#Long beach wine festival

[wandasaura]

GODDAMN BLAZE IN THE DARK

summary — when the ultimate arises of being allowed to orgasm or being allowed to relieve your bladder, the only thing you can do is hope to god that you can be the good girl she expects you to be

warning(s) — established relationship, dom/sub dynamics, alcohol consumption, piss kink, holding/control kink, fingering, teasing, begging, orgasm delay, degradation, praise kink, eventual orgasm, condescending tones/elements, domestic banter, men/minors dni

kinktober

The weather was finally beginning to turn as October earned its keep in the festive beach town you resided within the borders of, no longer blisteringly hot, but rather soft and quaint as a breeze ruffled leaves and blew discarded litter down the streets of Westview. The aesthetic of the world had begun to shift with the incoming breeze of cool air as well, replacing vibrant pinks and muted blues with burnt orange shades and deep charcoal hues. Wanda herself had fallen into the fall frenzy, adding decorative pillows to the couch and styrofoam pumpkins to the mantle despite her mentality that decorating for single day holidays was pointless and a waste of hard earned money. You knew she adored the whimsical magic of Halloween, even if she rolled her eyes each time you suggested watching a film inspired by the spookiest month of the year. That’s just how she was. Pointedly difficult merely to get a rise out of you, and it worked each time you begged to watch Hocus Pocus only to receive an eye roll and an exaggerated huff of faux exasperation. She always caved, always cuddled up on the couch or in bed, but it was never easy to get her there, nor was it easy to keep her interest as her hands began to wander down your tantalizing body and mark its claim on your most sensitive areas. 

Tonight, as you cuddled up close, beneath a thin throw blanket printed with jack-o-lanterns and the silhouettes of cartoon bats, it had been painfully easy. She hadn’t protested when you suggested a movie night, hadn’t rolled her eyes when you turned on a film from your childhood that was admittedly horrible at best and downright insulting at worst, and she hadn’t even huffed in overdramatic defeat when you’d turned the subtitles on because that made any viewing experience ten times better. In fact, she’d been nothing but pleasant and willing. She’d collected your drinks from the kitchen, gathered your chosen snacks from the pantry, and lit a candle on the coffee table that had the entire house smelling like sweet notes of subtle maple and addictive vanilla. 

Cautiously, you peaked over your shoulder at her side profile illuminated by flickering auburn light from the three wick candle providing a gentle ambience of mood lighting around you, the dancing flame with the slightest twinges of blue and yellow embedded within its fiery existence reflected off of her emerald stare so peacefully that you nearly accepted the gentle nature of the night ahead of you without question, but you knew better. You’d been with Wanda for years, seen her through some of the most trying and difficult periods of her life, and subsequently some of the best and softest. You knew that whenever something was easy with her, then there was something else up her sleeve just waiting to be pulled. She kept things interesting, always had and always would, but you’d become rather perceptive to her motives after such a long game of cat and mouse. 

She had you pinned against her chest as you lounged on the couch she’d affectionately decorated with throw blankets and decorative pillows, one arm looped around your waist while the other held onto her glass of chilled white wine, the stem carefully weaved between her fingers in intricate delicacy that you hadn’t quite mastered no matter the years you spent attempting to copy her mannerisms. She dripped with class and exquisite wealth, despite being brought up in a country suffering with poverty. There was an intoxicating energy to her, one that compelled even her most passionate haters to surrender to her spell and seek to know her personally. You’d never quite gotten over that alluring charm about her, but she’d made it painfully obvious that you were the only one she wanted to bring home and into bed each time you left the house, so you didn’t dwell much on the simple fact that Wanda Maximoff could have any man or woman she desired without so much as lifting a finger to flirtatiously wave. 

As you reached for your glass of wine that had been thoughtlessly left abandoned on the coffee table besides the slowly burning candle, her arm pressed against your bladder just enough to make an uncomfortable feeling travel through your nerves. Willing to ignore it for a while longer, not wanting to leave her soothing company or risk your film being turning off due to her unrelenting boredom, you stayed against her chest, now gripping your own glass with delicacy, although you didn’t quite have the placement of your fingers right enough to have replicated her eloquence. You’d thought that Wanda was unaware of your subtle wince, however, she’d so easily detected the shift in your body language and the way you maneuvered within her hold to alleviate some of the pressure she was intentionally pressing into your bladder. 

When her hand fell to your thigh, her wine glass set to the side as she had only a couple of sips left and didn’t particularly enjoy being drunk without your lighthearted energy to match her pace, you shivered with anticipation, knowing all too well where her soft touch would lead if you played your cards right. Well, you had thought you knew all the moves she was going to make, but when she dug her fingertips into the crevice of your thigh without warning or prior teasing, tickling the sensitive skin that she knew was a no-go zone on your best day, let alone your worst, you truly began to realize what you were in for. A soft whine slipped off of your lips as you wriggled against her, but all she did was tighten her hold on you and coax your whines with sweet kisses against the shell of your ear, her fingers still teasing and tickling your sensitive skin with passion. 

“Wanda.” You gasped when one hand splayed firmly against your sensitive belly, and the other moved beneath your soft gingham print sleep shorts to cup your core beneath the frilly underwear you’d picked out that morning. Your attire was nothing special, nothing sexy nor new, but that’s what Wanda preferred. There were times when lingerie worked, where it brought a level of excitement and newness to your already exhilarating sexcapades, but Wanda was sweet, she preferred you as you were, with no reason to constantly be trying to change your comfortability and appearance. Her boldness had always been a turn on, and as you sat trapped between her chest and her possessive arms, you felt merely like a toy at her disposal. 

“What’s wrong, my angel?” She cooed against your earlobe, teeth taking claim over that sensitive inch of skin that always provoked your desire to rise to uncontrollable levels. She knows what’s wrong though, it’s not the first time you’ve walked into this trap, but it’s been months since she’s laid it out, months since she’s been so cruel and condescending that you don’t know whether to plead for leniency or for her fingers to claim the sweetest softest spaces of your intimacy. “Hm, be a good girl and tell me.”

“I have to pee.” The words burned your pride as they slipped into the air, your cheeks twinging a flush shade of pink more aligned for the pallet of summertime than fresh autumn. You wriggled in her grasp, attempting to set yourself free, but all you accomplished was adding more pressure against your already sensitive bladder, intensifying the sensation of urgency within your nerves. “Wands, I have to pee.” 

Your desperation did nothing to quell her cruelty, rather it feebly landed in the near silent room apart from the voices slipping out of the speakers in the ceiling. “Well that’s too bad, sweetheart. I like having you here. Surely you can wait a little while longer, can’t you? I’m not ready to let you go just yet.” 

Her fingers slid through your folds, collecting warm, sticky arousal that pooled at your entrance. You whimpered in need, desperate need that turned your nerves cold with pleasure but warmed your skin deliciously to the touch. You writhed in her lap, torn between staying still, ignoring the pressure being applied to your belly, and squirming against her hold until you could sink onto those tantalizing digits and claim your pleasure. You didn’t have the luxury of choosing, she was already deciding your fate before you could strategize a game plan to secure dominance. You never won when you attempted to overpower her, but it was fun to have those unrefined moments of vicious pleasure while they lasted. 

You gasped a broken whine of pleasure when her fingers dug themselves into your core with one finite movement, buried to the hilt if the chill of her rings laying heavily against your pulsating clit pebbled with anticipation was any indication. The pads of her fingers pressed against the softest section of your walls, sparkling sharp sparks of pleasure to shoot up your spine and reverberate off the lining of your sensitive bladder. You gasped again, a breathy, whiney sound that was entirely pathetic but lewdly sweet, as Wanda prodded and pressed against that spongy spot continuously, her fingers curling and scissoring apart within your slick velvety walls. 

You writhed in intense pleasure, squirming against her tight, near clinical hold as she kept you confined and at her mercy, only able to take whatever she gave you when she felt like it. The sensations sparking to life in your bladder and core were unimaginable fireworks of pleasure that drowned you in their intensity, covering you in pleasure derived from her; her touch, her words, her eloquently dominant energy. She covered you in her effortlessly, and you surrendered to the flames of passion without hesitation. 

“I can’t hold it! I can’t hold it! Wanda! I have to pee! Please let me cum!” As torn as your body was between remaining still and writhing in passionate movements, your mind was an even playing field of indecision. You had to pee, that was undeniable, it was steadily beneath the surface of pleasure, tethered to your orgasm in a terrifying way, but you need to cum, as her fingers scissors your pussy apart, massaged that spongy area within your walls, as her rings nudged and thumped against your clit, you were being driven closer and closer to that beautiful edge of vulnerability and pleasure. 

“One or the other.” Wanda’s voice was level, calculated. She wasn’t bothered by your desperation, nor was she feeling generous. Your bones grew cold with anticipation as you shook your head, but it did nothing to win you sympathy. Her fingers that had already been hammering into you at an unforgiving pace took an even harsher approach, and the squelching sounds of pleasure and arousal filled the room and joined the existing symphony of a crackling flame and animated characters. “You can either cum on my fingers like a good girl, or you can go pee and not receive anything. And, I know this slutty cunt never misses an opportunity to cum, so stop acting like you can’t handle what I decide to do to your body, and sit still.” 

Your body couldn’t help but oblige by her demand, and with muffled whimpers, your body stopped fighting against her hold. She laughed tauntingly, pressing harder against your bladder. You knew the moment you leaked even the slightest bit against her fingers, her touch would be withdrawn, whether you were in the middle of a blissful orgasm or just on the cusp of falling over the edge. She wouldn’t care. She wouldn’t show you even the slightest bit of moisture. She had made her ultimatum clear, there would be nothing that could change that. 

“I’m close! I’m close!” As your orgasm built, so did that pressure in your bladder that was slowly becoming unbearable. You could only will your body to allow you control, but before you could slip off the edge, fall into a sea of butterflies and pleasure, her fingers were slowing down, her palm pressing harder against your bladder in return for the loss of pleasure. 

“Hold it.” She demanded cruelly, voice level and dominating, only luring you further beneath her captivating spell that had you submitting unregretfully. You did as best as you could, your eyes pinched shut as you fought to fight off your orgasm, but eventually it all caught up to you, and your mindless babbling became indistinguishable pleas and desperate begging. “So pretty when you squirm for me.” 

“I-I can’t! Please! Please! I need to cum! I need to pee! Let me cum! Please, Wanda! Please!” Finally forcing the words off of your tongue, you only hoped they were enough to convince her to be kind. Minutes passed until they became a blur of sensations that ripped you apart from the inside, and when you thought you were going to break, just as you were on the cusp of deteriorating, everything started up again and instead of being denied, instead of loitering on the edge of bliss, Wanda granted you permission. You came with a high pitched moan, squirming and writhing against her hold and the second she worked you down from that blissful edge, you were bolting toward the bathroom, followed by her footsteps and taunting laughter. “Three glasses of wine and you decide to pull this shit! Wanda, I am going to kill you one day!” 

“That’s how you repay someone who just gave you the best orgasm of your life?! You threaten them?!” Wanda laughed menacingly, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom as she watched you attempt to relieve your bladder, although that was slightly difficult in your post-orgasm state, which only made your frustration double. 

“Second best! Nothing will beat last Christmas.” You threw her a nasty glare, finally able to pee as your muscles began to loosen and return to normal, although every nerve in your body was still alight with blissful pleasure. 

“You’re only making me want to compete with myself here, darling.” She smirked, licking her fingers clean of your arousal in a tantalizing power move that had your cheeks flushing but your eyes rolling. 

“You’re impossible.”

[sluttysnowangel666]

Weeping Waters - cregan stark x reader

this story was inspired by this post!! i suggest you follow the op they were kind enough to let me write a story inspired by it❤️ @weirdiingwoman

summary: whilst on a trip for a tourney to celebrate queen rhaenyra’s succession to the throne, lord stark brings his child hood friend to keep him company. however a blistering hot day sends the northerner’s searching for relief from the sun. when they come across a hidden spot on the beach, cregan agrees to stand guard and keep watch so the lady can swim.

cw: au, no dance of dragons or war just cregan and his lady being secretly in love, smut as always, cregan is a SIMP for his lady just down historically bad for her , loss of virginity, fingering, friends to lovers, beach sex

“Gods, when will it end?” You moan out, fanning yourself to no avail.

Cregan doesn’t acknowledge your relentless whining, only sighs in response. The heat was torture, that was for damn sure. He nearly begun to feel sick from the mix of the moist air and putrid smell of King’s Landing.

After living in Winterfell for so long, his nose had grown blind to the familiar scents of his home. But now, after being away for weeks to celebrate the first Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Cregan had grown desperate to return to the smell of winter.

You groaned and whined and groaned some more, only adding to Cregan’s already heightened irritation.

“Cregannnn!” You whined, dragging your feet while your sweaty hands held up your dress so it wasn’t pummeled with whatever strange liquids manifested themselves on the ground.

“I don’t know what you wish me to do, my lady.” He responds, flatly, growing ever so annoyed with you. “Tis’ the last day of the tourney, and then we will be home shortly thereafter.”

“I am ill equipped for this place.” You say, looking at the long sleeves of your dress that were now damp with sweat.

You arrive to the tourney, walking through the red and black dragon decorated festival. Your arm is linked in Cregan’s as you both take the steps to the table of other high lords. Cregan had refused to participate in the tourney, but encouraged his men to. Today Cregan’s right hand man and your brother, Jon Manderly, would go up against the Lord Commander of the Queensguard, Criston Cole. Your proximity with Cregan made those around you assume you were the Lady of Winterfell, and did not realize you were there representing House Manderly.

“Let’s hope our brother does not die today.” You mumble. Cregan smirks, but your words sting him slightly. Our brother. As if the three of you were siblings. He dared never admit it, but he was in love with you. In love with you how a Targaryen man was oft in love with their sister. He would give anything if it meant he could actually make you Lady of Winterfell. But he knew you did not love him the same, and although your father was desperate for Cregan to ask your hand he would never jeopardize the friendship he shared with you and your brother.

He glanced down at your lap, your hands folded properly between your thighs. Gods, what he wouldn’t give.

The day would be long, and your brother’s fight was the last joust of the day. Only then could you finally go home to your cold bliss. But until that time came, you all had to suffer the blazing fury of the sun.

You sipped on the sweet wine that had been brought to you by servants, twisting your features at the fruity taste. The flavor was that of one you were not used to, given the ale in the North was oft bitter and strong.

“This wine is disgusting.” You say to Cregan. He picks up his own cup, taking a quick swig before doing the same thing you did.

“I told you.” You laugh, pushing his strong arm.

“You weren’t jesting, my lady. That is a very unpleasant wine.”

“Well, maybe I have a surprise for you later.” She whispered.

