#Raven: I will climb you and claim you—

[gomzdrawfr]

Well…it was only time before I throw Raven into the mix

[bumblesimagines]

Bundles of Joy, Bundles of Anger

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Upon becoming man-grown, Jace was wed to his mother's cousin, the daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Months later, the war breaks out and surprising news of his child being born reaches him soon after returning to Dragonstone to say his final goodbyes to Luke.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, arranged marriage trope, Targcest (Cousins)

so short I do not know why my F!Reader stuff ends up being short

~~~

A million thoughts raced through Jace's head as Vermax descended through the clouds and the ancient castle of Runestone came into view, nestled by the water and essentially isolated by the rural landscape expanding in nearly all directions. His heart raced faster than his mind and his orders for Vermax twisted on his tongue but his dragon nonetheless understood the urgency in his tone and tucked his wings closer toward his body, plunging the both of them toward the ground at a higher speed before expanding them once more and gliding closely over the vibrant grass. 

It'd only been two days since Jace received the shocking news flown in by raven revealing his lady-wife, Princess (Y/N), had given birth to his child a month prior. The surprise on his face had no doubt been comical when Maester Gerardys awkwardly read the contents of the letter at the meeting and remained standing in silence as Rhaenyra and everyone else took in the startling news. 

There'd been no word from Runestone, not since (Y/N) had sent a letter detailing an illness to explain her absence from attending alongside them while the claim to Driftmark was disputed. At the time, Jace had shrugged it off and dismissed Baela's insistence that he tend to his wife. They hardly enjoyed each other's company so he saw no use in visiting her and causing her further strife, but now as he watched Runestone grow closer and closer, he kicked himself for not heeding Baela's words. 

Their presence roused the dragon sleeping near the castle and the shriek from her forced Vermax to slow down. His dragon responded to the call and diverted course toward her, flapping his wings until his speed slowed further. He landed near the she-dragon and lowered himself onto the ground with a quiet chirp. Jace carefully climbed down and landed firmly on his feet, instinctively tugging off his riding gloves and eyeing the bemused she-dragon who seemed half-tempted to burn them both.

"Sagon gīda, Starlight," Jace called, swallowing down the fear that bubbled in him as he began walking toward the path she conveniently rested beside. Starlight huffed a cloud of smoke at him and squinted her emerald eyes at him, her head following him until he reached the gates of Runestone. 

"Prince Jacaerys," An older man he recognized as Gerold Royce greeted him when the gates opened, bending at the waist. "Our Princess of Runestone has been expecting your arrival, My Prince. She awaits you in the nursery. Come this way, if you please."

The nursery.

Jace nearly stumbled over his feet at those mere words, luckily catching himself before he made a fool of himself before men who eyed him with disdain. He knew of the Royce's dislike for Daemon Targaryen (especially after the supposed murder of Rhea Royce) but he never expected it to extend to his family and himself. Still, he kept his head held eye and one hand on the hilt of his sword as he followed Gerold into the castle. 

"I was not aware of Princess (Y/N)'s... condition."

Gerold glanced back at him. "We know." 

A familiar rush of anger spread through him like spilled water. He gritted his teeth and inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. "Why was I not informed sooner? I may be young but I am no fool; I know pregnancies may last up to eight or nine moons." He tried restraining his simmering anger. He knew very well how loyal the man was to his blood. 

"Our Lady desired a peaceful pregnancy, My Prince. She did not wish to be disturbed or bothered during such delicate times." Gerold explained simply and Jace allowed himself a brief scowl before he wiped it off his face once they came upon a guarded door. 

Stepping inside, Jace's eyes were instantly drawn to the crib in the center of the room and then to his wife seated near it. She looked away from the crib at their presence and sighed quietly, sipping the last of her tea before she set it aside and rose. (Y/N) exhaled deeply, her nose crinkling and her hand pressing near her back to massage the flesh. Jace spared Gerold a glance and walked forward toward her, extending an arm to offer his support but she stopped him and waved him off. 

"You may leave us, Cousin. Thank you." She told the older man, offering him a brief genuine smile that promptly disappeared when he left. 

Jace finally noted her appearance up close. She looked exhausted, as was usual of mothers after labor. The bags under her (E/C) eyes were noticeable through her powdered skin and she'd discarded her usual dresses for a simple thing gown that showed her belly still full from the pregnancy. He knew from his time in the Keep that most women differentiated from each other; some, like Dowager Queen Alicent, were able to lose the weight gained during pregnancy fairly quickly whilst others, like his mother, retained it for some time.

A gurgled coo brought his attention down toward the crib and he finally looked upon the baby. "Oh.." He shakily whispered when he noticed the head full of brown hair with silver streaks through it, strands that curled subtly at the ends just as his once did before he got older. Small, frail, and so beautiful. His child. His. He hummed forcibly when tears abruptly sprang to his eyes. "What- What is their name?"

"His name is Valerion."

"A boy?" Jace breathlessly questioned, his head snapping back toward her with widened eyes. "A- A son?" An heir.

He looked back at the little being happily dozing and his heart twisted into itself, cautious steps bringing him closer to the crib. He reached out tentatively and carefully took him into his arms. Valerion stirred in the golden bundle he'd been wrapped into and parted his eyes to peer up at him, blinking sleepily and sighing before his eyes closed again to doze off. Jace chuckled and leaned down, nuzzling his nose against Valerion's forehead. 

"Your grandmother will be pleased." He whispered and drew back, carefully bouncing his arms as he'd once seen his mother do with Joffery. "A perfect little dragon. You shall be given an egg soon enough. Silverwing has recently laid a clutch and one shall be yours, little one. Once we return to Dragonstone-"

"Valerion and I will remain here in Runestone until further notice." (Y/N) cut in swiftly and his brows knitted together. "Runestone is a safe castle, Jacaerys. If the enemy comes, they will be seen before they can come close and dealt with. I am in no state to travel and neither is he at such a young age. He will see Dragonstone and the Keep after the war." 

"I cannot stay here, (Y/N). I am needed in Dragonstone to serve alongside my mother, you know this. You will heal in time, and it will be much better if you do so under the care of Maester Gerardys. He will be safe-"

(Y/N) scoffed. "Your mother was nearly slain in her own bedchambers and the Greens are merely a short flight away from the island. I will not risk my child's life, Jacaerys. It is your duty to serve on Dragonstone, it is mine to serve here. Runestone is my castle and my responsibility to protect it, just as it is my responsibility to protect my son." She spoke, tone full-on authoritative and eyes challenging. 

Jace stared at her in disbelief and grounded himself enough to delicately place Valerion back in his crib before he faced her. "Was this all part of your plan to alienate me as much as possible from my child? We have not spoken since our wedding night nearly a year ago and you remained silent on your pregnancy. I could have been here to see him enter this world. I should have been here- No, you should have been in Dragonstone." 

"You are a fool if you believe you would have been any help. You would have hovered like a bothersome fly and questioned every single thing as if you had any idea what a pregnancy is like. I remained here in Runestone with my family and I delivered a healthy boy with the help of Maester Corrad and the midwife. This child is Royce as much as he is Targaryen. If you were to pass in battle-"

"Is that what you hope?" Jace bristled as he spat words laced with accusation. "Do you wish for me to pass in battle so that you may rid yourself of this marriage? We made vows, oaths, in the name of the Seven or have you forgotten? We have duties to one another, regardless of our desires, and we are bound to each other. This child is mine as much as he is yours. He needs his father. We do not know how long this war will rage on and I will not allow him to see me as a stranger." 

(Y/N) released a sigh and lowered herself down onto the cushioned seat, resting her arms over her belly and watching him. "Then, you may visit as you have done today." She said simply and he scoffed again. "You believe because you are Crown Prince that your duties are more important than mine but if I recall only one of us currently rules and it is not you, Jacaerys. I have ruled Runestone since my flowering at the age of eleven whilst you spent your days tormenting Aemond One-Eye, being spoilt and coddled endlessly by your mother, and trailing after the Velaryon girl like a fool."

His face flushed with embarrassment and anger and he took a glance at his son to ease the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over. Jace inhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes, releasing the air and forcing his tense body to relax. He stepped forward and unclasped his sword's holster before bending his knee in front of her. He set the sword aside and reached forward to take her hands into his.

"I understand." He murmured. "I do, I truly do. I understand your concerns and- and I will try to find a compromise that will please us both. I do not wish to fight before our son but I ask of you, as your lord-husband and father of your child, to consider my side of things. I know we have been far from a happy couple and I will admit my feelings for Baela have not left entirely.. but I am willing to change. For you. For him."

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 12 Word Count - 1121

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch! Can I request an Oscar Tully story in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? The reader is a Targaryen (probably just the same age as him and named Jaerra) and has a he-dragon, she flew to Harrenhal to accompany Daemon and then met Oscar and just some cute interactions between them that grew into something. It’s up to how you will write it and can have lots of parts too because I will love it either way. I hope you read this request. Thank you! <33

The dark echos of Harrenhal seem to sicken Daemon the longer he remains, food seems to turn to ashes in his mouth, wine soured, his mind a mess of his own failings and falls.

“I’m surrounded, by witches, and idiots.” He sighed to himself,

Suddenly a familiar sound echoes through Harrenhal’s half-melted halls, the sound of a dragon's triumphant cry. Which caused Daemon to perk up and move quickly for the first time in months. He headed out to the courtyard part of him hopeful to see Syrax across the sky, or perhaps even MoonDancer.

But a deep blue dragon with shimmering white scales fluttered down onto the grass,

“Iēdar lilagon…” he sighed, He approached the dragon glaring down at its rider, “Why did she send you?”

“Because you're causing chaos on your own,” Jaerra answered as she climbed down from her dragon, wearing her tall boots and grey washed-out leather trousers, a deep blue jacket with a high low skirt and dragon clasps down her chest, her long Targaryen blonde hair with a single dark brown streak by her face knotted up into a tight braid.

“I already have enough to deal with,” He sighed,

“Hence why I’m here.” She said pulling off her leather gloves and walking past him, “You’ve been causing enough problems around here, so she thought I’d be best to come. Plus everyone else is far too busy to be your babysitter.”

“Busy!” He said as he followed her,

“Her grace is busy, planning wars and alliances,”

“And what does she think I’ve been doing!”

She rolled her eyes and continued, “Jacaerys is defending his claim at her side -”

“Baela and Rheana?”

“Baela is beside her betrothal, as she should be. Rheana is with Aegon and Viserys in the Vale.”

He sighed, “I’d have taken Corlys before you.”

“He is of far to high priority.” She glared, “You get me. If you’d have been more careful I wouldn’t be needed and I could be patrolling.”

“So that’s what she’s got you doing? Patrolling?”

“Ravens are slow, men even slower. Dragonback is the best way to get sights of our lands and the movements on them.” She explained, “Speaking of which, the riverlords are here.”

“They haven’t-”

“They haven’t arrived yet but they will in an hour, I flew over them.” She answered before she went inside,

“...Fucking-” He sighed following her, “We have an hour, time to change into a gown for the Riverland lords.”

“Alright,” She shrugged, “Off you go, to get dressed.” She glared,

“I meant you.”

“Seems a waste of my time.” she sighed, “We are at war, gowns seem pointless at this point,”

“You are … so much of your mother,” He barked,

She chuckled, “Is that meant to insult me?” She smiled, “I’d rather be a spitting image of my mother… than anything like you.” she spat, “Now let's get this sorted out before we all end up on spikes in Kings Landing.”

Daemon sat at the head of the table in Harrenhalls Grand chamber, Jaerra to his side with two seats between them, as in walked the Lord of the river lands. Jaerra raised an eyebrow given this was not the man from the many lords she saw from Dragonback whom she expected to be the lord. Lord Oscar Tully made his way in dressed in his fine amour, curls messy from his helmet. He simply nodded as a greeting to Daemon and his eyes flicked to Jaerra, he did a double take but focused his eyes forward.

“My condolences on the passing of your grandser.” Daemon spoke, “But the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house. And Lord Paramount of the Riverlands” He explained, “Truly Glorious well done,”

“I did nothing,” Oscar answered,

“Nevertheless, you are here which is the important thing.” Daemon nodded,

“You were quick enough to dismiss me before.”

“You were of no significance to me then.”

Jaerra sighed, rolling her eyes a little.

“Now. I shall have my great host you have a decision to make.” Daemon stood from his chair mostly to avoid the eyes of Jaerra, “Presume it is clear to you which is the right one.”

“You will forgive me, your grace… I am green. In this sort of matter. As you so kindly point out, but it does seem to me that you’ve made rather a mess here.” Oscar explained making sure to meet Daemon's eyes as he walked around him, “Countenancing barbarities in the queen's name.”

Jaerra choked back a small laugh but made no secret of her smile, as she rested her feet on the table,

“Who’s side are you on?” Daemon glared the boy down,

“... The river lands are held together by oaths.” Oscar nodded, “House Tully swore on oath to King Viserys Targaryen, We recognize the authority of the named heir Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen… And your own as her king consort.”

“Good.” Daemon nodded, “Then we should go to face your vassals and you shall call your banners to war,”

“That might be difficult my king,”

“Well… I was told they would come to heal When house tully declared it’s allegiance.”

“That… may be the case,” Oscar nodded, “But it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority, as young as it is.”

“You are no older than my daughter.” Daemon chuckled as his eyes met Jaerra,

“... I’d further follow her than you.”

“Power and control don’t have an age. Merely a mindset.” Jaerra smiled,

Oscar nodded to her, “And there is another problem… they all hate you.” he turned back to Daemon,

“Everyone hates him.” Jaerra spoke up again, “Never stopped him before.”

“I don’t need their love, I need their swords.” Daemon glared,

The two in a deep moment of staring before the door opened,

“You’re grace, My lord, the river lords await. I fear we cannot delay them any longer.”

“Of course,” Daemon nodded, “Come along lord Oscar,”

Oscar nodded and walked out hand on his sword,

“You too.” He demanded to Jaerra,

She sighed setting her feet down on the stone floor and made her way out the door, but turned around as she passed Daemon walking backwards out the door, “I like him.”

