#The way I would DIE if i were in the same room as amethyst and Rose. BECAUSE OF LESBIANISM. They are so my type its insane WHO SAID THAT-

[heuffopla]

Purple rock of my dreamssss

[cantstoplovingjude]

Underneath the Black Veil: Jude Jazza Ch.2

This is from Ikemen Villains EN, Cybird owns everything.

The followers escorted us to the room where we would stay.

Kate: "What in the world was that all about?!"

I hissed quietly to Jude so the others couldn't hear me.

Jude: "What? Dontcha think this is the best way?"

Jude: "Ya should be down on your knees thankin' me that we don't gotta do more!"

Kate: "Well, that is true... All right, thank you."

Jude: "Welcome. Now do your best to be a masochistic lil pervert. I know ya got it in ya."

(Well, I'm glad ONE of us seems to be enjoying this.)

Jude laughed when I reluctantly thanked him, then turned his cold gaze out the window.

Jude: "All this hogwash 'bout love 'n vows is creepin' me out. Just wanna get this damn mission over 'n done with."

I followed his gaze and saw a sunny courtyard out the window.

There were several couples out there, smiling adoringly at each other.

(They look so happy...)

Kate: "They've all come here because they want to find a love that can last forever."

Kate: "If he really did kill innocent people like that, I can't forgive him."

Jude: "Hah. Listen to that sense of integrity."

Jude: "Can't believe ya actually feel sorry for people who think someone else has the power to make their love eternal."

Kate: "I'm sure lots of people don't actually believe that their love will last forever just because they exchange vows and have a ceremony in a church."

Kate: "But what's important is that they tell each other they intend to keep those vows."

Kate: "And when they think they might break their vows, they'll remember that day when they swore to each other."

Kate: "And maybe that'll keep them going to try to find a solution."

Jude: "Tch. What a load of naive rubbish."

Jude: "People who break vows'll break 'em, and those who can keep 'em will keep 'em till the day they die."

Jude: "That's just how it is."

Just then, someone knocked on our door and two followers appeared.

Follower: "We're going to show you around the facility. Come on."

I followed Jude out into the hallway, when suddenly-

Kate: "Whoa!"

My foot caught on something, and I took a nasty fall.

Kate: "Oww..."

(It almost felt like something tripped me...)

I turned around and saw all the followers looking on in surprise.

Jude: "Damn, ya even like lickin' the ground? Nasty lil bird."

Kate: "That's..."

Follower: "Your fiancée tripped and you didn't even attempt to catch her, nor do you seem worried about her injury?"

Follower: "You must not love her at all."

Jude: "Like I said, she gets off on pain. Right?"

(He is a real piece of work...)

Jude: "Aw, look at that grumpy face. Lemme get a better look at it."

(Isn't it a bit unfair that he's the only one who doesn't have to act?)

I shot him a glare, which only made him grin more, so I just gave up and stood up.

(I wonder what my foot caught on, anyway? Wait a minute...)

(Did one of the followers trip me to make me fall on purpose?)

I slowly looked over at Jude.

Jude: "...Hm."

His amethyst eyes were coldly staring at a follower behind me.

And I just knew he was thinking the same thing.

(If they'll do something like this to test our love...)

(I'm sure they won't stop.)

==========

Kate: "Eeeek!"

And my prediction was correct.

The followers left and the two of us were eating alone.

However, the waiter's hands "slipped" and he ended up pouring water all over my head.

Waiter: "I'm terribly sorry, Miss Kate. Here's a towel."

Kate: "...Thank you."

(Ugh, my blouse is sticking to me. What a gross feeling.)

Jude: "Lookin' good over there."

Jude, who loved to "exploit me", was in high spirits.

(This cult and Jude are both the worst...)

I glared at him with pointed malice. But then-

Jude: "..."

Another waiter who was serving Jude stumbled.

And this time, he spilled the water on Jude.

(Uh-oh...)

Jude: "Hah..."

We both fell completely silent. The only sounds were that of the glass rolling on the floor and the water dripping from Jude's hair.

(That guy's got a lot of guts, spilling water on someone like Jude...)

Waiter: "O-oh, no! I'm terribly sorry!"

I held my breath to see if Jude was going to get angry from this forced apology.

However, he surprised me when he just smiled arrogantly.

Jude: "Not a problem. Ya didn't do it on purpose, didja?"

Jude: "Everyone makes mistakes."

Waiter: "Th-thank you...?"

The waiter was taken aback by Jude's eerie calmness and took a step backwards.

Jude: "What's your name?"

Waiter: "Pardon?"

Jude: "Your name. Don't wanna tell me? Eh, guess that's fine."

Jude:" Next time we meet, my hands might slip too. So you'll hafta forgive me then."

Waiter: "Eeeek! I'm so s-sorry!"

The waiter shrieked and apology and rushed out of the room.

(Poor thing.)

I clasped my hands in front of me and said a silent prayer for him.

(Anyway...)

Kate: "How are we supposed to prove our love like this?"

Both of us were soaking wet now. Jude looked at me and snorted.

Jude: "They're probably hopin' somethin' sexy happens."

Kate: "What?!"

I stared at him in disbelief.

Jude: "They wanna talk 'bout true love 'n all that rubbish, but in the end they got no choice but to see physical proof. Nasty lot."

The sight of Jude raking a hand through his dripping wet hair made my heart skip a beat for a moment.

(Wow, he looks... Wait-- what am I even thinking??)

Jude: "Hah. Damn, doesn't take much to get ya in the mood, does it?"

Kate: "N-no! It's because you brought it up...!"

My eyes darted around, because it was true that my heart was racing.

I quickly turned away, but he leaned in closer.

Jude: "I need ya to throw a fit 'cuz you're just so... damn...frustrated. Ya get what I mean, yeah?"

His breath tickled my ear, making my shoulders tremble.

He was so close that droplets dripped off his hair and soaked further into my wet shirt.

Jude: "...Ya really are the type who gets turned on by bein' bullied, aren't ya?"

Kate: "I am not!"

Jude: "Oh yeah? Then why're ya blushin' so much?"

He blew teasingly into my ear.

Shame, confusion, and some other hot feeling ran through me, sending shivers down my spine.

Jude: "Heh. Seems like ya got potential, princess."

Follower: "...Ahem!"

Kate: "O-ohh!"

I heard someone deliberately clearing their throat, and I realized some followers were standing in the doorway.

Follower: "Excuse me, but we'll be moving onto the final test now."

Kate: "Huh?"

Jude: "It's 'bout time."

(Does that mean we passed the preliminary test...?)

(... Is this what Jude was aiming tor the whole time?)

I glanced over at him and saw a cocky grin on his face.

Jude: "Now that was worth it, since I got to see that nasty lil look on your face."

Kate: "I-It was nothing of the sort!"

==========

Follower: "The final test is choosing the wedding dress."

(Wow...)

There were wedding dresses of all types and colors hanging up.

(They're all gorgeous...)

But what particularly caught my eye was a jet-black wedding dress.

It really stood out compared to the pure white dresses.

(And if Jude is the groom, I think black is the most fitting color.)

I imagined wearing that dress standing next to Jude at the altar, and once again felt my heart pounding.

(Wh-what, why...?)

My heart was racing so wildly it surprised me.

(Maybe I'm just getting nervous. After all, the wedding ceremony will be dangerous. That's it, I'm sure.)

Even though it wasn't a real wedding, I could vividly imagine getting married to Jude.

Just thinking about it, my pulse raced and another flush spread through my body.

Follower: "The bride should take the number of the dress she likes. Do not show it to anyone."

Kate: "All right."

I took the number thirteen from the basket.

Follower: "Now, it's the groom's turn to guess which dress the bride chose."

(Oh, now I see how this is a test.)

Follower: "You may not look at the card or send any signals to each other."

Follower: "If you truly are in love, the groom should know what his bride wants."

(Oh, no...)

A cold sweat ran down my spine.

(There's no way Jude will be able to know this!)

Jude: "This one."

(...Wow.)

He pointed to the jet-black dress without hesitation.

Follower: "Bride, please reveal your card."

I turned over the card that had the number thirteen written on it.

Kate: "How did you know..."

Jude :"Ya know, power of love 'n all that."

His smile was dripping with sarcasm.

(He must've seen me staring at it or read my facial expressions or something.)

I tried to reason with myself before I got any strange ideas in my head.

Jude: "So? Did we pass or what?"

Follower: "You have passed. You will take a vow of eternal love in front of the leader."

Follower: "Would you like to have the ceremony tomorrow, or..."

Jude: "Tonight."

Jude: "That's fine, right? Tonight."

Jude: "She won't be able to hold out till the morning."

End ch.2

[morsmortish]

Hi! How are you? Hopefully good.

I’m not sure if I’ve already asked this but I need your thoughts of Sybill.

I see her as clean and orderly, elegant. Wanting everything to be perfect. But then she found out about astrology and her entire view on life changed. The idea that something like positions could predict the future? She fell in love. She needed to know everything, she started to depend on it. Depend on the magic she read in the books, depend on the planets, the moon. Her entire life went out of her hands.

And it changed her. She blamed the sky for things that were her fault, she got frustrated easily, she got so confused at everything and always felt lost. But then she found comfort in it. She found comfort in the fact she didn’t have to be alone. There were stars to guide her out of wherever she was.Crystals to change herself, to make herself better. She took advantage of everything she could. Of cards, and games, and she got everything she could.Her house was lit up in candles, chains hanging, amethyst over her desks and sage burning in every room. Half of which she didn’t even know what it did. but she had the need to learn. So she did.

She sacrificed her sanity to learn everything. To learn every star and its name, to learn every position, what every tea leaf meant. She didn’t care that people called her crazy. She didn’t care that people were scared of her. She didn’t care that her style went more eccentric, that she stopped taking care of her hair, that she stopped taking care of herself. And along the way she completely lost herself. I headcanon that Pandora and her were friends but then Pandora started to realize just how obsessed Sybill was and started backing away. My ship name for them being mythology. But I also read this amazing fic with Barty/Sybill/Peter and I can’t see it but at the same time. I can.

they’d bond over weed. Barty would use it for fun, Sybil would for anxiety and readings, and Peter is a total stoner. (He’s had everything and I will die on that hill.) Sybill, and Barty are both crazy enough that it could work, that Barty is crazy to believe her theories, and Peter brings them into reality. But I can’t ever really seeing it by the way I imagine them. So I don’t know. Anyway I went off track

My young fan cast is Anya Taylor-Joy ; old is Emma Thompson

this. -> this.

gosh i don’t even really know what to add to this. first off- the anya taylor joy fc is really great!!! perhaps the idea of sybill caring less and less about her hair as she grows older hence the emma thompson style.

i also love your take on her growing reliance on astrology!!! and her desperation to find other ‘causes’ for things that go wrong…wow. it’s so cool when these pseudoscientific practises are viewed as more dangerous and less…happy-go-lucky. ↤ same goes for when sybill and pandora and xeno are all more vicious and ‘crazy’ and not easygoing hippies or whatnot.

honestly, i love the idea of sybill, peter and barty all bonding over weed, but i find it hard to see them as a ship. to me, i feel like sybill would treat barty too well- she’s treat him like too much of a person, offer too much human decency. barty MUCH prefers being an object to people. however, a barty, sybill, peter, xeno, pandora smoking circle? yes pls. and them all lying on their backs, stoned out of their minds, as pandora and sybill eagerly explain what all their theories mean whilst the boys all nod their heads and hum in agreement. YES. PLS.

“she sacrificed her sanity to learn everything.” THIS. this is the highlight of the whole ask. this is all one needs to say about sybill trelawney. ↤ destroyed by her own thirst for knowledge.

[archiveikemen]

"Black Wedding" Story Event: Chapter 2

Jude's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

The cultist led us to the room we would be staying in throughout our stay.

Kate: W-What was that just now…

I asked Jude in a low voice so that the cultist couldn't hear me.

Jude: What? That was the best method.

Jude: You should be grateful we didn't have to waste our time acting all lovey dovey.

Kate: That’s… true. … Thank you.

Jude: You’re welcome. Good luck with being a masochistic pervert.

(Ggh…)

Jude mocked my reluctant expression of gratitude and turned to look coldly out of the window.

Jude: This whole vows of love thing sickens me. I’ll have this mission ended as soon as possible.

Following Jude’s line of sight, I looked at the sunny courtyard outside the window.

It appeared that there were a few couples staying in the premises as well, and they were all smiling at each other.

(... They look so blissful.)

Kate: All of them are here because they love each other so much that they want their love to last for an eternity.

Kate: If couples are really being murdered… I will never forgive the culprit.

Jude: Hah, amazing sense of justice you’ve got there.

Jude: I can’t believe you sympathise with those people who think love and vows can be made to last forever by the power of some guy.

Kate: I don’t believe that love will magically last an eternity just by holding a ceremony, making promises to a superior being, and reciting vows to the people around us.

Kate: But… I think that’s why people make promises to each other.

Kate: Whenever they feel like they might break the promise, as long as they still have the memory of them making that promise together, they’ll gain the courage to keep going and not give up.

Jude: Hah… how beautiful.

Jude: Those who break promises, break them. And those who don’t break promises, they’ll never be able to break them even if they die.

Jude: That’s the way things are.

Just then, there was a knock on our door, and two laymen showed up.

Cultist: I’ll show the two of you around the interior of the establishment. This way.

…

The cultist demanded that Jude and I follow him into the hallway, and so we did.

Kate: Wah!?

My leg got caught onto something, causing me to fall instantly.

Kate: Ouch… it hurts…

(I think my leg got stuck on something.)

When I looked back, all I saw was the cultist standing there, looking surprised.

Jude: Do you like the floor that much? Get up.

Kate: Wha…

Cultist: Your girlfriend fell, and yet you didn't try to catch her or at least be concerned about her…

Cultist: Are you two not truly in love, as we expected…?

Jude: She loves pain. Right?

(Ugh…!)

Jude: I like that frustrated look on your face. Can I see more?

(It’s quite unfair that he’s the only one who doesn't have to put up an act, no…?)

His grin widened when I looked up at him, so I surrendered and got back onto my feet.

(I wonder what was it that my leg caught onto… no way.)

(Did one of the cultist trip me on purpose?)

I glanced at Jude.

Jude: …

Eyes resembling a pair of amethysts stared coldly at the cultist behind me.

It confirmed that Jude was thinking the same thing I was.

(If they're doing this to ascertain that we “love” each other…)

(They’ll definitely do it again.)

…

Kate: Cold!

My hunch was correct.

We were eating alone while the cultist was away.

The waiter’s hand “slipped” and I had water dumped onto my head.

Waiter: Oh, my apologies, Miss Kate. Please, have a towel.

Kate: … Thanks.

(Ugh… my wet shirt clinging to my body is making me uncomfortable.)

Jude: Hah, nice figure you’ve got.

Mister Jude “I enjoy exposing her uncouth side to the public” Jazza laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

(Both this organisation and Jude… they're the worst of the worst.)

Right when I was brimming with resentment towards him—

Jude: …

Another waiter who was serving Jude tripped, and the water in the glass he was carrying fell onto Jude.

(What the…)

The only sounds that could be heard in the pin drop silence were the glass rolling on the floor and the water dripping from Jude’s hair.

(You need to have guts of steel to splash water onto Jude like that…)

Waiter: Goodness gracious! I'm so sorry!

I held my breath as I watched to see if Jude would lose his temper at the waiter’s very obviously forced apology.