Despite the heat, he shivered at her words and his stomach swirled with anticipation.

The day seemed to drag on. Although the morning had been hot, it was nothing compared to the sun at midday. None of the southerner’s seemed fazed, but you and Cregan were drenched head to toe in sweat. It looked as if you had both bathed, that was how wet your hair was. Your sweat had seeped through your dress in every crevice. It was so hot in fact, you and Cregan were both panting like overworked dogs and now suddenly that sweet wine was a delicious and cool reprieve from the heat.

“Cregan, please can we sneak out of here?” She asks.

“And go where?”

“I don’t care! Just somewhere cool. There’s got to be some sort of water near here that isn’t filled with gods know what.”

He knew he should’ve stayed, but you had that pleading look in your eye and gods was it hot. He was growing so delirious from the heat that he would do anything you asked of him.

You both mumbled a quiet excuse to the other lords at the table, saying you were off to pray or something. The lords gave you both confused looks, but you were already off.

You ran holding your dress in your hands so you didn’t trip over the skirts, and you giggled as Cregan was close behind, also giggling at your escapade. The breeze from your running felt cool against your wet skin.

Cregan grabbed your arm and you laughed as you lost your balance and fell. You both screamed and laughed as you tripped over each other, rolling on the grass.

“You’ve stained my dress!” You yelled, laughing.

“Why don’t you take it off then?” Cregan says. The words come out before he can stop them, and his hand flies to his mouth in shock at his own words. His cheeks grow even more red than they were before.

You laugh, giving his arm a push. “Cheeky today, aren’t we?”

You both stand, walking now past the gardens. “Do you know where you’re going?” You ask.

“My father brought me to King’s Landing when I was younger. I got lost and found this beach beyond the gardens.” Cregan says.

You both walk down the stairs to a stone building, making your way through the dark, abandoned halls to reach the other side.

The sand on the ground felt grainy and satisfying under your boots, and you quickly pulled them off to sink your toes in the sand. The area Cregan had brought you to was slightly secluded, but could easily be found by accident by someone wandering by.

“I’ll keep watch.” He says, turning to face the direction you came as you shuffle out of your dress.

“Keep watch.” You mumble, displeased he won’t be joining you. Cregan doesn’t hear you leave initially, but he hears your groans of relief when you step foot in the cold ocean.

“The water is so lovely!” You yell to him. He looks down, shaking his head. He wanted to join you so badly, to cool off in the ocean while he held you close to him. The sun was beating down on his brown hair, soaking his head with sweat. He began to grow frustrated with the heat, and the thoughts of you naked in the ocean weren’t helping to cool him off.

But he’d rather face the heat of a thousand burning suns before he let someone see you bare. You were his, and he’d allow himself to pass out from the heat before he moved from his spot. He told himself that, swore it in fact. You would not tempt him with your siren song into that ocean.

“Careful you don’t burn, my lady.” Cregan yells.

“What was that?” You call. “I didn’t hear you. Perhaps you should join me.”

He smirks, tapping his foot impatiently against the sand. He breathes in the salty smell of the ocean, such a sweet reprieve from the foulness that lingered even in the Red Keep.

“Cregan!” You yell jokingly angry. “Come in right now before you melt!”

He laughs, and you walk towards him from the shore. He doesn’t hear you over the sound of the waves crashing.

He jumps a bit when he feels your hand touch his shoulder. You tug on it to try and turn him around, but he stands firm.

“Cregan.” You whisper.

He shakes his head.

“Cregannnn.” You sing. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t move, so you walk around his body to face him. He closes his eyes, his heart racing with fear.

“My lady.” Cregan says with caution, eyes still closed.

“I-“ Your sentence is cut off by loud, rambunctious yelling.

Cregan’s eyes snap open, immediately grabbing you to drag you back to the water. His gaze avoids your body as much as possible, but he still can see your curves in his peripheral.

He walks in with you, ignoring his now wet clothes and pushing you until the water is at your waist.

“Sit.” He says, pushing your shoulders down so you’re on your knees, the water stopping at your collar bone. “Do not move.”

He walks back to shore just as the men reach the beach.

“My lords, this area is off limits.” Cregan says to the group of three men.

“Says who?” A short and stocky man drunkenly yells.

“Me.” Cregan says, his voice stern. One of the taller men peaks a glance around him, locking his eyes onto yours. Cregan notices and immediately shifts so the man is face to face with Cregan instead.

“Are you men of salt and sea?” Cregan asks them.

“No… We represent House Clegane; We’ll be facing some Northern cunt.” The tall guy spits on the ground and his minions laugh. The men continue to avert their gaze to you, with nasty smirks filling their faces.

“I see. Then, my lords, let me tell you as Warden of the North I suggest… No… command you turn and go back to the tourney.”

“And if we don’t?” The tall one speaks again, challenging Cregan.

“Then since you wish to stay so badly I will drown you in the ocean… and make you men of salt and sea.”

The men shuffle uncomfortably, looking to their tall leader. He avoids Cregan’s eyes, looking around and deciding if a fight is worth it. Your heart beats unusually fast in your chest, afraid of what fight may come.

You had never seen Cregan so… dominate and protective. He was like a wolf defending its pups. You had seen him assertive in the training yard, frustrated, angry… but this was different. You could feel the vibrations radiating off him. He was ice normally, but right now he felt like fire… even from far away.

A shiver ran up your body, yet you felt… hot in your stomach. Your chest fluttered, and you were afraid at the beast in your vision right now. Yet, he was igniting his own kind of fire in you, a heat that burned between your legs. Your hands nervously clawed and gripped at your thighs. You licked the salty water off your lips, nearly drooling at Cregan.

The men finally backed down, turning and leaving the way they had came. Cregan turned and looked at you, shaking his head. He did that a lot.

The way he protected you was so hot. You wanted to make it up to him.

He walked to the shoreline, the remnants of waves splashing his boots. He didn’t take his eyes off yours once.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice gentle with you. You nodded.

“Cregan…” You said. “I need you in the most unimaginable way possible right now.”

“Fuck.” He whispered, too quiet for you to hear. Did he dare cross this line? If he did, there was surely no returning.

Right when he decided against it, not wanting to strain your life long friendship, you stood up.

All logic, at that moment ceased to exist,

and he immediately stripped off his clothes.

Before he could even fully undress, you pounced on him. You yanked him in the water with his small clothes still on and slammed your lips on his.

“Thank you for protecting me.” You whispered. He kissed you with even more force after that, no longer able to contain himself. He felt such a strong urge in him to protect you, love you, hold you, breed you. He was possessed by your beauty and grace, and found himself getting lost in your lusciously sweet lips.

He held you tight against him, his length poking into your thighs. You rubbed him through his small clothes, eliciting a groan from him. Although the water was cooling him off, he found himself sweating with nervousness.

“Make me yours.” You whisper. His fingers greedily dig into your hips as he kisses you more deeply, tongues and teeth clashing. He claims your mouth with his, fighting to prove himself strong enough for you.

He tried to hide it, but he was deeply afraid. Cregan had never been with a woman intimately, and he did not want to let down the girl he loved since he was a child.

“Marry me.” He whispers. “Give me your hand. Be the Lady of Winterfell.”

You pull away from him, staring at him to search his eyes for any sign of a jest. But all you see are his gray eyes, staring back at you with a mixture of lust and love and hope.

When he saw the look of shock in your eyes, he immediately regretted his words. He had pushed too far and turned you off. He was convinced you had gotten lost in the madness of lust, and were only now realizing the consequences of your actions.

“Are… Are you serious?” You ask.

He nods, sadly. He couldn’t back down, he needed to say he tried.

“But, I’m just a Manderly. You could marry a Targaryen or Hightower if you wanted… Why me?”

“Because I love you, endlessly.” He says, “All those moments, all those memories… You’ve made me who I am. I’m not me without you.” and it was true. Every glance he stole, every time you fought, hunted, played, argued… It all led him to here. He knew there was a purpose for you both. He always felt it in his soul, he just hadn’t known what it meant until now.

Now he knew it meant your fates were sealed long ago.

“Lady Stark,” You say, playing with Cregan’s chest. “rolls off the tongue quite nicely.”

He pulls you back onto his lips, a tear escaping his eye at the joy he felt. You were his, and you always would be.

Gods be damned, honor be damned. I want her now.

He picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. His hand supported your bottom as he carried you all the way back to the sand. You kissed his neck, cradling it between your hands.

Cregan set you down on his discarded clothes, flattening out the cloak so sand wouldn’t ruin your endeavor.

Cregan’s fingers smoothed over your cunt and you gasped. He pushed one inside and you found yourself gripping his bicep for support, the other hand resting on the back of his neck. You closed your eyes, moaning softly. He inserts another, stretching you to prepare you as best as possible. You moan his name, begging for the rest of him.

“Please, please, take me.” You pleaded. He was hesitant, as badly as he wanted it.

He decided he would be angry with himself later. For now, for the first time in Westeros history, a Stark forgot about honor.

He pulled his fingers out, rubbing himself with the lingering wetness from your cunt. He pushed off the last of his small clothes and positioned his length against you.

You finally felt slightly nervous when his length touched you. Cregan was a big man of course, surely you should have known that would’ve applied to other parts.

And yet it had slipped your mind, so now here you were mentally unprepared and growing nervous at his size about to take your maidenhead.

“Were other women you’ve been with intimidated by your size?” You ask, a tremble in your voice.

“What?” He asks.

“What?” You repeat.

“I’ve never been with other women.” He shakes his head.

“What?” You say again, surprise in your voice this time.

“You will be my first.” He says. “Am I yours?”

You nod.

“Then I will take care of you.” He says. You press your shaky lips to his, and his hand gently holds your cheek to comfort you.

He slides into you, slowly, holding you close to him to keep you from wiggling. You whine into his lips, a small sob parting you.

“You’re okay.” He whispers. “I’ve got you. We will go easy, my girl.”

You nestle your face into his neck, holding on to him with a death grip.

He makes love to you slow at first, waiting for your tight cunt to adjust to him.

“Gods, please move.” You beg,

He immediately does as you command, fucking you with lust in his hips but love in his heart. You stare at him, admiring every feature on his face as he fucks you. His lips are parted, gasping softly, and his piercing gray eyes are focused only on your face. His wet brown locks fall beside his face, and you push it back with your fingers so they don’t hinder his vision. Your other hand leaves trails of red scratches down his chest, which only fuels on his hunger to make you writhe and wiggle more beneath him.

“Right there, Cregan. Oh, fuck, please. Please, my lord.” You moan. Cregan nearly melts at your lascivious begging.

He continues his harsh thrusts on your cunt, blood drips down his chest from the ferocity of your nails. He hardly even notices the burning pain, he’s too busy drowning in the heat between your legs.

You pull his lips onto yours, whining and moaning into his mouth as you hit your peak. Cregan groans as you tighten around him, and he plants his hand into the sand beside your head.

He wanted to pull out, he really did. But the way your cunt tightened around him, the way you pulled him into you so you could moan into his lips, the way your body trembled as you peaked… it was too much to handle. He spilled his seed into you, and by how much he spilled surely you would be pregnant with an heir if he did not get you moon tea on the morrow.

For now, he just wanted you. He wanted to wed you the moment you arrived back home. Your father would definitely be doing cartwheels when he heard the news, your brother would likely be happy as well.

There was time in their future for an heir, but all he could think about right now was how hard it was gonna be to restrain himself with you as his betrothed now.

“Our little secret?” You asked, referring to your engagement on the beach.

“Our little secret.” He said, pecking a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

You both rinsed off in the ocean, dressing back in your clothes and returning to the tourney just in time to see your brother win against House Clegane.

But unfortunately, he had celebrated too early following his win against House Clegane, because he had gotten too drunk and lost only an hour later to Criston Cole.

“50 gold dragons.” He drunkenly scoffed.

“Better than none, brother.” You said, trying to comfort his first place loss. You looked to Cregan for help, but he was lost in his own world thinking about the beach.

“Something trouble you, Cregan?” You ask.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” He says, discretely brushing his hand against yours.

You blush, and the three of you silently make your way back to the great hall inside the Red Keep for the final feast of the tourney.

“I offer my congratulations to the winners, including my sworn protector Criston Cole and the second place winner Jon Manderly. I also offer my thanks to all the lords and ladies who have travelled from as far as Dorne to Winterfell. This will be a tournament for the books.” Queen Rhaenyra announces, sitting beside her council members including Alicent, Rhaenys, her son Jacaerys, Criston Cole, and her husband Daemon. “I would also like to announce a new marriage betrothal, brought to me by Cregan Stark!”

You and your brother turn to Cregan, who avoids your eyes yet smirks. “Cregan Stark has announced he will wed Lady Manderly, sister of the second place winner Jon Manderly, to celebrate Winterfell’s second place victory!”

The hall erupts in noise as people flood around you with their congratulations. You look at your brother, whose jaw is hanging to the floor.

“I suppose this truly makes us brothers now, aye Cregan?” Your brother says when he finally speaks, his northern accent appearing thicker than usual.

“Aye.” Cregan nods.

Your brother’s shock dissipates, and he finally shares his joy with you. He punches your arms, just like when you had been younger.

“Ow, brother! You forget yourself!” You say, smacking his arms.

“Sorry, sister. This moment is so joyous. Father might have a heart attack when he hears.”

You give your brother a gentle, appreciative smile, grateful for his approval as he takes your hand in his.

“Lady Manderly and Lord Stark, while your marriage will not take place here we will celebrate in your absence. King’s Landing is forever indebted to the hospitality and strength continuously provided by the Starks.” The Queen says, raising her glass to you and Cregan.

Those around you celebrated and drank, relishing in the most joyous of occasions. Queen Rhaenyra successfully ascended the throne, the tournament had been historic, Winterfell had emerged near victorious, the Stark bloodline would soon carry on.

“It is unfortunate we cannot get drunk on this piss wine.” Cregan says, playing with his cup.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier I had a surprise for you, my betrothed?” You say, lifting your dress to reveal a little metallic flask tied to your leg. He looks at you, raising his eyebrow and smirking.

“Shall we retire for the night?” He asks.

You take his hand and the both of you slip out the door, in search of another place to “cool off.”

[what-even-is-thiss]

I feel like when it comes to the stardew valley spouses Sebastian would be the one I settle down with but Elliot is the one I think about at night.

He shines too brightly. He’s a little too loud. But he still makes my gay little heart jump the same way it did the first time. Every time.

But Sebastian is more stable. Sebastian loves you but can still have his own life separate from you. And he’s there. Quiet, but he’s there.

But Elliot alone in his cabin side eyes me every time I walk down to the beach. I meet his eyes a bit too long at festivals. We both know. We both know if one of us asked we would. But we won’t. It seems that he’s destined to be lonely and I am destined to be trapped. If not in my corporate job then there on that farm with that cozy safe husband and children, crops that need tending to, animals that need feeding.

