#I once got one caught on a rug and ripped it

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

It’s always my big toe at the scene of the crime.

[maple-the-awesome]

He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2

PART 2

Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🩵Fandom Masterlist

You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:

“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”

Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.

Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a  position to properly foster.

Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.

Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.

Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.

It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.  

It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.

Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.

Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either. 

It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.

Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night. 

Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing. 

Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…

Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early. 

Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.

As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.

A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?

Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.

At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).

Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.

When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours. 

Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.

You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.

Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?

You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…

Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.

He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?

If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.

Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.

Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.

You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.

You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.

You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…

Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.

First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.

Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.

Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.

There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.

Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.

One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…

Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 29)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: wedding night... activities

warnings: PURE SMUT!!! literally filth, i have no excuse. threesome, oral sex (F receiving), spanking, dom!Nesta, orgasm denial, face sitting, everything basically. slight talk of past trauma but that's it (seriously when y'all write threesomes why do your characters never discuss limits beforehand smh)

word count: 8.3k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry i fell off the face of the earth... again..... i got super depressed and forgot how to write but i'm back now! rip to the person who requested neris x reader smut and had to wait 28 chapters for it lol

DISCLAIMER: none of this is proofread and i WAS drunk when i wrote it so it's a disaster but it's smutty so feast away

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

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Your jaw hit the floor as you entered the unfamiliar room. Against the wall to your left was the biggest four poster bed you had ever seen, enough to fit at least 4 people with room for limbs to be spread but not touching. It was covered in a thick green blanket, with cream pillows and a knitted throw at the base. Almost-sheer gold curtains were wrapped from the top frame of the bed posters, held back by brass loops. There was a large, arching wall of flowers and branches surrounding a shelf behind the bed’s headboard. A few trinkets had already been strewn across the shelves – books, jewellery, a knife, all objects you had seen Eris possess. The floor was dark wood and elegant, with a large, red rug in front of the bed, offset by the most comfortable-looking, plushy chairs and couch you had ever seen. 

But what caught your eye the most was the expertly carved cinquefoil arches and pillars on the other side of the room that lead to a balcony. There were no windows between the pillars, but the room remained devoid of the chill of the night air. It was spelled, judging by the thin sheen of magic between the spaces. You couldn’t see the view at this hour, but you knew it would take your breath away.

Angling your head in amazement, you noticed two open doors on the right side. One led to what looked like a massive walk-in closet, while the other led to the bathroom. You followed the second door, peering in to see the largest bathing room you had ever seen. An enormous tub was carved into the floor at one end, a small fountain spurting from one end with dragon’s heads carved into it. Across from the tub was a spacious shower, with various faucets and shower heads at all angles and three shelves with different soaps and oils on them. Amazed, you stepped back into the main bedroom, too stunned to speak.

“So,” Eris smirked, sauntering up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, my love?”

Slack-jawed, you couldn’t find the words for a moment. You glanced at Nesta, who had come up beside you. Her eyes were wide, her soft lips parted ever so slightly in wonder. Everything in this room was perfect, down to the last detail. “Is this…” You tried to speak but your voice trailed off.

“Our room.” Nesta finished your sentence for you, her voice filled with awe.

You asked, “wait, did you know?”

Eris squeezed your sides gently. “She knew this was going to be my gift to you both. Unfortunately I had to tell her, as I needed her input in the construction of the shower. But this is the first time you have both seen it. It was originally a storage room, but I had it redone and it has been worked on for the past two months.”

You baulked. “Eris, I…” Once again, your voice trailed off. The scale of the room, the attention to detail, everything was specifically designed for you, Eris, and Nesta to live together without feeling cramped. Eris had done all of this for you, for Nesta. Even during those dark days where it seemed everything had gone awry, he had kept hope aflame with the building of this room. “I don’t even know what to say, this is incredible.”

Eris chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting his lips graze your ear as he murmured, “You don’t have to say anything. You both deserve it, and I am beyond thrilled that I have the honour of spoiling you like this. It is the least I can do, and it is just one of many endless ways I intend on proving my devotion.”

Instantly, your blood heated at the sensation and you let out a breath. You shivered slightly, face flushing at having your mate’s lips so close to your neck. The action did not go unnoticed. Nesta turned her head towards you, pupils widening with lust at the breath that escaped your lips. Eris simply moved even closer, his fingers stretching up your ribs ever so slightly. Even through the thick fabric of your wedding dress, your skin tingled where his fingers brushed and you sucked in a breath.

“My, my,” Nesta cooed, cocking her head and surveying you up and down like a dragon staring at her prey. The way her head tilted slowly, eyes aflame and each movement possessing a serpent-like quality reminded you of Athariel’s mannerisms – rider and beast, slowly morphing into a unified being. “Somebody is flustered easily.”

“That’s good,” Eris said smoothly, his voice like silk. “It means she listened when I told her she had to wait until the night of the wedding for her desires to be satisfied.”

“You really think I had time for any of that amidst the wedding chaos?” You tried to snap back, but your voice was breathy and weak. All you could think about was Eris’s hands on your sides and Nesta’s blue-grey eyes sizing you up. Your heart thumped louder in your chest as you realised your fantasies were going to be brought to fruition. All those weeks of having to suppress your urges were finally at an end. The sensation of your mates’ desire through the mating bond was almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in your body.

Eris dragged his lips up and down the side of your neck, chuckling darkly at the shudder your body involuntarily made at the sensation. “Fair enough, we have been rather busy, haven’t we? I’m surprised you’ve made it this long.”

Nesta gracefully took a step closer to you, her rich, warm scent enveloping your senses as she gently removed the crown from your head, setting it down on the dresser a few feet away. “Oh please, take what Eris says with a grain of salt,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s been struggling to hold back just as much as we have. He’s desperate too.”

The High Lord paused his movements along your neck, amber eyes narrowing at her. “Careful, Nesta.” He purred. “I had planned on being generous to my mates tonight, I’d hate for it to turn into an evening of punishment and teaching that smart mouth of yours a lesson.”

Nesta bit the corner of her lip,and you couldn’t help but notice the sudden shift in the position of her thighs. She shot Eris a glare, lifting her chin with a challenge. “You wish.”

Before Eris could reply, you let out a snort of laughter at her boldness. A mistake, it seemed, as both your mates whipped their heads sharply towards you. Your stomach fluttered with a delicious fear, one that sent heat between your legs. 

“Is something funny?” Nesta asked, a hint of a smirk behind her lips.

You shook your head, resisting the urge to chuckle again. Truthfully, you were impressed with the self-restraint of your mates. For so many, the snapping of the mating bond ignited a weeks long frenzy of fucking. But even after the bond snapped between you, Nesta, and Eris, there had been next to no sexual touching. Every ounce of your being desired to ravage your mates, but Eris’s wishes to refrain until the wedding were the string that held you together. No, your male mate liked control. It was something you had always known about him, something that often made your imagination run wild with other types of control he would enjoy exercising. While you certainly liked your fair share of being in charge, you craved Eris’s approval that came with doing what he asked… after a good amount of mouthing off, that is.

Nesta had held herself together almost as well as Eris, refusing to give into your sly attempts to find a loophole in his command the last few weeks. She shared very little of what her and Cassian had done together, but you were itching to find out what she liked. To explore what buttons you could push, the sounds you could draw out from her plush lips…

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Eris’s hand found its way into the locks of hair by your scalp, expertly tugging and pulling your head back against his solid chest. The moan that escaped you was completely involuntary, your body going haywire at the simple action of your mate. 

“Nesta asked you a question,” Eris said sternly, forcing you to look up at him. Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted your head back enough for him to stare down at you. His amber eyes were dark with lust, the crown upon his head and the smug look on his face painting the perfect picture of royal arrogance. “It would do you well to answer it.”

This time you managed to catch the whimper in your throat as Eris tilted your head to the side so you were upright and facing Nesta again. The way he moved your body around as if you were a piece of chess on his playing board sent a new wave of arousal through you. You felt torn in two, part of you wanting to submit and let him use you as he pleased while the other part wanted to challenge him and face the consequences he would no doubt dole out.

Nesta’s arms were crossed, pushing up her breasts ever so slightly, which your hungry eyes noticed right away. She raised a groomed eyebrow, “well?”

Deciding to give both of them what they wanted for now, you answered. “What’s funny is I thought you’d be more submissive, Nesta. Your remark caught me off guard. After all, I know how badly you want to please Eris.” The first sentence was entirely untrue, something all three of you knew. But you couldn’t help but add kindling to the fire. The masochistic part of your brain wanted to see how you’d be punished, and if it’d be enough to break you into submission.

“Brave words for somebody who’s about to be at her mercy.” Eris’s voice was low and smooth, his lips returning to your ear. 

Nesta simply stared you down evenly, wicked cunningness lurking behind her eyes. “Pathetic, she wants us to not be nice to her and is trying to goad us into doing what she wants.”

You shook your head, but excitement ran through your veins. You heard Eris chuckle from behind you, and Nesta let out an exhale. With the mating bond still so fresh and the three of you in such close proximity, you knew they had felt your body’s every reaction as if it were their own. Despite the chill autumn breeze, the room felt stiflingly hot.

Eris’s hands moved higher on your hips, fingers spreading and ever so slightly grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your dress. Nesta stepped forward as well, so close you could smell the honey-lemon tart she ate for dessert on her breath. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, but her eyes still donned that stern expression that drove you crazy. Before you could say anything, her slender fingers reached down and brushed against the inside of your legs through your skirts. An icy hot shiver went up your spine at the contact, and you couldn’t help but arch into Eris, who at this point was responsible for holding you upright.

“So, it seems that you have a choice to make, my dear,” Eris said in your ear, rubbing agonisingly slow circles along your sides with his fingers. “How do you want this night to go? Do you want me to be nice and focus on making you both feel good, hm?” With those last few words, Eris gave your hair another pull, tilting your head further to the right and exposing more of your neck. You cried out as his lips and teeth finally found your skin, gently kissing and biting with the perfect amount of pressure. Instantly, your breathing became uneven, your body desperate for more.

After a few moments of pleasuring the sensitive skin on your neck, Eris removed his lips and continued. “Or perhaps, you want something a little different, for me to be mean and turn you into more of a desperate mess than you already are.”

Suddenly, the gentle strokes of his lips and tongue from before were replaced with sharp canines sinking into your skin. You gasped, a new wave of arousal rushing through you like the waves of a storm. His teeth stung in the most delicious way, mixing with the pleasure arising in your body and making your head spin.

“I think we have our answer.” Nesta chuckled, moving her hands to rest on your hip bones just below Eris’s. “But I want to hear her say it.”

“I…” You stuttered, world reeling from the whispers of touches from Nesta’s hands on your hips mixed with the harsh biting at your neck from your other mate behind you. “I want you to do your worst.”

“Masochistic little fox.” Eris purred. “If you need us to stop, please speak up at any point. This may not be the traditional coupling of mates, but I want you to enjoy it.”

“Nothing about us is traditional.” You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That is true.” Nesta added. As if she couldn’t take the close proximity anymore, she crashed her lips into yours, squeezing your hips as she did so. Immediately, you placed your hands on her biceps, pulling her closer and moaning into the contact. Her mouth was soft yet all-consuming, and wetness almost immediately pooled between your legs. Nesta’s kisses have always turned you on in the several that you shared, but this was different. Before, they had been tender and longing, like a prayer echoing through an abandoned church. 

There was nothing tender about the way she was kissing you now. If her previous kisses were like a gentle creek flowing through the woods, this kiss was a tsunami. It bewitched your body and soul, her lips bold and claiming you wholly. You were hers, and she was yours – that’s all her kiss told you. You pulled her even closer, her chest brushing up against yours as Eris’s hands explored further, grazing your breasts more and more with each movement. You shuddered between them, lifting a hand and bringing it around Nesta’s neck, squeezing the back of it. She let out a moan, and you used the opportunity of her slack jaw to slip your tongue into her mouth, brushing her lips and tasting every inch of her.

After several minutes of being utterly consumed by the female, you felt her pull away. You let out a whine that was cut off abruptly as you were spun around to face Eris. His green cloak and dazzling crown had been discarded already, leaving him in his red and gold robes. Even without the royal symbols, there was no mistaking his power and status. It sent a thrill through you as you stared up at the male. Chuckling, Eris’s hand wove into your hair again as he pulled you forward, pressing his lips into yours. He was rougher than Nesta, a different kind of dominance, one that was nearly overwhelming. His lips were firm against yours, commanding every ounce of your attention, and you gladly gave it to him. The hand in your hair kept you immobile, unable to resist any which way Eris chose to move you.

You felt Nesta stir behind you, and after a few moments the strings trying together the back of the dress began to loosen. Her fingers expertly undid the material, and you eagerly pulled your arms from the long sleeves while keeping your lips glued to Eris. A shiver came over your body as Nesta’s fingers grazed your newly exposed skin, pulling the soft white and red fabric down your body and letting it fall to a heap on the floor before delicately removing the emerald necklace. Nesta also reached out and pulled the remaining few bobby pins out of your hair, releasing it from the previous mess of an updo it had become. 

You stood there in your underwear, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the evening’s festivities. You did not feel the urge to shy away and cover yourself as you had when getting undressed with previous lovers. Even as Eris pulled away and took a step back to drink in your naked form, you did not cower. You were his equal, and he yours. He would come to know your body like the back of his hand, there was no use in trying to hide it.

His amber eyes went from lustful to angry as they found the scar below your belly button, that cursed letter ‘M’ that his brother had carved into your skin. You bit your lip, pushing back memories of those awful encounters with Malgorm. 

“I hate the gods for letting this happen.” Eris muttered angrily, staring at the scar as if enough willpower could wash it away. “I am so sorry–”

You took a step forward, pressing your fingers against his lips to shush him. “What’s done is done,” You murmured. “We cannot change the past. We can find a way to permanently glamour the scar, as I do not wish for it to be on my body any more than you wish to gaze upon it, my love. Let’s not worry about it for now, okay?”

A slender hand on your shoulder made you turn to face Nesta. She had removed her crown and dress as well, leaving her just as naked as you. But her face was serious, breaking the teasing tension of the room as she spoke. “Are you sure this is okay? After everything that has happened, we don’t have to do this right away. We can wait.”

You shook your head. “No,” You said firmly. “I want this. I want you both. If I was unsure I would have said so. I trust you.”

Nesta’s voice was soft. “Okay. But is there anything off limits that might cause you to become… discomforted?”

You thought for a moment, hating the memories that flashed through your mind. But you endured it. Nesta was right – before anything happened, boundaries needed to be stated. “My neck…” You said slowly, remembering how hard Malgorm had grabbed you. “I don’t want pressure on my neck, please.”

Nesta nodded with understanding. You turned around to face Eris, whose gaze had softened. “I can work with that.” He said gently.

“What about you, Nesta?” You asked, facing your female mate once again. “What’s off limits for you?”

At first, the female visibly tensed, as if fighting off the urge to put those walls back up that she had so firmly in place when you first met her. Getting Nesta to be vulnerable with sex would be a journey, that much you knew. After how she described her couplings with Cassian and other males, this discussion of limits seemed new to her. She blinked slowly, and you could see the wheels in her mind turning. 

“Take your time,” you said softly, grabbing Eris’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

“My head…” Nesta said quietly after a moment, her eyes slightly glazed over as if reliving memories. “I would appreciate it if my head was not held down or restricted.”

Immediately, your mind thought of all the instances that explained this. The kelpie, the Cauldron, the human male who assaulted her, it all made sense. You nodded, then faced Eris once again to take the pressure off of Nesta. “And what about you, husband? Anything off limits?”

Eris scoffed half heartedly. “Nope. I am content with anything.”

You elbowed him lightly in the stomach, rolling your eyes. “You’re not funny. We’re trying to have a discussion here and you ruined it.”

The male made a noise of agreement, his eyes sobering up for a second before he sighed, removing the crown from his head and moving his fingers to unlace his robes. Nesta came up to stand beside you, her hand sliding into yours but her eyes fixed on Eris. Both of you stared as the male removed his robes and unlaced his tunic. You felt Nesta’s breath catch as Eris’s bare torso was revealed. Slender muscles were covered in faint scars. They looked to be from some sort of burning lashes – Beron’s doing, no doubt. Bile rose in your throat at the sight before you, at the thought of how bad these injuries must have been to still be scarred centuries later.

