#I post horses and express loving them

[hellonoblesky]

Playing the am I tweaking game

[sexynetra]

I miss Marcia on instagram so bad I am going to personally set fire to the houses of all the people who chased them off the app 😔

[lizziesfirstwife]

Inevitable

pt.2 to Guardian Angel

jinu x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death and blood, depressive themes, possessive jinu, thirsty reader, suggestive language, use of Y/N, banter, slow burn, not proof-read

word count: 4807 (sorry not sorry)

authors note: listened to Ms.Whitman by Bhad Bhabie & watched the Korean Pop the Balloon or find Love halfway writing this. Fought writers block like crazy to bring this out, so enjoy! 🤍

Of all the ways to lose a person, death is the kindest.

It was quick. In most cases.

The air smelled of rain and cherry blossom. The hem of her dress was soaked, her shoes wet from running through the soaked grounds of the forest she had been hiding in for the past few hours.

Sunshine crawled its way through the canopy that the trees created. A desperate consolation, sympathy for her impending doom.

Tears streamed down her face, blisters adorning her feet like a plague, blood and mud sticking to them. She wanted to scream. So many things left for her to do, things she had carelessly written in her diary before going to bed.

I don’t know how to fix this.

The ground gave way beneath her, mud crept further and further up her legs, the lower part of her dress now completely wet.

Silence.

She stood still.

The air smelled of cherry blossoms and death. Her hands, which had once been white with cinnamon and flour, were now stained red.

Was it blood?

I fear that I will love you more than I will ever be allowed to.

Her hair had long since come loose from her bun, the strands knotted and frizzy from running through the rain. Her barrette was lost too far away to retrieve, buried under mud and tears.

Birds were chirping. It was supposed to be a gift. She cried when she found out the price of the hanbok, made of lace and pure silk. Pink silk, hand-dyed with chrysanthemums and madder root. Lace, which was reserved for noble brides only.

She wanted to be a bride so badly.

Out of love for you, I have forgiven the world for what it has done to me.

A tear rolled down her face. She would have made a beautiful bride. An extraordinary one.

Now the dress that was supposed to be her wedding dress, was stained full of blood.

Her feet gave way and her body met the mossy forest floor. The sun shone golden down on her, as if to…comfort her.

Horse galloping. Screams.

Her hand closed around the diamond on her necklace, the only thing not stained by her blood.

She had always known that she would die first. It was inevitable.

˙⋆✮

Her cat jumped off the bed when she woke up screaming.

A week had passed since the strange encounter in the bakery.

She hadn't thought about what the encounter might have meant or why the strange man looked so familiar to her. Thinking about it would bring no clarity, only confusion.

Taking a deep breath, she threw back her blanket and took a sip out of the water bottle she had put on her bedside table. It was rare that she woke up before her alarm, but this dream had shaken something inside her that she didn't know was dormant.

After the meeting a week ago, she went to the post office to send her boss a letter demanding her contractual 14 days of paid leave.

Sonder.

The realization that every soul on this planet has their own story, their own pains to carry silently, ambitions that might never come true, dreams that were shattered, love that was forbidden to be expressed.

She wondered what he was doing with his life. Was he a shop assistant like her? No, he hadn't shown enough feigned niceness for that. When you had to deal with people every day and your survival depended on how convinced they were of you, you quickly learned how to manipulate people.

He didn't come across to her as the kind of person who needed to lie to people in order to survive. Maybe health care? Y/N imagined him in a white coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck.

Doctors didn't really lie, they didn't need to. They earned their living without lying to their patients, mostly. There would always be senior citizens with blood pressure problems, young women with iron deficiency, couples with fertility problems, and more than enough accidents.

She bit her lip before spitting her toothpaste into the sink. He would look good in uniform.

The smell of sandalwood and rain caught her nose, a crow cawed outside.

The sun was almost completely up, the dew still fresh, the sound of rain hitting the streets. The truth was, she didn't know why she had taken vacation. She took her necklace from her jewelry box on the dresser and clasped it carefully around her neck. It was an heirloom, at least that's what her great-grandmother told her before she died. It certainly looked old enough. The silver had a few scratches, the diamond hanging from it a bit dull.

Maybe she wanted to sleep in for once, or stop baking any more cinnamon rolls.

She took her perfume bottle, and wrapped herself in a cloud of sakura and dreamy vanilla. Her hair looked dull. The circles under her eyes were darker than usual, her skin dry from the lack of moisturizer.

When she was little, her mother used to say that her beauty was her greatest weapon. Not her knowledge, or her kindness.

Beauty was like a bullet that you could shape until it fitted into a weapon. You could polish it, improve it, maintain it.

Aim.

And fire if necessary.

In a selfish world, only the selfish could succeed. Y/N was never selfish. She didn't have it in her. She wanted to be. Too many cruel people were wronging humanity, too many evil people became successful. It seemed as if people had to hate each other in order to survive day after day, as if there was nothing left for the good souls in this world, nothing for those who recognized the strength in being kind and did not give up being so.

Sometimes she felt like she could snap, shout at everyone who treated her like shit. But did she want to be admitted to a ward? Hell no.

So she didn’t.

Rain beat against the glass of her windows. A sigh escaped her lips, applying the last bit of blush before going to her coat rack. How could it be that it was raining for the seventh day in a row? Y/N looked down and grimaced. She didn't like her rain boots. Not one bit. They weren't ugly, a simple shade of black, but whenever she had to put them on it felt like she was waddling. Just because it was raining didn't mean she wanted to feel like a duckling.

She loved the rain. The sound made her think a little less about just everything, her personal white noise. It was already warm outside, the early morning hours heating up the air. At work, she had no choice but to wear long clothes. It wasn't a company rule, but she had made the mistake of putting on an expensive dress on her first day at work and had to take it straight to the cleaner afterwards.

There was an indescribable emptiness inside her that she didn't know when or how it had taken root, like a virus trying to claim the happiness inside her for itself. She turned away from her coat stand.

She didn't bother to lock her apartment as she walked out the door.

˙⋆✮

It was Sunday again. But the emptiness, the feeling of not having earned waking up, did not rise with Jinu.

His throat felt dry. He hummed a song as he fished a shirt out of his closet, a black one made of silk, and sprayed a little perfume on his neck and in his hair.

He was leaving the bathroom when he paused.

Two steps back, one reach up. He put the bottle of perfume back in the cupboard, now that his wrists also smelled of sandalwood. Jinu didn't know why he even owned perfume. It wasn't as if demons stank, or needed anything other but their sheer will to bring people to their doom.

He frowned as he looked in the mirror. In the past, before his time as a soul hunter, he used to steal pastries from the palace kitchen, breaking them in two and using the contents as a perfume. He knew that no one would understand why he would have done such a thing, when he was in a good position as a musician at court. He didn't have to steal food from the kitchen to smell good. The most extravagant, expensive and unique perfumes in the whole of Joseon were at his disposal.

Jinu shut the bathroom door harder than necessary behind him. There were things in his past that not even he knew why he had done them.

The sun shone bright when he left his apartment. It had stopped raining half an hour ago, birds were flying around, more pedestrians roaming around and prattling than usual.

Even if he couldn't feel hunger himself, human food still tasted good to him. Paying for something in order to devour it made him feel less guilty than actually devouring lost souls.

Cinnamon, cherry blossoms.

He shook his head.

Since their encounter a week ago, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman in the bakery. How she smelled, how she talked, how she looked at him. She didn’t spare him a second glance. She didn’t scream when she saw him, he wasn’t sure if she even recognized him. And strangely enough, Jinu liked that. It was a change from the fans who usually fawned over him and acted like he was their promised husband and father of their future children.

He didn't want to, he didn’t plan to. He just wanted to stop by the next day, seeing if everything was going fine. The smile on her face when he chose the cinnamon rolls were still etched in the back of his mind. But when he peered through the shop window the day after their encounter, she was nowhere to be seen. So he walked around the block. Maybe she was in the back, in the kitchen, or the storeroom. But when he finished his walk and looked through the window again, the only woman in the shop was an employee over 40.

The wind blew through his hair, begging him to return to reality. There was no reason to think about a bakery employee who had simply sold him a cinnamon roll. He didn't want to be a stalker, like those in the movies he had seen becoming popular over the decades.

Jinu bit his lip. If that were the case, he would also have to think about the saleswoman in the clothing store and the manager for their concerts.

But it couldn’t be described as mere thinking anymore. He was almost embarrassed to have so many thoughts about someone who’s job was to offer him a service.

Get a grip.

What Jinu had learned in his more than 400 years of existence, was that peace, reliability, and good company were characteristics he utterly valued in his life. The second and third were areas for improvement, but he implemented the first into his life as best he could. As peaceful as a demon could exist.

He had been on Earth for several weeks now, their mission to destroy the Honmoon as close to being completed as possible. He was here to steal souls, to destroy them, not to care about their well-being. And he was exceptionally good at stealing souls. Demons could see the worth of a soul just by glancing at a person. There were souls that carried no light within them, souls that were not worth saving. Souls with no value.

These souls were easy targets.

There were hardly any souls left with light within them, souls that tried to live, that protected the flame of purpose within them despite the horrors this world carried.

He had never seen a soul like hers before. Pain, hopelessness, buried under an even greater longing to live, to survive.

A soul written in textbooks. Exactly what they needed.

He tilted his head back.

What was wrong with him? She didn't deserve to be seen as an ingredient. She wasn't a puzzle piece he could grab and adjust until the whole picture was right.

He took a deep breath. She wasn't important. There were plenty of other souls. Weaker souls, souls he didn't have to search for. More work for him.

He didn't care.

The wind blew cold as he turned into a quiet street. He wandered aimlessly, no purpose to his walk.

He stopped. Wind blew in his direction, caressing his face with utter care. Was that... no. He shook his head and walked on. Another gust of wind. A familiar scent, surrounding him, enveloping him, caressing him.

˙⋆✮

"And what did you answer to that?"

Y/N took a sip of her hot chocolate and sighed. She hated coffee; the taste was too bitter to drink every day. But she had a penchant for anything sweet. Her parents used to make snaky jokes about the tooth fairy loving her, because she was going to be her most loyal customer with how much sugar she consumed.

"That I didn't see why I should work another 12-hour shift on a Saturday for the third time in a row, alone with the intern, just because he wanted to go to a resort in Incheon with his mistress."

The man across from her laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"How did you know that the woman next to him was his affair?"

Y/N raised her eyebrow. "Women have a much better sense for these things than you think Joon. I have a sixth sense for shady entities. First of all, I knew he was married, because every year since I started working for him, he took a weekend off in June for his wedding anniversary. Second, his real wife was here last year for the reopening after the big renovation.”

Y/N hummed. Her boss’s wife was a real nice lady, small with a kind smile. What a shame to be tied to an ungrateful cheater who you had children with.

“And third... no man who has been married for 30 years would still deal with the trouble of taking his wife away every week and spending an entire spa weekend on her, three times…back to back.”

She raised her eyebrows and poked her apple pie with her fork.

"I hate men. They will say all women are the same, yet they get upset when you point out their oddly similar and reoccurring behavior."

The man shook his head and took a sip of his cappuccino.

“So you’ve given up on them?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "Difficult to give up something you haven’t even started." Shaking her head, she put her face in her hands.

"I don't know what to do with myself either. On one hand, I don't want to be taken advantage of. I don't want to become one of those crying women who eat tons of ice cream whining about some douchebag. Just thinking about it disgusts me. Being with someone, only for him to break up with me a few weeks later. Or better, a year later! More wasted time."

She sighed.

"But God... I don't want to be lonely. I don't mind being alone, but I don't want to give up the dream of finding someone for myself." Her eyes twinkled as she leaned back in her chair.

"Kind of funny, isn't it?"

Joon just shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid I can't help you there sweetheart."

Y/N took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked out the window.

"Kind of weird to be the only one not being in a relationship." She shrugged her shoulders and watched people wandering around outside the café.

Her companion eyed her and leaned back in his chair. "You do realize that you're amazing even without someone by your side?"

She laughed, laughed deeply, and put her cup down. "I guess I do. I guess."

Outside, a few teenagers sat drinking juice and eating scrambled eggs with bacon. A mother and her baby sat at a table shaded by a tree, stroller pushed to the side, a cup of steaming something in front of her.

Babies. Y/N hummed and drank the last sip of her chocolate. She always knew she never wanted to have children. The idea of being responsible for another living being, for more than 18 years, was cruel to her. Children were great. She herself had become an aunt two years ago, her older sister now living in Busan with her husband. A niece. Y/N smiled at the thought of her and looked into her empty cup. She loved her, a little angel. But she never wanted children herself. She saw how little time her sister had left for her real family. A repeating pattern.

Y/N shook her head as she looked out of the window again. She would rather put up with 12-hour shifts every Saturday of the week for the rest of her life, than have children of her own.

Her friend sighed and put on his jacket.

"I really hate to leave you alone already, but I still have to pick up the cake for Eric or I won't be able to get everything ready in time."

Eric was Joon's boyfriend from Australia. His family didn't know he was gay, the stigma in South Korea still far too great. You weren't persecuted or arrested for loving the same gender, but it wasn't welcomed. So Joon told his family that Eric was an Erica, and that she was studying in Goyang and therefore couldn't visit him often. His family bought it. He was their only son and they didn't want to scare him away.

Y/N sighed and placed her saucer on his, their cups next to it. "I need to go for a walk anyway. My head's buzzing around like there's no stopping anytime soon." She looked outside and smiled faintly. "Enjoying the five seconds without rain before the flood attacks me again."

Joon laughed and stood up. She looked up at him, stretching as she did the same.

"Is he still calling me halmeoni?"

Joon raised an eyebrow and reached his hand out for their tableware, only to have it slapped away by her hand.

"I could lie."

Y/N rolled her eyes at his answer, somehow managing to put the 2 plates and cups on her left arm.

"Tell the kangaroo I said hi."

Joon laughed and gave her an obscene gesture as he left the café, leaving her behind with the dishes in her arms.

"Idiot."

She shook her head as she placed the dishes on the dish rack. Joon really was a complete idiot, but a nice one. She grabbed her purse and left the café.

The sun was now shining so brightly that she felt ridiculous for taking an umbrella with her when leaving her apartment. Luckily, it was one of those small foldable ones, so she could stow it in her purse.

The teenagers had long since taken off, the weather too nice to stay sitting somewhere the whole time. Y/N frowned. The stroller was still in the same spot under the shaded tree she spotted it in as she looked out the window earlier, but the mother was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't seen her go into the café either.

Y/N sighed and looked to the right and left before approaching the stroller. Her suspicion was confirmed when she spotted a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket inside, brown button eyes and tiny hands greeting her. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and looked around again.

"Strange."

She looked down at the baby again and turned back to go into the café. One hand wandered to her necklace as she asked the waitress that has been taking her order earlier, if she had seen a young woman enter the café in the last 10 minutes. However, the waitress just shook her head, saying there had been no new guests for 30 minutes.

Y/N frowned as she thanked her and bowed shortly, then went back outside to the stroller. The baby was still lying there, making little whining noises.

She almost wanted to slap her forehead. Of course the baby hadn't suddenly grown wings so it could fly away. But Y/N was glad that no one had taken it.

"I didn't know you had a daughter."

Her body whipped around, bumping into something big and solid.

A chuckle.

“Easy there darling. No need to rush.”

She looked up, an insult already on her tongue, when she faltered. Dark brown eyes. Sandalwood.

"You?"

Jinu laughed as she looked up at him with confused eyes and glanced to the stroller.

"You remember me? Didn’t think I made such a lasting impression on you."

She pursed her lips and looked away.

"I have many customers. Of course I remember those who buy my pastries."

He tilted his head and hummed.

"You look tired."

Her head snapped up, and he quickly raised his hands in appeasement.

"You still look pretty."

His cheeks were now a light pink color, and Y/N had to fight to hide the small smile that threatened to escape her.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "Are you planning to cuddle up to me all day? Not that I'm complaining."

Y/N's eyes widened when she realized that her upper body was still pressed against his, and she quickly took a step back. Or two.

Jinu looked her up and down, and this time it was he who had to smile. "Nice rainy weather outfit."

Y/N narrowed her eyes and looked down at herself. She had put on her black rain boots, which were now making her feet sweat rather than protecting them from the wetness.

And...the dress.

Black with spaghetti straps, barely covering half of her thighs.

Y/N cleared her throat. Suddenly even the little fabric she had on, felt too hot.

"You look good for being an eomma already."

Her eyebrows furrowed before she widened her eyes.

"That's not mine. I think her mother left her here."

Now it was Jinu's turn to look confused.

"She was sitting here the whole time while I was inside with my friend, and suddenly she was gone when I came out. She didn't come back to the café either," she explained.

Jinu frowned.

"Have you called the police yet?"

Y/N sighed. Why hadn't she thought of that?

She just shook her head and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

But the police officer on the phone told her they couldn't send a patrol at the moment. An armed robbery in the city center had required all their officers. If the mother had been gone for more than 30 minutes, they should take the child to the nearest police station and call child protective services, CPS, from there.

Y/N huffed when she ended the call.

Jinu looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He had excellent hearing and could hear everything the man told her on the phone, but of course he wouldn't tell her that.

What harm was there in listening to her voice a little longer?

Y/N threw her cell phone into her purse and sighed as she looked at the now whining baby.

"Police is busy with a robbery right now. Armed and stuff. We're supposed to take her to the nearest station and then call child protective services."

Jinu hummed and nodded.

"But we have to wait another 10 minutes until half an hour is up. He said the mother might come back."

Jinu frowned and shook his head.

"The baby doesn't even look older than 3 months. Who leaves their almost newborn alone in a stroller?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. Her heart almost broke as the little girl's cries grew louder.

She tapped her foot on the sidewalk. She looked up at the sky. Watched how the birds flew around the trees.

"Screw it."

She stretched out her arms and carefully lifted the little creature out of the stroller, taking care to support her head, and laid her against her shoulder.

“You! Take my purse and the stroller. I don’t believe a bit that her mother will turn up even if we wait the whole day.”

Jinu raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

If he was being honest, he liked her bossy tone. But only if he was being honest.

He took her pink purse off her shoulder, careful not to touch her arm, and placed it in the stroller.

There was silence between them as they walked down the street. He was all too aware of the stares from passers-by. He had forgotten to pull his hood back over his head, which he had taken off when he spotted Y/N in front of the café.

He wouldn't have minded if she had a child.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the path ahead as he pushed the stroller in front of him. He didn't need to care about something like that.

He could already see the headlines in the fan magazines. Tilting his head back, he groaned silently. He didn’t want to listen to his groups lash-out tomorrow.

"So I guess you don't have any children?"

She looked up at him, and God, the way she had to crane her neck up to look at him, did something to him. He quickly looked away, but his gaze found hers again immediately.

"Nope. But I have a niece. She's 2, so not quite a baby anymore."

Jinu nodded and looked back at the road ahead. "I have—had a little sister. She was nine." He smiled painfully at the thought of her. "I was over the moon when I found out I was going to be a big brother. Unfortunately, I could never get her to be interested in my hobbies. She was always a free spirit."

Y/N smiled, and he couldn't look away when he caught it. She didn't dwell on the fact that he had spoken of his sister in the past tense, stroking the baby's back reassuringly.

She had no right to probe further.

Relief washed over her as the police station came into view.

Inside, they already knew about their arrival and immediately notified CPS. When the lady arrived, she smiled politely when she saw her before taking the baby into her arms.

"You could almost think it was yours."

She looked at the two of them and hummed a tune as she carefully placed the baby in the stroller and gave her her handbag back. She was fast asleep, tired from the morning sun and the clouds that were now gathering again.

Y/N blushed and wanted to say something, but Jinu beat her to it.

“It was good practice”, he thanked the woman.

Y/N blushed even more, stepping on his foot to make him finally shut up.

Jinu had to bite his lip.

This woman.

No, he would not steal her soul. And should anyone even try, he would banish them to depths deeper than hell.

Y/N sighed as the woman pushed the stroller out to her work vehicle and strapped the baby into an infant seat in the front passenger seat.

"What will happen to her now?"

The woman turned to her and smiled weakly. "Well, she'll probably be placed with foster parents until we find the mother or father. The mother will likely be charged with child endangerment."

She looked at the two of them one last time before getting into her vehicle.

"It's nice to know that there are still good people out there."

With that, she drove away, the child now being in safe hands.

Jinu shuddered.

Good people.

He didn't know if that applied to him. Either of those words.

"What's your name, anyway?"

The soft voice beside him woke him from his thoughts, making him look down at her standing there all squeaky on her tip toes.

"Jinu."

Y/N raised her eyebrow when he didn't say anything else.

God, he was tall. At least 6 feet, muscular through and through-

She cleared her throat.

"And what can I call you?"