“You would.” he glared, forcing her out with him.  

[fillinforlater]

Phone Part 10: Return of the Angel +3

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Yeh Shuhua, Jung Eunbi (Eunha), Hwang Eunbi (SinB)

Length: 1550 words

Tags: strap-ons, lesbian sex, spitroasting, double penetration, overstimulation, loveless sex, voyeurism, watching, fingering thigh riding

TW: messy crazy bs

(A/N: this series randomly returns because I just needed to get this idea out of my system for good. This might be the conclusion to it, but probably not... well, maybe you send me some ideas to where this could lead up to.)

"I'll get going."

Bomi kisses your cheek, that sore cheek, sore like every patch of your skin, every bone in your body and every damn muscle, some of them you didn't even know could hurt before today. Hell, you don't even have the strength to give Bomi a proper goodbye, a weak wave is all you can muster up.

She'll not be mad at you. For what might have been either 15 or 150 minutes, you have taken turns on her and Shuhua's pussy—licking, fingering, fucking them until those tight caverns each got a big load in them. In the meantime, Minju has been their plaything. Especially Shuhua has this cruelty towards her "friend", edging her with fingers, reddening her thighs with extremely hard slaps and always promising that she'll get your cock—just to claim you with her pussy again.

You turn around when Bomi closes the door. Shuhua and Minju wrestle on the couch, the latter clearly outmatched when Shuhua puts her in a headlock with her thunder thighs. Minju tries to escape with licks on Shuhua's clit but can't find it—the nightmare of so many guys.

"Cut it out, you two," you groan, fingers on your temple. 

"N-no," Minju whines. "Minju still needs cock, wants cum in her tummy!"

"I can't." Point at your limp dick, absolutely spent. "And I have a headache. At this point, I’ll start to hate sex. Fucking hell, I'll make myself tea."

"Oh, I have an idea," Shuhua smirks and reaches for her phone while you leave for the kitchen. Whatever it is, you don’t want to deal with it. You need something relaxing, something herbal, to heal all the soreness in your body. It’s incredible to think that there is something like too much sex. You’re really close to giving up on it, even though two nymphomaniacs have turned your house into sex hub.

“No, no, stay down. You’ll get cock soon,” you hear Shuhua belittle Minju, who just whines in her usual tone. She seems to not be a bit tired after all this.

“Well, it won’t be mine,” you shout back, watching the hot water fill your cup and turn the leaves into something magical.

“Yeah, I know, you’re basically useless at this point.” Ouch, that stings. “That’s why I called back up.”

“You what?!”

“They should be here any minute now.”

Shuhua is spot on. Before your tea is finished steeping, your door bursts open. But instead of a hung man, two rather petite women enter your house. Both have a bored look on their face and immediately get to undressing. Overcoats seem to be the shit right now, and no matter who comes through your front door, they always drop it on the floor. 

“Uhm, hello?” you carefully greet them before remembering that this is your home, your kingdom! You can’t let strangers just walk in like they own the place. “This is kinda rude, you know?”

“Don’t care,” says the taller one with long, raven hair, dressed only in jeans. “We have business to do. Also, it’s rude to just stand there, naked, while two ladies walk in.” You blush and hide your crotch with the tea cup.

“We aren’t ladies, stop kidding yourself,” the other snarks back, while climbing out of her skirt. “I bet he is a good fuck, you shouldn’t kill your chances already.”

“Eh, I’ll think about it, but first—” Both girls suddenly pull out two strap-ons from God-knows-where and put them on with the casualness one would wear a fricking hat. The taller one hasn’t even removed her jeans, wearing the harness over it, while the other is fully naked and flaunts her butt at you.

“Yeah, I know, we got shit to do.” The short haired girl slaps her butt and you almost drop the cup when she walks past you with a wink. “Shuhua, where is this needy bitch? Or are you the needy bitch?”

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Eunbi and Eunbi,” Shuhua greets them and points at Minju, still trapped in between her fat thighs. “Look who I found.”

“She is insatiable. Incredible that he can still stand,” the shorter Eunbi says.

“Hm, maybe he is a good fuck. Anyways, we’ll try our best to keep her down,” the taller Eunbi says. The three conspirators try to agree on a strategy on how to fuck the angelic girl. You’ve become invisible in your own house, your entry to the living room goes largely unnoticed. Except for Minju who pouts at you when the two Eunbis lift her up and put her in a doggy position. The shorter one is below her, the other is ready to press the plastic cock into Minju’s puckered hole.

"Should we do it at the—nevermind, you're already in." The small Eunbi groans in annoyance, the other looks unapologetic and starts to rut slowly against Minju's butt. The long shaft forcing open Minju’s hole, paired with the denim on her sore, pink buttocks, must feel incredible and incredibly painful at the same time. Who knows which of the two makes Minju wail and moan more.

"Come on, Eunha, shove it in her sex," Shuhua urges on the Eunbi below as she excitedly stares at the unholy sight of fake cocks on ready holes. Her eyes mimic the camera lens for a porn shoot, while you're the director, watching the scene play out. Either way, it's good content.

"Minju's pussy, Minju's ass, so full!" Minju is loud, louder than before. Shuhua is having none of it.

"Shut up. SinB, make her stay quiet. And don't let her cum."

Two hands move to cover Minju's mouth, two cocks move in and out at a rapid pace, two sets of eyes watch on in awe. Satisfied with what crazy madness she has come up with, Shuhua sits down next to you and lazily jerks your cock with two fingers. Oh, that victorious smile, glassy, lewd eyes, you'd love to wipe it off her face.

"You like what you see? Now you don't have to do anything anymore."

"What was that about me being useless?" Grab her by the throat and spit in her face. She looks pissed, you love it. "I came in you, even when Minju was willing to do anything to get my load and now you're still cruel to her? Seems mildly unfair."

"And what are you gonna do about it? Fuck her, if you can."

Shuhua is bratty, but just as much as she is bratty, she is also light. You easily place her nude frame on your thigh, her still dripping, creaming heat right on your skin. She hisses and you tighten your grip on her throat.

"I'm going to make you cum—you know I can, it's super easy—but only if you tell those two friends of yours to make Minju cum until she passes out.”

“Fuck, bastard,” Shuhua hisses. With your thumb on her clit, this is easily the quietest and tamest she has been for hours. Her body twitches, an honest reaction to how much she is addicted to the mind-blowing orgasms you can get out of her. Such a small finger, yet she is squirming, contemplating, faltering.

“Those two are so cruel,” you tell Shuhua, nose deep in her greasy hair. “They fuck her so hard, just to pull out at the last moment. Why do you want to torture Minju so bad?”

“Be-because she needs to get to the-the point.”

“What point?”

“The point where sex is no fun. She can go forever. She will never stop, your—fuck—plan to make her p-pass out, useless.”

This explains a lot. The Angel is insatiable, her lust seems infinite, but Shuhua’s plan—won’t it make things worse? At some point, SinB and Eunha will have to stop and Minju will be more desperate than ever. She will wobble through the house, tackle you the second she sees you and will force your cock in her pussy no matter what. A true tragedy.

“Well, I don’t care,” you say and tug at one of Shuhua’s nipples, she bites her fingers. “You’ve been too greedy, time for her to—”

“Fuck, fine.

“SinB, don’t hold back. Eunha, suck her tits, overstimulate this bitch!”

“What?” the two ask in unison and disbelief.

“Do-don’t ask questions, please, just do it!”

The way the two purple plastic cocks move in and out of Minju with the sole goal of too much pleasure has you satisfied and in a new heat, your cock hardening slowly but surely. With an ever increasing rhythm, you move your thigh up and down and Shuhua starts to ride, her loudness increasing again. She is as close as Minju and it only takes SinB pulling those messed up oak strands, you to rub Shuhua’s clit, for them both to explode. 

You focus not on Shuhua shuddering, shaking on you, but at Minju’s expression. Her eyes jump wide, then tears shoot out and flow down, just to be blocked by SinB’s hands on her mouth. She’d be so loud, words messier than her hair would fill the room. After this peak, both collapse. Shuhua meets the floor, Minju falls on top of Eunha, who still thrusts, even spanks the Angel’s ass. 

You’re hard again. Where is this going to end?

[xaphrin]

@carnationmilk

Slow, Stairs, Lap

Damian felt a smile pull at his lips as he chased her through the hallways of Wayne Manor. He could smell the scent of her soap hanging in the air. Raven ducked through the halls, her powers sparking behind her as her low laugh echoed over the antique wood paneling. Excitement coursed through him, the chase burning his blood like fire to gasoline. 

He closed in on her and reached out, wrapping his hand around her wrist, only to feel her phase from between his fingers. Damian frowned, but followed the shadow of her through the halls, chasing that high that she offered. 

Finally she stopped halfway up the stairs, her dark eyes watching him as he skidded to a halt at the bottom stair. Raven hovered above him, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. With a teasing smile, she let the heavy weight of her velvet cloak drop to the floor, leaving her in nothing more than shadows and promises of sin. 

“I’m done running.” Her feet touched the soft, carpeted stairs and she stepped down. “Are you ready to claim your prize, my hunter?”

Damian snorted at the tease, and he ripped off his shirt, dropping it next to him. “Am I worthy of a prize, my prey?” He climbed a few steps to where she stood, letting his hand trail up the gentle indent of her stomach. “Are you offering yourself up as a sacrifice? Without running anymore?” 

“I am.” She moved around him, pushing him against the stairs. Damian fell back, catching his body on the slope of the staircase. He looked up into her eyes as Raven straddled his hips. “I am offering myself to you.” Her hand rested on his chest, and she pushed him back onto the stairs with a slow smile. “Are you going to take what I offer?”

Damian felt his heart skip beats as her fingers slid down his chest, following the line of hair that disappeared into his pants. He tilted his chin up and met her eyes from underneath the shadow of his lashes with a smirk. “I will take anything you offer me, my love.” His hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her down over him. “You may think you’re a sacrifice, but I assure you that you hold my soul in your hands.”  

He could see her breath catch in her chest and she leaned over him, capturing his lips in a slow, leisurely kiss. Damian’s hand tightened in her hair, and he groaned as he felt her unfasten his pants and take his cock out. Her cool hands wrapped around the heat of his length and she pumped a few times before lifting her hips and spearing herself on him. Damian’s breath escaped a desperate rush and he sat up, his hands digging into her hips as he drew her down onto his lap. 

“Are you trying to steal my breath too?” Raven murmured against his lips. “You already have my heart.”

“I love you.” Damian pushed his hips up and drew her down, setting a slow almost leisurely pace. Moonlight filtered through the windows casting them both in a silver glow. Time stopped, and the world stilled outside of his moment. In this moment, it was everything he wanted - Raven, wrapped around him, in his arms. “Slow…” He whispered into her ear. “Go slow. Let me enjoy this moment. Let me enjoy you.”

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Both of Them?

[pairings]: wenclair x normie!reader

[summary]: You realize you have fallen for not one, but two outcasts. What are you gonna do now?

[warnings]: swearing, author is unexperienced

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were never the person who was into relationships, if you ever were in one, it never lasted long. You always either got bored or the affection was too much for you to handle.

So when you started to feel butterflies in your stomach every time you saw a certain raven-haired girl come into the library of Jericho, claiming that there are no books left in the school library that she is interested in, you were freaking out.

You didn't want for her to turn out like the other people you had liked, they always ended up to be heart-broken or just simply didn't like you back.

And just when you thought that you would never have to see her again, because she hadn't been to the library in nearly a month, she shows up again with a bubbly, blonde-haired girl by her side.

At first you were jealous, but then one day Enid ( you heard Wednesday say her name once or twice) noticed and decided to talk to you, which included talking to Wednesday.

You three quickly became bestfriends, even though she never showed it, Wednesday cared about you too. And what started with you all being friends it ended in you falling for both of them.

You felt guilty, but you really should have seen it coming. You were known to have crushes on your friends and you didn't know why. Not all of them at once and almost never from you group of friends, just a not so close one. They ever only lasted around 8 months or a year, if you didn't confess.

So when after all the Crackstone shit, you still had strong feeling for both of them, you decided to tell one of your closest friend.

" You what?! " She shouted after you told her. " Wait, wait. Let me get this straight, you fell for an outcast? " you nod " And then, that outcast got a girlfriend? " you nodded slowly " Then you fell for that outcast too?! "

" Yep, that's what happened "

" Bitch, i don't know how you did that, but okay. " She said after a moment of silence.

" what do you think i should do? " you asked.

" you should definitely tell them, see what happens. " She said, sitting down on her bed.

" Okay. if you say so" You say hesitantly before sitting down next to her. Getting ready to watch a movie.

---

Considering you were a 'normie' you never got the chance to hang out in Wednesday and Enid's dorm. But one day Enid had asked you to sneak into their dorm so you all could have a movie night and you agreed.

To say that they forgot about it was kind of an understatement. When you climbed up onto their balcony and tried to get in through the window as quietly as possible you didn't expect to see Enid and Wednesday kissing furiously on Enid's bed. You were practically frozen to the spot. You didn't know what to do. When you slowly came back to reality, you saw that they had yet to notice you. You quickly went back out onto the balcony and climbed back down from it.

" Hey! " You heard a voice behind you.

You slowly turned around to see a boy in a beanie and a girl with black hair and glasses ( which she took off pretty quickly) " Who are you and what are you doing here? " The girl shouted over the sound of the heavy rain, that you hadn't even taken notice of.

" H-Hey, i mean no harm! I-i just came here to-to see a friend of mine " You smiled awkwardly at them while wrapping your arms around yourself.

" Friend of Wednesday or Enid? " The boy asked.

" Both?"

" Both?! " The girl chuckled slightly under her breath " okay, then come with us. It's freezing out here." She slowly took you arm and started walking inside.

" YN " You say quietly.

" Huh? "

" My name, YN" You repeated.