Is anyone unhappy? No. Elliot has his modest success. He can live modestly off of his book sales. In time he grows old on that beach just as he feared, but it’s not so bad. He’s the town eccentric. He’s the local writer. He writes a new novel every year. A cheap little thing bought at an airport bookstore. A romance writer whose books are eaten and discarded within a week. And he’s happy.

And I sell my little artisan goods. Cheese and wine mostly these days. We put a little skull and crossbones on the wine bottles, just to be edgy. Just because we can. Children grow up in a stable and happy home with all the space in the world to run through the blueberry fields, their adoption papers framed on the wall, their slightly weird alternative dads taking them on motorcycle rides through the mountains. We’re quiet. We only get out on Fridays. Everyone knows us but we don’t hold hands at the store.

Elliot and I sit at the same table in the bar that Leah does. I know her slightly less than I know him. This town has become weirder. That’s good. We chat. Elliot is a messy drunk. Sometimes he gets a little too close to my face when he’s tipsy but he always stops himself. Everyone knows I wouldn’t stop him if he leaned in. Including my husband. We’ve never spoken about it but he’s not dumb. Everyone knows. Everyone also knows that nothing has happened. But it always could.

But Elliot doesn’t lean in. Maybe it’s the smell of dirt on me that breaks the image of me he has in his mind. Maybe it’s the public space. Maybe it’s Sebastian playing pool in the corner. Maybe if he was drunk in a private space everything would come apart. Both of our perfect on paper little lives.

Maybe if this were one of Elliot’s books we would run away together, abandon everything in the middle of the night. But neither of us would like that, really. Both of us are a one person at a time kind of guy. And we both know I made the right choice.

I still have dreams though. Of him and I on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. He cannot contain himself and kisses me in a fit of passion. Like a vision from another universe where I’m just as happy as I am now. A parallel mirror world where I never climbed onto the back of that motorcycle and ran down the hill to the beach instead, where everything lasted for more than just that one summer.

[pubbamoon]

Placements that can indicate having joyful vibes

Hi! This will be another post about astrology indicators. Here, I'll analyze some placements that can indicate being joyful, care-free, fun, entertaining and free-spirited. To be truly honest, I couldn't wait to use this beach aesthetic, 'cause this is one of my favorite aesthetic in general, hahaha. Regardless, let's just get into the theme!

Big 3 in Sagittarius

I mean, do I have to say anything about that? Sagittarius is basically ruled by Jupiter, the planet of luck, expansion and optimism. These natives are 'life of the party' type of people, indeed. Going to the party or just simply having fun is something unforgettable. If you want to live an adventurous life, do it with Sagittarius natives. When it comes to having a Big 3 in Sagittarius, it's crucial to look how Jupiter is placed.

Planets in the 5th/9th house

Especially Sun, Moon, Venus and Jupiter. So, the 5th house is associated with creativity, fun, entertainment, doing something you love to do, while the 9th house is related to luck, happiness, foreign lands, long travels etc. People with planets or even stellium in these houses might be naturally joyful and and find a way to enjoy in life. They may also be in tune in spirituality or they're someone who need a lot of freedom in their lifetime.

Purva Phalguni Nakshatra

This is based on Vedic astrology. Purva Phalguni nakshatra is completely located in Leo and it's ruled by Venus, the planet of love, aesthetics and pleasure. The symbol of this nakshatra is bed, which makes this nakshatra very sexual and erotic. One of the most common traits of the natives with Purva Phalguni nakshatra are prone to creativity, care-free personality and even hedonism. The combination of the Sun and Venus makes these natives creative, beautiful, fun, entertaining etc.

Jupiter as a dominant planet

That is a topic from my previous observation, but I'll continue into talk about this because it goes well to this theme. Jupiter can be a very lucky planet if it's placed very well (in Sagittarius, Pisces, Cancer or having a Rising sign in these signs). Natives who have a strong Jupiter in their natal charts are very optimistic individuals who always strive to have a good time.

Dionysus (3671) conjunct Sun/Moon/Ascendant

Dionysus is a Greek god of wine and festivities and asteroid Dionysus (3671) in astrology means indulgence, intoxication and how we approach to those things. Having a prominent Dionysus in natal chart means being 'life of the party' and indulgent individual who wants to have fun in life, get drunk and drives other people insane.

So, that could be it. I hope you're gonna like it and find it relatable. Take it if it's resonates with you. Or not, you choose. I wish you all had a wonderful next week that is coming. Bye and see you!

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[pearlesscentt]

the starting point

riize (all members) + love tropes i associate them with, fluff

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — shotaro : slowburn

lunches with friends. uncertain glances. anticipation. plant on your windowsill. book and music recommendations. a nervous invitation. long walks after midnight. hands brushing against each other. shy smiles. heart beats speeding up. changing of topics. holding back. a handwritten letter of all unsaid things.

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — eunseok : [a] fell first, but [b] fell harder

basketball. playful teasing. charming smile. jersey numbers. campus crush. inside jokes. contagious laughter. late-night texts. one-on-one shooting competitions. game day nerves. electrolyte drinks. a text for good luck. unspoken feelings.

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — sungchan : meet cute

dog park. tangled leashes. nervous laughter. doggie treats and snuggles. park benches. nosy neighbors. budding friendship. play dates. shyly asking for a phone number. sending each other animal videos. daily walks and paw prints. puppy love.

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — wonbin : summer love

beach town. wind chimes. melting ice cream cones. sun-kissed skin. barefoot beach strolls. seashells. saltwater in your hair. dancing at the summer festival. sundresses. peach iced tea at the café. sunsets. climbing up the lighthouse. flip flops and tank tops. pretending to know constellations on starlit nights. summer rain. post cards and love letters.

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — seunghan : fake dating

living room. dumb decisions over wine. ground rules. nervous introductions. a hand on your lower back. a sigh of relief. public displays. pretend dates. more wine. shared secrets. a photo on social media. a kiss in a crowded room. even more wine. knowing glances. confusion. sincerity.

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — sohee : strangers to lovers

bus stops. the chaos of a rush hour. same route home. familiarity. polite nods. curiousity. accidental touches. part-time jobs and exhaustion. falling asleep on your shoulder. sharing earbuds and new music. unexpected friendship. comfort in silence. walking you home.

꒰ 🐛 ꒱ — anton : childhood friends to lovers

neighborhood playground. laughter. afternoons in the treehouse. homemade birthday cards. secret handshakes. teaching each other how to ride a bike. band-aids. being apart during summer camp. doing homework together. hot chocolate on sleepovers. teasing each other about crushes. high school prom. promise rings. graduation day. growing up.

riize masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[okaerina]

𖥻 THINGS — enhypen ◌ ִ ۫ ּ

syn ; things enha reminds me of !

heeseung !

dangly earrings, pendent chains, skinny ripped jeans, rock guitar, clubbing, late studio night, concerts, rainy empty street, love songs, specs, ice cream, deers, rainforest, going over the speed limit, long drive, polaroids, balcony, tattoos, collage campus, basketball, getting into fist fights, breaking rules, warm breeze, kisses, sharing earphones, untied shoelaces, sleeveless tops, cross jewelries, chase atlantic songs

jay !

red wine, ball dance, guitar, empty kitchen, champagne bubbles, tuxedo suits, runaway, black cat, fashion magazines, gold jewelries, camping, eucalyptus, biking, biker jackets, street racing, late night walks, city lights, porsche, cologne, the weeknd songs, loose tie, fancy restaurant, chanel bags, iced americano, home, long hugs, words of affirmation, eye contact, autumn, posh music, v necks, opera, musical recital, marriage, ancient churches

jake !

pancakes, golden retrievers, empty parks, cardigans, picnic, wolf pups, landscapes, abstract art, lip piercings, makeout sessions, mornings, cream, sheets, swimming, sand castles, tree houses, venus, varsity player, rings, clashing waves, sun shinning through curtains, backyard, champagne, sparkly eyes, netflix and chill, forehead kisses, caramel fudge, winter, jb songs, garden, lilies, lipstick stains

sunghoon !

sculptures, greek mythology, snow, ice skating, pointe shoes, swan lake, ice rinks, rhinestones, vampires, sharp canines, royalty, huskies, novels, cruise, 90s songs, ear muffs, moon phase, poetry, dandelions, maple leaves, vanilla shake, pearls, penguins, blush, lucid dreams, confessions, lullaby, archangels, romance movies, boyfriend coats, monsoon, hair blowing because of the wind, moles, tears, old love, unrequited love, ribbons, weddings

sunoo !

sun, tulip field, solar system, marshmallows, tteobokki, street food, shopping, karaoke, smiles, cute stationeries, stickers, secret diary, cheek kisses, mufflers, red foxes, bratz doll, playdate, selfies, carnations, easter, boba tea, bestfriends to lovers, cherry blossoms, lip gloss, skincare, disney shows, late night face timing, gossiping, watching kdramas, sanrio stuffs, blowing bubbles, photo booths, texts, horizon

jungwon !

kittens, valleys, teenage dream, gold fish, aquariums, subways, cds, headphones, empty bus rides, babybreaths, holding hands, first love, taylor swift songs, messy hair, vacation, countryside, group study, constellations, piggyback ride, dimples, converse, empty classroom, sheep cubs, indoor plants, mini cactus, namsan tower, han river, late fall, vintage hand written letters , young love, romcom, kitties

ni-ki !

graffiti, sunsets, baggy pants, late night dance jam, empty beach, bicycling, sea shore, ear piercings, watermelon, summer, slow dancing, grass field, bungeoppangs, duck chicks, disneyland, ps5, arcade, puma cubs, eskimo kisses, bracelets, youth, climbing fences, skipping school, skateboarding, mangas, school festivals, footsies, cute band aids, oversized attires, j-rock, night sky, laughters, slice of life, teenage, playfulness, photo booths, anime, shoujo manga

© aenfilmz / 02072023

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt @enhawhoreist

[scratchandfriends]

Quiet Watcher (18+)

Pairing: BG3 Wyll x Female!Tiefling! Tav

Word Count: 2500

Summary: What if Wyll indulges his desires a bit at the tiefling party? Who says a lawful soft boy can’t have a little romp? Okay maybe there's SOMEONE who says he can't...

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mean voyeurism, p in v sex, unprotexted sex, creampies (dont), horned/horny wyll, making out, very tame smut!

— — 

The party was quieting down and only a few people remained upright and even fewer remained sober. You were seated on a large log around the campfire with Shadowheart and Karlach enjoying the last of the festivities around you. 

Not wanting the night to end, you rose to retrieve another bottle of wine from your pack across the camp in your tent. Your head swims a bit, completely unrelated to the wriggling tadpole inside of it for once. You raise your arms out slightly at your sides to steady yourself. Your tail involuntarily straightened to balance you on your unsteady feet. 

“Woah, soldier! Think you’ve had enough, hey?” Karlach says with a chuckle, not bothering to stand up. It’s not like she could catch you, anyway. 

“You might be right. Should probably quit while I’m ahead… don’t want to be nursing a hangover and killing goblins tomorrow.” You smile and right yourself. 

“You smell like a barkeep’s boot on top of it all. Did you spill on yourself again or is that all coming out of your pores?” Shadowheart chirps at you with her nose in the air. 

You sniff the air around you and your clothes. Cheap, stolen wine all around. 

“Yuck. I think that asshole wizard from the grove spilled his drink in my hair when he was doing those explosive spells earlier.” You grimace. “Fucking tieflings, am I right?” You turn your head and wink at Karlach. She giggles cutely. “I think I should wash up before I turn in.” 

“Good idea. I might vomit in the morning if you smell like stale booze.” Karlach says. “Should hit the hay myself actually. Night, don’t let the owl bears bite!” Your large friend trots off to her tent as you make your way to the outskirts of the camp. 

Walking further away and letting the light of the fire completely disappear in your wake, you come upon the quiet banks of the calm river near camp. The waters were moving so slowly you could barely see which way the current was flowing if it weren’t for the few pieces of driftwood floating by. 

You begin to strip yourself of your blood stained and booze scented garb, folding it up neatly and placing it on the rocky, sandy bank of the river. Once completely bare, you slip off your sandals and enter the water. 

“Oooh!” You remark as the pleasantly temperate water glides across the tops of your feet. 

You move further into the river, dragging your fingers lazily across the water’s surface as you sink in past your waist. You feel both the grime and tension of the day wash away, letting out a contented sigh. Before you relax fully, your nose reminds you of the wine still lingering in your hair. 

You pull the ribbon from your sleek ponytail allowing your long hair to cascade freely down your back. You tread further into the river, bending backwards to dip the tips of your tresses into the fresh water. After wetting your hair, your bring it around to your front using your hands and begin to wring out the water along with the stench of spilled liquor. 

As you wash your hair, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched…

— — 

Wyll sat up against a rocky cliff, bottle in hand, far away from the festivities of camp. He was still processing his recent transformation and cursing his damned patron six ways to Sunday. Moping around doesn’t help, of course, but he just couldn’t bring himself to partake in the revelry and hoopla of a party at a time like this. 

So there he sat. 

On the beach. 

The mixture of sand and rock wasn’t comfortable on his backside and he wasn’t enjoying the cragged surface of the cliff against his back, but the alcohol was bringing him further and further away from caring. 

With each swig he stared more intently at the slow moving river, trying to free his mind from his own current predicament. He hears the sands shifting far to his left and turns his head. He sees Tav approaching the river with a bit of a sway in her gait, clearly unaware of his presence. 

Wyll carefully crafts what to say to her in his head but before he could make himself known he’s stunned by what she does next. 

She swiftly rips her tunic over her head, revealing her bare torso. Before he could process the milky pink sight of her bare back in the moonlight, she slips her trousers down her legs. 

His gaze locks on to where her tail meets her backside, then immediately drop to the plump curve of her ass, now fully nude standing on the bank of the river. 

Wyll’s mind short circuits, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone speak up and alert Tav to his presence hidden by the rock face. His breathing quickens as he watches her wade comfortably into the river. She rinses her hair and pulls it over her breasts to wash it thoroughly. He can’t help but notice the tightness in his trousers. 

It was far too late to announce himself… he had been watching too long… 

— —

“I know you’re there.” You say in a sing-song voice as you finish rinsing the wine from your long hair. 

There’s a pregnant pause, followed by the sound of someone hurriedly rising to their feet on the beach. 

“I-I assure you I w-wasn’t-“ You hear Wyll’s anxious stutter and you smirk without turning around to face him. 

“What? Ogling me bathing?” You giggle as you continue to clean yourself in the refreshing water. 