She looked up at him and struggled not to lose herself in the depths of his eyes.

His voice was like a hand between her legs.

"Y/N."

Y/N.

He knew the name. Something buzzed inside him, something that had been asleep for a long time.

She cleared her throat and reached for her necklace.

"I guess it was nice to see you again, Jinu."

With that, she turned and walked down the street. Jinu stood still, the sound of his name on her tongue mesmerizing.

Y/N.

This time, she was the one to leave first.

Leaving the other speechless.

Distraught. With an incredible urge not to let the other go.

Then the headlines came.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

Thank you for reading! If you enjoy reading this, I would appreciate a like, reblog, or a comment! I love that there are more stories about the movie out now. I still have to read them all. I’m still hopeful for a second movie <3 Sorry if I forgot to tag anyone, tagging almost took longer than the actual writing ᥫ᭡.

Comment if you would like to be tagged in a potential part 3! Requests for this movie are open ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

What do you think will happen in ch.3? Vote here!

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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

Wild West

Pairing: Cowgirl!Reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Save a horse, ride a Federal Agent !

Disclaimers: VERY BAD COUNTRY ACCENT, silly horse riding, horse facts, super brief talk of a murder case. SMUT SMUT 18+ MDNI Dry humping, riding, piv sex, overstimulation, creampie, pet names, afterrcaree <3

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD ! i channeled all my angst and emo into this fic and i think the sex part is pretty good, does that make any sense ? Nope ! But did it work ? Yup !!! Anyway, COWBOY SPENCER !!!!!!

Spencer Reid never considered himself the spontaneous type, especially when it came to his free time. Preferring chess games in the parks against college students, reading in his apartment or spending his government money in libraries. He never fancied being an outdoorsy person, especially out in the sun, all that sweaty skin making his skin crawl. However that changed when a very beautiful and cute cowgirl made him an offer.

"No, I haven't seen anything down here. My cameras only catchin' some raccoons or deer, nothin' like murderers" You shrug as you lean against the fences lining the ranch, the agents nodding at your response and turning to walk away. "Hey.." you call out, specifically to the tall curly haired agent. "If you ever have any free time, feel free to stop by. My girls are nice, I promise" With a wink and soft giggles, the agents leave with one flustered and one with a shit eating grin on his face.

Stepping out of his car, the scent of horses strong in the air, it's slightly stinky but nothing horrible that you wouldn't expect. The dirt is dry and the air matches the feel, the wind blowing said dirt up. He squints from the sunlight hitting his face and he begins making his way onto the property. He stepped up on the wooden rickety porch and opened your very creaky screen door, the porch creaking in response under his weight. He doubts your home, seeming as its mid-day and you live on an equestrian farm. He figures you're most likely tending to them.

Still he knocked and waited. And when we didn't get an answer, he rightfully assumes his previous assumption was correct. He rounds your house to the back where he sees the back of your figure, tending to a beige horse. Your hands moved with such care and love and the wind blew your hair softly against your back. He hasn't even seen your face and he can already feel his chest tighten with excitement. You turn just at the right time to catch him walking about a foot away from your fence.

"Well look who it is, Doctor Reid" you tease as you walk closer to where he was standing on the other side of the fence.

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name" he's more flattered than surprised, placing his hands in his pocket.

"Well it aint often I got feds pokin and prodin around for serial killers" You tease, posting up with your hands on your hips as you both just stare at each other. Something sparking that wasn't expressed yet understood so well. You look away after a second or so "So, how about I show you around ?" He nods and enters the fence.

Hes a little wary about the horses and to combat that anxiety, he begins doing what he does best. "Did you know that horses have actually helped find several different diseases and cures, like HIV, HPV and even tumor viruses ?" He begins spewing facts about horses and ranches as he follows through the stables and around your farm.

"well aint that so ?" You reply and lean against the stable of a grulla horse, the horse poking it's head above the door and eyeing Spencer curiously. "This here is my darling angel, Rosie. She's the second horse I got when I was an older teen and she's been with me since" You introduce the horse to Spencer and pet her.

Rosie leans her head closer to Spencer, sniffing as he awkwardly greets the horse leaning back anxiously. Seeing the reaction from him, he huffs in Spencer's face and makes his hair slightly messy. You laugh at the mischievous behavior from Rosie. "I promise she's a sweetheart" you reassure him as he fixes his hair and wipes his face off.

After getting Spencer to change his converse for boots, you let him walk horses around with you before getting enough confidence and feel to actually ride them with you. Spencer tenses as the horse roams around, holding onto the horn of the saddle like it was a lifeline. You giggle as you ride next to him, telling him to relax and that Rosie won't hurt him "unless you want her to"

"I don't want her to !" Spencer responds, his tone much higher and scared than he meant it to be. You laugh at his response, turning your tobiano you were on to one side of the ranch and calling Rosie to come towards you. Hearing your call, Rosie comes prancing to you which causes Spencer to yelp and squeeze with his thighs as hard as he could out of fear of falling off. You can't help but laugh at his response, leaning forward as Spencer scolds you for laughing at him. "81% of horseback riders get injured sometimes during their life ! I have a right to be terrified !"

You roll your eyes at his geeky, anxious behavior and check the time on your watch, it's been 2 hours since you two started on the horses. "It's been 2 hours, you wanna call it ?" You ask and he responds with much glee at the suggestion. Getting off of the horse, you make quick work to get to Spencer's side to help him off the horse. It would suck if a federal agent fell off your horse and got trampled by your horse.

Back at the stables, after a nice talk and walk back, you get the horses settled into their stables. You both walk out the stable, laughing and getting to know each other slightly better. "You should've seen your face riding the horse !" You poked fun at him teasingly and he chuckled slightly embarrassed. "How was that case of yours you were with ?" You stop at the entrance when you ask him the question, crossing your arms and looking up at him.

"It went about the same as the rest of our cases, sadistic serial killer, a lot of childhood trauma that fueled a lot of his killing. Luckily we got him before he got to his 6th victim" He informs with the same glee and enthusiasm that he had with the horse facts.

You nod, pursing your lips "it's good we have handsome fellas like you protecting these lands" You smirk and raise a single brow at him. His face slightly flushes and he chuckles, stepping closer to you with his hands still in his pockets.

"You think I'm handsome ?" He asks with a low tone and you place your hands on his chest then slide them up to his shoulders. Once he feels your hands on him, he takes that as a cue to place his hands on your waist.

"I wouldn't have let just any agent on my property" you smile and he leans in, pressing his lips on yours. You reciprocate with the same slow romance before it quickly becomes rough and passionate. You both grasp and pull at each other, groaning and moaning into the kiss before you pull away and push him away softly. "Might wanna go to a spot with less eyes watching us" you tease and upon realizing what you mean, he agrees.

Not even three feet into the back door and you two are back to passion. With him, quickly undoing his buttons and you mirror his actions. You both toss the shirts in the dinning room and quickly make your way to the living room. You make quick on undoing your buckle and unzipping your pants after you push Spencer down onto your worn-in couch. Stepping out of your boots and jeans, you would've worn a matching bra and panties if you knew you would have such a wild guest but Spencer sure as hell isn't complaining. You climb onto his lap and flip your hair away from your face before going down to kiss him again.

Spencer's hands begin to develop a mind of their own as they wander the back of your body. Trailing down your back and gripping your ass, causing you to gasp into the kiss. The kiss quickly gets sloppy as you begin rocking your lips. You both pull away to release some blocked moans and groans, Spencer gripping your thighs as you dry hump him. "That's it baby" he softly praises you. You throw your head back as your hips gain speed and before you can start going even faster, his hands stop you.

You whine and lean against him, your hands trailing down his upper arms. "i need you, I wanna ride you" you softly beg practically in his ear.

"you like riding huh ?" He teases as you lean back to let him slide his jeans off just enough to reveal his boxers, and then his cock. You feel your cunt water just at the sight of it, already imagining how it's gonna feel deep inside you. You undo the clips of your bra and toss it just as you did with your shirt earlier. Spencer moans at the sight and his cock pulses against his tummy. He slides his hands from your waist up the front of your stomach to your boobs, letting his hands feel them. You mewl at the feeling, grabbing at his wrist as he massages your boobs.

"I wanna see your face as you ride me, baby" he speaks in a low tone. You bite your lip in response and sit up to move your panties to the side. Grabbing his cock, you begin to stroke it causing him to groan and throw his head back against the couch. You line him up with your entrance and connecting your lips with his, you start sitting down. As soon as you feel the stretch, you pull away and gasp out small moans. Balancing yourself with your hands on his shoulder, you slowly sink down til hes all the way inside you. You both haven't started and are already a moaning mess.

"oh my.." you gasp out, sitting still before sitting up and sinking back down. You gasp out sharp breaths and tiny moans as you start off slow. Spencer's hands grip your hips as you move up and down, matching your moans with each movement. Praises and expletives spilling out as you gain speed and as you ride him faster, the louder you both become. Thank god you don't have neighbors for hours because they won't be extremely uncomfortable and probably upset.

"Hon- ah..Honey, I'm so close- ah.." you manage between moans as you feel a heat pooling in your stomach. Spencer cups the peak of your ass as your rhythm becomes faster and almost animalistic in pursuit of your climax.

"Yea baby ? Go ahead, cum for me" He encourages and that's what pushes you to finish. You sink down, your legs shaking and your entire body heating up as you feel the wave hit you. The sweet, euphoric wave that makes your back arch and you cry out. Spencer grips your ass as you finish and squeeze around him. "Just a little more, okay ?" He softly asked before he began thrusting up into you, making you moan even louder. The overstimulation makes your mind spin and you swore you saw the pearly gates.

"Yes, Spencer ! Oh my god !" You cry out and he slams up into you, filling you. His hips shutters against you before you both collapse. You lay against him, breathing heavy as the heat wears off and your skin finally reacts to the cool ac in the room. He wraps his arms around you, checking your face. "Are you okay ?" He asks softly, through labored breathing.

"yea.." you breathe out, nodding before snuggling closer. He keeps his arms wrapped around you for only a moment before lifting your body to take himself out of you. Mixed cum dripping out of you, making you whimper as you feel it drip down onto his jeans and couch.

"i got you, it's okay" he softly comforts you before laying you down next to him, he tucks himself in his jeans and stands up. "Let me clean you up" he pecks your lips before hurrying off to your kitchen. Yup, this isn't gonna be the only time this hot ass fed rides your horses and there's definitely gonna be even more riding later on.

Masterlist

[kiwi-on-ice]

can u do 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 lifeweaver x gn!reader ? i found u on tiktok and i loved ur lifeweaver slides!

Favourite positions headcannons with Lifeweaver, Cole Cassidy, Ramattra, Lucio, Genji and Reinhardt with gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: 18+ smut, reader is implied to have a pussy (or at least be a bottom lmao), dom/sub dynamics and degradation present in Ramattra’s.

Notes: just wanted to do a quick post to say thank you all so much for nearly 300 followers! I’m grateful for you all xx

Lifeweaver:

Oh this is a certified lover boy right here. Best believe he wants a position where he can see your face, where most of your body is exposed to his gaze.

That’s why missionary is always his go to, he’s able to thrust into you while keeping a hand on your cheek to ensure your pretty eyes are on him. So he can gaze down at you lovingly and watch your facial expression as you react to every movement.

It also gives him the ability to pinch and play with your nipples, smiling at the sounds that escape your throat as he lavishes you in praise.

But his absolute favourite thing to do in this position is fold you over yourself, knees pressed to your chin so he can slam into you in a mating press, letting you feel him all the way in your guts.

Because he’s so big, he dwarfs you and ensures all you can think about is him, all you can focus on is his cock thrusting in and out of you rapidly. Loves to kiss you in that position, mumbling against your hips how good you take him, how much he wants to fill you up with his cum for being so so good for him. But before he does that you’ll have to cum first.

Apart from that, any position where he has you in front of a mirror is perfect for him. He’ll set you on his lap so he can play and toy with your body, telling you intricate praises and compliments. If you’re a self conscious person, he’ll make you repeat them back to him while keeping your eyes on the mirror as he brings you over the edge again and again.

Alternatively, he might not even fuck you at all, perfectly content with you sitting on his face as he gives you the pleasure he knows you deserve.

Cole Cassidy:

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

He loves it if you ride him, the sight of you moving up and down on his lap. The sight of every angle of your body being on show for him to watch. The sight of his cock disappearing into your hole with every bounce.

Doesn’t care if it makes him look lazy, he’ll just lay back into the pillows, one hand stroking your hip while the other puffs the cigar in his mouth, occasionally offering it to you.

Now if you really want him to go feral, take his cowboy hat off and put it on yourself. You’ll feel him throb inside you as she growls, teasing you about it as he starts to thrust up inside you.

Now he’s an ass man, so when he isn’t gripping your ass while you ride him, he’s gripping and slapping your ass while he takes you from behind, another favourite of his.

Just loves to see it ripple with every thrust, and how you squeak or moan when he spanks you. Depending on the day he’s had, he’ll pump into you in methodical strokes while teasing you, or he’ll fuck into you hard and fast, chasing his pleasure.

Don’t be surprised if he’s puffing his cigar in that position too, the scent filling your nostrils before you even realised he’d lit it, too preoccupied by how deep he reaches as he forces your back to arch.

Ramattra:

Yeah he also likes doggy style, for more…dominating reasons.

Will love to push your head into the mattress, pounding into you while he mocks you for being so pathetic, so desperate to be filled that you’d let a dangerous omnic fuck you and toy with you just so you could find release.

He’d pull your hair, making your back arch for him as he railed you. Just loves to see how pliable your body is when he has you like this, and the noises that fall from your throat. Will also spank you to elicit similar noises, and best believe you’ll have a handprint on your ass to prove it.

And he could even pick you up in that position, moving you into a full nelson as your body jolts with each punishing thrust upwards.

Alternatively, he likes fucking you against the wall. Displays his sheer strength as he can just manhandle you to a position of his liking, you legs dangling pathetically as he has his way with you.

Although he loves fucking you while you’re facing him in that position, your legs wrapped around his waist as he holds you steady against the wall with his hands on your hips and ass. He won’t want to admit it, but it makes his internal fans whirl louder when he sees you face in ecstasy as you gaze up at him longingly.

However if you’ve been a brat, then you clearly don’t deserve the cock he graciously had fitted just to please you, so he’ll love to watch you hump his leg instead as he sits proud in his chair, legs spread. If you please him enough he might let you sit on his lap and hump his thigh instead. And if you please him just right, if your begs and grovelling are to his satisfaction, he may even let you sink down on him and ride him till he short circuits.

Lucio:

My sweet baby, he’s such a romantic!!! His favourite would definitely be missionary, you guys are just so close like that.

He’ll be holding your hand like a lifeline, gentle and measured strokes inside you as he rests his forehead against yours. Would love to feel all your little gasps against his lips, feeling your chests so close, his thumb soothingly running over the back of your hand. He’s always got you <3

However every man has needs, and Lucio is no different. So if you ask to ride him, he definitely isn’t gonna say no. It’ll be the positon he’s the most vocal in for sure, whines and grunts tumbling out his lips as you use his dick to get off.

He’ll be grabbing everywhere and anywhere, needing to feel useful as you make his eyes roll back with pleasure. Grabbing handfuls of your ass or hips or chest or thighs. Anywhere.

If you hold his hands in this position his hips will twitch, breath shaky as he pleads with you to let him fuck up into you. The whines will just tumble from his mouth, the grip on your hands tight, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing shorts…please let him hit it from the back. His favourite if you’re having a quickie before his show, pushing into you fast as you bend over his dressing table and present yourself for him. Or even against the door if you’re brave enough, both of you struggling to be quiet as his manager knocks on the wood and tells your boyfriend he’s due on stage in 5 minutes.

Genji:

Another man who loves you riding him. After becoming mostly cybernetic, he’s hyper aware of his own strength, as well as the way he looks now. You being on top allows him to peace of mind that he isn’t gonna accidentally hurt you, or crush you.

But also my god he loves watching the show. The way your hips move and circle to get the most pleasure, your hand gripping at his metal chest to steady yourself, the look on your face as the sensations build and build inside of you. He’ll instinctively go to hold your hips, perhaps accidentally holding that bit too tight so it leaves bruises.

But that position is perfect for praising him, telling him how good he feels, how beautiful you think he is. That’ll really make him whimper, audible over the soft plap of your thighs against him. Instinctively he’ll buck up at the praise, driving his cock deep inside you as he whines in embarrassment and pleasure at your complimentary words.

Hold his hands too, regardless of position he’d like for you to hold on to his hand or arms, makes him feel like you trust him, that you look to him for a source of comfort and security. He might even place something cozy and fuzzy on so you have a gentle fabric to hold.

Reinhardt:

Missionary, a classic position for a classic man. Loves how small you look under him, how his big arms practically dwarf your head as he braces himself above you. Sure he’s no spring chicken anymore, but he can still fuck you the way a pretty thing like you deserve.

And if you teasingly imply he can’t fuck you for too long, or suggest you can get on top instead? Well, that’s pretty much the only time his gentlemanly facade will crack, as he drives into you at a pace most young men wouldn’t dream of; his big cock filling you up so completely that your eyes will be rolling.

But most times he’s the epitome of a gentle giant, gently kissing you as he rocks slowly in and out of your smaller body, his beard gently tickling your neck and shoulder as he leaves small love bites on your skin.

But listen, if you’re with him you’re gonna most likely have a thing for his size and strength. So he will definitely pick you up while you guys are fucking if that’s what his sweetheart wants. With a firm grip on your hips he’ll encourage you to wrap your thighs around him so he can fuck you against the wall, your head against his scarred chest.

In that position, you’ll hear the rumbling in his chest as he moans, telling you how good you are, how stunning you are in his arms; it’s like you belong there. And if you’re fucking him after a mission, he’ll ramble about how he’s always gonna protect you, that it’s his duty to keep you safe and content as you cum around his big cock.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tin Soldier

Gwayne returns from Rook's Rest to King's Landing where his wife has been patiently waiting for him, knowing he would need stress relief.

Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, pwp idk what to tell you, ok nvm porn with feelings, gwaynes BRATTY, smut (piv, bdsm, pet play??, biting, marking, scratching), fluff can you believe that, typos, etc.

A/N: inspired by this post. i wish @barbieaemond and @targs-on-zorses a very much i hope you suffer

"Oh, praise the gods," I mutter under my breath once I spot the two knights entering through gates of the Keep. I dismiss my handmaiden and head towards them.

Gwayne and Criston spot me, the former's hardened face softens. I offer them a smile and clasp my hands, "very good. The Mother has delivered you whole." I nod in regard, "ser Criston."

The said man nods, "my-"

"You would greet another man before your husband, woman?"

I turn to Gwayne. His jaw clenches. I hold back a grin and pucker my lower lip instead, "I only wished to thank the Hand for returning my love to me with no missing limbs."

He scoffs. His horse trots in place. Gwayne does not enjoy that. He very much did not enjoy that.

"I should thank your husband for doing the same for me, my lady," Criston replies, making me turn back to him.

I smile. Gwayne dismounts. "Then I rejoice in knowing you both will return safely so long as you have each other."

A stable boy comes to get my husband's ride. He spares me no glance when he walks passed me. I turn to my feet with a chuckle, rubbing my belly that bubbled in excitement, "welcome home, ser." We share a nod before I chase after my lord.

He is walking incredibly fast.

I gather my skirts, "my lord!"

Gwayne does not stop. He only continues to storm to our shared chambers. When he reaches the stairs, I break into a sprint, laughing as I did, "lord husband!"

Needless to say, my calls fall deaf on his ears. I have to catch my breath once I enter the room.

"RETURN ME?!"

I close the door behind me, eyes not leaving my armored lover as he paces around the room. My breath hitches at the sight of him. Oh, how I missed the clanking of his steel uniform.

Gwayne turns back to me, pointing a harsh finger to the ground, "WOULD THAT I BE THE ONE RETURNED-

My eyes sparkle at his vexed expression.

"OH! IF YOU ONLY KNEW HOW COLE WAS-"

I reach for his breastplate, "twas a jest."

"Well, you jest wrongly," he glares, swatting my hands away. I press my lips together to suppress my smile. He charges towards the vanity, "you now not how insufferable that Dornishman is."

He begins to undo the cuffs on his forearm. Oh, by the Seven, he was actually upset. He never removed his own armor, not when I was present. I sigh, "Gwayne-"

"Do not-" he pulls roughly on his sleeve "-address me, woman."

I purse my lips and grab his shoulder plate. He shrugs me off dramatically and I reel back in momentary shock, only to huff and grab him by his steely collar.

He glares at me.

I raise my brows, mouth opening to start a new argument. But his face, marked with hurt, though dramatic, makes my heart tinge. I decide not to pursue it.