“My father liked to use his own fire on me,” Eris said slowly. “The wounds from the beatings disappeared fast, but my…. harsher punishments involved fire. I think in a way, he wanted me to fear our fire. But like many things in life, he failed.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “For this reason, I do not wish for pain to be inflicted upon me during sex. While I will inflict it if it’s something you want, I am firmly against being on the receiving end of it.”

“I understand.” You said, and Nesta murmured in agreement. Even with the scars, your body still heated up at the sight of Eris shirtless. They marked his skin like stars in the night sky, glowing in the candlelight. He was strikingly beautiful, every inch of him. From the way Nesta’s breathing changed beside you, he was having the same effect on her, too.

Finally, the arrogant smirk returned to Eris’s face. “Excellent, now that we are all in agreement…” His amber gaze fell upon you, making your knees weak as he spoke with lethal command, “Get on the bed.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but obliged, giving Nesta a quick kiss on the cheek on your way over. The mattress was soft and plushy as you sank down onto it, and you briefly wondered if you even wanted to know how much it had cost. 

All distracting thoughts vanished from your head as Nesta strode over, prowling like a dragon approaching a lost sheep. The silver light from the moon and the golden light from the candles illuminated her soft curves in an otherworldly way, the coronet now evolved into a simple loose, messy braid coming over her shoulder. She smirked as you leaned up to kiss her from your sitting position. Before your lips could reach hers, she chuckled and abruptly pushed you back so you were laying down. The yelp you let out as you unexpectedly fell back was cut off by a kiss, her mouth swallowing any noise you made as you melted beneath her. The rich scent of your combined arousals flooded the room, filling your senses.

Nesta’s thighs straddled you as she pressed her body into yours, her creamy skin brushing against you and making your nerves go haywire as she shifted her mouth to your throat, planting gentle kisses there before sliding further down your body. You reached down to try and pull her back up so you could touch her, but two silver flames appeared around your wrists, gently guiding them up over your head and twining into the bedframe, leaving your hands tied. You whimpered in complaint, causing Nesta to stop her kisses just above your breast. 

“I’m sorry, did you want to touch me?” She asked huskily, eyes dark. Her lips moved just above your nipple, her breath sending the bud into a peak.

“Yes.” You said breathily, trying to keep the desperate tone out of your voice.

Nesta gave your nipple a quick lick, causing your entire body to twitch before she continued. “Too bad, you have to earn it.”

“And how do I do that?” You snapped in frustration, unable to stop yourself. 

As quick as a snake, Nesta reached under your thigh and hoisted your hips off the mattress. With her other hand, she reached underneath and slapped your ass. Hard. Instinctively, you moaned loudly, pain and pleasure coursing through your body and creating even more wetness between your legs. Through half-open eyes, you saw Nesta blink in surprise then smile wickedly. She turned to Eris, who had discarded his bottoms and was palming himself through his underwear. A silent conversation passed between them, and you shivered with anticipation before Nesta turned back towards you. “Lose the attitude, love,” she said.

You huffed, but tried to force the attitude out of your voice. “Boring. What do I have to do to earn it?”

“You’ll have to beg us to let you cum, and you’ll ask permission to do so.”

“I don’t beg.”

“Oh but you will,” Eris chimed in, gently gliding his fingers down Nesta’s spine as she took your nipple in her mouth, causing you to moan. “And you’ll love every second of it.”

You couldn’t deny that. All you could focus on was Nesta’s mouth on you, her other hand fondling the other breast. All the squirming in the world was useless against those silver flame restraints, which was unyielding. Finally, Nesta shuffled down so she was kneeling on the ground with her upper body between your thighs. Involuntarily, your legs automatically widened as she settled in, which did not go unnoticed.

“Wow, you are desperate for me, aren’t you?” Nesta teased, running a finger up your inner thigh. “The lightest of touches have you soaked through your underwear, I can’t imagine how you’ll react when I get my mouth on you.”

You whimpered at her words that washed over you like warm water. You had never been this wet, this aching to be touched. Nesta was smug as her finger ghosted over your clothed slit, feeling the wetness of the thin material. Your hips jolted at the sensation, electric shock wracking your nerves. 

Your mates were going to be the death of you. Every instinct screamed to find a way out of the restraints and pounce on Nesta and Eris, but your desire to please them overpowered it.

“My, my, she’s sensitive,” Eris mocked. “I don’t think she’ll be able to handle what we’ve got planned.”

“She will,” Nesta said sternly before glancing up at you. “Won’t you?”

You nodded in blind agreement, the anticipation of not knowing what was coming next both exciting and terrifying you. “Good girl,” Nesta replied before grabbing your panties and tearing them in two, revealing your soaking wet pussy. She moaned at the sight of your exposed core, making you pool even further. Every sound she made, every look she gave you was enough to drive you crazy. Your thighs were near trembling as she lightly touched your clit, the contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves making you jump and your thighs twitch.

“Look how wet she is,” Eris said. “And we haven’t even done anything…”

Your eyes snapped open fully when you realised he had removed his underwear and was stroking his cock. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the male with his hand wrapped around his long cock, a smug expression on his face as he stared down at you like you were a piece of meat served up on a platter. “See something you like?” He said arrogantly as he noted your expression.

“Mother above, do I ever,” You replied breathlessly. “My brain doesn’t even know where to focus.”

Nesta said, “I think I can remedy that.” Without another word, the female’s head dove between your thighs, her tongue sliding up from your entrance to your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking. Bursting with pleasure, your back arched off the bed, hands angrily pulling against the restraints begging to touch Nesta. She repeated the pattern, licking and sucking in all the right spots and making your eyes roll back in your head. 

Cursing under your breath, you let out moans as Nesta ate you out. Her hands were wrapped around your thighs, burying herself as far into you as she could. You could feel her enjoyment and desire through the mating bond, which intensified the experience tenfold. Never before had you been this turned on this fast. Nesta had already figured out what made your body sing and was playing it like a violin. Eris was kneeling behind Nesta, pressing kisses all over her back. The sight of it turned you on even more.

You could pinpoint the exact moment Eris’s fingers found Nesta’s pussy. The female let out a moan that sent vibrations into your core, making your moan echo off of hers. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Nesta’s mouth on you and Eris’s fingers rubbing Nesta’s clit. Her face was screwed up with pleasure and a focused determination, her tongue never relenting against you.

“Isn’t she making you feel so good?” Eris asked you. “Nesta seems like she’s already doing very good with her mouth, I can’t wait to test it out myself.”

“So fucking good…” You murmured, causing Nesta to moan in approval between your legs.

The sounds between Nesta’s thighs intensified as Eris slipped a finger into her, curling it in a way that had her squirming in between you two. “Do you know how many nights I’ve had to get myself off to refrain from storming into your rooms and dragging both of you into my bed to be fucked senseless? I’ve had so many fantasies about what I want to do to you two, even with an eternity ahead of us I don’t know if we’ll have time to complete them all…” The male continued, cocking his head and pushing his hips forward, letting his cock rub against Nesta’s ass. “Is this everything you dreamed of, my love, hmm?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, hands gripping onto the headboard as you writhed underneath Nesta’s mouth. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, coupled with the sight of Eris behind Nesta’s kneeling form with his knuckles buried inside her, you felt yourself approaching the journey to your climax within ten minutes, a new record for you.​ Your mate between your legs whimpered as Eris’s movements seemingly sped up, but she kept her blue-grey eyes open and looking up at you. Incoherent noises escaped your throat as you began to plead. “Please…” you begged. “I’m getting close…”

“Close to what?” Eris asked mockingly, his voice perfectly even as if he wasn’t curling his fingers inside Nesta so tactfully that she was shaking slightly. “You have to use your words, my love.”

You felt your orgasm building at a rapid pace, coming crashing towards you like a tidal wave. “Please… I’m gonna–” Your words were abruptly cut off as you were unable to hold back the inevitable. Like water overflowing a cup, your orgasm washed over you, spreading that warm electric sensation through your nerve endings. Nesta groaned with pleasure as your hips bucked against her face, grinding into it as you rode out your high. The world went silent around you in those few, stretched out seconds. It was an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced.

With shaking legs you caught your breath and Nesta finally removed her tongue from your cunt. You watched through hooded lids as she leaned her head back, and Eris bent down and kissed her hungrily, lapping up your juices. One of his hands grabbed her breast, squeezing it in his fingers and making her moan into his mouth. They were like two gods in a painting before you, one you would happily stare at for the rest of your life.

The silver flames around your wrists vanished, and you eagerly brought your arms back down to stretch them out. When Nesta and Eris eventually separated, they turned their gazes towards you. And you knew you were fucked from the wicked look in their eyes.

“I’m sorry–” You began apologising, but Eris cut you off.

“We asked you to do one thing, and you couldn’t even do it…” He said with gleeful disappointment. “A shame, I had such a lovely reward in mind for you if you had just been a good girl.”

Nesta scoffed. “I think she wanted the punishment.”

“She will regret that very soon.” Eris stood up and strode over to your side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him. “Did we say you could cum?”

You shook your head, earning you another harsh tug that elicited a moan. “I asked you a question,” Eris hissed. “Did we say you could cum?”

“No…” You stuttered weakly, shrinking beneath his and Nesta’s gazes.

“Then why did you?”

“It felt too good, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Do you think flattery will keep you from punishment?”

You sheepishly shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?”

Eris barked out a laugh, grabbing you gently by the hands and guiding you off the bed. Your legs still felt weak, and had it not been for Eris you would have surely stumbled in your first few steps. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta smugly smirking at her handiwork, her cheeks flushed. 

But Eris’s hand grasped your chin, turning your focus to him as you met his gaze. “Go to the empty space on the wall,” He said slowly. “And place your hands on it and spread your legs.”

You baulked, eyes widening. The evil grin on his face sent chills up your spine. Despite your recent orgasm, your body began to heat up again. Knowing better than to protest this time, you did as you were told. The sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the large bedroom as you walked over to the gap in the wall between the fireplace and the corner area. Taking a deep breath, you faced the wall and placed your hands on the smooth wood. It was cold beneath your touch, a soothing sensation against your sweating palms. You mentally cursed your body at how quickly it was recovering and ready for a second round. The mating bond was thick with desire so palpable you could feel it.

You heard footsteps coming up behind you, and you knew without looking that it was Eris. His presence could be felt creeping up on you as if it were your own shadow. You flinched as he put his hands on your waist, pressing his chest into your back. His cock rubbed against your ass as it did with Nesta’s, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. “If you want something, you have to ask for it,” Eris murmured in your ear. “Those are my rules, and you have already broken them. I am going to spank you ten times, and you’re going to fucking take it. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Eris.” You whimpered. Behind you, his cock twitched at the moaning of his name and the male groaned. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta take a seat in the nearby chair with a glass of white wine in hand. She had run a comb through her hair, and when she caught your gaze she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me for help,” she chided. “You’ve done this to yourself. I will not get you out of this.”

You sighed, trembling in anticipation and waiting with bated breath for the first strike. Wasting no time, it came seconds later. Eris’s hand came down on your right ass cheek, hard. From your throat came a guttural cry, one you didn’t know you were capable of making. It was a cross between a scream and a moan, crossing into the latter as the impact from the initial sting melted into a white hot pleasure. You barely had time to recover before the second one came on the other cheek this time, drawing out the same response.

“Good girl…” Eris murmured, rubbing your ass and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You sighed beneath his touch, melting into it. 

But the tenderness didn’t last long. By the seventh spank, tears pricked the corners of your eyes. 

“Aw, look at her, Eris,” Nesta spoke up. “You’ve made her cry.”

Your laboured breaths drowned out his response as you pressed your forehead into your arms, which you had valiantly kept pressed against the wall. Your ass stung and sweat dripped down your forehead. But the cherry on top was your dripping cunt. Wetness had seeped down your thighs, glistening in the candlelight of the room on display for everyone to see.

You felt Eris’s hand brush some stray hairs out of your face, and he leaned in close to murmur into your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You whispered, nodding feverishly. 

There was no teasing in your mate’s voice as he spoke. “Do we need to stop?”

“No,” You insisted. “I can handle three more, I promise.”

You felt Eris nod against you before pulling away and continuing to rub your ass, which already donned the formations of several dark bruises. You turned your head towards Nesta, who was watching the scene with lust in her eyes. “You’re doing so well, my love,” she said tenderly. “You can do it.”

With a newfound determination, you forced your body to relax as Eris’s hand came down again with a loud smack, making you wince and grow wetter at the same time. Then again, and again. Finally, after the tenth smack, you collapsed your head into your arms again, panting. Your legs felt as weak as a newborn deer, gangly and unstable. You didn’t even have the energy to react as Eris swiped his fingers through your slip, sampling the wetness gathered there. 

He chuckled darkly. “My, my, somebody sure enjoyed that.”

“I’m not surprised, given her reaction to my one slap earlier.” Nesta said, placing her wine glass on the table next to her before standing up and making her way over to where you and Eris were standing. She wiped some sweat from your brow with a cloth and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Well done.”

“Is my punishment over?” You asked weakly.

“Not quite,” Eris responded, gently guiding you over to the chair Nesta had been seated in. “You’ve demonstrated a lack of patience, which is unacceptable. So you are going to learn to be patient, and you are going to sit here and watch me fuck Nesta.”

“And you’re not allowed to touch yourself,” Nesta added sternly as Eris pushed you into the chair, which was now turned to face the bed and had a glass of water next to it. Truthfully, your body was relieved at the idea of getting a break. Your muscles ached from the trembling, and the idea of watching your mates fuck each other made your body heat up. So you nodded, getting a kiss on the cheek from each of your mates before they made their way to the bed. After taking a sip of the ice cold water, you leaned back in the plushy chair.

Nesta knelt on the bed, her long locks cascading down her back as she looked up at Eris. He stood before her at the edge of the bed like an altar she was worshipping, his lean muscles illuminated by the moon. He bent down and kissed Nesta as if she contained the last molecules of air left in this universe, his lips moulding into hers perfectly. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched her shoulders relax as she melted into his kiss. Desire began to build in you once again, just by watching your mates share a heated kiss.

With a shove on the shoulder, Eris pushed Nesta into the bed so she was laying down. He wasted no time crawling over her body and pressing heated kisses across her chest. As his mouth came to her nipple, Nesta moaned and wound a hand in the male’s red locks, arching her back into his touch. Your palms itched with the urge to go over there and help, but the soreness of your ass reminded you to stay in your seat. 

“Fuck, these are gorgeous…” Eris murmured before switching to her other breast. He groaned into the mound of flesh as Nesta’s grip in his hair tightened, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the chamber.

Don’t touch yourself, you reminded yourself. No matter how hot the scene before you was, and despite the fact you normally loved being punished, you knew your mates were the type to only be so forgiving.

Grabbing one of Nesta’s long legs, Eris placed a kiss on the inside of her calf, working his way down. Nesta’s breathing shifted, her hips squirming to try and meet his face, but the male swerved every time and kissed her thigh instead. More arousal pooled between your legs as you watched Nesta squirm beneath Eris.

“Please, Eris…” Nesta breathed, her cheeks red and eyes half closed with desire.

The red haired male stopped, his lips centimetres above her pussy. “Please what?”

“Please use your mouth on me…”

Nesta’s pleas made you whimper. All you wanted to do was go over there and satisfy her, to have her clamp her thighs around your head until the world crumbled into ash before you. Eris turned his head to face you, where you were gripping the arms of the chair. “See how she asked nicely?” He said to you, “Now she’s going to get what she wants. It’s that simple.”

His pale fingers gripped Nesta’s hips tightly, pinning them down to the mattress as he brought his face between her legs and began his work. Immediately, Nesta let out a loud moan – she was much more vocal than you, letting her noises out shamelessly as she was pinned down. After several minutes, Eris easily slid two fingers into Nesta, stretching her out yet still keeping her hips still with only one hand. 

“Oh, fuck…” Nesta cried out as Eris curled his fingers inside her, one of her hands gripping the sheets while the other palmed her breast. Her eyes fluttered closed, and it was only minutes later when Eris pulled away. Nesta whined at the loss of contact, and he let out a growl, grabbing her leg and hitching it up against his waist. You watched with a slack jaw and clenched legs as Eris lined his cock up with Nesta’s entrance before slowly pushing it in. 

