#The Jewel Keeper

[awehaven]

An early bejewelled silver cat brooch.

from The Jewel Keeper.

[zip-toonz]

Redesign of the Oldest Lalaloopsy Oc I made

[lucyshypemaster]

keefe was actually insane for this

[fafayayarhen]

How many rings will Roderich have? Will he even get any? Does he have a favorite? What will it look like? Do he he have to return them to his exes when they're no longer married?

Many

Kidding it should only be up to 4 if we count the main once from Spain, Portugal, France and Hungary. Unless we feel like adding more for the funsies though I cannot think of any further major ruling figures Habsburgs married off into the other sovereigns that wouldn't like. Make it look like an entire polygamous bit (Austrian monarchs marrying into the Dutch line was in the period of the Spanish and Austrian branches unity, and we can get away with the Portuguese bit because the major marriage later was during the Spanish succession war, Maria Anna and Joao V 1708 - 1750) ... so 4 is the perfect number to stop at.

Considering both spouses have their own rings and Roderich is synonymous with tu felix austria nube, he'd have kept them because 1) They're sure as hell expensive antique and nothing comes close to the unique look of said rings.

And 2) Maybe when he's feeling mischievous and wants to taunt them he'd wear the rings to meetings and conferences. Particularly to mess with France. Especially to mess with France. And simultaneously making Spain's blood boil and remembering why he wants to murder France and it's not because of Napoleon this time.

Favourite rings: from the marriage with Spain & Hungary.

[devilatelier]

ok so... onigumo.

i differentiate him from naraku because i believe they're different beings coexisting in one patchwork body. at least that's how i headcanon it. but.

i kinda... wanted to humanize him a bit more. i do think he was still a diabolical criminal, and overall horrible person. but i like the idea that he actually did love kikyo, if only because she was the only closest thing to kindness he ever experienced. she saved his life, and he absolutely idolized her and put her on a pedestal. so much so that he was willing to trade his soul to be with her.

[dearjewels22]

whew... got a lot of work to do. God can do a miracle in 9 months!

[lilareviewsbooks]

July Reading Wrap-Up

Hey, everyone! Last month I forgot to post a wrap-up, so, to make up for it, here’s what I read in July, on time! My fav this month was definitely the Trials of Apollo quintet, which was just so much fun! More on that after the “read more” :) 

Who Could It Be At This Hour?, by Lemony Snicket

4 stars

258 pages

Contains: incompetent adults; really smart kids; a mystery

I read this for the first time when I was a kid, after loving A Series of Unfortunate Events. I remember really loving this, although I never finished the series because I couldn’t find the books in my native Brazil. I decided to listen to the audiobook again, as I was craving middle grade this month! It follows Lemony Snicket himself (the author’s name is pseudonym) as he begins his initiation into a secret society by teaming up with a mentor (who is terrible at her job) to solve a mystery in a run-down little town.

It ended up being a pretty good experience. The narration is very expressive and so on that side I had a lot of fun. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that involved by the mystery itself – and I didn’t remember anything from when I first read it, at all, so that wasn’t the problem, here. But the characters and the writing style are just too charming for you not to fall a little bit in love with the book. And, as always, with Mr. Snicket’s books, I just love how absolutely and utterly incompetent any adult is, and how qualified and smart all the children are. Honestly, in the real world, things are kind of like that, anyway!

How Far The Light Reaches: A Life In Ten Sea Creatures, by Sabrina Imbler

3 stars

272 pages

Contains: depictions of sea animals; discussions of sapphic life; discussions of gender

I read this because it was the non-fiction pick for SapphLit, a sapphic book club I’m a part of (and that you should totally join, if you’re sapphic, because it’s so cool!). I was really interested, at first. I’m really scared of the deep ocean, so I thought it would be kind of fun to read these essays and maybe get a little bit creeped out – even if it wasn’t the author's intention that I was creeped out lmao.

Unfortunately, this really didn’t do it for me. I found the structure repetitive. Mx. Imbler interlocks descriptions of sea life with their own experience, making some sort of comparison between her situation and an aspect of that creature’s life. By the tenth time they’ve done it, in the exact same way, though, you are more than tired. I was expecting some diversity, some innovation, but no… All the essays play out exactly the same. That’s not to say there aren’t interesting ideas, here, but the format they’re in is disappointing, and I wanted more from this.

Before They Are Hanged, by Joe Abercrombie

5 stars

441 pages

Contains: a quest for… wait, we don’t know what they’re questing for!; fun characters!!; the weirdest sex scene you’ve ever read in your life

If any of you read my The Blade Itself review, the first book in the First Law Trilogy, I think you’ll be surprised by my rating of this one. I did not like The Blade Itself that much, and struggled to even finish it, skipping over multiple parts, especially the fight scenes, just to get it out of the way. I didn’t think I’d continue on with this series, but the urge hit me this month to see the characters again, and I decided to try this one out. Luckily, I also had the audiobook, which gave me a totally immersive experience – the audiobook is excellent, by the way! – and helped with my overall enjoyment.

I think my favorite thing about this series has always been the characters, and they shine, here, since they actually have something to do. My problem with The Blade Itself was that it felt like endless, endless set up. Nothing really happens. Now, reading Before They Are Hanged, I can say for sure that was it. The story really starts, for most of the characters, in this second installment, and so I wonder if Mr. Abercrombie couldn’t have done it differently. But, regardless of my problems with The Blade Itself, Before They Are Hanged is just so fun. Truly a triumph! And I highly, highly recommend!

The Moth Keeper, by K. O’Neil

5 stars

265 pages

Contains: a very sweet village; gorgeous art; gay people!!

Oh my God, I finally got my hands on a copy of The Moth Keeper! Thank you Boston Public Library, you will always be famous!

K. O’Neil is my favorite graphic novel artist. Their work with The Tea Dragon Society just blew me away, and I was anxiously awaiting this book. It follows Anya, who lives in nocturnal village where the population depends on magical moths, guarded by the Moth Keeper, a job Anya hopes to have. But the journey to do so might not be so easy, after all.

I loved this one especially because of the beautiful art! I just adore Mx. O’Neil’s art style. The story is also just so hopeful and lovely! I love the tone that they manage to impart here, almost as if this is an ancient myth being told to you in a more approachable form. I’m excited to read it again, soon, as see what else I can glean from this wonderful graphic novel!

The Bone Orchard, by Sara A. Mueller

2.5 stars

432 pages

Contains: gothic elements; ghosts? Kinda?; necromancy

Okay, so this one… This one is hard to explain. Basically, it follows Charm, the emperor’s mistress and a necromancer, who has created various “bone-ghosts”. Together, they live in a mansion called Orchid House, where they run a brothel. When the emperor dies, however, Charm is enlisted to solve the murder…

I wanted to like this one so, so much! Unfortunately, it was just incredibly confusing in… not a good way. I couldn’t get involved with the characters or the story, because it was all shrouded in this not-so-cool mystery. It was just so, so confusing that you couldn’t even get into it because you had no idea what was going on on a deeper level. It’s also not a murder mystery at all – more like a political thriller, but the politics are too confusing to actually follow, important things happen off-screen and the importance of certain factors to the story ebb and flow (sometimes money is important, sometimes it absolutely isn’t, for example). Still, the writing was compelling and some parts were fun, so I ended up giving it three stars.

The Jewel and Her Lapidary, by Fran Wilde

3 stars

89 pages

Contains: a very unique magic system; a female… friendship? Are they gay? What’s going on with my girls?; the invasion of a kingdom

Also a hard one to summarize, since it’s so short, but this one follows Lin, a member of the royal family, and her sworn companion, the lapidary Sima, when their kingdom is attacked.

I enjoyed this. The magic system is fantastically unique, focusing on jewels as the sources of magic. However, the plot didn’t really do it for me. It was too nicely tied up, with not enough conflict. The character development also seemed all over the place. So I had trouble giving it over 3 stars. However, I like the universe very much – especially because of the magic system which is, like I said, completely unique, and totally took me by surprise. I think I’ll read the next books in the series, since they don’t follow the same characters. I’ll come right back with the results!

The Trials of Apollo Quintet, by Rick Riordan

The Hidden Oracle; The Dark Prophecy; The Burning Maze; The Tyrant’s Tomb & The Tower of Nero

All 5 stars

Av. of 350 pages (X 5 = av. of 1750 pages)

Contains: a chaotic 12-year-old; strong friendships; discussions of abusive family

Alright: this was it, the grand attraction of my month! I blew through the entire series over the course of like, a week, while I was on a family trip, and had the time of my life!