" oohh, well I'm Yoko and this is Ajax "

"cool"

" So, you a normie? " Ajax asked you as you all arrived to, what you assumed, their dorm (just pretend they are roommates ).

"uh, yeah. I know Wednesday and Enid from the public library in Jericho, "you said after you went inside with them.

" and what did you want in their dorm? " Ajax asked as he sat down on his bed and signaled for you to copy him.

"well, uh they invited me over for a movie night, but i guess it's canceled now" you say as you blush slightly.

" Why - " Ajax said before he was cut off by Yoko slapping the back of his head " Aw, why did you do that? "

She just rolled her eyes and shrugged " you are just really dumb sometimes " she says as she had now changed clothes and looked ready to go somewhere " I'm staying at Divina's tonight. You can sleep in my bed. "

" Why would you let a stranger sleep in your bed? "you asked, blinking a couple of times.

" Any friend of Enid's is my friend too " Smiled at you before walking out and closing the door behind her.

" Well, if that's the saying then here " Ajax handed you some clothes " you can use these are mine and clean " He grinned proudly.

You took the clothes and went to change in the Bathroom. After you changed you went to Yoko's bed and laid down, feeling a little uncomfortable sleeping in someone else's bed " Good night " you heard Ajax say from the other side of the room and looked over, seeing him just sitting in the corner of his bed, wrapped in his blanket with his phone in his hand as he turned of the lamp on his bedside table.

" Night "

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

pt. 2?

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |II| Pirate!Eddie au

summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

Series Masterlist

word count: 5.7k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. heavy scarring and wounding. minor character death. allusions to suicide, depression and trauma. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot's sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 2: Asphodel "Because you and I are alike, and there will come a moment when you have a chance to show it." - Elizabeth Swann, Pirates of the Caribbean 

Despite gaining the privilege of an open cage and access to the rest of the ship, you decided against this freedom… and in a way, that was all the freedom you could ask for, wasn’t it? To choose where to go or where to stay. The restrictions were only so far as anyone else on this ship. The uncharted waters kept you all at the bay of the plank. 

But perhaps there was a part of you was scared to go beyond what had now become your own piece of the ship, a safety blanket among the ravenous snake pit. It was not even a question. You could just tell by how you closed your cell door at the sound of footsteps approaching down the ladder towards you. These men were wild and unpredictable. You could never expect what they would do once with you. The distance was the only option. 

Perhaps not so free as the rest, after all. 

Yet. 

Because you would fight it. All of them. Make your presence known and show everyone you were not like any other they had snagged off a ship. You assumed there had been more, after all. More prisoners, more girls to take advantage of. The shackles hanging down from the wall in your cell, stained red with rust and blood, were proof enough of what once occurred below deck. 

Despite being the safest place you could be in, it still was a nightmare on Earth to spend your days there, among the crates and chests filled with stolen treasures, supplies, and whatever else was deemed worth the same amount of treatment as you. Everything had been stacked mindlessly, dropped at the earliest convenience, and items only moved to make a short path to your holding cell. The disorganisation and thoughtlessness around you had been a bittersweet nuisance. You could not stand it, but at the same time, it was nice to have something so trivial on your mind as the lacklustre distribution of goods around the ship. 

Clearly, no one cared about what was going on. No one spent enough time there to notice anything, besides you, of course. The only times someone climbed those steps were to bring you your meals or to bring more storage in. So what harm would it do to you put some order to it? 

It wasn’t much, but you had created a way to pass the long hours aboard. And it was pleasant, though exhausting. With the food you were given, your energy was not what it once used to be, and the first thing to go when not feeding the body properly is the muscle. Moving the larger items took a while, but you saw a positive outcome. By taking everything slowly, you had no fear of completing your task soon. It was a never-ending activity. Tiring but something for you to do, and most importantly, keep your mind too occupied with the straining work ahead rather than the larger picture of your current circumstances. 

A part of it was also an attempt at claiming your territory. Lifting large boxes was doing the trick when it came to letting out your anger and frustrations, too, a way to channel everything into the peculiar renovation. A point to focus on something physical, something you could control, instead of your emotions and everything going on around you. 

A few days since you began doing so, things started making sense. But, most importantly, no one who ever came down there seemed to notice or care what you were doing. Besides the food they had to feed you to keep you alive, there was little interest they seemed to have for your existence.

You found many other objects that they must have considered rubbish, but you could use them just fine. Like the old sails, or what you assumed were scraps of an old torn sail, folded up in a corner. It was such a large piece of material that you tied it up to the corners of your barred walls, creating a curtain that gave you some privacy. Most of the chests around you were locked, giant padlocks handing down from the cover, the keys most likely at the bottomless pit of the ocean along to their original owners. But some were shut, and of course, you poked a peak inside with interest. 

Some were empty, and some had scrolls of paper, which you took up as light reading for early mornings when the sun hit through the windows just right, giving you a bright light source. There were captain logs and maritime routes; letters never sent, and maps never finished. 

One caught your attention, and you read the most on those drabby mornings when nothing else could make you feel alive. This one particular letter, which you could only assume was intended for a young woman from her lover, kept your heart beating and your hopes of escaping this ship alive. At least the parts of it that you had managed to find, for the parchment was ripped to pieces, the last chunk still missing among the piles of items you were roaming through. 

By now, you had read it so many times you didn’t even need the paper to recite it. 

My dearest,  The nights have been cruel, but I spend them thinking of you, and suddenly, the dark sky does not feel so heartless anymore. I think of your eyes. The sea reminds me of them— it is a calming sight each morning, and I imagine you looking out of your window at the shore, and perhaps we look up at the same clouds, and it is like you are right by my side and the wind feels not as harsh suddenly. More like a kiss straight from your lips. Some days I hum the words of that song you sang to me. I know what you have said about my voice, and the kind words still warm my heart, but it will never compare to yours. I will never do the melody justice. Only you… 

There certainly was something about the love you felt seeping through each word you read and reread. It almost put you down into this state of calmness as it looped in your mind in the evening, letting you fall asleep. 

It was another evening like all the others before it. Your dinner had been served in silence. If you had not known better, you would have assumed all men had taken an oath of silence, never to speak again, but it was evident the quiet was only limited to you. As you felt the slumber climb over you, the deck was alive and well. 

The contrast between living aboard the Hellfire at night and day could not be more than that. While the sun was up, the boots fell heavy above your head, fatigue coming over them as the work had to be done. The crew did what they could to keep the boat afloat and sailing on. As much as the deep waters could be a calming sight to some, it was absurd that there could be nothing around you but water for days. Undoubtedly, the ship must reach a harbour quickly; provisions could only be stored in the salt barrels for so long. The last time the boat reached shore must have been days before your cage door had opened. Then again, you knew what going ashore meant for the people like the Hellfire crew… and did not wish the aftermath upon your worst enemies. 

There would be fire, which you knew they adored. It came alive in spirit and light when the night sky appeared. When the work was done, and the sails smoothly let themselves be guided by the wind, you could always hear them walking above your cage, taunting their freedom with songs and tales. The ship was like a masquerade when the moon lit everything in her silver glow. It would have to be, or else the weariness and longing for land would take over. 

The songs were nothing special, typical shanties and hymns allured by a drunken chorus, singing the ballads of adventure and treasures, beautifully sombre. Yet, these moments made you believe that some humanity was left in them. Some kindness and compassion, too. A part that they would never dare show when the sun came up. 

It was as if the men aboard were two different people in one, where one side came out during the night and the other during the day. And you seemed to much prefer the nighttime sort. As, during the sun hours, the candles and lanterns went out, and with it, their souls were all back to their usual dirty selves. Their dark spirits would take over once more.

Either way, the nights were extended, as no sleep came to anyone. Not with the singing being so loud that it drilled into your ears. For them, slumber would come later and disappear quickly too, but no one seemed to mind. 

You had no way of telling the time on board, the only possible tell sign would be the sun's position, but even that was never exactly as you had barely any idea where in the world you were. All you could make out was that the crew made way for their hammocks in the small hours of the morning when the sun teased its appearance at the horizon, its glow awakening everything else but the drunken sailors that held you captive. 

The ship was asleep. The only sounds you could make were the waves smashing into the vessel and the gulls screeching in the distance. It was an opportunity. You could roam the deck unbothered. 

With a deep but shaky breath, you inhaled the salty sea air as you climbed the ladder, hands paling at your knuckles from your grip on it. The trapdoor opened with a creak, and you froze in your movements, waiting for the sound to have woken up everybody… but the silence resumed. You let out another deep breath and pushed the door open to reveal the sky, millions of stars looking down at you, but already fading as the sun appeared slowly. The dewy morning hours were dark but brighter than anything you had been surrounded with since your capture.

It had been getting colder by the day, and you already knew that by sitting in your cell. Soon enough, more than your dress would be needed for the climate you were entering. Shivers swarmed your arms at the wind blowing by. Your steps remained small and apprehensive as you needed help figuring out where to go. You had the entire ship deck to yourself for a short time. There was so much to explore above ground, but your legs automatically steered you towards the barriers of the ship.

You walked over to the ship's edge, letting your nails dig into the wood and your frustrations on the trim piece. Stand there, look at the horizon, and watch the sun slowly rise from under the water. The first sunrise you witnessed in weeks— at least not from the small window that peaked right over your head in your cell– had been a euphoric experience. Everything felt brand new. As your last attempts at peeking at the waves had resulted in painful flashbacks of your previous minutes aboard the Red Tail, now, you focused on the calm ripples of the water. No longer was the only thing you saw in the blue the blood of your long-lost friends. You saw their resting place. In the early morning, golden sun rays peeked out from the horizon, illuminating the drab grey of the waters like a liquid treasure hiding beneath the surface. You saw the waves moving along the ship sheepishly, back and forth. Calmly, sleepy, drifting away into the distance with each push of the boat and wind. It was slowly waking up, the sea, the earth. 

What would it dream of, you pondered. It must be lovely to be so at peace. 

If you closed your eyes and let the fresh golden light wash over you for long enough, you could fool yourself into oblivion. That you were somewhere else. A happy place.

It was so peaceful and quiet that the smallest of disturbances broke you out of your happy thoughts. You felt the presence from across the ship, his eyes on you, disintegrating your moment of bliss. But, of course, it could have been anyone, and you expected it to be one of the crewmates, one of the men with poor luck who had to start their work shift with the sun. 

Never, in a million years, did you imagine turning around and meeting with a pair of golden hazel eyes. Captain Munson was leaning against one of the masts, leg prodded against the wooden pole. He chuckled at the sight of your face, evidently struck with panic. How had he even reached the centre of the deck so quietly? Because… he could not have been standing there, or anywhere, all this time?

In one hand, he held an apple, and in the other, a small knife. He pressed the blade against the fruit’s skin and his thumb over it, cutting a small piece off. Then, still with the knife under it, he brought the apple slice to his lips. Never did his eyes leave yours as he ate. You felt unnerved with each move he made. You felt the need to look away, but for some reason, you simply couldn’t. It was like he was capturing you in a trance. So instead, you let your nails dig into the ship’s rail even more.

‘Do not let me disturb you, my darling,’ he eventually said and bode you farewell with a slight bow before parting ways. You were left stunned. Not sure what to say or do, you just turned back to look at the sea. It had no effect and felt like a sore loser's words, but you mumbled “Not your darling” under your breath. 

Had that been all? It was all extremely disorienting. Because, of course, he had meant to disturb you. He did so to your very core. That cold-eyed gaze opposed the actual warmth of his honey irises. It froze your blood. It spoiled everything about your morning. 

And as quickly he had appeared behind you, so quick the captain was to disappear out of your view again.  You looked around yourself for good measure, extending your neck to locker over the larger barrels standing in the corners of the deck, but he had genuinely evaporated into the early day’s mist. A phantom of the sea.

But just because he was gone didn’t mean his presence was. You still felt his eyes on you, lurking from hidden darkness. Perhaps the darkness was in your own head, inner thoughts poisoning your sanity, but the feeling remained nonetheless. 

Suddenly, the calm sea was anything but. Instead, the light sky seemed dull and grey, the waves bouncing off the ship aggressive. There was nothing peaceful about it left behind. There was nothing left for you there. But you remained steady in your place on the boat, looking out ahead at the horizon until the sun rising began to burn your eyes with its bright presence, and the wind blew harder. Only then did you decide, on your own devices, to head back down into the warmer discomfort of your enclosure. 

You lay on the ground and threw that thin fleece over yourself, hoping to fall asleep and thus pass on the rest of the day. But, if Lady Luck was on your side, it would be one of the silent dreams that asked nothing of you but your mind, leaving it as it was. In fact, letting you rest from the horrors that were your life.

And so, the sleep came, but quiet it was not.

Flashes of the Red Tail. Flames, explosions, blood, it was all around you. Men dying over and over again. You tried to scream out, reach for them, and help them, but it was as if your body was stuck in the mud, unable to move. So you just had to stand there, helplessly, as you watched everyone around you die.

The pool of blood expanded over the sinking ship. The sky turned dark, almost black. You looked up to see the sun–that same sun that kissed you welcome mere minutes ago at the horizon– melting, enveloping everything in darkness. Once you looked back down, another urge to scream came over you. 

A figure was standing not far from you, perhaps a few feet away. Covered in the blood that the ship was drowning in, from head to toe, he was basically dripping in it. 

He smiled at you, a canine-baring grin. Then, slowly but steadily, he neared you. 

“Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun, princess, aren’t we?’

You awoke with a pitched scream. 

Breathing heavily, just trying to get your heart back on a steady rhythm, the clanking of swords echoing in your head was doing everything against it. Just like that day on the Red Tail. Just like in your dream. You could still hear it, and it felt so real. Each loud hit of metal against metal made you wince. Cannons would follow soon. Then the blood… 

But only the swords remained. It kept going and going. Then there were the footsteps. Heavy above you, making the whole ceiling shake. It felt like a stampede, in all honesty. And there was shouting. Boisterous clammer. Followed by crowded cheers and some clinking… that you could not immediately make out what it was supposed to be. 