He recognizes this and lifts his nose. His brows quirk in challenge.

I tilt my head and sigh, "begging your pardon, my lord," I brush my hands down to the sigil on his heart, "tis distasteful to speak on matters I know not of."

Gwayne stares at me for a moment. I peer at him through my lashes, absentmindedly drawing shapes on his chest, "I submit. I wish not to quarrel."

He does not reply, but he visibly relaxes, save for the way his brows knit, "my lips."

My eyes fall to his mouth where a cut laid on the bottom corner, "yes. You've been cut." I pull away to grab some ointment for it, "we shall treat your lip again after your bath."

He watches as I go through the vials on the table. Just as I open the lid of the salve, I feel his rigid body press against my back. I look over my shoulder, gazing up at his face as he embraces me.

"You have not kissed them," he mutters, "you insult me twice, wife."

Oh, what darling. I pretend to think, "I thought I was woman."

"Wrong again," he takes the vial from me, setting it down with little attention. He turns me around and traps me against the vanity, "my woman."

He wastes no more time keeping our lips separate. Gwayne picks me by the waist and sits me on the table as his lips reacquaint themselves with mine. My body melts against him, my legs part to welcome him between and my hands sneak their way into his nape.

He pulls away, "damn this helmet."

I giggle but stop him when he tries to rid himself of it. He raises a brow then sighs, "not again."

"What?" I laugh innocently, "it suits you well."

He shakes his head but makes no further move to rid himself of his steel hat. He does however begin to bunch my skirts up. I mumble, "my tin soldier."

He groans. "Perhaps I'll fuck you in my helmet, vixen," he wraps my legs around him, "see how you like it."

I gleefully retort, "so long as you fuck me, ser-" he begins to kiss my neck, "I will be- OH!"

Gwayne sharply pulls away, face concerned.

I cover my mouth with my hands, "I'd nearly forgotten!"

He can do nothing but watch as I wrangle out of our position and shoo him away. He grumbles as I go through a drawer, "I got you a gift."

"Must you give it to me now?"

I laugh and turn back to him once I have it in my hand, "I find you will regret it if I do not give it to you sooner."

His brow quirks in interest.

I grin and motion with my head, "to the bed with you."

Gwayne is sat on the side of the bed in an instant. He eagerly looks at me. I saunter over with a look of mischief. His eyes widen when I kneel by his feet. At this point, he knew exactly what my surprise was and he simply reaches a hand out to me.

I place a bell in his palm. Gwayne releases a deep breath that breaks into an excited chuckle, "oh, my girl, you might regret this."

I simply look at him with a smile.

He stares at me, knowing then that our game had started. His lips part infinitesimally as he basks in the power he now had. He rings the bell, "you may speak your mind, pet."

"Thank you, ser."

Gwayne rings it again, "get me out of this fucking armor."

"Yes, ser," I say, coming to my feet to undo his top. I feel his eyes on me as I do so.

He releases a breath, hands coming to my side, "I have free rein on your body, do I not?"

"Of course, ser."

"Mmm," he rubs my ass then smacks it, "strip for me," he rings the bell.

I turn to him, "after I-"

"Now," he blurts.

I pull away from him and begin to undo the ties of my dress. It is a slight struggle but not impossible. Once my dress drops to the floor and I'm left in my shift, he rings his bell, "stop."

I still where I stand.

"And your smallclothes," he rings.

I oblige, pulling them and letting them drop to the floor. He reaches a hand out, ringing again, "come to me."

I take his hand and he spreads his legs. I sit on his lap and he rings, "you may proceed, pet."

I continue to undo his armor, "of course, ser."

Ring. "Kiss me as you do so."

I do not speak, only follow the command. I kiss him intermittently as I finally remove a shoulder plate. It is considerably harder to do than undoing my dress because of all the latches. I decide to prioritize undressing him, but it seems that was a mistake.

He snakes his hand up my skirt and squeezes my inner thigh, "my lips are wanting yours, pet."

"I am doing my best, se-"

"Well, try harder."

Gwayne thoroughly enjoys my struggle and unabashedly complains when I am not kissing him. I begin to grow increasingly frustrated when I prioritize kissing him yet finds it in him to complain about how hot his armor is. At some point, I begin throwing the metal I do get off him angrily to the ground.

His chuckle is deep, "careful, pet. That is your lord's armor."

"Fuck your armor," I grunt, chucking his cuffs to the floor.

He laughs and licks his lips.

"I was given permission to speak my mind, was I not? I mutter, sliding off his lap to undo the cuffs on his legs.

"I did not give you leave to leave my lap," he stares at me.

I glare at him and sit back down. He examines me for a moment, rings his bell, and chirps, "get off."

I sigh and stand.

"Uh-ta-ta-ta-ta," he grabs my arm and raises a finger. He looks up at me, shrugging, "what do we say?"

I suck in a breath and force a smile, "of course, ser. Thank you, ser."

"Good," he raises the bell before ringing it, "proceed."

I drop to my knees and continue to rid him of his wretched armor. He brushes my hair back and rubs my lips, "indeed again, you you are not kissing me."

I huff, looking up at him. His eyes sparkle as I say, "a thousand apologies, ser." I attempt to do the impossible, kissing him while undoing the cuffs on his shins. Amazingly, I eventually complete the task and do so with another huff.

Gwayne rings his bell and knocks on his helmet, "you missed one, pet."

I sit on his lap and place my hands on his shoulders. He watches me as I frown. I look at him pleadingly but he allows me no satisfaction. I have no choice but to take his helmet off. He snakes an arm around me, "hard, that one, was it?"

I place his helmet on the night stand and kiss him, "I wish to please my lord."

He smirks, "then shall you be rewarded." He carelessly chucks the bell behind him, causing me gasp, "Gwayne!"

"I enjoyed our little game but find I no longer have the patience for it," he grabs my thighs and turns me on him.

"That's why we keep losing the bell, you keep throwing it!"

"Fuck the bell," he quips, making me straddle him, "I want to fuck my wife."

The next thing I know, my dress is being ripped off and he's hastily undoing his breeches. I cannot help my laugh as I shift atop him to free himself, and once he is, I grind on his hardened cock, making him grit his teeth. I bask in the feel of him after removing his shirt. By the gods, how I've missed the feel of his chest on my palms.

He allows me to dote on his scars and freckles. I could weep at his beauty. He then sinks his head into the crook of my neck and I wrap my arms around him.

"My wife," he licks a stripe to my jaw, "I dream about your skin."

I brush my fingers up his hair and tug gently, "Gwyane."

"I miss your taste," he mutters in between kisses. He tightens his hold on me, "I miss your taste, miss your skin, miss your lips, my love," he rakes his fingers up my back, "did you miss me?"

I moan as I sink myself down on him. He squeezes my shoulders and drops his jaw.

I grab his cheeks and press our foreheads together, "missed you so much— missed your touch, missed having you inside me, missed your smart mouth."

He chuckles and kisses me, "missed yours." Gwayne begins to buck into me, arms tight around my waist.

I grunt and bring his face into my chest, throwing my head back as I ride him. He sucks on my skin, intent to leave evidence of him on me. I tangle my fingers into his hair then pepper kisses on his forehead. He smelled of sweat and dirt and ash; I relish every bit of him.

I whimper when he sinks his teeth into the side of my throat before suckling. I clench around him in response. I pull his hair and speak his name. He replies with a moan, grazing me with his teeth once more.

My riding becomes harder. The sound of our breath and the utterance of each other's names mingle with the creak of the bed and the wet sound of slapping skin. He grabs my hips, flesh spilling between his fingers, and bites his nails into me. He huffs, guiding me into faster and rougher pace.

I lean my forehead on his once more, darting my tongue to his lips. He chases my tongue, catching it between his teeth, then does the same to my lips. I whimper when I taste blood. He licks the iron off and trails kisses to my ear, "come on my cock, baby, want you to come with me."

I whimper out and nod, "Gwayne."

"Come on," he mutters, "come, my love."

Pressure builds inside me, and we soon both grow erratic. There is a thick silence before guttural cries reverberate through the room. My body comes alive. The thick, hot, pleasure is so intense my breath is knocked out of my lungs and I quickly feel myself seize up.

My husband, ever dutiful, sinks his nails into my thighs and fucks out every last bit of the melting sensation from the both of us. A hoarse noise rips from my throat and makes my toes curl into my soles. Gwayne even overcompensates and plows into me until I'm reeling. I knew it was too much for him too, and so I supply him with the shaky whimpers I knew he desperately craves.

I feel lightheaded by the time he stops. He rests his head on me before finally collapsing on his back, taking me down with him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, our skin now sticky with sweat.

His hands rest on my thighs. I bring mine to both his shoulders. I pant against his jaw, "that was intense."

He hums, "well," he huffs, "you missed me too much."

"No," I nuzzle into his neck and draw shapes on his skin, "you missed me too much."

He brushes his nose against my head, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I didn't miss you at all."

"Good. I didn't miss you either."

He rubs my skin, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Out of nowhere, he whines in a high pitched voice, "OH Gwayne- OH! You feel so gOOD- AH AH-"

I swat him and with a dropped jaw. I lift my head and glare at him, "I did NOT say that!"

Gwayne's eyes fall on me, lips pursing. He brings one arm behind his head and takes the other to my cheek. My belly flutters at the sight of him. He was beautiful like this, shining after our love making. His rough thumb rubs my face, "pity." He brushes my hair back, "I'm going to have to fix that."

I roll my eyes at him but I am unable to fight back my smile.

He smiles back. His eyes soften and his voice is careful, "... did you miss me, my love?"

"Gods," I nearly roll my eyes at the back of my head, "oh, my sweet boy. My sweet pathetic boy who I so terribly missed."

He grins. The lines by on his cheeks only deepen when he laughs.

My stomach rolls again. I speak in earnest, capturing his cheek, "every day, I thank the Seven that I bask in your beauty."

Gwayne's eyes rove over me. He rubs my arm, "we should have another babe."

I scoff, "Gwayne-"

[marsprincess889]

Yoni animal observations

I did something similar with nakshatras. This is them in a very simple way. This is based on traditional associations as well as my own observations of real life and art. 💕 The word "yoni", as well as meaning the female reproductive organ, also means "origin". Yoni animal represents the instinct of the nakshatra and ultimately, reveals its true core nature.

Also, disclaimer: it's very sad that I have to say this, and apologies if you're not one of those people, but if you're going to correct anything in this post by writing one or more long paragraphs of why you think I'm wrong, you might as well just start your own blog or make your own post about the subject. I've been observing yoni animals for years and I'm kind of sorry if any of this offends you, but I'm not trying to attack anyone personally, or even a specific placement (nakshatras in this case), cause that's just dumb. Of course, everyone is free to express their opinions but please do it politely and have some respect for the person who took their time to gain and share knowledge. It's very easy to correct others, it's very hard to be faultless yourself. So, factual corrections are always welcome(say someone got someone's chart placement wrong, or they have written a factually incorrect association, like if they were to write that Jyeshta is fierce as opposed to sharp/cruel in nature.), but, once again, everyone's view is different and so either respect mine or don't write anything at all.

With that being said, you can now enjoy this post💕

Horse yonis

Ashwini and Shatabhisha

Keywords: activity, simplicity, masculinity(solar/yang), independence, healing.

Straightforward people. They might tend to have black and white thinking, can be very blunt with their delivery and definitely prone to "deafness": not hearing others' views. Simple and utilitarian, goal-oriented. Their presence might not be really noticed until the moment they suddenly speak up about or act on something. Love to point stuff out. Either quiet or very precise while speaking. Not aggressive but can be combative. Most likely will oppose someone before making peace. Independence>sharing. Don't like anything "unnecessary", love to get to the point.

Elephant yonis

Bharani and Revati

Keywords: slow, authority, time, timelessness, strength, transitions, protection, completion, gentleness, complexity, depth.

Not revealing their innermost selves, only revealing it to a select group of people, if to anyone. They attach meaning to things based on their experiences. Protective and gentle with each other, closed off to most of the others. Very private. Not really concerned with trends. Observant but not quick to act. Can have many sides to them that some others might fail to understand. Have an air of wisdom, but not that of arrogance. Still, they are the most likely to knowingly take the high road but still protect their peace, making them very exclusive, although it's never for show. Defensive but quietly so. Accomodating to some degree on the outside, there's always more to them than what's obvious. See the bigger picture in every situation. They have a certain quiet strength and power. Nurture is important to them. Do not appreciate unnecessary aggression and try to dominate over anything they consider harsh/crude.

Sheep yonis

Krittika and Pushya

Keywords: precision, structure, minimalism, choosiness, contained.

Do not like excess in anything. They have a sense of balance, usually in almost everything. Prioritize sctructure and basics/essentials. Like clarity and clear-cut lines in their lives and around them. Can be snappy, but in a passive-aggressive way. Not harsh in a heavy/overwhelming way but still harsh about details. Have a soft demeanor with strangers and acquaintances, sometimes even people close to them in everyday life but can judge them quietly. Neutral to friendly on the outside, but if they have uncomfortable emotions they try hard to release them quietly/without much fuss. Might bottle up resentment in result. Very utilitarian and practical.

Snake yonis

Rohini and Mrigashira

Keywords: enjoyment, ease, materialism, basic awareness, growth, progress, sensory indulgence, instincts.

Very placid and calm. They focus mainly on material things but can live without luxuries, and can also share them, although privacy is very important to them. Very aware of their surroundings and their own presence. Attuned to their senses. Can get easily attached to people and things. Can exhibit selfish tendencies(or that's how it looks to others) when they feel like their desires are ignored, but Rohini and Mrigashira each do it differently.

Dog yonis

Ardra and Mula

Keywords: upheaval, critical point, rebelling, release, change, anchoring.

Tense but not frail. Might look tortured sometimes. Do not like to and probably even cannot focus on details, at least not how it's traditionally done(different to each situation). Like to display their individuality in one way or another. Dark humor or sassy comebacks. Either quiet or very loud, but either way, opinionated. If they're neutral then they're opinionated about being neutral. Can be kind of nihilistic but at peace with it. Contrarian and unapologetic. If they don't care about something you can't make them care. If they do care, they care intensely.

Cat yonis

Punarvasu and Ashlesha

Keywords: accumulation, buildup, purity, safety, protection, preservation, cycles.

Concerned with what influences them, not so much what they put out. Self-focused but also highly aware of others' needs. Can adapt to surroundings and can change their behavior based on what they need or really want. Not unkind but laser-focused on the boundaries. Always keep their cards close to their chest, not out of malice but simply to preserve their safety. Look more unnaproachable than they really are, and know more than they share with most.

Rat yonis

Magha and Purva Phalguni

Keywords: dispersion, creativity, planting seeds, the self.

Can be egocentric. Prideful and nonchalant. Love to show off. Might be aware of surroundings to some degree but even if they are, they rarely care. Getting what they want is the priority, along with self-expression. Not very moralistic, don't care much about labels. Sometimes they can be too detached. Will almost never catch them crying in front of others, although they can be dramatic if they want and can, without a problem, attract their dwsired attention. Their happiness is more warm and generous than loud and euphoric. Might have a poker face, they rarely show strong emotions. The strongest emotion I've seen them express is that of defensiveness, and that's not even an emotion. When they get defensive it's almost always because something has touched their pride or triggered their ego. Focused on what they can do.

Cow yonis

Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Bhadrapada

Keywords: stability, the long-term results, natural, softness, power/influence, unity, calm.

Stubborn. That's the only defense they have, because otherwise they're very soft. Naturally honest. They have an effortlessness about them that feels easy to be around, and they are pleasant to be around but not accepting of everyone. They avoid people they don't like from early on and stick to the ones they consider better. Not hesitant to defend themselves or people close to them, but not quick to waste that energy on just anyone, and when they do become defensive they still maintain "the high ground". Backing their allies and fighting proudly is natural for them. Again, very stubborn, so they rarely, if ever, give up on something important. Although they're tough, they're not sharp or cruel. They are mostly in a state calmness and assuredness rather than anxious defensiveness. Very fixed and comfortable in their ways.

Buffalo yonis

Hasta and Swati

Keywords: materialism, gain, comfort, strength, feminine(yin), ease.

More attached to material things than other yonis. Individuality is defined through connections and surroundings. Love comfort and ease. Interdependence>independence. Can be curiously neutral and accomodating. Self-focused but not selfish. Often phlegmatic and slow. Genuinely caring but can be cunning. Not the most direct people. They will let others know their views but won't push them aggressively on others. Almost everything about them is filtered through that neutrality.

Tiger yonis

Chitra and Vishakha

Keywords: building, gradual, defensive, expression, buildup.

The most defensive. Can look sweet on the outside but are not all soft. Can range from extremely forgiving to extremely vengeful. Aggression comes out while speaking. Rarely, if ever, present in a state of calm melancholy. They moreso go from happy/fun to agitated. Focused on development/building, and always look for more than what's natural for them. Witty but emotionally so. If they're highly agitated, it's very hard for them to exercise restraint in the moment. Not that direct in general but unfiltered during critical moments. It's easy for them to put on a mask, whether out of neccessity or just for fun. Can be very judgemental. If they're not aware, it can make them act in a "mean" way when they feel not their best.

Rabbit/Deer yonis

Anuradha and Jyeshta

Keywords: society, organization, status quo, responsibility, transpersonal, maturing.

Very non-aggressive on the inside, despite how they might look. Naturally have endurance and a sense of responsibility. Can be judgemental but also understanding. Love to give advice. Competitive but respectful. Can become arrogant. Love everything "classic" but want to establish their own, new structures. Choosy and sometimes exclusive. More warm than they appear, and capable of more emotions than how it seems. Often traditionally intelligent. Have a very civilized behavior.

Vanar yonis

Purva Ashadha and Shravana

Keywords: flow, alliances, connections, support, creation and preservation.

Good at reading between the lines, anything too structured is harsh for them. Otherworldly aura/mannerisms. Most likely to posses what others might consider as "quirks". Value their own individuality and uniqueness. Seeks to be different from what they consider boring, normal or basic. Not very reactive. When they get defensive, they get quiet. Can romatisize sadness and melancholy. Capable of seeing both sides but are often willingly biased.

Mongoose yoni

Uttara Ashadha

Keywords: independence, solitude, practicality, victory.

Truly neutral and unbothered. Value honesty and integrity. Not attached to material things at all. Easy to be around but their regal nature might put some people ill at ease. Naturally take on leadership positions. Might feel lonely but won't trade solitude for tiring/uninteresting company. Value practicality and simplicity, and are practical themselves. Surprsingly warm and feeling in certain moments, but can also be uncaring towards others.

Lion yonis

Dhanishta and Purva Bhadrapada

Keywords: notoriety, flashiness, power, aggression, pride.

Very unfiltered and loudly so. Unashamed and bold, proud. That pride and confidence fuels their calmness, but they can lack patience. In everyday interactions they can look very unreactive but if something "triggers" them, they will not hesitate to be a little(or not so little) aggressive. Love to spread their influence. Might strongly dislike anything that looks subtle and quiet to them, as it arises distrust in them. Rarely, if ever, use/appreciate sarcasm. They prefer directness. Can slip into being a bully, or can become a proud voice for others.

[i-love-ptv]

Teach Me ─★•♛•★─

Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Girlfriend!Reader

Surfing’s all you’ve known since you were young, so of course you’re going to spread the love with your darling boyfriend. It’s a harmless, family friendly activity, what could possibly happen?

Wc: 2,506

SMUTTT!! —Exhibitionism? (They fuck on a beach but nobody else is there) P in V, unprotected sex, no pulling out (SORRYYY) Porn w/ plot

An: GUYSSSS I was on my mf GRIND to get this out for yall!!!! I’m so excited I love it, I’m planning to (hopefully) post a few more fics w Rafe n pogue reader (baby’s name is Buttercup!!)

Feedback is always welcomed and encouraged! xx

“I can’t believe you got me out here, babe.” Rafe groans playfully; his chest rises as he laughs.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” You drag out, your hand resting on his bicep as you walk backwards while facing him.

Your flip-flops slap against your feet in the sand, your hand reaches up, pulling the strap of the heavy beach bag up onto your shoulder again. Rafe’s holding two surfboards; freshly waxed, and one a tad bigger than the other.

It’s rather early— well, not sunrise, but not afternoon. You figured it’d be best to go to the beach around this time, the waves wouldn’t be as high on this breezy morning, so you can finally teach Rafe how to surf.

Your love for surfing emerged when you moved to Kildare; you had met a boy back in elementary school. He was always sporting a backwards cap, his golden hair always peaking out at you.

Turns out, his name was Jackson, JJ for short, and he befriended you almost immediately. Once you both found out that the two of you lived close by, every day was spent together, alongside his best friend John B.

They both taught you how to surf, it took a few months to get the hook of it but that’s besides the point.