However, unlike what I had expected, Jude gave the waiter a magnanimous smile.

Jude: … It's fine. Moreover, it’s not as if you did it on purpose, right?

Jude: Having something slip out of their hands by accident is a mistake everyone makes.

Waiter: T-Thank you…?

The waiter backed away, perhaps getting uneasy because of how calm Jude was.

Jude: … What’s your name?

Waiter: Uh.

Jude: Your name. Tell me. … Nevermind.

Jude: My hands might slip the next time we meet… forgive me when the time comes, yeah?

Wait: … I-I’m truly sorry!!

The waiter gave an apology that sounded more like a shirek and scrambled out of the room.

(... Poor guy.)

I clenched my fist over my heart as I watched him leave.

(Even so…)

Kate: … In what way is this supposed to ascertain our love?

When I was puzzled by the inexplicable situation we were in, Jude snickered.

Jude: They were expecting something erotic to happen.

Kate: What…

I stared at the man sitting next to me, startled.

Jude: All that talk about love and some other beautiful things, but at the end of the day people are merely hypocritical beings that follow what their body wants.

The sight of Jude cussing with his hair dripping wet made my heart race in an instant.

(...? What am I thinking—)

Jude: What’s with that stupidly honest and lewd face?

Kate: That's not… it’s because of the weird things you said…

It was true that my heart leapt for an instant and my eyes shifted about.

When I looked away, Jude closed up the distance between us.

Jude: Feeling frustrated because you’re horny?

Kate: …

I shuddered when I felt his breath against my ear.

Jude: … Are you really the type of woman to get turned on when being cursed at?

Kate: No…

Jude: You denied it, and yet you’re turning red.

The shame, chaos, and something else he made me feel with his mocking sent a shiver down my spine.

Jude: Hah… you’ve got the potential.

Cultist: … Ahem!

Kate: …!?

I suddenly heard someone clear their throat, and turned to see the cultist standing in the doorway.

Cultist: Um—... you are allowed to move on to the final check. This way.

Kate: Huh?

Jude: Thanks a lot.

(You’re saying that even our bickering got us some approval?)

(By any chance, is this what Jude was trying to incite…?)

I gingerly looked at him and sure enough, he had a haughty sneer on his face.

Jude: Isn’t this a good thing? Worth showing your sultry visage for.

Kate: I did NOT show anything…!

…

Cultist: The final check is to pick a dress.

(Wow…)

The room was filled with colourful dresses, I was spoiled for choice.

(Woah, every one of them looks amazing…)

A jet black wedding dress caught my eye.

It stood out amongst the white dresses…

(Considering that Jude is my groom… I think this black dress would be the most fitting.)

My heart suddenly started pounding ridiculously loudly the moment I imagined myself in that dress and standing by Jude’s side.

(W-What…?)

My heart was pounding so loudly but even I didn't know why.

(Maybe I’m just nervous… something dangerous might happen during the wedding ceremony. Yes, I’m sure of that.)

I found it absurd that I was getting nervous upon imagining myself having a wedding ceremony with Jude, even though it was only for a mission.

Cultist: The bride will take the card with the number that represents her chosen dress. The card must not be shown to anyone.

Kate: … I understand.

From the basket held out to me by the cultist, I took the card labelled “13” that represented the black dress.

Cultist: And now, the groom shall guess which one the bride chose.

(Huh.)

Cultist: You are not allowed to peek at the card, nor exchange signals.

Cultist: If you truly know the bride well, you will know what the bride would want.

(That’s not possible.)

A drop of cold sweat trickled down my spine.

(I doubt Jude knows what kind of dress I’d like…!)

Jude: This one.

Kate: Huh…?

Without hesitating, Jude pointed at the black dress.

Cultist: Bride, please show the card you selected.

I showed the card with the number “13” written on it.

Kate: How… how did you know?

Jude: It’s the power of love.

Jude said with a smile that looked more like he was making fun of love.

(He figured it out by observing my eyes and facial expression… I’m sure that's what happened.)

I rationalised in my mind and calmed the strange feeling I was having.

Jude: So? What’s the result of the final check?

Cultist: … You passed. You have been granted permission to vow your eternal love in the presence of the Founder.

Cultist: Will you hold the ceremony tomorrow? Or—

Jude: Tonight.

Jude: We’ll hold the ceremony tonight.

Jude: She doesn't have the patience to wait till tomorrow morning.

[akirakirxaa]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 21: Grave

Rating: M

Word Count: 697

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, Suicide attempt, Blood

Summary: Akira stopped the Final Days, but is stranded in the past, with no way back to her future or her friends. For saving the star and averting disaster, the Convocation has done their best to make her feel welcome, but Akira can't help but feel empty inside. [Time travel AU? Not really sure what to call this AU. Same universe as Prompt 1 but it's not necessary to read that one to understand this one.]

Master Post

Akira sat in the dark room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The walls were bare, the windows just as decorative as every other room in the capitol building. There were a few small furnishings, nothing beyond the necessary. A small bed in one corner, a table and chair, and…that was it. Akira waved off the concerns of grateful Words that insisted they would be happy to make anything she needed or desired to make her comfortable. She needed to think about what she would need, she claimed. Maybe sleep on it. Not a soul on the convocation protested Elidibus’ decision to allow her to stay until they found her more permanent lodgings. Akira should be grateful for such generosity.

It was a shame it was going to go to waste.

Akira stared at her greatsword in the dark, the purple crystals a memorial to a future that now would never be. A blow that would never need be struck, least of all by her. It would be only fitting for her final breaths to be taken by these crystals, when their creator had been felled by her in his attempt to strike her down.

“Maybe your future still exists in a parallel dimension,” Azem had said encouragingly when she’d faced a room entirely devoid of the portal that had brought her to the past. “We’ll research it. Surely we can find you a way back to help your friends!”

Azem — Persephone, she reminded herself — was so optimistic, but the grave faces of other convocation members at her back told Akira what she needed to know. None of them would risk experimenting with time when they only just barely escaped disaster. Elidibus — or Themis, as she’d learned his name was — had insisted that they would do everything possible to make her feel welcome, and so far he was delivering, but…

Akira could not stop thinking about her dearest friends. The ones she’d completely erased from existence. And their loved ones. Their friends. People she never met and now never would. Places she would never see. An emptiness yawned wide inside her soul like a grave, ready to devour her whole.

She flipped the sword, nearly as long as she was tall, and braced the handle against the floor. Akira remembered Hythlodaeus telling her about how the ancients chose when to die, returning to the star when their purpose was complete. Was hers not complete? She stopped the Final Days and erased the world she loved in the process. What was her soul but a reminder of the disaster so barely averted? Everyone would be better rid of it. Would her soul even be able to join the Lifestream in this time, torn and damaged as it was?

She gripped the blade of the sword and angled it towards her chest, hands bloody as she clenched them around the sharpened edge. The amethyst glow seemed to brighten in the dark. All she would have to do was lean forward.

A knock at the door. Akira ignored it, glaring at the blade as she gathered her courage. Another knock, and she bit her lip, breathing heavy as she tried, tried to throw herself upon the sword, but continued to just stand there, hands tight on the crystal and blood dripping down.

“Akira? Sorry to barge in but I wanted to see how you were— Akira!” Hythlodaeus hesitantly pushed open the door that she’d foolishly forgotten to lock, only to push it out of the way as he hurried to her side, knocking the blade from her hand where it clunked heavily to the floor. He pulled her close as the emotions that she’d so stalwartly hidden just beneath the surface since realizing she had no way home cascaded down her face and into his robe.

“Why?” he asked, voice shocked. Akira struggled for breath.

“You said that… that once your purpose is done, you return to the star… That it was beautiful…” she choked out between sobs. He clutched her tighter, and they sank to the floor as he gently rocked her back and forth.

“Not like this,” he murmured quietly into her hair. “Never like this.”

[libellule-ao3]

Life Links

7. Jacob Thorn / Little Bird

Summary: Jacob is brooding in a cell.

⚠️Warning: captivity, violence, torture mentioned, swear word. ⚠️

Chapter index – previous chapter (Tulip Karasu) – next chapter (Jae Kim)

Locked in the cold, damp basement of a mansion of which he knows every corner, Jacob broods over the dark thoughts of a betrayed man. In the light coming through a window well, he observes the bruises on his skin, and his raw wounds, the result of endless torture. Spells have made the bones in his legs disappear, potions have made them grow back in abominable pain. Water bubbles enveloped his head in a simulated drowning. His body was burned and thrown against the pillars of the interrogation room.

Retaliation for his actions, but also a way to make him hand over his accomplices, to make him confess his objectives, what he knows and the informations he has passed on and to whom…

For whom did Jacob keep silent?

Was it loyalty to Dumbledore, who asked him to infiltrate the Death Eaters to get at the heart of the enemy? He is dead. And so are his only friends.

For Snape, who suggested he eliminate Nagini, Voldemort’s loyal snake, using the Fiendfyre? Jacob dislikes this double agent whose true loyalties he can’t figure out.

To be on the side of good? Jacob has navigated so many murky waters he doesn’t even believe it anymore.

For Annie? His little sister is doing just fine without him and has proven it time and time again.

For his mother? He has long since stopped expecting her to be proud of him.

So for whom? For whom did he keep silent? Whether or not he talks, he’ll end up dead here!

A door creaks and Jacob stands up. Will he be tortured again? His jailer walks up to his cell and watches him silently, entrenched behind her mask. Jacob’s face twists with pain and rage as he recognises the figure of his visitor, his torturer... and the executioner of his heart.

This witch whose stubbornness, pride and cunning he has come to appreciate. She has several labels in Jacob’s eyes: self-proclaimed rival of his sister, discreet accomplice to his infiltration by facilitating his search for information without denouncing him, passionate lover and finally...

“Traitor!”

“I had no choice.”

Jacob signs his contempt with a spit. “Traitor!”

“Why did you target Nagini?” she says, removing the mask concealing her face.

Jacob’s gaze defies irises the intense colour of an amethyst. Why kill Nagini? Because it is the only being in the world that Voldemort seems to have any kind of attachment to, and Snape claims the snake holds a piece of Voldemort’s soul. Therefore, killing the reptile is a condition for the annihilation of You-Know-Who. The wizard would rather die than tell her!

“You'll regret stopping me,” he says, clutching the rusty bars of his cell. “Why did you do that? I thought we were on the same side, Merula. What the fuck has changed?”

The lock mechanism suddenly activates and opens the door of his prison with a sinister creak. Then a pair of handcuffs materialises around his wrists. As soon as he takes his first step outside, Merula tightens the handcuffs.

“Follow me!”

Her voice snaps like a whip. Jacob follows the witch to another dungeon where she asks the prisoner wrapped in a warm cloak, her own, to follow her as well. Despite the dirt and her hunched back, he easily recognises this other prisoner. Penny Haywood. She must be the potionist plucked from her home to concoct countless cauldrons of Wolfbane potion that he has vaguely heard of. She is so weak that their jailer does not even bother to handcuff her.

They walk through tunnels lit by the few torches that light up as they pass, and Merula coldly informs them that all forces have converged on Hogwarts to confront each other.Suspicious, Jacob moves forward with cautious steps. Will they be killed? No, if Voldemort wins, he will still need Penny. Will they be moved somewhere else, where no one is likely to find them?

A shiver ran down his spine. With a shy smile, Penny wraps her arm around his bare shoulders to share the warmth of her cloak. Her kindness touches him all the more because he no longer expects anything from anyone, and for a second, Jacob considers playing the hero for this girl. She’s a good friend of his little sister. That would be at least two people to put flowers on his grave. But then he changes his mind. Who knows what traps are lurking in this labyrinth that Merula moves through so effortlessly?

“Traitor, traitor, traitor,” he mumbles like a mantra.

It is difficult to perceive the distance travelled or their direction in this monotonous environment with no landmarks to rely on. The darkness clouds his senses. Without wanting to, he lets himself be intoxicated by the feminine perfume that warms his skin... and despite himself, his heart.

Love and the desire for revenge tear him apart.

Merula is his little bird... but she’s also a fucking traitor!

[serenity-songbird]

Would it be ok to ask about a (Platonic) steven finding out that his friend (y/n) doesn't die but instead respawns after a little bit of time if not I do not care but I would like to ask you

Steven was completely traumatized after he saw you die.

You were his age and his best friend besides Connie.

When he watched the homeworld gem plunge their ax into your chest, the world stopped.

He watched you bleed out and the others try to save you.

But it was too late.

"Oh my goodness! They killed (Y/N)!" Pearl gasped in horror.

"You bastards!!!" Amethyst screeched and charged the murderers.

Sorry. Not sorry.

Three weeks had passed since then and he was a wreck.

Never left the house.

Didn't eat.

Barely slept because of the nightmares.

And he was just depressed.

The Gems, Connie, and His father tried to cheer him up.

They tried everything they could to get him to eat, sleep, take a shower, and really do anything except lay there in his room.

Even all his friends from town came to visit.

But he just wasn't the same.

Then all of a sudden, one day everyone acted completely normal.

They talked about you as if you were still alive.

The only ones who still remembered your death were him and Garnet.

Even Garnet was baffled because her future vision was distorted for some reason when it came to you.

They sat in his room and Steven was ranting to Garnet about this.

Then here you come up the stairs waving hello like nothing happened.

They were both shook.

Then Steven ran up to you bawling and hugging you.

Even Garnet shed a few tears and embraced you.

When you realized they remembered your death, you were so so happy and cried with them.

You told them that when you die, you will come back to life after a little while and no one remembers you dying.

Steven and Garnet were horrified at that revelation.

Since they were the only ones that remembered, they became a little more protective over you.

They didn't want you to suffer.

You didn't die as much as you did before thanks to their efforts.

(And Garnet's future vision. Now that she knew the truth, your future was a bit easier to see).

Still, you had the, now rare, moments where you died by freak accidents.

Steven could never get used to it.

He hated that you suffered such a curse.

And he promised to find a way to stop it.

Unfortunately, it was a lost cause.

But you were always grateful for him.

[incendiobrock]

The Witches Forest

Request: heyy idk if u do requests but if u aree then can you do one where the reader is a witch and is dating colby so she goes on one of the haunted trips w them and does some reading idkk you can end it however you like <33 tyy! 

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I loosely based this imagine off the witches forest video on the Sam and Colby channel but instead of the witch from the video giving the reading it was y/n, and instead of Colby getting lost in the forest it was y/n. Hope you enjoy! Also this was loosely inspired by an imagine I read by @annab-nana you can read it here!

Warnings: sexual joke (I think that’s it)

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

It was a typical day with the trap boys. Your boyfriend Colby had finally convinced you to go on a haunted trip with them. The only reason you had agreed was because he had promised you, and Corey, that there wouldn’t be any seances. You would all be going to just spend the night there, not summon anything.

In fact, Sam was planning on doing a cleansing ritual that he had done some research on. So, you agreed. You were always super worried about the boys and the trouble that they would find themselves in, especially with demonic entities and spirits. 

One of the other reasons you had agreed to do the video with them was because you knew that the fans have been begging for you to make an appearance. Colby got tweets and comments daily about his “witchy girlfriend” joining in on a haunted overnight video. All the fans knew that you were super into crystals, and tarot cards, and different herbs, and just about anything that you believed would help protect you and connect you to the world of spirituality.

