questioned the room.

“James?” He asked, his voice tinged with confusion. Regulus was slightly late and James should have been there. 

James stuck his arm in the air and waved as he yawned loudly. 

“Over here,” Regulus walked around the sofa and James waved his hand in front of his mouth as he yawned again. “Right so,” He began as he sat up and spun his legs to the ground. “While you have the mandrake leaf in your mouth you don’t need to do anything but keep it there. The more fiddly bits come after.” Regulus sat next to him and listened intently. “When you take it out you’ll need to take one of those phials and make sure you do it under the fun moon. We’re going to keep Moony in these next two moons, but I’m going to keep you company just in case he gets out, which he shouldn’t.” James reiterated. “We have to let him out, he can’t do it on his own. Then you put the leaf in the phial along with some of your hair.”

“My hair? Like polyjuice potion?” Regulus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“Yeah, kind of. I suppose it’s so the spell knows it's about you. I’m going to go into the woods about a week before because I need to collect enough dew for seven teaspoons from somewhere that’s never seen sunlight or had human feet near it. Luckily, deer hooves don't count.” He grinned at Regulus. “It was a nightmare when we did it. Peter kept standing in the places we wanted to collect the dew from, so we ended up leaving him tied to a tree while Sirius and I went to gather the dew. It would have been fine if his screaming hadn’t made an Acromantula curious. We were lucky to get out of there.”

“Wait, there’s Acromantula in the forbidden forest, and you willingly go in there.” He looked at James as though he was mad. “Well, as long as you don’t go near the nest they tend to leave you alone. Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah, so seven days of putting the dew in the phial, and then we need to find a Death’s- head Hawk Moth Chrysalis from somewhere. That’s going to be hard. And then that's it for the potion. I’ll tell you the rest later, but for now that's what we need to concentrate on.” It was a lot of information, but James didn’t doubt for a second that Regulus had absorbed every word. 

“The Death’s- head Hawk Moth Chrysalis is easy.” Regulus told James with a smug grin. “Professor Slughorn has given me a key to his private stores to use as I like.” James’s jaw dropped in awe. 

“How did you manage that?” 

“I’m an excellent potioneer, and I told him the student stores didn’t carry the ingredients I needed for the more advanced potions I wanted to brew, so he gave me his spare key and told me not to tell anybody.” Mischief flickered in his eyes, just like Sirius’s did. James was more than impressed. 

“Devious little snake,” He said, winking to soften his words. 

“Foolhardy lion,” Regulus shot back, but his voice was almost gentle, taking all the bite out of it. James laughed and threw his arms behind his head as he relaxed in to the sofa. 

“That's me,” He grinned broadly. “Well, I suppose that's it then. On the next full moon, I’ll meet you outside your common room again and take you outside. You could do it from a window, but it’s best not to take chances and, anyway, you’re in the dungeons, so no windows any way.”

“Just because you live like an owl, Potter.” Regulus sniped back, but again the venom was gone. 

They sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence watching the flames flicker in the fireplace before Regulus got up and left. 

“See you in a few weeks then, I guess,” Regulus said before he went through the door. 

“Yeah, sure.” James replied. And that was that. They didn’t talk much until the next full moon. 

Next part

[ginxyy]

Closet Confessions

The holiday party at the company was supposed to be a straightforward affair some cheesy holiday music, questionable punch, and forced small talk with people I had only ever exchanged post-it notes with. Yet, as I stood there trying to look as festive as possible in my ugly Christmas sweater adorned with blinking lights, it became clear that the night would take a turn I had not anticipated. And let me clarify: when I say "turn," I mean a full rollercoaster loop-de-loop with enough ups and downs to make even the bravest stomach churn.

Let’s rewind just a bit. Minghao and I had been dancing around our chemistry like two awkward penguins on a date. Every subtle glance he threw my way was met with a blush that I swore could outshine Rudolph's nose. We'd spent countless hours together, from late-night work sessions to sharing awkward coffee runs. Our banter had evolved into something flirtatious, the kind that had me imagining romantic dinners and maybe a pet goldfish named Snickers. But that was merely the underlying subplot of our forbidden love story, considering we worked for a company that thrived on repressing such ... unprofessional, romantic antics.

As the night wore on, I felt liberated by the festive spirits and a couple of cups of holiday punch that I definitely did not need but couldn't resist. In moments of merriment, I caught Minghao's eye through the crowded hall. He was, as ever, dressed impeccable his designer jacket hugging his frame like it was tailored by a world-renowned seamstress specifically for the occasion. He raised an eyebrow and gave me a grin I can only describe as "dangerous." That’s when I knew something exciting was about to happen, and not in the holiday-movie way either.

After what felt like hours of enduring office chit-chat, I decided to snag another drink from the refreshment table. But just as I turned around, a hand grabbed my wrist, and the next thing I knew, I was being pulled to the back of the hall. Mingho’s eyes danced with a mischievous light, his grip firm yet gentle, leading me toward a door marked “Storage Closet.” In my inebriated state, I did not fully process the implications of our destination. Perhaps if I had, I’d have taken a moment to stumble through the myriad of potential consequences. Instead, curiosity trumped caution, and my heart raced like it was gearing up for the Olympic sprint.

Once we were inside the closet—which, to be fair, did not inspire confidence; it was cramped and filled with half-eaten holiday baskets and the remnants of last year’s Secret Santa gifts—Minghao immediately closed the door behind us. My brain fuzzed with a cocktail of excitement and confusion. This hadn’t exactly been what I imagined my evening would entail, but who was I to complain?

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like to get caught in a storage closet?” he asked, leaning against the wall like he owned the place—or like he should’ve been getting a bonus for risking his life in it. His breath was warm against my skin as he leaned close, and I could barely hear the muffled sounds of the party outside.

My cheeks flushed an alarming shade of crimson as I tried to work up a witty comeback but settled on the sagely “Uh, no?” instead. It was official; I had turned into a total mush-brain around him.

Before I could gather my thoughts and eek out some semblance of coherent speech, he reached for me, hands resting on my waist, pulling me closer. “Well, I think we’d be pretty scandalous,” he said with a smirk that suggested he’d been brewing this plan for ages. And honestly, when don’t we romantic interests dive headfirst into chaos like a bunch of heroine addicts?

His lips brushed against mine softly, a mere whisper of a kiss that sent shivers down my spine. My brain short-circuited; maybe I was dreaming? In fact, perhaps I’d had one too many cups of that dubious punch totally worth it! Just as I began to respond by deepening the kiss, a distant noise made me jerk back. The muffled sound of laughter of my co-workers, specifically those from the Seventeen team who had a strange allure of being overly enthusiastic and embarrassing reached our ears. And thus began the internal struggle of my life should I laugh nervously or enjoy the audacity of our joined chaos?

“Anyone could stumble in,” I whispered, a mix of exhilaration and terror gushing through me, effectively fuelling my desire for what was clearly a forbidden moment.

He chuckled, brushing his fingers through my hair. “What’s the fun in that? Besides, what’re they gonna do, judge us? No one will ever believe it was me. I’m the quiet one.”

A wave of realization hit me. My cheeks burned with a mix of excitement and laughter as I held the ridiculousness of the situation close to heart. Minghao had just suggested we indulge ourselves in an illicit rendezvous while our co-workers those dedicated listeners of office drama who creeped on every little detail were effortlessly blinded by their own holiday cheer.

“Alright, you infamous closet-lover,” I teased, my heart beating faster with each passing second. “Let’s give them a story they won’t forget.”

With that, we dove headfirst into the unpredictably thrilling, wonderfully awkward world of office romance. Outside, the party continued, innocent and cheerful, blissfully unaware that their ‘quiet’ co-worker was in a closet with me an unscripted scene that made for the juiciest office gossip. As the laughter grew louder outside the door, little did they know that Mingho and I were busy becoming the leads of our chaotic, yet undeniably romantic, holiday tale.

And so there we were lost between the shelves of festive cheer, sneaking kisses, laughter spilling from our lips like punch onto the floor, two unlikely protagonists writing a plot twist even the best holiday rom-coms wouldn’t dare to feature. After all, who needs mistletoe when you have a storage closet?

(This is my first ever time doing something like this haha so sorry its bad just wanted to give it a go)

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 44 : first battle

Yama reveal the truth

The room was silent for a moment. Macaque could see some of the judges frowning, probably disagreeing with the decision, yet none dared to voice their complaints. Yama sighed and leaned back in his chair, his eyes lost in the table before him, guilt and hurt brewing inside of his eyes. It was odd to see emotions on his face. Macaque was so used to the lack of emotions, to his face of marble, he forgot he was even capable of feelings. All judges were in a sense. The silence was solemn, heavy in the way it pressed against their shoulders. Yama seemed to gather his thoughts after a few seconds, he straightened and opened his mouth. 