So, first off, if you’re not a Percy Jackson veteran, let me explain this series to you:��The Trials of Apollo Quintet follows – can you say it with me – the god Apollo as he’s cast down to Earth for the third time to live out some trials as a human. And soon, he finds himself implicated in some business involving stolen oracles, roman emperors and a very grumpy 12-year-old. Just delightful older-middle grade! 

(Careful, though! If The Trials of Apollo sounds interesting to you, I’m terribly sorry to inform you that it’s a continuation to the Percy Jackson series, and that you do need to read that (5 books) and The Heroes of Olympus series (5 books) before continuing on with this one. And yes, it’s absolutely necessary. Sorry!)

The Trials of Apollo was a lovely experience! The adventures are divided into bite-sized, 350 page books, all with a central quest and prophecy, and, as always with Rick Riordan, are riddled with obscure creatures and gods from Roman and Greek mythology, mixed with some pop-culture flair and plenty of good humor! Reading this put me right back in my Percy Jackson phase (where I belong) as well as took me way, way back, to my first time reading Mr. Riordan’s books. 

Even though The Trials of Apollo didn’t end how I hoped, I really appreciate Mr. Riordan’s work on Apollo’s character. His relationships, especially with his constant companion Meg, are remarkable, and evolve nicely along with him. Not to mention, the gayness factor has been upped considerably in this universe, and I just think that’s neat.

Thank you all for reading and I’ll come back next month with more updates :) In the mean time, if you need a SFF book rec, drop me an ask and I’ll get back to you ASAP!

[shsenhaji]

📚 June and July Reading Round-Up 📚

Since I didn't post my June Reading Round-Up, here is both June and July together!

I didn't read much in June, but sort of made up for that in July.

In June, I read:

- Intrigues by Mercedes Lackey (enjoyable, good follow-up to the first book, very heart-wrenching in places, interested to see where the plot and the conflicts go from here, liked the characters, Mags my beloved, that ending!)

- Magic's Pawn by Mercedes Lackey (very good, plot not quite what I expected going in, poor Vanyel!, really liked the thematic resonance of the ending, enjoyed how Vanyel's character and emotional growth was handled)

- The Keeper's Six by Kate Elliot (my first Kate Elliot book, good, couldn't really connect emotionally to the themes and the writing style, liked the messages and characters, loved the worldbuilding, was left with questions but a satisfying ending)

In July, I read:

- Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros (so good!!!! Loved the narration, the writing, Violet and her character growth, the relationships with the other characters, the romance, the worldbuilding, enjoyed how the author subverted tropes and wrote them in her own way, that ending!!! Very scared but excited for the next book)

- Poster Girl by Veronica Roth (read it in two consecutive sittings, enjoyed the worldbuilding and the themes, liked the ending, definitely a lot of interesting questions to think through, interesting perspective from the main character)

- Exit Strategy by Martha Wells (quick read, wasn't as immersed in the writing as with the previous books, some very iconic lines, heartfelt as ever, reunion didn't disappoint, emotional ending)

- A Restless Truth by Freya Marske (great and very enjoyable, gripping and compelling, got more emotionally invested as I read, loved the themes and characters and pacing, Maud and Violet my beloveds, loved seeing Alan and Hawthorn)

- Daughter of the Blood by Anne Bishop (re-read, didn't feel as groundbreaking as when I first read it, but I still enjoyed it a lot)

- Heir to the Shadows by Anne Bishop (read it in one sitting, loved the character growth and development, somewhat emotionally exhausting but well-paced)

[juicy-froot]

February 2025 Lord Ganesh Infinite Abundance Obstacles are being removed. Spiritual support and connections are increasing. Enjoy a month of life, loving, Joyful dancing, and the lightness of a perfect path unfolding. It's important to move beyond the limitations and focus on what is for our highest good, then the universe will take us there safely. Ganesh brings us clear light to our circumstances and situations and helps us clear up any inner conflicts. When obstacles arise, know that they are just reminders that we care about our past and that we have the ability to change our current situation. Ganesh is here to help us. Thank him for clearing the way. Mantra: To increase our connection to him we may want to chant "Om, Gam, gum Ganapataye namaha. #ganesh   #keeperofthelight for the month Of February 2025 #february2025

Lord Ganesh

[adhdedrn]

First poll.

Second poll.

Fourth poll.

Fifth poll.

[romancegifs]

Thebes. City of the Living. Crown jewel of Pharaoh Seti the First. Home of Imhotep, Pharaoh's high priest, keeper of the dead. Birthplace of Anck-su-namun, Pharaoh's mistress. No other man was allowed to touch her. But for their love, they were willing to risk life itself.

THE MUMMY dir. Stephen Sommers

[bnyf]

╭﹕୨୧﹒ yandere pirate x willing mermaid reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, suggestive, stalkholm syndrome, kidnapping, size difference

╰﹕୨୧﹒ authoress note : requested ♡ still having trouble writing smut but i'll get there! thank you anon for requesting apologies for how long this took ^_^

greedy fucking man. so, so greedy. he's so manly too. such an earthly being with all his earthly cravings. him and his men, moving from island to island to plunder every village and kingdom of it's golds, treasures and riches.

god, men were such pleasure bonded creatures. men are greedy.

and yet you admired them, and yet you loved them, wanted to be like them, walk in their shoes. you had no idea just how cruel men were. but you were about to find out.

you'd always swim up to the surface to watch humans, to study and observe what they were like. sure, your father had told you all the tall tales about how horrible humans were, yet you choose not to believe him. foolish.

worst yet, you wanted to be like those beings, which scared your father and made him ban you from going on the syrface again. but when did a dumb little fish like you ever listen to the echos of the back of the hallow head of yours? better yet, those who know better like your father?

exactly. that's why your now his property.

whomst? you may ask? the very same greedy pirate, that barbaric man, that your father warned you about.

you were not supposed to be on the surface, espcially at night. but you wanted to spy on the pirates who'd crashed in for the night. pirates don't usually park there boats up on land but when they do, it's probably to plot a raid.

and then little ole you got carried away, trying to steal a few goods from the humans when you were shamelessy caught by no other than the crew's captain. a large, muscular, bulk of a man. his eyes gave everything away though, those dark orbs held nothing but humanly desire and evil in them.

"well, well, well," his barren of a voice rumbled from his chest, speaking to you in a low tone. "are you lost, little mermaid? shh, it's alright dear, i won't hurt a sweet little thing like you. i promise. but, i won't return you either, since you're in my territory, you belong to me. finders keepers, amiright?"

he snatched you up like nothing and dragged you even further away from the ocean. and you helplessly wiggled in his grasp. from then on, he ordered his men to build a little portal fish tank, just good enough for you to fit and swin from point A to point B.

you were restricted heavily, being only allowed to see him and speak to him. any crewmate who dares hold any sort of interaction with you would be slaughtered mercilessly and their body thrown overboard. to say the captain was infatuated with you would be a mere understatment. that man wanted to curl up into your mind and preoccupy it 24/7.

you were treated like a pet. fed, bathed, and completely taken care of, all your needs and wants were meet each time, all you had was to do was say it and he'd present it. he has too much gold, jewels, diamonds, lavish silks, treasures, ect. anyways. he doesn't like sharing but now with his littld mermaid darling here? he might as well rip out his heart and present it to you. he wants to share his entire life with you, and hopefully you'd want that too right?

his words like poison, his calloused hands that have killed to many to count always wrapped around you, those insane eyes drinking you down like a gold glass of water on a sunny day, and his long beautiful unkept hair, braids messt and all tickling your face.

his voice made you wonder if he were a siren in disguise.