So here you were, sitting in front of the camera, Colby right by your side, his ring clad hand holding onto your thigh, as the rest of the guys surrounded the table. “Okay, who’s ready for the reading?” You questioned, looking around the table. Everyone nodded and agreed to begin. You passed the tarot deck to each of the boys, instructing them to shuffle the deck while thinking of their intention for the trip to The Witches Forest. Everyone did as told and passed the deck back to you, you were the last to shuffle.

“Alright, so I’m going to pick the top three cards and then we can go over what they each mean for us, and for the trip we are about to go on.” You stated, gently flipping over the top three cards, The Tower, The Nine of Swords, and the card of Death.

You felt the room tense as they all read the cards chosen. “It’s not bad.” You said, trying to calm everyone’s nerves. “Uh- I don’t know about you but a card that says death seems pretty bad to me.” Corey said, laughing out of fear.

“Yeah babe, what does that mean besides ‘we are going to die?’” Colby air quoted the last part. “Will you guys just give me a minute to explain it?” You laughed at your boyfriends face as his eyebrows remained scrunched on his forehead, looking desperately at you for answers. You went on to explain that death could signify the “death” of an era and the beginning of something new. The Nine of Swords means that their own thoughts can weigh them down, or cause a feeling of darkness, and The Tower means danger, chaos, but also liberation. 

“See, so nothing is necessarily bad. It actually seems like this might be good for you guys, especially since we are planning on doing the fire ritual too. That way you can begin a new journey and have a nice cleansed path before the next moon cycle begins.” You stated, leaning your head on Colby’s shoulder and cuddling into his side. He placed a short kiss onto your forehead taking hold of your hand, “Alright so let’s get on the road we don’t want it to get too dark before we set up the tent, plus it’s about an hour drive.” Colby said to the group, still holding your hand as you both stood up to go get into the car.

About an hour later you had all arrived at the forest. Colby had parked the car a little off the dirt path in a small clearing between the trees. You were happy to get out of the car to stretch after having to sit between Jake and Corey in the backseat. You brought along a small backpack of stuff like a water, first aid kit, a flashlight, and most importantly some crystals that offer protection. You took out the small ziploc with the crystal and began to give one to each of the boys, telling them to keep their crystal in their pockets for protection. 

Sam had asked you to explain to the camera what all you had brought so you showed him the black tourmaline, amethyst, and the obsidian, saying that they each offered protection and grounding properties. “Alright, now that we got our protection rocks let’s go pitch the tent we will be staying in all night.” Sam said, shutting off the camera. You all stood around trying to help as Colby did most of the work putting the tent together. You were impressed with his skills, never knowing that he could set up a tent with little to no instruction.

“Dang brother, those Cub Scout skills are really showing right now.” Jake joked, sticking the last spoke into the dirt. “Thanks brother, you know I’m skilled with these hands.” Colby responded, sending a wink in your direction. Your cheeks heated up as a small laugh escaped from your mouth. Leave it to Colby to make a sexual joke that makes the guys cringe. 

After a little exploring all together, and almost losing the location of the tent, you had all decided it was time to start the fire ritual. You were glued closely to Colby’s side, hearing a lot of motion within the trees. “Once we get the fire going maybe we will feel better, the light and heat should scare off any animals that are near.” Sam said grabbing the fire bucket that he had brought for this ritual.

Colby lit the fire and you all sat around in camping chairs. “We should’ve brought s’mores bro.” Corey said, trying to alleviate some of his fear. You agreed with him because you knew you felt the same fear as him at the moment. Sam explained what was going to happen with the fire ritual and passed out the objects that everyone was going to be throwing into the fire, in hopes to release any possible spirits that were attached to them. As soon as you guys started to watch the stuff burn Colby flew back, falling with his camping chair.

“Did you guys see that! Right there! Right behind Jake! Sam? Did you see it, it was like a shadow and it moved super fast right behind Jake’s head.” Colby yelled, standing quickly off the ground and shining a flashlight in that direction. “I saw that too!” You said, abandoning your camping chair as well. Colby took hold of the camera and began walking away from the fire and towards the trail. “Colby! Wait for us bro you can’t go alone!” Sam yelled out, chasing after him. “I have to go, I know I saw something I need to see where it’s going before it gets away, I wanna capture it on camera!” Colby said.

“Someone has to stay by the fire we can’t all leave! Jake you stay here with Corey and we will go investigate.” Sam instructed, but Jake hesitated wanting to go too. Corey ended up agreeing on staying by the fire so you three could keep up with Colby who was still walking quickly away from the group. You thanked Corey, worried that your boyfriend would get too far ahead of everyone. You began to jog to the path, already extremely behind the others because of the sudden panic. 

You turned onto the dirt path and didn’t see any of the three boys, but could barely make out their voices in the distance. You began to jog down the path, heading to the left. You had felt like you were getting closer to them but their voices still remained faint and incoherent. You knew that Sam had yelled for everyone to stay on the path in order to avoid getting lost so you kept jogging further and further into the forest, away from the fire where Corey sat.

You slowed to a walk, shining your flashlight all around, hearing tons of branches snapping and rustling. You suddenly felt very alert, almost as if something was watching you. You felt the panic really set in as it became harder and harder for you to catch your breath. “Colby!” You yelled. “Colby! Sam! Jake! Corey!”  You knew you had made a mistake going this far down the path. “Hello?! Can anyone hear me!” You heard a scream off in the distance making your eyes basically bulge out of your head. You turned sharply towards the direction of the noise, shining your flashlight out in front of your face. Your hands were trembling, shaking the light violently. Not only was it freezing out, but you were terrified of what was out there.

You began running back the opposite direction of the trail, your breath almost nonexistent at this point, but you were determined to make it back to the tent. You heaved, feet stomping away at the dirt path beneath. After what felt like a century, you saw the distant glow of the fire. You ran, the victory of reuniting with the boys fueling your return. The fire was now in clear sight as well as the figures of the four boys you were so anxious to see. The noise of you approaching causing them all to turn and look at you. 

You practically leapt into Colby’s arms, tears pouring down your face as you wrapped tightly around his torso. His hand found its way straight to your hair, pulling you as close as he could to his body, swaying you side to side. “Oh my god, baby. Where were you? I was so worried! I thought I had lost you.” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair trying to soothe your crying. “I-I was running after you a-and then I got lost. I heard a s-scream, I’m so scared.” You sobbed, never wanting Colby to let go of you.

“We looked all over, we were calling your name like crazy but Jake said we should come and wait by the fire incase you came back. We didn’t want to keep moving further away from you on accident.” Sam said, standing closely near you and Colby. 

“Can we please go? I don’t think I want to be here anymore.” You pleaded, looking into Colby’s eyes as his delicate fingers helped to wipe away your tears. “Yes, of course. I love you, I’m so glad you’re safe. Let’s head to the back up plan, the cabin.” Colby said, directing the last sentence to the boys. You nodded gratefully, making your way into Colby’s car while Jake, Corey, and Sam packed up the mess. 

The night was getting foggier as you pulled into the driveway of Jenna’s cabin. You felt relief rush over you, knowing that you wouldn’t have to spend another second in the Witches Forest. You all got out of the car and huddled by the front door, rain beginning to pour down. Sam took off his backpack digging through it to find the spare key Jenna had lent him. “Uh, Colby did I give you the key earlier?” Sam asked. Colby let go of your hand and patted his pockets down, “No I don’t think I have it. Is it in your pockets?” He responded, recapturing your hand in his, knowing that you were still shaken up about getting lost. Sam flipped his jean pockets inside out, no key to be found. He began pulling everything out of his backpack, searching deep into the bag for the key.

“Let’s go back into the car maybe I left it in there.” Sam said, heading straight back to Colby’s car. You all got back in as the rain continued to pour, Sam searching every inch of the vehicle. “I can’t believe you lost the key Sam, first Y/n goes missing and now this?” Jake says from the backseat, obviously frustrated. “It’s not all my fault okay? You think I meant to lose the key?” Sam snapped back, the tension in the car rising. 

After a lot of searching, the key was no where to be found. Much to your dismay, you had to go back to the tent in the depths of the forest. You all huddle into the blue tent, slipping into your sleeping bags. It was only a few more hours until daylight, a few more hours before the suffering would end.

“I’m not going to let anything hurt you. I lost you once tonight and it was the scariest moment of my life. It’s not going to happen again, I promise.” Colby vowed, pulling you into his chest. You smiled at his kind words, despite how scared you were he always knew how to make you feel safe. “Thank you Colby, I love you so much.” You responded, nuzzling further into his chest. “I love you, to new beginnings.” He chuckled, referencing the tarot reading from earlier. “To new beginnings.” You agreed, sealing the deal with a kiss on the lips.

[ventismommy]

“Pets”

baal/Venti/Zhongli smut

warnings: overstim, edging, degradation, inappropriate use of visions, dom!baal

Venti was the first to stir awake, his vision hazy. The bonds of Electro around his wrists tingled against his pale skin, making him let out a small sound of discomfort that echoed in the silent room.

Zhongli awoke not long after, a deep groan escaping him as he realized he was in the same position as Venti- wrists bound, clothes torn and skin bruised, kneeling before…a throne?

Each of them realized their surroundings as they looked up.

Before them was an elaborate amethyst and yumemiru wood throne, backed by intricate screens covering the walls, all displaying the Electro sigil. And on the throne rested the Empress of Eternity, the Raiden Shogun herself.

Baal.

The expression on her face was nigh unreadable, but her posture was as unbothered as ever, legs crossed nonchalantly and her head resting in her hand as she leaned on one arm of the throne. Her guards were nowhere to be seen, but even without them, her presence was intimidating.

“So…the impotent gods themselves. It’s been a while. Barbatos, Morax.”

Zhongli’s low voice was the first to speak back. “I must say, Baal, this seems quite like a threat. Hardly polite behavior when addressing another archon-“

“Hush. You have no Gnosis, either of you. I see no archons before me. Only two fallen gods who failed to keep their reign intact.”

She stood gracefully, heels clicking against the wooden floor as she approached them. As she walked past, she gripped Venti’s hair and pulled harshly, forcing him to look back at her. The sudden movement forced a yelp from the bard.

“You have been silent, Barbatos…perhaps you suspect already why you have been brought here?”

“I-I-“ Venti’s usual snarky response refused to come, and even his stuttering was cut off by another high-pitched sound as she yanked his hair again. With a few steps she was in front of him, and she crouched to meet his eyes. Her half-gloved hand reached out to grab his chin, turning his face side to side before forcing him to face her again. He met her eyes for just a moment, but already she could see fear being replaced by…excitement? What a pathetic little masochist, she thought as she stood up abruptly, releasing his jaw.

“I will tell you why you have been brought here. So I may offer you a choice.”

“Your precious Traveler has been defeated. And yet again, you have failed to end my reign. It is only a matter of time before Inazuma reigns eternal not just over these islands, but over Mondstadt and Liyue as well. Of course, I will not offer you a place as my equal, but…even gods get lonely over the expanse of eternity. So I offer you this. Fight against me and lose, sentencing your kingdoms to destruction. Or…take your place kneeling by my throne, enjoy a life of comfort, and…your kingdoms shall be safe under my rule.”

Both were silent in response- and Baal was not having that. She glared at them.

“Perhaps I did not make myself clear. You either die fighting for regions who will be decimated the moment I strike you down, or you protect your homes and become, well…”

“Pets.”

Zhongli froze instantly, but Venti was still so hazy that it took him a moment to process. When he did, he went silent with shock, staring at Baal in that same mix of fear and excitement. She narrowed her eyes. Obviously Morax would be harder to break…

“You are not convinced? Hmm. Well…perhaps I may have to put in some extra work.”

Baal rose to her feet and approached Venti, gripping his hair again- though, gentler this time than before. Her hand moved down to caress his cheek, and a barely audible whine escaped his throat. She knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes steadily.

“You’ll be a good pet, yes?”

Venti hesitated for only a moment before nodding fervently, leaning into her hand. Her hand was just so soft…he was doing this to save Mondstadt, right?

Right?

She half-sneered at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him forward by it, towards her throne. He stumbled, unable to crawl properly with his hands bound, but he certainly tried his best to make it to the throne. When Baal finally settled into her seat, she smiled at him and freed his hands from the electro bonds. “Good boy,” she cooed with a condescending leer. “Up onto my lap now.”

Venti scrambled to obey, crawling up into her plush lap, but she clicked her tongue at him. “Other way, pet. Face Morax, will you?” He nodded again and turned, hesitantly meeting Zhongli’s eyes. The expression in them was a mixture of shock and disgust at how easily Venti had broken, but somehow the disgust just spurred him on.

Baal’s arms wrapped around Venti’s waist to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. She left it on once she was done, hanging open on the anemo archon’s small frame, and let him shift his hips up so she could tug off his shorts and tights. He scrambled to do so, and when he was finally bare besides his shirt, he had to hold back an impatient whine, trying to sneakily grind his cock against the arm around his waist. Baal just chuckled at him, moving her arm away just to hear his desperate whine as he thrusted his hips into air. “Aren’t you a needy little thing, hmm?”

The words were pouring out before Venti could stop himself. “Yes, y-yes I am, pl-lease-“

Baal hushed him, grabbing his chin with one hand to make sure his face stayed turned towards Zhongli. She spat on her other hand before wrapping it around his cock. The first noise that came from Venti was a sigh of pleasure and relief, but his whole body immediately stiffened up and he keened when he felt a tiny current of electro roll through his skin. “O-oh!” He choked out in surprise, bucking his hips

up towards her hand for more of that sensation. She obliged him, the currents getting stronger as his moans rose in pitch. Venti could barely keep his eyes open to look at Zhongli, but when he did, he was surprised to see a flash of excitement in Zhongli’s eyes, one that the geo archon quickly hid behind disgust.

“Look at him, Morax. Isn’t he a pathetic little darling? Doesn’t he fit into his role of pet so well?”

She paused for a moment to cover Venti’s neck and shoulders in bites and kisses.

“I wonder how long it will take you to break too.”

Venti’s small frame shuddered and jolted with each current she sent through him, and eventually one of his hands reached back to grip Baal’s thigh for support, his nails digging in slightly. “Ha-ah, oh, o-oh that feels g-good-“ he whimpered, the condescending chuckle that Baal responded with only making him squirm even more.

Then a particularly strong current came from her hand, and there he was, stiffening up with a shudder and coming.

Baal stopped for a moment in surprise, but quickly regained her momentum. “Awww, was that too much? Too much for your pathetic little cock?” Venti squirmed and shook his head no quite insistently, giving a few embarrassed whines. “N-n-o, I can t-take mo-ore, ‘m not pa-pathetic-“

“Oh, yes you are, and I love it.”

She gave him no warning before she started up again, the currents even stronger this time. Venti yelped and thrusted up into her hand, hips struggling her loose grip, but she gave a rather tame slap to his thigh, and he settled down quickly enough. “‘m sorry, ‘m s-so-orry-“ he hiccuped, starting to tear up with sensitivity. She shushed him, though her tone was slightly gentler. “That’s alright, pet, would you like me to slow down?” Venti immediately shook his head no, trembling in her lap. More tears started rolling down his cheeks at the thought of her stopping now.

“Nononono pleas-se, don’t stop!” He cried, his nails digging in further into the flesh of Baal’s thigh. “Want m-more, more, ple-please?”

Baal hummed in agreement, but rather than speed up her pace, she shifted the way he sat on her lap, nudging his legs apart until each one rested on an arm of the throne. Venti’s moans carried a hint of confusion now, but then Baal took the hand that wasn’t around his cock and ran her fingers over his tip, collecting the precum there.