Nesta’s face contorted, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth opening in pleasure as Eris pushed himself to the hilt. His head tilted back, and his jaw clenched with pleasure. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hand so hard it almost bled, the sensation of watching your mates’ blissed out expressions almost overpowering.

Eris leaned over Nesta, one hand on her thigh keeping it up against his hip while the other planted itself beside her shoulder. It only took a few minutes for him to pound in and out of Nesta, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and drowning out Nesta’s moans. Eris was fucking Nesta hard, her toes visible curling with each thrust.

As Nesta’s legs began to tremble not ten minutes later, Eris slowed down his thrusts, making her whine. He turned his head towards you, a devilish grin on face. “So, my dear,” he said to you. “Do you think Nesta deserves to cum?”

Surprise flickered in you, and seemingly in Nesta too, for she turned her head sharply to look at you with wide eyes as Eris’s hand rubbed her clit. “P…please…” she begged you, desperation written all across your face.

You were torn in two. You wanted nothing more than to see Nesta cum, to watch her writhe underneath Eris as she rode out a blissful high. But the sinister part of you wanted to show her that you weren’t the only one who could take charge.

After a minute, you came to your decision. “No.”

“What?!” Nesta sputtered angrily as Eris pulled out of her, chuckling. Her hair was stuck to her face, her lips swollen from kissing and her cheeks red. Her grey eyes shot you a  furious glare.

“That’s my devilish little fox,” Eris purred, beckoning you over with a finger. “You took your punishment very well, and I think it’s time for a reward.”

“Please,” you begged pathetically as you laid down on the bed beside Nesta, desperate for any physical contact. 

Sensing that, Eris gave you a quick kiss before grabbing your hips and spreading your legs with his knees. You were so soaking wet that after checking your comfort with two fingers, Eris lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you with ease. The breath was knocked out of your lungs at the impact, the delicious stinging pain of the stretch quickly melting into pleasure as it had with the spanks. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his soft grunts filling the air.

Beside you, Nesta sat up, a playful look in her eyes replacing the furious one. She grabbed your hair just as Eris had, forcing you to look at her. “Since you decided to be a brat and not let me finish after I was so nice to you, I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours to shut you up and use you to finish myself off. Got it?”

About to burst with happiness that your plan worked, you nodded eagerly, shifting your shoulders to get more comfortable. Seeing the smugness on your face, Nesta rolled her eyes but released her hair, spinning her hips to face Eris. She then swung her leg over your face, leaning forward to place her hands on your breasts and play with them as she lowered herself down.

You moaned into her pussy, tasting the mixture of her and Eris on your tongue, eagerly lapping it up. You used the tip of your tongue to flick her clit, making her legs twitch around your head. Repeating patterns of licking and sucking, you gripped Nesta’s hips tightly as she grinded herself into your face.

Eris’s thrusts had somehow gotten more powerful, making you whimper into Nesta. Your wife let out a moan at the vibration, then Eris’s fingers found your clit. You were oversensitive, and as a result moaned repeatedly between Nesta’s thighs. Her legs began to shake around you, her hands squeezing your breasts as she panted, “Can I please cum?”

“Yes.” Eris grunted, his own thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his own release. Seconds later, Nesta moaned wantonly, her legs clenching your head and shaking like an earthquake as you sucked on her clit, drawing out her release. She cried out, her orgasm wracking her body as she grinded her hips into your face even more. You happily took it, whimpering as her moans spurred both you and Eris on towards your own release. 

As Nesta dragged her trembling self off of your body, she flopped down beside you. Her fingers quickly took Eris’s hand’s place at your clit, rubbing back and forth harshly. You nearly screamed at the sudden pressure, white hot pleasure pooling in your gut ready to burst.

“Come for me, my love,” Nesta purred in your ear.

That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your muscles clenched as your release shot through you, and you gasped with the sudden wave of pleasure. Nesta murmured praises in your ear as you rode your high, and Eris let out a growling moan as his hips sputtered, your clenching around his cock spurring on his orgasm. You cried out as his cum shot into you, the sensation almost overwhelming and prolonging your high. 

Finally, the ironclad grip on your hips released and Eris slowly pulled himself out of you. Your legs twitched, all three of you panting in an attempt to catch your breath. Deep down, you felt whole, as if the mating bond had somehow grown even stronger since before the wedding. It was as if a piece of you had been missing before you met Nesta and Eris, and they were slowly filling that void with pieces of their own.

“Does anyone fancy joining me for a shower? I’ll have someone deliver our favourite snacks afterwards,” Eris asked, standing up and holding his hands out for you and Nesta. Eagerly, you both took his extended hands and headed towards the newly built bathing room.

As the three of you stood under the multiple shower heads, tenderly washing each other when needed, you felt happy tears prick your eyes. The Nesta you met six months ago was a shell of herself, angry, with walls as high as Ramiel that refused to be crumbled by anyone. She was an object in another male’s court, a pawn in the games he played. An aggressive animal that was to be locked in a cage and only lured out when they had use for her. That Nesta never would have let anyone wash her hair, or cuddle beside her in bed. The Nesta standing beneath the shower with you was a changed female, one who knew her value and was now finally free to make her own choices without threats being made at every corner. She laughed freely, smiled more often, and the life had returned to her eyes.

Eris was a male who you never thought would tenderly kiss your forehead, or kneel before you to help you wash your legs. To be raised in an environment as harsh as Beron’s shadow, you knew how lucky you truly were that his heart stayed good. No matter how often he would deny it, you knew he was a good male.

And so all of the horrors you had faced in the last six months washed away with your happy tears in the shower, your wife and your husband beside you to hold you up no matter what.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful  @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-99 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford  @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @red-bees @daughterofthemoons-stuff @bloodicka @blackgirlmagicforever @writeroutoftime @paleidiot @

[phoenix-eclipses]

Casting Love 1.1 - Excuse to Jump a Rich Man

The day Iwaizumi got back, you dragged both Taro and Tsukki with you to go greet him once he got off the bus. You had hoped not to mention the situation with your dad at all. Wishing to just push it under the rug as a secret that you'd only share with the two blondes but when the door to your place is opened, there's a letter on the floor waiting for you.

Even if you weren't there when he had been there, you'd recognize the hand writing on the envelope from anywhere. You caught the looks you received from Taro and Tsukki as you crouched down and picked it up. Part of you wanted to rip it apart right at that moment, but you still wished to keep it as a secret so you just pocketed it in your jacket pocket while smiling at your friends.

An hour passed.

Iwaizumi unpacked, Oikawa called due to missing the group and you all happily chatted. What you didn't expect was Iwaizumi's curiousity in the letter so when you took your jacket off and walked to the restroom, he pulled the letter out, the two blondes unaware as they listened to Oikawa's rambling. He doesn't even need to open the letter to catch the familiar stamp on the back.

Your last name, in unbearably fancy font made into a custom stamp. One he was familiar with every few months when your portion of rent, "gifted" to you by your father, was delievered. But it was never given like this, from your doorstep. It was normally found in your mailbox in the lobby.

"Yn, open this."

Iwaizumi didn't even give you a chance to sit back down the moment you reentered the living space. He held out the envelope for you. You cautiously took the letter from him, but didn't start opening it.

"It's from your dad, isn't it? I think he was here when you were visiting those two."

"...he was," the words come out, guilt weighing down on you. "That's why I went to their place."

"Did he speak to you?"

"I left the moment I saw him."

"...why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew you'd try to come back home."

He let out a soft sigh, ending the call with Oikawa before pulling you to sit next to him. Silence in the room, but you could feel the rage radiating off of the man next to you, directed to your father.

The video showed Kenma's usual background screen during interludes in his streams and captions popped up as he spoke.

"Hello, I'm sure a good majority of you all have seen the tweet made by Kuroo at this point."

There's a small sigh, barely caught by the microphone before he continues.

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. I am not dating anyone, or romantically involved with anyone. As I've mentioned briefly in other streams, I am a university student and a price to pay with that is occasionally group projects. For one class, I have an assigned partner the whole semester and due to that, Kuroo has become familiar with them as well. That is who Kuroo was referring to in that tweet."

The video ends a second after that.

Intermission -- Masterlist -- 1.2

Notes

This took way too long, I was being murdered by finals tbh

The whole friend group has a fair idea of how yn's dad is, and all of them hate him

Also does anyone expect Kenma's video to properly help the drama die down?? Hm???

Everytime drama happens, Tsukki tries to say its a Japan problem just because he thinks its funny to rub it in Tooru's face that he's so far away

This lil section of chapters is when stuff actually starts picking up so look out for that!!

Taglist

@staygoldsquatchling02 @walllflowerrrsss @oyasumeii @rinnylvr

@bi-bi-papillon @ris-krispie @madiexuberant @giocriedpower

@lunavixia @singleandlonely @yuminako @from-mae @3lectraheart

@kodzusora @skycasin0 @scinclaitnoir @itsdragonius @d3ly-p4v

@anqelkoz @kodzubaby @mirtaspace @writing-for-the-hell-of-it

@anteroz @yuki-sama6 @mawenskiblue @getoloverr @zozodahobo

@katnot-cat

[noxturnals-void]

My Dearest Shadow

Jason Voorhees x GN! Reader

Pt.3

(It might lean fem at times but I’m going to try my best to keep it neutral for everyone!)

Read Pt. 2 here

Read Pt. 1 here

Tw: stalking, anxiety, paranoia, jason being really hard on himself

2,273 words below the cut

Previously in Chapter 2:

He couldn’t move now. He couldn’t turn and walk away, not that he had any desire to. He didn’t want you seeing any more of him than you already had. He was stuck behind this tree. Stuck and too nervous to think of what to do next.

What was he supposed to do…?

—

You guardedly took a few steps closer, creating a slight arch in your steps to try to see beyond the massive tree. "I-" you began. "I know you're there," you called out, the figure shifting further behind the tree once it had caught on to your movement. You should have been unsettled by whoever was still stalking you, but it had been so long. You only wanted to know who it was- why they watched you so adamantly.

"Please," you called again, standing still and scanning the hand and part of a bulky shoulder that you could make out. "I'm not..." What were you supposed to say? That you weren't scared? You were terrified. That you weren't upset? You weren't, but why would you have been? That you weren't a threat? They were more of a threat than you at this point, weren't they? What were you supposed to say? "I'm not sure what you want from me." You admitted slowly. Honestly, part of you wondered if the person was only interested in your cabin- that maybe they were homeless. But that didn't make much sense when it came to how distant yet protective they were of you.

Thick silence swelled into the cool air following your unsure words, and you had the feeling they wouldn't want to talk to you, but you tried again anyway. "I know you've been... watching me for a while now. I know you've helped me before." You confessed and stepped around a few more paces to get a better look at them again as you spoke. "I just don't understand. I just want to understand why. Why are you out here? Why are you..." You finally got far enough around the tree to see most of the figure.

Whatever words were about to come out died in your throat almost immediately at the sight of the literal giant standing as solid as a statue behind the tree trunk. His hulking body had to be at least 6 feet- more likely 6 feet and many inches on top, and he was massive. Massive in the way of being incredibly muscular, towering easily over anything his way.

It was definitely a man; his clothes were enough to give that away. They were smaller fitting than they should have been. His shirt was ripped and frayed at the hem, caked in dirt and some questionably dark stains that almost appeared black in the light of the woods. The shirt drew tight across his chest when he breathed in, noting his covered features beneath. He wore an equally rugged black jacket over it, the material also ripped and stained, taut around the bulk of his arms and shoulders. Below, he wore dark pants littered with small holes and hand-sewn patches while his feet filled out worn-out boots.

Your eyes dragged back up his enormous body and locked onto his face, or rather, the mask covering it. Something in your chest knotted and sank into the pit of your stomach when you saw the man’s head tilt, solidifying that he was real. He was real, and he was standing right there. This person was the one to watch you most of your days for the past year and a half. This stranger was the one who followed you around in this slice of wilderness- he was the one who brought you in from outside when you had fallen asleep those times.

A tremble ran through your body, trying to comprehend everything all at once. The coolness of the breeze reminded you that you were outside—that five minutes ago, you had been spared of this knowledge. Part of you was relieved to have a picture of the person who stalked you constantly, and another part of you was unsure if this was the information you wanted to answer that question with—leaning toward wanting to picture something different in pure ignorance.

It wasn’t that he was unsightly. It wasn’t that he was oddly dressed or enormous. It was just anxiety-inducing. It was hard to wrap your mind around this man, the owner of the eyes that had dutifully followed your every move. Suddenly, having the stranger you’d grown to appreciate watching over you from a distance right before your eyes made you queasy.

You realized then and there you’d grown accustomed to the idea of this stranger. The thought of him. Not the reality of him.

By this time, he had noticed you—turning slightly to face you and looking just as tense as you felt. Obviously, he hadn't intended for you to see him, and he hadn't. He had been lulled by your voice speaking to him—passively listening without considering your footsteps getting closer.

It was the first time you'd ever acknowledged him, and he had been soaking up the one-sided interaction, soothed by how tender and kind you sounded. Your voice trailed to silence, and the paranoia of being seen set into him like a swift punch to the gut. His head turned, and he was completely caught off guard by you standing and gaping at him merely ten feet away. His apprehension had returned instantly, and he found himself frozen under your gaze.

You must have seen him as a monster, he thought, hands twitching by his sides at the idea of you running off terrified. Now, he simply counted. Counting the seconds until your eyes raked over him fully and your brain caught up with the horrifying creature before you and ran back to your haven. The thought drove a stake through his chest.

Maybe you would have called the police, forcing him to flee or perhaps kill again. Maybe you would have barred the entrance to your home and hoped he wouldn't come after you for your flight. His imagination ran in circles, and his mind was molding a more depressive ending to this unplanned encounter. There was no situation that he could imagine this going over smoothly.

You took a few steps back, eyes still glued to his mask in a doe-eyed expression. You were frightened, and if you ran, he wouldn't chase you. That would’ve only scared you worse, and he'd already done so much to protect you. To be there for you, even if he couldn’t be beside you. He stayed perfectly still, observing as you shuddered a small breath and held your arms out with flat hands.

"h-hold on," you tried to speak. Still, it came out as a weak whisper, clearing your throat to try again. "w-wait here... please." You followed up more audibly, anxiety piling into your stomach and hoping to come across as polite as possible- not wanting to get on whatever unstable side this strange man might’ve had. You didn't even know what you were doing, and neither did he. He was confused and nervous.

Why were you telling him to wait? Wait for what?

You skittered to your cottage like a frightened little animal, and for a long minute, he stood and figured he had been right about you running off to your home. He began to turn, prepared to walk away, until his mother interrupted his action with a firm command not to move an inch from where you'd left him. He reluctantly returned to the position he had barely moved from, not seeing the point in waiting if all you would do was hide. But he stood there nonetheless. Waiting.

Meanwhile, you anxiously threw together a peace offering- not exactly sure what you were doing but hoping somehow it would make the giant more pleased with you. You got the feeling from that short interaction he didn't like you, particularly now that you had seen him face to kind-of-face. The last thing you wanted was to upset him- not when he looked so capable of causing you harm.

You grabbed a smaller harvesting woven basket, the closest thing you could find, and packed it full of baked goods you'd made over the past week.

You'd needed a reason to get rid of some of the muffins you'd made too much of earlier this week anyway. Your mind raced with how ridiculous and stupid this was, but it continually looped around to understanding that this was all you could do right now—it was all you could come up with. As dumb as it felt, maybe the gesture would keep the man from being so distant.

It was odd. You didn't specifically want the man to get closer to you or your cabin, but you also didn't want him to hide away as if you could never lay eyes on him. Call it your people-pleasing habit, but you wanted the man to like you. At the very least enough he wouldn’t harm you. He was still human, wasn't he? He still needed food. You had the feeling that even though he looked in decent health, he probably didn't have much in the way of supplies. You couldn't imagine what he had been living off of, though, from the random traps set in parts of the forest you’d come across in the past; it wasn't hard to guess.