“I would n-never! I should g-go-“ You notice his footsteps heading in the opposite direction. 

“Oh hush. Join me, will you? We’ve had quite the few days.” You comment. 

“J-join you?” 

You shoot Wyll a playful glance over your shoulder. 

“Why not? I’ll close my eyes. I promise I won’t peek at your blade of frontiers.” You can’t help but smirk again. 

Silence falls over the two of you again, the only sound being the gentle babbling of the river around you. 

“Unless you don’t want to-“ You begin.

“No! No no. I do. I will, just… give me a moment here…” He flounders with his words, but you were delighted by the sound of his clothes being removed and discarded to the bank of the river. You hear his rapier clatter to the pebbled ground followed by the sloshing of disturbed water behind you. 

You feel Wyll creep gingerly up to your side, leaving a comfortable distance between the two of you. You turn to face him, both now up past your waists in the water. 

The moonlight cast stark shadows on his face from his curled horns, but his newly glowing left eye met yours. Your gaze dipped a bit to his toned, reddened chest, heaving a bit as if he was nervous for some reason… 

“There you are.” You say with a kind smile. 

“At least you recognize me.” Wyll sighs. 

“Come now.” You coo as you step towards him, water rippling around your torso. “You’re still the same man I agreed to travel with, just a bit… hornier.” You smirk. 

“You have to say it like that?” Wyll can’t help but crack a smile. 

“I couldn’t resist!” You laugh. “I can’t assure that you’ll get used to them, I was born with mine. Invest in a few larger pillows for your bedroll and I promise you’ll forget you have them in no time.” 

“If you say so.” Wyll shakes his head and looks down, desperately trying not to gawk at your naked form so close to him now. 

You step even closer to him, raising your hands to softly run them along the ridges of his newly sprouted ram horns. 

“You’ve got quite a nice pair, you know.” You remark 

“So do you.” He responds. 

You cock your head in surprise and raise your brows. 

“Gods! Shit! The horns! Your horns I mean!” He stumbles over his words again, blushed face growing even more crimson. 

You can’t help but throw your head back and laugh, hands still touching his horns. 

“Aww, I was hoping you were referring to something else, Warlock.” You say with a playful lilt in your voice. You gently tug on the base of his horns to pull him tentatively closer to you. 

“I mean… those are lovely too…” He says, finally allowing himself to glance down to your breasts. “Better than the horns, if I may be so bold.” 

“You may.” You remark cheekily as you move closer to Wyll, bodies nearly touching now. You can’t help but notice the brush of velvety skin bobbing against your belly. 

He hums in contentment and there’s another brief silence between the two of you. 

Your eyes meet and you seize the quiet moment to push yourself up onto your toes and place a gentle, lingering kiss on Wyll’s lips. His body freezes and you keep yourself from moving further until you can gauge his response to your actions. 

After the initial shock of your advance wore off, Wyll eventually leans into your kiss and starts moving his mouth against yours. 

You prod your tongue into his mouth experimentally and he lets out a soft hum of approval before allowing your wet muscle to explore his. 

As your kiss grows hotter and more fervent, Wyll wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. You bring your hands down from his horns to cup his face, thumbs soothingly stroking his cheeks as you kissed. 

“I want you.” You say as you pull back from the kiss breathlessly. Wyll’s eyes search yours for any sign of uncertainty, but he was met only with lust and desire. 

“You’re sure?” He asks to affirm. 

“Gods, yes. Take me.” You breath out. 

Without needing any more confirmation, Wyll uses his grip on your hips to hoist you up into his arms. You yelp a bit in surprise before instinctively wrap your legs around his torso. Wyll latches his lips onto your neck, still damp from washing your hair, and trudges out of the river with you in his arms. 

He gently lays you down on your back before leaning back to admire your nude body prone on the rocks and sand before him. The moonlight glittered across your form through the water droplets littering your skin and Wyll was entranced. 

“So beautiful, far more than I deserve.” He remarks as he takes in your figure. 

“Oh stop all that.” You chide up at him. “Enough of that talk and make love to me.” 

“As you wish.” Wyll smirks down at you before pushing your legs apart and slotting himself between them. He props himself up on his elbow while lining his aching member up with your entrance with his other arm. 

As his hot tip breeches your soaked hole, you sigh out in contentment. 

“Gods you’re tight…” Wyll remarks with a grunt as he pushes further into you. 

Once passing the initial resistance from the remnants of the river water at your entrance, Wyll’s cock is met with the slippery, hot, slickness of your inner walls that allows him to silde effortlessly into you with ease. He thrusts experimentally, getting you used to his intrusion, all while you whine and claw at his shoulders, wordlessly pleading with him to give to you harder and deeper. 

“Wyll, darling… more…” You plead with him as you crane your hips upward. 

Your newfound lover obliges and plows into you harder, grunting and letting out desperate little pants with each meeting of your hips against yours. 

“I’ll give you as much as you want, anything you ask-“ Wyll babbles as he continues fucking you with reckless abandon. 

Wyll angles himself so he can suckle at the delicate skin of your chest all while stimulating the sweetest spots inside you. 

“Oh gods, I’m.. so close!” You moan out into the starry sky above you, gripping the back of Wyll’s neck and using your other hand to dig your nails into the meat of his backside, pulling him impossibly deep.  

“Come on, I want to feel you…” Wyll pulls back from your chest and brings a hand to rub firm, concise circles on your clit without faltering his thrusts. “Let go on me…” 

“Aggh!” You moan out as you feel your dam breaking and pleasure cascades from your center all throughout your body. Your eyes roll back in your head and you feel your walls spasm around Wyll’s thick length. 

“I-I can’t last… not with you squeezing me like this…” Wyll manages to grunt out as his hips stutter against yours. “Where-“

“In me! Please!” You cry out, delirious in the throws your pleasure still. 

“I- Shit-Ah-“ A deep groan leaves Wyll’s plump lips as he grinds his pelvis into your own and you feel the warmth and pressure of his heavy load filling your insides. He meets his horned forehead with yours and you whimper. 

Wyll’s deep pants dust your face as you both come down from your highs. You smile and gently kiss his parted lips. 

“That was… incredible…” He finally musters the strength to say. 

“I’d have to agree.” You remark, placing another light kiss on his lips. You pull back to find him smiling at you. A genuine one, not the fake one he’d been wearing for the past few days, one of actual happiness and comfort.

But that was soon to be shattered. 

“Bravo, little one!” 

A shrill voice from the shadows breaks through the quiet intimacy of your shared moment. 

Wyll instinctively scoops your naked body up into his torso and shields you with his arms. 

“Really? Here?” Wyll angrily remarks. 

“Here? You mean everywhere. I’m always watching, pet.” Mizora materializes mere meters from where your nude forms were still joined at the hip. “And it looks like its rutting season for my little pup! How sweet.” 

“You’ve had enough fun, now go back to whatever stinking, foul hell you came from!” Wyll bites back at his patron. 

“Oh, don’t be so rude. This certainly won’t be the last your little girl-friend sees of me.” Mizora cackles. “Excellent showing, darlings. Ta-ta for now then, hopefully it’ll be a little longer next time!” 

Before Wyll has a chance to retort, the devil flutters back to the hells in a ring of fire and smoke. 

Wyll lets out a heavy sigh. 

“So… she’s going to watch… every time?” You ask, still seated on his lap at the river’s edge. 

“Until we can find a way to break the pact… unfortunately yes. I understand if you want this to be a one time situation, it’s-” 

“Hush.” You quiet him with another kiss. “We’ve better give her a good show then. She can watch all she wants.” You push Wyll onto his back, straddling him. “She’ll never be the one crying out from the pleasure you’re giving… if she’s jealous, that can’t be our fault, can it?” You say as you hover over him. 

“You little minx…” 

— — 

A/N Ok Larian hates Wyll but I love him so let's make it more interesting!!!

[darling-renyuu]

and time can't stop me quite like you did; auron & rook

fic summary: just rook, and how red became their favorite color. a/n: this popped into my head and i had to write it down before i lose it forever. also, my rook's side of the whole thing (but hehe i hope you like it (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)) word count: 845 words

the first time was a well-hidden farce.

his hands were shaking minutely as he spoke words that meant everything and nothing all at once. ones he had rehearsed over and over and over in front of a mirror until he went insane - but he was not sitting face to face with his own soul. no, not at all.

he asked himself once: how can someone be so unknown and so familiar to him all at once? how can someone be so like and unlike him?

his red hair made his vision blur, yet why do his veins yearn to flow through them? when did red make him feel so alive? when did brown eyes feel so cold?

it's truly odd.

everything about him makes his blood thrum and sing songs of unwritten epilogues. like stars etched with scarlet thread in his skin, longing to return to the heights. he's ecstatic when sanguine fills his periphery until its all he could think about. words and jargon blur on his screen, forming a silhouette that makes his heart yearn.

the second time was an instinct.

he should have felt fear. that's what they've taught them in school, right? red means a warning. a blaring message telling you to stop and run away.

though, red feels warm amongst the candles. intimate, with the light dancing around his hair and making him glow. he knows from those brown eyes that his soul is cold and battered and broken down until poisoned shards remain.

with every drop of wine, he could feel himself pressing his ear to the shattered mirror to hear the faint thump of a heart. the edges bite into his skin, but he smiles.

he feels like a fool; a happy fool. one who bares out a piece of his being to let this blood-soaked dagger lodge itself into the softness underneath.

grabbing his chin was an instinct. he needed to brand himself into his memory just like he had for him. he wanted hazel eyes to tint his vision just like brown eyes had for him.

it was a gamble, a risk, but it was a calling. it was a glint of something more that went beyond silly fantasies and fiction. it was as if his offer could put words to paper and make them come alive.

and it did.

the third was an epiphany.

the festivities were nothing compared to the joy he felt when that red appeared once again. he realized that red meant something new; an intriguing vulnerability, like blood underneath hardened skin, coiled around barbed bones.

he wanted to catch a glimpse of the man in an ivory tower. the man whose walls were crawling with crimson-tainted ivy, his gardens filled with fire and fury.

and somehow, in between, where the heavens and the earth meet, he did.

speaking so candidly with him felt odd. like seeing snow on the beach. so, so strange, but beautiful.

it was if they were circling each other, entangling themselves in a song and dance where their eyes and skin communicate for them.

his lips, bitten until they looked like cherries; his cheeks, blooming in rose... and that addicting scarlet bleeding like ink into the sheets.

before he knows it, red has become his favorite color.

Rook's eyes blink open, groaning softly. His hips hurt like hell, but hey, at least last night's shenanigans weren't some dream that would fade in the morning...

The ceiling of Auron's penthouse greets him, and he snuggles right back into the covers like a darling thing.

Like some kind of rare event, Auron was still asleep. The sun greets his peaceful form, the invisible string tying his brows together was not pulled taut for once. Rook simply stops, focusing on how his arm fits snugly against his waist, how his breaths slowly synched with his.

That article he read pops up in his mind again. The one about a pair of heartbeats synching when being in close proximity. Would theirs do that too? Would the silence be adorned with two heartbeats, seemingly fitting into the quiet as one?

He swallows, resting his cheek back into the pillow. He laughs softly to himself, thinking of all the ways Auron would chide him when he wakes up. Maybe something about "watching him in his sleep" or something.

And yet, even if they were entwined a few hours prior, he longs to touch. To feel, once again, the hum of his pulse against his fingertips. One that his soul is willing to echo.

He slowly brushes a finger against his cheek, his breath catching in anticipation. He knows he doesn't need to be so soft. His heart says otherwise.

And so, with a swipe of his thumb against his cheekbone, he lets out a breath with a quiver. His hazel eyes catch the sunlight. If ever Auron were to awaken at this moment, he would see red in the color of love; a subtle thing, something cautious and curious, blooming in the cracks.

for the fourth, time stops like it never had before.

writing belongs to @/darling-renyuu. please do not repost. art belongs to @/jackieeleanor.

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The Alliance

Summary: Princess (Y/N)'s hunt has finally come, and Ivar has more than a country to explore.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

A/N: I know I haven't been uploading and I'm sorry, I've been working and this story in particular requires a LOT of research (like literally so much). That said please enjoy this chapter, remember if its bold that means it is spoken in the foreign language. This chapter does include a hunting scene so trigger warning if it applies.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Taglist:

The celebration of Princess (Y/N)’s homecoming was indeed an event that would be talked about in Tunisia for months, and the Norse travelers would never forget it. The beach, the dancing, the music, the food that was served was all breathtaking and bordering comfortably on the edge of overwhelming.

It was only when the feast was entirely eaten and the performers were physically unable to continue that everyone agreed to retreat to their own homes to rest.

Ivar found himself on the back of his father, he couldn’t fathom hauling his weight on his crutches after he had exhausted all his energy during the festivities. However; it seemed Ragnar had reserved just enough energy to help his youngest son to the palace.

He even carried Ivar’s crutches in his arms as Ivar clung to his back, and Ivar saw how his father’s grip on them left his knuckles pale white.

‘You do not like my crutches.’ he said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of them as they lagged behind the royal party on the way back to the castle.

‘I do not like them.’ Ragnar confessed casually.

‘Why?’

‘You do not need them, Ivar; you move slower with them. I can tell it exhausts you and you break more bones by standing upright.’

‘I haven’t bro-’

‘You have.’ Ragnar interrupted the lie, his voice suddenly stern.

‘I am not your mother, I don’t need to see and hear you crying to know when you have pushed your body too far for its limitations. Every time I tried to hold you for the first year of your life I broke a bone in my rough handling.’

At his father’s confession Ivar was left speechless; how many times had his mother drunkenly rambled that as a babe Ivar cried whenever Ragnar picked him up? Of course Ivar had not known why he did this, he was too young, all he knew was his mother was telling the truth about it. Aslaug’s drunken complaining made up a large amount of Ivar’s childhood and sometimes her drunkenness made her dramatize the events but this was one of the few that never changed; Ragnar never spoke of it in front of him.

Not once in all his life.

‘Even the night I left you in the woods, it was your right ankle, it cracked as I tried to swaddle you. I hadn’t intended to leave you that night, I was just trying to hold you and I couldn’t do even that without hurting you.’ Ragnar continued.

‘You must not be used to the palm wine these Tunisians serve, mead has never made you drunk enough to tell me this before.’ Ivar tried weakly to joke.

He hadn’t been prepared to hear this, he had long ago come to accept that he would die without ever having had this conversation with his father.

‘I must not be.’ his father let out a humorless breath of laughter.

‘How do you know when I break a bone? Is it the blue in my eyes?’ Ivar asked.

‘No, son; it is not your eyes, it’s your nose.’

‘My nose?’

‘It scrunches up in a wince whenever a bone breaks, even as a baby before the cries could fall from your lips your nose would give you away. I also know because whenever I see you break a bone I feel it.’ his father confessed.