One thing you knew for sure, however. Whatever was happening above you, it could not mean anything good. It simply reminded you too much of that other day. That first day… or was it your last?

There was a fight ongoing on the deck. The question was, what kind? Were you being attacked? Would another group of men come down the ladder steps and haul you onto another ship? Will they cheer over Munson’s death as these men cheered over Carver’s? Would this circle of hell ever end? 

No, it couldn’t be that. The cheering was too joyful and—was that laughter you could hear? Yes. Loud and boisterous. Right above your head. In a chorus. Your mind went to the evenings you had endured sleeplessly as the men jested until the sun rose, but when you looked out the window, you still saw the bright blue sky. So what was going on? 

Against your better judgement, you took a risk, all in the thought of showing initiative and how powerful you would look walking out of the trapdoor onto the full deck. You just told yourself that enthusiastic cheering was a sign of no evil. It indicated that it was no malicious attack of another ship, that whatever you would encounter, there would be nothing to be afraid of. With that confidence, you climbed up there, pushed the trapdoor up and– 

A blade wobbled back and forth as it deeply penetrated the deck's surface, inches away from your face. You held onto the edge of the floorboards, trying not to fall back down, as the scream that erupted from your lungs halted everything around you. Everybody in reach hooked his gaze on you if they weren’t fast enough to run up to the hole you were attempting to crawl out of. No one helped, of course. They just stared. Dozens of pairs of blank and cold eyes blinked arhythmically as the bodies they belonged to stood frozen in a circle, unsure of what to do next. The blade stuck in the wood still shifted in its new makeshift holster. 

Then, much like on your very first day aboard, the circle opened up to reveal the captain. He stood several feet away, and you caught him blinking slowly before approaching you. Had he been hesitant to approach? Was he, though you doubted, startled to see you?

But whatever emotion it had been to cause his hesitance, it was gone as he spoke:

‘Just in time, darling!’ The silence was broken, and so was the tension your appearance had created.

He had an almost identical sword in his hand. Behind him stood one of his crew mates, face paling despite the grimace he was trying to pull off among his peers. He must have been who the captain dramatically disarmed, ending with that sword landing and nearly cutting your nose off. Was anyone feeling guilty for putting that fear upon you? 

Highly unlikely.

The captain neared your trapdoor, leaning down on one knee and reaching his hand out to you, an attempt at some fair treatment toward; helping you get up onto the deck gracefully—you boldly refused. The idea of touching him… images your mind had conjured up in the night still pestered you and flashed past your eyes at the sight of his hand so near you. You looked away as your feet touched the deck for the second time that day. You hated the sight of him any given day, but this particular afternoon, it was even more of an unbearable sight.

The captain had abandoned his hat, opting to tie his hair with a red ribbon into a ponytail, failing to do so properly as strands were already escaping at the frame of his face. His long black coat and shirt also had been abandoned. It was a hot day, and with the training, he was most likely performing, the sweat on his chest was already forming, despite the cool breeze standing a strong fight with the sails. 

A ghastly sight, truly, the sweat that slicked over the countless prints of black ink on his arms, chest and ribs. The ink barely covered the various scars in the same placements. Some were small, like the nicks of a blade. The new bright red cut across his clavicle would surely join that collage. Others were unmistakably older but must have once been deep flesh wounds, possible gunshots, bites, or the results of things you most likely would not even be able to fathom. It looked like a visual of a life of torture.

You blinked, letting his previous words settle in your mind. ‘In time for what?’ You looked around. All eyes remained on you since you had made your presence known, something you had fallen out of habit with. You were not used to getting so much attention anymore.

‘Training, of course.’ Munson easily pulled the blade out of the ship planks, handing it to you. ‘Has anyone ever taught you how to fight?’

‘No.’ It was unladylike to swordfight, scuffle, argue, or do anything you did at the time of your capture. The heft felt awkward in your grip, clearly too big for your hand, but the entire piece felt off-balance. It must have been a homemade contraption of one of the Hellfire crew. Possibly molten out of the treasures residing downstairs with you. You adjusted your grip on the sword, but nothing felt right.

Nothing you did slipped past the Captain, whose eyes were on you and his crew. He pursed out his bottom lip in a mocking pout. 

‘A true pity.’ He swung his blade back and forth. Each swoosh in the air made you flinch. ‘maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have ended up here with us.’ The chuckle started deep within him but evolved into a guttural laugh from the whole crew. The sound boiled your blood in anger as well as embarrassment. You wanted to attack their captain immediately but knew it wouldn’t end well. He looked you up and down with his casual smirk, and you made it a point to, somewhat confidently, keep your head up. No longer could he think he could just do whatever he pleased with you. ‘But there is always time to learn, I believe.’

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ you simply stated, looking down at the longsword clutched in your hand. 

‘C’mon, princess,’ Munson swung his sword back and forth, ‘it’s no fighting. it’s just a bit of fun.’ 

‘I see no fun in useless acts of violence.’ Did any of your words sound profound? Confident? You were ready to hear another wave of laughter, but it did not come. The only response was a smirk of the captain, but not one you had seen before.

It wavered. 

‘Don’t be like that, my darling.’ He recovered with his mockery, but you were no longer having any of it. With large strides, you closed the gap between you two across the deck. The men around you were split in moving back or getting ready to seize you if the situation required interference. The captain was among the former group. His stance shifted backwards as you met him, your chest nearly hitting his. 

Your grip tightened on the sword, and he must have noticed it by how his eyes shifted down to your arm and back to your face. 

A million different things ran through your mind; there were endless possibilities for relieving your anger at the man standing before you, all being the catalyst of events that you did not dare start. What were you to do? 

Your nails dug into your hand as your fingers wrung the halt of the sword. With this object alone, you could do a hundred different things, most of which would result in only a worse situation for yourself. 

You struck the blade down with as much power as you could muster. Like it had hit the planks in front of your face moments before, it now missed the captain’s feet by mere inches. He looked down, never moving anything but his eyes, and then looked directly at you again. His features were blank of expression; no fear or anger, but no amusement either. 

‘Call me any of that again, and next time it won’t be the deck that gets it.’ You had dared to move closer, letting your faces nearly touch. That smell of cinnamon and rum greeted you again. A few seconds passed as you stood there, eyes piercing through one another. Your blood boiling, his chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths.

He did not respond.

Or at least not until you had turned to walk away. 

‘I would love to see you try. It sure is easy making empty threats, prin–’ but he never got to finish his mockery. Perhaps because it was even easier to sound confident behind one’s opponent’s back, not looking them in the eye, that angered you. The fact that the man who threw you in a cage was, in reality, nothing but a coward. At that moment, all regard for your safety escaped you as you turned back on your heel and lunged your fist towards his face. 

It must have hurt you more than him, but the pink mark across his cheek was established. You did not bother to await his reaction once more and walked away for good– as far as the circumstances allowed you, which was not far. The ship was only so big, and the circle of men had moved onto the trapdoor, locking you in the fresh afternoon air. 

They were ready to retaliate for your aggression towards their captain, but his words boomed across all ears. ‘Stand back! I said stand back,’ he repeated when some still tried to reach for you. You passed the crew and made for the spot you had become familiar with over the morning. Trying to ignore everything behind you, you again reached the ship’s edge. Their voices lingered over everything, impossible to block out, but you let yourself focus on the ripples in the water as your anger subsided. 

Not long now. You had already been so close to home when they took you, and it's been days. Surely, soon they would reach the shore of your home and give you back to your family. That idea somehow managed to overcome everything that was actually happening around you. 

Though you had slept through most of it, it had been a long day, and signs of it were showing in the sky. Now turning a soft pink and orange as the sun began to set once more, the night was coming. With it, the stars. Would you stay outside long enough to look at them? It had been a sight you had missed properly gazing at the millions of twinkling lives above you, the constellations and the stories they told. 

It would all depend on the men that had now resumed their sword-fighting practice. 

The casualness of it all was actually rather comforting, as it, for once, did not bring back memories of the unfortunate ship you had bid farewell to but rather the surroundings of your father’s estate. There, men like Admiral Carver were standing guard or practising, but also young boys and girls who ran away from their mothers, pretending to be on great little adventures with large twigs for weapons. For a moment, you could swear you could smell the fresh flowers that bloomed outside your bedroom window, or the spices haggled for at the market in the harbour. There were cats meowing and dogs barking. To think that once you had grown tired of it all, yearned for something new in life, but now could not imagine anything greater than a return home…

Who knew how long you had stood there staring at the darkening horizon. Your thoughts must have sent you off into the distance from the ship, as you had not realised anything happening around you. The sea was quickly becoming a comfort. When looking out at it, you did not have to face the cruel reality of the Hellfire and the people upon it. The waters seemed so inviting and freeing that you couldn’t help but think if maybe walking the plank wasn’t always a punishment… 

You had not even noticed the smile creeping up at the corners of your lips, but it never came to fruition as you were broken out of the spell. 

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ the deep voice startled you, but you did not show it. In your short time aboard, and now being in actual contact with these scoundrels, there was one thing you had learned: To show fear to people like Munson, like the men on this ship, was possibly the stupidest thing a person like you could do. Letting fear control you would let them control you, playing right into their hand. Instead, display confidence and strength, which gets under their skin. 

You glanced over as much as you could without physically turning in his direction. His long dark hair messily flowed with the wind now that he had released it from the ribbon. He was looking directly at you, making you grow hot with anger. Then, subtly rolling your eyes, you looked away again, back to the waters. That, however, did not stop the Captain from speaking again.

‘A view like this makes you think of how big the world is. How small you are.’ He held his dagger again in his left hand, twirling it mindlessly between his fingers. He was standing so close that your arms were brushing against one another. His gold and silver chains jingled at the slightest of movements. You tried to focus on that instead of his words. A task that turned out to be much more challenging than you had thought, as the Captain did not enjoy your rejection. 

‘A bit of advice, princess,’ he leaned closer to you, his breath mixing with the wind. His nicknames for you would just have to lose their meaning in your head, as clearly, they were not going anywhere. ‘The silent treatment is not doing you any favours. On the contrary, my men like their girls quiet.’

‘Spare me, please,’ you hissed. 

‘Believe me,’ he responded as if he could read your mind, ‘finding yourself on our ship has spared you enough,’ he let his head hang lightly askew, looking up at you with his large eyes, bemused– you could tell you had lost his one-sided game by speaking up. Then you might as well keep going.

‘Is that a threat?’ Just a reminder that even when you were not locked in a cage, you were not truly free or safe. Their danger constantly loomed over you. 

‘Far from it, darling. I simply hope you know that there are much worse things out there,’ he leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as his hand reached out to the waters at your side to point at the waves with his blade. ‘You probably can’t even think up the horrors that live out in the wilderness of the oceans.’ What could he possibly know about your imagination? If only he knew that, at this specific moment, you were considering five different ways to gauge his honey eyes. 

You turned to him directly now. His stare at you was cold and focused. The mark you had left on his cheek was now also unavoidable. It called to you and anyone who looked at him like a beacon of a lighthouse. That smile of yours from seconds before threatened to come out again, but you held it in. However unbothered he might have sounded at the strike, you did not believe that could have been it. There must have been a reason for his current approach. What you had done in front of his entire crew was unacceptable and certainly not inconsequential–you could not imagine that he had not set a punishment ready for you. And whatever it would be, you doubted it would be subtle or free of pain. Yet, you reminded yourself of the freshly taught lesson. Keep your head up. Don’t show your fear. 

Not breaking eye contact, you decided to simply ask. 

‘What is it that you want from me?’ 

And the Captain did not waste a second in his response.

‘See me in my quarters, darling.’ 

-Chapter 3-

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging.

I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

you are also more than welcome to join the taglist. right here.

taglist:

@nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @luna-munson83 @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @jaemunson70 @reading–mermaid

@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @prettytoxix @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @miscelaa @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @billyhargrovesprincess @annikin-im-panicin @kaitieskidmore1 @yesv01 @princess-aries @m4riesworld @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixontardis @nataliastranqe

[howlingday]

So I just thought of an angsty Rwby au involving jaune being Ravens kid. But here’s the kicker Raven would y’know still be behind the scenes watching Yang as she does, but with Jaune and his siblings she actually gets to be a mom for them in ways she couldn’t for Yang.

And I just imagine Jaune being a huge mamas boy and having a great relationship with raven.

And I just also envisioned him with statkillers sword skills for some reason

Is this idea evil? Yes.

But it is a good idea imo

"I can't wait!" Nora bounced in her seat like a little kid going to the fair. She got some odd looks from the other hangar patrons. "We're gonna meet Jaune's whole family! His mom, his dad, his brothers-"

"Sisters." Jaune corrected.

"-his brothers and sisters-" Nora continued.

"No, Nora, I only have sisters. I'm the only brother." Nora looked him up and down. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." She looked away. "Figured a brother would be bigger."

"Huh?"

"What's your family like, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, steering the conversation away from Nora.

"They're great!" Jaune said with a smile. "Though, not everybody is gonna be there. Saph's moving into her new house in Argus and getting ready for her wife to give birth, the twins are living somewhere close to Vytal, and Mom is probably on a mission again."

"Oh, is she a huntress?" Ruby asked.

"She used to be. Now she's in charge of her own mercenary company. She gets really busy."

"Wow..." Ruby had stars in her eyes. "Your mom sounds really cool~!"

"Well, she clearly dropped the ball on you." Weiss rolled her eyes. "Seeing as you arrived at Beacon with no training." Jaune gave a sheepish chuckle. "Honestly, how did that even happen?"

"To be fair," Jaune gave his cheek a scratch, "Beacon was kind of a last minute decision. Mom didn't know until it was too late."

"What was her reaction when she found out?" Blake asked.

"Well..."

'Flight 2314 for Ansel is now boarding.'

"Let's just say she wasn't too thrilled."

---------------------------------------------------

"Jaune!"