He was taken aback when you scurried from your home, your arms holding a little woven basket piled with the treats you'd made earlier that week. He'd watched you bake them all. The muffins, the bread, and the scones. They had smelled and looked amazing, but he never thought he'd taste any of it. Were you genuinely offering your food to him? Was he imagining this?

You slowed as you got nearer. Relief and a fresh wave of anxiety washed over you when you noticed him still standing just behind the tree. He quite literally didn't look like he had moved a muscle since you left. Part of you was glad that he had decided to listen, and another part of you was apprehensive at the idea he hadn't moved.

You cautiously regained the ground you'd lost after being away for a few minutes, taking a deeper breath to calm your nerves as you held out the basket. "I don't know why you've been... shadowing me for so long," you bent at the knees, not taking your eyes off the yellowed hockey mask. You stared at him as if he would decide to pounce at any moment. And he might’ve, you considered. After all, even after all this time and how comfortable you’d gotten with his ceaseless presence, you honestly didn’t know a thing about this strange person living in the woods.

His head tilted, confirming he wasn't a statue again and that he was watching as you gingerly set the basket on a patch of grass. "but… thank you." You finished slowly. Despite your anxiety about not knowing him or why he took an interest in you, you truly were thankful for him watching over you. With all your nervousness being this close to him, he still gave off more of a protective aura than dangerous.

He stiffened, staring at your cautious figure and wondering- puzzling- over why you were thanking him. Were you thanking him for following you? For watching over you? Did you realize he meant you no harm? Did you see that he was just trying to keep you safe? Did you... Did you see him as Jason? Not a monster?

"I-I just," you gulped, stumbling over some twigs as you took a few steps back. "It's just some food..." You realized partway through your words that he probably knew what the food was already since he'd likely watched you make it. "that I made..." you mumbled dumbly, unable to peel your eyes away from him just in case. "I hope you... like them." You awkwardly dismiss yourself from the tense atmosphere and stumble back a few more steps, putting enough distance between you and him that you feel more comfortable turning around to retreat indoors.

He watched as you scampered away again, this time with no intention of returning, he suspected. His head tilted down, and he looked over the basket of baked goods, smelling the sweet and savory aroma the food had given off through the breeze. I’m his head, his mother's voice nagged him to take the basket, telling him it would have been rude to reject such a kind offer from someone who finally treated him well. He had no choice but to agree. He bent over and grabbed the basket, turning and continuing his usual routine with the baked treats in hand.

His heart pounding in his chest and his face much too hot under the mask made it difficult to focus on walking the perimeter of the campgrounds. But he trudged on, unable to get the sight of your lovely face or bewitching eyes out of his mind as he finished his afternoon rounds.

He didn't quite know how he would have returned the basket to you, not wanting to spook you more than he already had. He contemplated leaving it at your door sometime at night so you could find it easily. He glanced over the treats and tilted his head—should he have also given you something in return? He didn’t want to give the basket back empty. It was only polite that he found something suitable to repay your gesture.

What could he possibly give to you?

Tags:

@imhungry675 @bimboshaggy

[inkwell-intrigues]

ROUGH DRAFT - Chapter One: An Unexpected Guest

The eerie sound of a never-ending tapping filled the once lavish office. Torn newspapers littered the floor, their headlines taunting a hunched over figure in the center of the room, whose eye would dart from page to page, tapping his clawed fingers ceaselessly in anger.

With a growl, the newspaper that was being read suddenly burst into flames and was tossed aside. Glancing around, the latest issue of the Honeycomb Herald caught the figure’s eye. Snatching it up with a mangy hand, he began to read the front page article, his grip tightening with every word.

---

Devil Defunct?

Has the Devil finally left the Inkwell Isles?

It has been 3 months since the dumbfounding defeat of the Devil himself by none other than two youngsters at a mere 10 years of age, no less! Now as the weeks go by and all remains calm, the citizens of the Inkwell Isles cannot help but ask, “Is it over?”

The Devil's lair, Mt. Inkwell Hell, has sealed itself off, as if the Devil's Casino never existed, ever since that fateful day two children stood up to the King of  the Underworld. Though gamblers from Inkwell and beyond vehemently protest, the rest of us upstanding citizens breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

But even in our newfound paradise, rumors have already begun to spread regarding the Devil’s return. There are reported sightings of his devious imps and King Dice’s playing cards sneaking about and causing all sorts of mischief. Although none of these sightings have been confirmed, it presents a worrying question: Is the Devil still here, under our very noses, lying in wait to strike?

To quell our concerns, we turn to vibrant victors and heroes of the Inkwell Isles, Mindful Mugman and Courageous Cuphead, to hear their thoughts on the matter:

Mugman: “Well, I don’t think the Devil is comin’ back. Not after Cups and I made a fool outta him, but I can see why everyone’s so worried. The casino closing all quick-like and people spotting imps runnin’ about is sure strange. But my Elder Kettle says the Devil’s prideful. I don’t think he would be hiding out while everyone’s makin’ fun of him.”

Cuphead: “The Devil? Comin’ back? Hah! Not in a million years. That big ol’ crybaby won’t ever show his sorry face in Inkwell ever again, or anywhere else anywhere near here! Everyone knows how Mugsy and I beat him good, so who’s gonna respect him now? No one wants to sell their soul to a washed up rug who got beat by a couple of kids, that’s for sure.

And if he did try somethin’ stupid, he’s gonna have to go through me and my brother first! So don’t even be worried about it, the Inkwell Isles ain’t gonna be bothered by him and his goons ever again.”

So there you have it, folks! The Cup Brothers, protectors of the Inkwell Isles, are sure that the Devil won’t return. And if he does, he’ll get a walloping of a lifetime!

---

The very temperature of the room seemed to rise as the Devil read the article with sparks flying from his mangy fur. With a swift slash of a yellowed claw, the newspaper was torn cleanly in half and thrown aside into a rapidly growing pile of other ripped apart newspapers. Letting out a half-hearted chuckle, the Devil snapped his fingers and the entire pile of newspapers was set alight.

This was ridiculous. How could such inconsequential, menial mortals dare to mock him? He could eviscerate them with a simple wave of his hand if he so desired. He could-

As the Devil shifted, he knocked over a small vial. One of the many scattered across his desk. The demon’s heart skipped a beat, catching the vial just before it hit the floor. With a gentleness thoroughly unnatural for the Devil, he gingerly laid the vial back on his desk.

This would be his masterpiece. There had never been a more perfectly exacted revenge in all his millennia. If one potion caused his defeat, another would ensure his return.

The Devil was no fool- he knew exactly how those sniveling children had beaten him. It was just his luck that their guardian, that damned Elder Kettle, had somehow gotten ahold of a Calix potion from that bygone era.

Damn him! That old man would pay dearly for his mistake before the end.

And it wasn’t just him. Those brothers had gotten help from her. The Legendary Chalice. She’d helped them, trained them in the Calix’s ancient techniques, and hidden away like a coward as she watched her little puppets do the dirty work. The very thought of Chalice sent a shower of fiery sparks flying off The Devil’s black fur. Her insolence defied even death.

But not for long.

The Devil’s gaze returned to the vial, full of bubbling red liquid. And then there was its complement, another vial which glowed with a light blue liquid.

“Patience,” he muttered to himself as he lit a cigar.

Glancing up, his eyes fell on a chalkboard covered with formulas. He was so close to success. Just a few more tests and it would be perfect. After all these years, he had finally cracked the code of their ancient formulas, and his revenge would be exacted. Not just against those boys, but against his greatest adversary: The Calix Animi.

-

END OF DRAFT

-

So there you have it! My first actual writing in about 6 months! Feel free to leave your thoughts and opinions in the replies!

Thank you for reading!!!

[trick-r-treat421]

Chapter 4

Riley’s POV:

Over the last few days Noah and I had texted a little more, coming up with a game plan for our date. The closer it got the more butterflies I felt in my stomach. The day had come, and I’d barely been able to eat, I was so nervous.

It has been a long time since I’d let myself date, I’d pushed everyone away after what happened with Tate. I figured it was better to be alone, if you don’t let anyone in you can’t get attached therefore no one can hurt you. However, it does get incredibly lonely when your only companion can’t talk back.

That companion wasn’t very helpful when it came to picking out what to wear either. I’d already gotten a shower and put on a black bralette and matching thong. That’s as far as I had gotten though. I swear it felt like I’ve been standing in this same spot staring at my closet for the good part of an hour at this point, my hair still wrapped up in a towel on top of my head, lost in my anxiety filled thoughts.

Hades had long ago given up on me and lay across the rug, head on his paws, staring up at me with his big golden puppy dog eyes. Looking at the clock I had just over an hour before we were set to meet at the ice cream parlor he’d chosen, and it sent me into a frenzy.

With no rhyme or reason, I started gathering random items of clothing and spreading them out on the bed trying to find something to wear. Occasionally I’d hold something up and look over to Hades who would either huff or tilt his head to one side. He was obviously over my bullshit, but I loved him for always staying close.

Eventually I landed on fishnets under a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, a black cropped top, and an oversized black and white flannel shirt hanging loosely overtop. I didn’t want it to look like I was trying too hard you know. I made my way to the bathroom where I pulled my hair up into little space buns, leaving a strand framing both sides of my face, then worked on a simple smokey eyed look and a nude lip. I’ll admit I was a little rusty when it came to doing my makeup, but it came together pretty nicely, and I even walked out of the bathroom with a small smile on my face.

Lastly, I put on my jewelry, a few rings on each hand and a choker, and pulled on a pair of black lace up boots. You know the type with a little platform heel to give me those few inches I apparently needed. Giving myself a good once over in front of my floor length mirror, I decided it was the best I was going to be able to do. “How do I look?” I ask spinning around, striking a pose with one leg kicked out to the side, awaiting Hades’ judgement.

He immediately sat up and gave me a loud bark before sticking his tongue out. It was all the approval I needed. I crouched down ruffling the thick fur around his neck and giving him a quick kiss on his nose, silently thanking him for always being my support system.

I quickly let him out to do his business, checked his food and water bowls, and headed towards the door telling him I’d be back later to share all about my evening. With a deep breath I grabbed my mini backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and stepped out into the late afternoon/early evening sun. I quickly locked the door behind me and set off in the direction of Tony’s Ice Cream.

Noah’s POV:

Riley and I had agreed to meet up at 6:15pm for ice cream. It was now a few minutes past. I was starting to get antsy as I sat on a bench outside the shop waiting. I hadn’t been on a date in a while and apparently, I wasn’t above the first date nerves. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had some hook-ups over the last year, but no one had really caught my eye or stuck out for more than one night of fun. At least not until I met Riley, the girl had some kind of vice grip on my mind.

Pulling my hands from the pockets of the leather jacket I wore over my hoodie I pull my phone from my jeans. Fidgeting with it for a moment I decide to shoot her a text asking if we’re still on, my knee bouncing uncontrollably. I’m about halfway through typing out the text when I catch someone stop in my peripheral.

“You look like you’re about to bolt.”

Looking up I see she’s standing a yard or so away with her fingers looped through the straps of her mini backpack, a nervous smile gracing her full lips.

My eyes roam from her boots up to her face, stopping momentarily on the skin not covered by the crop top. I’m caught off guard with how different she looks today, her hair done up in cute little buns instead of a messy ponytail. Her makeup was done, and her eyes sparkled in the evening sun. I didn’t know how it was possible, but she looked even more beautiful than either time before.

“Woah… you look amazing!” I say standing and pocketing my phone immediately, a goofy smile spreading across my face.

“Thanks, you don’t look to bad yourself.” She says shifting on her feet as a slight blush spread across her cheeks and her gaze lowers to the ground.

I fight the urge to reach out and lift her chin to bring those brilliant eyes back to mine. Instead, I motion towards the doors before asking “Shall we?”

Nodding, she steps up as I pull the door open allowing her to walk in before following. We take a few minutes to scope out the different flavors before ordering. She opts for two scoops of coffee chocolate chunk in a waffle cone while I get a double scoop of vanilla in a waffle cone, adding chopped peanuts, caramel sauce, and cherries on top.

Once we reach the register, she goes to pull out her wallet. I stop her saying it’s my treat. Of course, she tries to argue but I insist and after bickering a moment she finally gives in. With a triumphant smile I pay, thank the server, and we head back outside, holding the door for the both of us again.

Once the door closes behind me, I bump her shoulder just as she takes the first lick of her ice cream. “You know I’ve heard rumor Tony, the owner, has ties to the mafia.”

“Should I be worried you took me here for a first date?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Smirking down at her I shake my head, “No, they have the best ice cream around. Just don’t ask to see their freezer and you’ll be alright.” I pause for effect before teasing her, “I’ve heard the pumpkin spice fall flavor is amazing. I for sure thought you would go for it.”

“How dare you assume I’d be a basic bitch!” she exclaims rolling her eyes and feigning hurt. “You on the other hand…” she says eyeing my vanilla before looking back to me with pursed lips.

Laughing, I hold up my free hand in surrender as I bring the cone up enjoying my simplistic choice. “Hey, you can’t compete with a good vanilla. Though I’m not sure I’ve ever tried coffee flavored ice cream.”

She shrugs, “You did invite me for coffee or ice cream. Why can’t I have both?” She takes another lick as we begin walking down the sidewalk with no destination in mind.  “At least you didn’t get mint chocolate chip! That toothpaste tasting abomination...” She adds wrinkling her nose.

 “That was my second choice.” 

“You would!” She shakes her head in disbelief as a smile spreads across her face showcasing her perfect teeth as she bumps my side, unable to reach my shoulder.

After another few leisurely steps, I pick one of the cherries up by the stem, leaning my head back, placing it between my teeth and sucking in into my mouth before discarding the stem into the closest trashcan. Riley’s eyes following the cherry every step of the way.

“If you’re wondering, yes I can.” I say eyeing her as I chew the cherry.

“You can what?” She asks confused.

“Tie a knot with the cherry stem.” I state, smirking at her before taking another lick of ice cream.

“Oh… your tongue game is the last thing on my mind!” She retorts as her eyes return to the sidewalk, the reddening of her cheeks betraying her. “I just wanted a cherry.”

My smirk only grows as I watch the effect I’m having on her. Silently I pick another from my cone and place it on top of hers, earning a smile.

“Thank you. I almost got some but didn’t think they’d mix well with my choice of ice cream.” She says shyly before using her tongue to maneuver the cherry into her mouth, a small moan of enjoyment escaping as she savors it. Now it’s my turn to look away. Touché Riley, touché.

Eventually we end up at a playground a few blocks down the street. It was now abandoned as the sun sets; families all having returned home for dinner and to escape the autumn chill setting in. Finishing the last of our cones and discarding the napkins in the trash, I follow her as she makes her way to the swing set.

She sets her backpack on the ground before plopping down and grabbing hold of the chains. I post up beside her and we lazily swing with our feet still planted on the ground, talking, getting to know each other, and just overall enjoying the others’ company.

We talk about what we do and where we work. She works in a customer service call center but apparently hates it. I tell her I’m a mechanic and my friends and I own our own garage, Like a Muffler.

It takes a more somber turn when she asks if I’m originally from here. I’m not. I explain that I’d lost both my parents young, lived with my grandparents for a while, then bounced around from friends house to friends house, really anywhere I was provided a couch to crash on. I turned to music as an escape and eventually found my friend group. We formed a band and had some mild success in our hometown but moved here for better opportunities. Unfortunately, we never took off like we’d hoped and turned to our secondary dream of owning our own garage and getting to work on a variety of cars. Thats exactly what I have done for the last few years.

I asked the same question of her. She gives a sad smile and returns my honesty with her own. When she was 15 her parents were killed by a drunk driver. All she had left was her 19-year-old brother, Tate, who she was very close with. He dropped out of college and returned home to help take care of her. He got a full-time job and took night classes at the local community college to finish his degree. She worked after school to help, and they scraped by. Right after she graduated high school, he got a job offer here he couldn’t refuse so they moved leaving behind everything and everyone she’d ever known. She ended up taking some classes at a local community college and had a part-time job she really enjoyed. They were finally doing well and enjoying life again, but it came to a halt when she was 20. Tate was killed in a robbery gone wrong after leaving a bar where he’d met up with some coworker for drinks. The cops showed up to inform her the next morning. The only thing that kept her going was Hades. Tate had given her the puppy as a Christmas present shortly before his passing. She’d talked about wanting a dog for years and that was his final gift to her. After he died, she struggled, dropping out of her courses, and found a full-time job to make it by. Now here she was, just her and Hades.