‘I feel the same sickness rise up in my throat, the same guilt. My guiltiness led me to abandon you, my guilt kept me from loving you. Guilt over how you were born, guilt that my impatience and disregard to your mother’s warning cost you your health.’

Ivar did not need any elaborations on what his father was referencing.

“His mother said he would be a monster.”

“Not even ten and already a killer.”

“There is something not human in him, I just know it.”

“She wasn’t even pregnant yet and she knew he’d be vile and twisted.”

“He even slithers around like the great serpent, he will bring Ragnarok to us all!”

Phrases like these were whispered around him all his life; his mother’s prophecy that if Ragnar had her too soon she would birth him a monster.

‘I do not blame you, or mother, I am not angry with you father. I never have been… I never could be. I-’ Ivar felt like he was physically choking on the words he was trying to say.

It was the first time he’d ever said them out loud before.

‘I love you Father, even if you broke my bones holding me I never wanted you to put me down.’ he said pressing his face into his father’s shoulder, and let Ragnar feel the tears soak into the fabric of his tunic.

‘You do not have to blame me, I will even allow you to be foolish enough to forgive me, but son, I will never forgive myself for the way I treated you. You and your brothers are one of the very few things that keep me in Midgard, and I do not deserve the love and respect you all show me. I have wronged you all, in unforgivable ways.’

‘I have never heard you admit to being wrong.’ Ivar said around the lump that had formed in his throat as he at last got a hold of his emotions.

‘Do not get used to it, it will never happen again and I will deny it if you tell any other living thing.’ his father said, his voice once again becoming lighthearted.

Their emotional conversation had ended, and he knew that neither he nor his father would ever mention it again. Not to each other or to anyone else.

Not even the Princess would hear of this, he would keep this moment selfishly to himself for the rest of his life.

A comfortable silence fell over the two men and lasted until they were finally in the palace, where Ragnar placed his son down and placed the crutches down, sending them a distasteful glance.

Ivar looked over at the others and saw that they were still raving over the festivities and their eagerness for sleep and he looked back to his father.

‘I know I do not need them, father, but I do want them. I want to stand tall among other men, I'm tired of looking up at those I know are beneath me.’ he whispered as he pulled himself up on his crutches.

‘I will not use them forever, I will improve them…and myself.’ he promised.

Ragnar sighed and placed a sudden, unexpected kiss on Ivar’s temple and whispered into his ear in confidence.

‘You will be a man to be feared one day, Ivar the Boneless. Your broken body will never be able to contain your mind and violence.’

With those last words Ragnar went back to the group and he along with Aslaug retired to their chambers.

His brothers and the Tunisians all quickly followed suit, and gave quick and polite goodbyes before going their own ways as well.

‘Let us also retire. I am absolutely exhausted.’ (Y/N) said and indeed she looked like her will alone was keeping her upright.

‘Yes, I’m sure that kind of dancing used up all your energy.’ Ivar agreed and soon they began their journey to their newly shared chamber.

‘I enjoyed dancing to your heart beat. It beats in alignment with my own.’ she remarked as they entered.

Inside they were met with their respective servants who must have brought in their things before joining the feast, as all their things were now properly in place in the chamber.

To Ivar’s surprise and delight the princess sent them both away.

Occasionally on the journey the princess would feel very affectionate and would like to undress Ivar herself; it was another thing he came to rely on while they shared space on the ship.

He would always eagerly offer to undress her in return, she would graciously accept and they would lie in each other’s arms as they slept through the night.

Tonight, however, she was more slow in removing his tunic than she usually did and he could tell by the distanced look in her eye as her hands moved that her mind was not truly in this moment.

‘I will not be at your side when you wake my love.’ she said as she discarded the clothing.

‘How long will your hunt last?’

‘As long as it takes, after the hunt is complete I will be taken to the Skinner's hut to fashion the cloak alone. Every three days a hunting party will be sent after me, if I were to forfeit, they would escort me back safely. In which case I will have failed, and we would not have the blessing of the Great and Many.’

‘Then we would not marry.’ Ivar concluded.

A pregnant silence set in over the two of them as they undressed and remained even as they lay in each other's arms.

‘Can I make a request for my cloak?’ Ivar said at last.

‘Of course.’

‘Something warm. I will want to wear it often and the weather back home is not as nice as this.’ he said with a smile.

He hoped she understood what he was saying between his words; prayed she understood that he had confidence she would succeed and they would marry.

Ivar only needed to meet her watering eyes to know she did understand him, and more than anything else she needed his confidence in her.

‘I’ve trained since the day Sven left with his party, and I am even bold enough to call myself a warrior, but I have never hunted alone.’ she confessed.

‘I had never known true combat until our Matrimonial Fight.’ Ivar returned.

He was surprised that she looked so surprised.

‘Are you trying to console me?’ the princess accused.

‘I am being truthful. Sure on occasion my brothers include me in a bit of roughhousing, or I may even initiate a scuffle but they are never actually aiming to overtake me. Our fights are never true.’ Ivar replied.

‘I knew when I fought with you there would be no holding back on your part, you fought me as an equal and you hit where it hurt.’

The princess’s accusing eyes softened before she hid her face in his chest.

‘I did apologize. ‘ she yawned sleepily.

‘Nothing to forgive, I loved it. I loved fighting you, watching how skilled you are, seeing that look in your eyes as you look for a new place to aim. And if you hunt as well as you fight I imagine I won’t be waiting a full week.’ Ivar encouraged.

Ivar whispered soft assurances and praises until he heard her soft snores, and even still he kept silently praising her, hoping that his Gods would hear his love for her and give her protection.

As he himself finally fell into slumber he even hoped the Great and Many would watch over her as well.

When Ivar woke up he had known (Y/N) wouldn’t be there, but he was still disappointed by her absence.

A small pebble was suddenly thrown into the room, noisily hitting the floor.

‘I am awake, Trya.’ Ivar sighed as he sat up to see his thrall entering the princess’s chamber holding a Tunisian shield.

‘My Prince, did you not sleep well? Should I call for the healers?’ the woman asked, the concern for his legs showing on her face.

‘My legs are no worse than I can handle, and my sleep was sound.’ he assured her as she began to dress him.

‘You have gotten used to her being there.’ Trya realized, but immediately she went red with embarrassment at her impulsive speaking.

‘I’m sorry Prince Ivar.’ she said quickly.

‘No need to apologize when you are right, if anything I should apologize in advance for my bad mood while she is away.’

‘If I may say, I think she will return sooner than you think and with a noble animal fur just for you. In the meantime there is a beautiful village to explore and such wonderful people to meet.’ Trya offered.

Ivar knew the old woman was simply trying to cheer him up, and she was even right; but he found little comfort in her words as he left the room on his crutches.

Just as he began to wonder where he should go without (Y/N) to guide him through the unfamiliar palace, one of her servants, Kya, rounded a corner and approached him.

‘Meal before.’ she mumbled in broken Norse.

‘We are in your homeland, no need to speak a foreign language for my sake.’ he said in perfect Derja.

The girl let out a sigh of relief and began speaking in her mother language.

‘It is time for first meal, I will take you to the great hall .’ she said, her tone very confident and proper in her own dialect, before leading him through the labyrinth of halls.

Ivar was led into a large room where both royal families were sitting on the floor in a circle, all of them eating some type of bread and dipping it into something steaming hot from their bowls.

‘Ivar you must try this porridge, their spices are so flavorful.’ Hvitserk said as Ivar lowered himself down as gracefully as he could.

‘I must agree, we will definitely be trading a great deal of spices in the near future.’ Ragnar agreed, his own bowl nearly empty before Ivar had even received his portion.

The flavor of the porridge was very strong and delicious, and the bread was more grainy than the bread back home.

‘It is delicious.’ Ivar complimented as he ate with a bit more vigor.

After all, he had a long journey on the ship and had drank far too much at the feast.

‘I’m sure if my future daughter in law were here she would be flattered.’ Aslaug said, surprising everyone.

‘(Y/N) made this meal?’ Ivar asked, truly questioning how his mother knew this.

His mother sat aside her now empty bowl and looked at him in earnest, as she always had. As if she hadn’t ignored him from the moment he decided to sail here.

‘I was unable to sleep through your father’s snoring so I had a servant show me around the palace. The princess was in the kitchens, helping the cooks as they prepared her rations and first meal. We had a talk.’ the Norse Queen answered.

Ivar sent a look to his brothers, who looked equally as stunned, even his father had wide eyes.

Every word she just said went against everything they knew about their mother. Aslaug was often so drunk she could sleep through the harshest winter storm, she despised watching thralls work, and in all their lives they had never seen her set foot in any kitchen.

It hadn’t been a convenient coincidence, Ivar was certain his mother had snuck out of bed in the wee hours to speak to (Y/N) privately before her departure.

However, if anyone was waiting on Aslaug to explain her conversation with the princess, they were disappointed when she went back to her wine in silence.

‘Well then, what will you all like to do today?’ King Akashi asked the Norse royals.

‘We would like to walk through your markets. Your daughter tells us it was her most important duty as a child. The concept is both foreign and intriguing to all of us, plus we are eager to see in person the beautiful kingdom that raised our new princess.’ Ragnar replied.

‘Excellent, I shall give them a tour.’ Prince Ayo beamed as he stood excitedly.

‘Sit down.’ the queen said in a quiet but stern tone, the kind that came only from mothers and queens; and considering that she was both, her tone was truly powerful.

The child prince sighed in his defeat and sat back down on the floor.

‘You are not old enough yet my son, and you are not far enough along in your studies to walk the village and converse with the people. Until then you will spend your day with your tutors.’ the king said, seeing the upset on his son’s face.

‘I will send a servant to escort you through the markets, she will meet you at the castle gate.’

‘If I may.’ Ivar spoke up, politely asking to speak directly to the royal family, something (Y/N) had informed him was considered extremely polite.

The queen looked at him with a raised eyebrow before nodding her approval.

‘As my father has said, we are all eager to see your markets and kingdom today, but may I join the young prince with his tutors tomorrow?’

Now the queen was downright studying him, her gaze alone making the cripple straighten up his posture.

‘You wish to study here?’ she asked.

‘I have a great thirst for knowledge, like our All Father Odin, who traded his eye for it. It seems I already traded my legs at birth.’Ivar smiled charmingly, making a humorous face at the prince, who let out a small breath of laughter.

The queen smiled, seemingly against her better judgment.

‘Yes you may join the lessons tomorrow, I will have Bintu accompany you both to the library together tomorrow. She seems to want to get acquainted with you better.’ Queen Aza agreed.

‘Are you close with Bintu as well?’ Sigurd asked.

‘Of course, I personally chose Bintu to protect my daughter. She was my closest friend as a girl, had I ever chosen to propose a Matrimonial Fight she would be my instructor.’

‘I must say, while there are so many fascinating customs in your country, the one that fascinates me the most is your approach to your inferiors.’ Aslaug confessed.

‘No no no. I have no inferiors, my Queen Sister. I am Queen and I am the highest authority, but there isn’t one subject in all my kingdom that is inferior to me. Do you know how most commoners address queens in this country?’ the Tunisian Queen questioned.

When none of the Norse answered she smiled to herself.

‘Queen Mother; that is how I am addressed by every single one of my subjects. Queen to show me their respect, and Mother to show their love. Of course now the title is more than fitting.’ she explained, rubbing the roundness of her belly.

‘I may not know you well, Queen Sister, but I feel that the title was well earned. For I have never seen so many happy commoners, and I have certainly never met a young woman more amazing than your daughter. Truly you are Queen Mother, if I may, I’d like to accompany you today. I have been a Queen almost as long as I have been a Mother, but I am not blind to my shortcomings. I would like to learn from you, Queen Aza.’ Aslaug requested, her eyes never leaving the other woman’s.

At this Ragnar had to cover his mouth to silence his own gasp; Ivar was happy they were already sitting on the floor, had they been in chairs he is certain his brothers would have all fallen out of them in shock.

Years and years, all their lives, they all sat watching their mother drink away her affections and love for anyone other than Ivar. They had stopped expecting her love before they had even gotten their armrings. They never in their wildest dreams thought she cared enough to notice their disappointment in her as a mother.

Ivar looked over at his brothers and surely enough each of them had different expressions of shock.

Ubbe looked as if he simply couldn’t process what he’d heard, Hvitserk had dropped the grainy bread into his nearly empty bowl, Sigurd was wide eyed and his face was becoming red.

‘I would love your company, Queen Aslaug. In fact, I am quite done with first meal. I will await you in the throne room. I will send for Kya to accompany the rest of you through the markets.’ Aza said before holding out her hand to her husband.

King Akashi, who had been silently eating the last of his own meal while observing his guest, set aside his empty bowl and helped the queen rise to her feet.

The Tunisians bid their farewells, instructed a servant girl to give them a tour of the markets and departed.

As soon as the retreating footsteps could no longer be heard all eyes fell on Queen Aslaug, who had met their eyes confidently.

‘Do not look so stunned, have you not all wished for a better mother? A better woman to sit beside your great father on the throne? As I have no intention of losing my status, I must improve; at least that is the advice I was given.’ she said in Norse.

‘Why did you seek her out? You have been spiteful to all of us since the fight; you ignored us all nearly completely since she suggested sailing here.’ Ubbe asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

The hint of accusation was still noticed by his mother.

‘I had no ill intention, my son, I only meant to see her before she left for her hunt. A servant led me to the kitchens and there she was gathering her rations, we spoke and she left.’

‘What did you say to her?’ Ivar asked, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

‘She spoke to me, and I saw what about her you love. She is intelligent, wise and almost annoyingly well spoken. Though she hasn’t seen one of your fits yet, Ivar, I’m sure she will be able to control even your rage.’

The princes all looked between each other, wondering if the others believed a word of this; even Ragnar had been studying his wife to see if there were any visible signs of deception.

‘Mother, she is going on a hunt, alone, I don’t even know what kind of animals they have here. I need you to tell me with conviction that you did not upset her before she left to do something so dangerous.’ he was pleading with his mother.

Aslaug stood from the floor and looked around at her family.

‘I do not know why I sought her out, I don’t know what I wanted to say to her. I know what she said to me. That she can see the weeds of hate growing in all of your eyes when you look my way. That your frowns deepen when I speak to you directly no matter what I say…and now I can see how right she was.’ Aslaug said with a truly hurt expression painting her face.

‘You think I would be so spiteful to try and sabotage her hunt Ivar? Even you? It seems I have been far worse a mother than I thought.’ she said, her voice beginning to shake as her eyes misted.

Before Ivar had a chance to let the guilt take hold of his heart fully his mother had turned and left the rest of them to their now unappealing bowls of porridge.