"have you had enough for the evening darling? or is your appetite insatiable like mines?" he cracked a chuckle, his lips touching your ears. that man did not care if he was wetting his clothes everytime he had to get phsyical with you. and that meant two things actually, if you know what i mean~

you of course noded. at this point you've accepted this and have become completely compliant. you were strange to him. sure. women would fling themselves at him, he had no qualms with getting laid but you? you were confused, then curious, now complaint and it made him wonder if you wanted this all along.

it made him confident actually. he didn't hold back to be weird, touchy or crazy over you. because you liked it, right? you loved when his hands roamed your body, when he explored you, his crazy words like "if you dare look at another man on this boat i'll punish you serverly... after i've killed that motherfucker of course."

and

"you belong to me, you're sole purpose is to bear my children, entertain me, and enjoy all the amazing pleasures this world has to offer. do you understand? if you do, say 'yes husband'."

and you did. you nod in agreement to him and uttered those words like it was nothing. he loved you for that. he didn't have to do to much to break you, you were already broken to begin with.

but he wanted to see just how far gone you were... so, one lovely midnight, after a harsh day of pirate work (read: plundering, killing, raiding, conquring all that belonged to him, rightfully.) your beloved husband took you to the sea for the first time in ages, watching you seemlessly swim about as your scales on your tail shimmer like diamonds in the pale moonlight, and that beautiful iridescent color shines through it, as though it's almost transparent. he can see through your lower half a little like an angel fish.

he only marvels at your wonderfulness. but when you swam up to him, placing your hand on his beating chest and looking up at him with nothing but love and admiration. something in him just... snapped. you were so much smaller than him, most your body mass being your tail. his strong arms reach for your waist his mind was going insane with lust. a beautiful being like yourself had such feelings for him despite the fact that he kidnapped you and kept you away from society.

was it stalkholm syndrom?... well, whatever it was now he knew for sure you were just as insane as him and it wasn't just fear why you were complyubg to him.

there was no formalities whatsoever. not even a plain subtle kiss, he straight on kissed your lips and stuck his tongue inside your mouth. a wet, messy make out session before you'd feel his length poking you.

it will be an entirely long night for you both.

[vintagegeekculture]

In the 1980s, did you have a folder, or perhaps a Trapper Keeper, that had a painting of dolphins in beautiful jewel like waters, or alternatively, flying through outer space? Who did all those paintings, anyway?

The answer is Christian Riese Lassen, an avid surfer who loves all things oceanic, spiritual, and cosmic.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most p.4 | S.B.

feat. Sirius Black x Rowle!reader

SUMMARY: You attend the Lestrange Gala on Rabastan's arm, finally making your family proud. But all things must come to the light, and with time running out, a decision must be made.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, pure blood ideology, manipulative and abusive families, angst angst angst, protective!Sirius, hurt/comfort, HEA

AN: wow! this is long! but ahhh! can't believe we've reached the final part of the series!! but don't worry, I'm not done with this one quite yet...

series navigation | part one | part two | part three | masterlist

You tried to focus on the book in your lap, but the words were swimming on the page, taking the shape of your argument with Sirius.

He's lying to you.

You don't understand.

Please don't leave.

He'd been so passionate, so single-minded in his desire for you—it scared the shit out of you. His words were pretty, his intentions righteous, but was that enough?

For so long, the story of your life has been drilled into your head. Over and over and over again. A wealthy man's wife, the jewel of his crown, the mother of his children, keeper of the bloodline.

What were you beyond that? Who were you, if not obedient?

The train rolled loudly beneath you, the Scottish country side a blur of green and gray. It was a long weekend, and it seemed loads of students were taking advantage.

Before boarding, you caught a glimpse of James and Sirius with some bags waiting in a patch of sunshine. Of course James Potter would use a free weekend to visit his parents.

Sirius was puffing on a cigarette, staring down at the tracks while James talked animatedly about something you couldn't hear. He looked…sad. And you turned away, following your brother onto the back of the train.

You were in a compartment with Thorfinn, his long legs stretched out and resting on the cushion beside you, his head lolled against the window. But you knew he wasn't sleeping, because his snores would rattle the windows more than the train.

He was oddly quiet, though, and the threat of danger buzzed like a gnat around your head. You wished you'd insisted on sharing at compartment with Rab, but Thorfinn dragged you away before you could open your mouth.

“What are you staring at?” He gruffed, peaking open one of his eyes to peer at you.

You hurriedly looked down at your book, but it was too late. He pushed himself up, cracking his thick neck before bracing his elbows on his knees and leaning towards you.

“We need to talk.”

You closed your book, setting it aside with trembling fingers. “What about?”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. A bizarrely human gesture of discomfort. “Father wrote two weeks ago, the—the business is not going well.”

Your stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

It looked like it genuinely pained him to be telling you this, and your addled mind couldn't begin to decipher it. “We're running out of money, y/n. Rapidly. If things continue, we may lose…” he trailed off, staring down at his fine leather shoes. “We may lose everything.”

“Why are you just telling me this now?” You asked, voice tight with fear. Was there anything secure in your life anymore? At every turn, if seemed danger and uncertainty lurked.

All you ever wanted was safety, and that seemed more impossible by the day.

“I didn't want it to affect—” he waved vaguely towards the closed compartment door. Towards Rabastan. “I didn't want it to be a factor. Father told me to keep it from you, but sister—” he reached for your hand, the bandage removed by Madame Pomfry that morning, and it took every ounce of willpower you'd built to not pull away. “You may be our last hope.”

You shook your head, tears springing to your eyes. “I can't, Thor—”

“You already are,” he said. “With the Lestrange's on our side, Father can turn this around. Save our family.”

You held his icy gaze, shocked by what was transpiring. Thor hadn't spoken to you like this in…Merlin, years? He'd become so tight-lipped, so hostile, you'd forgotten that there was man inside that brutal, glacial exterior.

But…was he a man you trusted?

“I should go to him now, then,” you said, the compartment suddenly stifling. “Have some quiet time before the party.”

Thorfinn nodded. “I'm not supposed to allow unsupervised meetings, but…this once I can let it slide.”

“Thank you, brother.” You leaned forward to kiss his cheek, surprising him, before slipping out of the compartment before he changed his mind.

You slumped against the wall, catching your breath and wiping tears from your cheeks. How had this all ended up on your shoulders? Your family, your future, your feelings, Sirius’ feelings—it was too much.

All you ever wanted was safety. Security.

For a moment of delirious hope you thought about tracing down Sirius’ compartment, begging him to take you to the Potter Manor with him. Let yourself want him as recklessly as he did you. But what Sirius offered was a pipedream, a fantasy, and you'd always been a practical girl.

You could only see one reality laid before you. Unrolled like a red carpet at your feet.

No matter how you felt about Sirius, how much you felt for him, could you risk everything for a shot at something as fickle as love?

What happened when he got tired of you in six months? When the novelty wore off? When the heat of an illicit affair turned tepid and stale?

Sirius would resent you. You would resent him. It could only end in heartbreak for the both you. Could only end in pain.

You raped a knuckle on the door of Rabastan's compartment.

“Come in,” he called, sounding a bit distracted.

You slid open the door, peaking your head in. “Am I disturbing you?”

He closed the book in his lap, setting aside the quill in his hand for notes. Dressed in luxurious clothes, even for a train ride he thought he'd be spending alone. “Never, darling. Are you alright?”

You sat on the cushion beside him, his dark eyes sweeping over you, tangible as a caress. “Thorfinn is snoring too loud for me to think straight,” you lied. “And I thought maybe we could spend some time together, before tonight?”

He smiled, turning so his back was braced against the train window and he was facing you, one leg propped up on the seat. It was a casual position, spread out and languid, and your cheeks flushed with heat at the near indecency of it.

Rabastan never did anything by mistake, and this was no exception. His perceptive eyes watched your reaction, and something sinful flickered to life in them as the blush stained your skin.

“Your brother was under strict orders to prevent unsupervised interactions,” Rab pointed out, tilting his head slightly.

“We'll be in London by the time he wakes up, he won't even notice,” you replied.

He made a soft, contemplative sound in his throat. “I didn't take you for the rebellious type, little doe.” He pushed his dark hair back from his face, revealing every sharp angle and curve, a face carved by the Goddess Aphrodite herself. Flawless.

You'd make beautiful, perfectly pureblood children, that was for sure. Not that you cared much for that, beauty or blood status, and you hadn't ever really contemplated whether you wanted children. It was just what was done.

“I'm not, usually,” you said. “I'm not sure what's come over me.” At least that wasn't entirely a lie.

“You always have this lost look in your eye,” he murmured. “Beautiful, fuck, you're beautiful. But sad, aren't you?”

His words struck a chord, tears brimming once more, weighing down the buoyancy of his praise.

You were so tired of being sad all the time, afraid. You just wanted to forget for awhile, and just be.

Rab shifted, setting his feet on the ground and moving closer to you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him. “Darling, I could make you so happy.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, achingly tender, and a sob wrenched itself from your chest. “Sh, sh, my love, it's alright now.” He swiped away your tears with his thumbs. “You're safe with me. You'll never know hardship or pain again, if you just let me take care of you.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes, his expression painfully sincere. And you knew he meant it, knew that he would never let harm come to his wife. If you were his, you were as secure as gold in Gringott's. Untouchable.