She grew quiet as I glanced over to see a single tear rolling down her cheek as she gazed up at the stars. She looked angelic under the glow emanating from the distant streetlamps and I wanted more than anything to wipe that tear away. Instead, I reached over taking her hand in mine and we swayed back and forth in a comfortable silence.

She eventually pulls her hand away as a cold chill swept over her. Wrapping the flannel shirt tightly around her small frame she hugged herself for warmth. Without thought I stand, shrugging out of my leather jacket before offering my hand to her.

“Thank you, Noah, but I’m good.” She says looking from my offered hand to the jacket.

Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Riley, if you don’t quit being so hardheaded and take the damn jacket! I know you’re cold and I’ll be fine with just my hoodie.”

She glares at me for a moment before placing her tiny hand in mine and allowing me to pull her into a standing position and turning. I slide the heavy leather up her arms and over her shoulders before she turns back with a small thankful smile.

“See, fits like a glove.” I chuckle seeing how the jacket swallows her, her hands not even peeking through the cuffs.

A giggle sounds as she holds her arms out, looking down at herself, and doing a spin before she returns to the swing, grabbing the chains and swaying back and forth.

Going behind, I slowly begin to push her, her head falling back as she goes higher and higher, her eyes closing and smile spreading across her face. Her innocence and enjoyment in that moment dispersing any of the heaviness left over from the previous conversation.

We spent a little while longer talking about a little of this and that before we agree it’s getting late, and we should probably head back towards the ice cream shop. The conversation never dying out as we return the way we came.

Upon making it back to the empty parking lot I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket as we stand in front of my mustang.

“Is this beauty yours!?” She asks, her eyes roving over my pride and joy, hand extending like she wants to touch it.

Laughing, I nod. “Yep, I restored it myself.”  Glancing around I notice her SUV is no where in sight. “Uh Ry… where’s your vehicle?” I ask, a crease forming on my forehead.

Picking up on my worry another giggle sounds. “I don’t live that far away so I decided to walk.”

I relax immediately but look at my watch. There’s no way I’m letting her walk home alone after dark. “Can I give you a ride home?”

“What’s wrong, you don’t think I can make it home on my own?” she teases quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh, I have no doubt you would, with that all that sass you keep caged in that small frame of yours. However, I was raised to always make sure a lady arrives home safely.” I shrug.

“How do I know you aren’t really a serial killer and going to kidnap me? You did invite me to a mafia ran ice cream shop after all.” She quips, sticking her tongue out at me.

“Damn, you caught me! Fortunately for you, I left my murder van back home and there’s no way I’m risking any damage or getting blood in this.” I slap my hand on the roof of my car.

She dramatically thinks it over, bringing her fingers to her chin. “Well, if you insist… but don’t get any ideas. The only ride I want tonight is in your mustang, not on you.” She eyes me crossing her arms over her chest, but she can’t keep it together and the edges of her lips curve up into a smile.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Scouts honor… or something like that.” I promise, chuckling as I cross my fingers over my chest before holding them up in the air.

Finding my response satisfactory she nods, so I proceed around to the passenger side unlocking and opening the door for her. Closing it gently behind her, I slide into the driver’s seat turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life and I release the e-brake, moving from neutral to first gear as she gives me her address and we pull out of the lot.

It doesn’t take long until we’re pulling into her drive. She goes to open her door and I tut, stopping her. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I rush out and around opening the door like the gentleman I am and extend my hand to help her out as she grabs her backpack from the floorboard.

We come to a stop at the path leading to her front door as she turns to me. “Thanks for the ride. And tonight, it was fun.” She says looking up with those eyes, those beautiful icy blue eyes.

 “I enjoyed it too.” I reply, unable to look away.

We stand there awkwardly for a moment before I pull her into a goodbye hug. Although things went well, I get the feeling a kiss isn’t in the cards tonight and I don’t want to ruin my chance with her.

“So much for keeping your hands to yourself.” She calls me out followed by one of her adorable giggles.

“What can I say, you have such a huggable personality. I couldn’t resist.” I say releasing her and taking a step back. “Goodnight, Ry.”

“Goodnight, Noah.”

With that she walks away. I lean against my car, my legs crossed in front of me, watching to make sure she gets in safely. She looks back one final time as the key slides in the lock. I pull a hand from my hoodie pocket and give her a salute as she waves with a smile before slipping inside, still wearing my leather jacket.

I hadn’t forgotten but it seems she had. That just gives me an excuse to see her again, right? I climb back into my mustang, revving the engine before pulling out, cranking the radio, and heading home all the while that goofy smile plastered on my face.

Riley’s POV:

I close and lock the door behind me, setting my backpack on the table and sliding down the door to the floor as Hades comes to greet me.

“Hades!” I greet hugging him. “I had such a good time.”

He licks my nose and nudges me as if telling me to continue.

“We went to the park after getting ice cream.” His ears perked up at the word park and I smile. “We talked for hours, getting to know each other. There were never even any weird uncomfortable moments either.”

I hear Noah’s engine rev and the sound of his car growing distant.

“He was such a gentleman too. Well, most of the time.” I laugh leaning my head back against the door. I really needed this. I couldn’t stop smiling and I can’t remember the last time I’d felt so content.

Hades takes that as his opportunity to sniff me, I look down at him questioningly. That’s when I see him sniffing the black leather. I gasp, having completely forgotten Noah had let me wear his jacket! I must admit it did keep me warm though. Sighing, I pull it tighter around me before bringing my knees to my chest and resting my head on my crossed arms. My nose filled with the scent of leather and him.

This one was a bit longer. Lots more playful/flirty bantering. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it. 🖤

Tag List:

@lma1986, @badomensls, @dominuslunae

Want to be added? Let me know.

[itsnotunfinisheditsmystyle]

Hmm how about 16 or 31 for darkolai? whichever vibes better for u

So I picked 16, aka Brand new neighbours AU, and for some reason it became, well, whatever this is. Pyotr dies in it, huzzah.

"There are worse places to be sent to rot," Zoya commented as she ran a critical finger over a shelf to evaluate the dust. Barely a speck.

No doubt a team had been sent beforehand to clean up the place where their beloved inspector would be put away like a too fragile doll in a special box.

Even Nikolai's ten million watts smile did not quite hide how bitter the decision made him. Truly, if it was up to him he'd find a way to turn the situation to his advantage instead of running away. He had been so close, almost felt like he was grazing Morozova's back with his fingertips, just about to pull him in and force him to reveal his face.

The chief said his father's murder must have been because of that. A warning.

Nikolai called bullshit. First, killing him would have been a much more definitive warning. Second, Morozova had shown he was way too well informed to truly believe killing Pyotr Lantsov would do much to his disowned and repudiated second not-really-son. Third, he probably had a lot of other reasons to go after him, given his usual patterns.

Not that Nikolai could prove any of that because he had never been able to rip the truth of his father's illicit activities out from under the heavy rug of corruption. He had no doubt been caught up by one or the other of his side businesses, tried to bite more than he could chew, and a bigger fish of the underworld had gone after him.

No, of course not, it had to do with Nikolai and his job and his relentless pursuit of crime rings' heads, and it meant shoving him in a cosy drawer in a remote little village for his own safety.

"Cheer up, Nikolai. David won't remove your access to the files so you can still be nosy and overworked here. And I'm sure you can find some distractions. The sea is right there… Nice, mh, hikes? Perhaps cute neighbours?"

"Cute elderly neighbours, more like,"

He missed the bustling city already. Where there was always something to do.

Nikolai had never been the kind to seek peace and quiet.

**********************

Two months in and he had given in. Nikolai had planted hydrangeas on each side of his door and was tending to them. Gardening had proven surprisingly good at calming his racing mind. Perhaps he ought to get some chicken as well. Of course half of his brain was still constantly filled with cases and leads and evidence but that couldn't be helped. His team was running in tapioca without him, and they weren't getting any closer to Morozova. Still the man shrouded in shadows, no face, no real name, nothing but the neverending list of crimes he had committed.

The sound of a car driving in gravel interrupted his thoughts and he raised his eyebrows at the unexpected sight of a sleek black car, too silent to be running on gas, pulling up in the driveway of the house next to his.

Oh. He had seen that SOLD sign go up.

He watched with curiosity as his new neighbour got out, a man around his age in a suit that looked thoroughly out of place in the pastoral landscape. His hair was just as dark, tidily combed back with some strands framing his lean face, and when their eyes met he was mesmerised by how pale they were.

“Hi!” he waved in an attempt at looking friendly and less impressed than he was.

Perhaps impressed wasn’t the right word as he gave the stranger another once over.

A smile answered his, and the black-clad man waved back.

“Hello, Nikolai Lantsov,” his voice was smooth and cool as water over rocks, matching perfectly the chilling guess. Nikolai immediately tensed, and the man’s smile only widened. Then he tapped the letter box he was standing right next to. Nikolai’s letterbox. With his stupid name on it. He relaxed with a sigh, mentally kicking himself.

Maybe he was strung up. 

Maybe the good looking man shouldn’t act so creepily.

“Should I wait until you put up your own letterbox to know your name?”

“Perhaps, who doesn’t like a good mystery?” 

Nikolai sure enjoyed a good mystery, and he grinned at the stranger.

“You look like an Adrik,”

“Two good letters, Nikolai,”

The stranger moved to his front door, unlocking it and peering inside before turning his attention back to Nikolai, tilting his head slightly.

“Try again tomorrow,”

******************

“Of course not, I haven’t touched the Morozova files, as per orders, chief,” Nikolai chirped, cellphone squeezed behind his shoulder and his ear as he thumbed through his team’s latest findings on Morozova. “I got plenty to keep me busy here. I’ve been working on the cases you send me, gardening… I have a new neighbour, even,” Old bank records of a card that might have belonged to Morozova, although it was under an entirely different name of course. Groceries, gas fuel, mostly terribly boring expenses as he went through the rows with his finger. A recurring donation. Generous, too. Sankt Grigori Foster Home? Nikolai scribbled the name on a post-it, absentmindedly listening to his superior officer. “Yeah, I’m actually going there tonight, we are having some drinks. He’s nice,” More than nice, Aleksander —his name was Aleksander Kirigan, as Nikolai found out by snooping in the local newspapers for the notaries— and him had definitely crossed the line of cordial neighbours straight into flirting territory. “Haha, yeah, you could say it takes my mind off things. Anyway, I’m going to leave you to your work and go back to mine, bye,”

He’d look up that foster home later. 

Maybe the move did help a little with his obsession for this case. Although it was mostly because he was now obsessing on someone else. Well, his friends would say it was an improvement, as the subject of his obsession was not a criminal for once, and the end goal wasn’t putting him behind bars. 

Evenings with Aleksander were usually spent having a nice dinner together, that Nikolai cooked more often than not. Then they’d have some wine and play cards or chess while chatting, plenty of good excuses to brush hands and smile conspiratorially at each other. 

Nikolai always liked a chase. 

“Cheat,” he called out.

Aleksander all but batted his eyelashes at him from above his cards. Then wordlessly flipped up the card he had just played, revealing a three of Spades as announced.

“Saints,” Nikolai nearly threw his own cards. “How are you so good at this game?”

“You’re not bad yourself,” In fact, they were both down to a few cards.

“Played it a lot back in the academy,” he begrudgingly picked the card he had wrongly called out.

“Cops learning how to play card games that are all about cheating and lying,” Aleksander hummed in amusement.

“Talk for yourself, you’re beating me so far. Four of Hearts,”

“I grew up around a lot of other kids. Cheating and lying is how we’d play any game. Five of Diamonds,”

Aleksander rarely spoke of his childhood or family, and frankly Nikolai didn’t either so he never pressed him on the matter, but he still leaned in interest.

“Have I ever asked you if you have any siblings?”

“I do, a half-sister. But this was a foster home. It was very lively,” he said fondly before gesturing at him to play.

A smile tugged at Nikolai’s lips, picturing the dignified man he knew as a cheating little brat surrounded by other kids. In spite of him clearly showing a preference for staying inside and tending to his business (literal business, from what he knew of his job in finances), he was skilled with others, getting all their elderly neighbours wrapped around his finger in no time.

“Six of Hearts,”

“Cheat,”

“Damn it!”

Aleksander grinned, Nikolai’s stomach swooped, and he found he didn’t care much about losing when the other man reached for his card to flip it over and reveal that he indeed lied about what it was.

“I hope you are better at lying when undercover,” he purred.

“I haven’t done undercover in a long while,” he sighed wistfully. He did miss the excitement of it all. “Also my targets are usually a lot less distracting,”

Aleksander tossed down his last card.

“Seven of Spade,”

“No way your last card is magically a seven now. Cheat,”

“I think I’d be good at undercover. I don’t mind… Distracting targets,” The long up-and-down look he gave Nikolai was nothing subtle, and the target in question felt himself flush like a hormonal teenager.

“I believe you on that, ô Lord of lying and cheating. Show your card, don’t delay,”

“So eager to lose, Nikolai?”

Nikolai placed his hand above the card in challenge, staring Aleksander down before flipping it over.

Seven of Spade.

Aleksander chuckled and condescendingly patted his cheek as his expression fell.

“Lying, cheating, and counting cards, Nikolai,”

[thephantomcasebook]

Weird Ask Time!

Situation: older!Alicent is replaced with Young!Alicent from 1x05 and comes through a time portal to 2x01 Green Family.

Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron are confronted with their teenage mother and are stuck with her forever.

How do they react?

Bonus: Who is the fucked up one that wakes up one morning spooning a naked Alicent after making love to her.

I'm not saying it has to happen ... but fucking Aegon II Targaryen is in the mix. And my manz jerked off in front of his mom before so ...

Don't be a pussy!

Answer the ask!

I can't believe I just got asked this absolutely vile and detestable ...

wait!

...

I just got it ...

Okay ...

(For Reference)

Aegon:

He is absolutely, 100% protective, like 1000% worshipful - make Criston look like agnostic - devoted to the protection and happiness of young!Alicent.

Listen, that isn't just a younger version of his mother, that was baby/little Aegon's friend, his playmate, and the only person he truly loved and who loved him. The very sight of that young girl, so beautiful and innocent, would melt Aegon. He'd be absolutely ashamed of what he was, and has done in the past, and wouldn't want her to see him the way he is now. When no one is around, he takes off his crown and lays his head on her lap, and apologizes if it makes her uncomfortable ... but he needs it, needs her hand through his hair, he needs the memory of what it was like when they had no one but each other.

When Rhaenya takes King's Landing, Aegon is not leaving her behind. He is dying with Sunfyre, going out in a blaze of glory, to protect his beloved children and his sainted and pure mamma.

Helaena:

Helaena would be quiet, but subtly curious, looking up from her needle work to sneak glances at her young mamma. She would still pull away from her touch, but feel bad about it when she sees her fallen expression. Then, later, young!Alicent would find little gifts on her bed or on her vanity from Helaena as forms of apology. She'd definitely linger at doorways or in the distance, staring - maybe even longing - and when Alicent shields her eyes from the sun and looks out to see her, Helaena nervously paces away in social anxiety. With a suggestion from Daeron, Young!Alicent would start researching bugs so she can talk to Helaena and Helaena would walk by and recommend better books on the subject. And when Alicent suggest that maybe Helaena write a book for her, she looks away shyly but is grinning ear to ear as she stalks away ...

and later Alicent finds a flower crown on her bed made from the roses in Helaena's personal garden.

Aemond:

He's her big brother, he's her priest, he's her protector - through and through. She is his prize, his jewel, his most coveted and personal joy and torment. He loves her so completely, but like Aegon, he doesn't want her to see him like he is now - maimed and dark. He is convinced that she wouldn't, couldn't love him, not as he is. So he tries to avoid her. But when he's brooding alone in the dark by the fire, she comes in and stands by him. She puts her hand on his shoulder and tells him that he doesn't have to hide from her, she's not afraid of him.