The room was quiet, everyone needed to digest more than the food; Aslaug’s words had left a bitter taste in their mouths.

‘Do you believe her?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Of course not, she has been wretched since she birthed us, that doesn’t change after one talk.’ Sigurd dismissed with irritation.

‘She seemed upset, maybe she does regret the way she raised us.’ Ubbe said in her defense.

‘How could you think so, Ubbe? What raising did we get from her? It was while she was meant to be raising us that you and Hvitserk fell through ice and nearly died. In her “care” Bjorn lost his first daughter! The only time the truth comes out of her mouth is when she knows it will hurt.’ Sigurd spat angrily.

‘She is your mother, Sigurd. You owe her your life and respect.’ Ragnar said, a hint of a warning in his tone.

The circle was tense now, despite the fragility of their marriage Aslaug was still Ragnar’s wife and not many Viking men allow their wives to be insulted in their presence.

‘I had no say in who my mother was Father, did I? Even still you are right, I owe her respect…just as she owes us her love, but unfortunately for her I no longer want it.’ Sigurd replied just as stubborn as he had been as a child as he stood up.

‘I will wait at the gate for the escort.’ he said formally before leaving.

Ivar watched Sigurd in a mixture of annoyance and understanding, no one could deny that Sigurd had been the most hurt by Aslaug’s neglect growing up. He was always the one to interrupt their chess games to ask if they could have a walk all together, and he was always turned away.

‘I know your mother was…is a hard woman to understand and that it was hard growing up when I would sail away, but I know her. For better or worse I can read that woman’s heart like fresh carved runes, and I think she is being genuine. Now if you excuse me, I believe I need to have a private conversation with my son.’ Ragnar sighed tiredly before he followed Sigurd.

‘What do you think, Ivar?’ Ubbe asked his youngest brother.

‘I think…my betrothed did speak with her, and I think the conversation went more or less the same way she says it does. What I don’t know is if she is accepting that conversation as a friendly warning or a threat.’

‘You think she would sabotage (Y/N)’s hunt?’ Hvitserk asked in shock.

‘At first I will admit I did think her capable of it, but in my heart I know that isn’t like her. I know I should have no say in it seeing how she doted on me, but she has never gone out of her way to hurt any one of us. I don’t think she ever would.’ Ivar answered honestly.

‘He is right, Mother never cared enough to be cruel to us, sure she poured love onto Ivar, but Ivar is going to marry. Who will be there for her to pour on to? Ragnar?’ Ubbe said strategically, as if he were discussing a battle in a war room, not his own mother.

‘So she wants our love now that Ivar has his own woman.’ Hvitserk realized.

The room fell into one last long silence before Hvitserk noisily slurped down the very last of porridge in his bowl and stood up.

‘Well,I’m flattered to finally be worth her affections, however, what she does will have no true effect on me, but I will not discourage her efforts.’ The middle son declared before he too left.

‘What about you Ubbe? Do you still long for Mother’s love?’ Ivar asked.

‘You know, I remember the day we fell through the ice.’ Ubbe said, surprising Ivar.

Neither Ubbe or Hvitserk ever spoke about that terrible day, no matter how strategically he and Sigurd asked about it growing up; and they had asked quite often back then.

‘We had followed mother and Harbard, because why not, it was too cold for fishing obviously and we were too young to hunt back then. They went into a hut and we went to get a closer look but there was a noise…a calling so inviting and pleasant it carried us away.’

Ivar didn’t want to reply and pull his brother out of his sharing mood so he just listened and let Ubbe speak freely. He had never seen his eldest brother look so lost in his own mind while talking before, it seemed as if he was doing more than remembering. He was there all over again, a small boy out exploring with his brother on a winter's day.

‘It promised such fun and we were so excited we didn’t realize how far we had walked, but we did notice when the snowy grass became ice beneath our feet, but the call assured us and on we walked further out on the ice. Siggy, do you remember her?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Of course, Rollo’s wife.’ Ivar provided.

‘She was a kind woman to us, mother often left us in her care and she had seen us on the lake, she tried to call out for us but what was her small far away voice to a call only we could hear? A call that must have been from the Gods? She chased after us but it was too late, the ice cracked and the call stopped as soon as we fell into the freezing water.’

Ubbe seemed to not even see Ivar sitting across from him anymore, he was lost in the memory of coldness.

‘The water was so much colder than the ice had been, or at least that’s how it felt, cold all over my body, cold water in the lungs. In that cold do you know what I thought, Ivar?’

Ivar shook his head no, and waited eagerly for the answer.

‘I want my mother.’ Ubbe said softly, leaning in closer, as if this was his most precious secret.

‘I wanted to feel the warmth of her embrace and for her to whisper soothing words into my ear to assure me I would not be forced out of Midgard so soon. I even thought maybe she’d heard my silent cries and rescued us, but it was only Siggy pulling us out of the ice. Harbard was there, and she managed to give us to him before her own life was taken by that cold water. After Harbard had brought us to Mother she asked him to heal us and once he had she sent us off to bed for rest…without ever touching us.’

Ivar, who of course saw that his mother showed him more love than his brothers, was stunned by just how cold the woman had truly been to her other children.

As Ivar chewed over his rapid change in family dynamics his bride to be was walking vast dry hunting grounds.

She was brought some comfort in the fact she wasn’t in completely new territory. She had gone on at least a dozen hunts in this area. Of course those hunts had been with full hunting parties of at least ten.

Hunting in large groups was a common practice throughout the world because the simple fact was that there is power in numbers. More hunters mean more game can be caught, and the hunters had a stronger sense of security knowing that there would be more people able to watch their blind spots in case of predator attacks.

More than that, for (Y/N) at least, hunting in a group simply made the experience of hunting much more pleasant. She remembers talking with the others as they walked for hours to the waterhole where most game favored to drink and bathe.

Now she was alone and could not afford any such pleasantries. She had to keep her ears and eyes sharp, there was no one there to assist her in spotting anything that may be lying in wait.

Another benefit of hunting parties, she had come to understand quickly, was that it entailed more provisions. She had a large canteen of water that weighed heavily on her hip, but she knew it would be all she had until she reached the water hole.

And that was a half day’s journey and as heavy as it felt the canteen only had so much water inside. So she ignored the dryness of her mouth, resigned not to drink until the sun was fully in the sky.

Along with her water canteen she had a variety of tools and rope to make shelter, her father’s blade, an ax, twenty ready made arrows to go with the bow she carried by hand and a fortnight's worth of food in the pack she had on her back. One fortnight’s worth of food.

One fortnight worth of food.

One fortnight, that is two weeks.

Two weeks is fourteen days.

She repeated these things mentally every mile or so, she was determined to keep track of the time. If she allowed herself to lose her senses she could find herself out here alone with nothing to eat, no water and no choice but to wait for the rescue party.

No. Even if it did come to that she would refuse to return, and that would mean staying not only to hunt for a beast but also hunting to survive.

The thought of scavenging for berries in the dry lands was almost as discouraging as the thought of wasting arrows on smaller prey before finding her true target.

Whatever that target may be; she thought guiltily.

She had promised Ivar a grand cloak worthy of his Gods but she had no idea what that even meant yet alone what animal she would hunt. Luckily the water hole would be sure to have a variety of beasts to choose from.

After what she guessed had been four hours the sun was finally shining at its highest point in the sky. She took the canteen from her side and took a singular large swallow of cool water before closing it off again, but she held the container to her forehead to feel the coolness of the water inside.

It had to be at least noon now, that meant about six more hours until she was at the water hole, but that would mean arriving at by nightfall and that wasn’t wise. She would have to stop and make her shelter for the night.

A large cluster of boulders and a tiny cluster of palm oil trees in the distance told her she had in fact remembered the path from her previous hunts.

The rocks were where her hunting party usually sought shelter. The formation of the boulders created a sort of rocky valley and with wood and leaves from the trees a roof and walls can be fashioned.

(Y/N) took special care in looking around for any signs of a predator before she removed her pack and dug out some dried biltong and a piece of plantain bread.

She kept alert as she ate quickly, wanting to make sure she didn’t stay here long enough to be found by any thing, but she also wanted to savor the chewiness of the antelope meat, and the bread was so filling on her empty stomach it felt as warm as an embrace.

Once the last of the bread had been eaten (Y/N) picked up her pack again and continued on, still chewing the last bite of biltong, trying to extend the longevity of its flavor and the mere illusion of eating. After she had finally resigned to swallow the over chewed meat she again took a single drink from her canteen, this time only a sip as it was less about true thirst and more a desire to wash down her brief meal.

The further she walked the more she thought over her plans for when she reached the boulders.

First she would find the best spot in between the rocks that required the least amount of material to fortify. Then she would go and gather the wood and palm leaves to make the roofing and walls, after that she would go again to the trees for firewood to keep her warm once night fell.

She tried not to get too comfortable or confident but so far she was pleased with her progress. She had yet to come across so much as an antelope so far and if there were no prey animals near her that meant the chances of predators were much lower.

Of course that also meant if she did encounter a hungry meat eater it would probably be extremely eager to eat the first thing it found.

With that in mind she kept her grip firm on her bow as she pushed on.

It was when she was only about an hour away from her destination that she heard a rustling in the grass behind her that was too isolated and sudden to have been wind.

With an alarming quickness she pulled an arrow from her pack and raised her bow, aiming at the direction of the noise.

It was quiet again, but she was certain she’d heard something and she wasn’t going to turn around or move on until she found and killed whatever had made that sound.

She focused her gaze and scanned through the tall yellow grass for anything out of place. She kept a special look out for spots and stripes; this was big cat territory.

A final second of quiet passed before finally the grass rustled again, and this time she had seen exactly where the grass moved.

Without hesitation she released the arrow and several things seemed to happen all at once to her.

Of course things had happened one at a time, and they happened in this exact order.

First; the arrow flew like lightning into the tall grass, second; a loud pitiful roar cut through the air, and thirdly a lion had leapt out of its hiding place.

With no small amount of fear and an even larger amount of alarm the princess readied another arrow and began back stepping, she knew better than to turn her back to this beast.

Now that it was out of the tallest grass she could see it was a truly pathetic thing. Its mane was shaggy and matted, several scabby bald patches that had been licked raw from over grooming littered his back legs and it was so unsightly thin even in her panic she could see its protruding rib cage.

Her arrow stuck out of its left front leg in a vulgar way as it tried weakly to chase her down, but already her fear was subsiding.

Even as she backed away to put distance between her and the lion so that she could have a clear clean shot, (Y/N) could see that the arrow wasn’t the only thing slowing down her attacker.

Yes it limped on its injured front leg, but it made a huffing whimpering noise every time his right hind leg hit the ground. Clearly something had tussled with this frail thing before she had and it seemed that unknown creature had done her a great kindness.

Once she was confident in the distance between them she released the second arrow and watched it land true as it sunk into the lion's skull and the weak body fell into the dirt with a soft thud.

A final breath escaped its mouth and sent up a small cloud in the dry dirt it now laid lifelessly upon.

With the beast taken down she found herself breathing hard, her adrenaline still racing as she approached it.

Up close she could better inspect it to see if this had been it, if this could be THE beast.

However, no amount of optimism could allow her to overlook the matted shabby dark mane, the many bald patches she could see in the lion’s coat or the clearly visible bites they exposed.

No, this wouldn’t even be worth skinning, not for her husband's cloak, but still leaving it here was not an option, it would attract scavengers and most of those were pack animals. So she took out her ax and made quick work of dismembering the lion and then did her best to wrap the remains in the blanket she intended to sleep under.

It was too heavy to lift alone so she attached the sack to a rope and dragged it the rest of the way to the boulders. By the time she had reached her destination her legs and arms were more sore than they had ever been in all her years of training, but she didn't stop to rest.

Just as she had planned she found a small rectangular spot that was perfectly spaced between two boulders that stood twice as high as she did. There she sat the lion sack before she went to fetch the wood and palm leaves. The sun would be setting soon and she would not be out in the open with a fresh kill at her side when it happened.

She chopped and dragged long branches for one hour, then she fashioned two walls about one foot taller than herself using rope to tie the branches together, tying the leaves together to keep out the wind. She installed her walls by burying the branches in the dirt making sure they were firmly planted. The roof was easier to make since she had to leave a spot open for smoke to escape.

Finally, just as she had tied the last bit of rope securing the roof to the walls the sun was beginning to set. She made her final trip to the grove of trees for firewood and quickly returned to her newly built shelter.

Her fire was burning strong as the sun set, but she did not lay down, she sat beside the fire watching the flames as she thought one thing over and over.

What beast was worthy of Ivar the Boneless?

[unheardcorner]

Vision of Love

When I fall in love, I’ll long to escape with him to the quiet embrace of nature—perhaps by the sea or a gentle river, or beneath a sky full of stars. We’ll drive together to some far-off place, and from the top of our car, we’ll talk for hours, listening to the world fall silent around us. I’ll hide our kiss behind a cap or a book, stealing a moment just for us, and tell him softly how much I love him.

After a long day of work, I’ll surprise him with flowers and perhaps a bottle of wine. We’ll cook together, filling the kitchen with laughter as though we’re celebrating a festival just for us. We'll dance to our favorite songs, sing together, and live our love in all the little moments that make life beautiful.

We’ll plan our days thoughtfully, sharing adventures like pottery classes, shaping more than just clay—shaping memories. And on quieter days, I’ll visit him at work, offering a surprise coffee date. Then, we’ll drive to the beach to sit hand in hand, waiting for the sunrise, as the world awakens around us.

I want to shower him with gifts, not just of things, but of meaning. A watch, so he’ll think of me every time he checks the time, a perfume that captures the essence of our love, a scent he’ll always associate with us. As I learn guitar and piano, I’ll write him songs and play them in the stillness of our living room. I’ll write him into my poetry, gifting him words that express all the feelings we share. And if he loves books, I’ll fill our shelves with stories we can read together, discussing them for hours, connecting not only through our love but through our minds.

Our mornings will begin with music, as we listen to songs while we hustle to work, setting the rhythm of our day. I’ll kiss him goodbye when he leaves, and when he comes home, I’ll greet him with all the warmth and affection I have, holding him close as if to say, "You’re safe with me."

Perhaps we’ll take baths together sometimes, sharing those quiet, intimate moments, or maybe we’ll exercise together, strengthening our bodies as we strengthen our bond.

We’ll travel to new places, walk down unfamiliar streets, hand in hand, rowing boats on quiet lakes, and laughing as we play in the snow. We’ll nurture life together, tending to a garden that grows alongside our love.

There will be moments of conflict, but I hope we’ll always be honest and open with one another, sorting things out with heart-to-heart conversations. I’ll throw random "I love you’s" and kisses his way, never letting the spark of affection dim. But through it all, we’ll respect each other’s need for personal space, knowing that love grows best when both are allowed to breathe.