“Just tell me what you need from me, and it's yours,” he whispered, eyes shimmering with promise.

Right now, all you wanted was to forget. To feel something other than gnawing, consuming fear.

“Don't want to think anymore,” you breathed. “I'm so tired of thinking.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, sharp as a dagger and twice as dangerous. “I think I can manage that.” He dragged you towards him, molding his lips to yours. You leaned into him, letting his mouth guide yours through the lush, toe-curling kiss. His tongue glided over your lower lip, tasting you, and you parted for him, moaning as his tongue twined with yours.

Rab felt so good, so assured and deliberate. It was easy to give in to him, to let him take the lead.

One of his arms looped around your waist, hauling you up and into his lap, straddling him. His hand on your face slid into your hair, gentle but firm as he deepened the kiss. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, heat spilling into your lower belly. You gave a tentative roll of your hips, desperate for more than a kiss, and you felt him smile against your mouth.

“Eager, darling?” He purred, kissing down your neck. “As tempting as you are, little doe, there will be none of that until you're mine.”

“Rab,” you whined, digging your fingers into his muscular shoulders, head tipping back to give him more access.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty.” His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush to his chest as he thrust his hips up, making you gasp. “Go on, sweetheart. Show me what a perfect little wife you'll be.”

His words send a terrifying, exhilarating thrill through your body, a visceral reaction beyond rationality. It was a like a drunk being passed a handle of whiskey, everything you ever wanted at your fingertips.

Pretty little wife.

A path. A plan. A purpose.

You rocked your hips against him again, crying out when the thick bulge of his cock grazed your clit. Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, it felt so good, losing yourself in him. Letting the world slip free from your shoulders like the moans slipping from your lips.

Rab chuckled low in his throat, his hand skimming down your stomach, dipping beneath your skirt and panties to feel your dripping pussy, leaking obediently into his hand as his middle finger swirled your entrance. “You're a vision, darling. Absolute perfection,” he praised, the words hot and breathy against your skin. “Being so good.” His finger slipped inside of you, curling against your gooey walls, and you keened, aching thighs working you even faster against his palm.

“Mmph—Rab, m’so close,” you whimpered, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Go on, let go for me. There's my precious girl, that's it—” his whispered encouragement sent you over the edge, muffling your cry into his neck as pleasure seized you, hips bucking erratically as you rode out your high.

“Fuck, fuck,” you gasped, heart pounding in your ears, between your legs, as you slowly returned to earth, melting into his sturdy embrace.

Rabastan slid his fingers from you, taking a small taste of you for himself before feeding the digit between your lips. ��Well done, love. Came so pretty for me.” He kissed along your temple, your cheek while you sucked yourself off of his finger.

He withdrew his finger, patting your cheek like you would an obedient dog, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

Suddenly, what you were doing hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd crawled into his lap like a bitch in heat, desperate and lonely, and so pathetic—your whole body stiffened in his arms, fighting the urge to recoil from him.

How could you have done this? Walked into his trap so willingly after everything? Betrayed Sirius’ open-heart so completely?

It took everything in you to swallow the tears forcing their way up your throat.

The train whistled, long and ear-splitting, and you jumped off his lap, so relieved your knees nearly gave out beneath you.

“Thor is going to wake up, I have to go.” You righted yourself, willfully ignoring the wet spot you left on his designer trousers, the raging hard on still tenting in his lap. “I'll see you tonight?”

“Run along, little doe. I'll see you tonight.” He waved you away.

You hurried back into the hall, nearly tipping over your feet when the train started to slow as it approached the station.

Thor wrenched open the compartment door, blue eyes landing on you. You have him a stiff nod, knowing what he wanted from you, and he grinned, jagged as the spikes of a bear trap.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The emerald gown Rab selected for you was exquisite, tailored to perfection from its halter neckline to the slit reaching towards your hip. It looked like it had been poured onto you, hugging every curve. You should feel beautiful, but instead you felt deeply vulnerable. Like you may as well walk out there naked. All your secrets from the last month written across your skin.

After departing from the train, you and Thorfinn met up with your parents for tea, and you endured their endless questions and backhanded praise, leaving you feeling battered and even more ashamed than you already had.

It all felt so…hopeless.

Your eye wandered to your trunk, where the invisibility cloak was hidden away. A final sliver of hope. You didn't think you were brave enough to use it, if this morning was any indication. But you'd brought it anyways, knowing it was what Sirius wanted.

Your mind tugged one way, your heart another. Without this marriage your family could be left destitute. Your future a compete mystery.

And clearly, the allure of Rabastan's security and power was more formidable than you'd bargained for. The slightest push, and you'd folded. Fear making you desperate, foolish, cowardly.

And maybe that's what you were. Maybe Sirius was wrong about you.

The door to your suite creaked open, your mother sticking her head through the crack. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yes, mother,” you replied, rising from your makeup table and smoothing your dress. “I'm ready.”

You walked arm and arm with your mother down to the party, tuning out her endless instructions on how you should act and heave, who you should speak to, who you should ignore.

But as soon as you stepped into the ballroom, she fell silent in awe. It was stunningly lavish, every table dripping in velvet and diamonds,the glittering chandeliers overhead extravagant enough to compete with Gringotts. The marble floor clicked under your heels, the sound swallowed up by the band on the stage and the mingling voices floating on the air.

You knew the Lestrange's were wealthy, but this…

“Ah! There are my beautiful girls!” Your father appeared, Reinhard Lestrange on his left, Rabastan and Rodolpus flanking him like sentinels. “Don't you look lovely, darling.” Your father took your hands, bringing your knuckles to his lips, and you had to fight to control your expression. Your father never showed affection

Unconsciously, you glanced up at Rabastan. His eyes were trained on you, a pleased gleam lighting up his face, and you flushed. Reinhard seemed to notice the exchange, and looked at you with more interest.

“It's a pleasure to finally meet you,” he drawled, his voice having the same smooth cadence as his younger son. “Reinhard Lestrange.” He offered a hand, and you placed your fingers in his, and he brushed a kiss to your knuckles.

“It's an honor, sir,” you cooed despite your heart beating wildly in your chest, curtsying low.

A small smile ghosted his mouth, an echo of Rabastan's. “No wonder my son is so besotted, it's rare to meet such a competent young lady. Let alone one as striking as you.”

Besotted. You caught Rodolpus and Rabastan exchange a look, Rodolpus a teasing smirk, Rabastan a half-hearted glare.

“I only have my parents to thank for my nature, sir,” you said, and your parents beamed.

Reinhard chuckled. “So, what went wrong with your brother then?” Reinhard teased, surprising you with his sense of humor.

“Well, there's always one,” you shrugged, glancing at Rodolpus, and Reinhard burst out laughing.

Rabastan gave you a proud wink, and you bit your lip to stop from grinning. Rodolpus chuckled too, elbowing his brother, and you exhaled in relief. Maybe you could do this.

“Quite right, darling. Lucky Bella didn't hear that though, she's rip those pretty eyes right out.” Reinhard clapped Rodolpus on the shoulder. “Come, dinners about to begin.”

Rabastan swooped in as your party began to move, looping your arm through his. He looked wonderful, like one of those American movies stars, so dapper in his perfectly pressed black suit.

He leaned down towards you, keeping you close as you navigated the crowd. “Masterfully done, darling. I haven't seen my father laugh in weeks.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, waving at Evan and Regulus as you walked past them, their jaws a bit slack as they stared at you.

Rab cast them a warning glare, and they snapped their heads back to one another. “You look beautiful, though I doubt it needs to be said considering the trail of broken necks.”

“It's the dress, Rab. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever worn,” you said, looking up at him through dark lashes. “I'm so grateful.”

He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You'll have a closet full of the finest things, little doe.”

You reached the table and he pulled a chair out for you. You sat down, letting him slide you closer to he table before taking his seat beside you, to the right of his brother. Thorfinn sat beside your father, who was at Reinhards left. Your brother cast you an appraising glance, but turned his attention back to your father with barely an acknowledgement. Your heart deflated a bit.

Rabastan shook his head, frowning at the hurt tugging down the corners of your mouth. “And I thought my brother was an arse.”

“I resent that,” Rodolpus muttered, taking a sip of champagne. His wild-haired wife sat beside him, curled around his arm like a snake, her eyes meandering over your face.