In sudden anger and despair, Aemond shoots from his chair and rips off his eye patch to reveal the sapphire in his eye that sparkles in the fire light. He challenges her to see him, see what he is, and shudder at "The One-Eye" monster of the House of the Dragon. But even though Alicent is caught off guard by the aggressive action, she steels herself and strides right into his personal space. They glare at one another. But then Alicent touches his cheek. A single tear falls from one of her eyes in a deep empathy for a son she's never met. Then she leans his head down and gives a deep and meaningful kiss to his sapphire eyes. He gives her a 'mhmm' but he his jaw set hard when she leaves with a swirl of skirts. But when she looks back he sits once more and stares at the fire.

But instead of leaving, Alicent sits on the rug and lays her head and an arm on his knee as they both watch the fire in the dark.

Daeron:

Complete and total best friends forever. He is a better and more devoted replacement for Rhaenyra. She immediately gravitates toward Daeron, because, he's the closest to her age, and the most like her in look, mood, and personality. Everyone is freaked out or has a lot of baggage when she first arrives, so she is immediately and constantly dumped on Daeron, because Young!Alicent is not someone that Daeron knew or grew up with so he's not as weird or freaked out by her - she is completely different than the mommy who raised him with Ser Criston.

Their coming is always heralded by laughter and giggling, they're rarely seen apart, and she likes to hold his hand when they're walking together. He gives her rides on his back when goofing around the Red Keep and she goes out on patrol with him on Tessarion - which angers Aegon and Aemond a lot. They get so close that they can finish one another's sentences and she starts showing up at night to share a bed. When Aemond sends Daeron to take command in the South and rescue the Hightower army trapped in the Dornish Lowlands, Alicent is devastated and is greatly depressed when he says goodbye, gifting him brand new armor that she had specifically forged for him. She loves his dashing smile and witty farewell as their kiss is broken by him flying off with a joke.

After King's Landing falls to Rhaenyra, Alicent takes charge of Maelor and escapes to Bitter Bridge where she is not known nor blinked at - thinking her a young war refugee with a babe. And she makes it to Daeron's camp where she falls into his arms and they're reunited with overpowering emotions. Afterward, like it was in King's Landing, they're rarely seen apart. And Alicent becomes a valued voice in war councils while at Daeron's side, and some even say that Campaign and war seems to suit the young beauty.

Thus, history changes, cause, unlike before, Alicent is not captured in King's Landing and so Criston has no incentive to charge out in a suicided rush at King's Landing's defenses to rescue her. Thus the Butcher's Ball never happens and Criston and what is left of the Green's Main Army links up with Daeron's force. And Alicent rushes to and embraces Ser Criston who is overwhelmed with relief when he sees that she is safe and made it to Daeron and his men. Meanwhile, hearing of Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Otto's deaths, she sees Criston's return as a gift from the gods to have just a shred of mercy that she hadn't lost everything and everyone she loved.

With a powerful and seasoned army commanded by Criston Cole and Daeron the Daring, they crush the Blacks at Tumblestone and with Criston's steadfast leadership and Alicent and Daeron's fire for revenge there is no delay on the marching on King's Landing.

After Rhaeynra is driven from King's Landing back to Dragonstone, Daeron is named regent and he names Alicent Hand of the King, while Criston is giving full command of the Green forces to put an end to the Blacks rebellion. Meanwhile, Criston and Alicent raise both Maelor and Jaehaera - Alicent never marries, but there are rumors of her relationship with the Lord Commander ... nothing is proven, just blasphemous talk from embittered Northman and Riverlords who lost the glorious cause of their Black Queen to a couple of Teenagers and "The Kingmaker".

[scaryscarecrows]

My Feet Have Led Me Straight Into My Grave

AN: ‘Roots and Leaves’. Title from Paper Route’s ‘Glass Heart Hymn’.

* * *

Gotham being Gotham, it takes a lot to stick out. You have to work at it.  So Dove, in the middle of a conversation with what she privately suspects is the Missing Link, good God, engage your brain, sir, doesn't clock the weirdo on Sunshine. Not until he very nearly runs into her and she has to hop aside.

Instinct says to cuss him out. Instinct gets slapped down when she sees who it is.

The brand is hard to miss and impossible to mistake. Once she sees that, she sees the rest of him; mud, plant bits, bugs, a blank expression that says he's running on autopilot. Fear toxin? Concussion?

“I'll call you back,” she says, hangs up before the Link can argue. “Kiddo. Kid, what the hell?”

He doesn't seem to register her until she gets a good grip on his arm, and then he flinches and shudders back to reality, eyes wide and spooked.

“No–”

She yanks her hand back before he can panic further. He doesn't bolt, but he looks about to.

“Hey, hon, what's goin' on?” Something, clearly, and fuck, if they've got a new crazy running around...the Gravedigger or something stupid... “You okay?”

Stupid question. He doesn't answer it, either, and right about now Dove remembers that Crane is out of Arkham. Last she heard, he’d holed up in the Narrows, which is across town, but…

“You didn't run into Scarecrow, did you?”

Silence, but he shakes his head, slow and unsure. They'll table that for now.

“C'mon, you're gonna get hit by a bus.” He doesn't move and she nervously gives his sleeve a quick, firm tug. “Hood.”

He follows her, shuffly and slow, but sticking close enough for her to make sure she doesn't lose him in the crowds. Christ...what's going on around here? He's not--he's unarmed, helmet nowhere in sight. He honestly just looks like a normal person that got caught in the crossfire; jeans, jacket, t-shirt.

Fucking Batman...fucking bullshit…

Hood's dead silent for the walk, save for his gasping breaths. Something bad happened, it must have, this isn't like him. And what's with all the yard shit? It's almost like he fell down a hill, but…

“Okay,” she tells him, once they're in her apartment with the door locked, “stay here. Just a second, okay?”

He doesn't answer, but he doesn't run, and she figures he'll be fine while she drops her purse and gets the lights on and all that.

Okay...she'll try her best to get him cleaned up, but not with her good white towels, with the dark blue ones that hide stains. Get the bathroom rug outta the way...glass of water, just in case...there. All set.

He's hasn't budged since she left him, but a little nudge has him moving again, arms held close to his sides and shoulders hunched like he's trying to shrink. That ship, Dove thinks wryly, has sailed.

It had been, really, a relief, to find that out. Robin had been small, small, small. Joker was a tall man, deceptively strong, and he would have been able to pick the kid up. Hood's nearly unrecognizable now, but the one of the first things Dove had thought, in a fit of shock and I thought you were dead, had been, let's see you fuckers hurt him now.

“Here we go, just siddown and we'll--Jesus Christ.”

Now, in stark lighting, the mud and bugs and leaves make sense. Hood's hands are filled with splinters, cheap wooden shards that jut out in all directions. Several nails have been ripped off and his clothes are dirty and torn.

Someone tried to bury him.

Dear God.

“Okay, hon, just... just don't move and we'll get these out, okay? Just stay still.”

He doesn't so much as wince when she starts removing the splinters, even though several of them go deep between his knuckles and Dove is well aware of how painful missing fingernails are.

She's maybe halfway done with his right hand when he pulls away, tumbles off the toilet to his knees and shoves the lid up. Before she can do anything, he's retching, body heaving as he spits up...grime. Gritty brown bile with bits in it.

Comfort him? Don't touch him?

Water. She brought that water glass in, now's the time for that.

He finally stills and silences, slumped over the bowl and gasping for air. His hands are bleeding where they're gripping the sides, red trickles drying against the porcelain, and she hesitantly reaches over him to hit the flusher.

“Rinse your mouth out,” she says, moving the glass towards his lips. “C'mon, that shit can't stay there.”

That takes three or four rounds and a refill at the bathroom sink, but finally he collapses against the bathroom wall, eyes half-shut. When he stays there, Dove runs a corner of a towel under the water and scrubs it carefully across his face before rubbing it over his hair, dislodging more dirt and plants and a couple of bug parts.

Jesus. Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on?

“Be still for me," she says. "Okay...let's just…”

There's a lot of splinters. Every time she thinks she's got them all, another one is there. But finally she's got one hand done and Hood's breathing is a little less frantic.

“What the hell happened?” she asks him, because if someone's going to come looking, she'd like to grab her gun. If he doesn't answer, she'll just go get it–

“Harley,” he breathes. “Harley Quinn, she--I--I didn't know she was there, I didn't, Sheila said it was safe an' I--I swear I didn't know–”

Dove does not know a Sheila, but Hood’s starting to get worked up and it’s for the best to head that off.

“Okay, okay,” she soothes. “Okay. Is Harley going to be looking for you?”

“I don't–” He swallows. “I don't think so.”

She hates to ask, but she has to.

“Is Sheila?”

He shudders and curls in on himself.

“No,” he whispers. “No, no, no, she's dead, I didn't--I didn't know, I didn't mean–”

Who was she? Sounds to Dove like she might have, frankly, fucked around and found out, but Hood’s upset, head tucked against his knees to try to muffle his sobs, and maybe it’s best to just let that go for now.

“Okay, honey. Okay.”

She's partway through his right hand when he sniffles and rasps, voice thick, “I tried to save her. Honest, I did.”

Dove has no idea what's gone on, or who Sheila is, but she knows Robin. Knows he's telling the truth.

“It's not your fault, sweetheart,” she says. “Now be still, we're almost done here.”

THE END

[namesarehard123]

Coin

(7/29/21)

Today was the day!

Grabbing an an all-purpose comb, I pushed it through my thick hair before gelling it down. After I ensured it wasn’t too much, I picked a black T-shirt that nearly blended in with my black jeans. 

I looked in the mirror one last time.

I needed to look good.

After all, today was the day!

After praying for it to go well, I rushed out of the house like a fire was chasing me. 

By the time I reached her house, I was sweating enough to fill an entire pool. It’s a good thing I chose to wear black. nobody would ever be able to see the stains, especially (I pray) not her. I took a deep breath to calm down my racing heartbeat before I knocked on the door.

Not even a moment after I knocked, it swung open; blond hair peeking out. She wore a rainbow crop top decorated with thin white straps, ripped blue jeans, and red converses that popped. 

“Hey,”

“Hi,” I replied.

Well, this isn’t awkward at all.

She stepped out of the townhouse and onto the doorstep before smiling her million dollar smile. 

“Let’s go!” she exclaimed, already taking my hand.

I nod and start walking

She’s holding my hand! 

We reached the arcade quickly. With my dad’s arcade card in hand (I did all my chores without complaining for ten weeks for this), I confidently strolled in. 

She dragged me to one game that caught her eye, and I gave her the card. Then I showed her one that I liked, and she watched me fail at it. Because of her skill, we gained enough tickets to trade in for a prize. 

As I handed the (fake) golden coin to her, she smiled so hard that I wanted to ask if I could refill the arcade card with my nonexistent money. The day continued until we had to go. Somewhere along the line, we got ice cream. 

We went home like that, laughter filling the air with sticky ice cream dripping between our fingers.

I dropped her home, a skip in my step. As I put my hand into my pocket, I felt the coin.

She had given it to me.

My hand kept rubbing over it, feeling its rough edges. (It would probably become a smooth surface by the end of the day due to me rubbing it too much, but nobody cares.)

I slipped the coin in an empty fake velvet case that was once used to house a plastic ring for my sister. I patted the cover of the case before slipping it into the drawer of my dresser.

Tonight was the best night ever!

🎕⋙🎕

(7/29/51)

A girl sighed as she looked around the house. Her parents were looking for a new place to settle and dragged her along despite her frequent protests.

Whoopee. Woo-hoo. 

All the furniture and the decorations that once made the house look homey were still there. 

However, one room was completely bare of any furniture. It housed a white twin sized bed cozied into the hole the bed frame made for it, a  chair with a small cushion, and a dresser with a mirror.

(It was at that moment she realized her outfit made no sense.)

The girl’s sock-covered feet grazed the rug floor as she walked over to the drawer.

The open house was so boring. Why not spice it up a little bit by being nosy?

Her hand grabbed one of the handles and tugged. To her dismay, there was nothing but a small velvet case. The drawer looked largely untouched, cobwebs being its only other decoration. The velvet case, however, was in perfect condition (if we’re not counting the layer of dust coating all sides of it). 

The dust was brushed off and the case was opened, revealing a small golden coin. The once rugged edges were now smooth, as if someone rubbed over it with their thumb a bit too much.

The label on the coin was barely visible anymore. 

She ticked and shoved the coin back into the velvet case. 

So much for making the trip more interesting. 

[fernrisulfr]

Dorlen Undertow

This was a character I made for a One-Shot that was sort of an “interview” for a larger campaign. The DM wanted to see how well the new recruits got along with each other, as well as the existing party. He hadn’t expected they’d like all 3 of us, doubling the size of the group. We all decided however not to use these characters for the main game.  I almost died in a Rug of Smothering.  Dorlen Undertow (Bard 1) Sea Elf - Bard - Fishermen - Chaotic Good 

- Father's name is Koriolis, he's either a politician or a bureaucrat. - What was the name of the Ship and Captain that went down? - Backstory, Fishing Voyage gone wrong. They caught/hooked something that didn't appreciate being so. Destroyed the ship and killed the crew. Dorlen survived purely on luck. It decided he could be useful and traded his life in return for a favour. Favour involves the compass pointing South East. - Fell unconscious. Got picked up by a passing ship literal miles away from where his ship had been. (What was THAT ship named?) - arrived at Seige town because he was heading South East from the Port he'd come in from. - Worships Deep Sashelas

Backstory Used: Dorlen had a relatively normal childhood got a Sea Elf, raised by his father Koriolis, and mother Torfiel. Then one day around his third or fourth decade he and several acquaintances decided they wanted to try their hand at traveling the ocean blue not from below, but above. Thus was formed the crew of the eventual ship the "Strange Horizon". His father of course considered it the height of foolishness, a waste of time, and a "phase". Time passed as it does, and for some of the Sea Elf crew it did prove to be a phase. Some even perished, as the sea can be an unforgiving mistress. Those who remained, moved on to discover what about life above the waves they loved most. It was on a ship known as "The Exuberance" that Dorlen discovered his love for fish and song. Of course he'd always been around fish, but the difference in how the 'landies' gathered the bounty of the sea was what he enjoyed. Once again his father thought it was the height of foolishness to waste time with hook, line, and net, when Dorlen was literally capable of going down there and getting the fish more directly. The young man, now Fisherman, didn't care however. The challenge was part of the fun. Decades passed, his skills and experience growing. Every few years he'd send word home, more as a courtesy so they knew he still lived; and when the completion ofe his first century came, he returned home briefly to take on the name Dorlen Undertow. It was just passed three decades after this, that disaster struck. He was sailing upon a fishing vessel known as "Mariner's Folly", under Captain Nolvadd. They'd sailed out a great deal further than most Fishermen would, following a tip that a shoal of rare fish would be passing through on migration from their spawning grounds. They found something rare alright, but it definitely wasn't a shoal of fish. The ship lurched heavily to port when they nets caught, as if snagged on a reef. Least till they ripped clean off. Than someone spotted a dark shape headed away. They didn't normally hunt sharks and whales outside of when times were tough, but they weren't about to look a gift seahorse in the mouth. They shifted the sails and readied the harpoons; biggest mistake of their soon to be very short lives. Dorlen never actually caught sight of the beast, but it ripped the ship to shreds. _Mariner's Folly indeed._ No one survived the assault but Dorlen, and not for reasons he's proud of. Harpoons weren't his thing, he'd come above the waves to stop using a Trident to fish. Instead he'd been leading the crew in a shanty and dancing upon a barrel...which meant he was flung overboard in the first minute and knocked out by debris. When he woke it was in the darkness of the deep waters, before the beast itself, a vague outline in the murk. It touched his mind, told him he'd been lucky to survive, and luckier still that it had use for someone like that. In exchange for his life, Dorlen would do it a favour. Well it called it a 'favour', but really it was compelling him. It gave him a compass, one that pointed vaguely south-east rather than north, and told him to retrieve what belonged to it. After which he blacked out, either from the fear, or some foul magic. When he awoke it was being pulled onto the deck of a freighter a great deal away from where the Folly had gone down. The moment Dorlen reached port, he gathered what supplied he needed and began following the compass South-East, finding no once did it alter direction. Wherever it was taking him it was far. He travelled the land, learning the local tales and songs as he went, and spreading his vast repertoire of shanties to others. Recently he arrived at the village of Ashwell on you way to the town of Elkhorn.  Unfortunately his  timing was terrible and the night he decided to stay at the inn was the same night the goblins attacked. Vastly out of his element in more ways than one, and terrified out of his mind on various levels, he managed to blend it amongst  the villagers escaping to the fortress and just managed to gain entrance to the fortress before the gates were sealed. “You've spent the last several days in the formerly well appointed attic apartment of Lord Tilson's ward ("To be named at the Last Minute') and several of the other people who had helped the villagers make it into the fortress. Of course every sailor knows how to batten down the hatches and work with the crew, so once inside he was compelled to do what he could to help weather this storm and lighten the mood.”