"Hey, Dad!" Jaune walked up to and hugged an older man with faded blond hair. Twice Jaune's size and wearing a white and gold t-shirt and business slacks, he looked exactly what everyone expected Jaune to look like in twenty years. "These are my friends. This is Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren from my team, and my sister team of Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang."

"Hi~!"

"Hello!"

Greetings."

"Hi!"

"Weiss Schnee."

"Hello."

"Hey, 'sup!"

"Pleasure to meet you all! I'm Nick, and Jaune's told quite a bit about you kids." Jaune's dad shook each of their hand, shaking some off their feet. "So where's baggage claim? Don't want to keep everyone waiting at the house."

"I don't know about everyone." Jaune chuckled.

"Yup, everyone. Even your sisters came down!" He grinned. "I'd hate to keep your mother waiting."

"Mom's home?!" Jaune asked with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. At a nod from his dad, Jaune lept for joy and walked quickly to baggage claim.

"Huh." Yang smirked. "Never seen someone so airsick move so fast AFTER throwing up."

The group hurried after Jaune, weaving around other passengers to catch up. Meanwhile, Nick kept a close eye on Yang. There was a scowl to his face, andhe knew exactly why.

---------------------------------------------------

"Here we are." Nick sang as he parked the... well, to call it a 'car' would be misleading. Turns out, it was a vehicle well suited for ten people and their luggage, eight of which would be teens and younger. "And how is the man of the hour?"

"Uh..." Jaune took deep breaths. Even as a kid, he got carsick easily. Thankfully, cars were a lot easier for him now than bullheads. "I'm good."

"You sure?" Nick chuckled. "Wouldn't want your mom to see her only son thrown up on himself."

"Like it's the first time." Jaune climbed out and looked at his home. It was a fairly big house in the country-side; two-stories, basement, attic, outdoor pool with patches of tape. He couldn't help but smile.

"Wow..." Nora gasped in wonder. "So this is where you grew up?" She nodded. "Guess it makes sense. Nothing about you says 'city kid'."

"Uh, thanks, Nora?" Jaune wasn't sure if he should take it as a compliment or an insult. What he did know, though...

"It's about time you showed up!" ...was whose voice that was.

Jaune whirled and saw an older woman with long, black hair and piercing red eyes. He smiled back at the woman who raised him almost all of his life. He raised his hand in the air.

"Hey, Mo-"

"RAVEN!" Jaune whirled again, catching a bit of motion sickness, and saw Yang huffing like a bull, ready to charge. Her eyes were red, just like when she was mad. Just like his mom's always were.

"Oh..." And just like that, Jaune had another sister.

[zoeythegoodgirl]

Mine

It's the early hours of the morning, and you're on your way home from a date with your girlfriend. You get inside and close the door, ready for a lovely sleep next to her, when suddenly you find yourself on the floor. She's pushed you down there, and is climbing on top of you, straddling your lap. Her lips rush to meet yours, rough and clumsy in her need.

While she kisses you, you can feel her hand pulling at your dress, so roughly and desperately that it feels like she's willing to rip them off of you. The fabric tears, and you feel the pieces fall off you and onto the floor. "That'll be an expensive replacement," you think very briefly, but you don't care right now. What she's doing to you is so hot, you aren't concerned with anything else.

You feel her lips leave yours and travel down your body. Your chest, your neck, your stomach. "Mine, mine, mine," she says, almost absentmindedly, as she kisses, bites, and sucks at your skin. Each claim is met with a moan from you, as if in affirmation of her possessiveness. You can already feel the bruises starting to form, but you don't care. Right now, you're lost in the ecstasy of her lust.

When her lips meet your hips, her fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and pull them down, almost as roughly as when she tore your dress off. Your cock springs out eagerly, throbbing in time with your heartbeat. She kisses your shaft, your balls, with a ravenous hunger unlike anything you've seen from her before. You could swear she was growling as she was kissing your cock.

"Who does this cock belong to?" The demanding tone in her voice somehow makes you even harder, and you moan out a meek, "You, Mommy," in response. You've never called her that before, but, in the moment, it just felt right. This time, you know for sure she's growling. "Again," she demands. Your moan escapes your lips before your words can. You don't know what's gotten into your partner, but it's possibly the hottest she's ever been. "It belongs to you!"

"That's right! This is my cock! Mine," she barks. You're so hard you're about to cry. Your moans and pants escape you unabated. "And who do you belong to?" You can't form any words right now, despite how desperately you're trying. "I said, who do you belong to?!" It takes as much effort as you can muster, but you let out a pathetic, "You, Mommy," in response. "That's my good little girl," she says, a hint of arrogance in her voice.

With the tears in your eyes, you couldn't see that your partner had removed any of her clothing, but suddenly she's taking you inside her. You're overwhelmed by her desire and lust, and moan loudly into her mouth as she kisses you, harder and rougher than before. Clearly she's overwhelmed by it, as well. Her teeth latch onto your neck as she starts rolling her hips. "Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!" With each claim, your cock throbs inside her, confirming that you belong to her completely. Somehow, you're able to form a singular word: "Yours."

After what feels like only seconds, you reach the edge of orgasm. "Mommy," you cry, "I'm gonna cum!" She growls in response, but the motion in her hips is relentless. It's almost as if she can't control it. "Cum for me! Give your Mommy what's hers to take from you!" Those words rip the orgasm from your body and make you cum. Hard. The intensity of the orgasm almost makes you scream. You feel her clench around your cock, drawing more cum out of you, and pulling it deeper inside her, as if trying to take as much of your cum as she can.

The orgasm has taken a lot of energy from you, and you fall limply into your partner's embrace. You've never had an orgasm like this before. She holds you tightly, but still gently, as if you were a treasured belonging. It doesn't matter that you're on the floor, you're so comfortable and exhausted that you swear you could fall asleep exactly like this. You wrap your arms around her, and let yourself melt into her warmth. There's no way you can stay awake at this point, but you think you can hear your partner whispering something in your ear.

"Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine..."

[missaengg]

Sweet, Little Hondje

Day 22 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Ikemen Vampire | Theodorus van Gogh x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, alternate universe, omegaverse, breeding, p in v sex, alpha Theo, omega reader Prompts: Omegaverse/Breeding | “Here, bite into this. Since you can't stay quiet.” ao3 link here.

Lightning flashes across the night sky, quickly followed by the sharp crack of thunder. Thick, angry clouds hang lowly covering the fullness of the round moon. A lone figure strides down the corridor, briefly illuminated by the elusive flash of light before he is invisible once more in the blanket of darkness.

He walks with purpose, gripped by an insatiable hunger, no amount of food or drink able to quench his undeniable appetite.

It is breeding night.

A tight ache grows in his loins. He hastens his pace, driven by the need to release his seed, a primal urge overtaking the entirety of his being. He stops only when he reaches a door. Yours.

He slips in, the opening and closing of the heavy wooden door a whisper in the velvety cover of the stormy night.

His cock twitches as you stir. He takes you in, an ethereal vision of virgin fertility.

“Master Theo?” Your voice is quiet, threaded with the heavy tendrils of sleep’s embrace. You slowly sit up, resting your back against your pillow.

You’re an innocent, delectable sight, dressed in a white nightgown with your soft hair tumbling around your shoulders. Pure. Untouched. Unravaged.

Theo gracefully moves to the side of your bed, his footsteps silenced by the luxuriously plush carpet. The bed dips where he sits. He catches a wayward lock of your hair and tucks it behind your ear.

“Hondje,” he says, “you know what day it is.”

A pregnant pause fills the air, your eyes growing wide as the implication of his words clear away the last of the sleepy fog and settles in your brain.

“I do.”

The nervous waver in your voice is hard to miss, and only serves to add to the excruciating throb of his arousal, now too large for the constraints of its clothed prison.

“You are in heat,” he simply states, his eyes glowing in the inky darkness.

A soft blush appears on your cheeks, the dusting of pink only adding to the allure of your virgin innocence.

“Y-yes, Master Theo.”

Theo doesn’t miss the way your thighs subtly press together underneath the blanket or the way your blush darkens from a soft pink to a flustered red or the way you deliciously shiver in his imposing presence. He gently cups your cheek.

“I… I am honored to be… be chosen.”

Theo caresses your soft skin with his thumb, barely restraining his animalistic need to claim you as his.

“I will try to be gentle, little one.”

You tremble, your doe-like eyes looking up at him both in fear and anticipation. “Thank you, Master Theo.”

The lovely innocence in your eyes is enticing. Theo climbs on top of you, forcefully parting your legs with his knee. He lowers his lips to yours, savoring how they flutter with inexperience, and he roughly traces the tip of his tongue along your supple lips, applying more pressure as you relax into his touch.

The friction of his knee against your cunt causes you to gasp, and Theo welcomes the opening, slipping his tongue in between your sweetly parted lips. He kneads your breast, soft and supple in his hands. He brushes his thumb against your pert nipple, and rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers, he drags his lips down to your neck.

“Hah ah… Master Theo,” you moan.

Your sensual exclamation stokes the burning fire raging inside of him, and his desire getting the best of him, he sucks on your delicate flesh leaving behind a dark, red bruise. It’s getting harder and harder for him to hold his ravenous hunger at bay.

“You know what comes next, Hondje?”

“Y–yes.”

Your voice comes out as a sweet whisper, and Theo snaps. He pushes your nightgown past your hips, groaning as the lush waft of your arousal drifts into his nose. You smell intoxicating. He’s blinded by his desire to claim you as his.

He hooks his finger into the waistband of your underwear, ripping the delicate fabric and removing it with haste. The movement startles you, and you squeak, but Theo barely notices. He’s entranced by the way your sweet pussy clenches, glistening with your delectable arousal.

Beautiful.

Theo runs his tongue along your sex, tasting you like a man starved, a single thought crossing his mind.

Breeding you is going to be divine.

Theo’s suddenly aware of how constricting his clothes feel, and with a growl, he practically rips off his clothes. He sees the way your eyes bulge when they see him spring free, taking in the sheer size of his erection leaking with his ravenous need, the sight only fueling his heated inferno.

He grabs you by the waist, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, driven by his need to fill your womb with his seed.

“This may hurt.”

“Y–yes…”

Somewhere in Theo’s muddled mind, he notes your shaky sigh, the way you’re trying so hard to be brave at what’s coming next, but he’s too far gone, the animalistic instinct to breed you overtaking the rational part of his brain. He’s aching to feel your sweet cunt around him.

Theo plunges in, burying himself to the hilt, buzzing with pleasure as you cry out. He can feel your walls stretching to accommodate him, clenching around him in a vice grip. Theo grunts. You’re spasming so tightly around his cock, it takes almost everything he has to hold onto his composure.

But your sweet cunt isn’t ready to accept his seed. Not yet.

Theo thrusts into you. Your walls are dragging along the shaft of his cock. He’s filled you so completely, his tip bumps against your soft cervix, the vibrations adding to the electric tingles spreading throughout his flushed body. You’re sucking him in, pulling him further and further into your blistering warmth.

Your eyes flutter closed, and then the most sinful moan tumbles from your lips.

Theo shudders. He can’t hold back any longer, and he’s pounding into you forcefully at a dizzying speed. You’re writhing under him, bucking your hips up to match his rhythm. Your moans are growing louder, until you’re practically screaming his name.

While Theo doesn’t object to hearing your passionate screams, he doesn’t want you to catch the ire of the other omegas living on his estate, those who have yet to be chosen by him, those he passes over in favor of you. He shoves the closest item of clothing – his briefs – into your mouth.

“Here, bite into this. Since you can't stay quiet.”

An embarrassed blush crosses your face, but you comply, clamping your teeth down onto the fabric. Theo loses it at the sight of his soiled underwear stuffed into your pouting mouth. You look positively erotic. Your flushed face. Your disheveled hair. Your breathless moans.

He quickens his pace, slamming into you at an inhuman speed. The sound of furious squelching fills the room. Theo’s reeling, a frenetic pressure building within him, building until he bursts, and he’s spilling into you with his seed, flooding you with wave after wave of his cum. You’re convulsing around his cock, milking every last drop of his release.

Theo doesn’t move, struggling to catch his breath. Finally, he cracks his eyes open, taking in how adorable you look with your eyes glazed over and your little mouth open in a small circle. He presses his lips to your forehead.

“My good, little Hondje.”

Your eyes slide into focus as they settle on Theo. “Did I please you, Master Theo?”

Theo smirks, nipping at the dark bruise he left earlier. “Very much so, little one.” Something dark flashes through his sky blue eyes. “But, you’re not done pleasing me yet.”

He knows he won’t be until you’re so full of him, you have no choice, but to carry his child.

[ithacas-prince]

“Give me sirens and a cyclops!”

Telemachus, the prince of Ithaca. Parents are Queen Penelope and King Odysseus. also a great-great-grandson of Hermes, and a grandson of a naiad.

No need to inform me of affairs, for I am well-versed in the matters at hand.

The goddess Athena is my benefactor. In days past, she took on the guise of Mentor and urged me to embark upon a voyage in search of my father. Though my quest bore no fruit, I believe we would have become steadfast companions.

(PFP BY sloanslone | banner by jarondont)

death count: 1

kill count: 109

I seek knowledge of my father Odysseus's fate. When I inquired of Menelaus, he recounted a vision revealed by the sea-god Proteus, declaring that my father is marooned and ensnared upon the island of Calypso.

My inclinations are yet unknown to me. (He’s bisexual.) I find joy in music, my lyre, and the companionship of my faithful dog Argos. However, I harbor great disdain for the suitors, for they seek to win the favor of my mother, which I find most vexing.

I yearn for the company of my kin, to partake in the simple joys of life as any mortal might. Yet, alas, I find it difficult to embrace normalcy, for I am bound by blood to a certain messenger god. His whims and tasks often draw me into the realm of the extraordinary, making it nigh impossible to dwell in the comforts of the ordinary.

hi, mod here.. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE SAYING??

appearance: curly raven black hair, dark aquamarine green eyes, pointy ears (which turn into naiad ears in the water, cough) fair skin, freckles, he towers EVERYONE mf is 6'2 help this man, very attractive (unknowingly blessed with beauty by…..???)