“Every living being is supposed to be born under my rule, their names written in the Book of Life and Death.” He began, voice smoothed, almost like it was polished to not reflect a shred of feeling. “Even you two were originally under my rule… ” He looked up at both monkeys. “One day, we discovered the existence of someone that had never been registered in the Book of Life and Death, someone naturally born out of the Diyu's reach. She is one of your kind, the Red-Buttocked Horse-Monkey, I'll call her Mahou as of now.” Macaque straightened at the mention of Mahou, he never interacted with the other celestial monkey even if he knew of their existence, it was surprising to learn of one of them now. “As someone who is naturally born out of the Diyu's reign, she is capable of freely traveling the layers separating the mortal realm and the Diyu. This could be dangerous for us, for contrary to transportation magic, her natural given ability is undetectable. Fortunately, contrary to you both, Mahou is not one to cause chaos. She understood the Diyu's orders and never did anything to endanger the realm, at least until she brought this… lantern piece here. She knew bringing a mortal object, especially a shadow related one, to the Diyu was forbidden. Yet when her sworn-sister soul came here and stayed to be cleansed of her sins, Mahou secretly gave her this lantern piece. I don't know what her intentions were, I do think she did not wish for this…” Yama sighed before resuming his story. “In parallel to this another… person… came to the Diyu via transportation magic. I do not know if we can even call him a person. You all know him very well, he was the former thrall of the bone demoness. He came here to wage war and retrieved his mistress' soul, armed with various things. He did not listen to reason when we told him his mistress' soul didn't exist anymore.” Yama's eyes fell on him for a second. “She used necromancy, a heinous act for us, as such her soul was destroyed, forever out of the samsara circle. We would have managed him eventually but he somehow stumbled on Mahou's sworn sister and the lantern piece. Very much like his mistress did before, he shattered Mahou's sworn sister soul and stole the lantern piece. Since then, he wages this ridiculous rebellion. I do not know what he wants exactly, if he's destroying us because of some petty vengeance or if he has more somber designs.”

“Of course it's the creepy not - mayor dude.” Groaned Mei as she slumped in her chair. 

Macaque sighed at the revelation, he knew letting this puppet run away after his mistress' defeat wasn't a good idea, they should have muzzled him or, at least, surveilled him. Even if she wasn't here anymore, her hold on her thrall certainly didn't lessen. What he couldn't understand however was how the thrall managed the lantern piece. Macaque knew the guy, he spent some unfortunate hours in his company, and he was certain that he wasn't an adept of shadow magic. In fact, he wasn't very skilled in magic on a general basis. So the fact that he could control Diyu's shadows with a piece of an abused artifact was more than odd. Mayhaps, it could explain why the weapons looked so rough, an amateur work truly, but still the thrall shouldn't be able to lift an inch of this realm's shadows. 

“Are you sure he's the one responsible for this rebellion?” Asked Macaque with a raised eyebrow, Yama turned towards him with inquiry. 

“Except for him, all the rebels are dead souls. I think you know better than anyone else that dead souls cannot use magic.” Replied the King of Darkness with narrowed eyes. 

“Careful with what you're saying.” Growled the sage as he let one hint of his fangs show through his lips. Macaque put his hand atop of Wukong's to calm him down. 

“You're awfully territorial, great sage.” Snorted one of the judges, Wukong turned towards him with fire in his eyes. 

“I just think we should be careful, the thrall was never one to dwell with shadows, it is odd for him to be able to do this.” Sighed Macaque as he squeezed Wukong's hand, the sage settled on his chair and looked away with furrowed eyebrows, probably still angry. 

“This aside, we only have to retrieve the liu'si and you'll handle the rest?” Asked Pigsy with narrowed eyes, probably suspicious of the Diyu's intention. 

“Precisely, we do not need your help to handle the rebellion, the liu'si are our only problems.” Replied Yama as he crossed his arms, his expression full of pride. 

“And no funny business, right?” Cut Mei as she leaned over the table. 

“Like you're not gonna steal our emo monkey from us, right?” Added MK with a nervous chuckle. 

“I will not touch him.” Sighed Yama. “I have no use for incomplete souls but we can add this as a clause if you'd like.” Macaque flinched at the mention of incomplete souls, very much aware that fragments of his souls were still missing (they probably faded away in the Diyu's depth). Wukong held his hand and rubbed comforting circles on top of his palm while he glared at Yama. 

The clause was added rather quickly and they all signed the contract, Yama kept one copy and the sage was given the other. Yama then gestured for one of his lil fiends, the demon approached warily with a detailed file of all known information on the liu'si and gave it to Wukong. The King of Darkness shooed them away after this, letting them return to the guest room.

“Why were they so secretive about the story though, it's not like they could do much to stop the not-mayor.” Shrugged Mei as she sat on the bed of the guest room, MK slided beside her and Red Son reluctantly sat at the kid's side. 

“They have a lot of pride.” Answered the sage as he skimmed over the detailed file, Macaque looked over his shoulders and noticed it was written in ancient Chinese. He then sat in one corner of the room and let Sock leap on his lap. 

“So, how are we gonna retrieve the super weapons or whatever?” Asked Pigsy as he crossed his arms. 

“The liu'si.” Corrected Tang while he pushed his glasses back on his nose. 

“They do know in which level the weapons are and with who… except for the sixth one? Apparently the sixth one is just a rumor for now.” Mumbled Wukong with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Then we just gotta fight with, like, five people! That's easy, we're the Monkie Kids, we handle worse.” Chuckled Mei as she put one of her amr over MK and ruffled his hair. 

“Where is the first weapon?” Calmly asked Sandy as he tilted his head. Sun Wukong scowled at that and awkwardly scratched his head. 

“Well, it's kind of funny, but all of those five guys might be demons I killed during my journey.” They all looked at the King with various levels of bewilderment or disappointment. Sun Wukong coughed nervously and cleared his throat. “Anyway, the first is… it's on the Hell of the Mountain of Knives. Last time I saw the guy he was a huge red serpent and couldn't even talk, more monster than anything.”

“Such a nice sounding Hell.” Groaned Mei. 

“The weapon is supposed to be… twin daggers? Something like that.” Mumbled the sage with a raised eyebrow. 

“How can a snake even wield daggers?” Wondered MK, he put one hand on his chin and began to think about it. 

“We'll find out soon enough.” Sighed Red Son. They all settled around the room for a little bit, deciding to take a short break before diving in Diyu's depth and searching for the red serpent. Macaque leaned on the wall, Sock still on his lap, and closed his eyes. He felt someone sat beside him and opened one eye to glance at them, he wasn't surprised to see Wukong. 

“How are your wrists?” Asked the sage as he put his head on his knee. 

“A bit better.”Shrugged the warrior. Silence settled over them after that, it could have been peaceful if Macaque didn't sense Wukong's restlessness. “You want to ask something?”

“... No.” Sighed the sage. “Just be careful in the battle.” He mumbled with furrowed eyebrows, Macaque looked at him for a little before averting his eyes. While Wukong's worry came from a place of care, it felt bittersweet for the warrior. He knew he wasn't the most powerful but it still felt sour to be confronted with the unadulterated facts. Yet what could he do except take it in strides? He felt closer to the Diyu's shadows after meditating but he knew it wasn't enough to be able to control them. Macaque needed to be patient in this matter.

They left the room after their short breather, it was rather easy to command the various fiends roaming in the House with their new contract. They were guided to one transportation circle and traveled to the Mountain of Knives. The Hell resembled the one Macaque was familiar with, endless black, endless cries, endless suffering. The only thing that was rather odd was the fog slithering around the different mountains. Sock curled deeper in the warrior's neck, not liking the fog's cold feeling. They walked towards one of the knife mountains, all with their guards up, ready to strike at any suspicious movements. 

The Hell of the Mountain of Knives was rather damaged, there was a small amount of dead souls cowering in some corners and the fiends responsible for them were running around the place, trying to keep the mountains from collapsing. The rocks were covered in cracks, on the verge of breaking apart. 

“It shouldn't be this hard to find a giant snake!” Groaned MK as he tightened his hold on the staff, Macaque agreed with him. He shivered when he felt something familiar buzzing in the air and looked up, there was an outrageous amount of fog above their heads. 

“Guys, are you seeing this too?” Mumbled Macaque as he narrowed his eyes, they all stopped and looked up, watching the fog with various levels of bewilderment.

“This is definitely not normal.” Muttered the King. 

Macaque noticed two glowing lights moving behind the fog, as he was about to ask Wukong about it he felt his fur puff up, the natural feeling of shadow magic cutting the air like a well-sharpened blade. 

“WATCH OUT!” His shout surprised the others but also gave them enough time to protect themselves as a rain of daggers fell from the sky. Tang put a protective barrier around them, and while it was shaky at first, Wukong stepped in to give it a little boost. 

“This is some final boss fight.” Wheezled Mei as she looked up, trying to find the snake within the fog. Macaque noticed some flashes of red at times, but other than that it was quite hard to pinpoint its exact location. 

“Are we supposed to retrieve all the daggers?” Asked Pigsy as he eyed the rain of daggers destroying the nearby mountains. “There are thousands of them!” Macaque looked at one particular dagger planted in the soil and easily recognized it for what it truly was. 

“No! Those are shadow copies! The true daggers must be with it.” Informed Macaque, the rain stopped for a little bit and Wukong immediately summoned his cloud; it was smaller than usual, perhaps because the Diyu didn't have any natural light. 

“Let's go, kid!” MK nodded and summoned his own cloud. Pigsy and Sandy climbed behind one of the clouds respectively to act as supports. They flew directly in the fog, disappearing from sight. 

“And what do we do?” Asked Mei as she took her sword and narrowed her eyes at the sky. 

“We can shoot long distance attacks, let's focus on that!” Called Red Son, he snapped his fingers and ignited his palms. He then proceeded to shoot rapid fire balls at the fog in hope of hitting the snake. 