Appearance:  5′10, 155 lbs, Blue Skin, Green Hair, Silver Eyes. Shoulder length hair swept back, always seems to be wet. Wears a purple bandana, low cut v-neck white shirt, two sashes (a large blue one and a smaller purple one), donning a worn sailor’s coat. Plays a concertina.  I tried to make him using HeroForge, but this was back when they had fewer options than they do now, so it’s not quite perfect. I was never 100% pleased with the colours on his coat. 

[nctquiteshakespeare]

She wasn't trying to treat him like a baby, it was just... he was her baby. Pulling her hands back at once, Duchess tried not to let the surprise show on her face, not wanting him to know he had startled her. She thought that she was doing the right thing, she thought she was being helpful, calming, reminding him how much he was cared about. She never tried to make Berlioz, Toulouse or Marie feel like she didn't view them as adults. At the end of the day, they were her children, and each one of them were pieces of her heart walking around on their own two feet, but she knew that they were grown and capable now. She knew it wasn't her job to coddle them. What she didn't know was how to stop.

"I'm sorry," she spoke softly, unsure if he could even hear her apology as he continued to speak, ripping her heart out with every other word. She didn't want him to see it as a mistake to come to her, she didn't want him to be afraid to next time. "Don't say that." Her tone was stern, but her eyes only filled with tears as she stared at him, her worst fear voicing itself. To wish that he hadn't made it, that awful day, that his heart had not been beating still when she got to the hospital... she wasn't trying to be selfish, she knew he couldn't help how he felt, but Duchess could hardly bear to think it, to hear it. "Please don't say that."

Duchess squeezed her eyelids shut, hoping he was too caught up to notice the tears that were slipping out. She tried to hold it together, to not cry in front of them; she didn't want him to know that he was hurting her, she didn't want to falter. She was his support system, and whatever he needed to say, she wanted to be there to hear it. She just wished with everything she had that he felt differently. "Berli, baby," she tried, blinking profusely to clear her eyes. "Our lives would not be better off without you. I understand that is the way it feels to you, but I am... proud to have you as my son, and I know that your siblings love you very much."

Inhaling shakily, she began to speak again when he grabbed the counter, her heart lurching. For a moment, she feared he was about to hit the ground, that he had taken something again, too much of something, maybe intentionally this time... but then his lips were parting to ask for water, and she let a small sigh of relief pass through her own as she turned to grab him a bottle from the fridge, twisting the cap off in the time it took to walk over to where he had sank to the ground. Crouching down beside of him, she held the bottle out, fighting the urge to brush his hair back again, to press the back of her hand against his forehead, make sure he wasn't running a fever.

How many times had she told him that she loved him? It didn't change how he felt. How many times had she tried to push what she thought was the right thing onto him, only to realize it wasn't what he needed? Was she a good mother if she reacted to the things that burdened him more than she let him? It wasn't fair to expect him to handle it better, and it wasn't fair to just assume that she knew how to handle this, that she could sweep it under the rug and everything would. Staring at him, her fingers twitching with the urge to reach out once again, she kept her hand by her side, asking what he hoped would at least let him know that she was here. That she was listening and she was trying. "How can I help you?"

~

Berlioz's breathing became more erratic as the seconds passed by. He felt like the walls were closing in on him and his vision began to blur. Panic washed over him as she took a step closer, fearing she would smell the alcohol coating his shaky breaths. Instead of wanting to dodge away or step further back he let Duchess raise her hands to his face and wipe his tears away. Her hands felt cool compared to his hot, flushed cheeks. For a moment he wanted to let her soothe him, do the exact thing he'd came here for. As his eyes had locked with hers for a brief moment he knew that she wasn't a fool and would be able to tell he's been on drugs from more than just his behavior.

When his mother mentioned getting him to bed his anger and panic levels began to rise more. There it was. She was treating him like a child. Like he was helpless. Like he was fragile. Berlioz pulled away from her when her hand reached to move his hair. He shook his head so it fell back into his space. Maybe out of spite, maybe because he didn't know what else to do. "Stop it. Just stop! I can't fucking take it anymore!" he let out as his voice raised. "Everyone treats me like I'm some pathetic baby and I'm so sick of it. I can't handle it anymore. I'm going to snap!" And maybe he had as his chest heaved up and down from the way he was breathing and how there was a defeated expression on his face.

"Coming here was a mistake. I knew I shouldn't have I--" He patted his pockets back down for his keys again, already forgetting that he'd forgotten them. He stopped for a moment, trying to remember how he got there. Looking back at his mother he knew she was hurting too and he was the cause of it. He seemed to be the cause of a lot of problems. "I love you, Mama, I do. I just...everyone treats me like I'm going to break in half. Maybe I am, I don't know. Sometimes I wish I would just break to death." Did his words make sense? Was he getting his point across. "I wish Marie never found me. I really really wish that. I don't care what happens anymore. I can't take this feeling in my chest anymore. Every single day all day long." That's where the drugs came in. To numb the feeling.

"I don't want to carry on if I have to feel so miserable." His throat was scratchy, still burning from the drip, and his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry you had to end up with me as your son. I'm sorry for everything I do. I know you hurt too and I know that I'm the cause. It eats me alive. My family thinks I hate them but I don't. You would all be better off without me. Everyone probably would." Tears continued to run down his face and he finally looked back to meet Duchess' eyes. The scene he had played out was pathetic to Berlioz. Everything he did was. His mind was so lost and distorted that even the one thing that numbed him couldn't have helped him in any way that night. And mixing them together hadn't done much to help either.

His eyes slowly blinked a few times as he grew dizzy and clutched the edge of the counter. For what felt like eons but was a few moments all time stopped and Berlioz grew confused. He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes for a moment. "I-- Water. Please," he asked her. "I'm..." He tried to open his eyes but it was a mistake as he felt instantly nauseous. As the room spun more he let himself sink down to the floor and leaned his head against the counter. He took a deep breath before trying to speak again, the effects of a panic attack and drugs taking over him. "I don't wanna wake up anymore."

[flokali]

♢ Favorite | Childe

Alternative Title: Yours

Includes: Yandere, Slightly suggestive, Cult, D//rugging, K//idnapping, S/A, N-C kissing SAGAU

Warnings: Slight perv Childe, Yandere, talks of bruises/scares, allusions to past mistreatment (verbal and physical), Childe climbs on top of you and kisses you while ur dr/ugged… so yeah idk what to tag that?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: closeted pervs, pervs… pervs who’re obsessed with you? mhm… yes, i like that. yes. anyway, i’m working of D.V pt 2 and other stuff but yeah take this for now </3 hopefully this isn’t too messy </3

Intended for mature audiences (17+)

You wondered why you thought you had a chance in the first place – not once since you’d arrived had things gone your way, from the cruel words thrown at you in Mondstatd to the harsh blades that sliced you in Inazuma, ever since you’d arrived at Teyvat things had gone horribly wrong for you.

Now here you were, being chased by the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia, for sins unknown to you.

You’d stumbled upon the rough edges of Dragonspine and naively ran straight into the harsh temperament of never-ending winter, hoping the ginger would simply let you be but alas, fate had different plans, and he followed you into the freezing temperatures, bow and arrow in hand.

It had been almost an hour of being lost in the hellish winter lands, but considering he’d been chasing you for days – his patience shouldn’t be surprising.

“Stop making this harder than it needs to be, pal,” Childe mocked, his voice was rough as if he was scolding a child, “you got caught, now give up… this is starting to get really annoying.”

“I normally enjoy this sort of stuff,” he sighs, his voice muffled by the softened snow and fair amount of distance you’d managed to gain, “chasing and hunting, but you… God, you… you really messed up. Showing up looking like that, acting as if you had no idea what you were doing was… disrespectful, matter of fact, that’s what you are; disrespectful and ungrateful, acting like a little kid, and that’s coming from me.”

You wanted to ask what he was talking about, scream and beg him for answers – he spoke as if he understood why you were being targeted, almost as if he wasn’t the one with a finger on a trigger waiting for your next wrong move.

Your body felt weak, you hadn’t eaten in so long — you’d been rejected food and water — your body was fatigued, you were hurting and the freezing temperatures nibbling at your exposed flesh didn’t help. For reasons unknown, as most things were around here to you, you didn’t have to sleep nor eat as often as others — being able to spend the equivalent of days without basic needs, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t growing starved and tired.

The Fatui doesn’t stop talking, he had nothing to worry about — his clothes were warm and his basic human rights had been served, not only was he ridiculously strong but he had every and all advantages over you, from a fed stomach to a good night’s rest and a weapon, you were mere child’s pray to an experienced hunter.

His words were insulting, criticizing your character – which he’d never taken the time to know, you note – to your appearance, the way you moved and acted, nothing was off the table as he tore you apart with words as he waited to rip you apart later.

Is this how you die? — you muse, you decide to tune out his sing-song voice, his words hurt and why focus on more pain when death was basically inviting you over for a cup of tea?

The thought brings tears to your eyes, tears that had been piling up since the day you’d arrive to this hell-hole, you had been home one day – playing games and enjoying life, your life, as pathetic and miserable as it may seem to some, and now you were here; being prosecuted and sentenced for a crime you didn’t even know about.

The people you’d helped, stupid, brainless string of code and characters in your stupid, time-consuming game that didn’t offer any real life consequences (that shouldn’t offer real life consequences) turned their backs on you and left you to die a slow and painful death. How pathetic.

This is how you die — you think, certain of your impending doom.

You were crying, all of your strength now concentrated in your shaking form, tears now streamed down your face – you didn’t notice too busy in your worn self pity to realize, but the harsh temperatures further dropped with the evidence of your sorrows running down your face, with every tear the mountains seemed to weep alongside you; snow now fell at a more frequent pace echoing the water dripping down your face.

“What did I do wrong…” You ask the skies, no longer caring to hide — it was inevitable that he’d find you. Your sobs grow louder the closer he gets and the quieter he becomes, soon – you couldn’t make out whatever cruel remarks he was spouting, probably busy focusing on the meek sounds escaping your weakened body trying to get this over with, he was enjoying your suffering, wasn’t he?

He stops walking (something you vaguely note, too tired to try and escape now), in mere seconds he’s standing behind the rock he’s certain you’re hiding against – all he needs to do is ambush you, strike your chest with an arrow and things would be over with, he’d be back on track to Liyue and off to his next destination. And yet, his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the wooden handle of his bow – he couldn’t bring himself to aim.

But isn’t this what he wanted? He’d asked The Tsaritsa for a longer stay in Liyue for this exact moment, he’d even followed you through Liyue and up until this damned mountain. He would have finally gotten rid of the fake God, the pest that had been making its way around Teyvat making a fool of themselves and everyone around them. He wouldn’t have been so bothered if it hadn’t been someone impersonating you, but that wasn’t the case — the idiot, the absolute bastard, had the balls to make a divine comedy of you and it made Childe sick.

And yet, as he stood above you, only a few steps away, a lift of a finger from ending your life, he couldn’t.

Something deep inside him made him stall, he didn’t understand why until you finally spoke to him for the first time in the almost three days he’d been hunting you like sport.

“At least tell me what I did to deserve this, Ajax.”

Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax ,Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax… you called him by his name.

Ajax.

No one knew his name – more like, no one should know his name, so why did you – some outlander, some weird, demented freak making a mockery of his God know his name?

He let the thoughts simmer in his head; an outlander that knew his name, that knew where they were without even looking at a map, one that navigated the hills and their surroundings like an expert, that had the soil and skies of Teyvat answer their cries, who managed to affect Dragonspine’s weather… you weren’t a freak, he realizes as horror sinks in, and he was the bastard.

He was the bastard that was about to kill God.

The realization comes to him and he almost drops to his knees, as if someone had punched the air out of his lungs, things suddenly made more sense – the reason he was so compelled to follow you, how you seemed to never run out of energy, how things always turned out in your favor even if they shouldn’t, you were God. His God. Of course he’d be moved the way he was, even if his mind didn’t know it, his spirit, his soul did, his body did.

He was about to kill God.

The only thing that had kept him going during his time inside the Abyss, the very thing that gave him hope for a better future, he had chased away and threatened.

You hear the odd sound he lets out – something between a scream and cry, a muddled laugh of pain and confusion – and you’re tempted to look around to see what had happened, you knew Childe was close, so why didn’t he just go and get it over with? Was he… was he mocking you? This had to be an attempt to make this more fun, have you crawl out of your hiding spot so he could pounce on you and kill you in the open so he’d have more space to be creative.

You still want to turn around, after all no matter what you did your fate was sealed — you obviously weren’t leaving the mountains alive, so would it really matter if he killed you against a stiff rock or soft snow? But he beats you to it and bright blue eyes meet yours much to your shock. You feel heart stop.

He doesn’t say anything, whatever episode that had previously consumed him gone, as his hand reaches out and you flinch, instinctively throwing your body back in fear, in hopes he’d leave you alone — his eyes widen and soon fill with sadness but he doesn’t take his hand back, rather, he reaches forward to pull you closer to him, his weapons are nowhere in his person as shaky hands explore you, almost as if looking for something.

He’s hugging you, and unbeknownst to you, while trying to get a feel for your body to see if the familiar warmth he’d feel whenever he acted as your vessel was there; it was, overflowing from your shaking body, further confirming that you were indeed who he thought, who he feared, you were.

“What are you…?” You want to question, your voice comes out barely a whisper above the sounds of wind pounding against the trees.

“Say it again,” he whispers, pulling you impossibly close to his body – effectively shutting you up, “say my name again, please.”

“…” You can’t move, afraid you’d upset him and cause him to shove a knife down your throat or whatever he planned to do.

“Please,” he squeezed you tighter, you choke at the sudden roughness, “I need to know if I heard you well.”

It was a lie, of course, he knew you’d said his name loud and clear, – Ajax, Ajax, Ajax… he could repeat the memory in his head forever and not get tired – with the most adorable pronunciation he’d heard, it was making him feel dirty for the thoughts that flooded his mind in regards to you. You had called him by his name in such a familiar way, a way he’d only heard in his dreams.

“Ajax?” You let out, your body was cold and you just wanted to get everything over with, “I… I called you Ajax.”

“So it is you,” he lets out, a dry laugh coming from his lips, gloved hands grip at your clothed body like a starved man, “hah… you should’ve said something sooner, it would’ve saved us so much time… your highness.”

Completely confused you try to push him off, what was he saying? Your highness? One second he was trying to kill you, then he was asking you to say his name, and now here he was – addressing you as some sort of divine figure? If this was part of his plan to torture you, it must be very effective because you’re soon growing exhausted at the way he’s acting, your time here had been pure and utter misery, and dealing with a two faced man who didnt know if he wanted you dead or close only aggravated you more.

No matter how much you tried to push him off and get him to answer your questions – mote like demands for answers, the Harbinger wouldn’t budge, instead opting to lift you off the ground and carry you. He lifted you without a warning, leaving you speechless for a good while as you try and reason what’s going on, still so caught off guard you don’t even realize you’ve asked him where you’re going until he’s giggling like a high schooler.

Your face might have been hidden under the fur jacket he was wearing, your vision being rendered useless, but you could still hear the smile, the fondness in his voice as he stated what to him must have been the most obvious matter in the world; “I’m taking you home.”

He says it like it’s some sort of joke you’re supposed to get, but you’re left to wonder what it meant as he provided no further context.

He doesn’t let you down, literally, for even a second – making the treacherous journey from your hiding spot to where he’d set up camp with little to no complaints, seemingly deep in thought at what had just transpired in the last hour, you don’t try to make conversations either as your own thoughts consume you.