…It also doesn’t help that your “teachers” were third (soon to be fourth) graders. How did they even know how to surf? Who knows.

You’ve been surfing longer than you haven't, which is why you vowed to get your boyfriend of two years to join you just one time.

You abruptly stop, making Rafe’s hard chest bump into your back.

“Jesus, babe-“

“Stop! This is the perfect spot.” You stare off into the glistening water, ignoring the look of disbelief on Rafe’s face. He mumbles a few words under his breath half-heartedly, but you don’t seem to care.

You begin to sit everything down, laying the hot pink beach blanket down on the sand. Rafe’s standing there rather awkwardly, waiting for your eventual command.

You turn around, sunblock in hand, “…Y’know you can sit those down, right?” You look him up and down with a questioning look on your face, your tone making his cheeks flush.

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Rafe says with a cough. “I was just uh—pumping these babies, y’know? Maintaining my physique since someone won’t let me go to the gym today.” You roll your eyes at the sight of Rafe (poorly) using the surfboards as if they were dumbbells to do bicep curls.

“Uh-huh. Put those down so I can put your sunblock on.” You look at Rafe expectantly, hand on your hip and all. If it weren’t for your ridiculous remark, Rafe would’ve smirked at your attitude.

“I don’t need sunblock, Buttercup,” Rafe says with a scoff.

Your stance doesn’t change, and your expression doesn’t falter in the slightest. Rafe knows you won’t budge, and you’ll most likely (you will) stand here all day until he gets off his high-horse. So he sighs, and reluctantly steps forward into your arms, making you grin.

You put the sunblock on your hands, rubbing them together before leaving a small smack to Rafe’s face. “Quit it,” Rafe hisses due to the coldness, grabbing your wrists before they could continue to rub his face.

You giggle madly, “Hurry up, let me put this on!” Rafe’s pushing your hands away from his face, while you’re pushing them towards him.

You go back and forth for a little bit with smitten smiles sticking, before Rafe finally allows you to continue.

After maybe fifteen minutes, you both are fully covered, and you swear you can already feel the sun’s rays reflecting off of you.

“Alright, c’mon you big lug,” you tease, pulling him towards the water.

“You’ve been practicing how to pop-up like I showed you, right? Cause it’s even harder to do it on water compared to doing it on land.” You question, looking up at him.

“Yes, mom, I did the homework you assigned me.” Rafe rolls his eyes; he may just be the sassiest guy you know.

You side-eye him, not really believing his remarks. “Oh yeah? Lemme see, right here.”

“Actually, can you give me a demonstration? Y’know, in the water..” Rafe trails off.

“Thought you had it down. sweetheart?” You purse your lips at him. “Yeah, obviously I do. I just need to see it all together. I’m a visual learner, Buttercup.” Rafe flirts, but it completely goes over your head, you’re entirely too excited to surf to even realize.

“Okay, just pay attention real closely, Ray.” You grin at the light brown-haired boy. If Rafe didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was Christmas day with the way your eyes were lit up. It almost made Rafe feel bad for the sinful thoughts plaguing his mind.

Almost.

You turn towards the water, walking away from your boyfriend, and his bright eyes roam across your body.

The way that your swimsuit hugged your body nearly made him drool. He swore he nearly cried when you said you’d be wearing a one-piece because it’s easier to surf in, but god is he glad to see it. Your ass peaks out more and more as you walk, and if Rafe doesn’t cool it with the day-dreaming, he’ll be sporting a boner. And that’ll ruin his plan entirely if you saw it.

What is Rafe’s plan, you ask? It’s quite simple really. You see, Rafe honestly didn’t give a shit about surfing. It wasn’t his thing, golf and basketball were. But he couldn’t deny you: his sweet angel, trying to indulge in your favorite activity since you were a child.

Rafe knew that you’ll just be the one surfing all day, while he merely observed. Some may call it perverted, and maybe he is a bit, but Rafe can’t help but want to watch you: wearing little clothing, and soaking wet.

Rafe sees you up on your surfboard, and you look nothing short of ethereal. The sun glistened off your body perfectly, your hair that was once up, now starts to limp down, but Rafe doesn’t mind—not at all, he can’t when you’re on top of that board as gracefully as you are.

The waves flow around you effortlessly, the ripples make your form sway, but you don’t falter even for a second; you never do under any circumstance, and Rafe thinks that’s his favorite thing about you.

You cheer and put your hands up wildly as you ride the white water to the shore. “Did you see me babe? That shit was sick right?!” You exclaim while running towards him, your board long-gone in the damp sand.

Rafe stands up immediately, allowing you to jump into his muscular arms. “Of course I did, baby! You’re amazing.” Rafe speaks softly, he then presses a kiss to your forehead, squeezing you closer to his broad, firm chest.

Before you can get another word in, Rafe’s kissing you deeply; his arms hold you tightly, not allowing your feet to touch the ground.

You place your hands on his face, guiding his lips astray from yours, and he tries to chase them, but he’s unsuccessful. “It’s your turn, Ray.” You whisper, peering at him with your widely-blown eyes.

“Later, angel.” He murmurs, leaning back into you.

His fingers dance across your skin, and you can feel the hunger behind the kiss; you meet him with just as much fever.

You knew of Rafe’s game as soon as you stepped into the car this morning, he was far too enthusiastic about the idea compared to his moans and complaints the night prior when you brought it up.

You weren’t that oblivious to the sneaky glances he threw your way, and his blatant staring at your covered up swimsuit. One day, Rafe will understand just how much you let him get away with.

But for right now, you let him gently lay you down onto the blanket as he kneels into the sand. You let him trail his kisses from your coconut chapstick-covered salty lips down your neck. You’re so glad nobody’s here.

Rafe’s suckling at your neck, no doubt leaving dark hickies on your skin. You both moan in unison.

You grab onto Rafe’s meaty shoulders, leaving crescent shaped marks on his rosy skin. You bite your lip as he continues to go further down your body, he now resides at your cleavage.

“I knew what you were doing the whole time, y’know that, Ray?” You let out an airy chuckle, alongside a breath that was begging to be pushed out.

“Yeah? That means you wanted me just as bad, huh Buttercup?” Rafe whispers cockily, you physically feel his smirk as he starts to nibble on your ear hotly.

“‘F course…Always want you, baby.” You giggle sweetly in his ear. You can feel Rafe’s boner prodding at your stomach, and it only makes you wetter.

“How about I teach you something, hm? How does that sound sweetheart?” Rafe’s now grinding down on your clothed core, your hand finds the back of his neck, your fingers apply the right amount of pressure that gets Rafe going.

“You can do whatever you want with me.” You whisper, as Rafe begins to pull your bathing suit down; the wet material now resting below your belly button.

You whimper softly as Rafe’s tongue meets your nipples, his swirling movements have your back arching up towards him.

“Hey, baby? I know I literally just said you can do whatever, but I need you to stop all this teasin’ shit.” You pant.

Rafe smirks yet again, a part of you wants to wipe it off his face, but the other part just wants to suck him dry while all he can do is smirk.

“Yeah? What do y’want me to do angel?”

“God, just fuck me already Rafe!” You practically whine. The brunette wastes little time in stripping both you and him bare.

“Thought you loved foreplay,” Rafe’s nearly mocking you at this point, it’s borderline cruel but you can’t find a fuck to give.

“I’ve really had it with that mouth of yours today, either fuck me right here, or I’ll leave you will blue balls for the rest of the day.”

Rafe holds his hand out to your face and you lean up awkwardly, spitting on his palm. He pumps himself a few times before he slides into you. “I fuckin’ love when you threaten me. You’re so hot,” Rafe slurs as his cock nestles deeply inside of you, before almost pulling out completely.

“F-fuck..” You gasp as Rafe begins to pick up speed. His thrusts jostle your body, your tits bouncing as he slobbers in between them.

His balls slap against your skin as you cry out; Rafe’s not any better either. His chest heaves as he lets out deep, guttural moans.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Take it.” Rafe emphasizes his words with the rough snapping of his hips. You swear your mouth is touching the sand at this point with the way your moans pour out of your mouth.

“Right there, Rafe!” You can’t help but shout, you can feel him everywhere inside. His dick kisses your cervix, leaving you a mewling mess.

Rafe’s the only man you’ve been with that’s ever been able to make you feel utterly cock-drunk, you both are aware of this. You’ve told him before that the others you’ve been with haven't been able to make you climax as good as Rafe does. He fucks you roughly, yet he always makes sure you feel loved and comfortable throughout.

Rafe nudges your hand, which has a death grip on the blanket beneath you both. His large hands intertwine with your smaller ones.

You can’t tell if you’re tearing up from the love from your boyfriend, or from the brutal pace he’s set on. —Most likely the latter.

The way your pussy tightens around him has Rafe’s mind feeling utterly fuzzy. All he can focus on is you. He knows it’s a matter of time before people start showing, so Rafe uses the hand that held your waist to rub small, yet precise circles onto your clit.

Your bare chest is against his, the skin-on-skin contact making you feel as if you’re on cloud nine on top of the stimulation.

“Ray…Ray I’m c-close, baby.” You can’t barely get a word in. You use your hand to push his back down, trying to somehow get him even closer to you.

Rafe opens his eyes to look at you, since they were squeezed shut moments prior.

You’re laying there, hair spread around your head almost in a halo-like manner, and it doesn’t help that the sun is shining down onto you beautifully. If anything, it makes Rafe’s cock twitch inside of you more.

“Yeah. I’m right with you, Buttercup. I promise.” His breath fans your face, as yours does his.

“Please cum with me. Please—Please baby, please give it to me.” Rafe continues to whine and babble in your ears, pleading for you to give him your release as he starts to reach his.

He can’t be bothered to glance around for possible on-lookers, not when you squeak out weak ‘uh-uh-uh’s.

The pornographic moans which come from the both of you fill the air like a cloud of smoke. You're squeezing his hand as he squeezes your hip, no doubt leaving a bruise behind.

With one strong thrust, Rafe shoots his load inside of you with a high pitch, breathy groan, you feel your euphoric release shortly after.

“Fu-uck,” Rafe hiccups. “‘M sorry, I wanted you to cum first but you were squeezin’ s’much and—“ You interrupted his barely coherent rambling with a kiss to his lips, words of reassurance spilling from your mouth.

Rafe takes a spare towel and gently cleans you, he mumbles and apologizes after you hiss at the contact. He takes his shirt which was once discarded after he cleans himself, then covers your frame. He quickly pulls his shorts back up.

You lay shoulder to shoulder with him, and you crane your neck to look at him with a giddy smile, which Rafe reciprocates immediately.

“I love you, baby.” He speaks softly, not wanting to be any louder than the waves that flow a few feet away from the two of you.

“I love you too, Ray.” You hum tiredly while you curl into him.

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks up, momentarily stopping the circles he was rubbing onto your skin. “…You’re still on the pill, right?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you!” You cackle at him, Rafe tries to maintain his facade but his face breaks as he joins in the laughter.

“I’m serious! That’s a serious question!” Rafe digs his digits into your side, tickling you as he rolls on top of you.

“Whatever! I’m still going to teach you how to surf one day, loser!” You yell with a giggle.

And the thing is, he’ll let you teach him; anything your heart desires.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Just a little bit

In Ho x reader [Smut] 📸

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

This is a post inspired by @457gf X link (provided below, it looks just like it would on 457gf’s profile) Please remember to be logged on X (twitter) for the link to work. Thank youuuu.

Hwang “Just the tip” In Ho

Takes place during season 1.

You were late. Late to wake up, late to work, late. He’s gonna kill me you thought. You knew your boss would definitely be the one to shoot you down. He’d be glad to. You said your prayers and walked out your door, struggling to pull your hood over your head correctly.

You were a square mask. Utmost respect, important, you were gonna die today. You knew you. Cold sweats as you walked towards your post. Another square mask turned his head towards you before looking back and straight ahead.

“Come see me in my office. Now.” The Front Man said.

“Yes sir” you spoke, standing and following him to his office. He was angry, you could hear it in each authoritative step he took. He stood in front of you.

“Remove your mask” you bowed and removed it. (Y/n) (l/n)”

“Yes sir. ID code: 001456457” you stated.

“I didn’t ask for your ID code, idiot.” He spat harshly.

“Why were you late?”

“Sir, I was kept up late by the workers being rambunctious” you said. “Workers 014 and 026 kept making noise and horsing around, I had to attend to them sir. As duty manager 001, I am bound to report them and keep them in line”

“I’m aware of what your job entails as 001, I created the job of 001” he said calmly. “(L/n), do you know why you’re placed as manager 001?”

“No sir” you shook your head.

“Because you’re pretty.” He spoke. “Because the closer you are to me, the easier it is for me to get my hands on you and no one care to ask, because you’re so high up, they know you could kill them and get away with it”

“Thank you sir” you bowed.

“No need for thanks. Drop the act. Let’s speak as humans not as boss and worker” he said. “Look at the food chain, (y/n), CEO are my bosses, I am your boss, you are the boss of soldiers and workers. When you mess up, they act up. You cannot be late”

“Are you going to kill me?” You blurt. In Hos eyes widened.

“No, I’m going to torture you in a way you’ve never imagined.” He said, looked at you through the eyes of the mask. You felt his gaze. “Strip” he ordered.

“Sir?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself” he said with warning. You set your mask in the pocket, removing your shiesty (the ski mask thing they wear). The sound of your zipper echoed through the silent room. Your pink suit dropped to the floor. Revealing a small lazy bra and a matching thong.

His cock aches for you. In Ho told himself this was justified. Worse than killing you, sexual torment. No release. He was a predator and you were his prey. He was going to destroy you inside out till you were convinced it was love and you needed him.

“Turn around.” He gave another order. “You tell anyone what you saw and what we dis in here today and really will kill you, (l/n)”

“Yes sir”

The Front man removed his mask, a handsome face hit behind that cold steel mask. He wasn’t handsome he was

“Beautiful” you said aloud. “You’re beautiful” the corner of his lip curled into a smile before disappearing. No longer visible, now all that was there was the same serious expression. How could an angel be so serious? You thought. He pushed you onto his bed. Undoing his clothes he stood bare in front of you. Abs shining as the sun peeked through the tall windows, a golden light cast upon him.

“Spread your legs.” You nodded, spreading them. “I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of this (y/n) and afterwords, you’ll be wanting more but sent away to your quarters feeling empty” he declared to you. Trailing the tip of his erect cock down the front of your thong.

You let out a soft whimper as In Ho's cock made contact with your clit, only thing between true satisfaction was your thin lace. He started rubbing gently, the friction building between you, your wetness exceeding out of your pussy and past your thong. Low grunts rumbled from his throat as he moved against you, each motion eliciting more whimpers from you.

You watched helplessly as he fucked you. The string of your thong separating him cock from entering you, but you dripping arousal getting his cock wet.

As you continued, your breathing synchronized, heavy and labored. In Ho's movements became more urgent, his grunts deeper and closer together. Your whimpers turned into moans now - "oh god" escaping your lips over and over.

You couldn’t ever tell what you were so turned on by… the fact that he was using you to please himself but not satisfying you, or the way he sounded and looked at you as he did.

In Ho finally reached climax, cumming on your thong in hot spurts that left him shuddering with pleasure and relief. Your pussy, though covered, was white. Your groaned in frustration, clawing at him at he departed from you.

“You have no place with me in this moment. Get dressed and return to your post. I don’t want to see you until the end of the day for clock out.” He said getting dressed.

“Yes sir, thank you, sir” you dressed as quickly as you could. Trying to get out of his overwhelming presence. Before you could finish walking past him, he gripped your forearm tightly.

“Be late again, and next time, I can assure you, I will not be so kind. Do yourself a favor though, (y/n), take pride in your mistake. It got you a ticket to be put on my radar as if I haven’t imagined you bent over my desk. I was just being a gentleman” he let go of you and you scurried off.

He watched you as you did. Smirking like he’s completed something. You’re going to mess up again. That look of desperation said everything he needed to know. You planned on fucking up, just to get back to him. He wanted to destroy you. But he did fall in love with your beauty, just a little bit.

[scoobywrites690]

~Making cowboy John Price a sweet little treat~

(I’m aware the middle picture isn’t anything to do with pie it looks more like crepes or something but shush let’s just pretend. I also think this is a load of shit but I haven't posted anything in a while and I can't seem to get any inspiration flowing so this is what you're getting)

You wanted to do something nice for him, he's not been working for your father for long but from what you've been able to figure out he doesn't seem to have come from much. So, the least you could do is bake him something nice. (everybody likes a sweet treat)

The strawberries filling the pie are all freshly picked from the garden out back, having been washed and dried and then put in a pot on the stove with sugar and water to stew away making it into a sickly sweet filling.

The pastry was made and kneaded by hand, using ingredients from the farm, rolling and moulding it into the right shape. Cutting thin strips of pastry to make the lattice pattern across the top. All to put it in the oven to get a nice golden tint to it. You made it with love, pouring all you had into it. John deserved something special and that’s what you were going to give him.

It’s late afternoon by the time you trek down to the stables with a basket hooked under one arm whilst the sun beams down onto you as the gravelled path crunches underneath your boots, as you go in search of the grumpy rancher.

"Hellooo?" You say, in a sing-song tone as you enter the stable. The smell of barn animals mixed with the familiar scent of fresh hay hits you as you walk further into the stables, the horses watch from their stalls as you half walk half skip past them with a wicker basket in hand.

"Over here." The rough voice says from over in the back corner. Reaching the last stall of the row you find John with a pitchfork and wheelbarrow at tow as he mucks out the stall. His forehead beading with sweat even though the stables provide a very grateful shelter from the blistering sun.

"Here, take this." You say, reaching into the pocket of your dress and pulling out your handkerchief.

"Thanks." He grunts "What are you doing down here?" He asks, as he wipes at his forehead with the piece of cloth. The pale cream fabric being left with a very noticeable brown smug across it, causing John to apologise once he notices it.

"Don't apologise, silly." You chuckle, brushing off his apology. "I made something for you, it's only a little thing, but I thought you might like it." You announce, holding the basket out towards him. The picnic blanket patterned cloth covers the top of the basket, hiding the treat from John's questioning eyes.

"You didn't have to make me anything." He remarks, eyeing the basket suspiciously as he takes it off of you.

"It's not gonna bite ya, just open it." You remark, chuckling at the wary expression that's slapped across his face.

As he peels back the fabric from the basket, you watch as his face softens from something of confusion to some form of contentment. Even the somewhat permanent furrow in between his brows had softened into almost nothingness, as he stared down at the homemade pie in the bottom of the basket.

"I don't expect a thank you, as I said I did it because I wanted to, so just let me know if it tastes alright." You say before spinning on your heels to leave. John has only been on the ranch for a short period of time, but it's been enough for you to cotton on to the fact that he's not good with emotions. Which is why you attempt to take your leave.

But it's the hand catching a hold of your wrist that stops you dead in your tracks. Spinning you around to face the big brute of the man that you just gifted a pie, before you're being pulled into the flannel covered chest of said man. His arms come round to meet at the back of you, pulling you into what must be the most unexpected hug you've ever received.

"Thank you." He grumbles into your hair, before releasing you again. Spinning to grab a hold of the pitchfork again, busying himself so he can't freak out over the fact that he hugged you.

"You're welcome." You say meekly, your face flushed with heat as you scurry out of the stables, rushing past all the horses who huff in annoyance when you don't even glance their way.

But the horses were the last thing on your mind right now, the sound of your heart trying to beat out of your chest is what's got your mind so preoccupied. You didn't understand though, you've hugged many different men in your life, family and friends. But that hug with John had your body reacting in a way it had never reacted before.

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 10 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 10k oof

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE!!! ANOTHER 10K BOMB HITTING YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOWWW 💥💥💥 Many shifting POVs this chapter bc there's too many things happening at the same time!!! Just know I'm rubbing my hands like an evil fly as I post this chapter hehehheheheheh ENJOY!!! <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Alucard would not fail.

The sky above him was painted in red. The sun, a symbol of hope and life, was hidden behind an eerie shadow that had nothing to do with the natural movement of celestial bodies. The air smelled of salt, iron, apprehension and fear. He was used to this smell – he knew it intimately. He was used to war. How many times had Alucard put his life on the front line before? Uncountable. Every time he faced an enemy, whether weak or strong, he knew there was the possibility of dying. Perhaps that kept him on edge. Perhaps that’s why he kept fighting, aside from his love for humanity.

The men behind him weren’t used to this feeling. The heaviness in the atmosphere, the strange weigh that preceded battle; some of them might’ve fought against humans, not against vampires or demons or deities. They had no idea what waited for them.

And that is why Alucard would not fail.