Bellatrix Lestrange, once a Black. You could see the Black genes written all over her, from the bone structure to the haunting gray eyes. A jilted pang made you wince down at your plate.

How badly you wished Sirius was here. And he would be, you supposed, if Walburga and Orion Black weren't despicable wastes of oxygen.

You glanced down the table, finding them sitting with Regulus' between them, his eyes cast down at his plate while his parents talked over his head. From the movement of Walburgas mouth, you knew what they were talking about: Sirius.

Regulus felt your gaze and looked up, his eyes connecting with yours. His jaw feathered with tension, and thread of connection in spooling between you. He must see the hurt reflected in your eyes well.

You looked away.

Dinner dragged down for what felt like eons, tiny plate after tiny plate of priceless, exotic food, and endless flutes of champagne.

After dessert, Rabastan coaxed you out onto the dancefloor, where you waltzed and turned for another hour or so. But you couldn't get Regulus' expression out of your mind, couldn't shake the harrowing feeling it left behind.

We aren't supposed to be here, it screamed.

You'd never particularly enjoyed these parties, volleying with Sirius had always been your favorite part even if you'd never admit it. You felt his absence like a missing rib.

Had you ever missed Rabastan like that? Felt a moment was lacking, a meal was tasteless, a song was hollow, because Rabastan wasn't there to enjoy it with you?

The answer came with dizzying clarity: not even once.

But you felt it constantly with Sirius. Even at the wretched party, you so wished he could hear the sonorous band, or got to taste the bizarrely sweet squid patté just so you could exchange the same disgusted glance.

Everything felt brighter, lighter with Sirius.

But, the toll of the Lestrange clocktower sounded like a death knell. There was no going back.

You heart fractured, sending a wave of despair so intense, you stumbled over Rabastan’s foot.

He hauled you closer to his chest, steadying you. “Are you alright, darling?” He murmured, gently brushing your hair from your forehead. “Ready to sit for a spell?”

You nodded, allowing him to escort you towards a set of chairs in a quieter corner of the party. He flagged down a waiter to bring you a glass of water, and procured a fan from another.

“I have some business to discuss with my father, will you be alright on your own for a bit?” He asked, petting the top of your head.

“I'm alright, thank you, Rab,” you replied, taking a sip of water to try and force down the knot of emotion in your throat.

He kissed your cheek before disappearing into the crowd. You noticed your brother peel off from his place at the bar with some girl to follow him, and alarm bells sounded in the back of your mind.

You had a terrible, bone-deep feeling that the business they were discussing was you.

When you looked around, no one was paying you any mind. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and neither were the male Lestrange's.

This might be your only chance to find out what they had in store for you.

As quickly as you could without drawing attention, you made your way out of the party and up to your room, fanning yourself and hoping anyone that noticed you would simply think you were poorly and retiring to your room.

You ditched your heels and grabbed the invisibility cloak, wrapping around yourself. You watched yourself disappear in the mirror, and a thrill of excitement shot up your spine. Sirius' cologne still lingered on the fabric, and it brought you a bit of comfort.

After stuffing some pillows under your duvet, you slipped out of the room, invisible as a wraith, a closed the door softly behind you. You hurried down the halls of the massive manor, wracking your brain to remember the brief tour their house Rabastan gave you upon arrival. You turned down the hall you remembered him skipping over, the walls decorated with art too fine to be unimportant like he'd implied.

A few feet down the hall, you could hear your father's voice floating through a crack in the door.

“This is my daughter we're talking about, Lestrange,” he bit.

“What you're proposing is absurd, Rowle,” Reinhard replied, sounding almost bored. “Especially considering it seems she'd marry my son of her own volition.”

“Not without our permission, she wouldn't. And she will have no such blessing until the amount is paid in full.”

Your throat dried. What amount?

Rabastan chuckled, the sound low and patronizing. “You think she cares what you think, Thorfinn?”

“Of course she does,” your father snapped. “Don't pretend you know her, or care about her.”

Silence echoed around the hall, drawn to a razors edge. You shifted to peer into the room, finding Rabastan leaning against his father's desk, eyes dark with rage.

Thorfinn stepped between Rabastan and your father, and Rodolpus moved to stand beside his younger brother, looking decidedly more casual than the rest of them.

Rodolpus alone could mop the floor with your family, and they knew it.

“Care about her?” Rabastan growled. “Have you not come to my house to sell her like merchandise?”

“Rabastan,” Reinhard warned.

Rabastan pushed off the desk, prowling closer. “Merchandise, which, I feel inclined to mention, you damaged?”

Your stomach dropped, and Thorfinn blanched.

“What?” Your father hissed, turning to Thorfinn.

“Damaged how?” Reinhard asked, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.

Rabastan went quiet, letting Thorfinn sweat, before he shook his head. “Damaged metaphorically, of course,” he said, leaning back against the desk and Thorfinn sagged a bit in relief.

“Regardless, you ask too much, Rowle,” Reinhard continued, casting a warning glare at Rabastan.

“How much would a daughter of your own be worth, Reinhard?” Your mother asked, and you gasped. Your mother was never one to speak out of turn.

Reinhard’s expression darkened. “That's the difference between us, witch. I would never put a price on my child's head,” he snarled. “I've only agreed to be a part of this because my son insisted.”

You braced a hand on the wall, shock rocking through you. Not only were they trying to sell you, Rabastan wanted to buy you?

���Father—”

“Enough. I know you're soft on the girl, but—”

“Fine,” your father interrupted, making Reinhard grit his teeth. “Make it 15,000 galleons.”

You felt like you might be sick. How could you family do this to you? Thorfinn's words earlier echoed in your mind. The business is not going well. You may be our last hope.

You didn't realize he meant it so literally.

Reinhard looked at Rabastan. “Is she worth it, son?”

You couldn't stick around for his answer. You took off down the hall, bare feet slapping on the marble, tears streaming down your face.

An arranged marriage, one of mutual gain, was one thing, but to be sold? It made you sick. How could Rabastan agree to that? How could he touch you, kiss you, knowing that he was purchasing you like livestock? Had you ever had a choice? Would they drag you down the aisle in shackles?

You pushed your way through the party and out the grand front doors, flying down the steps. The ground was frigid and rough beneath your bare feet, but you ran anyways, leaving the shadow of Lestrange Manor far behind you.

You couldn't get back Hogwarts without the train, and there was only one other place you could think of to go.

In a sickening whirl of color, the spell spit you out on the stone steps of candlelit porch, framed with enchanted flowers that bloomed brightly despite the winter chill: Potter Manor.

You stared up at the front door, heart racing so fast you could barely breathe. There was no turning back from this.

You reached a hand up and knocked three times.

A few moments later, James pulled open the door, dressed like he was about to go to sleep. Fuck, you hadn't even considered how late it was.

“Y/n?” He asked, adjusting his glasses.

“I'm sorry, I—”

“Y/n?” Sirius pushed in front of James, eyes wide. He was shirtless, flannel sweatpants slung low. His smattering of archaic ink a stark contrast to his fair skin, and for a second you forgot what you were doing here. “Are you okay?” Sirius asked, ushering you into the foyer and closing the door. “Are you hurt?” He pushed the cloak from your shoulders, revealing the gown you were wearing, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“No, no. I—” a sob welled up, choking off your voice.

“Oh, darling, come here.” He bundled you into his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around your body while you cried into the curve of his neck, fists balled up against his abdomen. “Sh, sh, it's alright, love. I've got you,” he murmured into your hair, pressing kisses into the side of your head. “I've got you now.”

He held you a bit tighter, lifting you into a bridal holding, making you cry harder.

“What's going on?” You heard an unfamiliar man ask, and you clung tighter to Sirius, fear streaking through you.

“Shh, it's James' father. You're safe,” he whispered, carrying you across the house and depositing you onto a chaise in a sitting room.

Distantly, you could hear James explaining who you were in a hushed voice.

“I didn't know where else you go,” you sniffled, taking a stuttering inhale. “I'm sorry for barging in.”

“Nonsense,” he shushed you, crouching down in front of you and offering a handkerchief. “You're right where your meant to be.”

You dabbed your eyes and nose, smearing mascara all over the clean fabric and cringed.

“Can you tell me what happened, love?” He asked, brows furrowed with concern.

“They—he—” your voice splintered, another wave of panic and sobs dragging you under.

“Okay, you don't have to say anything.” He shifted to sit on the couch and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you trembled. You buried your face into his neck and let yourself cry, and cry, and cry.