voice claim: zagreus from hades

personality: chaotic but mainly calm at times, caring, sometimes an idiot, impulsive, strategic, loyal. he has ADHD, btw. low self esteem issues.

skills: archery, running, swimming, swordsmanship, disarmament, wielding daggers, fighting, etc.

powers: breathing underwater and minor control over water, plus being able to unlock doors with ease and controlling money, he sometimes teleports though it drains him after.

he has maladaptive daydreaming

—

quick rules:

- Romantic interactions will only be with CHARACTERS eighteen years or over.

- This is a ask/rp blog! So you can ask or rp.

- No strong NSFW.

- Innuendos? Allowed.

- Nothing is fully canon!

- If I interact with someone or something or reblog something bad on accident. PLEASE tell me so I can fix it.

- if he dates anyone, it’s set in separate universes.

—

tags:

#the prince has spoken — 👑 (Telemachus)

#asks — ❓ (for asks)

#mod comes over — ⭐️

#the goddess of wisdom appeared — 🦉 (Athena, obviously.)

#god of wine slurs — 🍷 (Dionysus, adopted/mentors Telemachus now.)

…

PLEASE INTRODUCE HIM TO SHIT HES VERY BAD AT THIS 😔😔😔

…

Let me speak of those whom I am acquainted with:

@odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost, @penelope-simp (my dad!!)

@penelope-is-waiting (my mother)

@reigningprincesstofithaca (my biological sister. she keeps scaring the shit out of me.)

@thehermesguy (my great great granddad)

@unhinged-waterlilly

@quillis-climbs-trees

@thementallyillapollochild

@when-fate-is-mistaken

@sunlights-daughter

@sillypuppetmeister

mod speaking here! NO NSFW. Swearing and cussing happen here.. so..

Im fine with being tagged in random starters or posts.

…

him, btw (art by @/sloanslone

winged, naiad, genderbent and reg form ^

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Christmas | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Your dearest friends from Twisted Wonderland have landed in your world. Whether by blunder of the mirror or an outside source their stuck just in time for the holidays. It’s Christmas and the party is here your Christmas royalty and your ready to show these sad men from Twisted Wonderland what your all about! Especially since they all seem to be fighting over someone lately.

“Alright boys get your fairy-tails in gear! I’m not called the Queen/King of Christmas for nothing!”

Hanging Decor with Floyd Leech

You groaned as you balanced the untangled garland around your body. Realizing that the only ladder you could use was under and in service of Riddle who was intent on properly straightening the decor he directed his dormmembers put up. Standing on some stairs you called out to the only one who could help.

“Floyd! Here, boy! Floyd!” 

Weeks ago you might’ve been scolded for calling your friend like a dog but after living with the sadistic-eel-mer-corset anything to avoid his destruction was promptly ignored. He came dashing past others without care before skidding to a stop in front of you.

“Turn.”

Like clockwork, he followed your command as you hopped on his back initiating a piggyback ride. Apparently, no one in Night Raven was ever brave enough and they weren’t you to ask this giant if he liked to give piggyback rides. All too easily are you able to train this giant into being your speedy, tall method of transport.

“I need you to hold me steady while I hang this Garland.” 

You proceeded to struggle as Floyd randomly shifted his weight and bounced you against his back. When you did try to gain some stability he’d only readjust his hold from the groove behind your knee to your upper thigh. Giving it a tight squeeze causing you to squeal before attempting to focus. 

“Ne~Ne~Shrimpy? How about you get higher, yeah? Climb up on my shoulders!” 

You rolled your eyes before doing just that, finally getting in the position to hang the garland to hang where you wanted it to. You found while Floyd continued to shift his head and body you could easily stabilize yourself if you simply tighten your thigh’s grip around his head. When you felt Floyd’s hand come up to press further relieve the tightness of your hold you internally chuckled at the irony. Nonetheless, you completed your task finally relenting to let Floyd have the playtime he so rightfully earned. 

“Well then Floyd, go ahead. What game do you want to play now?”

“This game where you try squeezing me!”

“Like with a hug? Sure, then let me down and I’ll-”

“No! No, we’re already playing just keep closing your legs.”

“B-but this is kind of embarrass-”

“I might just be out of the mood to help with any more decorating.”

“Ok ok just don’t walk around…I don’t want the other guys to see…”

“Okay!”

Floyd had no intention of that happening in the first place. Not because he didn’t want to flaunt how tightly your thighs were squeezing on his face. Because he did. It was more so that he couldn’t have anyone witnessing his own reaction. To say the mer-eel was excited was an understatement. He was practically drooling at the pressure you were applying to his head; no doubt a knee-jerk reaction to being so embarrassed. He didn’t need anyone to see him practically shrilling in arousal. 

“F-Floyd!? H-hey!? Tap me if you want out! Please! Please!” 

Vil and the Christmas Closet (Vil, Kalim, Idia)

This was something you both dreaded and celebrated. To let the closest professional in fashion and culture that’d you’d ever meet, his opinion mattered quite a lot. Especially to your Christmas collection of funny to charming sexy outfits to wear until the New Year. 

“If you claim such a position of the holiday then I’d expect you to have the wardrobe to show for it!” 

You expected no less from Vil Schoenheit. Demanding before festivities were held that you model your closet for him. Knowing full-well that he’d most likely definitely tear you apart you invited some…neutral team players.

“I’m sure you’ll look great in everything you wear!”

“W-why am I here?”

Kalim was a wonderful team player. You doubted the man had an insulting bone in his body. Idia on the other hand was here on account of your support and Vil dragging him here with the message being: ‘Here video-game-obsessed potato, bear witness to an otaku with actual fashion sense.’

With bated breath you walked out from behind the visor, giving the group a turn before striking a pose. 

“That’s fitting…if you were someone’s grandparent.”

“That is fair.”

Ouch. But you could take it.

“What fun! Can I wear it when we do our contest?! I think you look super inviting.” 

“Aww, thanks Kalim!” 

“Hey. Focus!”

Vil interjected scoffing and pouting as he waited for Idia to respond. Poor Idia seemed to be crying in the corner…oh…wait…nevermind.

“Hahhahahaha even I think that looks ridiculous! It's like you equipped a rigged piece of armor that just drains your likeability! Hahaha!”

“I assume that’s ‘game speak’ for–never go outside the house like this?”

“Hahaha, that’s an understatement!”

 Going through your closet was more or less the same. Vil would either give a generous or honest take, Kalim would cheer in support without actual direction, and Idia would crudely rate it based on otome love interests who, in his opinion, got this thing right.

“No no! This is all wrong! Is this seriously the only type of tie you wear!?”

“Well no I have these-”

“Noo I can’t have my true love doing this much for a mere holiday!”

“Wait what’s wrong with–”

“Says you Idia-san! I loooveee these ties and I love (Y/n) in these ties!”

“Oh please! Your just saying that because that's all you’d want to see on them! With your freaky normie fetishes.”

“Uhm hold on–”

“I think you should be more honest about your feelings! You were thinking the same about that hat I’m sure!”

“You-!”

“Ahem! Anyway, the point is your collection is sub-par. Therefore,” he smirked making you realize this may have truly been the aim, “I’ve already purchased fitting replacements.”

All on hangers wrapped in expensive packaging he pushed them into your person until you conceded and disappeared behind the visor.

“B-but Vil these look so pricey…I don’t want to take your money.”

“Please. You know the quality of these will outlive any ugly sweater and besides, I don’t plan to spare any expense on your beauty.”

You struggled a little but were eventually able to squeeze into the form-fitting bodice of the outfit all while verbally convincing them that you were just fine. 

“Gahk! Wow.”

“Uhm (Y/n) are you alright? Do you want me to come back there!?”

“What? Ah-”

“Kalim I’d think you’d try to be less obvious about your intentions. But if you do need help darling I am the one that ordered those thus I should be the one to help.”

“Hahaha thats real nice of you Vil but I got this! I have to fit into clothes all the time!”

“That are tailored to fit you.”

“Vil your talking as if you don’t either.”

“Touche.”

You made a show of coming out from behind the visor lifting the trailing skirt of the suit as if it were a dress. Letting it drop as you posed for dramatic effect.

“So what do you guys think?”

Everyone seemed so stunned; you could only hope it was in the good way. As if to soothe your fearful heart when Idia not so subtly pointed his picture to you as he took a picture.

“Y-you really look like the Winter spirit. The white looks…magnificent on you!”

“Thanks Idia.”

You smiled at him, letting your ego be boosted by the pink tips that seemed to spread throughout his hair. Completely oblivious to the way all three of your audience kept getting closer; close enough to touch.

*Smack* 

“Hands off Idia. Your grubby hands are sure to make stains.”

“But your hands on their–”

“I’m adjusting.”

Vil in fact was adjusting the suit of the torso, showing you the proper way to wear it comfortably, because rich people have it different. You failed to really take into account the lingering touches that the supermodel was giving, writing it off as him fussing over your outfit. 

Vil stepped back but only a little to admire his work, “I knew you’d look good in white. Now you can truly look the part for that title.” 

“Thanks a lot, Vil! I really appreciate it!”

“Of course, you deserve it my love.”

“Wow, you look like you’re about to get married! Would you marry me?”

“What?!” Kalim beamed hugging you by your waist purposely drawing attention from Vil who was respectfully still in front of you.

“Hey! That’s a forbidden question!” Idia piped. 

“Don’t answer that potato, (Y/n). I already know what you’ll say.”

“Uhm–”

Sleeper Squad (Leona, Silver)

The fire kindled in its place, the weighted comforters you collected, and the continued buzz in your stomach from the hot chocolate you happily downed moments before. You were ready for your Christmas nap. Having spent the whole day tirelessly preparing for Christmas festivities you were finally letting yourself sleep. That is until you stepped on something warmer than your rug.

“S-silver?”

Hearing nothing but a relaxed puff from the sleeping knight who was faceplanted on the carpet. You debated leaving him there for your nap but ultimately decided if there were anyone you would have been wiling to share your nap time with it’d be the ultimate napper of Night Raven. You buckled down working to carry Silver’s deadweight off the ground to plop him on the arm of the couch you originally had reserved for yourself.

“Phew, okay now its time for my nap!”

“Good I’ll join you.”

You snapped towards the other side of the couch where Leona was already pulling at your blankets and shifting into the cushions of the couch. You refrained from starting a one-sided fight with the Savvannaclaw dorm leader and instead to spite him you curled up next to him on him. Cozying into his your puffed your chest, holding your chin up high as you pulled at the blankets. It wasn’t long before the pull of sleep became more intense letting the smug teasing you would have done become mumbles. Completely unaware of the way his emerald eyes widened before closing them to growl possessively into you as he curled in on himself. Lulled by the vibrations of his growl you just barely heard and answered the question Silver tiredly groaned. 

“(Y/n)? You’re taking a nap too? Can I…zzz…come to?”

“S-sure.”

Wasting no time he crawled from his side of the couch to comfortably snuggle into the opening in the blanket. Cozying around to put an arm around you, Silver fought sleep as he could vaguely feel the other arm holding you into their owner’s chest. 

“Grrr back off,” Leona seethed through his teeth as if any noise would of roused you at this point. He was already aware of the sleepy Silver falling asleep in the crook of your chest. What he wasn’t expecting was for the preciously closed eyes to flutter open in a glare directed at him. Before Leona could raise alarm Silver was already fast asleep along with you, who was tiredly accepting the warmth of the notorious nappers.

“C-*Yawn*-’mon L’ona, lets sleep.”

He relished in the tired call from his mate and proceeded to inch closer to your behind, breaking the barrier, where Silver was tightly holding onto you, with his arm. Fully placing himself as your big spoon resting himself on your shoulder he could see the grey glare of Silver as he adjusted himself begrudgingly. 

With that the sleeper squad was assembled and doing the only thing they could agree upon. 

An Intro-course to Cheesy Hallmarks (Riddle, Ruggie, Idia)

“I’ve gathered you all today because I have deemed you all to be the most out of touch with modern interests. And during Christmas, I’d be a monster not to introduce you to not only the tradition but the example these cheesy Hallmarks show for possibly problematic relationships!.”

You could already see Riddle’s stern face of silent rebuttal before he shrunk back into the couch. Since you had come back to your world you had decided it was the perfect oppurtunity to try and get implement your self-subscribed therapy…or thats what you called it. 

“Idia you already know why you’re here. right?”

“Yes it's typical of me not to invest any time in Normie movies but I’ve heard of the dumpster fires these movies can be and I can’t wait!”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Wait! Why am I here?! I’m not socially inept like Riddle!”

“Hey!” 

“No worries you are just here because you have good taste!”

“Yeah!” 

Ruggie’s cheering was looked at with distaste by Riddle and Idia who were both contemplating setting him on fire. Noticing the tense aura the two were giving off you frantically caught their attention. 

“Anyways you guys get comfy while I get snacks ready!” 

They watched as you rushed away, waiting until you were completely out of ear shot before deciding to release some of the building tension. With arms behind his head and a smug smirk on his face he boasted to the others. 

“Did you hear? I’m the one with good tastes Nishishishishi.”

“...yes.” “We heard.” Riddle and Idia responded no longer hiding the deathly glare on their face. 

Ruggie hummed, “Then I’m sure you could hear the wedding bells already ringing.”

“What?!” “Huh?!”

“Don’t you see? They know I have class and it’ll just be a matter of time before they realize we’re the perfect match for one another.” Ruggie pressed further relishing in the vein popping from Riddle’s head as the prefect clutched at his pants. Idia cringed before letting out his own response. 

“Ewww, you think they’re going to settle. For a normie like you?! Please, you’ll be lucky to be invited to our wedding. A normie like you wouldn’t understand it though, it’ll be anime-themed.”