He stood in front of the defensive lines, his grip on the sword unwavering as he held it close to his chest as a sign to halt. The wind played with his hair and cape. His senses, sharpened beyond human capabilities; he could hear every breath, every step, every whisper, every heartbeat. His own emotions, controlled with the precision of a true master. Serenity. Severity. Confidence. These men needed it. They needed a strong image to look at; they needed an unyielding force to trust.

The moment Alucard entered the Revolutionary Commune holding the severed head of one of Erzsebet’s servants, he understood that he had taken the responsibility over that fight. He also felt that weight over his shoulders – the weight of hundreds of lives of courageous men offering to fight, and hundreds of thousands of other civilians. Elders, children, women… they had been evacuated to the outskirts of the city, but if everything went down, the Vampire Messiah’s army would not spare anyone.

And that is why Alucard would not fail.

That is why his impeccable posture and severe expression did not change when he saw a battalion of vampires approaching from the other side of the bridge. That is why he was firm when he lifted his sword, signaling the men behind him to get ready to shoot. That is why he did not flinch when she finally appeared from within the fog, being carried by two horses in a golden chariot.

Some men gasped at her horrendous figure. Taller than any human being or vampire, her giant red hair looked like a wild lion’s mane; her face was distorted into animalistic traits. While Annette, possessed by Sekhmet’s Akh, looked beautiful and dignified – the goddess of healing –, Erzsebet looked like a ferocious monster – the goddess of war.

She was extremely powerful now. Alucard could feel her pungent power from miles away; the horrid stench of profane magic. She brought fear with herself, as if gravity became heavier around her, luring weaker creatures into submission.

Erzsebet locked eyes with Alucard. Anyone else would’ve passed out with that simple feral gaze. She grinned, exposing her sharp teeth – a smile filled with vanity and anger.

“Alucard!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. “Where is my Ruby?!”

Alucard wanted to kill her.

Right then and right there.

But that was not part of the strategy. He had to keep his own emotions in place. Annette and Richter would take responsibility over fighting her; Alucard had to care for the men behind him.

He held himself back from attacking her. That would dismantle the plan. That would be irrational and Alucard had to be rational regardless of how he felt for her.

From afar, he heard a beautiful unknown male voice singing in a foreign language; Creole, he understood with a bit of surprise. Soldiers, attack. Those who die, so what?

A war cry.

Very appropriate.

Alucard pointed his sword towards her.

“Now!”

Cannons ignited. Multiple explosions. A hailstorm of shots; the front lines of her battalion were immediately obliterated, rows of vampires being reduced to pieces without having a chance to react. The smell of iron became stronger. Smoke clouded the bridge.

“Again!” He ordered. More shots. More explosions.

That wouldn’t be enough to stop Erzsebet and he knew it. Alucard got out of the way the moment she attacked – too fast for a creature so big. She was strong, but hasty, disorganized, too angry for her own good. She was no warrior and that would be their upper hand.

Fuck, Alucard wanted to fight her. He wanted to impale his sword through her chest, he wanted to cut her horrendous head off. He looked at her strength and her size and her ferocity and remembered Ruby’s size compared to her, Ruby’s fragility, Ruby’s inherent fear which was hammered into her – and that made him hate hate hate hate Erzsebet. But the battlefield was no place for hate; hate clouds your perception, your senses, your intelligence. He had to trust his plan and his allies.

So Alucard turned around and ran.

He lead his men to the backstreets, abandoning the bridge. Erzsebet’s followers saw it as weakness. Vampires were predators; if you act like prey, they would naturally be attracted… and their instinct was their doom.

The streets were barricaded with meters and meters of rubble.

Before the vampires realized they were cornered, another hailstorm of shots fell over them – coming from above.

Soldiers hidden inside the street’s buildings shot again, and again, and again. Alucard’s vision sharpened as he attacked before they could regroup. These vampires knew who he was. These vampires trembled, knowing they had no chance against him – and their expression of fear would remain forever when Alucard sliced their heads off; in their vision, he was but a red blur of death, moving too fast to be stopped.

He moved on to the next street, and the next, and the next in a frantic pace, not stopping for a second to breathe. He needed to eliminate as many opponents as possible to minimize the chances of melee battle between humans and vampires while keeping the battalions focused on that part of the city – away from the refugee citizens and away from the tailor shop where Ruby was hidden. Alucard was like the grim reaper himself: no one could stand on his way. It seemed no one was enough of an opponent for him. No one made him lose his balance, no one was enough of a threat for him to wield his sword with both hands, no one broke his sprint. To witness that was like the fire of courage the soldiers needed to keep fighting. They had a strong ally; they could win.

Alucard already knew she was coming before she even appeared in his field of view.

He felt her presence, the flap of her gigantic wings behind him. When she halted her flight on the building in front of him, holding a maniacal grin and with the gaze of a killer, Alucard was ready to face her.

He already knew at that point that Drolta was the real danger. Drolta was the mastermind, the strategist behind everything. In this great chess game, Erzsebet might’ve been the King – the most important piece in the board, but Drolta was the Queen – the most powerful piece, the one that could move freely.

The ruby necklace sat on Drolta’s collarbones.

He’d been planning to defeat her for the past five years. He had killed her once and lost to her resurrected form once, too. Now, it didn’t only feel like it was his duty; it felt like justice.

Ruby’s frightened expression upon seeing Drolta again resurfaced in his mind.

I promise I won’t fail you again. Erzsebet and Drolta won’t get anywhere near you.

It was time to end this.

Drolta launched herself at full speed towards him. He gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands.

Alucard would not fail.

Mizrak had never felt so small as in the moment he landed in Paris.

With the help of Maria’s and Juste’s magic, they managed to fly to the capital in just a few hours. Mizrak ignored the dizziness and nausea, immediately focusing on the situation at hand.

Paris was in chaos. He could hear the screams and shots even from the sky – the sounds of battle. Blood painted the streets, made the air smell of iron. Spots of smoke peppered around the city, flashes of light illuminated the red sky. He’d never witnessed a battle so big, so heated, so violent before.

And at the center of the square where Richter and Annette waited stood the most gruesome creature he’d ever seen.

Mizrak took a second to understand that that was Erzsebet. She had transfigured herself into an even uglier, unholier thing; she was worse than any night creature he’d seen. Mizrak hated her. He hated that Emmanuel had placed all his bets on her and died for it. He hated himself for helping her to some degree; he was well aware that he had his share of fault in this.

He almost didn’t notice that Annette looked different – there were too many things to take in at the same time – and Richter explained that she was also possessed by this… entity, and that somehow granted them an advantage. Maria, Juste and Richter immediately took fighting positions. Mizrak unsheathed his curved sword.

He knew there was no way for him to face that demon. Maria, young and short the way she was, already proved herself to be a powerful magician; he saw Erzsebet’s servants gasp when she opened a huge golden portal and summoned a gigantic blue dragon from it. A part of him felt proud of her for being able to control her powers after so much effort.

Juste was an old man, but just as powerful as the blonde girl. He evoked lightning and ice and fire as easily as he breathed. And Richter united his magic prowess to his brutal fighting style and muscular physique – all the while Annette (or Sekhmet, whatever) worked on weakening Erzsebet.

As soon as they started fighting, the square became literal hell.

Their attacks seemed to shake the world itself. The three of them fought like a single body, in pure synchronicity, not letting Erzsebet stop for a second to recover. Their magic made Mizrak feel goosebumps, made his stomach drop.

Mizrak was just a man with a sword. He did not compare to them in any way.

But King David was a small boy and even so, he killed Goliath, a giant; because he had faith within him. Because he had God with him, guiding his movements, clearing his path to victory. Light always beats darkness – and Mizrak believed that God, the only true God, was on their side in this battlefield.

For the Lord is righteous and loves justice; the upright will see His face.

Mizrak might be just a man in the middle of beasts, but no man is ordinary when God stands by them.

He attacked.

His sanctified sword was the harbinger of justice against his enemies. Vampire after vampire, he slashed heads and stomachs, severed members; at every fallen enemy, he felt that he was little by little avenging all these poor soldiers killed in Machecoul by Drolta. He still remembered the smell of blood and fear that filled the air that afternoon; he still remembered the tears he shed, the despair he felt, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop that carnage.

Every cloaked vampire in the square was killed either by him, his allies, or even indirectly by Erzsebet in their violent fight. There was nothing he could contribute there anymore. He ran towards a nearby street.

His heartbeat throbbed in his ears. The ground beneath his feet shook – the result of the magical fight behind him or cannon explosions. The cobblestones were painted in blood; fallen soldiers were everywhere. Some already dead, some on the verge of it. Screams and shots came from all directions. Mizrak kept running, looking for more enemies; a tall wall of rubble that barricaded the street forced him to turn left.

More cloaked servants. With a scream of effort, Mizrak slashed the nearest one and jumped to the next. Vampires might’ve been stronger and faster than human beings, but most of these vampires weren’t fighters; they were just overconfident aristocrats that lived most of their lives inside palaces, hunting clueless humans in the night to feed. Mizrak doubted many of them ever faced anyone in battle before.

Of course, even a regular vampire was much more dangerous than a regular human. The multiple bodies on the floor he saw on his way was proof of it. Mizrak knew he had to be careful; a vampire is never too weak.

He moved on to the next street. Screams attracted him; three human soldiers tried to keep the barricade of rubble standing while an unknown force on the other side tried to destroy it. His heart dropped a little when he realized the soldiers were boys – probably even younger than Richter.

Mizrak rushed, leaning his back against the ruble with the strength of his whole body, replacing the skinnier looking soldier; the three of them were surprised.

“One of you, climb the wall and shoot!” He ordered through gritted teeth. Whatever was on the other side was too strong even for him; he wouldn’t take it for much longer than a minute.

Luckily, they weren’t too shocked to move. Two of the boys, a ginger one and a black haired one, immediately climbed over the tall wall with their muskets. Each could only shoot once, so they had to hope it would be enough to stop whatever waited for them. They silently counted to three before emerging, pointing their weapons down to the other side and shooting.

The pressure stopped.

Mizrak sighed in relief and leaned away, already feeling his arms and shoulders heavy with fatigue. But he couldn’t stop, not when his allies and these young boys were giving their all. Before the two soldiers could even climb down the wall again, Mizrak already had sprinted to the next alley, looking for opponents.

Mizrak kept running and running and running. A puddle of blood on the floor almost made him trip and fall. God, there were so many corpses; the remains of humans, vampires and night creatures… Mizrak already knew these images would stay with him for a long time. His throat felt dry, it almost burned. Sweat covered his entire body. He ignored all of that. The pain, the fatigue, his feelings, all of that brushed aside to the farthest corner of his mind–

And his mind went actually blank when the glimpse of a moss green skirt passed by him.

Mizrak widened his eyes. A woman? A human woman?! What was she doing in the middle of the chaos?! Maybe she didn’t evacuate for some reason? That wasn’t a vampire – she wasn’t wearing a black and red cloak. Cold fear immediately crawled his skin for that woman. She wouldn’t stay alive for much longer there.

He turned on the same corner she did – hell, that woman was fast. She had already almost reached the end of the street. “Mademoiselle, wait!” he yelled. The woman stopped for a second and looked back–

Wait.

He knew that face.

Worry immediately turned to suspicion; his widened eyes narrowed, his expression hardened. The woman stopped running, but he didn’t. She held some sort of golden staff in her hands.

She widened her eyes in shock when Mizrak grabbed her by both arms and slammed her against the nearest wall.

“What are you doing here?!” He demanded.

The young woman looked up at him with round scared eyes that almost made him feel bad. She gripped the scepter close to her chest, sweat dripped down her forehead, her hair was disheveled. What was her name again? It had something to do with a jewel stone… was it Jade? Pearl?– It didn’t matter. What mattered is that Mizrak never trusted her for a second.

He even questioned if Alucard was right by bringing her along to Paris, but decided to not argue since he knew the vampire was strong and could deal with the situation if she offered any danger. Now, though? Her running around the streets, alone, unsupervised?

That could mean no good.

She blinked a few times. “M-Mizrak, isn’t it?!” She asked in a breathless voice. “Please, I need your help. I need to–“

“Why should I listen to a word you say?” Mizrak pressed on. She visibly shrunk. Once again, he felt a bit bad, but decided to brush it aside. “You said you were helping Erzsebet summon eclipses, and yet look up. They did it without you. Liar!”

“I wasn’t lying!” She gripped the scepter with even more strength; for the first time, a glimpse of anger crossed her features. “Erzsebet reunited with the second half of Sekhmet’s soul, that is why she didn’t need me this time!”

“And you said you weren’t a witch, yet what is it that you’re holding?!” Mizrak ignored what she said and his eyes dropped to the golden scepter she held. It had a strange symbol of the sun on its tip and multiple scriptures in a language he didn’t know. Clearly paganism. “You were just waiting for an opportunity to act, isn’t it? Erzsebet’s witch!”

She looked actually angry for a second; but her eyes suddenly locked with something behind him and they widened.

“Watch out!”

She moved faster than him.

The jewel stone girl used her scepter to push Mizrak out of the way, pressing it on the side of his body; it wasn’t enough to send him flying away – Mizrak was way too heavy for that – but he lost his balance regardless. This saved his life. If he had stayed on that same spot a second longer, he would’ve had his head ripped off by a cloaked vampire.

Mizrak turned around and unsheathed his sword again in a quick motion, slicing the head of the vampire off with a scream of effort.

They watched the body on the ground, both breathless and in silence, for some seconds.

Mizrak turned back to her slowly.

She… had saved his life. But that wasn’t enough to convince him.

The young woman gulped and hardened her expression.

“Sir, I need you to trust me. Please, I just want to help them. Y-You’ve seen how many losses they’ve had. Erzsebet’s army is stronger and you know it.” She stepped closer to him.

Mizrak gripped the hilt of his sword harder. “All the odds are against you.”

She groaned.

Jewel stone girl looked fragile and scared the entire time he’d been around her at the ruins of Machecoul – and it didn’t quite convince him. At that moment, however, the heat of the battle seemed to get the best of her.

She was also on her limit.

“Fine!” And then her voice wasn’t quiet and controlled anymore. Finally, she’s letting her mask fall, a part of Mizrak thought–

But then she grabbed the blade of Mizrak’s sword and brought it close to her own neck.

Her hand immediately bled. The tip of the blade made a tiny cut on the base of her neck, yet she didn’t flinch; she stared at Mizrak with pure anger and determination. More than that – she was challenging him.

“Cut my head off, then!” She growled in a way that took Mizrak by surprise. He… he didn’t expect her to talk like that at all, not with the way he saw her behave before. “Go on, do it if you’re so suspicious of me! I won’t die anyway, I don’t care. But many more people will die and they can’t heal the way I do, unless we do something about it! Or will you keep wasting time questioning me?!”

Mizrak didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Blood dripped from her palm to her forearm, staining the white sleeve of her blouse. The way she didn’t flinch away from pain was impressive, he had to admit. The way her gaze didn’t waver was also a bit impressive… Mizrak was as muscular as a bull. He was the one holding the sword… and she didn’t look that scared of him – at least, not anymore.

And yet… Mizrak didn’t want to trust her.

Because trusting her meant trusting Olrox and he didn’t want to trust Olrox.

Hell, he didn’t want to think about Olrox – but he was the reason she was there anyway. It was Olrox who told Mizrak about jewel stone girl’s existence in the first place. Yes, he delivered the news to Alucard, but back then, he thought she would be a hostage; he never expected that Alucard and the others would simply let her walk freely.

Mizrak didn’t want to admit that his problem wasn’t with her directly; his anger was towards the damned green eyed vampire. The coward green eyed vampire that could be fighting with them at that moment but that chose to run away to the New World instead. The coward that had the audacity to invite him; as if Mizrak would ever run away from his duties and his beliefs.

Mizrak didn’t want to think about Olrox because if he did, he’d have to admit that a tiny hidden part of him was also relieved that he was away from this chaos, away from the maniacal vampire that would hunt him down eventually.

So he focused on the girl in front of him instead, the anger and determination in her eyes, the way she told him to cut her head off as if it was nothing, the way her palm bled and she didn’t move away regardless – and Mizrak decided that she wasn’t Olrox after all, which meant he could give her a chance.

Mizrak pulled his sword away from her grip and let his arm fall to the side of his body. He looked down at her with a high chin and a tightened jaw. She seemed uneasy for a moment.

“...I will cut your head off if I notice you’re acting suspicious for a second,” he declared with severity. “What is your plan?”

She was visibly relieved.

The young woman held the scepter with both hands again. “This scepter can storage sunlight somehow. I… I can awaken it. But I’ll need a high place to make it more effective.”

Mizrak frowned. “You can enter any of these empty buildings and go upstairs–“

“A higher place. The highest point in the area.”

The black haired monk thought for some seconds. The highest point in the city…

He heard steps behind him, which immediately made him turn around and lift his sword defensively – but it was not necessary.

The three young soldiers from earlier came running around the corner. They were all visibly tired, holding swords now that their muskets were probably out of gunpowder. Were they running after Mizrak since that moment?

But they didn’t seem to care for Mizrak, actually.

“Mademoiselle!” The ginger one widened his eyes. The three of them were shocked to see her here.

“What are you doing here, Miss Ruby?!” The black haired one said. The third blond boy frowned.

“Who said you could address her by her name?!”

Oh. So Ruby is her name.

The three boys reached them, immediately offering to get Ruby to safety at the same time. She tried to calm them down – Henri, Charles and Jules were their names – while Mizrak looked around the street.

The highest point in the city…

Then, it hit him.

It was obvious. It was in the eye of the hurricane. Most vampires and night creatures were focused there. Erzsebet was also close by. Mizrak wasn’t sure if bringing Ruby there, so close to that crazy vampire, would be a good idea… but there was no better place.

He turned around.

“Soldiers,” he called with authority; the three boys immediately turned to him. Mizrak wasn’t wearing a Revolutionary uniform like them, but you’d have to be a fool to argue with him. “We will escort this lady to the Notre Dame. No questions asked, we don’t have time.”

They wanted to ask questions, but they turned to Ruby – and the look she gave them made them became puddles over her feet.

“Please. I need your help,” she asked with impatient sweetness.

They immediately straightened their backs and nodded.

“Yes, Mademoiselle!”

“Anything for you!”

Mizrak refrained from rolling his eyes and gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands again. His body was aching, his throat was burning, his heart was confused – but he still had a fight ahead of him, so he brushed all that aside.

“Let’s go.”

They ran.

Mizrak took the lead; Ruby was right behind him, while the three boys protected her from her sides and rear. Just around the corner, they faced the first group of enemies; the monk, once again, took the lead and attacked first. He managed to take down two vampires while the third one tried to approach from the sides. The blond boy, Jules, blocked his attack with the sword, while the black haired one, Charles, sliced his head off.

Although they were successful, both looked extremely distressed with what they had just done; their faces went pale, eyes widened. They probably had been facing their enemies from afar, not on melee combat. Mizrak was about to yell at them – not because he didn’t feel empathy for them, but because the battlefield was no place to freeze.

But Ruby surprised him once again.

“We have to keep going!” She rushed them in an impatient tone, breaking them out of their trance. She wasn’t shocked at all. She didn’t seem to have a lot of empathy for them, actually, as if death was too casual for her to care...

But regardless of her methods, it worked. Mizrak went back to running, not waiting for them to recover, and they followed shortly.

Another corner turned, another explosion; they met a group of soldiers running on the opposite direction. They gesticulated vehemently for them to go back.

“Retreat! There are monsters fighting back there! You’ll be trampled like ants!” They yelled.

Mizrak knew they were right and knew to ignore them. No man is ordinary with God, he repeated it in his head over and over again to convince himself, to push him forward. The group kept running tirelessly. Another cloaked vampire. They attacked.

No man is ordinary with God. His knees were heavy. His wrists ached. The muscles of his arms burned. Mizrak brushed all that aside.A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand; but no evil will come near you. The next enemy came. He raised his sword and attacked. The next enemy came, and the next. They turned on another corner. The boys behind him protected and attacked from the sides. Mizrak didn’t stop to look back, putting blind faith in them.

No man is ordinary with God.

Mizrak knew this entire battle was already burned into his soul. He would never forget the horrendous faces, the bloodshed, the pain in his body. They would haunt him forever. Yet, he didn’t stop to think about anything; how these vampires were stronger than him, that if he let his guard down for a second, he’d be killed. But he reminded himself: The Lord is my light and my salvation; of whom shall I be afraid?

So he just moved forward.

Finally, they reached the square in front of the gigantic cathedral. Without the protection of buildings on both sides, they would have no way to hide – and the square was infested of night creatures and vampires. For the first time, Mizrak stopped running and signaled for the ones behind him to halt, crossing his eyes through the open area.