And then, those two fingers slid down to circle his hole, and Venti nearly threw his head back in pleasure when the first finger slipped inside of him.

Baal had completely taken his breath away now, starting to curl her fingers in that oh-so-perfect way once she’d added a second finger. Despite making it clear that she was in control, she was gentle with him, so gentle Venti could fool himself that she cared.

She did, of course, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.

She was careful to observe his actions, desperate and lewd as they might be. He wasn’t attempting to rock back against her fingers yet, so she assumed the stretch must still burn a bit. Baal decided slowing her pace a bit may help, but then the tiny god’s hand reached down to wrap tightly around her wrist, as if to say, “no, keep going!” She wouldn’t deny him that when he’d been so good for her so far, so she didn’t slow too much.

It was another moment before Venti started moving against her hand and she decided that meant he was alright. He was full-on crying in pleasure now; poor thing was completely overwhelmed, and Baal tried to keep that in mind when she curled her fingers gently into that perfect spot inside of him. He jerked up in her lap with a high-pitched whimper at that, babbling incoherent nonsense that occasionally included her name. She shushed him soothingly, placing tender kisses against his pale throat, but didn’t slow, wanting to push him to that edge again. Venti started to double over as if trying to hide his coming climax, but she caught him, moving her hand away from his cock momentarily to press him back against her chest. Too fucked-out to struggle against that, he slumped against her as she returned her hand to his cock, her fingers still working inside of him.

“So, pet…how do you feel about my proposal now? Have I managed to convince you?”

“Yesyesyesy-yes, wanna be y-yours, please, j-just- just- just let me cu-cum, please-“

Baal chuckled, directing a wolfish smile towards Zhongli for a moment. “Go on then, darling, you can cum.”

Venti tensed up with a string of “thankyou-“s falling from his lips. His thighs shook as he came again.

Venti’s exhausted body went limp, and Baal kissed his forehead, shifting him to the side of her lap so he could curl up against her chest. “Good boy,” she cooed at him, stroking his hair as she carefully pulled her fingers out of him.

Then, as Venti was starting to drift off in her lap, she turned to Zhongli. “Your turn, Rex Lapis,” she said, somehow managing to make the title sound so utterly disrespectful. She tapped the ground with her foot.

“Here, boy.”

Zhongli scoffed at her at first, not moving an inch. But then she snapped her fingers and a band of electro wrapped around his neck like a collar. She made a come-hither motion and the collar tugged him forward. “I said, here, boy.”

Zhongli reluctantly obeyed, unable to deny that being treated like a lapdog made his core tighten. He crawled over to her foot, looking up at her. Her hand reached down as if she were a gracious goddess, bestowing a gift, and she brushed his hair out of his face before tugging on it.

“You see, Morax, Barbatos was a good boy, and he was rewarded for it. Only good boys get rewards, only good boys get their mistress’s hand. And you have not quite met my standards. So.”

She outstretched her leg towards him, never freeing him from the electro bonds the way she had with Venti. “Go on, brat. Get off on my leg like the dog you are.”

Zhongli gave a whine of protest, wanting more than her leg, but her quick glare silenced him as she turned back to Venti, whose face she covered in kisses.

He scooted forward and settled himself in front of her leg, face burning in humiliation, and started to grind slowly against it. The first moan that came from him was almost shocked, as if he couldn’t believe something like this would feel so, so good. Even his next few moans were choked as he started rutting against her leg a little faster, turning his face to hide it in the inside of her leg. His eyes rolled back in his head when she tugged him out by the hair, forcing him to look at her. Baal tsked disapprovingly at him.

“Oh no no, that will never do. You will look at your mistress so she can watch that stubborn, bratty face melt. Now. Continue. A little faster, if you think you can handle it; perhaps if you’re a good boy I’ll let you sit on my lap and ride my thigh instead.”

That was incentive enough for Zhongli, who picked up his pace with a whimper, holding eye contact with Baal the entire time. He almost wanted to cry in shame when he, still looking her in the eyes, started to pant like a dog, overwhelmed from how good it felt. But she just cooed at him and ruffled his hair. “Awww, there we go, see? Isn’t it nice to give up control, Morax? Doesn’t it feel good?”

He nodded with a whine that was significantly lower in pitch than Venti’s, but no less adorable.

“Words, pet.”

“Y-yes mistress, ‘t feels s-s-so good, f-feels- a-ah, hah!”

She smiled graciously at his answer, and then gestured for him to come sit up on her lap, next to Venti, who was slowly stirring awake again. Immediately, Zhongli obeyed, starting to grind on her soft thigh and letting out a moan.

“Think you can be a good boy for me?” She asked him, her tone almost bored.

“Ye-es, I c-can, I promi-ise-“

“Good.”

Baal shifted Venti in her lap slightly so Zhongli would have room. Venti gave a confused whine, but she soothed him with a kiss to his forehead.

“Now, here are the rules. You go on and strip for me, Morax-“ before she even finished that sentence, Zhongli was up and pulling off his clothes, tossing them to the side and settling back on her lap.

“-good pet- now, you sit here on my lap, and I’ll let you use my hand. But don’t you even think about cumming until I tell you to. Understood?”

Zhongli nodded quickly, a grateful moan catching in his throat as Baal started to stroke his cock. It took less than a few moments to have his head falling forward, his breath short and heavy. He squirmed as if trying to get away from her hand and get more of her at the same time, and she sneered. “What? You think you deserve what I gave Barbatos?”

Zhongli shook his head. “N-no, I d-don’t, but-but- p-please- I want-“

His sentence was cut off by a breathless cry as she sent those same electric currents she’d used on Venti through him as well. Now he understood why Venti had gone half insane over this- oh, it felt so good, slightly painful but good. His hands shot out to grip her shoulders tightly. When he realized what he was doing, he looked up at her with a panicked expression, but she nodded. “That’s alright, you can hold on.” He whimpered out his thanks as his hips started to jerk in her grip, trembling as the currents grew stronger. Oh, he was so close, and-

Fuck. He’d forgotten her rule.

He looked up at her again, this time more pleading. When she didn’t seem to notice, he pawed at her shoulder. “P-Please, mistress, please, c-c-ah- can I c-cum- I need- I n-need to, ah-“

Baal met his eyes with a bored expression. “Do you think you deserve it? Do you think you’ve been good enough for me?”

“Yes, Ye-es, I’ve been g-good, please!”

“Hmm. Why don’t we ask Barbatos.”

Baal turned to Venti with a soft smile, petting his head. “Do you think we should let him cum, darling?”

Venti met his eyes for a moment long enough to leave Zhongli panicking. Then he nodded weakly, and Zhongli sobbed in relief.

“Go on then, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli completely collapsed as he came. While the electro currents worked him through that climax, he folded into himself, sobbing in pleasure. Baal petted his hair like she had Venti’s, comforting him as he came down.

“Good boy, Morax~”

Baal opened her arms for him and Zhongli shifted to mimic the way Venti was sitting, curling up against Baal as he caught his breath. He had to admit, this was…nice. Being a pet hadn’t sounded good at first, but if this was what he got out of it…

“I must say, I’m quite excited to have two new pets…”

[magioftheseas]

Bisou

Summary: Sometimes, you just gotta write the boys making out.

Rating: T

Warnings: Lil spicy, but only a lil. Mentions of vampirism...obviously. It wouldn’t be out of place in the actual manga.

Notes: Yep. This is short and cute, hence the more cutesy title.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

In retrospect, he should have known this was how he would die.

A normal, blessedly clear, and warm morning like any other. Calm and peaceful—a day where he could’ve watched the sky without worry or fear. The kind of day where getting far from his thoughts was most imperative and yet, the necessary means proved most elusive.

There was only one path ahead, and it was through the same window. A room he peered into inquisitively, as cautious as one best regard the depths of one’s soul. Inside that room—

Noé Archiviste stirs awake. He’s half tumbled off the bed, grasping onto a pillow like a lifeline. His amethyst eyes blink through drowsiness and formulae, and when he yawns, it’s an exposure of pearly white fangs.

This was, most certainly, the start of his downfall. Perhaps, it was predestined.

“Vanitas,” Noé murmurs, reaching up to rub the sleep from his gaze. “B...Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” he returns, unimpressed. “Do you plan on staying like that all day?”

Noé yawns again, adjusting so that the rest of his body was off the bed. All on the floor, still holding onto that pillow, the sheets askew... What a hopeless sight.

Vanitas clicks his tongue in irritation and, honestly, he should be on his way rather than bothering with this dim-witted vampire, but...

“Vanitas... May I ask you something?”

A low mumble just as he was about to turn on his heel. A shiver went down his back, and it wasn’t due to the breeze from outside. Vanitas sucks in his breath irritably.

“What is it?”

“A dream,” Noé goes on mumbling. “I had a dream...and I wanted to ask.”

“Ask what?” Vanitas demands, with a hint of a scowl.

“About...”

Vanitas turns to look back. Like a foolish bird, captivated by Noé opening his mouth. By Noé pursing his lips.

“Kissing.” Noé blinks a few times, his stare sharpening as he holds his chin up high. “What is it like, Vanitas?”

This was how he would die.

And he had laughed in the face of it, of course, only fizzling when Noé looked so serious.

“Ah, hell,” he grumbles and squats before the other, meeting that violet gaze with comparable intensity. “What brought this about, Noé?”

“Fleeting curiosity!” Noé exclaims, and there’s that irritating sparkle in his stare. The kind where Vanitas knows he’s going to make himself an irritant soon. “This is a matter you’re informed of, yes?”

“Fleeting curiosity,” Vanitas repeats with no shortage of annoyance. He shakes his head. “You can’t simply ask the de Sade woman? I’m sure she would love...”

“I’ve kissed people before, of course,” Noé says. “That includes Domi.”

Temper, temper, Vanitas told himself, but his gut still flared so disdainfully at the thought.

“Then—!”

“That!” Noé exclaims now. “Was different! Those kisses were...” Noé pauses, lips pursing again. No, Vanitas shouldn’t stare. He shouldn’t... “Those were different. They were closed. Aren’t there also open-mouthed kisses?”

Those ivory fangs once again poke out. Vanitas remembers something insignificant.

That Noé has kissed him, albeit while hopelessly, wretchedly inebriated. It was a celebration, he was told. It was a sign of happiness. Gratitude. The bastard nearly crushed him in the prison of his arms and then—

“That woman would love being the one to teach you this,” Vanitas spits out.

“But you are the one I’m asking, Vanitas,” Noé retorts like it’s that simple. “And I’ve seen you kissed Jeanne that way before, so I know you’re experienced.”

Stupid.

 “What’s it like?” Noé then asks, all wide-eyed innocence. “Isn’t it rather...messy?”

“Urgh!” He could scream. He should. “Asking such questions the second you wake—!” He stops himself. He breathes in. Breathes out. Grumbles. Groans. Noé still waits for his answer so attentively. It’s as infuriating as it was flustering. “Of course it’s messy. You use your t...tongue...after all.”

“How curious!” Noé exclaims. “But it is enjoyable?”

“I-In a manner of... Yes...” Vanitas forces himself to nod along even as he dreads each passing moment. “It is...erotic. At times divine. Though not quite like...”

Being drank from, his mind finishes, and he eyes Noé’s fangs again. He tries not to grimace. This would’ve been much easier with Jeanne. She’d get all adorably huffy and agitated. Easy to pick at. Easy to tease. Easy to lord control over.

“Hm,” Noé ponders, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder if I would agree.”

The thought of Noé pulling that wretched de Sade close...

He dreads each passing moment, but there are certain vices he would rather embrace over certain undesirable scenarios.

“Vanitas?”

Noé is looking at him so inquisitively. Intent. Intense.

I would rather die than he look at another that way.

Forcing out a sigh, Vanitas succumbs to his death.

“Shall I show you, then?”

“Please do!”

--

It starts as such: Noé seating himself on the bed. Still dressed so indecently in rumpled sleepwear. Shamelessly vibrating with excitement. Vanitas having to channel as much restraint as he could to not bite the inside of his cheek or lips.

If Noé drank his blood, Vanitas would have to kill him. And that—would be quite rude when Vanitas was the one who offered this. Still... Still.

“Stay completely still, Noé.”

“D’accord,” Noé chirps, perhaps in an attempt to be cheeky. To lighten the mood.

(It almost had the opposite effect. If their roles were reversed and if Vanitas was the vampire, he doesn’t think he’d be able to hold himself back from ravaging this fool on the spot.)

Vanitas sighs again, reaching out to settle himself on Noé’s shoulders. Noé is smiling up at him so sweetly. So trustingly. Ugh.

Sickening, he internally quips. But this is so Noé doesn’t look at anyone else like that. Especially not that wretch.

Stop stalling. He needs—to stop stalling.

Dieu, he thinks, seeing his wretched self now reflected back in the sparkling jewels of Noé’s stare. His hand flies over to cover Noé’s eyes, and while Noé gasps softly, he’s still so pliant. Still so obedient as Vanitas swoops in even if it’s to pause when there’s only a scant few centimeters.

He still has to be gentle. Even if it’s by accident, he can’t allow himself to be pricked.

I don’t want to kill him. I don’t...want to hurt him, either.

Slowly. Gently.

“Remember. Don’t move, Noé. Don’t even breathe.”

He presses his mouth to Noé’s parted lips.

For a moment, he doesn’t breathe either. But he can’t die yet, sliding his lips into place, keeping everything together even against the texture of Noé’s mouth. Dry, but largely soft. Firm.

Warm like a furnace even as Noé dutifully remained still as a statue. It perhaps should have been a tad disconcerting—except Vanitas could feel the unsteady hammering of Noé’s heart when he pressed his hand to the other’s chest.

Noé is still pliant. Rather than mouthing off or resisting, his mouth opens so obediently. Nothing to swallow or weather, just a simple passage.

Noé trusts him.

That knowledge burns like a scar on his heart, and he slips inside Noé Archiviste before he loses his nerve. He explores with caution, prodding gently at the flat teeth and being mindful to avoid the fangs. It’s annoying. He wouldn’t have to make such concessions with Jeanne—

But Noé tasted so sweet on his tongue. He’s already thinking back to Noé flushed with delight and a mouth full of cake. He laps away any remnants of sugar, sinking deeper into that velvety heat, and he himself delights in the conspicuous way Noé suppresses a shiver.

It’s addicting. There’s no denying his own pooling and building warmth, the predatory desire to ravage and reap one’s pleasures from such a willing, beautiful body. The monstrous desire to take such beauty between his teeth and—

He pulls off Noé with a wet smack. Saliva still connects their lips. A precarious bridge, much in character with the mingling of humans and vampires.

Noé’s cheeks are dyed with red, his amethyst eyes half-lidded and dazed. His tongue darts out, and Vanitas nearly shudders.

He furiously wipes Noé’s mouth dry after that.

“And that—is a French kiss,” he huffs. Noé blinks up at him, back to his usual wide-eyed innocence. “Has your curiosity been sated?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Noé admits. “I feel—I may need to experience it again, Vanitas.”

This innocent-eyed fool was still a beast. But were Vanitas not human—

There’s no telling what I’d do to him.

Ah, but.

You shouldn’t underestimate a human, even when dealing with a vampire.

“D’accord.”

[alifeofred]

Danny and Sam looks pt. 3

Okay onto part 3. Since I will not shut about about these two. Ever.