“Right like they’d even sleep in the same bed as you! No offense, but your like the biggest nerd I know. ”

“And?! You think they’d want to be with a shifty normie, like you? Ha I doubt it!”

The two bickered back and forth with various insults leaving Riddle to excercise the breathing techniques you had worked on him with.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Now Smell.

Popcorn and hot chocolate? Nice.

Now taste. 

Nothing now.

Now listen.

“...well I don’t expect (Y/n) to realize their suddenly madly in love with Dr. Frankenstein!”

“...its obvious your too busy following that alpha chad to actually care about them!”

Speak.

“(Y/n)’s not going to be with either of you.”

“Huh?!” “Who says?!” 

“I do and I’m willing to behead either one of you if you get in my way.”

Ruggie and Idia were livid each moving to strangle confront him in the middle of the couch stopping when you reentered the room with popcorn in hand. You excitedly went on about the recorded movie you had chosen completely unaware of the passing birds being flipped and silent threats being made as you finally joined them on the couch. 

“Alright lets get this show! on the road!” 

You cheered as you cozied into your spot between Riddle and Idia who both were enduring the drooped ears and glare from Ruggie. For the two by your side it was all fun and games before the movie started but as the show commences they’re playing a different tune. Idia’s the first to suffer atempting to reach for the popcorn bowl in your lap only to grab a squeeze of something else. 

“U-h! Idia!?”

“What?!”

“Your hand!”

“What?!”

“I-its squeezing my chest!”

“.....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

You try and assure him that it was okay to make the mistake while reaching in the dark. But he was far too embarrassed or so he says to even stay and continue the movie, claiming he had to excuse himself to his room to cleanse himself from his perverted actions. Dismissing himself while cradling the offending hand all with pink fiery hair as he disappeared. Riddle shivered in disgust as he caught a glimpse of the lovesick smile on Idia’s face. He shook his head before looking towards the screen. It was him against Ruggie. 

He kept his cool watching the movie as he periodically sent a look to the hyena boy who was scooching uncomfortably close to you. With speed and precision Ruggie was already moving an arm behind you, slowly slinking behind you to pull that move. 

“Here (Y/n), got you a blanket for our binge watching.”

“Aw thanks Riddle! Wanna share?”

“Of course!” 

Riddle happily pulled the blanket he dropped behind your head to the front expertly removing the hair pins that were dug into the couch. He smiled wider as he registered the wet liquid lingering on the needle. To add to his satisfaction Ruggie was silently wrapping a bandaid on himself, stifling a growl as he watched Riddle snuggle close to you. 

“Oh so you like that Red? Trust me your going to see this trope a hundred different times.”

Mistletoe with Malleus

“I’m happy to find you out here, my child of man.”

“Mal-mal?”

You turned from looking out from the balcony of the venue you were in. Wearing the modernized cloak with green glowing accents Malleus stood letting his horns appear with the green firelights. You smiled as you leaned on the beam, filled with the nostalgia of your meets at Ramshackle. 

“Well isn’t this a familiar scenario, eh Tsun-o-taru? Are you having fun?”

“I suppose you could call it that but in truth I value our meetings over any gala.”

You chuckled, thanking him before you invited him to stand under the cover of the balcony as you looked at the dazzling lights of the city below. You pulled his arm next to you as you leaned slightly over the rail to point at the grand cathedral, you had visited days before. Smiling at the memory you couldn’t register the obsessed look on the dragon-fae’s face as he witnessed the textures of your face.

“See? You can even see the gargoyles from all the way up here.”

“Mmmh. I appreciate the themed spot lights on them. The decorations there were superb I cannot say the same for this venue.”

“What?! What d’ya mean?”

“Well for one the tree wasn’t green. Who in their sane mind decorates a black tree?”

You giggled as he continued.

“The decoration is non-parallel. For instance the collection of berries hanging on only this beam and not the others.”

You snapped your attention to the beam above locating the naughty plant as you felt the heat rising on your cheeks.

“Ah-uhm! A Malleus you don’t know what this is?”

He looked pointedly to you at the name before trying to identify the reason for your fidgetting.

“No. Should I?”

You could feel the heat continue to consume your face as you had to explain.

“W-well Miseltoe is..uh..a plant that has a sort of…a tradition…”

The blushing only got worse as Malleus cutely tilted his head as you continue to fumble this explanation.

“This tradition is…well…let me just show you, would you please give me your hand.”

Smiling in intrigue he did just that, truly curious as he watched you embarrassingly take his hand. 

In a moment it felt as though the snow circled around you two like magic. The muffled sounds of the party ceased and Malleus could barely registering the intake of breath he refused to release. Not as you bent down kissing the glove on his hand like a prince to his princess in tales of old. The sight of your eyes looking up at him as your lips left the cloth of his glove sent him into waves of euphoria, hardly containing the tail he kept hidden. 

For you it seemed as if Malleus was frozen. You hoped it wasn’t in horror but in shock. Either way you released your hold on his hand as you shrugged.

“The tradition for  mistletoe is that you kiss whoever is under it with you. I didn’t want to overstep and kiss you on your face since that’s–”

“Perfect.”

“W-what?!” 

His emerald orbs seemed to glow with hunger as he pulled you into him by your waist. He tightened his hold on you using one hand to cradle your back and the other to hold your head into his as he kissed you. The first kiss was innocent, a kiss meant to reciprocate a feeling of interest isthere before diving for more. Harshly kissing at your closed lips before locating an opening to shove his lengthy tongue. Even as you pulled at his hair with your oxygen running out, all that was met with was the curling of his tail against his and your body. When he finally does release you you could only lean on the beam as Malleus continued to cage you against it. 

“It seems we are still under the mistletoe. It is only right that we pertain to the tradition.”

[echantedtoon]

Boo!

King Boo x Reader Oneshot.

The shadows danced as moonlight shown down along the dark homes in town. Dancing with the stars and laughing in glee with the darkness on the ground as the moon and stars above shined down watching their sinister dances as an audience would a beautiful ballet. It was very pretty in a way but your mind would only focus on high alert with the possible dangers within the shadows. Every alleyway felt like a hiding place for a monster. Every shadow a trap. And the light not much of a beacon of hope.

The sweet sunlight kisses the world good bye as the sun set on the world. Wishing it good bye to make way for the cruel night that way ahead. Bathing the world in darkness tinted in white by his sister the moon as she dawned her best war paint and climbed higher into the darkened sky to claim her rightful place as Queen of the dark realm. That readd a sign to all her dark children that tonight would be the night for mischief and mayhem. Danger and chaos. Those who refuse to heed the warnings are fated to die to be spirited away never to be seen again. So hide away and don't make a sound. Never answer the door no matter what. And above all else be weary.

The darkness of night was always dangerous to those whom did not heed the warnings of the monsters whom lurked within the abyss and shadows.

The woman knew that more than anyone else very well. Often finding herself confined within it's hold. Innocence ensnared like a bird within it's cage. Singing it's innocent melodies despite being condemned to be surrounded by cold iron bars. Forever ongoing. Swirling, swirling around

The sun sank beneath the horizon to make way for his sister the moon to take her rightful place upon her throne of darkness surrounded by her army men of stars and comets. 'Come out!' She cried out to her dark children that hid from the light. 'My brother and his infernal light is gone. Once more come out to greet your mother and wreck discord upon thine earth. Have your fun dancing in my gentle glow and bask in the darkness that I reign upon as I watch over you.' The monsters woul answer their mother's cries. Dancing. Reigning havoc over the darkness. Bringing entropy to every household they manage to invade.

Tonight would heed no difference as curtains closed out the soft moonlight lighting the way for monsters. Nothing to see with except the ominous wafting glimmer of candlelight. Footsteps echoed through the darkened room telling of the witchcraft to be spoken of tonight. 

Pale flesh as snow. Hair as shiny ebony as the ravens. And a determination set of conjuring wicked wilds. A spell mumbled past lips as reflections casted off darkly. Mirror rippling like water behind a glass.

"Full moon on the rise. New moon hides from eyes. Dark moon crystalized in skies."

The candlelight flickered. A ghastly coldness sinking inside the locked room. The darkness circling the mirror and seeping into the looking glass. Absorbing it's darkness as a makeshift offering to bring forth the damned conjured.

"One of strongest boo power comes back up from the ground! To enchant the world all around."

A wind echoed throw as draft. Snuffing out the candlelights until a single flame remained on the vanity. Illuminating her distorted face within the reflection. A wind echoed throw as draft. Snuffing out the candlelights until a single flame remained on the vanity. Illuminating her distorted face within the reflection.Faster the ripples swirled and danced. Her mirror form's smile disappearing completely in their grasp.

Black went the mirror completely. Gone went the swirls and no reflection. Just an empty hole to be found. The silence intensifying. Not a whisper from even the small beetle scurrying away in fear, fleeting from the monster that was to come devoir.

"King Boo?"

Time slowed to nothing. Silence as the last candle flickered out. Shutting the world in darkness as her smile widened. Hand reaching out to touch the surface of the darkened glass, nothing stopping her hand from slipping inside- But the empty grip was soon filled with another's hand on her own and two sickening magenta eyes that pierced the night ambience.

"You summoned me after finally so long? Good. I was starting to believe I'd have to trap you in a painting just to get you to spend time with me."

She giggled. "Sorry. But sometimes summoning takes time especially with real life obligations to do."

"That's no excuse! Now get in here and spend time with me! I've got a very special 'appointment ' with E. Gadd later."

"Another painting trap?"

"Actually this one involves a fake hotel trap that's sure to work! Otherwise you'll find me in a jar again."

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ A Raven's Song ⸸

Another meeting under the belt and in hand, though as Vahalia often put it – a card in the back pocket. However this time it felt different, a sprinkle of personal connections dappled into business. She had quickly come to find a likeness and possible friend in the Lady Ravensong. Something she had not considered nor entertained was the equal likeness of the Lady Ravensong’s partner Signus – though there had been enough offered verbally. In the way the two looked at one another, fondly spoke, and shared sentiments that the Ravensong woman and her Viera companion were more than just a simple Lady with a strong name and her advisor. 

Vahalia knew well how to read between the lines and take things as they were afforded. She the audience and the willing receiver to absorb what she could from the two strangers she had swiftly become acquaintances with. Even reaching into reserves of kindness to invite Lady Ravensong to her abode, but also to bridge a possible friendship.

As it had been expressed by Kiarra herself, they were two women cut from the same cloth. A telltale sign of how swimmingly things could possibly go in the future between the pair as it very much seemed the case that Vahalia herself and Kiarra, we’re both women with difficult histories.

Struggle, pain, hardship and loss. Two women reaching through the dark in search for more. Ever grasping higher until it suited their pleasure.

Vahalia simply wanted to know more. She needed to know more about this soon-to-be business partner.

Lumber and ore would have gone a long way into her projects – useful at current even and enough to pique interest. The talks of trading silk and rice or possibly rice wine had been on the table but would require much more delegation and discussions with the Lady of Kiarra’s clan in trade for wines from Valnain.

All things Vahalia rattled around in her head as she climbed the stairs that overlooked the pavilion below within the busy city of Tuliyollal.

She rounded the lip of the final stair, skirts lifting at the hem as the plush grass beneath her feet found rest after the long climb. Signus was right, there were far too many stairs in the colorful city and not nearly enough lifts.

His gaze couldn’t help but linger on the inked expanse of skin above Vahalia’s hips before it became too difficult. Then he met her gaze and promptly when she halted and offered a shrug in response to her rambles "You'll either concoct a way to help each other kill your former spouses, or do that and abscond with each other." he offered, thinking out loud which was often the case when it had just been he and Vahalia, a safe space to share one’s thoughts so openly without judgment, "Oh, and Cordelia will have to be quite convincing to remain your sole provider of textiles." Hakan added with an addendum.

The Lady Cress scoffed lowly, "I doubt that, however, she does seem delightful along with her counterpart. Seems to be a man of science which I can thoroughly appreciate." she paused looking down towards the building where they had left from then back up to Hakan, "So....your Lady, huh?"

She couldn’t help herself to take the opportunity to taunt where she could. It was how Lady Kiarra Ravensong addressed her, no doubt a fond expression of how Hakan had seen Vahalia to him when he had met with Kiarra prior.

Once more, Hakan shrugged "Maybe you'll find her mind attractive enough to make an exception, once you pick it," he mused in a level voice. He folded his arms and hummed. "It was an appropriate title to use. Anything else would have been unprofessional, or potentially lessening."

"Are you hoping I reconsider my interests and bed her or simply that I pick her mind apart?" a hand lowered and reached out for the underside of Hakan’s folded arm beside her, "So you are about professionalism now or do you hide the fact you claimed me as yours?"

"The latter; I hadn't realized she lost her status, her land, and had to reclaim it. That takes more than simple grit and the backing of a more powerful clan." he let his arm be taken, fingers flexing open and closed before it too was likely claimed. "Professionalism. You are technically the Lady I serve and so, however, I might claim the reverse in private, that will remain."

Forever a well-oiled machine, it seemed. Vahalia couldn’t fault him for keeping much of what they shared to more private audiences, but even then such was only a party of two.

Hakan continued, "Whatever influence I may've claimed in the direction you take your House, you are the one with the final say, with the hand on the wheel or the rudder."

Vahalia remained quiet for a moment, appraising Hakan’s hand, looking over what she had known them to be and what they had become over time. Aiming to capture his hand she began to roll his wrist gently, palm up and placed a small, languid kiss along the side of his thumb, "Why should it remain private, what is there to hide now as we have no spouses, already have children and work towards common goals? I would argue we're beyond privacy or hiding unless you prefer to keep such quiet out of shame?" she paused eyes gazing up with venom but such was the way as she often looked, "Are you ashamed of me?" she prodded further. It wasn’t as if courtship was a promise in the books nor was the prospect of having a husband as that axe had long since been buried.