The cathedral’s front doors were closed. Mizrak realized with confusion that the night creatures were fighting among themselves, but he decided there was no time to question that; if the beasts were too focused in killing each other, they hopefully wouldn’t notice them passing by, which could be an advantage. Mizrak gulped, his burning throat begged for water. His entire body ached. But no, there was no time to focus on any of that. The task ahead of them was difficult; they had to try anyway. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God–

A lightning slashed the sky.

The thunder that followed was stronger than any cannon; it made everything shake. Even the vampires and night creatures at the square looked up in confusion. There were no storm clouds in the sky, what could’ve caused that? One of Juste’s powers, maybe? But it felt different for some reason–

Another lightning. Mizrak was looking up this time.

It had a purplish color.

His heartbeat immediately increased, his eyes widened. He thought he saw a strange big shadow in between the tall buildings, it looked to be flying over the ceilings… was he going insane? He– He knew the color of that magic. His chest filled with unstoppable expectation and hope; was it… Was it who he thought it was–?!

Mizrak tightened his eyes and shook his head violently. No. No, you don’t have time for that. It’s not him. Don’t think of him. You have to cross that square.

The black haired monk looked back. Ruby also had a focused expression, analyzing what was in front of them, holding the scepter strongly. Although she was sweating, she didn’t look nearly as tired as the three boys or Mizrak himself. Did her healing ability also heal tiredness?

“Let’s take advantage of the distraction,” Mizrak said. She nodded. He looked ahead again and gripped the sword with both hands once more; his wrists and fingers hurt so much that Mizrak didn’t think he’d be able to stretch them for a while.

Mizrak took a deep breath.

No man is ordinary with God.

“Come on!”

They leaped into the square.

His heart throbbed faster than ever. His vision was focused on their destination. Growls, screams, flesh being pierced, shots, rumbles from the magical battle happening not far from there, more purple lightnings; chaos was what echoed from all directions, making his head ache. They avoided the spots of night creature fights without slowing their pace, moving as a single body. They were halfway there. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God. No man is ordinary with God…

“It’s her!”

Mizrak whipped his head to the side.

A cloaked vampire pointed towards them – towards Ruby – with a ferocious expression.

“It’s the woman the Vampire Messiah talked about!” He continued, drawing the attention of the vampires around him. “Whoever takes her will be rewarded!”

Fuck!

“Keep running!” Mizrak yelled looking over his shoulder. As if it was needed. For the first time, he saw fear plastered over Ruby’s face again.

The vampires chased them now.

We’re almost there we’re almost there we’re almost there keep running keep running keep running–

Finally finally finally– the group reached the central doors of the cathedral.

And they were locked.

Henri and Jules tried to push them open with the strength of their bodies, yet they didn’t move. Meanwhile, the vampires gathered around them. They were cornered.

Rage filled Mizrak’s heart.

These vampires – they would not enter the house of God. His wrists hurt his fingers hurt his arms hurt his breathing was difficult. It didn’t matter. As if he felt empowered by colossal building behind him, the earthly materialization of the Lord’s fearing size, Mizrak stood tall, taking a defensive position. They would not stain the cathedral with their presence or their filthy blood. Mizrak would be its defender despite his aching body.

For no man is ordinary with God.

Jules and Charles took their places by his sides while Ruby and Henri kept trying to push the doors open. Nine vampires against three tired humans.

Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.

The vampires attacked.

The three defended.

Everything became a blur of blood and pain and screams and grunts and growls. Mizrak slashed, blocked, crouched down, jumped; one enemy fell. He pushed Charles out of the way before he could be stabbed. The second enemy fell. Mizrak pierced a chest with his sword. The third fell. Jules and Charles worked together to kill one of them; Mizrak slashed one more neck. The fifth and the sixth. The seventh was taken down from behind – someone shot him from across the square, though he could not see who exactly was helping them.

A loud scratching noise behind them.

“It’s opened!” Ruby screamed; he turned briefly to see that they had burst the locks. Henri and her pushed the heavy doors open with their backs. “Quick, let’s get in!”

The three retreated with their backs still facing the cathedral, blades still held up; a slight breeze of relief hit Mizrak. The vampires wouldn’t follow them inside. They couldn’t step in, he was confident of that. No man is ordinary with God. The Lord had helped him achieve this, had held his hands, guided his blade towards victory.

An eighth enemy still stood. Mizrak stepped forward to face it.

“Come in, Mizrak!” Charles rushed him; Henri had entered, Jules too, and they were trying to pull Ruby in, but she seemed to refuse to until Mizrak joined them.

He looked ahead again. Blocked an attack, slashed another neck. There were vampires approaching from afar. He had to walk in to safety. Another purple lightning crossed the sky; Mizrak looked up for a moment, once more under the impression that he saw a strange huge shadow–

“MIZRAK!”

It was too late.

Mizrak didn’t have time to look back at Ruby.

Lacerating pain.

His body shook. His vision blurred. Strength left his legs.

Slowly, Mizrak looked down.

A dagger pierced through his stomach. A stain of blood grew larger over the cross on his uniform.

The ninth vampire.

Rage painted Mizrak’s vision in red; a scream erupted from within him while he raised his sword one last time, still carried by adrenaline, slashing the vampire’s torso and neck.

His enemy fell.

Mizrak couldn’t breathe properly anymore; a single tear slid down his cheek. He pressed his tightened fist over the wound, feeling his own warm blood drip down his clothes; the world twirled. The pain was nauseating. It was maddening.

It’s like he could hear Notre Dame’s bells ringing in his ears.

Mizrak… Mizrak was a step away from entering the cathedral.

Yet, he couldn’t walk anymore.

Freezing cold crept over his body. He fought and fought and fought in the name of the Lord; he prayed and prayed and prayed, tried to repent, tried to convince Emmanuel to repent before his death. He had cut ties with Olrox. He… he did everything.

No.

“Mizrak!” He heard Ruby’s voice again, but she sounded distant; he felt the soft touch of her hand on his shoulder, but he pushed her away with the little strength he still had.

“Get in, woman,” he groaned, feeling the taste of iron in his tongue. “You… you said you had a plan. I will… protect the entrance.”

He knew he couldn’t. She knew it, too, and still hesitated.

Mizrak refused to look at her.

“Get in, now!” He screamed.

After a few seconds, he heard steps behind him retreating – then, the sound of the heavy doors being closed again.

Another tear fell down Mizrak’s cheek.

His legs had no strength anymore. He fell to his knees.

He felt so, so cold. Not only the wound hurt, his entire body ached. He panted, the grip around the sword finally loosened.

A quiet sob escaped past his lips. Mizrak looked up. The statues of Kings of Judah seemed to be looking directly at him. Another purple lightning illuminated the sky, casting eerie shadows over their faces.

Angry faces. Judging faces.

Mizrak stood in front of the Portal of the Last Judgment – and he had just been judged.

Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God?

The tears were now unstoppable. Mizrak gripped the fabric of his uniform, his entire body trembled. How foolish, how presumptuous of him to think he’d keep these vampires away from the house of God when he was not allowed to get in; not anymore. That was the clear confirmation of all his worst suspicions, his most horrendous nightmares. What awaited him on the other side wasn’t Saint Peter’s welcoming words, wasn’t Virgin Mary’s motherly hug; what waited for him were the fires that would burn him eternally. What waited for him was the Devil that came to reap Emmanuel’s soul.

No immoral, impure or greedy person has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.

Finally, his body gave up. Mizrak laid on the cold floor, feeling all of his strength vanish and every centimeter of him shake in cold fear. It was so, so cold. It was so, so painful. It was so lonely and frightening.

God was not beside him anymore – and so, Mizrak became an ordinary man.

Another purple lightning. A shrilling bestial growl crossed the air. Mizrak was ordinary. Mizrak was impure. Mizrak was a sinner.

Mizrak wished, as death approached him like the freezing winds of North, that he could see Olrox again one last time.

And then – he didn’t wish for anything anymore.

Darkness.

The sound of the doors closing echoed within the gigantic cathedral like thunders.

Your fingers were shaking, the grip around the scepter wasn’t as determined as before. Mizrak… that wound would kill him, and there was nothing you could do. You begged for his help and you wouldn’t be able to help him in the end…

This has to work. It has to, no matter what, so his sacrifice won’t be in vain.

“Mademoiselle, we’re here. W-What do we do now?” Jules asked while he and Charles kept their backs leaning against the doors. The three of them were panting and sweating, you didn’t know how long it’d take for them to be completely exhausted.

“I need to climb the tower!” You said, looking around the great entrance hall of the cathedral, pushing your worry and guilt for Mizrak to the back of your mind. The noises of the outside battle were muffled, every small sound you produced echoed. The cathedral was, in a way, even more magnificent than the Louvre; it wasn’t as opulent, and that perhaps was what brought this chilling sense of greatness. The high vaulted ceiling made you feel small; the reflex of the stained glass on the floor being illuminated by the strange purple lightnings out there was somehow eerie. The place was dimly lit by candles.

You were surprised to notice that, at the very back of the cathedral, after rows and rows of wooden benches, there were people; knelt down in front of the great altar where hundreds of candles burned slowly. They were too far for you to even recognize any face, but they seemed surprised by your presence. They wore monk tunics. Oh… you understood. They refused to leave their temple even in the middle of a war. You could respect their courage and nobility.

One more group of people that would be dead soon if you didn’t succeed.

“I’ll stay here and hold the doors,” Jules spoke up. “You two, help her get up there!”

Charles and Henri nodded. “This way, Mademoiselle!” The redhead exclaimed, pointing toward the stairs that led to the north bell tower. You nodded.

The monks were fast approaching. Before turning around and following the two boys, you looked at them; “Please, help him barricade the doors!”

Luckily, no one wanted to argue – they understood the gravity of the situation. Before finally disappearing inside a corridor, you had time to see the group of monks dragging wooden benches toward the doors in order to lock it again.

And then, you were faced with hundreds of hundreds of steps to climb.

The spiral staircase was made of stone, just like the walls around you; it was a small passage, almost claustrophobic. You held some of your skirt and started your way up; Charles took the lead while Henri covered you from behind. The tower was humid and dark; there were small windows in regular gaps, but as the sun was hidden behind that maleficent shadow, it didn’t provide much light.

“We- We should’ve taken some candles…” You heard Henri complain through ragged breath behind you.

That’s when a new source of light appeared.

They hadn’t noticed it before because you weren’t in such a dark environment, but the inscriptions of the scepter had been glowing faintly for a while now, probably fueled by your fear and apprehension; its glow got a bit stronger after you saw Mizrak being stabbed. The object was slowly becoming warmer, too.

Charles looked behind his shoulder with a shocked expression.

“How–?”

“I don’t know. Let’s keep moving,” you rushed them.

They didn’t argue.

The three of you were panting, and the sound echoed within the tower. You didn’t dare to look out the small windows, trying to not get more desperate. There were so many corpses out there… how many of the men you helped yesterday, distributing uniforms or water or food, had already been killed? How many wives wouldn’t have their husbands back, or how many children would never see their fathers again?

Of course, all the volunteers were well aware of the possibility of dying. You can’t weave into war and expect no casualties. But that didn’t change the fact that there was a great imbalance in the scales; Erzsebet’s side had much more men, and a single vampire is worth ten regular humans, not to mention the night creatures – although, surprisingly, most of them seemed to be too busy trying to kill each other down there.

Finally, the stairs opened to another great hall. The large stained glass windows indicated that you had only arrived at the second level of the cathedral.

“That way!” Charles indicated another set of stairs that led to a mezzanine; from there, there was a door that seemed to lead up the tower.

Inside that door – more spiral stairs.

Your knees were starting to feel heavier and heavier; you felt sweat dripping down your entire body, gluing your blouse to your back. Your muscles seemed to burn and a sharp irritating pain tugged on the right side of your stomach. Yet, you didn’t stop for a moment, leaping two steps at time. Your discomfort was nothing compared to what Mizrak endured down there, these boys that had cuts and bruises on their bodies, or all the other soldiers that got hurt in battle.

May Annette and Richter be safe, you wished for the hundredth time. May that goddess leave Annette’s body soon.

You looked down briefly to the red string tied around your right wrist.

If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. It’s what Alucard asked of you.

He’d probably be so angry and disappointed that you disobeyed him. But you refused to untie that; Alucard had his duty to comply, the same way Annette and Richter had theirs. It wouldn’t be fair to simply call him at that moment. Not only did you not want to interrupt them, there was a part of you – a proud part, perhaps? Since when were you proud of anything? – that wanted to accomplish this without them. You didn’t want to feel useless anymore.

If you didn’t succeed, it’d all be for nothing. You’d have put these three young men in danger, gotten Mizrak hurt – probably killed – and would bring even more trouble over Alucard’s shoulders.

It’s going to work. I know it will. Something inside me is sure of it.

Five minutes of unstoppable climbing and you saw the outside light again.

The balcony extended around the entire structure of the cathedral, crossing it over the main hall and going around the south tower as well; the north bell tower stood tall behind you. However, it was so narrow that more than two people wouldn’t be able to walk side by side comfortably. A refreshing gust of wind hit your body; you felt hot and drenched of sweat after so much running and climbing. You leaned on the stone guard rail, giving yourself a second to recover your breathing.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

It was tall. Unnervingly tall. You had a good view of most of the city from there – and it only made you feel more desperate.

Fire outbreaks peppered here and there; it was a complete and terrible chaos. From this distance, everyone looked like ants. The strange purple lightnings had stopped. You wondered what was causing these things; Richter’s magic was blue, and as far as you knew, he didn’t know how to fly to be the source of it. So what was that? And why did it make your stomach drop?

Was it part of Sekhmet’s power? She had told you to keep away; maybe, for some reason, her powers would make you feel ill like that?

Charles was also leaning over the guard rail, catching his breath, while Henri leaned his hands over his knees. They were probably already exhausted, much more than you after all that running and fighting. Your throat burned, desperately begging for water. You adjusted your grip on the scepter.

“Is… Is this… enough?” Henri asked, panting.

You looked around.

This height was decent – but not enough.

How you knew that? You couldn’t tell, and you didn’t have time to question it. You decided to just follow your instincts.

You looked up to the top of the bell tower. It was imposing, scary. The stone gargoyles up there seemed to be gazing at you; it was like they didn’t like your presence. Well, they’d have to bear it.

You pointed up. “I need to get to the top.”

The two eyed each other. You couldn’t even be mad at them. Henri was ready to point the direction–

A hiss slashed the air.

You turned back to see that a vampire had climbed the tower, too, from outside; he jumped over the railing onto the balcony, right behind Henri.

You moved before your mouth could speak.

Repeating the movement you made with Mizrak, you pushed him out of the way with the scepter – but this time, you weren’t fast enough; the cloaked vampire’s sharp claws gnawed his right shoulder. Henri yelled in pain; blood splashed on your skirt.

The thought process behind your next action was fast.

You remembered how that vampire burned just by touching the scepter at the alley; you looked at how it was glowing – not as bright as it was at that time, and not as hot as well, but it was awakened anyway. Anger crossed your vision. You couldn’t do anything to help Mizrak; this time, you wouldn’t just stand and watch Henri get hurt.

You held the scepter with both hands. Putting all of your strength, you swung it towards the vampire.

The rays of the sun symbol were actually very sharp.

They slashed the vampire’s eyes; he screamed in agony, the spot where the scepter touched burned. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but he was certainly blind. His blood on the sun symbol boiled and evaporated in seconds.

While the man was completely disoriented, screaming in pain, Charles run towards him and pushed him over the stone railing.

You didn’t wait to see him hitting the ground.

“Henri!” You rushed towards him; the redhead boy gripped his shoulder, blood spilled from the wound.

Henri groaned. Charles put his good arm over his own shoulders. “Let’s get inside! There are more coming!”

You ran ahead this time and entered through a door that led to – sigh – more spiral stairs. They were even narrower this time, more claustrophobic. The two boys walked in and slammed the door shut; Charles took Henri’s sword and used it to lock it between the hinges. Someone tried to push it open and the two leaned their backs against it.

“Go, Mademoiselle!” Charles said. “We’ll hold them back!”

You hesitated for a second. Henri was hurt, both of them were tired. But would you have another chance if you stayed to help them?

So you turned and ran up.

You ignored how heavy your legs felt, how breathless you were, how your knees already wanted to fail you. The scepter was slowly but surely getting hotter as your desperation increased. You jumped two, three steps at once, trying to get there faster faster faster. You tripped and hit both knees on the edge of a step, immediately scratching both of them, but ignored it and kept climbing. Would they be able to fight down there? Would they survive? What if you left them behind to get killed? Would you be able to live with this guilt?

I have to make it. I have to make it. I have to make it.

Finally – a door appeared. You ran past it.

The very top of the bell tower.

The balcony was wider than on the level below you. The view was nauseating – you were so, so high up; you could see the Seine surrounding the cathedral on both ways, hundreds of ceilings as far as the eye could see. There were no taller buildings. Nothing that could hinder the power of the scepter.

You were shaking. You were panting. Your legs hurt. Strong wind played with your skirt and hair, it even felt that if you stood too close to the stone railing, it’d push you over the edge. Strange colorful explosions popped down there, but you couldn’t see what or who was causing it.

None of that mattered, not at that moment.

You walked to the middle point of the balcony and held the scepter with both hands once again. The inscriptions still glowed faintly, it was starting to feel uncomfortably hot.

A deep breath.

This is going to work. It will. It will.

You held it in front of you with the sun symbol pointed up at a close distance from your body. The chaos in the city extended up until where your eye could see. The sky still had that horrible red color, as if it was painted with blood.

Ruby. The same color of your delicious blood.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You didn’t know why you remembered this at that moment. Just the thought of that horrendous vampire made your stomach twirl. She, who treated you worse than an animal for longer than your brain could register; she who fed on your blood constantly as if you were but a meal. She who broke your very spirit to pieces until you became nothing but the compliant shell of a woman; empty, having no more strength to fight anymore. Because you fought her. You tried to push her away, to claw her face, to pull her hair; you tried so many times and failed so many times that you were too tired to keep trying.

She who made you lost who you truly were. Would you ever be able to retrieve it? Would you be able to find within yourself, in your memories, the person you really were before she called you Ruby that night?

Who was I before Ruby?

The inscriptions glowed a little brighter.

Your breath hitched when you realized that you could see her from up there.

Blocks and blocks away at some square – the source of the strange colorful lights you saw earlier; you couldn’t understand exactly what was happening, but recognized that blue fire… Richter’s fire. And then yellow lightning and red fire, too… A blue dragon flying over the buildings. All of that directed at her.

Erzsebet was but a dot in the distance, but you recognized that red hair.

A part of you – the part that was trained to fear – immediately shook, had the instinct to run inside the tower again and hide. What if she saw you there? She’d grab you and never let you go. She’d hurt you again and again and again until you forgot about everything; all the people you’ve met, all the things you discovered and experienced in these few days, and then you’d be just an empty shell again.

The other part of you felt angry.

Erzsebet was fighting against the people that took care of you, the first people that were ever kind to you, the people that treated you like an equal. She was hurting them the same way she hurt you so many times before.

You hated her.

You hated her with every fiber of your being.

It ignited your soul, set it on fire. That woman had to die. She had to die.

You used this hatred when you started to read the inscriptions on the scepter.

Alucard had advised you against it – but you knew at that moment it was the right thing to do. Once again, you could not understand what these words meant; but, while reading the moon book you felt disgusted and weak, now you felt stronger. Exhaustion completely vanished from your body, your scratched knees didn’t hurt anymore.

The scepter glowed brighter; brighter, brighter, brighter. The sun symbol started to shine. Not as bright as it did at the alley – so you kept reading.

It felt like you fell on a trance.

All the times Erzsebet drank your blood. All the times Drolta punished you. All the pain. All the humiliation. Being dragged from place to place, not having the right to even walk out of a room; all the humans you had to watch getting killed. That woman has to die. She has to die.

The golden glow of the scepter enveloped your body. The artifact was hot. It burned your palms. You were hot – that same devastating heat that cloistered around your heart came back. It burned as if you were thrown into the pit of a volcano.

The sun symbol was shining… but not nearly as bright as it did at the alley.

No.

This isn’t supposed to happen. What’s wrong?!

You kept reading, feeling despair mix with your hatred; the shine wasn’t enough to brighten the city, but it was enough to draw attention to you. Weren’t these the feelings that made the scepter awaken at that moment? Why was it acting different now?

The sun wasn’t shining that bright, but the burn in your heart didn’t ease. No, it was increasing. Not just your heart – soon, it felt that someone had thrown boiling oil over your skin. It burned burned burned burned burned; you wanted to drop that thing away, you wanted to scream in pain. Every muscle burned, every vein, every centimeter of your skin; it was unbearable, it was maddening, you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts anymore, you couldn’t keep your eyes open, your face distorted in a scowl of pain. Drop it! Throw it away! It hurts! IT HURTS!

“You will burn from inside out, ???.”