“Oh I like that!” Chuckled Mei as she imitated him with her own fire. This continued for a bit, then Macaque heard the sizzling sound of shadow magic and warned the scholar, Tang immediately put another barrier around them. The rain of daggers fell on them once again. 

“You're alright there Tangy?” Asked Mei, she turned towards the bespeckled man and frowned at his pale complexion. 

“This is harder without Monkey King, but I'm fine.” Replied Tang as he held on the barrier and protected them from the rain. 

“I think they can't approach him because of the fog.” Muttered Macaque as he watched both Wukong's and MK's clouds dancing around the fog, they seemed to be rejected by it each time they tried to dive in it. “We need to put the snake down.”

“And how are we gonna do that?” Replied Mei. 

“... Did you both ever try dual casting?” Asked the warrior as he turned towards the Bull's son and the dragon girl, hoping they, in fact, already did once in their lives to make it easier. 

“I trained her at one point but besides that we never tried.” Replied Red Son, he put one hand on his chin and began to think about what the warrior proposed. “But both our magics are highly compatible, it could work.”

“Alright I'll help with the synchronization.” Nodded Macaque, he crouched down behind the two kids, Sock's weight around his neck comforting in the frenzy overtaking them. Macaque was a warrior, highly experienced in battles, he knew how to reign in his feelings, how to act and how to swallow his fear, turning it into strength. The kids weren't novices by all means but they still lacked experience, Macaque could see it in the way Mei gripped her sword a little too tightly, in the way Red Son tightened his fists. Even Tang seemed to tremble a bit. “We'll cast a dual spell with both your fire magics, kids. Tang will lower his barrier at my signal and you'll release the spell, got it?” They all nodded at him. “Do you both know the basics of dual casting?”

“Of course! I'm the great son of the Demon Bull King, this is child play!”

“I have no idea what you're talking about but I'm all for it, emo boy.” Chuckled the dragon girl.

“I like the energy.” Snorted the warrior. “Both focus and take the other hand.” Macaque put both his hands on the kids shoulders to ground them and regulate their energies, it made him wince, his wrists were still not fully healed, but he ignored it. “Move the flow of your magic towards the hand you're holding, slowly, do not rush.” He smiled when he saw how easily they both moved the flow of their magical energy within them, as expected they were quite talented. “Now, fire magic comes from the heart, let your feelings fuel the energy in your hands.” Macaque smirked when he saw sparks coming out of their clasped hands, he looked up and saw how Wukong and MK were still struggling to enter the fog, Sandy and Pigsy were doing a great job at defending them against the daggers thrown their ways. He needed a way to warn them, if not they would be caught in the spell. “Tang can you make a pillar of light, or just something to attract their attention?” Asked Macaque. 

“I can try.” Replied the scholar while still struggling to hold the barrier. 

“Alright, at my signal you'll release the barrier and make the pillar or whatever you can do to make them notice us. Now, kids, you'll fire the spell only when I told you to.” They all nodded to his words and he patiently waited for the right moment to strike. The snake had some sort of refractory period after using the daggers' rain, he needed to wait for this. Once the rain stopped he shouted “Now Tang!”. The scholar dispelled the barrier and lifted his staff, releasing a shout of blinding light. Sun Wukong turned towards them and immediately understood what they were trying to do when he saw Mei and Red Son. He shouted at the kid to get away from the snake, Macaque couldn't properly see what was happening because of Tang's blinding light but he smiled when he heard Wukong’s shout, as expected the great sage caught on, that's his man! “Now kids!”

Both Mei and Red Son lifted their clasped hands as Tang got out of their ways and ran behind Macaque. Their combined fire intertwined to form one single scarlet-red dragon with bull's horns, they launched it at the fog, falling on their butts because of the spell recoil. The dragon hit the fog, burning it to ashes, and pierced the snake slithering in the sky with its horns. The beast cried in pain and plummeted to the ground. It wasn't defeated yet, but its stomach was bleeding in pain, the wound flaming. Wukong and MK immediately launched themselves at the serpent, hitting it directly. Macaque looked carefully and quickly recognized the shine of the snake's front fangs; he would never mistake these shadowed glints, even if the fangs looked like any other. 

“The front fangs!! Those are the daggers!”

Wukong smiled at his input, he climbed on the beast's back and immobilized it with the aid of Sandy and Pigsy while MK was holding its mouth open with the staff. Macaque left both fiery kids in Tang's care and ran towards the snake, stopping beside MK as he struggled to keep the mouth often. It was a risky bet but out of anyone he was better at handling shadows, and thus better at removing shadow daggers embedded in fangs. 

“Macaque?” Asked the kid as he glanced at him while still struggling with the mouth. 

“Just trust me, kiddo.” Mumbled Macaque, MK nodded at that, always one to trust his friends. The warrior took a deep breath and grabbed both fangs. Of course his skin was ripped, the fangs were sharp after all, and the shadows around them lashed out, but Macaque held on. Somehow it felt weird to grab the fangs, something inside of him was being squeezed, a feeling he couldn't exactly pinpoint. 

“No! Mac what are you doing!?” Cried Wukong as he struggled to keep the snake in place. Macaque didn't have time to answer him, he pulled on the fangs, trying to calm the shadows at the same time. It was incredibly difficult, the shadows were not friendly at all, but he managed to subdue them enough. He pulled and pulled until the snake's skin began to rip and, finally, he was able to rip the daggers from the snake's mouth. 

Macaque fell on his butt, the fangs in his bloodied hands. The kid fell beside him as well, utterly exhausted. The snake looked at them both with rage but as it tried to attack them, Wukong jumped and punched its head, putting it down once and for all.

“What were you thinking!?” Shouted Wukong, he glared at the warrior and rushed towards him, looking at his bloodied hands with horror. 

“I'm fine-”

“No you're not!” Cut the sage in a shaky breath. 

“I have the daggers?” Nervously mumbled Macaque. He looked down at the fangs in his hands and narrowed his eyes, it felt strange to hold them, familiar in the oddest of ways. 

He tried to hand them to Wukong in hope of calming his fretting heart but the second he lifted his hand the fangs cracked and exploded. The daggers fell like dust in Macaque's lap and an old waning light escaped them. Macaque watched the light with widened eyes, despair filling every inch of his body. He lifted his hand and tried to catch it but the light shone one last time before fading away. 

He wasn't even able to graze it. 

“Macaque? You're alright ? Why are you crying?” Asked the sage as he fretted over him. Macaque shakily raised one of his bloodied hands and felt his cheeks, indeed, he was crying.

“I-I don't… What?” Wukong's expression softened ever so slightly and he put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“Let's get you back to the guest room.”

“Yeah.” Mumbled the warrior with a trembling voice. “Let's do that.”

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[littlest-w01f]

Artistic

For @acotargiftexchange

This is my gift for my lovely recipient @cinmawrites

ACOTARGIFTEXCHANGE MASTERLIST

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven

Rhysand sat in the backseat of his car, his long legs stretched out as he gazed out the tinted window. The city lights blurred past in a mix of colours. His mind wandered to Feyre, as it often did these days. After their almost kiss a week ago, he couldn't seem to shake the memory from his thoughts.

That tantalizing moment when their lips had hovered mere inches apart, the electricity arcing between them. It was clearly more than just professional admiration that drew him to her. There was a gentleness about her, a vulnerability hidden beneath that fierce determination. It called to him, awakening feelings he thought long buried, mushy feeling.

Rhysand sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He needed to focus on the matters at hand, not dwell on forbidden fantasies. Yet, even as he told himself to push aside his feelings for Feyre, he couldn't deny the constant ache in his chest whenever she was near.

As the car pulled up to the coffee shop he frequented, Rhysand gathered his thoughts. He needed to focus on the high-stakes meeting taking place today away from the Publishing House, not dwell on a certain captivating intern.

Rhysand stepped out of the car, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heated turmoil brewing inside him. He straightened his crisp black suit, smoothing out any wrinkles as he made his way into the dimly lit coffee shop. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him, momentarily distracting him from his inner musings.

Inside the bustling coffee shop, Feyre sat in her seat, the sketchbook Rhysand had bought her set on her table as she sketched, pencil gliding over the paper, her latte and muffin near her.

As Rhysand approached, he spotted Feyre immediately, her profile etched in concentration as she worked away on her drawing. The soft glow of the shop lights danced across her features, accentuating the delicate lines of her face and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Rhysand paused, mesmerized by the sight of her, a warm, comforting feeling spread through his chest.

Their eyes met across the café when she looked up, and Feyre felt her heart skip a beat. He flashed her a rare, genuine smile, one reserved only for those closest to him. It transformed his usually stern features, making him appear younger, more approachable. "Fancy meeting you here," He said, voice deep as he approached her. "Mind if I join you for a bit? My meeting got postponed, and I have some time to kill."

"Not at all," Feyre replied warmly, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I could use some company while I work. Please, sit down." Suddenly hyper-aware of every little detail, the warmth of her skin, the slight tremble in her fingers, the way her heart raced at his proximity, for their work, they had managed to be professional for now, but this was out of it. "Wait... You said a meeting? You... You never have meeting on the weekends..." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, she was sure from the time she used to schedule his meeting early in her internship, he'd tell her to keep everything off the weekend.

Rhysand chuckled softly, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. "You're right, I don't usually schedule meetings on weekends. This one was... Unexpected." He paused, considering how much to reveal.