We start with the classic and amazing Frightmare. Because that episode did so much for my ship and it was in and of itself such a great episode. I don't get why season 3 was slept on. It gave us such great content.

Anyway, we'll start off with the dream sequence. And the utter awesomeness of it.

Danny was caught off guard at first. Because come on, even at the back of his mind he'd go... "Wait. I've been dreaming of this for ages, how is it real?" Probably what jarred him awake in the first place.

But it's the way that Sam shows up next to him and he immediately smiles. Smiles! At her! Like the smile was immediate.

That smile should be illegal.

Moving on to her being so damn open about wanting him and being with him that he's taken aback (he's like, 'So onboard, but this is kinda new.')

Then he wakes up and he realizes what the heck just happened and he immediately goes into super hero mode. Putting everything on the back burner while he deals with Nocturne.

Going back to her waking up from dreaming about him and he's there and he knows and she has some idea about what the heck the just happened and then... denial. Denial. Denial.

I mean, look at them. At this point, Danny boy, what's left to be in denial about anyway?

Then there were the knowing looks and inside jokes which just about killed me.

Look at this Marshmellow!

And then the additional, "Can you make room for me?" Like, just kiss already.

Not at Jazz and Tucker being the third wheel in the background. Tucker's like, "This happens a lot, I'm used to it." But Jazz is more, "What's going on here? Something to psychoanalyze when I get home?".

Ending the episode on a high note.

Idiots.

Which reminds me, check out His and Hers by MyAibou on AO3 and Fanfiction. The author showed extra scenes for the episode and they are to die for. I already consider them canon.

Moving onto Claw of the Wild.

Not that great of an episode except for the Danny and Sam moments. Other than that the episode kinda felt forced. Like some of the other season 3 episodes did.

Still solid Amethyst Ocean material.

Exhibit A.

Sammy. What's up with that.

Only these two would find imminent death to be the best time to have a moment. With the, "I can't live without you." Kind of moments. I swear...

And then the... "We don't have to wake them all up, do we?" Cue flirting.

He's all up for spending the night together again, Sam. Maybe you both need it to finally confess.

Ending the episode on THE highest note. Because I will forgive any stilted-ness from the episode for that one final bit of beauty that it gave us at the end. I love. Love. Love that scene.

These two laughing. And this is something I noticed. The sound of both their laughter mixing? It sounded so damn cute and adorable.

And with THE most romantic line I've ever heard. Like, smooth as fuck, Danny boy, smooth as fuck.

–We have our own soundtrack.

–It's perfect.

Uhh, this is the same Danny who got weak kneed around girls, right? Look at him pulling this stuff at the end. It's even more cuter because it's Her! His soulmate!

Damn, I'm crying again.

And since Phantom Planet has a lot to unpack, I'll see you in part 4.

[gimme-mor]

BETWEEN THE LINES: NIGHT COURT ELAIN & SPRING COURT FEYRE

*DISCLAIMER*

This is a really long post and based on my interpretation of the text.

This is strictly an analysis of Elain as a character because, in my opinion, there isn’t a lot of talk about Elain outside of ships and conversations about her character arc typically revolve around to whom she is paired, especially if that person is Azriel. She is her own character and gets the short end of the stick in the fandom because everyone is more concerned about who she’s shipped with rather than her as a character.

Also, anyone who is rude/condescending will automatically be blocked.

In ACOSF, SJM went out of her way on two occasions to highlight Elain not looking good in black. While it may be minor or insignificant to some, I think those instances were meant to show something about Elain specifically and what she may be going through in the Night Court. Elain has been a passive character for the most part, contributing to things in her own way earlier in the series. But after she was taken by the Cauldron, her safety has become everyone’s main concern and the other characters have slowly excluded her from courtly matters. In ACOWAR, this was understandable because she was traumatized and not fully present. However, as of ACOSF, Elain was still excluded from courtly matters with the other characters heavily relying upon Nesta, who made her reservations known, because they were on a time constraint and couldn’t afford to wait for Elain to reacquaint herself with her powers.

The fact that the other characters use the kidnapping situation to excuse their current actions toward Elain is eerily similar to the way Tamlin and Lucien used the Under the Mountain events to excuse Tamlin’s actions toward Feyre in ACOMAF. And the characters use Elain and Feyre’s safety to justify why neither of them should be involved. In my opinion, Elain in the Night Court resembles Feyre in the Spring Court because not only do they experience similar things, but both of them are (or were in Feyre’s case) in places that stunt their growth. Even though Night Court Elain isn’t exposed to all of the things that Spring Court Feyre was exposed to, the similarities in their experiences (and how those similarities might potentially impact Elain similarly to the way they impacted Feyre) shouldn’t be overlooked.

Being monitored

Feyre

I was too watched－too monitored and judged. Why should the bride of the High Lord learn to fight if peace had returned? That had been Ianthe’s reasoning when I’d made the mistake of mentioning it at dinner. Tamlin, to his credit, had seen both sides: I’d learn to protect myself...but the rumors would spread. (ACOMAF)

“Tamlin－Tamlin, I can’t...I can’t live my life with guards around me day and night. I can’t live with that...suffocation. Just let me help you－let me work with you.” (. . .) “I’m drowning,” I managed to say. “I am drowning. And the more you do this, the more guards...You might as well be shoving my head under the water.” (ACOMAF)

Elain

Nesta said, “The Trove. And what happened the last time I scried.” Feyre said, “We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain－he knew the risk. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.” She believed him. “All right.” (ACOSF)

Trying to fit in

Feyre

I hated the bright dresses that had become my daily uniform, but didn’t have the heart to tell Tamlin－not when he’d bought so many, not when he looked so happy to see me wear them. Not when his words weren’t far from the truth. The day I put on my pants and tunics, the day I strapped weapons to myself like fine jewelry, it would send a message far and clear across the lands. So I wore the gowns, and let Alis arrange my hair－if only so it would buy these people a measure of peace and comfort. (ACOMAF)

I sometimes debated asking her to pray for me as well. To pray that I’d one day learn to love the dresses, and the parties, and my role as a blushing, pretty bride. (ACOMAF)

Elain

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court－and would do whatever she needed. (ACOSF)

So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court...It sucked the life from her. (ACOSF)

Pretending everything’s all right

Feyre

“Fine,” I breathed. I made myself look him in the eye, made myself smile. (ACOMAF)

Elain

“And you?” I made myself say. “Are you－all right?” Elain looked over a shoulder at me as we entered the foyer, then turned left－to the dining room. In the sitting room across the way, all conversation halted at the smell of food. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those smiles before. On my own damn face. (ACOFAS)

Clothes not looking right on them

Feyre

I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts...The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air (. . .) I might have dealt with it all if it weren’t for the puffy capped sleeves, so big I could almost see them glinting from the periphery of my vision. My hair had been curled, half up, half down, entwined with pearls and jewels and the Cauldron knew what, and it had taken all my self-control to keep from cringing at the mirror before descending the sweeping stairs into the main hall. (ACOMAF)

I again surveyed the room, my wedding gown hissing on the warm marble floors. I peered down at myself. You look ridiculous. (ACOMAF)

Elain

Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. (ACOSF)

Looking good in clothes that suit them and that fact being pointed out

Feyre

My high-waisted peach pants were loose and billowing, gathered at the ankles with velvet cuffs of bright gold. The long sleeves of the matching top were made of gossamer, also gathered at the wrists, and the top itself hung just to my navel, revealing a sliver of skin as I walked. Comfortable, easy to move in－to run. Feminine. Exotic. (ACOMAF)

But those claws now dug in－and my entire body, my heart, my lungs, my blood yielded to his grip, utterly at his command as he said, The fashion of the Night Court suits you. (ACOMAF)

Elain

Gone was the ill-suited black dress from the ball, replaced by a gown of amethyst velvet, her hair half-up and curling down to her waist. She glowed with good health. (ACOSF)

People not wanting them to be involved in things

Feyre

“I want to go.” “No.” I crossed my arms, tucking my tattooed hand under my right bicep, and spread my feet slightly further apart on the dirt floor of the stables. “It’s been three months. Nothing’s happened, and the village isn’t even five miles－” “No.” (ACOMAF)

“I could use my powers against Hybern.” “That’s out of the question,” Tamlin said, “especially as there will be no war against Hybern.” “Rhys says war is inevitable, and we’ll be hit hard.” Lucien said drily, “And Rhys knows everything?” “No－but...He was concerned. He thinks I can make a difference in any upcoming conflict.” Tamlin flexed his fingers－keeping those claws contained. “You have no training in battle or weaponry. And even if I started training you today, it’d be years before you could hold your own on an immortal battlefield.” He took a tight breath. “So despite what he thinks you might be able to do, Feyre, I’m not going to have you anywhere near a battlefield. Especially if it means revealing whatever powers you have to our enemies. You’d be fighting Hybern at your front, and have foes with friendly faces at your back.” “I don’t care－” “I care,” Tamlin snarled. Lucien whooshed out a breath. “I care if you die, if you’re hurt, if you will be in danger every moment for the rest of our lives. So there will be no training, and we’re going to keep this between us.” (ACOMAF)

Elain

“Nesta’s spine straightened. No one spoke, but their attention lingered on her like a film on her skin. ‘You will not go looking for it.’” (ACOSF)

“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.” (. . .) “Keep out of this,” she hissed at her youngest sister. “I have no doubt you put these thoughts in her head, probably encouraging her to throw herself into harm’s way－” (ACOSF)

Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.” Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” “But Nesta should?” Cassian growled. Everyone stared at him. He swallowed, offering an apologetic glance to Az, who shrugged it off. Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.” (ACOSF)

“I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what. I won’t let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you and Elain are the only options.” “Elain doesn’t go near him,” Feyre said. (ACOSF)

Their safety being brought up when they want to be involved

Feyre

“Please. The recovery efforts are so slow. I could hunt for the villagers, get them food－” “It’s not safe,” Tamlin said, again nudging his stallion into a walk. The horse’s coat shone like a dark mirror, even in the shade of the stables. “Especially not for you.” He’d said that every time we had this argument; every time I begged him to let me go to the nearby village of High Fae to help rebuild what Amarantha had burned years ago (. . .) “People want to come back, they want a place to live－” “Those same people see you as a blessing－a marker of stability. If something happened to you…” (. . .)Tamlin said softly, “I can’t do what I need to if I’m worrying about whether you’re safe.” (ACOMAF)

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he murmured. “It’s fine,” I breathed. “I understand.” Not a lie, but not quite the truth. His fingers grazed lower, circling my belly button. “You are－you’re everything to me,” he said thickly. “I need...I need you to be all right. To know they can’t get to you－can’t hurt you anymore.” (ACOMAF)

“Tamlin got what I didn’t,” Lucien said softly, his breathing ragged. “We all heard your neck break. But you got to come back. And I doubt that he will ever forget that sound, either. And he will do everything in his power to protect you from that danger again, even if it means keeping secrets, even if it means sticking to rules you don’t like. In this, he will not bend. So don’t ask him to－not yet.” (ACOMAF)

“Did he let you take me today,” I said hoarsely, “so that I’d stop asking to help rebuild?” “No. I decided to take you myself. For that exact reason. They don’t want or need your help. Your presence is a distraction and a reminder of what they went through.” (. . .) “I know you wanted to help,” Lucien offered. “I’m sorry.” So was I. (ACOMAF)

Elain

“The last time we involved ourselves with the Cauldron, it abducted you,” Nesta countered, fighting her shaking. (ACOSF)

“Like calls to like,” Amren countered. “You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.” Nesta swallowed. “I can’t.” But to let Elain involve herself, jeopardize her safety－ (ACOSF)

Nesta’s pulse pounded throughout her body. “Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?” “I do,” Elain said coldly. (ACOSF)

If it was between her and Elain, there was no choice at all. She would always go first if it meant keeping Elain from harm. Even if she’d just hurt her sister more than she could stomach. (ACOSF)

Pushing back against what others want

Feyre

He hissed, “You have no idea how hard it is for him to even let you off the estate grounds. He’s under more pressure than you realize.” “I know exactly how much pressure he endures. And I didn’t realize I’d become a prisoner.” “You’re not－” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not how it is and you know it.” “He didn’t have any trouble letting me hunt and wander on my own when I was a mere human. When the borders were far less safe.” “He didn’t care for you the way he does now. And after what happened Under the Mountain…” The words clanged in my head, along my too-tense muscles. “He’s terrified. Terrified of seeing you in his enemies’ hands. And they know it, too－they know all they have to do to own him would be to get ahold of you.” “You think I don’t know that? But does he honestly expect me to spend the rest of my life in that manor, overseeing servants and wearing pretty clothes?” (ACOMAF)

Elain

Cassian shifted in his seat. “So we track down the Dread Trove－how?” Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.” Nesta’s head went silent as Elain’s words finished sounding in the room. Feyre had twisted in her seat, face white with alarm. Nesta shot to her feet. “No.” Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.” (ACOSF)

“It nearly killed me. It trapped me like a bird in a cage.” Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to...reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” “Absolutely not,” Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. “Absolutely not.” “Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.�� (ACOSF)

Being used as pawns against others

Feyre

“We need you to tell us everything,” Tamlin said. “The layout of the Night Court, who you saw, what weapons and powers they bore, what Rhys did, who he spoke to, any and every detail you can recall.” “I didn’t realize I was a spy.” Lucien shifted in his seat, but Tamlin said, “As much as I hate your bargain, you’ve been granted access into the Night Court. Outsiders rarely get to go in－and if they do, they rarely come out in one piece. And if they can function, their memories are usually...scrambled. Whatever Rhysand is hiding in there, he doesn’t want us knowing about it.” (ACOMAF)

Elain

Rhys angled his head at the not-quite question. “I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else. And as long as that remains, he’ll try to stay on our good side. But if that changes...His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.” His mouth tugged to the side. “If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever...do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows? Either for gain, or to ensure she stays safe?” “You let him hear everything tonight, though.” (. . .) I considered his question: Did I trust Lucien? “I don’t know, either,” I admitted, and sighed. “I don’t like that Elain is a pawn in this.” “I know. It’s never easy.” (ACOWAR)

Cassian glowered at Amren. “It’s not right to wield Elain as a threat to manipulate Nesta into scrying.” “There are harsher ways to convince Nesta, boy.” (ACOSF)

Although Elain and Feyre are surrounded by two different groups of people with varying levels of care for their wellbeing, they’re treated similarly which is hard to overlook. In Elain’s situation, Nesta, Azriel, and Feyre take on the “Tamlin role” (either undermining Elain’s attempts to contribute to things or preventing Elain from helping altogether) while everyone else takes on the “Lucien role” (validating the concerns of others while also enabling their behaviors, which doesn’t support Elain’s desire to be involved).

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 12

A/N: another shorter chapter here, a bit of an uneasy calm before the storm :)

Warnings: injury, fever, infection/corruption, unconsciousness, talk of possession, talk of death, crying

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

The last few days had been horrendous. Jimmy hardly got any sleep, staying at Scott’s side and comforting him through the horrible fever and corruption. The few times Scott was awake, he wasn’t super coherent- the fact that he kept clinging to Jimmy and borderline whining whenever Jimmy wasn’t right beside him proved that. Everyone was trying their best to come up with solutions for Scott. While Joel, Lizzie, and Pixl hadn’t seemed too keen on helping Scott at first, they quickly changed their tune when they heard about what Fwhip had said about Scott, how he had really cared about Jimmy, and left the Wither Rose Alliance because of it. Joel and Pixl tried offering golden apples and health potions, but Gem and Shelby sadly explained that they hadn’t been doing much good, only somewhat combating the fever and doing absolutely nothing to the corruption. Then they tried to remove the corruption- but Scott woke up screaming in pain, and that was a sound that would haunt Jimmy forever. They stopped trying to remove the corruption pretty much instantly, as it was clear that it was far too intertwined with Scott. They would just find another way, there had to be another way.