All the stress and fear of the last few weeks bubbled up and poured out of you until you were gasping, hollowed out and raw.

Something shuffled in the room, and you suddenly remembered you were not alone. Sirius appeared to have the same realization, glancing over his shoulder at his friend and his parents.

You braced yourself for the barrage of questions, but instead you heard James’ mother murmur, “Would she like some tea?”

“Love?” Sirius asked, turning to you. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head, embarrassment scorching your cheeks. “M'okay, thank you Mrs. Potter,” you mumbled.

“Chamomile tea would be great, mama, thank you,” Sirius answered for you, a twinge of exasperated affection in his voice.

“’Course. Be back in a bit,” she said, her voice so gentle it brought tears to your eyes once again, and you heard three sets of slippers shuffle out.

“Look at me,” Sirius murmured, cradling your face and lifting your head from the crook of his shoulder. “I need to apologize for yesterday. I let my own feelings cloud my judgement and I—I’m so sorry if I frightened you.”

“It frightened me because it was true.” You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and small. “Because I wasn't ready to face it.”

“And now?” His gray eyes welled with something dangerously close to hope, and your heart gave a silly little flip.

For the first time, you didn't try to fight it. You just let the feeling bloom in your chest, warm and glittery, and you nodded into his neck, wrapping an arm around his middle.

“Now I know that I was building my life, myself, around a lie. None of it was real—” tears threatened to choke you again, but you fought them down. “How I feel about you is the only thing I know isn't stained by their lies. I know that it comes from me, the real me. And that’s why it scared me so much. They taught me not to trust myself…”

Sirius was quiet, eyes glossy with unshed tears, his thumb catching a stray tear as it rolled down your cheek.

You weren't sure if you were ready to give voice to what you heard, but you wanted to offer some kind of explanation for your sudden appearance. “I overheard something, and my instincts were screaming at me, and I just…I listened.”

“That's good, love. That was the right thing to do,” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles around your back. “And I'm glad you came here.”

James sauntered into the sitting room, tray in hand. “I was wondering where the cloak went,” he said, crouching down in front of you and handing you a mug of tea. “You alright, mate?”

Mate. The word made your broken heart glow.

“I thought you ran it by him?” You asked, quirking a brow at Sirius.

Sirius shrugged. “James is a loud mouth.”

“Hey!”

“I heard you tried to go toe to toe with my brother,” you said, providing further proof of Sirius' accusation.

“And I'd do it again,” James huffed. “I'll do it now, if you want. Where is he?”

“Not Thorfinn, unfortunately. But you can tangle with me, if you'd like.” A low voice filled the room, startling the three of you to your feet. Rabastan stood leaned against the doorway, twirling his wand in his fingers. “Trusting sort, the Potters. Let me right in.”

James bolted out of the room in search of his parents and Sirius withdrew his wand, tugging you behind him.

“What did you do?” Sirius growled, and Rab rolled his eyes.

“Nothing, cousin. Now, get your hands off of my girl.” Rab straightened to his full height, but Sirius didn't falter.

Fuck this. “I heard you,” you snapped, stepping out from behind Sirius and raising your own wand as you stalked towards him. “I heard you talking with my parents. You fucking bought me?”

Rabastan's smug smile dropped. “No, I--”

“What am I worth, Rabastan? 15,000 galleons? Twenty?” you hissed, jabbing your wand under his chin.

“You didn't stick around for my answer, darling?” He countered, taking a step forward, closing the gap between you. “I said you were worth the trip to Azkaban after I gutted your brother like a fucking fish.”

You blinked. “What—”

“We were never going to buy you,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Or at least, I wasn't. I would only have you if you wanted me in return.” His fingers came up to caress your cheek, and you flinched away, taking a step back. “I thought you wanted me too,” he whispered, hurt straining the edges of his voice.

“You've been lying to me,” you said, taking another step back. “I can't trust you, or any of them.”

Rab's jaw flexed, his chin dropping to his chest in shame. “I'm sorry, little doe—”

“Don't fucking call me that.”

He turned his head like you’d slapped him, his hand flexing around his wand, eyes squeezing shut. A part of your heart ached with guilt, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

James returned, wand raised. “You need to get out, Lestrange. Now,” he ordered.

“James, wait,” Sirius said, stepping forward and placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “So, you didn't go through with it?” The question was directed at Rab, who lifted his head to meet Sirius’ eyes.

“That’s why I came,” he said, looking back at you. “I called it off. All of it. But I need you to understand, you...you can’t go home.”

“What?” Panic closed like a fist around your throat.

“I’m sorry, darl—y/n.” He took a tentative step towards you, pocketing his wand. “When we discovered that you ran, your father—he disowned you.”

You sagged to the side, Sirius catching you around the waist. They disowned you. Cast you side like damaged goods. Like you were worthless to them now. “W-what?”

The room tilted around you again, your vision tunneling to a pinprick--

“Easy, love.” Sirius eased you back onto the chaise, cupping your face in an effort to keep you tethered to consciousness. “Take a breath for me, in—good girl—now breath out. Nice and long, that’s it.”

You followed his instructions, taking big, deep breaths until the darkness at the edge of your vision receded, your heart rate starting to slow.

“All they’ve done is set you free, doll,” Sirius said, smoothing your hair from your face. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Where will I go?” You sniffed, clutching at Sirius’ shirt. Over his shoulder, you saw pain flicker across Rabastan’s face, but he looked away, towards James.

“If I provide a stipend, would your family be able to house her? Since you Potter’s like stray’s so much?” He gestured to Sirius.

“It’s up to her,” Sirius interrupted, throwing his cousin a glare. “She can go where she wants.”

“You’re more than welcome,” James said, looking past the others towards you. “We’ve got plenty of room, no stipend required.” The last bit was directed at Rab, his voice turning barbed.

“The semester’s almost over,” Sirius added. “Could stay for the summer, than get your own place in London. If that's what you want to do.”

“And we’ll keep your brother far away, if needed,” Rabastan added. “I meant what I said. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Despite yourself, some of your resentment towards him loosened. He’d done the right thing in the end, and perhaps it wasn’t all a lie. This world had chewed you all up, one way or another, how much could you fault him for baring the scars of the monster that made him?

Those same scars nearly cost you everything. Everything being the man on his knees in front of you, the sincerest and most loyal person you'd ever known. The only person you ever trusted unconditionally and without restraint. He was everything you'd ever wanted, you'd just been to blinded by fear to see it.

“Thank you, Rab,” you murmured, and he dipped his chin. “And thank you, James,” you said, and he gave you two thumbs up. You took Sirius’ chin, turning his face to yours. “And you, Sirius, there aren’t enough ‘thank you’s’ in the world,” you whispered, and the smile he gave you was so lovesick, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“Don’t you dare thank me,” he said, taking your hand from his face and placing it over his heart, beating rhythmically in the center of his bare chest. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love. I’ll maim Lestrange’s pretty face right now if you want—”

“Fuck off, mutt—”

“That won’t be necessary,” you chuckled, leaning in to peck Sirius’ lips. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I suppose that’s my cue,” Rabastan said, adjusting his cuffs and looking everywhere but you and Sirius. “I’ll see you around the common room, then?”

“We’ll see—”

“Of course,” you placed a hand over Sirius’ mouth, silencing his attitude. He nibbled your palm in retaliation.

Rabastan dipped his chin in farewell and took his leave, glancing back at you a final time before stepping out into the quiet night.

You lowered your hand from Sirius’ mouth, giving him a phony scowl, and he bared his teeth, teasing you back.

“I’ll talk to my parents,” James said, rubbing the back of his head. “Sirius can show you to the empty guest room, though I suppose you won’t be using it—oi!” Sirius launched a pillow at James’ head, and he scampered away, disappearing down the hall.

Sirius turned his attention back to you, expression softening. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, holding your hands in his.

You nodded. “I’m okay…afraid, I suppose. But in a different way.” You traced the web of your fingers with your eyes, and brought your joined hands up to kiss across his scarred knuckles. “But Sirius, I’m not sure we should jump into anything quite yet.”

Sirius nodded, his eyes lingering on your lips. “We’ll go at your pace, whatever you want—so long as I can kiss you every six hours.”

You grinned, affection blooming like a burst of sunlight in your chest. “I think we can arrange that.” You leaned forward, pressing your tear-dampened lips to his, and for the first time, it didn’t hit you where it hurts the most, in your battered, bruised heart. It touched your soul instead, somewhere deeper, uncharted.

Somewhere new.