"It's part of another venture I'm involved in, separate from the Publishing House. Nothing for you to worry about though." His tone remained light, but there was an undercurrent of something else, a hint of danger, perhaps, or deep secrets. "Family business."

Feyre raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the cryptic mention of family business. She knew Rhysand was a private person, but this seemed different, like there were layers to him she was only beginning to peel back. "Family business, huh?" She repeated, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, a playful smirk on her lips. "Sounds mysterious. Judging by that suit you're wearing."

She gestured towards his attire, her eyes roaming appreciatively over the sleek fabric that hugged his broad shoulders and lean physique. The subtle play of muscles beneath his clothes was impossible to miss, a testament to his physical prowess. Feyre quickly looked away, feeling a flush creep up her neck at the unintended intimacy of her gaze.

"And speaking of family... How's living with my cousin been treating you?" Rhysand questioned sipping on his coffee.

"Living with Mor has been... Interesting," She replied, happy for a distraction from her previous train of thought, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "She's not exactly what I would've asked for in a roommate three years ago but she's perfect. Late night parties, spontaneous road trips, constant matchmaking attempts..." Feyre shook her head fondly. "I'm grateful to have her in my life."

Rhysand listened intently, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips as he absorbed each word. He liked hearing about Feyre's life outside of the office, learning the details that shaped her personality and experiences. "Matchmaking attempts, eh?" He teased, raising an eyebrow. He wondered if she'd tried to set her up with someone.

"I'm glad she has you to balance her out. You two complement each other perfectly." His gaze lingered on Feyre, a warmth in his eyes that went beyond mere politeness. "Mor speaks highly of you, you know. Says you're the best thing that's happened to her in a long time." Rhysand leaned against the table slightly, angling his body towards her. "I can see why. You have a way of bringing out the best in people."

A lovely blush coloured Feyre's cheeks at Rhysand's words. She ducked her head shyly, peeking up at him through her lashes. "That's sweet of you to say, Rhys. And of Mor. I'm lucky to have her in my corner."

The awareness of his growing attraction for Feyre was undeniable now. He admired the delicate flush on her cheeks, the manner with which she peered up at him. It was intoxicating, this gentle vulnerability she exuded. Rhysand's heart quickened at the sight of Feyre's blushing cheeks, her shy yet captivating demeanour. He found himself drawn to her innocent beauty, the way her eyes sparkled with warmth and curiosity. "You deserve all the luck in the world, Feyre," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Lost in thought, Rhysand barely registered the bustling activity around them. All he could focus on was the enticing curve of Feyre's lips, the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face. A sudden urge to reach out, to brush that stray lock behind her ear, nearly overwhelmed him.

Feeling the intensity of Rhysand's gaze, Feyre nervously licked her lips, wondering what was going through his mind. There was a palpable tension between them, a shared awareness of the forbidden desires simmering just below the surface.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Rhysand gently brushed the errant strand of hair behind Feyre's ear, his fingertips grazing her heated cheek in the process. The contact sent sparks racing along her nerve endings, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"You're lovely when you blush," He murmured, his voice dipping as he spoke. Feyre shivered, the husky undertones of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Feyre's breath caught in her throat as Rhysand's touch ignited a fire within her. The heat of his fingers seared her skin, leaving a lingering imprint that seemed to pulse with life. She sighed, savouring the sensation, the gentle caress that spoke volumes about the unspoken connection between them.

With a regretful sigh, Rhysand pulled away when his phone buzzed, realizing he'd lingered far longer than intended. "I should probably get going. Meetings won't reschedule themselves, no matter how appealing the company may be." He offered a wry smile, coffee in hand, trying to hide the disappointment in his eyes. "Walk with me to the end of the block, will you? I hate saying goodbye in such a hurry."

Feyre nodded, feeling a pang of her own at the prospect of parting ways so soon. "Of course, Rhys. Duty calls, and all that." She picked up her bag, placed everything back inside, and shrugged on the coat she had draped on the chair.

As they neared the end of the block, Rhysand slowed his pace, seemingly reluctant to reach the point where their walk would come to an end.

"Feyre, may I ask you something personal?" His intense eyes searched hers intently, a flicker of uncertainty beneath the surface of his usual composure.

Caught off guard, Feyre hesitated before nodding. "Of course, Rhys. What is it you want to know?"

"Have you ever wanted to do something outside of business?" Rhysand's question hung in the crisp winter air, heavy with unspoken implications.

She considered her answer carefully. "Outside of business?" She repeated, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "Well, I did once dream of being a famous painter, spreading my art, of traveling the world, of experiencing different cultures and ways of life... I want to see the world... I've never really been anywhere."

Her words trailed off, a faraway look entering her eyes as memories surfaced. Rhysand listened intently, captivated by the glimpse into Feyre's aspirations.

"But those dreams were put on hold," She continued, her gaze refocusing on him. "Life had other plans, and I never quite got around to pursuing them."

"Those "Other plans" often derail our deepest desires, don't they?" Rhysand mused, a note of melancholy in his voice. "It's easy to let responsibilities and obligations crowd out the things that truly make us happy."

Feyre agreed, a hint of melancholy creeping into her tone, "Well, what were your dreams? Is there something you wanted to be if it wasn't for your business?"

Rhysand's expression softened, a wistful glint in his eyes as he pondered the past. "If I'm being completely honest, I always had a fascination with the sky, the universe... Stargazing, astronomy..." Rhysand revealed, a hint of embarrassment colouring his voice. "But ambition and duty took precedence over those whimsical pursuits."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Who knows, maybe someday I'll revisit those interests, find a way to incorporate them into my life without sacrificing everything else."

Their eyes met, understanding passing between them like a silent agreement. In that moment, Rhysand felt an overwhelming urge to bridge the gap between them, to show Feyre just how deeply he connected with her hopes and fears. But propriety held him back, and he contented himself with a gentle squeeze of her hand before releasing her.

"Well, I really must be off," He said, taking a step back. "Thank you for the lovely chat, Feyre." With a final nod, Rhysand turned the corner. Feyre watched him go, a strange mix of longing and trepidation swirling within her.

Feyre made her way back, lost in thought as the city lights blurred past. Rhysand's words echoed in her mind, the idea of finding happiness in her passion despite life's obstacles. It was tempting, almost intoxicating, to imagine a future where she could pursue her passions without restraint, she held her sketchbook close to her chest as she walked.

When she arrived at her modest place, the familiar sounds and scents of home provided a comforting contrast to the whirlwind of emotions still churning inside her, she was grateful that Mor was out spending the night with her girlfriend, leaving the place to herself and her thoughts. She settled onto the couch with a thick blanket.

As Feyre curled up on the couch, she opened her sketchbook, letting her pencil dance across the page, continuing with the sketch. Her mind wandered, reliving the moments with Rhysand, capturing the play of light on his features, the intensity of his gaze. Rhysand's face emerged on the paper, his striking features captured in loose lines and shading. She added details - the subtle arch of his eyebrows, the playful curve of his lips.

As she drew, Feyre found herself slipping further into the fantasy, imagining Rhysand before her, alive and breathing. Her hand moved faster, refining the portrait until it almost looked like him. Almost.

With a sigh, Feyre set the sketch aside, her fingers tracing the outline of Rhys's face one last time before breaking contact. She knew it was futile to indulge in such daydreams, no matter how tantalizing they might be.

She then picked her mini pallet of paint, dipping a brush in the pigment, it felt funny, painting Rhysand with the supplies he'd bought her.

With deliberate strokes, Feyre began to add colour to her sketch, starting with the rich, dark tones of Rhysand's hair. She mixed a blend of blues and purples, adding depth and dimension to capture the mesmerizing swirls of his locks. As she worked, Feyre found herself losing track of time, the world fading away until only Rhysand's image remained, brought to vibrant life on the canvas.

Hours slipped by unnoticed as Feyre painted, her focus entirely consumed by the piece unfolding before her eyes. The colours blended and merged, creating a stunning likeness of Rhysand's hair. The sketch was breathtaking, to say the least. A subtle smirk played on his lips, as if he knew the secrets hidden in her heart.

A sense of longing washed over her, the desire to bring that sketch to life, to have him stand beside her and whisper promises of a future together. She carried the incomplete painting to her bedroom window, gazing out at the star-studded expanse above the city. At that moment, Feyre couldn't help but wonder if Rhysand was also standing under the similar stared sky, gazing up, his thoughts drifting to her as hers drifted to him.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, chilling Feyre to the bone. She sighed and shut the window to keep the frost out, pulling in the curtains, she wondered if it might snow, she wanted it to, to wake up to a world blanketed in white. Feyre wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly as she returned to the warmth of her room.

As Feyre retreated into the cosy sanctuary of her bed, the chill of the night still lingered on her skin. She wrapped herself in plush bedcovers, the soft fabric providing welcome comfort against the lingering cold.

She settled in, with a hum, she turned off her bedside lamp, pulling a soft silk eye mask she had recently bought over her eyes, she giggled softly, kicking her feet under the covers, loving how cold they were. She loved winter, the cosiness of being all snuggled up in bed. She relaxed pretty soon, snuggling into a fuzzy bat plushy Mor had gifted her as a gag almost a year ago.

[miniwrites1]

In the Shadow of Azkaban - Dark! Sebastian Sallow

Requested!