With Gem’s magic, they had managed to get the corruption to stop spreading across his skin- and it seemed like it had worked. Even Shelby seemed optimistic- her people were never able to stop the corruption from spreading. Scott’s fever went down, and he woke up, seeming far more coherent than he had been in the past few days. Well, maybe not super coherent, he looked extremely baffled and wondered if he was dead. But he wasn’t, he was awake and for once his icy blue eyes weren’t glazed over with fever or pain… but then just like that, everything went wrong again. Scott started shaking and hyperventilating, babbling out apologies- then he tensed, eyes turning red before they fluttered shut and he went limp.

“What happened?!” Gem asked as she burst in, followed by Pearl, Shelby, Katherine, Pixl, Joel, and Lizzie. Jimmy was still standing at Scott’s side, hand tightly gripping Scott’s.

“I don’t know, he seemed fine and then he wasn’t- and his eyes went red, the same red as the corruption,” Jimmy explained, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh no,” Shelby gasped, eyes going wide as she scrambled back from Scott’s bed. Jimmy looked at her in confusion.

“Shelby, what’s wrong?” Jimmy asked. Shelby swallowed nervously.

“There- there was something else that could happen to people because of the corruption- but it was rare, not many people lived long enough for it to happen.. but we got it to stop spreading, so why would his eyes…” Shelby’s rambling trailed off as she continued backing away from Scott’s bed, eyes wide with horror.

“Shelby, what aren’t you telling us?” Pixl asked, voice gentle yet firm.

“They would become like puppets, the corruption would control them so it could spread- but Scott shouldn’t just be lying there, if his eyes really went red then he should have killed us all by now,” Shelby explained shakily. Various gasps and shouts of alarm filled the room.

“You knew what the corruption did this whole time and didn’t tell us?!” Jimmy demanded.

“Jimmy, yelling isn’t going to solve anything,” Katherine reprimanded, but it was lost on Jimmy as he glared at Shelby instead.

“Becoming a puppet to the corruption was rare! And I didn’t think it was happening to Scott- most times, before someone got under the corruption’s control, they were in a much better state than Scott. But it was like that was what the corruption wanted sometimes. It would weed out the weak ones and keep the strong ones to spread it. And… well, with how Scott was doing, it seemed like the corruption saw him as weak. But then you said his eyes went red, and that was a surefire sign that the corruption took over someone- but he should have started killing people or trying to spread the corruption… it doesn’t make sense,” Shelby rambled, her terrified expression completely directed at Jimmy now. Jimmy’s shoulders sagged, and he dropped his glare to instead sheepishly grimace at Shelby.

“I… yeah, okay. That- that makes sense. Sort of. Sorry for yelling,” he said, giving her a weak smile. Shelby gave a trembling smile back.

“It’s okay. And who knows! Maybe Scott passing out means that he’s still fighting off the corruption,” Shelby said hopefully.

“I don’t think we can afford to be that optimistic,” Pearl said with a wary glance to Scott’s still form.

“Maybe we should lock him away somewhere, until we find a cure,” Joel pondered.

“I have a secret meeting room- Fwhip and Sausage know about it, but it’s probably the most fortified spot in my empire,” Gem offered.

“We could always set up a guard rotation, maybe have someone stay in the meeting room with Scott as a last resort,” Pixl pointed out.

“I’m staying with Scott,” Jimmy blurted. Everyone’s gazes snapped to Jimmy with varying expressions of fear and concern.

“Jimmy, that’s suicide,” Lizzie said softly, eyes slightly glassy. Jimmy felt his eyes watering as well.

“I don’t care, I’m not abandoning him. Not again. Besides, maybe Shelby’s right, maybe he’s still trying to fight it off. And if anyone can beat it, it’s Scott,” Jimmy said firmly.

“Jimmy, this isn’t your fault,” Lizzie said softly. Jimmy gave her a grim trembling smile.

“If I hadn’t pushed him away, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with Fwhip and Sausage on his own. Then maybe none of this would have happened,” he replied, guilt laced throughout his tone. Lizzie let out a frustrated scoff.

“Then you both would have ended up like this! Jimmy, we can’t lose you either!” she exclaimed, hands gesturing wildly as she began to cry. Jimmy let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob as he reached out to take Lizzie’s hands.

“Lizzie, what if it was Joel in this situation?” he asked softly. A look of understanding came over Lizzie’s face, but she shook her head, still looking like she wanted to protest.

“I- but-”

“So you know why I have to do this. I can’t just… give up on him again,” Jimmy continued. Lizzie let out a sigh of defeat, nodding at Jimmy.

“I told you these land boys were trouble,” she teased weakly.

“Didn’t think it would be this much trouble,” Jimmy said with a nervous laugh. Lizzie gave a watery laugh in response, and hesitated for only half a second before letting go of Jimmy’s hands to hug him tightly.

“You’re not allowed to die,” Lizzie murmured into his shoulder. Jimmy chuckled.

“Understood, Ocean Queen,” he said solemnly, swallowing the lump in his throat before letting go of her to look at the others.

“So you’re sure about this?” Gem asked. Jimmy nodded firmly.

“We should still keep a guard rotation outside too, that way Jimmy can call for help if he needs it,” Pearl added. The others nodded in agreement, and Gem fiddled with something around her neck before taking it off and holding it out to Jimmy. It was one of her amethyst shards on a chain, gently glowing with her magic.

“This should protect you from the corruption. The crystals are what helped me slow the spread of it in Scott, maybe it will help it from spreading to you. I’m sorry I don’t have a more definite solution,” Gem explained, pressing it into Jimmy’s hand. The crystal shimmered in his hand, glowing a bit before going back to its usual purple hue.

“Thank you- it’s better than nothing,” Jimmy replied with a smile as he put on the necklace.

“At the very least it looks nice on you!” Shelby chirped, relieving the tension in the room slightly as the group laughed. But the laughs dissipated quickly, and they began preparations to move Scott to the secret meeting room.

-

The wall closing in front of Jimmy felt like a finality. Realistically he could open it whenever he wanted, but that was only if the situation got dire enough, or if it turned out that Scott was okay. He had hugged each of his friends- even Gem, Pearl and Shelby, even though their friendships were relatively new- and it felt too much like a goodbye. But it wouldn’t be, surely Scott would be alright.

Jimmy looked over to the bed they had set up in the room, where Scott was still peacefully asleep. That was a good sign, right? Unless it wasn’t, and Scott would just… never wake up. Forever trapped in the clutches of the corruption, eternally fighting its control. Jimmy shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Scott would wake up, eventually. But whether or not Scott would be himself when he woke up was another issue. Would Jimmy really be able to fight him off? Would he even have enough time to call for help? And even if he did, would he want to? If he asked his friends for help, they would have to kill Scott in order to keep the lands safe from corruption. He just had to hope that Gem could figure out a cure before it got to that point. And maybe this worrying was for nothing! Maybe Scott’s willpower was strong enough to fight it… but there was no way of knowing that. Instead, all Jimmy could do was sit at Scott’s side, holding his hand and praying to whoever was listening that Scott would be alright.

-

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh 

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug 

[high-lady-of-earth]

A Strained Solstice (in which Mor speaks without thinking)

Hi!!!! This is a one shot requested by @mitchloveswriting​ 

I combined it with an anonymous request for fluffy Az x Reader. At this time, I don’t write anything 18+ but maybe in the future!!

Thanks for the requests and I hope you like it<3333

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: “az reader where everyone keeps asking when he and elain are getting togethr but reader gets sad bc theyve secretly been a thing for years pls?”

“Happy birthday, Feyre!” Everyone yelled at the same time.

It was a picture perfect moment. Feyre blew out the candles on her ridiculously elaborate birthday cake (courtesy of Rhysand, of course) as the Inner Circle looked on. Rhys stood next to his wife, Nyx in his arms, as he smiled at her. To their right, was Nesta and Cassian, mated and glowing as they held hands and looked at Feyre with love. You stood to Feyre’s left, with Amren and Varian next to you. Standing opposite of your High Lord and Lady at the table was Mor and Elain, the former with tears in her eyes and the latter with a broad, beautiful smile.

You instinctively knew that Azriel stood by the door, forever sticking to the shadows. You could feel his presence under your skin, almost like a sentient force that pulled you towards him with every fiber of your being. Your situation with the shadowsinger was sort of complicated, you had feelings for him and he reciprocated, leading to a few steamy makeout sessions during the year that you had been in the Night Court, but he had never deepened it. Never mind the fact that you wanted him to. You yearned for him to come to your side and be yours publicly, but you were too afraid to tell him.

The cake magically cut itself and you were handed a small slice of cake, the perfect size that you wanted. You silently thanked the House for knowing you so well. This year, Rhys splurged on Feyre’s birthday cake. It tasted amazing. The delicacy melted on your tongue and the frosting was so sweet that you moaned in delight.

“The cake must be phenomenal.” Said a voice behind you.

You whirled around to find Azriel casually leaning against the wall. You blushed as you realized what sound you had just made.

“It is pretty good.” You replied, a little embarrassed that Azriel had heard you. He walked towards you and you held your breath as his hand moved toward your face. The shadows that always surrounded him began to disappear a little.

“You’ve got some frosting on your cheek.” Azriel said softly as his thumb brushed against your face.

You stilled as you felt his callused finger linger a few more seconds than was necessary. Then, you watched his thumb move towards his mouth and kept staring as his tongue darted out and licked the frosting that had been on your cheek. You felt heat begin spread throughout your body as you saw your desire mirrored in Azriel’s eyes.

“Azriel! Do you want some cake?” Cassian yelled.

The moment was over as Azriel’s shadows returned and you saw the usual mask of ice harden his features.

“I’m fine, Cas. I stole a bit of Y/n’s.” Azriel replied to Cassian.

You felt your hope die a little as Azriel so casually dismissed the moment you two just shared. The all-too-familiar disappointment rushed back in and you once again felt the longing for what your friends had. Ever since you had been rescued from Hybern’s prison by the Inner Circle, your heart longed to find its mate.

“I would like to open presents now. Rhysand, please be a dear and bring them to the family room.” Amren announced. You knew the petite female was itching to get her hands on her new jewels.

You didn’t wait for Azriel as you walked into the family room and took a seat on the couch next to Mor. She looked so elegant in a purple gown and matching amethyst jewelry. You probably paled in comparison in your pink dress that seemed to be loose in too many places. Your worries melted away as Rhys brought in the solstice presents.

Of course, Amren opened her gifts first, receiving a majority of jewelry. You had given her a diadem of rubies to match the necklace Varian had given her years ago that she loved. Next, Rhys and Feyre opened the gifts for themselves and Nyx. It was no surprise that they received a lot of baby stuff, with your contribution being a magical baby rocker. Cassian and Nesta opened their gifts, which was made up of weapons and tactical gear. Mor got a lot of dresses and clothing while Varian received miscellaneous items. You gave Elain gardening stuff, like most people. Your gifts consisted of different things, from books to clothing to a painting from Feyre.

Lastly, it was Azriel’s turn to open his gifts. He received pretty much the same thing as always from everyone— weapons. You had his gift in your hand because you wanted to give it to him personally. Azriel was opening Elain’s gift when you heard Mor speak up next to you.

“When are you two going to get together? You’ve both been beating around the bush for years and I think I speak for everyone when I say put an end to our misery.” Mor said to Azriel and Elain.

Both Azriel and Elain blushed and you felt tears come to your eyes. The Inner Circle seemed to have no idea how much you cared for Azriel. Or maybe you were a fool, and you couldn’t see that he liked Elain. That would certainly explain why Azriel had never made the two of you official. You were just something to distract him from Elain, who he was forbidden to touch so that they could keep the alliance with Lucien and therefore Jurian and Vassa. The tears were threatening to spill over so you abruptly got up and muttered something about getting more wine as you made your way to the dining room.

You had just reached the table when you realized you still had Azriel’s gift in your hand. You set it down and asked the House for a wine glass, which appeared in your hand. You filled it with wine from the bottle on the table and sat down to wipe the tears from your face. You played back what had just happened in your mind, noting how Elain looked at Azriel like he was her savior. You were so deep into your thoughts that you didn’t notice someone softly sitting next to you.

“Is everything alright, Y/n?” Cassian asked you. He put a hand on your shoulder and looked at your face with concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Cas. It’s just another migraine.” You lied. He could tell you weren’t telling the truth.

“Is it because of what Mor said? You know she says stuff out of turn sometimes.”

“I’m fine.” You repeated. You held the wine glass tightly in your hand. Cassian sighed and got up, presumably to go back to the others.

“You know, Az is fool. You’re so much better than the rest of us. Even Elain left Feyre to take on the responsibility of feeding their entire family. But you, your kindness has no boundaries, even after what you went through with Hybern.” Cassian said.

“Will you tell them I had a migraine and went home?” You asked. He nodded and went to join the rest of the Inner Circle.

You put on your coat and and the House put your presents in a bag for you as you stepped into your slippers. Before you had the time to start descending the ten thousand stairs to your apartment in the city, Azriel appeared. He walked towards you, his presence dominating the room.

“Where are you going?” He asked. Azriel kept walking towards you, and he seemed a little angry. You had no idea why he thought he had the right to be angry and you weren’t going to be scared by his demeanor. You refused to yield a step and stood nose-to-nose with Azriel as he stopped in front of you.

“I had a migraine and I’m going home to rest.” You stated. Azriel narrowed his eyes, but you weren’t cowed.

“You haven’t had migraines in a month. I would know.” He said. You pricked at his last sentence.

“Would you really know? You seemed to be too focused on Elain to notice anything.” You accused. Azriel took a step back a laughed. He actually laughed.

“So that’s what this is about? You’re jealous of Elain because of what Mor said. Elain has a mate.” He said incredulously.

“That doesn’t seem to stop her.” You muttered as you finally looked away from him. Azriel lifted his hand to your chin and brought your face to look at his once more. He brushed a lone strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Let me fly you home, Y/n.” He said.

What did that mean? Did he want you? Was he just trying to apologize? Azriel saw your hesitation and quickly said, “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

You nodded and he picked you up, bridal style. Azriel’s arms lay under your knees and back and you silently reveled in the feeling of his muscles. His shadows closed around the two of you and you barely felt it when he took off into the air. You buried your face into Azriel’s chest. You never liked flying, but it was better than the alternative of descending ten thousand stairs and walking to your apartment. You felt Azriel’s slight stubble on your cheek as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I never licked the frosting off my thumb from Elain’s cheek, Y/n.” He murmured in your ear. If the words themselves didn’t make you curl your toes in excitement, then his husky tone did. Azriel’s voice caressed you as you blushed. You stayed there like that, in Azriel’s arms until you were both out of range of the House and he winnowed into the cozy living room of your apartment.

He set you down and you took a couple moments to orient yourself properly. Winnowing, no matter how many times you did it, always made you dizzy. You set the bag containing your presents on your coffee table and noticed Azriel’s present on top. You reached into the bag and took it out.

“I got a present for you.” You said.

“I have one for you too. I wanted to give it to you in private.” He replied.