What?

Who said that?

You felt a hand touch your shoulder softly, but couldn’t open your eyes to see who it was.

Who– Who is it?

Who is it?

The sounds of the battle down there– all gone.

It is tranquil. A soft breeze caresses your face. The scepter burns your palms.

She doesn’t back away.

“You’re always too angry, ???.” She continues in a soothing voice. Her touch on your shoulder is featherlight. “This won’t get you anywhere. Breathe slowly.”

You inhale. You exhale.

“This ritual isn’t meant to kill; it does not go well with hatred. This ritual exists to protect the ones you love. If you let anger take the lead, it will consume you; it will burn you. Love does not burn. Love warms up.”

Your frown softened.

Your tense members too.

It exists to protect.

You brushed the memories of Erzsebet and Drolta aside. It was hard – they were mostly all you knew. But you decided to focus on something else.

Annette’s encouraging words. Her strength and her kindness.

The moments Richter fought to protect you, the way you felt some sort of odd affection towards him.

The three boys that gave you the lily that was still safely stored in the pocket of your vest. Henri, Jules and Charles, who bravely helped you get to the cathedral. All the men you helped yesterday, all of them getting ready to fight to protect their families, to help defeat a force much stronger than them.

And…

Him.

His serene smiles. His soft touches. The way he respected and cared for you from the moment you first met; the way he never looked down on you, always talked to you as an equal. The way he was always willing to make you feel better. The way he showed kindness through small gestures. The warmth of his hug.

And there was something else, too. At that moment, other faces flashed in your mind – faces your mind didn’t remember, but your heart did. One of these faces was of the little boy you saw on your dream and many more.

All of these moments, all of these faces – though they weren’t much, though the bad experiences were far more, were enough to overwhelm them. Were enough to comfort you in the midst of so much pain.

And then – you weren’t burning anymore.

You just felt... warm.

This warmth consumed you. It eased your mind, your spirit, your soul. It strengthened you. There was no pain anymore, no hatred; the warmth in your heart extended to every corner of your body, expanded to your entire consciousness.

All that existed was light.

All that existed was sun.

All that existed was… love.

No one saw it coming.

Erzsebet’s servants didn’t see it coming. The night creatures didn’t see it coming. The soldiers didn’t see it coming. Alucard didn’t see it coming.

Out of nowhere, the sky started to get clear.

The white-haired vampire looked up; the eclipse was still very much intact. So what the hell was happening?

Then – it hit him.

His eyes widened. Alucard flew to the top of the nearest ceiling and looked around–

He had time to see a small dot shining atop of Notre Dame, probably two kilometers away from where he was.

The small dot grew larger. Larger. That light got brighter – so bright that he had to protect his eyes; so bright that for a moment, the sky wasn’t crimson red anymore. Goosebumps roamed his skin. That… that was pure power.

And then, he heard the screams.

Yells of agony all around the city. The vampires tried to run, tried to hide – but most of them didn’t have time to react; as soon as light hit their bodies, they burned. They fell to their knees, hollering in excruciating pain, until there was nothing left of them but a pile of ashes. The human soldiers looked around, confused at why that light didn’t harm them, only their enemies.

A strange feeling tugged at Alucard’s heart.

But he heard another scream – a scream of pure hatred this time that slashed the air of Paris.

It was Drolta.

She was flying like a cannonball towards the cathedral.

Alucard wouldn’t let her.

He gripped his sword with both hands; red glow enveloped his body. He sprinted over the ceilings of Paris on a beeline, so fast that glass windows shattered after his passage.

He got to the top of Notre Dame faster than her, standing on top of the stone railing – putting himself between Ruby and Drolta.

The night creature had a completely insane expression, maddened by rage; Alucard, on the other hand, stared at her with controlled anger.

When she was just meters away, Alucard slashed the air with his sword in a wide swing.

It produced a red energy shockwave that hit Drolta in the stomach with the force of a thousand tons.

She was sent flying back all the way she came from; she hit one, two, three, four buildings, destroying everything on her way.

That would keep her quiet for a while.

Alucard released his sword for a second, keeping it floating near his body, and turned around.

His eyes widened in shock and… admiration.

Ruby was levitating in the air, holding the scepter in front of her body with both hands; she had her eyes closed in a serene expression, almost as if she was asleep. Her hair was loose, it swayed behind her figure. A golden aura enveloped her body, but it still looked different than what happened to Annette in a way.

She looked beautiful.

The shine of the scepter was diminishing. So was the aura around her. Slowly, she started to get closer to the ground again. Alucard jumped from the railing onto the balcony; he extended his arms and took her before she could hit the floor.

Alucard knelt down with her cradled in his arms.

He put the scepter aside; it slid from her grip easily. Her eyes were still closed. The white-haired vampire pressed his hand on her forehead and neck; she felt warm, but not nearly as hot as she was that moment at the alley. In fact… there was a strange healthy aspect to her face. Her right sleeve was stained with blood, though he couldn’t see any injury.

She ran all the way from the tailor shop to the cathedral? Did she remember something? How did she know she’d be able to do this?

Alucard had so many questions – but all of that was brushed aside when Ruby frowned slightly and groaned; immediate relief washed over his body. She is awake.

She opened her eyes.

At first, Ruby looked at the sky with half lidded eyes. Then, she looked at him – and didn’t have much of a reaction. It was as if a part of her wasn’t really there. It made Alucard wonder if she was still under some sort of trance…

For a moment, Alucard thought that she wasn’t recognizing him.

And it surprisingly made him feel scared.

But she left a soft groan again.

“Did it… work…?” Ruby asked groggily.

Alucard almost sighed in relief.

“Yes.”

She looked down for a moment and saw the red string tied around his right wrist. That seemed to bring back more memories; Ruby immediately got more agitated.

“I’m sor–“

“Don’t you dare.” He interrupted her softly, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare…”

Alucard wasn’t planning on it, the same way he didn’t plan to hug her back then. But he couldn’t help it. Sometimes, he had to let his annoying mortal heart speak louder than reason. And at that moment, when adrenaline still pumped through his system, he let himself be carried again; he brought her closer to him again, he rested his chin on the top of her head. He let himself feel relief and content that she was safe, she was warm, she was in his arms. She had somehow managed to overcome her fear. She had somehow managed to destroy more than half of Erzsebet’s army on her own.

And Alucard felt proud of this human he barely even knew that well.

The heart works in mysterious ways, after all.

He leaned away again and looked down at her. Perhaps… perhaps if she wasn’t clearly dazed, affected by whatever powerful magic she just had unleashed… if she was in her right mind… perhaps Alucard would’ve let himself be carried by his stupid mortal heart again. Perhaps he wouldn’t have fought against his will to press his lips on hers.

But the battlefield was no place for it.

That would be irrational and Alucard had to be rational regardless of how he felt for her.

Alucard heard steps fast approaching. From the door beside him, two young soldiers emerged. They were clearly exhausted, one of them bled from the shoulder. Their eyes widened.

“Sir!” The black-haired one – the one that wasn’t bleeding – saluted him. “We’ll take care of her!”

“Don’t worry, nothing will happen to her!” The ginger one said, even though a frown of pain was plastered over his face.

Alucard narrowed his eyes… oh. He recognized these two from yesterday. They were some of the soldiers that flocked around her like pigeons after bread crumbs. They didn’t seem ill-intended, at least, so Alucard would have to trust them.

The vampire helped Ruby to sit, keeping his arm behind her back while the soldiers also approached. Yes, she was definitely groggy; she almost looked a bit drunk. He’d worry about that later.

A terrible feeling settled in his gut.

Alucard got up and looked ahead. There was a massive beam of red energy concentrated in the opposite part of the city; it made shivers run down his spine. It was Sekhmet’s power, and it immediately made him worry for Annette and Richter.

He stepped over the railing again and took the sword in his hand. He’d sort everything else out later. Right now, there was still a battle to be won.

And Alucard would not fail.

[ranticore]

some more horse guy fashions, specifically historical

erased the mandolin for this one goodbye mandolin i couldn't be bothered drawing you

so my thought process for this is like what would a society of, lbr, british ppl who are horses value and how would that translate into what they wear if they specifically don't have a taboo against nudity. these fashions are pre-florian conversion (florian was the guy who gave them all government-mandated shame) and considered traditional (the full coverage dresses are also traditional but to a post-florian period so those would be called like. idk. classical). they were still in use in the enclaves north of ironwall for quite a while. anyway returning to the point, the answer to 'what they value' is movement. in actual horses, herd hierarchy and social function is based off movement - free movement for animals for whom the flight response is so strong is an incredibly important thing. dominance in horses is expressed and reinforced by controlling and curtailing the movement of subordinates. for these people, free movement was enhanced by kinetic fashion - free-flowing garments like capes, loosely-pinned headgear with feathers and floaty cloth, and noise-generating devices like bells and chimes were all used to elaborate and enhance the appearance of somebody's gait. the overall look was mostly based off of morris dancers (pheasant feathers, bells on the legs, handkerchiefs) because i like the tie-in to suppression of folk dance by puritans. i think these guys would have some great folk dances

in much the same way trainers are just normal everyday footwear now, game kerchiefs/flags were worn in non-sports contexts because it suffused into the mainstream and became Cool. the flags were used in a game similar to tag rugby if you've ever seen that played (where snatching people's flags is used instead of full contact tackling, forcing someone who's been 'tagged' to stand still until the flags are returned). as i said before somewhere, centaur team sports go incredibly hard.

the tail ornaments were status symbols and in appearance a bit like the traditional show turnout of shire horses. woven grass and straw could be used for a temporary ornament like these, but metal or carved wood were really impressive, and very common gifts of favour between romantic partners. more flags could be hung there if you wanted to be really cool

variations of this style of mane décor were also employed (they loved their ribbons)

in the same time period, Ironwall fashion was a little bit different. These expensive caparisons were usually purchased secondhand after a real horse was done wearing them, with distinct front and back halves of different length. The garments would usually have the original liveries removed and replaced by generic religious iconography as few centaurs would ever have their own heraldry. Later, in the Georgian and Victorian eras, full coverage to the pasterns with a single undergarment was the only acceptable option (that's the classical style now) The rest of the picture is self-evident, but centaurs at the time wore additional... equipment on the withers which were called a variety of very colourful names but mostly referred to as gelding bars (as in, they will geld you if you sit on them). they were metal and spiked. these were introduced by the florian government to discourage the grossly inappropriate contact of one person's legs around another. previously there was no great taboo against riding on a centaur's back, it wasn't super common but nobody was like "this is basically public sex" until our pal centaur cromwell i mean florian came along and decided this was the work of the devil. young people were also made to wear these to discourage the homosocial behaviour very common to the mid-20s age groups of both sexes, and they also had a place in preventing stallions from wrestling (ironically increasing the danger of their fights because well now all we can do is stand back and kick). the wearing of these devices was mandatory. headcoverings were not strictly necessary, and neither were fully-wrapped tails, but some especially devout citizens took to it quite well.

[edges-of-night]

Hii! <3

I wanted to request imagines for reader taking care of the lotr characters (preferably all, but if that’s too much then at least the women and maybe Aragorn and Faramir too) when they’re sick/injured for whatever reason

(I love your imagines so much, the way you characterize them all is so perfectly amazing💜)

Thank you for your kind words! I did all of my usual characters because I love hurt/comfort and sick!fic scenarios that much haha! I hope you will enjoy your post ♡

Have a great weekend everybody!

CW: injuries and illnesses, mention of blood

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

While Aragorn’s heroic sacrifice didn’t cost him his life, it took a heavy toll on him. Lucky for him, you’ve spoken often enough about medicinal herbs and healing practices – you are able to take great care of him, bedded on his white linens. Even when he is still too weak to speak, Aragorn will hold your gentle hand.

.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

You return so often to Arwen’s bedside that you wonder if it would be easier to just stay – but you know that privacy and rest are just as important as her wish to hold your hand. Whenever you’re with her, you tend to her wounds or read her passages from her favourite book to make her smile, which Arwen appreciates immensely. As she rests, she plans on properly kissing you as soon as she’s healthy.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir hates that a common cold has him chained to the bed for over a week now. But he’d lie if he said he didn’t enjoy you taking care of him – even though you do tease him and his constantly red nose from time to time. It’s all in good fun though, and he cannot wait to hold and kiss you again!

.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

When Lord Elrond returned to Rivendell injured, your heart skipped a beat – he is the most skilled Elvish healer around – who else could treat the gaping, magical wound in his side? The honour is bestowed on you, and you master it despite your nervous mind. Nothing is greater encouragement than finally seeing Elrond’s summer eyes greet you again ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

The Rohirrim have all kinds of names for the strange fever that has befallen their dear Éomer – but no methods of healing. They consider it an impossible challenge for you to tame his feverish, sweaty body and nonsense mumblings. But, somehow, the horse lord calms whenever you reach his bedside, sighing when you change the wet cloths on his forehead and rest your hand on his chest.

.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Initially, Éowyn thinks nothing of the cut she got during sword lessons. But days of ignoring the wound on her hand could put her in grave danger, you know that – and thus offer to take a look and do what you can. At first, Éowyn protests, but she falls silent as soon as you turn her hand in yours, unaware of how soft her expression grows… She admires your medical knowledge, too! “Is there at all something you cannot do, you marvellous creature?”

.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

It takes days for Faramir to wake up. Many others believe him doomed and have given up on sitting by his side, trying new herbs and waters, only to see his crystal blue eyes open once more. But you have the matter-of-factly patience of a boat pushing its way through a deadly ocean. And indeed, on a moonlit night, Faramir’s gentle gaze awaits when you return to his side, whispering, “Thank you for believing in me, my love.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Sometimes you wonder if you are the only person to have consideration for both the physical and the mental wounds Frodo has endured. You always make sure he’s fine and support him when thoughts of the big scar on his chest sends him to dark places inside his mind. You both know that those wounds take much more time to heal than the cut itself, and Frodo is more than glad to have you by his side. To soothe him, you caress the scar.

.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Ever since a mysterious malady has befallen Lady Galadriel, Lothlórien is in turmoil. No one would even let you near her – until she ordered her guards away, to allow you to treat her with your medical and arcane knowledge. In fact, you become the only one she wishes to see in her elegant rooms at all. Despite her current weakness, her ethereal beauty and soft smiles make it hard for you to concentrate…

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Out of breath, you hurry to Gandalf’s beside with that one legendary flower needed to cure him. He insists you be the one to prepare the potion, too. Day and night, you try to perfect his medicine, always worried his state might get worse. When Gandalf finally drinks your potion, the wound on his chest closes magically. But it’s nothing to Gandalf, who has trusted you entirely: “I never doubted you for a moment, my dear.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

After Gimli’s accident in the mine, you were right by his side to ensure his head injury wouldn’t get much worse. His headache is hurting badly though, and your proud Dwarf is but a shadow of himself. He knows rest would be best for him, but it’s hard for him to stay away from work and banquets alike. Still, he appreciates that you pamper him with his favourite baked goods and healing kisses on his head ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir is not an easy patient, but that doesn’t stop you from treating his catastrophic shoulder, which he has ignored for days on his way through the woods of Lórien. Spread onto linen sheets beneath you, he grunts and cringes – as much as his half-dead stone face can, that is – under both your touch and your harsh words. But deep down, he knows you were simply worried – and honestly, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with that!

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

It seemed inevitable that Legolas would someday break a leg because of his acrobatic archery skills, and yet you are surprised. Elves heal quickly, but Legolas suffers greatly under his involuntary immobility. You help him by recounting his favourite quest stories and eventually by supporting his first tentative steps outside, which he thanks you for with the stormiest embraces ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry thinks he can walk of anything – even an injured knee. He doesn’t want you to think of him as weak or unable to take care of himself. But even Merry can only play down a limp for so long. Truth be told, he is actually relieved that he no longer has to hide the pain, and that you spreading balm on his knee is no ordeal but in fact a very sweet gesture.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin has been sneezing and stumbling for days, eventually falling into bed with the biggest groan you have ever heard come out of him. He is a “suffering” patient and you know it. But while Pippin greatly enjoys you pampering him with food, tea and blankets, he secretly cannot wait to take care of you in return – no matter if you’re sick or not! “It’s you’re not actually sick, or else I couldn’ave kissed you!”

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Gardening involves many dangers, and although Sam has been practising it since childhood, he eventually hurts himself on his gardening knife. The cut is deep and won’t stop bleeding, but you are quick to bandage it and remind him to change the fabric once a day. But Sam has trouble keeping his thoughts straight, when all he can think about is you holding his hand in yours, all close…

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The fathers of Rome

Marcus/Geta/Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, crying, kissing a bit emotional, birth, family issues, written before the movie came out characters may be different

Summary : Two Emperors and the general of the army all had important duties and responsibilities but by the grace of the gods and with devotion of love the three most influential men find themselves with the news of a pregnant wife. Each of them has a slightly different approach to taking care of his pregnant wife and the birth, because a birth could always go wrong and the gods were rarely merciful.

info : I wanted to write something sweet for the three of them and I know that they could be good fathers (if you romanticize a little bit) now have fun reading and have a nice day.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus Acacius

It was thought that the battlefield was his home and the sword was his wife but few knew that in a vast field of olive trees and wheat fields stood a large villa in which a woman lived with a small household and prayed between her altars to the gods that her beloved husband would return home safely.

A story of a leader of the army of Rome and his wife a former oracle who met him, foretold him his future yet his eyes, his voice and his being would not depart from her own prophecies.

An initial love of safety in times of peace, she appreciated his protective nature in a world that belonged almost entirely to Rome, danger still lurked everywhere. He, in turn, was captured by her grace and care, this devotion to those in need or to himself when she waited on him to heal his wounds and the two felt safe and complete together.

A husband who rushed home on horseback so fast he rode to her from the support posts when the emperors called him back the sleep was won she saw the shadow on the horizon from the balcony and even mounted her horse to meet him, ,,My heart" he embraced her each time still seeing the dirt and emaciation on him after being away for months sometimes years.

His hands closed around her, an embrace, a heartfelt kiss, tears in her eyes when she finally saw him again before they rode back to the villa together, she helped him bathe and wash her before he pulled her into the water himself, not wanting to leave her side and unable to do so for too long, he had missed her, not only her lovely eyes, her voice that he loved to listen to, her hair that he ran through and her hands that he clasped every time he wanted to be close to her but couldn't in public.

But with such intimacy comes love and with love comes desire, desire for each other, desire for each other's bodies and this desire was pursued many nights and on some bright days they were also close until he had to leave again, for the next raid not knowing that only two months after he was gone he received a letter with scrawled writing full of excitement.

A letter that moved him to tears when he read it for the first time, ,,I'm going…to be a father" he mumbled to himself in his tent above and above he realized that love for each other would grow into a life, a little baby that would look like both of them and a big smile stayed on his lips as he hurriedly wrote back to her expressing his joy and his heart, how excited he was himself, how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and praying to the gods that the battle would be won quickly.

The letters changed from weekly to daily as her pregnancy progressed and he received drawings of what she looked like, along with dried flowers she was growing that were made into tea and tinctures to help her body.

The couple were happy with words, kisses seemed to spread across the infinity and she was sent a piece of clothing by Marcus and remembered that he would return to her and their child.

Everything went well until he received the letter that she would go into labor in the next few days, the war took longer than expected, but it was the first and only time he gave his sergeant the lead and started the journey back on his own responsibility, which would take several days, but he had to go to her the fear and worry that something could go wrong that he would lose her or that the child was not healthy.

Fear and worry clutched at his heart as he drove his horse faster and faster as fast as he could back home where he burst through the front door and heard the screams of pain that scared him to death calling her name, he hurried up the stairs to the shared bedroom where he found her crouching by the bed, apparently lying down would lead to complications.

,,Love I'm-I'm here everything will be fine" he murmured hastily pressing kisses on her hand which she immediately grasped painfully and screamed again as she tried to get their child out of her, he could still see the love for him in her tear-stained eyes on her sweat-smeared body they were both covered in blood from the death of the battlefield and the birth of new life as she continued to push and the midwife helped her too.

She screamed out his name her pain and Marcus became more and more afraid of losing her with every pain she had as she continued to hold her giving her courage and hope when his own hands trembled as he heard the ,,I can see the head my lady keep pushing" from the midwife who did everything she could to make the birth as easy as possible.

,,You can do it my heart I'm here push again" he whispered to her as she looked at him in pain he saw the fear and yet the deniability that he was with her before she let out one last scream and he heard a bright scream next to blood splattering on the floor, a bright scream that echoed and seemed never to stop.

,,Congratulations, a healthy baby boy!" the older woman announced, dabbing the newborn baby lightly before wrapping him in linen so he could be held better, while Marcus helped his wife back onto the bed, covering her lightly and giving her a long kiss, ,,I am so very proud my darling," he whispered placing a kiss on her head, before taking his son in his arms, those light, dark hairs on the delicate head belonging to him but the pretty eyes were hers.