Word Count - 1.2k

Themes - Angst

(Warnings will be added as the story progresses)

As a potions master, you were used to having to find your own ingredients, whether it be a trip to the Forbidden Forest or simply stopping by J Pippin’s Potions; it was a hazard of the role that you’d taken when agreeing to teach potions at Hogwarts, being invited back by Headmaster Black.

You’d made a name for yourself rather quickly in the wizarding world, producing a curse-reducing potion to aid those who had suffered at the hands of dark wizards, extending their lives and reducing their pain. It had been a breakthrough, with many people telling you it was impossible. But being undeterred, you pursued it. The media coverage you’d had after the breakthrough had been intense; the Daily Prophet had contacted you daily, standing outside your home and sending letters until you’d finally relented into giving them a quote to run on the front page.

“(Y/N), what made you want to create a cure for pain?” A journalist asked, magic quill and parchment ready to scribble down your every word. You paused for a moment to think.

“After seeing a close friend be killed by a curse, I knew I needed to do something. She was in agony every day up until her death. It is unfair to allow those cursed to suffer for the rest of their lives.” You responded calmly, trying to keep your composure; you could feel your nose tingle slightly and a small lump forming in your throat, a sign that you were heading towards tears. You had remembered Anne, Sebastian’s sister, who had passed away not long before you had finished testing the potion. You’d sent her letters about your discoveries, ensuring to keep in contact with her throughout the journey of your potion craft. She seemed excited at the thought of a potion designed specifically for someone like her; however she’d never had the chance to use it.

You remembered visiting her a few days before she’d passed, using the floo network to get to Feldcroft. You’d appeared outside the front of her home covered in soot, yet she’d invited you inside anyway, glad to see a friendly face and embracing you in a hug as soon as she saw you. You could tell she was in pain, which only made you fight harder to find a solution.

Days later, you received an owl to your home informing you of her death; it was devastating to you. After everything that had happened with Sebastian and the death of her uncle, you’d know that she was struggling, but it added a new layer of pain she couldn’t stand any longer; she’d battled for six long years until she’d finally passed away.

And now you were the potions master at Hogwarts, spending your days teaching children to brew potions that could heal or kill other people. Somehow you’d still found time to continue your research, a potion that could ease a curse was one thing, but a potion that could cure a curse was a whole other thing entirely.

As your students arrived at your classroom, you looked at their faces, smiling and happy mostly, remembering that feeling of walking into your first potions lesson with Sebastian at your side. It was a mere memory now; Sebastian was locked away in Azkaban, unseen and unheard, with only the Deatheaters for company. Thinking back, you felt a small amount of shame in turning him in, having him expelled and sent to Azkaban for killing his uncle, but at the time, it felt like the right thing to do. He needed to know that what he had done was unforgivable in the eyes of many and that the dark arts were not something to be meddled with.

Sighing softly, you stood up from your desk at the front of the room and sharply wrote your name on the board, causing all the students to focus their eyes forward; the sound of chalk grating across the board was enough to catch anyone’s attention, let alone first years. “Good morning class; I’m Professor (Y/L/N).”

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian flipped through the Daily Prophet lazily as he sat on the floor in his cell, a small number of articles grabbing his attention, mainly those about spells and dark wizards. He sighed to himself; he’d been locked in Azkaban for seven years from the age of sixteen until twenty-three, having to beg for scraps of food from other inmates during his one hour of freedom from his solitary cell.

He was classed as almost reformed, showing that he’d paid his debts to society for what he’d done, but he would always be branded as a murderer.

“One more year.” He mumbled to himself as he made another mark on the wall of his cell. He’d been counting down the days until his freedom, waiting for the day he could finally feel a fresh breeze and the grass under his feet. That day couldn’t come soon enough. He felt his heart rate pick up as he thought of everything he’d do once he was free. The first would be to find Anne; he wanted to ensure she was still alive, even from a distance, as he doubted she would see him. He couldn’t blame her, not after everything that had happened.

The second would be to find (Y/N), the one who had sentenced him to a life of pain and sorrow. He blamed you for everything that had happened to him, swearing to himself that he would hunt you down until his last dying breath to make you pay for what you’d done to him.

Anger flared through his veins, a visceral sense of wanting to hurt you taking over. He wanted, no needed to make you pay for everything. He would stop at nothing to get to you; even if you were in the world’s most guarded, secretive place, he would find you. Flipping over the copy of the Daily Prophet he was holding, he noticed the headline.

“Troll slaying Witch discovers a pain-reducing potion.”

He glanced down at the photo below the headline, anger coursing more furiously than ever when he saw your face beaming at the camera, pride in your accomplishments shining through. He wanted to tear the paper in half, seeing that you’d made something of yourself flipped a switch inside of his mind. He didn’t just want to make you pay; he wanted to make you suffer in the most painful ways possible. He wanted to rip everything away from you, just as you had done to him.

His eyes floated to the sub heading.

"Professor (Y/L/N) dedicates the breakthrough to Anne Sallow - Passed 17th November 1896."

Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling tears brimming at the corners, throwing the paper across the room. He'd never had the chance to say goodbye, never had the chance to save her. Through his sadness emerged an unwavering feeling of anger.

You knew how much Anne had meant to him, Ominis had too. Why had neither of you contacted him? His anger only grew more as he thought.

In his mind he began to piece together a plan of how to get to you once he was free. He knew it would be a mammoth task to try and get near you again; however his Slytherin genes weren’t just for show; slowly he’d find a way to you, break you down bit by bit and ruin you in the worst possible way.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Runnin' Roughshod"

Pairing: Bucky x black female Reader

Rated: Explicit

Tags: civil war, westward expansion, homesteader Bucky, Black!Fem!Reader, slavery, historic AU, forbidden romance, interracial relationship, racism, period typical attitudes, brothel, prostitution

A Bucky x Black!fem!Reader historical AU fic that I decided to bullet point for funsies, and then wound up writing half of the damn thing that way 🙄

You're a slave living in 1860 Missouri, just outside of St. Louis.

You're the property of (and half-sister to) Master Lewis. Lucky for you, Master Lewis Senior is dead, and Lewis Jr.'s young bride Darcilla is kind and agreeable, with progressive notions that she brought along with her trousseau when she came from Maryland to wed Master Lewis.

Life is very good for you, compared to some others. You work in the house, as lady's maid to the new Mrs. Lewis (who insists you call her Ms. Darcy), and sometimes help in the shop in town.

The Lewis's own a handful of other slaves who help run their household and dressmaker's shop, but since the death of your mother you've had no family (well, except for Master Lewis, though nobody counts that). You do your work and keep to yourself. Sometimes you make a little money at the dress shop, which Mistress Darcilla lets you keep behind her husband's back.

You save up every penny, but buying your own freedom is a far off dream. Your whole life, you've never seriously contemplated running away. It isn't worth the risk.

But when tensions in the county begin to rise and you hear rumors of secession, you grow worried. You begin to squirrel away what valuables you can, gain the trust of your mistress, and bide your time.

With the uncertainty of war brewing, Master Lewis announces his plans to move the family deeper south. You can no longer afford to wait. You have to get out now, before your one and only chance is lost forever.

Your money gets you as far as Topeka, where you're forced to stop until you can earn enough to join a wagon train out West. You find work at a saloon, serving drinks and making flirty conversation with the men who come in for a good time.

In the mornings, you begin to learn the piano from "Old Freddie," and during the occasional slow afternoon, Madame Lapierre, the French woman who governs the "upstairs" girls, will play a game of chess with you whilst she tries to make headway in convincing you to "expand your employment opportunities."

Topeka is Free-Soiler territory, but there's always the fear that Master Lewis might find you. And, on the verge of statehood, the Kansas territory has tipped into increasingly violent conflict between anti- and pro-slavery settlers. With conditions worsening and all out war looming on the horizon, you have no guarantee of safety there anymore.

Desperate to raise the funds to go West more quickly, you tell Madame that you're ready to start selling more than drinks and conversation. You become her newest "poppet" prepared to do whatever it takes to get out of town before your luck - and your freedom - run out.

You've never been with a man, but you know the rudimentary facts of life, and with a little help from the other girls and Madame, you prepare to become just another "sporting girl."

Your first afternoon on the job, a roughshod rider comes into town, seeking lodging, drink, and the sort of "company" that you're there to provide.

The white girls get first dibs on clients, but the roughshod asks for you to be sent up to his room. You wish he wouldn't have. Not because you want to put off the inevitable, but because now the other girls will be nasty to you. The man is handsome, and the girls were all eager to get their hands in his pockets.

You're shaking in your boots, but Madame gives you a shot of whiskey, a spritz of her genuine French perfume, and a tiny pewter snuff case for "wetting the way," (whatever that means). She tells you to put it in your bosom and use it "when the time is right."

Terrified but determined to see it through, you head upstairs to the roughshod's room.

It does not go as you expect. First, he demands to know if you're working there of your own free will. You admit that he is your very first client - which you regret doing, because his face goes even stonier when you do. He barks out orders at you, insisting that you leave the room at once and fetch him the house's tub.

He wants a bath - a hot one! - and with soap, and a towel!! You're very happy about that, because it costs a whole sixty-five cents more, and it will also mean extra time spent with you, which leaves you with even more money in your pocket at the end of the day. You're still nervous, but elated at the luck you're having on your very first client!