In those intimate moments, I’ll want to share more than just physical closeness. I’ll want to share my soul with him, creating a connection that runs deeper than words.

This man, this love—that will be my husband. And to him, even now, I say, "I love you."

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Cis Swap (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

“Are you seriously trying to make me jealous?” (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Speaking for the first time in a while, Phoebe says, “I think I will take some air.” She hears the clack of heels behind her and turns around. Dani has joined her outside.

A ficlet about regency and remembering.

chaos in bloom (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: The adventures of Dan and Phyl, ghost removal experts.

Contraband (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Dani is ridiculously pale, and Phoebe knows that’s the pot calling the kettle pale. But she’s too worried to laugh about her own dumb joke, because Dani is also shivering and has been feeling poorly almost as long as she’s been in Manchester. She’s wrapped up in a burrito of Phoebe’s brightly coloured duvet and her face frowns out at Phoebe.

A fic about sickness and hand holding.

festive (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: “You’re like...sexy Mrs. Claus,” she says, reaching out to touch, mouth hanging open.

i see you (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: Fiona sees more than Dani thinks she does.

ivy (covered in you) (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: Dani’s job now is to be guided - she is used to living in the darkness with Fiona, but for once they are headed toward the light

in the woods somewhere (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: After Dani bit Fi, Fi started to change too.

Is it serious? (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: In which Fi doesn’t have a ride home, Dani gives her one, they make out in her car, and there is just a little bit of discussion of feelings. Can be read on its own or as a sequel to my Curious songfic.

Laundry & Taxes (ao3) - serendipnpipity

Summary: In the world of yazisnotonfire and AmazingFiona, Yazi Howell still doesn't know how to do her laundry.

leaned a bit too hard (ao3) - jailedmoonshine

Summary: Growing up, Phil resented her name. She already didn't care for dresses and heels, so it was even harder convincing people she was actually a girl. As the years pass and her styles change, she decides to stop for a pint at a pub along her drive, giving her body a chance to breathe from the chill that was coming in.

Hang on... is that a nun?

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her) (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Dani is missing. She comes back, but something is different.

AKA lesbian vampire hozier songfic

our secret moments (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: It’s a little bit exhilarating, the way they’d run, actually run down the hallway and crammed their tall bodies into this tiny alcove. Fiona hadn’t even given either of them a chance to calm down or catch their breath; she had just pushed Dani against the wall with her own body and started kissing her.

pizza, fluffy towels, blankets and horror movies (ao3) - watergator (orphan_account)

Summary: phoebe likes coming home to someone warm

rain is always gonna come (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: "I don't deserve you." She doesn't mean for it to slip out, at least not in that tone of voice. It feels too raw, too real, too close to what she's been lying awake with every night for months now. (Dani and Fi and depression, early years edition.)

Red wine supernova (ao3) - Cecil_Is_Drowning

Summary: Sister Daniel met the most awesome girl she'd ever met at a concert, but small issue, she forgot to tell her Roommate before bringing this (amazing) girl home.

run away with me (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp

Summary: Dee and Fi break the rules just a little bit.

sex on the beach (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: The bartender is hot, and she definitely knows it. Phoebe feels herself getting more and more resentful the farther into her second drink she gets.

Sunkissed (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Phoebe isn’t a swimmer. But that somehow makes her love this all the more— the holiday quiet, the lull between legs of their world tour, the sound of the Australian jungle around them but other than that only the sound of Phoebe kicking and splashing.

A fic about playing and rationales.

taking the veil (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: Twenty-two year old YouTuber Phillippa Lester accompanies her Dad on his trip to fulfill a commission to create a piece of art for a family friend who is living a monastic life in an abbey in the south of England. Angry at her parents and lacking other plans, eighteen-year old Dan Howell tags along with her grandma on an annual, summertime trip of her own: a two week secluded religious retreat at the same abbey.

the ladyknight dan fic (ao3) - baroquens

Summary: It's 1138, and Civil War is stirring in England. In the North, rumors of a Scottish invasion have begun to spread. Dan is a knight whose disguise as a man has recently fallen to pieces. Phil is the odd daughter of a country lord. They fall in love. This is a story about some of those things.

would you tell me if you want me (ao3) - rainbowroshenpower

Summary: AOL messenger

- D: baii ttyl <3 :) Thurs 9:08 PM

Fri 11:01 AM

- P: Why don't you come visit Manchester sometime ;) |

2009 wlw phan meeting for the first time but w lesbian tension. Phil is Pippa and Dan is Lara for the twin peaks truthers.

[tessa-liam]

Smoke and Mirrors

9-Hidden in Plain Sight 

Book: The Royal Romance Finale, AU

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer’. 

Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘LiRi’ 

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy 

*Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

*Not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings:  NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking/gun violence. Not recommended for anyone under 18 years of age. 

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 2394 

Chapter Summary: It’s the evening of the Celebration Ball and the big reveal of the Royal twins. Lena is interrogated by Interpol. Liam and Leo discuss a potential threat to the kingdom. 

Smoke and Mirrors

9- Hidden in Plain Sight 

Music Inspiration: Sway, Michael Buble; Claire De Lune, London Symphony Orchestra; Late Night Talking, Harry Styles 

A/N2: My submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, @midnightmelodiz , Day 6 – Dreams, Day dream, “I’m in love with you?” 

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics @jerzwriter Week #49, Prompt 1- “You take my breath away every time I see you.” 

The King’s chamber was illuminated only by the soft light of the full moon where the King and Queen lay together. Riley was fast asleep, her head resting on Liam’s chest, her very pregnant belly snuggled safely against his side. Liam looked over at his sleeping wife, his heart swelling with love for her and their sons. In three short weeks, his family will grow to five; that time coming very quickly now.

Cordonian Royal Palace

He lay awake; sleep eluding him again for another night. Mentally organizing his schedule for the upcoming month, his thoughts eventually returned to that conversation with Drake that they had on the beach the day before. His confession...

‘Watching you with Brooks, all these years... I want that too.’ 

‘Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting.’ 

Sighing, Liam was pleasantly surprised when he heard a soft voice. 

No one else would have caught it, but Liam did. He ‘read between the lines’ of what Drake had said, like he was remembering a bad dream. Did Drake just admit that he still had feelings for his wife? Were those feelings that he had years ago still present and relevant to him? 

“How long have you been awake?” Riley whispered. 

He kissed her forehead and placed his hand on her baby bump. Stroking her belly, he could feel the soft kicks under his palm.

“Not long, love” he murmerred.

“What are you thinking about?” Liam hesitated before answering. 

Riley turning her head to look up at him, “you think too much sometimes.” 

“A conversation that I had. I am not quite sure if it was real or if it was a daydream.” Liam kept his answer opaque on purpose, not wanting to divulge too much detail to her. 

Liam chuckled, “Are you complaining?” 

“Never,” she replied, yawning. “I love you,” she added sleepily. 

His body relaxed, as he closed his eyes, “I love you more.” he murmured, tightening his arm around her protectively. 

Cordonian Palace Ballroom 

The Ballroom was filled with guests awaiting the King’s announcement scheduled for later in the evening. 

Royalty from neighboring kingdoms, nobility, politicians, and ambassadors from allied countries came from long and short distances to partake in the black-tie festivities. Music filled the air as waitstaff circulated amongst the crowd with glasses of wine and flutes of champagne. 

“I’m glad you decided to attend this event with me,” Olivia said smiling at Alex. 

“I must be honest with you, Livvie. I usually attend these functions as the enforcer. I am not used to wearing a ‘monkey suit’,” Alex smirked. He seemed to be comfortable among all the guests, nonetheless. 

Olivia grinned back at her partner, but her smile quickly faded when she spotted Amalas and Leo huddled together on the other side of the dance floor. They appeared to be deep in conversation and were not paying any attention to their surroundings.  

Alex noticed Olivia’s expression change. “Everything okay?” he asked with concern. She nodded, trying to force the smile back onto her lips. 

“I thought that Leo was coming on his own tonight.” 

“Liv, that doesn’t mean that he can't talk to anyone once he gets here,” Alex rebutted. Olivia sighed loudly and continued to watch the couple from afar. 

A waiter approached, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Alex accepted a small sampling as Olivia continued to study the couple without saying another word. Alex shook his head; he knew what was bothering her.   He also wished, he was mistaken.

As the orchestra began to play the first few notes of the Cordonian national anthem, the press began to gather around the dais waiting for the King to enter the ballroom. 

The King’s guard fell into strategic positions when the herald announced the arrival of the Royal family. 

Liam strode up to the lectern that was atop the dais wearing his full military regalia. Riley, walking with Eleanor, joined him and stood next to his side. Regina and Leo stood close by next to the dais. 

The crowd hushed in anticipation. Clearing his throat once before speaking, Liam began, “Good evening, everyone,” he proclaimed. 

“It is my pleasure and honor to welcome you all here tonight. I know many have been waiting patiently for the queen and I to make an official announcement concerning our ‘additions’ to the Royal family.”  Liam turned to wink at Riley.

The ballroom attendees erupted in whoops and cheers. 

Liam acknowledged his delighted guests with a broad smile and waited a few minutes for the accolades to subside. Continuing with, “thank you, thank you!” 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to have my princess here to help me....” Liam turned and beamed, chuckling as Ellie clapped her hands with a peal of laughter as her uncle Leo scooped her up and joined his brother. 

“Well, Ellie, what do you think?” Leo asked, smirking at Liam. 

“Daddy, look.” Ellie exclaimed and pointed to a bevy of blue balloons filled with helium that were being released behind the crowd overtop the dance floor. 

“Everyone, our twin boys, our princes, are expected to arrive at the end of this month.” Liam lifted Riley’s hand tenderly to kiss. 

Riley joined Liam as he took her hands and led her to stand beside him at the lectern.  

Thrilled at the excitement, Liam continued once the audience returned their attention back to him.

Liam waited for the crowd to settle down after the announcement. 

The applause was deafening as everyone celebrated. 

After posing for pictures by the press, Liam led Riley to the dance floor as the orchestra began to play the beginning notes of ‘Clair de Lune’. As they danced, it felt like time stood still; as guests formed a circle around them, Liam kissed Riley’s hand and placed it atop his chest over his heart as they swayed together in time to the music.  

“It must have something to do with the love of my life in my arms,” Liam simpered. 

“How is it, that.... Liam,” as she smoothed down his lapels, “you take my breath away every time I see you.” 

“Always the charmer, Your Majesty." Riley whispered, kissing his lips sweetly. 

*** 

Drake held Delaney close to his chest as they watched the King and Queen move together in the center of the dance floor. 

“They look so perfect together,” Delaney sighed. Her voice was laced with envy. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone special someday.” Drake answered sarcastically. 

Delaney laughed. “That’s so easy for you to say.” Slapping his arm.

Drake grinned, “you'are damn straight, Leigh. When I first met you, I had no idea what my future would hold. You showed me things that I had only dreamed of having with someone. … and I have treasured every minute of your love.”  

 Growling, he leaned over and kissed her fiercely on the lips. Just as Riley and Liam walked past them. Delaney noticed the look on Drake’s face when he locked eyes with Riley. It gave her an uneasy feeling. He seemed to be lost in thought.  

Smiling playfully at him, Delaney asked in jest, “I’m in love with you too?"  

She frowned. “Something wrong?” 

His eyes shifted away from Riley, and he shook his head. 

“No, nothing at all.”  

But he didn’t fool her. Delaney, now was positive that her concerns were justified, stepped back. 

“Good evening, you two.” Riley beamed as she turned towards Delaney and Drake.  

“You two are getting married! Congratulations...I am so happy for you both.” Riley put her arm around her shoulder for a side hug.

“Thank you so much,” Delaney replied, hugging Riley in return. 

“Yes, congratulations you two,” Liam reached over to kiss Delaney’s cheek. 

“I am impressed, Walker.” Riley snickered as she hugged her friend.  

“Wow, settling down and saying goodbye to the bachelor life.” Liam smirked, shaking Drake's hand.

“Who would have thought,” Riley chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah, Brooks, get your shots in now.” Drake responded, not making eye contact. 

Interrogation Room A, Interpol Headquarters, Lyon, France 

Lena sat back on her chair with her hands folded in her lap. She was flanked by two men in dark suits. One of the men was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair. His name was detective Lefebvre, and he had been assigned by Inspector Ryerson to investigate her case. The other man was the head of Psychiatrics and was assigned to conduct an evaluation of her psychological state by King Liam Rys of Cordonia. 

Across the table, sat Lena’s legal defense attorney, assigned to represent her by the Royal estate of Vallenheim. 

Detective Lefebvre cleared his throat. 

“Miss Runarsdottir, I understand you are familiar with the Cordonian Royal family?” 

Lena nodded. “Yes, I have met King Constantine Rys, my father. My stepmother, Queen Sigrid, raised me when my mother Eleanor Rys was murdered. I know of but never met my brother Liam or my stepbrother Leo.” 

“And what do you know about them?” he asked. 

Lena’s mouth went dry. She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. 

“I don’t have any other information about them,” she lied. 

“Do you mean to tell me that you knew nothing about your brothers even though you were caught outside the buildings they were in this past summer?” 

Lena stared at him unflinching. 

“How did you know where to go?” he asked again. 

“I’m sorry, I can't help you.”  

Lefebvre slammed his fist against the table, making Lena jump in surprise. 

“Don't play with me. You’re either lying or delusional.” 

Lena bit her lip. She sat stoically and kept her emotions hidden. 

“I am not playing around. I have no information.” 

Feeling frustrated, Detective Lefebvre changed his strategy. 

“Miss Runarsdottir, who is Bastien Lykel? 

“Who?” 

“Bastien Lykel,” he repeated. 

Lena’s face paled. “I don’t know anyone named Bastien.” 

“Are you sure?” he pressed. 

“We have CCTV evidence of your conversation with him in the holding cells at the Cordonian Palace.” 

“I-I-” she stammered. 

“You were seen talking to him at least three times before you escaped those holding cells in Cordonia. Is that correct?” 

Again, Lena sat in silence. 

“Choose wisely, Miss Runarsdottir, and answer my questions. What is the nature of your relationship with Bastien Lykel?” 

Lena’s breathing quickened and her hands began to shake. If she told the truth, she was dead.

“Let the records show that Miss Runarsdottir is not cooperative.” 

Cordonian Ballroom 

Leo was speaking to Rashad at the bar when Liam approached after having a debate with an American ambassador. 

“Hey Li, I see you survived your conversation with Smithfield.” Leo smirked as Liam ordered a scotch and shot it back quickly. 

“Barkeep, another round for my brother and I’ll take the same.”  