You handed him the wrapped parcel in your hands. Azriel unwrapped his present and looked at you questioningly.

“The others don’t notice the shadows under your eyes. I know you aren’t sleeping, Az. It’s a tea I made. It’ll help you sleep.” You said. Azriel took a deep breath.

“How did you know?” He asked. You moved closer to him and put your palm on his cheek.

“I can see through the mask you put up for the others. I can see the purple smudges under your eyes.” You replied. Azriel engulfed you in a big embrace.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t given you my all, Y/n. I’m dealing with a lot of stuff, but I’d like to revisit us after we deal with the human queens.” He said.

You nodded and Azriel kissed your cheek. He pulled out a little package from his pocket and put it into your hand. You opened it and drew in a breath when you saw a key nestled in a velvet box.

“I have a house outside of Velaris. Only Rhys knows about it. Sometimes the city is a little much and I need to escape it and I wanted you to be able to have somewhere as well.” He said sheepishly. This time, you hugged Azriel and gave him a broad smile.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

[whump-me-all-night-long]

Jeweler!Sapphire AU (not canon)

Welcome to 3k words of this amazing AU idea that may or may not become a multi-parter. No editing, we die like.. idk. Please let me know what y'all think!!

Tagging the usual group (let me know if you only want to be tagging in canon stuff): @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme @kemonoinuzuka @circlingravens @whumpasaurus101 @spicy-wendigo @femmewithadhd @wafflestakethecake @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @broadwaybabe18 @whumpinggoodtime @temporary-whump-sideblog @dumb-and-lesbian let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: talk of death (in a pretty disrespectful manner), talk of human trafficking, intimate whumper, hair pulling, noncon touching, some pretty noncon vibes near the end, uhhh Saph/Dustin is a real asshole, let me know if I need to tag anything else!

Masterlist

---

The sound of a ringing phone woke Dustin. With a groan, he rolled over in bed, blankets tangled around his legs. Blindly groping along his nightstand, he found his phone and answered the call, from an unknown number, blue eyes squinting against the flash of the bright screen.

“Yeah?” he answered, stifling a yawn.

“Is this Mr. Moore?” a timid male voice said.

Rubbing a hand across his face, Dustin sat up, glancing at the clock with a groan. “Yes, this is he,” he responded, voice tight. “Now who the fuck is calling me at four a.m.?”

A throat was cleared on the other end of the line. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I’m Nicholas Jameston.” There was a pause, as if he expected Dustin to recognize the name. “I’m your uncle’s lawyer.”

Dustin blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. “My uncle? You mean.. Uncle Spence?”

A curt “Yes, sir.”

“Okayyyy,” he drew out. “Listen, I haven’t talked to him in years. Since I left for college at least. Probably before even high school. You see, my dad and him, they didn’t really get along-” He cut himself off. Why was he telling this man anything? “Anyways, there must be some confusion. I don’t know why he wants his lawyer contacting me all of a sudden.” Shit, he thought. Did I break or steal something last time I was at his place? Is this what this is about?

There was an awkward beat of silence before the lawyer cleared his throat again. “No, sir, there’s no mistake or confusion. You see, you’re Mr. Spencer’s closest remaining blood relative.”

Dustin was really not awake enough for this conversation. “Just say what you need to and be done with it.”

“Your uncle is dead,” the lawyer finally said. “And you’re his sole heir.”

-

Dustin pulled up in his car, a shiny BMW he’d bought using his dad’s life insurance money a few years ago. He squinted against the darkness of early morning, checking the address again. This place looked less like a family home and more like a fortress. A prison.

He wondered, for the millionth time since getting rudely awoken and told that a man he’d met only a handful of times was a) dead and b) giving him everything, what exactly he was doing here. His dad must be rolling over in his grave. Not that Dustin particularly cared about that.

He knew that the brothers had never gotten along, that his dad, the older brother, had apparently “abandoned” the family business because it was “amoral,” but Dustin had never really been privy to the details. He rolled his eyes just thinking about his dad and his need to be righteous and perfect all the time.

That apparently had gone out the window at some point, but the bastard was too proud to go back to his brother - their parents were already dead by that time - and instead decided to start his own company, selling.. who knew? Certainly not Dustin. No, the young twenty-six-year-old was perfectly content enjoying his bachelor playboy lifestyle, feeding off mommy and daddy’s blood money.

“Mr. Moore?” A man was standing on the doorstep, fidgeting nervously with a thick manila envelope.

Dustin took one look at him and barely withheld a sigh. This man, short, balding, oily, was a lawyer alright. He raised one lazy eyebrow. “Jameson, I presume?” he called back, making his way slowly up the path to the door.

“Uh, it’s Jameston, sir,” the man corrected quickly.

Dustin didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with. It’s early and I have a busy day ahead of me. Left a pretty girl waiting for me to call. Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

Not bothering to wait, Dustin stepped up to the door and opened it, stepping inside a grand foyer. He whistled softly, taking in the shimmering chandelier, the sweeping staircase, with a gold-woven rug running down the middle, and the many large and well-furnished rooms branching off from the entrance.

“Now this is a nice playhouse, huh?” he said, grinned indolently.

He saw Jameston’s jaw tighten fractionally. “Yes, sir,” he responded. “Now, I can give you a complete tour of the house now. However, Mr. Spencer’s real estate agent can do that when she arrives here in-” he glanced at his watch - a fake, Dustin had noticed - “a couple hours or so. Furthermore, there was a, erm, rather sensitive matter that Mr. Spencer tasked me with familiarizing you with personally.” He adjusted his tie slightly, clearly nervous, before motioning Dustin down one of the smaller hallways to the side.

His curiosity piqued, Dustin followed. “What do you mean? Oh, don’t tell me, was the old man into some shady illegal business? Drugs? Girls?”

Jameston shook his head, Adam's apple bobbing. “No sir. Your uncle, he was an.. art collector, of a sort. Well, he created his own art, really. However, it was not necessarily, um, legally acquired.”

Dustin barely held in a laugh at the lawyer’s clear panic. “Of course it wasn’t,” he scoffed. “Do you know how much shady shit has gone on in this family?” He couldn’t stop the bark of laughter this time. “Of course you do, you’re the lawyer.”

Jameston’s face flushed but he remained quiet until he reached an indiscreet door at the end of a short hall. If Dustin didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was a closet or something. Jameston cleared his throat as he opened the door. “Welcome to the Jewelry Box, sir.”

-

Carnelian sighed, his head falling back against the wall as he stretched his legs out along the small bed. The only sounds in the large room was the occasional movement from one of the others.

“That’s it,” he muttered, standing up and marching over to the glass wall. “Is anyone else wondering where the bastard is?” he called, frowning as he caught the gazes of several of the others.

Emerald just shook his head, silently warning him. Amethyst, however, scoffed, picking at her nails intently. “Why do you care?” she snapped. “It’s not like you’re ever doing anything but yelling and cursing.”

“So?” Carnelian shot back. “Aren’t you at least a little curious as to what’s going on?”

As if to answer his questions, he heard the door hiss open. Turning his gaze towards it, he felt his lips tugging down into a frown.

“Here we go again,” he muttered. “I knew the bastard would be back before long.”

Then he met the gaze of a stranger, arrogant and lazy and startlingly bright blue. Eyebrows flicking up, he blurted, “Who the fuck are you?”

Smirking, the stranger glanced at a smaller man next to him, one Carnelian had glimpsed down here once or twice before, always with the Jeweler. “I think I’d like to ask you the same question.”

The small man cleared his throat and began speaking, quietly enough that Carnelian couldn’t hear. Instead he took in the stranger, as if he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away.

The man was attractive, annoyingly attractive from Carnelian’s perspective. His skin was a bronzed tone, clear and smooth. He was tall, probably taller than Carnelian, with a lean, slightly muscled body. He had on a dark t-shirt that clung to his body and somehow looked expensive, with form-fitting jeans and some Converse high tops on as well. His dark brown hair was slightly wavy, with the top grown out long and falling into his face. Carnelian’s eyes drifted down towards his mouth before he forcefully pulled them back up to his eyes, which were-

Still on him. Carnelian felt himself blush and then scowl as he met the man’s gaze. Already he was getting on his nerves. And where the hell was the Jeweler? Was this stranger some new client of his, looking to buy one of them? At that thought, Carnelian felt a flash of panic through him and glanced over at Emerald, who was looking subtly at him as well, clearly thinking the same thing.

Carnelian tuned back in when the stranger exclaimed, “Are you shitting me right now?” The stranger was now looking at each of them, studying them more intently.

His gaze almost completely skimmed over Diamond and Ruby, both of them still curled up in their beds, watching with wary and confused gazes. He barely even noticed Amber, the new one still drugged to high heaven after mouthing off to the Jeweler yesterday. Carnelian doubted the kid could even remember their own name right now, much less stand up from where they were sprawled in their bed. He took a bit longer looking at Emerald, his defensive stance, wise eyes, then Amethyst, with her crossed arms and haughty expression, before finally settling on Carnelian.

After several long, tense seconds, he looked back at the other man. “So you’re saying,” he drawled slowly, deliberately. “That this, all of this, the house, the business, the.. Jewels-” his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk- “they’re all mine?”

Swallowing, the other man nodded. “Yes sir, that’s what I’m saying.” He drew out a piece of paper and, clearing his throat, began to read. “‘I hereby give the entirety of my properties, including my family home, my businesses, and my Jewelry Box, to my closest remaining blood relative upon my death.’ That would be you, Dustin Moore.”

There was a gasp from one of the other cells, where Diamond had stood up, flying to the window, eyes wide and frantic. “Death? Wait, no, Sir, he- he can’t be-” They dissolved into sobs, sliding to their knees on the floor.

Carnelian glanced around at the rest of the Jewels, the only sound coming from Diamond. The rest of them had frozen as well, not sure how they were meant to respond. Carnelian was reeling, glancing down as he took a shaky breath. On the one hand, he was glad the bastard was dead. On the other, well, the Jeweler had never looked at him the way the stranger, Dustin the other man had said, looked at him. The Jeweler looked at him like some prized object, something to be shown off proudly and then put back into storage. The Jeweler treated him less than human; Dustin’s gaze said he knew precisely how human Carnelian was, he just didn’t care.

Before he knew it, Carnelian was raising his head to glare at the other man, only to find him still looking at him. As Dustin slowly moved forward, he asked, “Did my uncle give these.. Jewels any names? Because I think I’m seeing a theme in them.” He stopped a couple feet away from the glass, his head tilted slightly. “The only one I can’t seem to figure out is this one.”

Carnelian’s lip curled. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he snarled softly, looking him up and down before raising his brows slightly. “Bastard jr,” he added.

Dustin almost seemed caught off guard before letting out a laugh. “I thought you said that he trained them to be all submissive and whatever,” he called over to the other. “Jameston, this one seems to be a bit feral.” He stepped even closer, lifting one hand to touch the glass. Carnelian fell back a couple inches, eyes still narrowed.

Jameston cleared his throat yet again. Carnelian would almost feel bad for the guy, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was complicit in letting him stay kidnapped. “Yes sir, your uncle had his ways of training them. However, he didn’t train them all the same way. He found that one’s fight to be..” He skimmed his notes quickly. “..rather appealing, sir.”

Carnelian made a noise of disgust as Dustin grinned. “I can’t say I blame him.”

Carnelian barely breathed until Dustin stepped away, turning back to Jameston. “Well, I’ve seen them all. Let’s go back upstairs now. I think I saw a nice liquor cabinet that I’d like to raid.”

Once they were both gone from view and the door had hissed shut, Carnelian leaned his head against the cool glass.

“You okay?” Emerald asked.

Carnelian just shook his head, a sudden lump in his throat. “The way he looked at me,” he said softly.

“I know,” Emerald murmured back.

He glanced up to find the older man looking at him with concern and pity.

“Well then,” Amethyst said loudly, breaking the silence that had fallen thick and heavy. “That was certainly something.”

Diamond sobbed loudly. “That.. that can’t be true. Can it?” They looked up, searching the others’ faces. Carnelian felt a twinge of pity for them. After over a decade of being trapped down here, they had been reduced to a mere shadow of whoever they might have once been. At whatever they might’ve seen on their faces, Diamond dissolved back into inconsolable sobs.

Resting her head on the wall, Ruby quietly asked, “So what happens now?”

There was a beat of silence before Emerald replied, “Now we wait.”

-

Back upstairs, Dustin was finally alone after getting rid of that annoying lawyer. He had had to practically shove the man out of the house to get him to leave. Even then, he had only left with promises to call later about the details.

For now, Dustin was sprawled out in a large, overstuffed armchair, a bottle of expensive whisky and a half empty glass next to him. He was already on his second glass, and he had no plans on stopping any time soon.

His mind drifted to the one who had glared and cursed at him. The smaller one, with the hard gaze, numerous freckles, and bright curly hair. The one Jameston had said was named Carnelian. Dustin looked up the stone and smiled at the pictures that were pulled up. Bright, fiery stones, of varying shades, Dustin had to admit, he could see the resemblance.

Pouring himself another glass, he sunk down further into the chair. He supposed he should be more concerned with the fact that there were six human beings locked in some creepy basement that he had apparently just inherited. But, after living the life that he had lived so far, Dustin had to admit that this was far from the craziest thing he had seen. He knew plenty of friends whose families had, well, less than legal people working for them, and now that he thought about it, he swore he could remember some show a few of his friends had gone to where the host had all his pets or whatever they were called designed as gemstones.

He laughed softly, quietly murmuring, “Carnelian, huh?” before draining the glass and pouring one more.

-

It was hours later when Carnelian awoke in the darkness. The bright lights, luckily, were still on their automated timer, so they had shut out at their usual time. It had been hours since Diamond’s sobs had slowly petered out and since the others’ quiet, stilted conversations had dwindled. Now, everyone was asleep.

Well, everyone except Carnelian. It took him a moment to figure out what had awoken him, a soft tapping on the glass wall of his cell. With a soft groan, he rolled over, out of the bed, squinting in the dim light.

In front of him stood the silhouette of a man. A couple seconds later, Carnelian recognized him as Dustin, his new.. owner. He almost snorted at the title. This man wasn’t any older than Carnelian, and he looked and behaved like an entitled, overprivileged frat boy.

Carnelian slowly walked closer. “What the hell do you want?” he whispered, because he didn’t want to accidentally wake the others and unleash the chaos that would bring with it. It took him a moment to realize that Dustin was fiddling with the lock on the door.

Without answering him, Dustin finally figured out how to unlatch it and swung the door open. He looked back up at Carnelian and made a silent motion for him to follow as he padded back towards the door.

Frowning, Carnelian carefully stepped out, towards him and the hallway beyond, where he could see light spilling out from the door. Knowing it probably wasn’t very smart, Carnelian walked into the hallway, squinting slightly at the suddenly bright lights.

Before he knew what was happening, there was a hand fisting in his hair and pushing him up against the wall. Carnelian looked up, eyes wide, to find Dustin standing much too close to him and several inches taller than him.

Feeling his breath stutter and his heart skip a beat, Carnelian breathed out, “What the hell do you want?” He barely dared take his eyes away from Dustin’s.

With the hand not pinning him to the wall, Dustin leaned closer and wrapped a curl around his finger, pulling until Carnelian wince slightly before letting it go, watching it bounce. This close, Carnelian could smell the whisky on his breath.

“Are.. are you drunk?” he asked, swallowing hard when that steely blue gaze met his, hazy yet surprisingly clear.