The other girls are stewing in the hall with jealously and make snide comments about your race and the man's preference for you. They refuse to help you prepare the bath, but you don't care one lick. That's just more time the roughshod will be paying to spend with you, while you haul bucket after bucket of boiled water up the stairs.

Madame catches you in the hallway and tells you not to mind the other girls. She's a bit drunk on sherry, and she jokes that at this rate, you'll probably only have to spread your legs for two or three minutes! (God, you hope so).

The man is filthy, and he's hurt - as though he's been in a fight or fallen from his horse. He asks you to help bathe him, and you get started with your heart in your throat. His manners are as rough as he is, but he isn't mean to you, and he doesn't try to grab you, which is a relief. With shaking hands, you proceed to wash him.

This is your first time touching a naked man's body, and you try not to look down into the bathwater as you wash him. You're embarrassed, but it's not just nerves; seeing and touching such a handsome man has you warming as though you've downed another three shots of whiskey.

You squirm and fight not to let the roughshod see your flusterment, as your belly tightens with the familiar, but never indulged, feelings of lust.

The roughshod stays in the bath until the water's gone gray and cold. You kneel beside the tub and wring out the cloth, but squeak when, all at once, the man heaves himself up to standing, the water streaming down his body and his ... his Johnson right at the level of your face!

He grunts and swings his leg out of the tub - exposing all of his manhood jostling around not even two feet from your face as he does so! You blush and look away, but you can feel him staring at you as he grabs up the towel and dries himself off.

Surely, you think, now he will ask you to take off your clothes and join him on the bed. You know only the basics of what goes where for the act, having witnessed clandestine coitus a time or two in your life. You wait, unable to look up at him, as you expect to hear his gruff voice order you about. And it does.

"Get up."

You stand, trembling. But what he says next isn't what you're expecting: "You know how to rub a man's muscles?"

You look up at him. He's got the towel in hand, making no effort to use it to cover himself. Then again, you think, why should he? You're just another painted poppet (or, soon to be). "R-rub what?" you stammer - quite idiotically. Of course, you know what muscles are. ... You're just not sure if he's using the word as a ... a euphemism.

He rolls his eyes and brings the towel up to dry his hair. "Knew I should'a asked for the China girl," he mutters.

You clear your throat and look steadfastly at his face. "You're hurt," you say, because you've seen every part of his body now, despite your efforts to keep your eyes trained North. And you know he's got bruises all on his legs and back and sides.

The roughshod nods and abandons the towel to the floor. "Yeah." He's not a talker, but you get the impression he's waiting to hear something from you.

You struggle to think of what that might be. "I ... have ... rubbed my mother's shoulders, when they hurt her. Um. And her feet?"

If you're not mistaken, the man's mouth twitches up the barest bit, beneath his beard. "Eh," he says, then turns around, presenting you with his - very manly - ass. "How bad can ya be?" He walks towards the bed, waving you along without looking back. "Well c'mere then."

He climbs up onto the room's bed and lies down, face in his arms. "What're you doing?" he grumps. "I said get over here."

Swallowing thickly, you hurry across the room. With his back turned, you have less trouble letting your eyes rove over his naked body. His back is broad and muscled, going from impossibly wide and tanned shoulders, tapering all the way down to his slim hips and his pale ass. His thighs are hairy and---no. You force your eyes true north again, looking at the bruises that you're increasingly starting to suspect came from a beating. "What happened to you?" you ask.

His head stays pillowed in the crooks of his arms. "Get up on the bed," he grunts. "Sit on my ass and I'll tell 'ya what to do."

Your eyes all but bug out of your head, when he tells you to straddle him. You do, your skirt rustling as you move and get up on him. You're hesitant to put your weight down, but he huffs and tells you to sit.

"Speck like you ain't gonna feel any more'n a feather. Sit."

He talks you through giving him - what he deems a "goddamn lousy" - massage. He grunts whenever you press on his bruises, pained, but once you get the hang of it, he at least goes quiet and doesn't complain anymore, so maybe you're not so horrible at it after all.

You rub his shoulders, his neck and back; your belly coiling tight once again, filling with a swooping feeling at having his warm skin and hard muscles underhand, at the feeling of his body held between your legs. You worry that he somehow knows how you're reacting, but you don't speak and neither does he.

When he eventually groans from pained-pleasure rather than pain, you can't help but smirk triumphantly. You keep expecting him to roll over and declare the massage over and demand for you to touch his Johnson, but that keeps not happening (though he does groan a little more).

You check the clock and see that it's now early evening. The light outside is almost gone. You worry that he's lost track of time and might refuse to pay for the hours he's spent with you, which will get your wages garnished.

So, tentatively, you slide your hands down to his thick waist, the swooping feeling intensifying at watching all the muscles in his back tense and shift underneath the skin.

"Why'd you stop?" he grunts.

"Are ... are you sure ..." You hesitate, not knowing how to seduce a man.

"Spit it out," he says, annoyed.

You lick your lips. "Well I just ... it's been awhile now and ... Are you sure this is all you want?"

"It feels good," he snaps, voice muffled in his arms. "That's what I'm payin' you for, ain't it?"

His uncharitable response should make you relieved, but instead it just leaves you worried and confused. Are you not seductive enough? Is he going to complain to Madame once he leaves here?

You need to speak up, take action, or else you may be in trouble. "Mister," you say, "I--"

"James," he grunts. "S'my name."

You pause, surprised that he wants you to use it, since he doesn't seem to like you very much. "James," you try again. "I want to make sure you're ... um ... getting your money's worth?"

He's silent and still, then drawls, "You don't sound too sure about that."

FOLKS THIS HAS BEEN OUT OF HAND FOR AWHILE NOW. LETS GO BACK TO AN ACTUAL FUCKING OUTLINE:

He has you lie down on the bed, and he regards you tenderly and seems like he's going to finally do it, but his face goes sour when you nervously reach your hand for his Johnson, and he tells you he doesn't need anything else.

"That's enough." He rolls away, comes back with a dollar bill, hands it over and gruffly tells you to go over to the mercantile and buy him a fresh shirt.

Relieved and yet somehow also terribly disappointed, you do so. When you return, his hair is tied back and he's got his pants on again.

You expect him to dismiss you, but he tells you he wants your company in the downstairs, too. He takes you down and the two of you eat and drink together at his behest. As it's now evening, the other poppets work on men nearby, shooting you jealous looks every so often.

James slowly opens up to you, engaging you in conversation over his dinner. You can't help but talk back, the conversation coming naturally and your shoulders relaxing. James is much more likeable after a whiskey or two, and the two of you even laugh and joke together. He decides to teach you a dice game, and the two of you have fun well into the evening, until he goes back up to bed -- alone.

Madame is drunk and very proud--because the roughshod actually pays for the entire time! In one fell swoop, you've made a handsome sum! You begin to hope that soon you'll be able to buy your way onto a wagon train and go West!

But the next day, your fortunes change.

A lawman shows up with none other than Mr. Brooks--Master Lewis' most trusted slave. Brooks tells the lawman that you are the one he's looking for. He has your papers to prove Mr. Lewis' ownership!

Being only tenuously free territory, the lawman has the say so on what happens to you. Just when it looks like he's going to hand you over to Brooks, the roughshod comes downstairs. He claims you're his property and that your name is Pearl. He has no proof, but says that's because he bought you from a 'chief down in Indian country' (the Oklahoma territory).

One of the white girls calls out that that's not true: you work there.

It seems that the lie won't work, but when the lawman asks Madame if that's true, Madame says your name is Pearl and you showed up with the roughshod the other day.

The marshal decides to trust the word of a white man over Mr. Brooks (who looks very angry indeed). He brandishes the papers and promises to come back with Master Lewis.

With no time to spare, you make haste. You have to leave town now, no matter the fact that you don't have the money to make it out West. You stuff your things in your bag and leave with the wages you've earned.

Outside, the roughshod grabs your arm and pulls you in. He demands you tell him the truth, since he stuck his neck out for you.

You confess everything--running away, your plan to set out West for San Francisco. You fear that he's had a change of heart and will take you to the lawman, but he gets stern-faced again and gruffly tells you to come with him back to his home with him.

You're confused, but he is bossy and all but forces you back to his homestead with him. There, he informs you that, after getting into a "scrape" with some locals himself, he has to leave. He offers to take you out West with him, and part ways in California.

You agree.

Sometime, months later, in California:

The country is at war, but it feels far away from where you are now, as do Master Lewis' chances of ever finding you again. James has hope that the North will win and slavery will be done away with, when the two of you arrive in San Francisco. You make him breakfast, and ask: "What now?"

He gets quiet for awhile. "Woman like you?" He says, chewing the last bite of a biscuit. "Sews, can play chess, hard worker, beautiful, and you cook like this?" He sticks his tongue in his cheek and looks away for a moment. When he looks back, there's false cheer in his eyes. "You're gonna make some man a fine wife someday."

You inhale deeply, fighting to keep the sting of that comment from getting to your eyes. "But not you?" you finally say, once you've gathered the breath - and the courage - to do so.

The false cheer bleeds to sadness, fond and regretful, and he shakes his head softly. "No Darlin'. Not me."

(spoiler alert: you wind up together with a happy ending anyway)

IM SORRY IT'S TWO AM WHY DID I DO THIS I NEED TO SLEEEEP 😩

(Will def be writing (more of) this fic in the future though!)