Thank you so much to everyone that read and supported this series! I'm so proud of it, and it was a joy to scream about it with you all 🫶

But don't worry, you haven't seen the last of Rabastan 😉

taglist: @lovelykat001, @carmenschemtrails, @lolalleins, @fangirl-swagg, @batboysanonymous, @watchmerora, @iheartnostalgia, @simars3, @elizabethblood9, @unstable-cucumber, @holholliday, @itisjustwhatitis

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[targaryenluvs]

Can you make a fic with a dark coriolanus x reader

Post Lucy running away where he stays a peace keeper for some time and he helped reader avoid being picked for the games and he abuses his power as peace keeper against reader whom he helped and holds it over her head (she has no family but her friends are like family) and he does all types of fucked up stuff to her sexually and he fetishizes her for being a woc (reader is a woman of color) and he fetishizes her skin or something and he keeps saying all creepy stuff and he then marries her (after convincing her no one would want her after him) and parades her around and shows off to capitol ppl who also fetishize her and she becomes basically his property with a creepy nickname and you pick the ending

BROWN JEWEL

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!poc!reader

summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

warnings: obsession, abuse of power, nc touching, threats, forced marriage, fetishisation of skin color?? non-con (p in v), public sex, pregnancy, forced marriage, jealousy of infants? kisses, kinda stockholm/reader gives in

wordcount: 3.1k

a/n: audibly gasped reading this rq (i did change it around a bit since some of it i was unsure of how to write and if i felt comfy doing it) i went off track for sure

this was your last year for being involved with the reaping.

just tomorrow then you'd be in the clear for the rest of your life.

you had friends who relied on you, and their families which were practically your own. you’d been raised with them after your parents passed and you owed them your life. you were an amazing hunter and your game kept them going. you were skilled with hunting, medicine, literate because of your best friends mother. you helped them all in so many ways and you knew they needed you.

through your older years, you began to realise you weren’t exactly the same as your friends. their light skin and light eyes in contrast to your darker tones were always a reminder of your unshared bloodline. yet they never treated you any differently.

you had to live for them.

so it was how you ended up in the tree line by the peacekeepers barracks. hoping to bribe one into pulling your name from the bowl before it was placed infront of the justice building. what you didn’t expect was for a soldier to find you first.

“what’re you doing here?” he spoke from behind you as you stumbled to get up. “i... i wanted to talk to someone, to try and uhm, get them to do something for me.” he exuded confidence with his chin in the air and his grip on his gun. he obviously thought he was better than you. “what do you want me to do for you?” you sighed, “i was hoping, to get my name taken out of the reaping bowl.” he tilted his head, a smirk on his face and you wanted to peel your skin off with the way he was looking at you.

“come closer.” and you did, stepping into the moonlight. he found you to be gorgeous, glowing. “i’ll do it.” your eyes widened as you smiled, “thank you!” and he took a step closer to you, “but what will i get in return?”

and that’s when you should’ve run for the hills.

at the reaping ceremony, he coincidentally placed himself right next to your row. his stares were harsh on your back. your hands were sweating and you couldn’t think straight until that name was called, and it wasn’t yours.

“we’re safe.” your friend whispered into your ear as you smiled at her, “yeah, we are.” but for some reason you weren’t convinced. the peacekeeper was on you like a shadow ever since the day before. on the walk home he was following you and you knew it, but if you confronted him you had no clue what he’d do to you. so you felt it best to keep your head down, and get home. you didn’t expect for him to barge his way in.

“what’re you doing?” your voice was shaky and you could feel the perspiration on you, for someone reason this man made your body go haywire and you wanted to leave. “why? can’t i come see the pretty girl i saved?” your head was facing downwards as you began to mumble, “my names only in eight times, my odds were low anyways. a lot of people took tessera.” you heard him click his tongue, tutting and shaking his head in disagreement, “seven.”

he was right infront of you now, and as he bent down to whisper in your ear, you froze up, “i don’t do things for free y/n. when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect.” he held your face in his hand as you asked, “what’s your name?” he smiled, “coriolanus, but you can call me corio.” and he held you to it.

every time you saw him he’d be unbelievably smug.

even your friends noticed, “he keeps staring at you, that peacekeeper.” you were having a night out, your senses flooded with music and laughter. but not too far away was coriolanus, downing his beer. you shifted around before slyly looking his way. “it’s probably nothing. you know how these peacekeepers are. i think i’m going to head home.” you kissed her cheek before making your way out and to your home.

you were only a few minutes away when you took notice of the shadow behind you, lurking. “y/n.” you stopped in your tracks and turned his way. “corio.” he grinned at the nickname you used. his expression should've warned you, his words rung through your mind.

an intoxicated man was a dangerous one.

"when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect."

corio held you against the shabby wall as his hands held you in place. your pants swamped at your ankles as he rutted into you harshly. “stay quiet for me yeah?” your hands shoved at his chest but it seemed to be pointless.

“please, please corio not here.” coriolanus couldn’t bring himself to listen to you, and he sure as hell didn’t care if someone saw. what were they going to do? you were his, you needed to realise that. the quicker you did the easier it would be for you. your cries and protests went in one ear and out the other, “shh, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he cooed, ignoring your pleas.

you felt humiliated, treated like trash. taken in an alleyway like a whore, as coriolanus continued on. your legs felt like jelly and your weight rested on the wall behind. his hands came up to lower your shirt, your breasts spilling out. “fuck, you’re made for me. all mine.” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

“come for me baby. come on.” you didn’t want to, you wanted to run away from him but your breath was laboured as your head lolled back. but even with that he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more. he wanted all of you and he wouldn’t stop until he’d had enough. you weren’t sure if he’d ever get his fill.

your cheeks burned as you walked back to your home, cum-stained panties and shame filling you to the brim. acquaintances walked past, you smiled and waved with fake kindness. your feet dragged along, your legs shaky and hands trembling. you wanted to drag the walk out as long as possible.

coriolanus could tell, but he couldn’t do anything yet. so he grit his teeth and walked with determination.

he’d punish you later.

and it was all you knew. almost every night corio crawled into your home, took you all over the house till dawn. and in return you were able to provide your family with everything they could want.

dana has a cold?

the medicine was at the front door hours later.

peter hurt himself at the mines?

a first aid kit was ready to be picked up by noon.

not a single person around you was hungry, sick or uncared for. all thanks to coriolanus. your friends were able to infer where all your resources came from, but you’d never asked for their aid.

you just wanted to help them, in any way you could.

what you didn’t anticipate was coriolanus in your home, tossing your nicest clothes into a suitcase. the jewellery he’d bought, shoes etc. “what’s going on? why are you packing my things?” he didn’t respond, he just kept packing, moving around the room and throwing in things he deemed important.

“we’re leaving, back to the capitol. you’re coming with me, now help me pack.” you grabbed his wrist in a moment of anger, forgetting your place. “let. go. now.” he demanded as you retracted your hand, “i’m sorry. but, you need to talk to me. i’m not going to the capitol corio, this is my home.” you should’ve known he was going to hate your words.

he grabbed your wrists, fingers digging in as you cried out in pain. “you are coming with me, otherwise i am more than happy to hurt you. all the supplies for your friends? gone. you know i won’t hesitate to hurt them. so if you want them to be taken care of, you’ll listen to me. now pack your things and shut up.” he spit out as you pulled away from him.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

the capitol scared you to no extent. the prying eyes, the excessive, almost wasteful, wealth and resources. you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. the people of panem viewed you to be a rare phenomenon. as if darker skin was unattainable. it was nothing like district 12, and you knew you’d never fully fit in. but corio wouldn’t let that be.

coriolanus thrived under dr gaul. overtime he’d been provided with an apartment and inheritance courtesy of the plinths and he was happy to indulge his sweet girl with whatever she could wish for.

the most expensive silks, finest jewels. you felt like a little porcelain doll, with multiple faces. you were bound to crack.

by the time coriolanus snow rose to be the president of panem, all the fight in your body was a distant memory, a shell of your former self. "you have everything you could ever wish for," according to your husband, "but you still think of them." his words were filled with disdain but held an ounce of truth.

your heart yearned for home. for peters terrible cooking. for dana’s flower crowns. nights out with your friends singing your heart out before sneaking out to the lake a certain covey had let slip on. a simple life.

but it all felt to be out of your grasp, far in the back of your mind.

presidential campaigns, parties, shopping, and super rich kids with nothing but fake friends. it was all your new normal. the residents of panem tolerated you for being the first lady of panem, admired you for your looks, and despised you for your background.

you’d never felt more alone.

you found solace in your children. ciron, your baby boy. only five years old but undeniably bright. he was ahead of most children his age in studies, able to remember so much in such a small mind. he was the spitting image of coriolanus. the old coriolanus. curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes. but his kindness, his care for others? that was all his mother. he was the perfect mix, and a huge mommy’s boy. the second he learned something knew he rambled on about it, only to you. he loved to play with your hair, curling it around his fingers.