“I just can’t believe it,” he mumbles, carrying you to what you presume to be his tent, “they had it all so, so wrong… hurting and attacking you, poor little thing. It’s okay, my love, I’ll make it up to you,” he doesn’t seem to expect any answers as he drones on, “so I’m going to heal you and keep you to myself while I figure out what to do with you. Doesn’t that sound nice? Your Ajax will make it all better.”

Oh how lucky he was, meeting and recognizing you before any other man or woman in Teyvat. So what if his original intentions hadn’t been as savory as he wished they had been, the past is the past and you’re safe with him now.

You’re carried inside the tent and immediately handed a bottle of warm liquid you don’t hesitate to down — you hadn’t had a drink or food in days, and even if Childe intended to dispose of you afterwards, who were you to deny yourself of being taken care of, even if it was for one last time.

There was no one around other than you two, you realize – no Treasure Hunters nor Fatui, nor guild members seemed to be nearby. But you didn’t mind, too preoccupied trying to figure out what the blue eyed man could want to do next — you’d accepted your fate but it didn’t mean it didn’t scare you.

It’s not even a few minutes later that you realize you can’t bring yourself to ask anything, your body slowly succumbing to a paralyzed state where you could only feel warmth – while there had been no previous attempts from either of you to talk, Tartaglia too busy buried in his own thoughts to speak to you now and you too scared of setting him off, you realize too late there’s a lot you want to say.

Realizing your now relaxed state (due to the concoction he had you drink earlier on - he knew you didn’t trust him enough to willingly realz around him), Ajax begins to look at your otherwise frozen body, you’re not able to resist as he slowly strips you off your clothes in favor of his spares; ones that left you exposed as he looked over and tended to your wounds, by the time he’s got to use the alcohol to disinfect the cuts on your body you’re inches away from being knocked out.

He was uncharacteristically quiet while assessing your figure, only letting out huffs and grunts when he caught sight of a particularly deep scar or bruised patch of skin he wished he didn’t have to see. He took the moment of silence to think, you must have suffered greatly in the last few months you’d been stranded here – alone, hated, feared, it must have been hellish. The severity of his actions slowly dawned on him, he’d been brash – he hadn’t taken the chance to properly asses you, out of everyone, he should have been the one to quickly notice who you were; he’d been surrounded by imagery and depictions of you for so long, he’d dedicated so much of himself to you and yet, when he stood in front of you for the first time, he acted harshly and like a savage.

His heart aches and he hoped you were as benevolent as he remembered you being, he would work himself to his bones if it meant earning your forgiveness and favor once more.

“I can’t believe they would’ve done this to you, my love,” he finally breaks the silence, caressing your exposed collarbone, a fire now burned in the tent granting his face a gentle orange glow as the sun began to set, “I’ll take you to Liyue where I can heal you better, maybe find a doctor who can do a better job than me, but we’ll be leaving for Snezhnaya soon after you’re better so you can meet… my boss, I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to finally meet you.”

His voice holds no strong emotion, he can’t bring himself to forgive his actions — he’d been so childish, you probably hated him.

The thought struck his heart cold, you hated him. How was he supposed to live if you hated him?

“I am sorry,” he whispers, finally making eye contact with you, his fingers caressed your skin as if you were made of fine glass, afraid you’d break further if he applied too much pressure, “I acted out, I was stupid, and I hurt you.”

Your eyes were glazed, your head felt like it was floating – but you could still register his words, and maybe it was because he was the first person who’d treated you well, like you were a human, or maybe it was because you were too high off whatever substances was now flowing through your body but you spoke (even though it was too much effort for you to try and say anything too long).

“I… forgive you.” You let out a broken smile, muscles too tired to try anything that looked, well, good but your words were enough for him.

“You’re too kind to me,” he mumbles, slowly intertwining his fingers with your own – ecstasy slowly pumping through his veins as your words settle in, “I’m so lucky to have such a kind God,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, “so let me make it up to you, my providence.”

“Before that though, I…” He pauses, if he took you to Snezhnaya you’d be able to be protected by the Fatui and Her Excellency, you’d help bring their plan to life faster than ever — you’d be able to enact your just revenge with the Fatui by your side, with him as your second in command, however he could always… “I need to make sure I’m your favorite, don’t you think? I still need to make up for what I’ve done.”

God, was he a selfish bastard — but you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? You’d already forgiven him for being so cruel to you, you’d forgive him for being selfish too, right?

His cheeks earn a sudden pink tint, your favorite; you’d love him, you’d adore him – you’d rule over the land with him by your side, he’d be everything you’d ever need in a partner, in a man.

Once you’d regained your strength, you’d shower him in love, you’d ravage him with gifts, you’d dedicate yourself to him, you might even allow him a chance to worship your body — give him the privilege to explore and devote himself to you like no other had done before. He’d become your most loyal follower, your most treasured creations, he’d become yours. Sure, he would still have The Tsaritsa to serve but when even she worshiped you, she’d understand. He could become a bargaining chip, he’d become yours – your knight in shining armor, in exchange for your help.

There were so many ways he could become yours, he felt a perverted shiver run down his spine.

Hah… he really wanted to be your favorite, to be yours.

They’d all treated you so badly up until he came, he was the first to realize who you were and your worth so surely that allowed him some leeway to cement himself as yours, only yours and only for you.

He slowly climbed above your dizzied body, leaning down to press a soft trail of kisses down your cheeks, his hands still entangled with yours. A soft moan leaves your mouth, earning you a groan from the man, if only you knew how much he had waited for this moment.

“Mmh, ah,” a trail of saliva connects the flushed skin of your neck to his tongue as he speaks, “let me be yours, I’ll…,” a lick is planted near your ear and Childe can’t help but groan at the taste – you were so addicting, “I’ll make it up to you… I’ll become your favorite.”

[dmc-tings]

The four Lord's accidentally hurting their s/o during an argument

Alcina Dimitrescu

She was BEYOND PISSED

You had gone to hangout with her brutish brother, Heisenberg

Again

Without her knowing

She didn't mind, as long as you told her

But it seemed like you made it a POINT to leave without doing so

"Alcina, I'm a grown (man/woman/person) I can go as I please!"

"Oh forgive me for treating you like a child! As your behavior has shown me!"

She stood tall and stiff, arguing with you

And you stood (as tall as you could), glaring at her with defiance

Alcina was sheathing and unsheathing her long claws behind her back

Trying not to slice her beloved's head off

But when you got like this, it was rather difficult

You threw your hands up, in anger

"This is the shit, Heisenberg, is talking about!! You use your height to talk down on everyone!! And it-"

She swung her hand to shut you up

And.... well it did shut you up

Her claws had been out

Slicing your midsection open, effectively gutting you

Before you could hit the ground, the Draculina caught you

And rushed you to her chambers, where the maids started to care for you

She never left your side, holding your hand

Once cleaned, sewn up and bandaged, the chambermaids left your both alone

There she sat for days, for her it felt like months, years... and eternity even

You finally woke up and looked at her

For the first time in almost a century, Alcina let herself be human

Large, fat tears where streaming down her face

Though she made no sound and you couldn't see her eyes

You knew by how hard she tightened her grip on your hand

That she was relieved and desperately sorry

"Im sorry too, you know... I should be more careful about your feelings. And-"

She cut you off

This time with her lips, forgiving you with no words

Angie and Donna Beneviento

On very, very, very rare occasions would you and Donna argue

And this was such a time

You had wanted to go into the village

But Donna, insisted you stay home, just for a bit

This, for whatever reason, pissed you off

"Your so goddamned controlling, Donna! Is it a big fucking problem for me to want to be alone, just for a few hours!?"

She never would say anything back, she didn't have to

The pollen would do it for her

Through narrowed eyes, she made you see the worst

Your angry ranting stopped

You saw your family's deaths replaying

Right. In. Front. Of. You.

Your mother crashing in to a dark river, your brother slashing his arms, bleeding out, and your father going mad, setting the family home on fire, letting himself burn alive

You knew none of this was true, but.... it felt so real...

You fell to your knees, weeping, but making no noise

Letting the tears fall, you sat back pulling your knees to your chest

Donna and Angie both knew it was going a bit too far

"Great!! Now (he/she/they're) broken!" Angie fussed

Donna made the illusion dissappear, feeling bad about what she had done

You were curled up, holding yourself

Angie, was already at your side, uncharacteristically, trying to soothe you

Donna kneeled on front of you, wiping your tears

You all sat like this for hours

Finally, you calmed down

"Donna-"

She shushed you, pulling you into her arms

You hugged her and Angie

This is how you all forgave one another

And it always worked

Salvatore Moreau

He never liked it when you got like this...

You could be come so rageful

And it scared and confused him

All he asked was "Darling? Will you help me decide which experiment to send to Mother?"

And you exploded, throwing things and yelling at him

"EVERYTHING YOU DO IS FOR MIRANDA!! WHAT ABOUT ME!? IM TIRED OF THIS SHIT!!"

This continued, until you threw a knife in his direction

It just barely missed hitting him

This caused him to explode as well

Like Donna, he rarely argues but that was the last straw

You stopped your rampage to watch his

He finally turned into his MASSIVE other form

And rushed off

You realized that you were to blame for this

So you followed him to the Reservoir

Watching him let out his anger out in the water and surrounding area

Him, not knowing you followed, bashed into some of the rocks

Causing them to fall, on top of you

Luckily, you jumped far enough away, not to get completely covered

You screamed as your leg got caught in the rockfall

Moreau hear it, transformed back and rushed to you

Uncovering the rocks, and pulled you to him

Quickly he made a tourniquet and gently pulled you to safety

"Im sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there, my Precious..."

He continued to whimper apologies to you

You cut him off, "No... im sorry, I shouldn't explode like that..."

You both sat in comfortable silence, knowing that this would happen again

Probaly

Karl Heisenberg

You both were HEATED

You simply asked him to help you out a bit with some chores

To which he exploded

Throwing harsh and colorful words at you

"Ungrateful lazy bitch." Was hastily thrown at you

To which you retaliated with, "Piece of shit garbage."

Not caring about the floating debris, you tried to leave

Which Heisenberg blocked your way, a bit too aggressive

Not bothering to look at what he did

One of the flying slabs of metal sliced open your arm

Almost cutting it off

Though Karl didn't look at you, but your screech made him whirl around

Anger gone, when he saw your blood pouring out on to the floor

He rushed to your side, ripping his shirt into makeshift bandages

As he was wrapping you up, you started to pass out due to bloodloss

For the first time, in the longest time, Heisenberg felt himself panic

"Y/N! Stay with me, please!! Dont-"

You lost consciousness

He stood up and pulled you into his arms and rushed to Dimitrescu Castle

Kicking the large door in, he demanded that Lady D help

She was about to refuse, but saw the tears streaming down his face

And an eyeful of you bleeding out

She quickly snapped at her chambermaid's to help you

A few hours passed, with Heisenberg pacing outside of the room where you were being cared for

When the door opened he pushed past the maid, to your side

You looked at him, wanting to hit him

But softened up seeing this rugged man crying and apologizing for his outburst

You couldn't get him to shut up

And he held your hand like a life line

You petted his head with your other hand

Once he calmed down, you started to laugh

Karl looked at you like you lost your mind

"What the FUCK are you laughing at!? I almost took your gotdamn arm off!! I-"

"I... i..." You wheezed, " I forgot why we were arguing."

Karl looked up thoughtfully, "Damn. So did i."

He leaned forward and gave you a kiss

"Still... im sorry."

[wesslan]

OOOH! that makes so much sense now! thank you for explaining <3

here are a few things that i always have in the back of my mind while im writing (this is a LONG one because i get too excited):

- Tim’s apartment is in Old Gotham (this is mentioned a few times). In my head, Old Gotham is like the typical ”old” part of any european city. You got the cobblestone, the jugend, the art deco, the elaborate decor and fancy trim of buildings. Steel balconies with twirled, intricate spikes, gargoyles and churches a-plenty! It’s a fancy place, but Tim lives in the more ”run down” part. Things might still look a little fancy if you just give it a quick glance, but look closer and you see facades crumbling, roof-tiles falling off, streetlights (like, the ones with neat little boxes at the top - not the modern ones) are flickering and unreliable. Everything is narrow, the alleys, the stairwells, and the ivy is slowly but surely destroying facades.

- Tim’s fridge is squareish, old and a pale yellow.

- Almost everything in his apartment is made up of thing’s that he has found, either by thrifting or just straight up found, like. On the street. This includes rugs, (velvet) curtains, a patchwork bedspread, various knick-knacks and trinkets, bone mobiles (that hes crafted) and furniture.

- He uses a laundromat, hauling his stuff in his trusty duffelbag down a couple of streets

- Tim very much dresses like a stereotypical fortune teller while on the job. Silk, velvet, lace, big sleeves, robes, mountains of jewelry. But when he is just Tim, he doesn’t really know what to wear. He has a pair of ripped, slightly baggy jeans that he likes. A hoodie from a concert he went to once. But mostly (at least when it’s cold) it’s knitted sweaters from thriftstores.

- On that subject, he’s not a huge fan of summer. Too warm to get decked out in all his attire, but he still kind of has to do it to keep up the vibes. Sucks.

- Dick had a teenage rebellion phase that very much included partying and all that jazz, but he’s since settled down. Quit smoking and instead started being a big brother. This has a lot to do with Jason dying and him feeling supremely guilty about it.

- Steph lives in Wayne Manor. Where are her folks? Cluemaster’s in jail and her mother I try not to think too closely about lmao. She’s kept herself a bit out of the spotlight, but is still very much a part of their family.

- Bruce is very much one of those dads where if you once mention offhandedly that you like apples, he will have at least ten of them in the fruitbowl on the kitchen table at all times. Oh, you like Moomin? Guess what your christmas/birthday presents will be for the next two years!

- Someone did pick the inscription on Timothy Drake’s grave. But I can’t tell you who just quite yet ;)

- Unless stated otherwise, all floors are hardwood. In Tim’s apartment, they aren’t polished and are quite run down, smooth with wear but still prone to give you splinters. In Wayne Manor, they are shining.

- This is mentioned in the fic but Wayne Manor is huge. Like. HUGE. ENORMOUS.

- Galas in Gotham City very much like to hire attractions and entertainment- hence Tim’s employment. At any gala worth its salt, you will find musicians, little vendors, someone cooking your appetizers in real time,,, just things like that.

- Wayne Manor has Morris wallpaper.

- Tim doesn’t have wallpaper. He has nailed up fabrics and various artwork he’s found covering the white (slightly crumbling) walls.

- Tim does drink, but not in excess. He keeps it to special occasions. (Like, celebrating new years on his grave!)

- Jason is considering buying a vape to feel less guilty about smoking with Dick close by, even though it will infinitely lower his coolness status if the Red Hood is ever caught with some blueberry-drizzle cool breeze pink melon shit. He’s conflicted.

- Dick knows this. He finds it hilarious. Especially because he really doesn’t mind Jason smoking that much.

- Jason is hispanic. Dick is romani. Tim’s mom is of french descent and he does know how to speak french, even if his fluidity has taken a hit from him p much never speaking it. (Might write this in somehow, just haven’t figured out how/when yet.)

- Barbara is tearing her hair out at the hacker who disappeared. Bruce too, though he’s got more pressing things to think of (how to adopt tim in a way that isnt legally classified as kidnapping)

- Jason and Dick also live in the manor. Dick has an apartment but hes only there sometimes. Jason makes more of a habit out of staying in safehouses.

- Dick is not a cop. His day job is being the oldest (and according to him: freshest n flyest) Wayne Heir.

- Damian is currently wondering if he can employ the same tactic to get a dog as he did with the cat.

- Damian and Jason share a love for reading, though Damian is just discovering his.

uuuh i think thats all i can think of rn, mostly i keep all this in my brain. sorry for it being a billion words long HAHAH

oh yeah one more thing:

- this fic was supposed to be like 20k words at most. help.

can I get the sweet sweet behind the scenes lore about cards on the table

i would give it to you in a HEARTBEAT if i actually knew what “behind the scenes lore” meant😭😭 this might be a english-is-my-second-language moment hhhh pls explain further❤️❤️