[devil-doms]

Forbidden (Lucifer)

MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI. NO AGE IN BIO = BLOCKED

CW: Maid/Butler x Master, GN!MC

AN// okay so i wanted to try a “pick your own route” thing, this is kinda the intro to the little “forbidden” series. near the middle you have the option to bump into a different character and have a story go on with them! i hope it works okay!

AN2// there was supposed to be more characters but i’ve fallen out of obey me, so i never got to it, sorry :((

“Please, get me a cup of coffee, no sugar.” Lucifer says rubbing his temple out of stress.

“Yes, Master.” You reply and walk out of his room to the kitchen. You had been working as a butler/maid for the brothers for a long while now. You’ve seen how they torment Lucifer, but you haven’t seen him this stressed in a while.

You make it down to the kitchen and brew him a cup of coffee, then return to his room. You hand the drink to him, he sips it and sighs, "Thank you, MC."

You nod, then look at the heaps of paperwork on Lucifers desk, "Is there anything you need help with, Master?"

"I'm good for now, thank you."

You stare longingly at him, watching his hand move from his mug to the pen on his desk. His long, slender fingers hold the pen and write in a steady pace, he brings the pen up to his lips and sighs. He turns around to look at you, "You don't have to stay in here with me, I'm going to be doing this all night. Go check to see if one of my brothers needs any help."

You nod, "Understood." You leave his room and go visit the living room. You worked for everyone in the house, but Lucifer was the head of it all. You asked around to see if any one [ Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barb. To continue Lucifers story, keep reading. ] needed your help, they all respectfully declined, so you decided to do some light cleaning.

When you were done cleaning you glanced at the clock and saw it was almost 2am. Lucifer told you he was going to be up all night, so you were going to make him another cup of coffee to surprise him.

You stood outside Lucifers bedroom door, you could hear him groan and prepared yourself for his attitude. You lightly knocked on his door and made your way inside, "Hello, Master. I thought you might be due for another cup of coffee."

He was holding his head in his hands, his fingers intertwined in his hair. He didn't say anything. You quietly walked over to his desk and placed the cup next to him. You backed up and sat on the edge of his bed, just watching him.

After a few minutes Lucifer finally spoke, "MC, do you need me for something?"

"No, I just thought I could keep you company in case you need anything." You say.

"Ah, okay."

"I'll do anything I can to help you, Master."

"Not right now-" Lucifer pauses and his mind starts wondering...anything...

Relations between a Master and butler/maid is forbidden that was his own rule. But, who was going to tell? It was his rule. Lucifer decided to go for it, "Actually...I could use your help."

"Of course, what would you like me to do?"

Lucifer finally turns around to face you, "Get undressed. You’re going to help me de-stress.”

Your eyes widen and your face grows warm, you know relations between a master and butler/maid are forbidden, it was a rule set by your own Master. He was breaking his own rule, but did it matter?

You stand up and slow begin to remove your clothes until you stood fully nude in front of Lucifer.

You now watched Lucifer undo his pants, pulling out his large, hard cock. He then leaned back in his chair and patted his lap, commanding you to sit on his cock. You turned around and he placed a hand onto your hip to guide you and ease you down on him.

His, long, thick cock slowly entered your ass. Your breath hitched and your heart was beating out of your chest. He leaned forward into your ear, "You're taking it so well..."

"Th...thank you, Master..." You grip the arms of the chair and begin rocking back and forth on his cock. Your legs were wide open, your sex was fully exposed. Lucifer wraps his arms around you, one up by your shoulder, the other down to your sex.

Those long slender fingers quickly moved all over your sex, he didn't slow down for a second. You tried keeping up with the pace grinding faster on his cock, but he was too good and you came before him. Your orgasm was so intense, your body felt like jelly, but Lucifer wasn't done yet.

He moved you to the edge of his bed, he was going make you cum again, and this time he really wanted to take you over the edge. He grips your hips and uncontrollably pounds into you. It wasn't long until you were cumming again, it seemed he wasn’t going to stop until he came.

Your body is overwhelmed with the pleasure. Lucifer grips your hips and pulls you even closer to him, his cock throbs inside you, he lets out a loud grunt and his cum floods into you. You both take a minute to breathe and Lucifer pulls himself out of you.

You slowly move to a sitting position and watch Lucifer grabbed a towel from his closet, then hands it to you, "Thank you MC, I really needed that, you may go get cleaned up.”

"Yes, Master." You put your clothes back on and make your way to the bathroom to wash up. After you get out of the shower you go back to your room. Sitting on your desk was a cup of tea and a note from Lucifer, "Thank you again, I still have a lot of paperwork, I'll probably get stressed out again and need your help."

[marvelous-llama]

EXO recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

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[kalena-henden]

These are all the shows I’ve watched in 2023 so far...

finished:

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Unlock My Boss - Chae Jong Hyeop shines as an aspiring actor who winds up taking the roll of a lifetime as the new CEO of a tech company when the soul of the previous CEO gets stuck inside his phone. Wild concept but fun found family, corporate intrigue, and a sweet little romance that brews between the young new CEO and his assistant.

The Forbidden Marriage - Top 5 Kdrama. If you want romance, comedy, angst, and alot of love, this is your show. I had so much fun and was rewatching while it was airing.

King2Hearts - An unlikely romance sparks between a South Korean prince and a top North Korean (female) soldier leads to potential reconciliation between their two countries that is threatened by a crazy arms dealer whose cover is a magician. This a James Bond inspired, enemies to lovers, family dynasty, international war games drama. The unhinged villain has his own lair and minions but the only one who can match his off kilter mind games is the wily prince, who is equal parts smart, asshole, and lovable. The North Korean soldier is one of the only one’s who can go toe-to-toe with the prince to eventually bring out the best in him as they fall in love that is literally ride or die. There’s also a secondary romance with the princess and a royal guard. I loved parts of this and liked the rest.

Poong the Joseon Psychiatrist (S1 & S2) - I’m a big Kim Min Jae fan. He shines as a medical doctor who experiences trauma that drives him to suicide. He is saved by a passing noble woman and a short while later he saves her from suicide due to her own trauma. Both of them end up working at a rural clinic with another exiled doctor to treat the locals physical needs but also begin a new practice to treat people’s mental health needs as they try to recover from their own traumas. I loved S1 but S2 brought on some annoying new antagonistic love interests. It is a happy ending though.

Lighter & Princess - A poor computer programing genius clashes with an ambitious rich girl in his college classes but sparks fly when they vie for control of the school’s entrepreneurial programming club leading to unlikely but hard won romance. This was excellent. 

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Bora! Deborah (True to Love) - So much potential but a bit of a let down. I like both Yoo In Na and Yoon Hyun Min.

When the Weather is Fine - I was here for the small town romance with the local bookstore owner and the fun found family of their all ages book club. However, the last third of the story wallowed in the revealed family trauma too much and lost sight of everything else. 

Tale of the Nine-Tailed 1938 - When this was on point, it was compelling, funny and so much darn fun! There was bromance, romance, adventure, healing, friendship, and battles both personal and national. It had some slow times but overall Lee Dong Wook was clearing having the time of his life and Kim Bum stole the show as Lee Rang came into his own. 

Thirty But Seventeen - 10/10. Top 5 Kdrama. A teenage violinist gets into an accident and wakes up from her coma 13 year later to find the world vastly different. This was so much darn fun, great found family, cute romance, angst, and healing. Even when it was sad, I was so happy watching it. Shin Hye Sun, Yang Se Jong, and Ahn Hyo Seop are fantastic!

Something in the Rain -  I wanted so much to like noona romance with Son Ye Jin and Jung Hae In but man did it drag. Her mother is especially heinous. I completed it which was difficult.

See You in My 19th Life - I weirdly dislike-watched this in one weekend cause I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. It was okay. There were some interesting things about it with the relationships and past lives stuff but not for me.

King the Land - Lee Junho acted his heart out in this fluffy romcom and Im Yoona was a worthy partner in crime. I came to have a good time and they gave it to me. 

Heartbeat - Ok Taecyeon did a good job of carrying this unsteady vampire show that had some good moments but didn’t deliver on its premise. 

Legend of the Blue Sea - I really do like Lee Min Ho. He has a casual charisma that is undeniable. Jun Ji Hyun was an excellent literal fish out of water. While I liked the intertwining of the past and present lives, the story never quite hit the mark for me. Liked it, didn’t love it.

Never Have I Ever (S4) - This show never let me down. A satisfying finale season!

Meteor Garden (2018) - I needed more Dylan Wang after Love Between Fairy and Devil. This was an unexpected crazy fun ride. It was so outrageous at times. It inspired me to one day watch all the adaptations of Boys Over Flowers, as I’ve already seen 3 now. 

Hidden Love - A slow burn, age gap romance between a college girl and her older brother’s longtime friend. I really liked this but I wasn’t in love with it like everyone seems to be.

Nadiya’s Time to Eat - A fave Great British Bake Off winner’s cooking show. Inspiring.

Nadiya Bakes - And her baking show too.

Shadow and Bone (S2) - I think it improved on some things from the first season but they really crammed the second two books into one and some of Six of Crows too. Still a bit too fast-paced but I enjoyed it.

The Night Agent - An FBI agent gets an emergency call that starts a race to find a government mole and protect the informant. I binged this almost straight through. A good watch.

Queen Charlotte - This Bridgerton spinoff sheds light on royal power dynamics, mental illness, and social and racial divides.