“now we match mommy!” he smiled as you picked him up, resting him on your hip. “now i’m almost as pretty as you baby.” you teased as you attacked him with kisses on his face. he squirmed in your arms, small hands coming to cover his face. the noise seemed to wake caroline, her squeals and cries echoing through the home.

“shh, we have to be quiet okay?” ciron nodded as the two of you made your way to her nursery. it was caroline’s first birthday today, and coriolanus had spared no expense on your account. the celebration was to be held at your home, filled with people who couldn’t care less. but you just wanted to give her what you never had. a party at the presidents house was rare, and a lot of the hadn’t seen you in a while.

caroline was all you. darker skin than ciron, olive like. brown eyes and dark hair.

during your pregnancy with ciron, coriolanus showed you off to the people. you were regularly seen out and about, at parties, shopping, walking etc. coriolanus took any opportunity to parade you about to the people of panem. something out of their reach but so sweet, so beautiful. you despised it, being seen as nothing more than his property.

“she’s a fine girl you have coriolanus.” grandma’am spoke as she pinched your cheeks, “just have to take the district out of her.” as if you were an animal to be dissected.

“are there any more of her type?” the man joked as coriolanus’s hand tightened on your waist.

you’d always loved yourself, your hair, your skin color, your body. but it all seemed to be under coriolanus’s ownership the second you’d allowed him to take you to the captiol. no one cared about you. no one bothered to help. they just admired and touched when they could.

so you’d plead with him, begging him to let you rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. he surprisingly agreed, letting you confine yourself to your shared room.

and with cirons birth, you felt hope. his wide eyes, consuming all he could with his sight, his tiny fingers wrapping around your finger. your heart swelled with joy at his face, your saving grace.

coriolanus wanted to pry him from your fingers. for the next few weeks your attention was purely on the boy and coriolanus began to feel neglected. he was already traumatised from his own mothers passing, his sister taking her life. with the announcement of your own pregnancy the thoughts poured in.

would the baby take you too?

would he be forced to listen to your screams?

would he have to raise the baby he despised?

he hadn’t even met your child yet and he'd already made his mind up. the baby was no good, an heir was needed of course but at the cost of his wife? would he pay the price?

your screams of agony and pain clawed at his throat. he felt sick, bile rising as he forced it down. coriolanus would not be seen as weak. but he couldn’t help himself, your hands clutched onto his as a lifeline. your pleas for aid, and coriolanus could do nothing. helpless.

the finest doctors in panem, machinery and medicine yet it all seemed useless.

to you it was worth it, the second you held him in your arms. all the pain in the world if it meant you’d have him as the outcome. one of the nurses placed a pair of scissors in his hands, urging him to cut the cord as coriolanus masked his disgust.

snip!

tigris cooed over the baby as lethargy hung over you like a cloud. “isn’t he the sweetest coriolanus?” all he managed was a nod, his focus on you.

his strong wife, who’d given way to new life. your eyes were fluttering close as you murmured, “ciron.” the doctors and nurses gleefully agreed, “what a fine name!” the head doctor announced as he held him in his arms, a nurse taking him away to be cleaned.

and after all that, you were pregnant once more. another child for the happy family but another nuisance in his eyes between yourself and him.

all you ever cared about was the kids.

“has caroline eaten?”

“is ciron awake?”

“is his teacher here yet?”

“coriolanus, i think we need to take ciron shopping again. he’s growing so quickly!” he knew he should’ve been happy. but all he wanted was for you to be his again. you were always too tired for him, already asleep with ciron by your side, taking his place.

or you were breastfeeding caroline, meaning that he was sure he wasn’t going to get to feel you up that night. too sore, too tired, not in the mood. he couldn’t catch a break.

-

you’d decided to have caroline and ciron match. baby blue, how sweet!

it’d only been about an hour in and you’d had enough. these people never really moved on. the same comments about how special you were, how lucky you were. compliments stuffed down your throat you were sure you’d gag.

you grounded yourself with caroline, clutching onto her as coriolanus made the rounds. “anna!” you shouted out to one of your servers. “yes, mrs snow?” you refrained from rolling your eyes at the last name, “bring the cake out, now please.” she wasn’t sure, “mr snow said-” you smiled at her, “caroline’s getting fussy, better if we blow the candles out now so i can feed her and get her to bed.” she scurried away to get everything in order as coriolanus found you.

“sweetheart. you can’t hide the birthday girl at her party.” you chuckled, “i know, i know. she’s getting tired, we’re going to have to get the candles out early. cirons already sleepy too, he worked really hard today. i’m so proud of him.” you beamed as coriolanus took a sip from his glass, “oh did he?” he sneered. you were about to reply but the cake being carried out took your attention. “look sweetie! it’s your cake!” caroline lifted her head from your shoulder as you pointed at it.

“come on corio.” he downed his drink before following along. maybe if he was nice you’d fuck him tonight.

the four of you were a picture perfect family, cameras shuttered as everyone sang for caroline. she rested on your side as ciron stood in front of coriolanus, his hands resting on his sons shoulders. a smile plastered on his face. “happy birthday to you!” you bent down with caroline to blow the candles out as everyone cheered.

for once, you felt happy.

you sat infront of caroline’s crib, rocking it side to side. it was around 12 now, the party packed up, ciron in bed sleeping soundly, and coriolanus in his study. it’d been a while since you and coriolanus had been together. your pregnancy with caroline was risky according to doctors and you were told to take it easy. it’d been at least two months since his last time with you, and god he needed release.

once you figured she was asleep you made your way to corios study. “corio? you busy?” you peaked your head through the door to find corio writing away. “come in.” you closed the door behind you as he rolled back in his seat, patting his lap as you plopped down.

“you want something?” you rested your head in the crook of neck, roses infiltrating your senses. “m’ tired, wanna sleep with you.” coriolanus was taken aback for once, in his eyes you’d deprived him of your presence for so long and here you were wanting for him. coriolanus would have to settle for now. he caressed your cheek, “alright, come on.” his arm lifted your legs and you interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

over your time with coriolanus you’d learned to like things about him, since there was no point in you hating him anymore. his voice in the night, whispering to you. his soft hands washing your hair. when he was relaxed, the two of you would bask in eachothers presence, reading silently. baths together, his hands raking through your hair, trailing over your body with care. and as the two of you slept together, in a tight embrace, coriolanus felt at ease.

his brown jewel, all to himself.

[jessiemoonsims]

Koschei the Deathless

poses by @helgatisha crown by @plazasims hair 1 hair 2 by @hezeh skin by @northernsiberiawinds lips 35 by @ddarkstonee eyes by @obscurus-sims nails by @remussirion brow by @goppolsme outfit by @plazasims coat by @bluerose-sims shirt by @becky-sims earings by @aithsims4 magic ball and pose by @natalia-auditore Lord outfit by @lady-moriel Thanks to all creators! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

Koshchei the Deathless is the keeper of secrets, immortality, and magic, whose name has become a symbol of eternity. His life is hidden in a needle, securely concealed behind countless barriers. For ages, he resided in his cold tower, surrounded by mountains of gold and the silence of centuries.

Koshchei adores caves, glittering gemstones, and dragons. He is intelligent, sarcastic, and somewhat grim, but beneath this exterior lies a deep sorrow born of eternal solitude.

A great collector, Koshchei has devoted his existence to gathering and preserving everything beautiful: from works of art to the rarest gemstones. Vasilisa the Wise was meant to be the crown jewel of his collection, the pinnacle of all he cherished. But she fled, failing to appreciate his desire to surround her with eternal beauty, leaving him alone amidst his immeasurable riches.

A bit of lore of the character:

Koshchei does not age because he is not bound by the ordinary laws of nature. What does not change cannot die. He exists as an eternal phenomenon, untouched by life or death. On one hand, he is a metaphysical entity, akin to the very concept of immortality — something that simply "is," without beginning or end. On the other hand, he has a personality, feelings, and attachments, making him vulnerable in a profoundly human way despite his supernatural essence.