“Why, thank you Leo.” Liam clapped his back. 

“Where is your beautiful Queen?” 

“Riley is upstairs with Ellie. Being so close to her due date, she needs to be off her feet to rest from tonight’s festivities. She is exhausted.” 

Leo nodded. “Totally understandable, but Li, why are you still down here?” 

“Because I need to talk with you and apologize about the other day.” Liam responded. 

“No apologies needed.  I was being an asshole and you called me out.” Leo grinned. 

“Well, I overreacted. You pressed a nerve when you mentioned father.” 

Leo smirked, “good, because I agree with you and I believe you are ‘right on the money’.  

Liam chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Again, that’s what makes you the better King,” Leo winked 

“I do have information for you." Leo continued. "Amalas gave me an update on Interpol’s case on Lena and Bastien.” 

‘Liam winces slightly at the mention of Lena, but he does not interrupt.’ 

“Lena is being uncooperative when questioned by the detectives. Nice touch, by the way, for assigning a psychiatrist to oversee her testimony.” 

“Well, it’s the least I could do knowing what father did to her, and her future.” 

“’Amalas has uncovered a few suspicious ‘coincidences’, but nothing damning enough’ to help shed light as to what her motives are.” 

“So far, the information that he divulged on the estate of Vallenheim has been verified as true. It was uncovered that he has affiliations with members of the Vallenheim royal guard.” 

“Has there been any progress on Bastien’s involvement?” Liam inquired.

“Director Ryerson has scheduled an official update for Monday morning with me. Apparently, Interpol has uncovered a black ledger. It was 'hidden in plain sight'." 

“Care to join me, Leo?” 

Leo responded, “I will be here.” 

📌 @ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @jared2612 @irisk12 @thesvnsins @walkerdrakewalker 📌

[starryriize]

what i associate with | xikers

a/n: this is a repost and tbh i think i might do this for all the groups i write for🫶🏼

minjae • puzzles, four leaf clovers, abstract art, waking up at 3am, old maps, stargazing while sitting in the trunk of a car, eating ice cream, watching movie marathons, bold colors, soft covers, kissing your lover at sunrise, making music with random objects, eating home cooked meals, the first day of spring

junmin • crisp suits, laughter that lasts too long to be a normal laugh, just dance battles, random acts of service, chinese checkers, watching cherry blossoms fall, going to shopping malls, dancing while cleaning the house, sushi conveyor belt dates, going to the zoo, playing ball with dogs, watching classic disney movies

sumin • watercolors, rain, pretty hairstyles, dark chocolate, kissing your shoulders, late night swims, skylights, city nightlife, comfortably wrapped in many blankets while watching reality shows, drinking milk out of a wine glass, wearing sunglasses to every occasion, playing music from a gramophone

jinsik • going for boba dates, water gun fights, pillow forts, karaoke that goes on for hours, spontaneous parties, celebrating every little accomplishment, color-coordinated outfits, playing genshin until there’s no more resin and quests to finish, staying up late and pulling an all nighter

hyunwoo • laying in an empty field, snowball fights, playing the piano while singing to you, running in the rain and laughing at how drenched you both are, watching vintage james bond films, going shopping for flower bouquets, walking through bookstores, arcade nights that last longer than expected from “friends”, sleepovers, going to the zoo to solely watch sharks

junghoon • dance dance revolution, watching tangled in the middle of the night, road trips to the nearest beach, nerves before competitions, classical concerts and seeing orchestras, slow dancing with your lover in an empty parking lot at night, spilling coffee on his shirt and giggling about it, dad jokes all the time, wanting to leave the party early to relax in bed, hot cocoa, stacks of books that have yet to be finished

seeun • teasing others out of love, going out for boba at noon and coffee at night, tripping over shoelaces, making comedy, watching the powerpuff girls, going to concerts, lego sets, evergreen trees, christmas lights that go on for miles, festival cotton candy, strawberry lemonade, waffle cone ice cream, relaxing baths after long days

yujun • watching cheesy romance shows, swimming when no one is there, buffets at expensive hotels, rewatching harry potter out of boredom, working out when no one is around except for friends, playing monopoly competitively, karaoke while drinking chocolate milk

hunter • teaching you how to make traditional thai dishes, going shopping together, picking flowers, iced coffees even in winter, afternoon tea, classical music, playing, silk pillowcases, go karting, playing video games until dinnertime, going for long walks, golfing in posh suits, m&m yogurt

yechan • laser tag, classic iced coke with ramen, playing many instruments for fun, watching detective shows, concerts in the shower, relaxing jazz, warm chai tea, falling leaves, beach balls, melting ice cream, silent giggles in a very serious situation, ferris wheel rides, chocolate dipped strawberries

[hiveswap]

I am a plains kid, irrepairably so. Having been born into an environment like mine has many effects on people: it can invoke poetry, instill a deep fear of heights, make them spit their lungs out from the slightest elevation of terrain.

I believe i recieved most of these gifts, though I don't believe the great flat fields are anything to write poetry about. There's fields of canola and wheat, sunflowers as far as the eye can see, and further east there's wild grasslands and mirages on the road in the summer heat, then further out, old wells that define so much of what the average Hungarian pictures when they think of Hortobágy.

I grew up next to water, not the clear blue water of Balaton or the salt spray of the sea, but a green river with jagged stones, sticky clay and husks of plants that pierce your foot if you dare bathe in it without shoes.

In the spring the mosquitoes and frogs and mayflies and weeping williows awake and fulfill their puprose as intended by their mother.

I have never seen a mayfly bloom, I cannot write poetry about that either.

In the summer, the buzz of tourists from far away fills my ears just as loudly as the buzz of the mosquitoes, who are so great in number that I begin to fear approaching our raspberry bushes in broad daylight. My mother still harvests it, in rubber boots and thick protective clothes.

There is nothing more to my town, i realise every year. When the tourists go, the lights of the festival and the faint smell of weed dies out, all that is left is ten thousand people struggling to get by, living in the remains of a town once known for better parties, better beaches, less mosquitoes.

About an hour north there's grapevines on the hills. I've tried to write poetry about those but I know nothing about wine, and nothing about the hills.

Yet further, between mountains not tall enough for fear yet tall enough to make me spit my lungs out as I walk, sits a city, one of men long dead and poetry long sung. I walk past a castle, and towers reaching towards the sky. Then I walk past a residential building pointing a molded, rotting finger towards the clouds.

I climb the staircase to the top of the tower and feel nothing, not the fear of heights and not the buzz of tourists on a wine tour.

Many hours south I see a mountain by a sea, the road on top so high above pristine blue waters that looking to the side makes my heart jump, just like when I saw the Balaton as a nine year old on my first summer trip with a mother who packed both our bags all alone.

Many hours south even from there, sits a continent forgein to me, just across the waves. I don't speak the tongues of the people in either of these places.

I feel a wave of safety, just a small wave of poetry. I will only ever return here as a stranger, as part of the buzz of tourists from far away.

I am not a poet, I do not write about the places I am a part of. I am an ill fitting brick in the wall of my homeland, i am a passerine migrating for the winter and feeling the vertigo of mountains and the stillness of the plains.

I will never see poetry in the plains, in the brick wall, in the mangled remains of a culture painted the sunset-colours of despair. I am a passerine building my lone nest, I am a plains kid, irrepairably so.

[aurorabayrpg]

EVENT 016 {OCTOBER 1ST - NOVEMBER 1ST} AURORA BAY’S HALLOWEEN FESTIVITIES - PART 1 & 2

Summer has come and gone, the temperatures are cooling, and pumpkin spice is in everything! It’s finally time for one of Aurora Bay’s biggest events thrown by Town Hall, Aurora Bay’s Halloween Festival!

For the last couple weeks in town, residents will have noticed that the town has slowly been putting up their fall decorations, with pumpkins taking their places at front door steps, paper ghosts in the windows, and even a few scarecrows around the square!

There will be plenty of family-friendly fun, but perhaps the most anticipated part of the festival will be the Halloween costume party held at Sharky's, our Monster Mash! Once again there will be a costume contest with plenty of prizes! More info will come later in the month.

OOC INFO BELOW:

Here's our next event, and just like last year, it'll be running all month long to give everyone plenty of time to plot and play with some Halloween scares!

Here's a list of some of just some of the things you'll find in town this year: (*If you'd like your shop to have anything special going on this month, please let us know so we can add it to the list!)

Botanical Gardens:

Corn Maze running daily (after 8pm it becomes haunted!)

Halloween lights and inflatables all around for a nightly lit-up walking trail

Food stands with kettle corn, caramel apples, etc.

Aurora Bay's Art Museum:

Running all month long, a special spooky art exhibit featuring unsettling works, haunted artifacts, and macabre paintings all while reading up on stories of famous artists throughout time that met gruesome (and oftentimes untimely) deaths.

Charles Levin Theater:

Join us all month long for the Theatre's production of The Phantom of the Opera. Keep your eyes up on the chandelier!

Sunrise Winery:

hard cider and mulled wine tastings

a pick-your-own pumpkin patch

pumpkin carving and painting stations

Sunset Drive-In:

Every weekend Sunset Drive-in will be showing Halloween movies, ranging from movies for children all the way to those super scary movies for the adults! Movie schedule will be posted around town for everyone to plan their movie nights!

Around town:

Hayrides (nighttime haunted rides running Friday thru Sunday evenings)

Specialty menus at shops like Sweet Nothings and Driftwood Coffee

Fall styles and Halloween costume items at Sea Glass Boutique and Hidden Gems Thrift Store

A haunted house open nightly- enter if you dare!

Pop-up candy spots all around town for an early trick-or-treat all month long!

and new this year, an Aurora Bay Haunted Tour!

Every evening, join a walking tour through places said to be haunted in town including the All-Nighter Diner, Aurora Bay's Lighthouse, and then to the docks to hear scary tales of merfolk that are said to reside just below Aurora Bay's waters.

Read about what you’ll learn on the haunted tour HERE

Neighborhoods:

Trick-or-treating will obviously take place on Halloween night, so make sure you have plenty of candy for all the little gremlins of our little beach town!

Halloween decorations on the lawns and houses of anyone wanting to participate (feel free to make posts of what those decorations look like and tag our aesthetics blog!)

Part Two:

Sharky's Monster Mash:

Sharky's will once again be holding their annual Halloween party, The Monster Mash! This will be part 2 of the event, so we'll let you know when it's time to post costumes and threads for this one!

Please feel free to make posts of your character's Halloween costumes and tag our aesthetic blog as well as tag it as #ab.halloween , as well as put your character's name and the name of who they're dressed as in the description! And if you're doing a couple's costume, make sure you tag your partner in there as well! This helps us admins keep up with everything!

Like last year, we'll reblog all the costumes to our aesthetics page and we'll make a masterlist of them all where muns can vote for their fave costumes!

Categories will be: best costume, best couples costume, funniest costume, sexiest costume, most creative costume!

A second post will be made for this part of the event, giving all the dates and more info on the party!

RULES: (this will be expanded on during part 2!)

Players do not have to participate in Sharky's Halloween party, decorating houses, or dressing up if they do not wish to!

Per usual, the first 5 open starters may be posted without muns replying to others first, but if open starters have plenty of notes or you've already replied to them, feel free to go ahead and post another!

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The End of the World

She hobbled beneath the canopy of soul-oaks. Their bone-white branches intertwined, blocking out almost all light, casting a haze of crimson onto the grove. Her body felt infinitely heavy, like she was dragging the weight of a world with her. In a way, she was.

Her golden trail of blood dragged like a snail's slime, staining the scarlet leaves with the last dregs of a god's life. Her wings drooped on the ground, limp. It was the end of her, and she knew it. Yet she continued walking, through the faint dappled light filtering from beneath heart-leaves, into the clearing beyond.

Her job was completed, her succession settled. She could lay down her arms and die peacefully. Oh, how her heart yearned to do so, and her body was falling apart with the need to take a final nap. But she knew she would never awaken, and she had one tiny task to complete.

In all her millennia of wandering through the planet, she had never found the End of the World.

The soul-trees were thinning to reveal a rocky beach, and a pitch black starless sky. Wind howled against the remaining trees, screaming a mournful harmony to a world long gone. Just a few steps away lay a precipice, a thin carcass of stone overlooking the Void. An endless darkness. Infinite. All consuming. The End of the World.

And if she had it her way, it would be her end too. No reincarnation, no restless ghost roaming the galaxy in search of a cure to its lassitude. No, she would have nothing but eternal sleep.

The wind caroused with her hair, toying with the battle braids, nipping at her exposed skin like a rambunctious child. But she had no eyes for anything save that ledge. 

Sour bile and sickness. That was what she smelled of. A dying woman. She had lived so long, so very very long. Long enough that she thought herself to be immortal.

"But the sun will rise and the mountains will fall and all things will come to an end," she croaked, reciting a trace of a poem from another age. The rest had been lost to the void, just as she was soon to be.

One step closer to the edge. Another step. The pain was excruciating, every millennia of her life weighing down on her body. 

She had been beautiful, once. Fearsome, awe-inspiring, worshiped by all. But she was old, old, old beyond belief.

And her skin, once clear and milky pale, had crumpled like paper, folding and crinkling until her face was an old map of all her travels, becoming ashen and waxy.

Her hair had once been the passionate scarlet of fire, her eyes the crimson of blood and battle-lust. The colour had been drained away from her, leaving naught but a shell of her magnificence. 

She had towered over the mere mortals, made them cower and whinge with her great magic. Yet here she was, hunched over herself, unable to so much as summon a spark. 

She would have wept to see herself reduced to this, but she was too weary to feel such passions. 

One more step. She stood on the tip of the ledge. The Void stared into her, an ancient enemy. She met its gaze evenly. From the very beginning, she knew she would die in its maw. 

In the fathomless depths, she saw her past. Empires wrought by her hand and obliterated at her will. Civilisations, rising and falling like ants. Temples and cathedrals alike raised in her honour, whilst every other god dwindled to nothing. Feasts and festivals in her name, vast tributes of meat and wine. Wars of faith, crusades to appease her. Luxuries and pleasures beyond a mere mortal's comprehension.

But everything she had treasured, everything she had truly loved, was gone. Her children, slain at her own hand to keep her throne. Her sisters, lost to the annals of time. Her love, her one true love, resting beneath the ocean waves. And now, she would die too. Her name would be snatched away by the wind. Her statues and temples would crumble into oblivion. 

She closed her eyes. Clumsy fingers removed her necklace, the mark of her power, tossing it onto the sandy bank. Perhaps someday, an explorer might stumble upon it. With the last dregs of her heart, she wished it was so. In the end, she did not want to be forgotten.

She took the last step.

Then she fell into the Void, and welcomed its cold embrace.