LuLaRich - This is a compelling documentary on the rise and fall of Lularoe’s multi-level-marketing scheme. A must watch.

Sweet Magnolias (S3) - This is a comfort drama. I’m just here checking in to see how the little town is doing.

Star Trek: Picard (S3) - Showrunner Terry Matalas brings some of his 12 Monkeys (the tv series) magic to the final reuniting of the Next Generation cast while setting up a compelling potential Legacy spinoff.

My Lovely Liar - I enjoyed the romance between Hwang Minhyun and Kim So Hyun but the show itself is okay.

Destined With You - Magic, Curses, Past Lives, Symbolism, Spells, Fated Love. I thought it was going to be the next great fantasy romance but it chucked the fantasy halfway through and left a million unanswered questions at the end. At least we got a decent romance, even if the story lost its way. A big disappointment for me but I would recommend to see Rowoon acting his heart out in a cute romance.

The Uncanny Counter 2 - I was back to see the demon hunters fight for their humanity and loved ones again.

Celebrity - A solid takedown of influencer culture with mystery, intrigue, and a tiny bit of romance.

It’s Okay Not To Be Okay - I’ve been hearing about how good this drama is forever and it lived up to expectations. Great characters and development. I was surprised at how funny it was and enjoyed the romance too. Highly recommend.

True Beauty - This has been on my list for a long time and I needed more Cha Eun Woo while waiting for new episodes of A Good Day To Be A Dog. A great high school romcom with angst about a girl bullied for her acne getting a second chance at a new school who turns into a ‘goddess’ when she learns to do her own makeup. Love the romance, bromance and friendships! I love the second male lead as a character but never got second lead syndrome because I loved the main romance. I enjoyed the whole way through. 

Beckham - A docuseries about soccer (football to the rest of the world) star David Beckham that made you feel like you had front row seat to his past triumphs and struggles through the reflective lens of the present.

[mass-effect-galaxy]

The idea of having Morrigan in Bladur's Gate didn't leave me alone, so I thought of giving it a try.

This would be a Morrgian of an alternative ending of Dragon Age Origins: the Warden denied her the ritual and died killing the Archdemon. So, there would be no god-child growing inside Morrigan, and no need for her to vanish through an Eluvian. That way, she most likely wouldn't end up at the Orleasian court either.

This Morrigan would have returned to the hut in the Wilds. Flemeth is gone and won't return. She met her fate at the hands of Solas seven years later without ever seeing her daughter again. Morrigan would be living as an alchemist, making potions and ointments from the more exotic plants growing in the Wilds.

She would be selling these to the druids and villagers around but would also make a trip to the city at least twice a year to get better prices for the more elaborate brews. On that occasion, she was snatched off by the Mindflayers.

While Morrigan still prefers the company of animals to that of people, her travels with the Warden have made her feel lonely in the Wilds every now and then. She is still a rather asocial person and somewhat awkward in dialogues, in particular, poor in expressing her feelings, but at least she no longer hates (fears) other people out of principles (otherwise I couldn't recruit any companions or do any side-quests).

However, Morrigan is still Morrigan: totally selfish, rude, and likes to make fun of others. She is a druid for technical reasons (shapeshifting). While completely lacking the "peace and harmony"-attitude of the true druids, she does indeed care for nature in general and animals in particular. Not surprisingly, her rough behavior has earned her the respect of Lae'Zel while Shadowheart is totally in love with Morrigan. Gale and Wyll hate her.

Other than that, Morrigan is very interested in forgotten lore, ancient gods, forbidden knowledge, obscure rituals, and stuff like that. Her intelligence and wisdom are very high, while her charisma is somewhere rock-bottom.

[cryopathiic-a]

[ stormy ] sender arrives at receiver's doorstep soaking wet + i'm sorry if this is a bad time, but i need your help. (modern/forbidden @_@)

He usually would not be found in this appartment during these night hours. It had been made into more of a day reprieve, in the downtown, in the eye of the storm; there was a busy district right beneath and so the streets were always crowded and noisy and full of life. Especially during night-time. But today the rain was strong; and the news had spoken about an all-night pour. So there were only a few people dwelling in the street below and most undeground clubs had long sealed their doors for fear of waters pouring in through the streets.

And he'd stayed in. And he had been content in the company of little packets filled with all sorts of colorful pills and the tv playing some obscure late night game show with watchers calling in to guess a word that was far too obvious when a knock at the back door roused him from the couch. The cigarette was balanced at the edge of the tray. He wore a puzzled expression when he made his way to the appartment door, fastening the belt around his lounging robe—-

Only to be met with the last face he expected to see. Especially in that condition. Water was dripping from his chin and his hair was sticking to his face, the poor guy!

❝ Michi ? ... Oh god. Come to me, come here. ❞ Dōma bit down on a gasp before reaching out to pull the other closer by the shoulders, away from the fire escape stairway and under the threshold to shield him from the rain. There was a pre-emptive rub up and down Tsugikuni's forearms as a hasty attempt to warm him up a little. His younger counterpart seemed indifferent as to the mess they would be bringing in; what with Michikatsu's boots making a squelching noise with every step.

❝ What happened to you? Oh, you feel so cold... come sit. ❞ It was such a stark difference from the man he was used to seeing at that nightclub, always sitting upright on his barstool, poised and collected in spite of the seedy surroundings. But given his line of work, it wasn't impossible that the other had landed himself in some serious trouble. And so Dōma sounded genuinely worried about his condition as he dragged him inside; past the still playing TV and made him stand in the middle of the room.

❝ You're soaked to the bone! Do you not listen to the forecast or what? ❞ A playful tease, as he fumbled around the mess of blankets tossed over his couch to pick one and wrap it around the other's shoulders. ❝ Here, sit. I'll brew you some tea to warm you up, okay? And I'll get you a change of clothes. You poor thing... ❞ He strolled off to the kitchen to get some water going.

[enarmor]

A crumpled piece of parchment, written with an extraordinary penship of red ink. Discarded, abandoned, yet written with a shameless intensity few rarely see these days. It is Manuela who walks away from it, oblivious to her secret having stowed away from the prison of her chambers to land in a lonesome hall of the monastery. Red stains her fingers as the culprit author; the kiss upon the paper her favourite shade of lipstick.

“Kiss me until I am breathless, my love, and take the air too that dwells within my lungs. For what use are these, if not to breathe in the honeyed scent of you each waking morning, and find my lips enthralled upon the scents of your skin?If I cannot trace those peppered constellations which mark you, from the crook of your slender neck in which I find a home, downwards to skin carved in wax, and find myself suckling sweetness, partaking in your euphoria, then cast away this tongue of mine- it has no use! Be gone my lips, if they cannot drink the sounds you make each time we entwine; 

Be gone these hands, if they are forbidden from tracing you- your lines, your curves, your lust, it matters not. Farewell to this errant gaze, unless I might lay my eyes upon you under the moonlight glow and shining morning sun. I shall never see the stars unless you give them to me, plucking them from skies above to place within my vision.I shall never want to love unless you take this heart and consume it. Devour me, until I might never be a moment away from you.

Be this madness, or love, Dear Heart? I can hardly tell which these days, when my days are plagued with longing and my nights are filled with the phantoms of you.  But if this is madness, let my mind have no other peace- do not wake me from this wonderful dream, where all I need is you and you alone. Your hands need be the only chalice I shall imbibe from; to suckle the juices from your fingers as you feed me nightly is the only sustenance I require. Your heat is all I need to keep me warm; your heart for company and your smile for happiness.  Kiss me until I am breathless, my love, and then never let us part.”

So she, too, has a knack for poetry.

Then surely she must be the one. Surely she--this blushing belle--with her staff of flowing words must fit the final piece to Sain's puzzle. They ought to become kindred spirits, once he tracks her down. A taste of her own medicine, both in the hymns he sings and lips he'd press against hers, would solidify once and for all the brewing love in this maiden's heart.

And he thinks he knows exactly who wrote it.

"Lady Manuela~!" Sain wastes no time with his approach, hurried feet shuffling their way into a dancer's poise before her own. He carries with him her letter, convinced by his own longing that it was meant for him. Just as quickly as she had been approached, Manuela would find her hand taken by the Lance. A perfectly affectionate gesture for a perfectly affectionate woman. "Right away I noticed the contents of this note, how they sing with a praise befitting of an angel. Passion is your halo, endearment are your wings! A mortal man would be lucky to call you his goddess...

...Yet I would like to call you my love."

Noting how soft her fingers feel to the touch, the knight brings his lady's hand closer to his face. And with a smile--an unceasing smile--he gives to her the first kiss of many. Until she is breathless, he will continue, with the one delivered to her hand a mere taste of what's to come. "Sample me all you wish, grow mad with desire for your knight. Love can be blinding, but your grace has opened my eyes to the truth: it was fate's hand who brought this here to me, so that we might be forevermore. Come, darling. Lay your heart upon my chest. I shall stroke it and care for it, letting breathe to life the blossoms of your amour. With Sain, you shall be safe... With Sain, you shall be free..."

And to seal the deal, he pulls on her wrist like a string--inching them closer, closer, and closer still. So close that they could touch, if either of them makes the slightest of moves. He trusts Manuela knows what comes next. Letting go of her arm he brings his thumb to her chin, and tilts his own as it closes the remaining gap. Lips pucker into a heart, eyelids flutter shut... He is claiming for himself the breathless kiss the songstress so desires.