His eyes filled with tears of pride and reassurance as he stroked his son and gave her the little bundle she clutched, ,,A piece of love from both of us," she uttered, crying with happiness as she looked into her son's curious face and he chuckled at her as the two parents spent the next few hours together on the bed with pure happiness as the little baby went from laughing with gurgling laughter, to crying and finally falling asleep exhausted in the equally exhausted arms of his parents.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Geta

The younger but stronger emperor of Rome, the warrior and leader who did not subordinate himself and enjoyed the Coloseum. A young man whose golden lure was not the only thing that seemed to be gold, he bought and made whatever he wanted, be it new armor, a sword, an army or even slaves that he could kill or do anything else with.

But in his life, his only blood besides his older brother Caracalla, there was only one marriage predestined by his father that he should marry her.

Pretty, coming from wealth and power but not a woman he had chosen, it was like fate, his father had decided like a god on the life of his son but it had been like that for some time now and as much as the couple was celebrated in public, the false smiles and hand-holding of the inner circle was seen through, they were both torn.

As much as they tried to understand each other and she appreciated his gift of attention to Rome, as much as he thought she was pretty and appreciated her patience as a true virtue, they never seemed to be in the same mood. There never seemed to have been a thread of fate.

,,Can love ever arise from a loveless duty?" she had once asked him when he wanted to retire in the evenings, avoiding her to occupy himself with his important things that his older brother wasn't interested in and always finding an excuse to avoid her.

She saw the guilt disappear from his eyes in the blink of an eye, saw him straighten the rings on his fingers before he replied with a ,,Love comes from the heart… a duty from the words of others" before he left her room and avoided her for another night, a night that followed one after the other until one day they attended his brother's wedding, Caracalla also married a highborn woman and gave the Roman Empire its first heir, as it should be - it was all just a matter of time.

A fact that Geta also knew, even if with a smile his bright eyes wished nothing but death for his sister-in-law, a plague that she and his brother would have to endure,

,,I want to see you in my chamber after the feast and that is not a question" he murmured to his wife who looked at him with an uneasy look, she had seen the looks, knew what was going on in her husband and yet in a horrible fate she felt the duty in her heart she had to bear him an heir.

The festivities dragged on for a long time, but with wine that overwhelmed her senses she distracted herself from what was going to happen, what he was going to do just because his place in the order of precedence would be changed, she followed his words, made a simple excuse and retired to her husband's room.

She had also heard the wine on his lips as that night began with a kiss, senses dazed by wine and yet there was still a kind of tenderness in his touch despite his hatred, she still held him close to her heart, something she clung to as hope.

A hope and love a lust she would not have expected from him overcame the nights of nights she saw for the first time his jealousy coupled with love,.

,,I know you are trying my love" he told her again and again his hand placed on her tree day after day she seemed to realize if she was pregnant until the day one of the midwives and his healer confirmed she was pregnant and a few tests brought the uncertainty to an end.

She still couldn't believe it was true, she felt his arms around her body and words of praise but double-edged words coming at her as Geta looked at her with a look that told her he had never felt more love for her than now, ,,My Empress pregnant with my heir" he murmured and immediately let the news spread everywhere rubbing it straight into the face of his brother and especially his sister-in-law who was not yet pregnant.

The time after that was filled with happiness and yet paranoia, he was only more attached to her, paying attention to everything and having the room for the child decorated with her taste, choosing the furniture and the colors, ,,The room of the future emperor," he announced to her as she leaned on him and saw the room with pictures of heroic deeds and old legends showing victories.

,,A truly impressive room," she admitted and felt her hands relax on her now round belly as time passed, the moons and suns came quickly and her pregnancy increased, the closer she got to the birth the more excited Geta seemed to become, insisting on being present the whole time…an insistence she kept, only a few moons later her contractions came and the palace was filled with screams and weeping.

Geta shouted at the midwives and healers to kill them all or he would kill them personally while he supported his wife with words and did not flinch when her bloodied hand reached for him, ,,You are doing very well I am with you dear, with our son you will make it" he told her again and again kissing her forehead and giving her hopeful kisses until he shouted more death threats until the news came that it was almost done.

The last screams were full of pain and she clung to him even more, the pain increasing with the thought that had plagued her for months and her heart stopped when she heard the voice of the midwife saying ,,My emperor it's a…girl" and the room slowly fell silent, only the shrill cry of the baby could be heard, a baby without the right sex, a girl no heir.

Her heavy breathing and the tears rolling down her cheeks as he pulled away from her with a jerk, she was supported by her midwives who helped her onto the bed and took care of her as best they could while she watched Geta take her daughter in his arms and turn his back on her, not seeing how he looked with this "disappointing" birth.

,,Everyone out now!" he shouted making the little baby cry again and yet everyone complied, ,,Geta I'm-I'm sorry" she started trying to get to him when she heard a sniffle and paused, at first she thought it was the baby but it giggled and a clearing of the throat was heard before he turned to her.

Her worry vanished when she saw his expression it was pride, it was appreciation it was happiness, ,,The future of the empire an empress from the love of her parents…she will become a goddess" he murmured and came to his wife in bed put the baby in her arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the head while he held his wife's hand and gently stroked it.

He was not disappointed he had gotten something so much better, he had gotten love and a wife who was everything to him a family of his own the only imperial family of ancient Rome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Caracalla

The elder son, the first emperor to rule with his younger but much more suitable brother, a pair of brothers who ruled together and brought Rome to the top of the world with its army and its strength, but above all a young man with a woman at his side.

A woman, the Empress of Rome, beautiful, handsome and caring, popular with the people and not underestimated in politics because of her own country of origin and family…but a young woman without children.

A woman without children from an age when she would not be empress she would take other jobs nor have a choice but an empress was not a politician, a warrior or even a farmer an empress was and should always be a mother first so it has always been but not with her.

The wedding was moons ago and even if it was a little difficult at first their hearts were close she loved her playful husband who was always loving to her and had a penchant for entertainment of any kind.

As long as Carcalla wasn't bored, he knew that his brother was concerned with everything else, including politics, for which he had little taste when it wasn't a matter of attack or execution, she could only entertain him by acting, playing or playing in the arena, and as much as they both enjoyed it, she became more unhappy.

,,Your smile is fading, don't you like it? I can hire a new actor or buy new slaves right away," the blonde immediately offered and waved the troupe out so he could talk to his wife who had been laughing all evening, her hand detached from her belly and handed him the parchment he had skimmed over in the morning.

A parchment with the emperor's seal, a message from his brother that Geta had taken a wife of his own on a state visit, ,,The betrothal and wedding, what's with that, starlet?" he asked, tossing the paper carelessly aside before rising and going to the table of fruit and helping himself to the grapes.

He didn't understand the seriousness, the worry or even what it meant for the future, not that they hadn't slept together often, the wedding night had been consummated and they had often shared the bed but it had never led to anything, she rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand and seeking his gaze.

,,Cara. ..you're still the older one, a duty is on me and I don't know if I can ever give you…an heir" she said the lump in her throat almost cutting off her voice hoping he would understand.

She saw the humor fade from his face and he considered before he gave an almost stunned expression and grabbed both her hands hastily, squeezing them and locking them in a hasty kiss over and over until she broke away to catch her breath, ,,Please I-it may well be me…all this he may be the politician but I am the elder, the first and you do your duty every day you are with me.

,,I leave no room for doubt, do you understand?" he demanded and she found his hopefulness, confidence and euphoria truly inspiring that a small smile crept onto her lips before he took her in his arms the imperial couple found themselves together again that night, taking help from potions, tinctures and many other forbidden practices that they hardly left the bedchamber together for the next few days.

It was clear to everyone what was happening behind the closed doors but after trying and trying this hope was to pay off with her first discomfort and the first change, ,,Congratulations my Emperor you are finally pregnant" the healer announced as he listened to the results of the test and her report, her tears wetting the tunic of her husband who hugged her and twirled around and was all the more pleased.

The news also pleased the people and even when she saw the looks on Geta's face and his wife she knew she had done her duty she would give Rome an heir, she had not disappointed Caracalla, ,,You can never let me down everything will go well the gods are with us" he told her reading she put up stowage in the child's room and her own for the next moons so that she was protected and the child inside her.

The protection seemed to help Geta until a point, and everything seemed to go well until the day of the birth, when blood and tears covered the floor, ,,What's wrong with my wife?" Caracalla who was holding her hand on the bed but the dagger at his side seemed to slaughter anyone who did anything wrong.

He kissed her hands and fingers, tried to cool her forehead with cool cloths and tell her again that she was doing well, ,,It seems that the Empress is pregnant with twins," said one of the midwives who had already brought out the size of the belly and the prolonged birth.

It was news she needed to cry out and Caracalla was filled with joy which he only showed when she continued to scream and push with the help of Caracalla who got into a kneeling position and the moments of pain merged until the first child was pushed out, ,,A boy!" the midwife shouted and took care of the little creature while the younger one continued to hold on to her husband.

The blonde gave her a proud kiss on the head, ,,Do you hear that? Our son love you can do it I am here" he murmured over and over until another cry from her side and a second bright cry told them that it was done that night a boy and his sister were born, Caracalla proudly and happily held the little babies and immediately spoke to them while praising them over and over.

The little family was not only complete but was now a little conversation of their own for each other, they had brought themselves together through love and received two sweet little gifts because they believed that their love was stronger than anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@morallyinept

@parvanovel -> I konw pregnancy is one thing but it's fluff so have fun :)

@sweetpascal

[humpster35]

The Five Senses.

I feel like the boys are such like, people who get stimulated by sight. They would need to actually look at what they’re working with. Now as I was writing this I also thought about how they’re literally their things in the deaf, mute and blind challenges—but like different senses.

divider from @cursed-carmine

Sight:

Chris loves ass so much, this man has to stare at yours in every setting. No matter if it’s during sex, a walk, horse riding, laying on your stomach and even when you’re peeing. He would wear sunglasses in public just so he could secretly stare at your ass—without other ppl making it weird ofc. I do think that without the sexual aspect, Chris is so stunned by your beauty that he makes it his mission to wake up early, just to stare at your beautiful face.

Matthew however(notice how i love calling him by his full name) he loves to stare at your lips and boobs. I said in my other post that they all have an oral fixation so I think that Matt gets stimulated by watching you chew—but when it comes to your boobs, he buys you tops that specifically highlight them. No it doesn’t matter what size they are. Matt’s so infatuated by you—he can’t believe that you were born so perfect. He’s the type to call anything you do or wear, perfect.

Nick has no shame in staring at his guy. He’s so proud of who he’s dating that he wants to take in every single little detail about them. Nicks eyes are every expressive so I feel like this would also go along with him showing his love by staring at you. Nick is always holding his boyfriend by his face—he wants him as close to him as he can. He would kiss all over his man’s face everyday.

Hearing:

We all know how Chris has an ear for music,he would find the perfect song for you guys and just you in general. Chris is always “all ears” when it comes to you, as much as this kid talks you would expect him to not ever let you get a word in—but that’s when he shuts up, when he’s around you. I feel like when Chris is with you and listening all the time that also improves his relationship with his brothers—like when they tell him to do something and he says he didn’t hear them. It would help Chris to remember more because he’s actually listening to people.

Matt is usually quiet, but I feel like when he hears how much you want him to open up more and express himself—that’s when he becomes more talkative. Matt would literally plan days where you guys can just sit and talk out every issue you may be having—most of the time he lets you speak because he wants to genuinely hear the sound of your voice. Matt has recordings of you saying different things, this helps him practice in the mirror on how to respond to people.

Nick is honestly so clingy and touchy with his person—he would lay his head on your chest just to hear you talk. He loves watching the way you pronounce certain words and even will mimic the way you say things. He put your voice in his phone—in case you needed siri or something. Nicks favorite thing about you is the way you sound, he’s from Boston so he definitely is open to different accents and sounds.

Touch:

Chris I feel is definitely the most huggable out of the three. It would honestly be like having a toddler all the time—Chris would be climbing all over you. Marylou would just laugh at you guys because she knows that’s exactly how he was when he was younger. Chris’s favorite thing to do is to sit you on his lap or hold you by the waist. His head is constantly snuggled into your body somehow—he wants to be in you(literally and physically.) Chris would rest his face between your legs bc it’s warm.

Matthew is so shy I think when it comes to touching. I think he wants to show that side of him obviously but when it’s the beginning of your relationship with him, he would take his time on touching. The furthest thing he would do is holding hands and hugging. Once you guys have an established relationship, then Matt is more likely to cuddle with you. He’s so silent and that’s what makes it so great for you—if you’re having a bad day or on your period, Matthew is right there shushing you—keeping you calm while his hands rub your belly and head. He’s a big head caressing guy—like his hugs would be the exact kind that Harry Styles give.

Nick is so so so so affectionate. His love language is definitely touch—this leads to him just laying across your lap or straddling it. Nicks body is always warm, he would hold you so tightly in his arms—even if he’s the little spoon. Nick wants his guy near him, he doesn’t wanna move without him—if you move then Nick moves.

Taste:

Chris has such good tastebuds, I feel like he would taste a snack before he hands it to you. He does this to make sure you’re gonna like it because he does not wanna disappoint you. Chris would lick at your cunt as if it was his last meal on earth, he knows how good he is at picking good tasting things—which is why he tastes you all the time. You would be given lollipops and pepsi to snack on while he’s doing something because he wants to make sure your tastebuds are always on and functioning.

Matt can always taste you on him. He literally owns your old lipstick because he loves how much it tastes whenever you guys kiss. Matt’s tongue is so fucking wet—when he’s putting you in your place and you’re just watching the rhythm, the way his mouth is moving—then you instantly get wet. He’s the type to lick you just because, it doesn’t have to be sexual but he loves you so much that he wants to eat you. Cuteness aggression.

Nick is the type to taste your cum on different diets, days and even when you’re sick. He would wanna compare them and see which one he likes the best—though he’s gonna swallow every drop every single time. His tongue works in overdrive to please you—your cock wouldn’t even be able to get up unless Nicks cat licking at your tip. He kisses you often, then would lick his lips afterwards. Nick loves the taste of a guys beard—it’s so manly to him.

Smell:

Chris always, always smells good. His natural body musk is what makes you so hot about him. I feel like Chris is the type to breathe in your pheromones then start ranting to you about evolution. He loves you so much—he wouldn’t mind if you’re shitting and had the door open tbh. It’s not gross in his eyes or nose, but he wouldn’t just smell the air like a weirdo—just if you happen to shit a lot..and the smell traveled…he wouldn’t mind it. He farts so much but I feel like he would hold them in for you. His hoodies always smell like his signature cologne mixed in with laundry detergent. He loves the smell of your pussy—his nose would be so deep in it that you would cum.

Matt is the known brother to smell good. He never smells bad even when he sweats—I feel like you would see him working out and literally inhale his body odor. Matt teases you if you’re musty and would jokingly sniff your underarms, but this would lead to him finding out that he’s attracted to your pheromones like a dog in heat. When you’re on your period—Matt weirdly finds the smell of your blood comforting to him, I do think that he would lowkey be the type to sniff panties but you ain’t here that from me. He would spray his cologne on your outfit so people know that you belong to him.

Nick smells like absolute heaven. If you thought Matt smelled good—then wait until Nick literally takes an everything shower with the products you gifted him and come over. I feel like Nick would allow you to spoil him with different colognes and even perfumes because he doesn’t discriminate. Nick will smell your balls all day everyday if he could—he loves how musky they can be. Once he’s done sucking you off, he would wanna smell your cum before tasting it. Nick is such a sucker for manly men that he loves loves when a man is working in the hot sun—then before you shower he gets to smell your musk.

Whew this was a long one. I hope you guys enjoy this—i know ppl from twitter are coming to my page to look and see what else i’m posting so for those, i hope you also enjoy it.

I will be taking a break unfortunately because of my health and mental state right now. It’s just a lot and I literally made this account to have fun I didn’t even expect ppl to enjoy the things I posted but they do, but obviously not everyone. I don’t get why some people have to go and rain on others parade.

Iloveyou guys, until next time

tag list🎀

@matthewssangel @mattsweethart @mattsweethrt @mattspillowprincess @mattsmedusa @riggysworld @regulaho @passionfruitchris @lyingonchris @liaisbroke @lezleeferguson-120 @lifecansmd @lvrsturniolo @nickssidewitch @natesfavoritehoe @thenickgirl @theyluvivi @tezzzzzzzz @yourfavejules @obsessedwiththesturniolos @owensbabygirl @chrissonnyangel @chrissleftshoe @chrissturnioloslvt @chriss-slut @chrisbratt333 @ev1ldeadboy @eeyoresturnz @ellbowmacaroni @eyesonmattyb @kenah-sturniolo @kayskreativeideas @kahlidosenotread @chrismalfoy @warmwiskeyeyes @whore4chris @alesturniolos @ph3ebssturniolo

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Petnames w/ Male toons

ignoring the mains. the mains will get their own part hold your horses/lh but i did have some people complaining about it in the pocky line so im repeating it here- these are going to be in groups

notes: gn toon reader, gn names will be offered if needed/available, short and sweet, no like these are going to be REALLY short because its literally just what you call each other, prepare for some repeats, blot isnt here hes going to get his own solo post once his wiki is filled because his dialogue is near impossible to read fast enough in game cws: none

BOXTEN

They call you: honestly he feels too awkward calling you anything that isnt your name. any cute endearments feel weird coming out of his mouth and thats enough to make him... not use them... poor guy

You call them: oh he melts under a lot of the stuff you call him- sure a lot of them are more like passing compliments but god damn it if you turn it into a name hes going to be wrapped around your finger; sweetie, sweet boy, smarty, things like that

COSMO

They call you: he likes calling you a shortened version of your name, if your name can be shortened! he did try to call you something baking related but hes yet to find something that sounds nice... cupcake feels silly, sweetie is too generic, honey pie.... is nice...

You call them: honestly you probably stole the cupcake thing from him after he tried it on you. sure hes a roll cake but its still cute! sweet based names are a given too!

FINN

They call you: oh he definitely calls you sugar, alongside any fish related things he can work in. if youre fem hes going to call you his gill, and if youre masc hes going to find something else for sure!

You call them: you try to match him with the fish puns but... youre kind of beat in that department but hes going to adore whatever attempt you give him! dork is used affectionately and he loves it

GLISTEN

They call you: gorgeous, babe, and a variant of your name is its possible! he kind of... stops using your actual name in favor of an endearment

You call them: pretty boy, handsome or really anything that uplifts him is going to generally have a positive effect on him

GOOB

They call you: he calls you a little bit of everything but of course hes going to focus on the ones that he knows give a positive reaction from you! he likes calling your purdy sometimes- pretty is nice but purdy is unique

You call them: goofball makes him feel silly and he likes it- its similar to his name but different in a good way... and he knows he can be a little goofy sometimes! sweetie and sweetiepie also make him feel a certain way

LOOEY

They call you: your name. hes... not very good at coming up with pet names and if theres anything in specific you want him to call you hes going to use it in an instant- i may say this a few times but theres a certain closeness and intimacy in using someones name in softer moments

You call them: looloo sometimes makes him turn his head at you- and you dont miss the slight wag of his tail when you call him that. pretty boy makes him splutter on his words but he likes it

RAZZLE

They call you: sunshine is his go to, even if you dont quiiiiiiiite have a sunshine personality- he thinks its cute! love is another one he uses, dear, dearest. its a little more on the dramatic side when he uses it but hes a fan of theatre, its a given!

You call them: sunny to match his name for you makes him giggle, but he might lightly tease you to think outside the box... not that he hates the name! lover does make him melt on the spot though

DAZZLE

They call you: for similar reasons as looey, he tends to call you by your name... but hes more open in expressing that he finds simply calling you by your name feels more intimate

You call them: hon makes him melt, he cant explain it but it makes him feel nice.... its simple short and its not too out there, draws less attention... not that he feels ashamed of your love of course, he just doesnt like names that might turn heads

RODGER

They call you: love, lovely, and dear are his top three names for you- but hes another "he just calls you by your name" person especially when in the presence of others. he likes to keep a professional look to the other toons

You call them: lover makes his glass fog up a little thats how you know he likes it! handsome also makes him feel a little proud of himself too, might catch him puffing out his chest too

SHRIMPO

They call you: he doesnt like using names. he thinks theyre stupid. okay well thats a lie he does use name but theyre not cute petnames theyre like. name calling names. dating him is going to call for baby steps but at least theres.... less rage... volume... harshness... when he calls you something

You call them: he doesnt like getting names in return.... so its probably a good idea to hold off on them until the whole petname thing is figured out and worked through... baby steps!