“That’s irrelevant,” he said, smirking as he pushed closer to Carnelian, who tried to pull away, but one vicious yank on his hair had his eyes watering and stilled the rest of his body. Dustin raised a hand and slowly traced over Carnelian’s cheeks, ending with one finger following the outline of his lips. “You’re Carnelian.”

Carnelian barely resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and instead held his breath, eyes wide and searching Dustin’s. He didn’t dare to breathe, much less speak, so he didn’t ask why Dustin had said something he already knew the answer to.

It felt as if an eternity had passed before Dustin pulled away, shoving Carnelian roughly back towards the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said glibly, pulling the door shut once Carnelian was through, leaving him back in the darkness.

Immediately, Carnelian went back to the one place he never thought he’d call safe. Once he had pulled the glass door closed, hearing the lock click, he curled up in his bed, as far away from the door as he could get, the thin blanket pulled over him as his heart beat in his throat.

He didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.

[feisty-emblem]

Let’s kick this blog off with the ship that inspired me in the first place!

Yuri/Byleth NSFW

Word Count: ~2700 Contains: FTM Byleth, Post-Skip, mild Golden Deer spoilers, lots of Firsts for Byleth

The sun sank beneath the horizon, suspending Garreg Mach in cool indigos and soothing blues. Candles flickered the windows of most dorms but even those winked out one by one as the hour grew later. The Alliance army had suffered a long battle, a longer march, and deserved a long rest. 

Byleth waded through the night. All around him, the monastery was settling in for sleep. The clang of metal on metal had stopped ringing from the training ground. Fireflies drifted lazily around the few guards still on patrol. Throughout Garreg Mach, quills had been put away, ink bottles capped, and nightly prayers whispered.

But Byleth knew better. As he walked, he could almost feel Abyss awake under his boots, like the buzz of a hive. There was always work to be done. Even here on the surface, Byleth watched  cats uncurl and stretch as the time for their hunt arrived. Bats wove between stars. Far away, beyond the walls, a wolf howled. 

Yet— even Claude’s window was dark now. Enbarr was behind them. Though there was more fighting to be done, the war was over. That was cause enough for Byleth to turn towards his room. 

Inside, Byleth locked the door, lit the lone candle on his desk, and began freeing himself of his clothes. All the while, his mind was a few feet below— on Abyss. On wherever capturing Enbarr had inflicted on its people. On what Yuri could  be doing. 

Because even after that march, Byleth knew Yuri would be awake. He would stay up as long as  his legs would hold him trying to solve all the worries of Abyss at once. Yuri cared for nothing and no one more than his people. Except his mother, of course. 

Byleth had no idea where he ranked on that scale. Yuri cared about him some amount, that much was certain. Shortly before the battle of Gronder, Yuri had cornered him in the church, kissed him deeply, and told him not to die. 

That kiss had led to many more. Sometimes after having tea in the gardens there would be slow, cautious kisses exchanged between rose bushes. Other times they would find themselves alone after strategy meetings and Byleth would end up with his back against the wall and his arms around Yuri’s waist.   

All Byleth knew was that Yuri didn’t want him dead. And that Yuri liked kissing him. But neither fact told Byleth where exactly he placed on Yuri’s priorities. And that was okay— there were more important things to worry about, Byleth told himself. There were more important things than the ugly disappointment Byleth routinely felt when he heard Yuri laugh at someone else's jokes, or flirted with a peddler for a better price, or told Byleth he was too busy for lunch.

Shaking his head, Byleth continued to strip until he was in nothing but his small clothes. Comfortable summer air flew in through the window. Forgoing his usual sleep shirt, Byleth blew out the candle, and fell into bed. 

For the next few hours, he could forget about Abyss, Enbarr, Shamballa— and Yuri. For a few hours he could leave the mess that was his feelings for Yuri in the waking world and dissolve into dreams.

That had been the plan anyway. But just as Byleth got comfortable, his door opened. He sat up, calling magic to his fingertips, nerves on end.

“Yuri?”

Yuri walked in as if he did this every night. He shut and locked the door behind him, kicking off his boots as he said, “I thought you’d never get here. I’ve been watching your window for over an hour.”

“Seteth and I were going over the route to Shamballa.” Byleth narrowed his eyes as he realized Yuri wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. He stood in Byleth’s room in a simple tunic and dark pants. A belt around his waist sported a dagger but as Byleth stared, Yuri took it off and looped it over the desk chair. “What are you doing here?” Byleth asked when Yuri also removed his tunic.

Yuri didn’t answer. Down to just his pants, he climbed gracefully onto the bed until his knees were parallel to Byleth’s hips, hands pressed into the mattress beside Byleth’s head. He held himself up inches from Byleth. 

“You alright?” Yuri’s breath caressed Byleth’s lips.

“What?”

“Are you feeling alright? After marching all the way here? No injuries I somehow missed?”

“N-No, I’m fine.”

A smirk. “Good.”

Yuri kissed him. It was a different kind of kiss than the ones they had exchanged before. Or maybe the angle was just different— Byleth wasn’t used to Yuri hovering above him. Or the way his hair fell down to tickle Byleth’s forehead. Or the pressure of Yuri’s hips descending on his own.

Byleth pushed Yuri back with a slight press to his clavicle. “What are you doing?”

Yuri chuckled. “I thought that might be obvious.”

“But—” Byleth struggled to sit up. Yuri let him, still with a knee on either side of Byleth, hands going to Byleth’s shoulders to keep steady in his lap. “But why now? I thought you would be busy.”

“Oh I am. I’ll have a lot to do come morning.”

“So then—”

Yuri cupped Byleth’s face. “Because you work hard. And so do I. And there’s never going to be an end to it.”

Byleth swallowed, eyes not leaving Yuri’s. Moonlight spilled in through the window and turned Yuri’s hair into an aura, his gaze into sharpened amethyst.  

“The war is over, but there’s already another fight on our plate,” Yuri continued. “After that they’ll be something else to fight. I can already tell. There will always be someone or something left to fight. You’ll be in every major battle on the continent until the day you die, Byleth. The Church knows you’re useful, and they don’t let go of useful people easily. You have Claude’s trust. When he runs into trouble building his new world, who do you think he’s going to turn to?”

Fingers ghosted down Byleth’s neck. Yuri sheathed his gaze for a moment to follow the path of his hands. “It’s the same for me.” Never had Yuri’s voice sounded smaller. His fingers traveled back up and found a home in Byleth’s hair. “We’re the same. And I realized you don’t have to do it all alone.”

Byleth held Yuri by the wrists. “I don’t want you to do it alone anymore,” Byleth confessed. “I want to help you, Yuri. I want—”

A kiss cut him off. A slow kiss that Byleth didn’t try to resist. Yuri tilted Byleth’s head back, tongue roaming free, drawing a moan from Byleth. It would be so easy to just lay back and let this happen. Let Yuri kiss him into oblivion. But there was more to say.

“Yuri—”

“You’re not listening to me.” Yuri pressed his forehead to Byleth’s. “It doesn’t have to just be you helping me. Let me help you, friend. I want to take care of you.” He accented this with a roll of his hips. Something solid made brief contact with Byleth’s midriff and he let out a stuttered moan. “Goddess knows you deserve it.”

Byleth hands dropped to Yuri’s waist, trying to keep him still even as Yuri’s lips flit across the bridge of his nose. “B-But why?”

Yuri froze. He drew back, eyes softening with confusion. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to take care of me so badly?”

“Why—” Yuri’s lip quirked up. “Do you think I make out with everyone?”

 “No…”

“Do you think I make everyone in the army promise me they’ll come back alive? Do you see me dragging Claude back into the stables after chores? Or staring at Balthus while he trains?”

“No.” Byleth felt his face color. “So then—”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Yuri cupped Byleth’s face again, smirk firmly in place now. “Should I tell you exactly how precious you are to me or can I get to why I’m here in the first place?”

Byleth gulped. “We can— Yuri, you should know I’ve never… you know. Anything like this before.”

“Oh we’re not going to get far talking like that.”

Without warning, Yuri pushed Byleth back, pinning his wrists to the bed before he could react. It would be pathetic in any other circumstance— the Ashen Demon being held down in his own bed— but Yuri did it effortlessly, leaning down to speak directly in Byleth’s ear. “I said I’m going to take care of you. Anything you want, you’ll get. I’ll even stop if you like. But if you can’t even say the word sex, I don’t know if I can trust you to direct me.”

Byleth’s mind was spinning. Anything he wanted. Anything from Yuri. In truth he would take whatever Yuri felt like giving him— even just kissing as they had before would be satisfying. But… if this was truly what Yuri wanted to do…

And didn’t Byleth deserve it? To be doted on for once? 

“I’ve never had sex,” Byleth stated. He tried to will away his blush but Yuri kissed the apple of his cheek and Byleth felt his shame ebb. “I’ve never wanted to. Before now.” Byleth turned to catch Yuri’s lips, keeping the contact light so he could whisper, “Not before you.”

That seemed to be all Yuri needed to hear. He deepened the kiss, hands sliding off Byleth’s wrists to flit over his chest. Those skilled, confident, wonderful hands lingered over Byleth’s surgery scars before skimming lower, tracing old battle wounds and minding new bruises from Enbarr. 

“Tell me what you want,” Yuri said into Byleth. 

“Y-You.”

“Cute.” A chaste kiss. “Be more specific.” 

But words were growing difficult. Every touch was a new sensation. Every kiss left Byleth breathless. And Yuri was everywhere, it seemed. Overwhelming didn’t begin to describe it.

Byleth bucked his hips up, gasping when he felt Yuri’s length press against his crotch. Of course it only lasted a split second but by the grace of the Goddess Yuri seemed to understand. As Byleth flopped back to his bed, Yuri followed, moving against Byleth, the layers of clothing making it somehow more arousing.

Yuri chuckled. “If I may make a suggestion…” His fingers dipped into Byleth sleep pants. Eyes blown wide with pleasure met Byleth’s, waiting. Sothis bless this man. Byleth nodded vigorously. “Ah ah, use your words.”

“Please.”

“Better.” 

More heat crept into Byleth’s face as Yuri undressed him. Byleth couldn’t count the number of times he had stripped off blooded garments in the middle of camp, in full view of cooks and mercenaries and healers and officers. He was no stranger, even, to seeing Yuri pulling off his own clothes in favor tending to a wound directly.

Yet now, here, moonlight gliding over Yuri’s skin as he tugged off his own pants, Byleth felt himself swallow. His eyes trailed low and he swallowed again.

A finger under his chin made Byleth look up. Yuri kissed him— light, comforting, a reprieve from the tight coil in Byleth’s chest stuck between fight or flight. “Alright?” Yuri murmured.

“I’m alright.” Byleth sounded steadier than he imagined he would. Perhaps a little high, but steady. He drew confidence from that. “I don’t want penetration tonight.”

Yuri pulled back to nod. “Then what would you like?”

“Can you just…” Oh how to phrase this? “Um. I would like…”

“Hm?”

Byleth suddenly wanted nothing more than to reset to when they were just kissing. That was much less complicated. He didn’t know the right terms for this, he didn’t know what he wanted, he had never done this before—

“Hey, stay with me.”

At some point, Byleth had shut his eyes. He opened them now to find Yuri staring down at him with clear concern. For the first time, Yuri was frowning. “Do you want to stop?” Byleth bit his lip. Yuri let go of Byleth completely and began shifting away.

Byleth reached out to hold him secure. “No! No, don’t— I don’t want to stop.”

Yuri, knees still bracketing Byleth, ran a soothing hand over Byleth’s side. “Talk to me. Come on, friend, whatever you want, remember?”

Sucking in a lungful of air— air mixed with the scent of Yuri— Byleth said, “I want you a-against me.”

He waited for Yuri to call him cute again. To maybe say the correct term for the act, if there was one, or admonish Byleth for being too vague. 

Neither happened. Yuri simply nodded again and kissed Byleth, lowering himself until their cocks brushed together. Byleth gasped. Through clothing was absolutely nothing compared to—

“Like that?” Yuri prompted, thrusting slowly against Byleth.

“Just like that.” Byleth pulled Yuri to him, burying his face in Yuri’s neck and kissing there for good measure. “Yes, like that, yes.”

Yuri picked up the pace, letting Byleth pull him down to cover him completely, chests pressed together. One hand went down to hold Byleth’s legs open wider and Byleth whimpered, suddenly aware how wet he was. Yuri nipped at Byleth’s ear before asking, “Can you come like this?”

Only a handful of times had Byleth pleasured himself. And of those times he had only come a few. But this felt different— this sent sparks up Byleth’s spine and made him pant shamelessly against Yuri’s shoulder. If he had a heart, it would likely be beating out of his chest. “Yes,” Byleth groaned.

To his surprise, Yuri pushed himself up, hovering over Byleth once again. Still rutting against him, Yuri smirked. “I want to see your face. Make sure I know I did good by you.”

Byleth was trembling but he still forced out, “Y-You could never… never disappoint me, Yuri.”   

Another frown crossed Yuri’s face before he chased it off with a smirk. “Maybe not now but—”

Byleth reached out to cup Yuri’s cheek. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I just mean—”

“Anything I want, right?” Byleth fixed Yuri with a stern look he usually reserved for war meetings. “You said you’d give me anything I wanted. I want you to not talk like that.”

It was Yuri’s turn to swallow. He hesitated in his thrusts, covering Byleth’s hand with his own. After a moment, he shook his head, smile overtaking the smirk. “Of course. Apologies, friend.”

Byleth nodded and pulled Yuri back down for a kiss, tensing only when Yuri started moving again, trying to concentrate on mapping Yuri’s mouth. His hands pressed over the small of Yuri’s back, urging Yuri on and desperate for as much contact as possible. He wanted to feel all of Yuri. 

How could Byleth have ever been hesitant about this? It was Yuri, it was just his Yuri making Byleth feel so so good. 

It didn’t take long for Byleth to break the kiss with a shaky, “I-I’m close.”

Yuri lifted himself up again, inches from Byleth’s face. “I’ve got you. Let it happen.”

One final hard press of Yuri’s cock— and Byleth lost track of the world. A ringing echoed in his ears and he was only faintly aware of his mouth hanging open, head thrown back. Yuri’s voice became a hum that seemed to course through Byleth’s whole body. 

It took a few moments for Byleth to return to himself. Both his hands were bunched in the fabric of his blanket. Yuri had laid down beside him, red faced and gasping.

Byleth didn’t trust his body to respond properly yet. Everything felt like jelly, even his neck as he turned to look at Yuri. “D-D-Did you… do you need me to...?”

Yuri snickered, face half pressed into the bed. “I’m t-taken care of. No need to worry yourself.” He lifted himself on his elbows to reveal a damp spot on the blanket. Byleth was sure his side of the bed didn’t look much better, but looking would require effort. 

As if sensing his reluctance, Yuri shuffled closer to throw one arm over Byleth, nuzzling into his neck. Byleth was just able to wrap an arm around Yuri. “That was…” Once again, Byleth found words a challenge. With a sigh, Byleth kissed Yuri’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Yuri hummed and curled into Byleth’s side. “You’re welcome.”

Outside, the moon rose still higher in the sky, stars twinkling peacefully over Garreg Mach. Byleth relished at being exhausted by something other than battle or planning or marching. And it didn’t take much to let himself drift off to sleep, holding Yuri secure— unable to come up with a good reason to ever let him go.