Instinctively his thumb danced up and down, before, during, and after the kiss she had placed upon it. The affection tugged at the corner of his mouth. That quirk eased the more he listened however, disappearing entirely when he noted her look. "No," he replied, answer as hard and heavy as steel. "Regardless of how close we are, what children we have, when I conduct affairs on your behalf to unknowns I will do so respectfully."

Vahalia’s attention shifted to rove over his features, searching for something more than one might have been keen enough for her to pick up on. Shadows raked through her mind and the distant chuckle behind her eyes she had known for far too long, her face free of any joyful expression to mimic what had been lulling within her head, "Why?" she asked. Perhaps not an actual question she wanted to ask but it came all the same.

"Because it is important -- imperative -- that whosoever might do business with you knows where the power is. That in any affair not personal, you're the one they need to focus on, to impress."

Smooth talker. Her brows came to knit and she stepped tentatively in front of him, hands moving around his own to part what stance he decided to take with crossed arms, inserting herself where she wanted -- against him, and lowering his arms around her near the waist out of the way, "There is more to this than the Cress name or what I carry. You should have equal impression." lifting her hands she slowly combed her nails along either side of his face and into his pulled back hair just above his ears. Others live so freely with their interests and desires, out in the open without shame or a second thought, they wear their connections proudly. I'm proud of you. Proud to have you. Were you to ask me to leave my name behind to take up your patronymic, I would. Not a right I reserve to no one else."

He felt her, even allowed her to nestle against his chest as she had often done, possibly finding comfort within the gesture and the loom of his frame in contrast to her own; only going so far as to arch a brow curiously while his hands went to rest on her hips. "In the beginning, I told you that I only wanted a small part of influence regarding whatever decisions you'd make for the House and the company because in the end, it's yours. I understand, now, that you want to share it with me. I appreciate that. But ironically, selfishly, I want you to remain the face of both because they're /yours/. I want you to understand that you can expand either, both, or drive it into the ground to nothingness with my support regardless of why. Maybe I'll take your name as you offer, but the company and house would still be yours to do with in whatever way you please."

Attentive fingers splayed out under the taught strands of Hakan’s hair, nails gently raking in their wake, "I'll keep whats mine as you wish, I just want you. That's all." She had voiced it before, perhaps not in the best of fashions and remembering herself her hands pulled away and lowered, a soft and singlar pat from both palms touching his chest, "I don't want you to think you are not important or that all your work has gone unappreciated. I can't help but want to clutch on to more than what you allow. You have your reasons -- I have mine for feeling how I do. Forgive me. I see others jovial and they seem so open and comfortable with their stations.Now that I say that out loud, I suppose it is selfish of me to not have considered that you are happy and comfortable with yours."

He took a deep breath, then deadpanned "I'm going to shove you off this cliff." There was no weight to it, of course, but the exasperation could be felt. "I understand my importance full well, Halia, believe me. And to how much you appreciate me? That isn't in doubt. But I'm not other people, my feelings don't get hurt if I'm not acknowledged in public as often as others are."

When he spoke she allowed her eyes to wander his expression and her hands drifted away knowing full well she had begun to aggravate him, "Very well, I'll leave you to your thoughts and business and won't linger longer than is necessary, I've taken up enough of your time as it is with current business with the Lady Ravensong. Else you might actually attempt to be rid of me." there was a hint of teasing in her tone elegantly mixed with a dash of defusion. Vahalia pulled away and took to looking over the small cliff nearby, "Do as you wish, I'll head back to the cabins. I should continue to prepare the ship for leave in the coming days to Black Water."

Harshly, Hakan’s tongue clicked in her direction. His hands, clutching her hipsas he sought to drag her back close to him and halting whatever path she had set before herself to leave his presence. "You will have to do more and far worse for that to ever happen. You should know I don't relinquish what I've claimed as mine so easily..." There was a twitch to the corner of his mouth as he stared down at her, fingers half slipping beneath the skirt to dig against pale skin. "I don't need to be acknowledged," he reiterated, "-- But that doesn't mean I think you shouldn't be. It would be too easy for me to disrespect you if I did so the way that comes normally, intimately, and that's not my desire. I want those who see you, those I might bring to see you, to see you first. A woman of too much character to describe. If they learn after that you're mine? They learn that after knowing your worth has impressed them first."

Asshole.

She hadn't much of anywhere to go as she was reeled back in to his space. His denying her leave caused a furrow to her brow as he opted to make his thoughts known, "I can respect that. I understand that and your wishes on the matter. I won't press or pry further, it was merely a curious thought I had acted on expressing. I care little of what others think, you however are a different sort entirely and will always care what you think." Natrually her hand came between them, "In several months; better if it were several weeks, I will have something I wish to show you. Hopefully then my gratitude will be made clear, even though it is clear to you by my words."

In turn her too furrowed his brow down to Vahalia, curious and suspicious. He had requested she 'compensate' him well should the meeting be successful – and it was, but...It was a hard thing, not pressing upon her to reveal what likely was meant a surprise. A painful thing, truthfully, to a mind like his. Pursing his lips, exhaling sharp, he nodded. "Fine. In that case, I'll start now to give what you'll see after several moons too, though the evidence will show far sooner. It won't do, having your brood compared to hers and be seen as less."

Vahalia would have scoffed had she not of laughed first and her hand patted several times between them -- trying its best with what little room there was. Had she of been the blushing sort, surely she would have, "Easy now. I'm speaking of something a little different than what you have in mind. But since you've so kindly reminded me, I'll get to that as well in due course when we both have time and I intend on showing you my thanks in my own way. Grant me that? Our brood or which you choose to call it will come in time. Hmm?"

He thumbed against her bare hips near the skin that decorated pale flesh, what definitely wasn't a pout bending the bow of his mouth. He took a deep breath, exhaled it, the scent of embers and spice and smoke upon the air from his cigar previously in the evening. "I would prefer to plant the next seed here...but, I will...relent."

Well sculpted brows raised as he spoke and Vahalia felt a small smile tug at her mouth, "You want children but have no care for them, simply the act of making them. Should it be a better option for you there is always the notion of simply pretending. But, what good is an empire without its legacies?" she gazed between them and where her hand rested a thought crossing her mind but she comforted herself internally with it, to sit silent with it a little longer.

Both of them knew there was no actual seriousness behind building an empire, simply a comparison he often made to her building upon the foundations of what she already had. Comparable to some, what the Cress name held and deviated from or was destined towards was their own empire to be sure.

Legacies they had built up for themselves since the groundwork had been first laid. Each stone part of the path in which they tred.

"Tst-- there's little enough to do with them beyond changing and feeding them, and as already evidenced, I'm selfish in regards to my food." Hakan eased his hold her hips, slid fingers free where they'd been pressing and pushing the skirt down with. She wasn't wrong through, despite the protest. He should feel terrible, but it wasn't in him to feel so,  "Legacies can be chains, and an heir needn't hold the same name to honor the first...but, if ours chose it of their own will...that'd be something to be proud of."

‘Ours’ He had put it so absolutely. A happy skip pulsed within her ribs.

Vahalia lingered within her quietness and sitting with her thoughts asshe eventually lowered her hands to stop him at the wrists, eyes natrually beckoned to his own as she scanned over the refined features of his face, soft golden orbs tracing the lines of his markings and scars, "If we have as say in this and planning to its fullest, where intent is solid then I want our next and the futures onward to be bore out of a place of care and adoration, not desire or needs in a moment. Whatever they choose then they will do so with something in their backpockets.”

She continued after a breath, fullying bearing her mind, “-- Proper support from parents neither of us had. I'd rather leave them to a legacy by choice than ash and ruins of failure thrust upon them."

"I see no issue with children born of the former -- The opposite, in fact. I'd not suggest nor attempt to make it a reality here, now, in this place, otherwise." He turned his hands away from her hips, sought to hold her wrists in the same manner she held his. "Yours would be a legacy worthy to inherit, of a builder."

Vahalia 's fullest attention darted over his eyes as she felt her shoulders relax when he took hold of her wrists – he was quite serious,, "I am no builder, but perhaps one of our children might. When we're dead and gone, there is little else left of us except for what we pass down. Mortal as I am, I still wish to have a lasting effect for those tied to me. To take care of them for as long as I can, even if it is only gil that holds my memory for them or a roof over their head. Heavens and hells forbid, if I leave before you, atleast there is something for you to take care of yourself with, and them as well. I think only of the long term. I leave the present to you."

Hakan leveled a flat look down at Vahalia. "You've not been paying attention to your work if you actually believe that you are no builder. Regardless, whatever comes after us won't be of issue. If we've taught them well, they'll succeed, and neither of plans on doing otherwise. And if you actually left the present to me, well..." He rolled a shoulder; he'd already expressed what he wanted in the moment and as heavy as the conversation could be, there was no changing that.

“Be it far from me to deny you the simple pleasures in life. There is work to be done, however.”

He hiked a brow as she spoke. It was only part of what he wanted, but it was the much larger part. The rest could wait as she wanted -- the work especially.

[ w/ @belgravexiv ]

[evoblue]

re: dead girl walking

As you all know, Blue is based on the beta concept for the unused female trainer in RBY, which is often forgotten, unknown, or simply considered a 'dead girl' in creepypasta. I've tried to incorporate these concepts into my portrayal and that's how I ended up in the 'dead girl walking' concept.

In almost every universe except this one, Blue is dead. This is why people don't know or forget her, etc. In a way, it's a curse that haunts her in every lifetime. Her life in this universe is the longest she's ever lived because, even though she's had plenty of near-death experiences, she somehow manages to make it out alive, whether by her own merit or by the grace of some other entity's help. This is why, when she sees her reflection in the ungaikyō, she sees herself as dead and it's also why the demonic entities in the spirit world are trying to reclaim her. To the universe, she's living on borrowed time.

She's unaware of this but this connection to death affects how certain pokémon perceive her. Fairy-type pokémon find her unusually interesting, and she's able to forge incredibly strong bonds with ghost-type pokémon like her Ceruledge. Her Gengar, BooFace, would be able to pinpoint her presence from halfway across the world and materialize beside her if he had to. Nieva, her Froslass, was drawn to her presence when Blue was climbing Mt. Coronet toward Snowpoint City, and is the only reason why Blue survived the avalanche there that should have claimed her life.

The following is a growing list of people, places, and pokémon that have either attempted or succeeded to kill Blue in this and other lifetimes:

Old abandoned well in the grounds of the Aozaki mansion, drowned

Team Rocket grunts in Silph Tower, succumbed to broken neck or other injuries*

Whirl Islands, drowned*

Car accident with Red and Green during a road trip, succumbed to injuries

Mt. Silver Avalanche, buried alive*

Sinnoh Route 217 avalanche, buried alive*

Plane ride en route to Kalos, plane crashed into the ocean

Ex-lover, stabbed in murder-suicide

Village Bridge Bannette, attempted suffocation and live burial, failed*

Hoard of ravenous demonic creatures, failed*

Mt. Silver Haunter, shadow claws and poison, failed*

Most of these (marked with *) have happened in this lifetime. Almost all of them have succeeded in killing her in other lifetimes. Sometimes, people close to her will have nightmares in which she dies; these are reflections of past or future realities that have or will come to pass in some lifetime.

[nocteacakes]

Coriolanus has been looking for her ever since the games. Her scent is imprinted into his brain.

// snowbaird omegaverse 568 words

(prompt 'in a crowd' from snowbairdprompt on Twitter)

The Hob teems with people — other Omegas, other Alphas. Their scents clash with each other, and it overwhelms his Capitol nose; he isn’t used to so many Unclaimed people without suppressants. If he hadn’t thought it before, it’s blatantly apparent that he lives in a District now. Even so, he picks out her scent in the stuffy warehouse, and it gives him hope. In a crowd, in the zoo, in the arena — he knows that scent and he can — he will — find her anywhere.

When he sees her, it’s like a punch to the gut and a smack upside the head at the same time. They lock eyes and everything else falls away. She’s his — his songbird, his girl, his Omega to claim. Nothing else matters.

— Ω —

She likes swimming and he gets in because the water is cool. In the lake it's just him and her, and the water dulls all other scents so he can pretend there's no one else for miles. He can imagine it’s just them, that he's finally alone with His Girl, His Omega.

She kisses him in the middle of the lake with the hot summer breeze rifling his hair, and it feels like he's drowning in her. If this is how he goes, he will welcome death with open arms. Just not yet, not before he gets his fill of her. He’s ravenous for her; he can't get enough. He wants to consume her whole, carve out a place for himself in her and leave his mark on her forever. She's here, and she's real, and he can feel her bones underneath his hands, soft skin kissed by sun and now him. He follows a trail of water down her neck with his tongue.

Eventually, they climb out of the lake. She’s releasing pheromones in waves, so intense they nearly bowl him over. Suddenly, it feels too open, too exposed. He can't protect her like when they were in the water. He can’t know all the threats around her like in the Capitol.

The cabin door creaks on its hinges, and Coryo questions the stability of the one-room shack. As quickly as the thought comes, it leaves. He can't focus on that just right now. He can't focus on anything but gorgeous, lovely, enticing Lucy Gray, standing before him in a towel and her swimsuit, dark curls dripping lake water and big beautiful eyes full of trust for him. Her smell pervades the small space and Coryo can't hold himself back anymore. He reaches for her, and she reaches for him like she knows; she yearns for what's coming just as much as he does. Their kiss is an explosion; it rattles him to his core like that fateful day in the arena. She arches up into him, arms tight around his neck, and he pulls her to him, wet skin to wet skin and the curve of her delicate neck beneath his mouth. He sucks at her glands and she shudders along her whole body. He sucks harder, squeezes her side — a soft moan and she's limp against him, a pliable Omega for his taking.

"Coryo Coryo please please please." She whispers his name like a prayer — claim her and deliver her from her nightmares.

He does.

—— A/N: I'm still somehow fucking stuck on present tense and let me tell you, it's driving me BATSHIT. The backstory to this one is actually more crazy because I was thinking about muzzled Alphas lmao and Coryo being muzzled when he's in public. Maybe I'll turn this into a longer one-shot on AO3 because I kinda feel bad that I stopped before the fucking lol