#appropriate first shiny i think

[thief-of-eggs]

I think, given his… erm, past, that Alastor would view murder as an appropriate form of showing affection.

He does it for all the hotel inhabitants. Everyone who starts to grow on him, who’s wellbeing he begins to care about, despite himself.

It happens with Charlie first. A sinner out on the streets talks a little too poorly about her and her hotel, her dreams, her ideas. She hears and it brings her down for only a moment (she always was one to recover quickly) but the short moment is enough for Alastor.

They find the sinner’s body impaled on the wrought iron fence the next morning. No one fully understands why Alastor seems particularly giddy about it.

The next time, it’s Angel. A client sees him outside of work, and seems to forget that he isn’t owed time he doesn’t pay for. Alastor’s shadow grows behind him, and after steering Angel and the others away, Alaator guides the man down a darkened alley.

He eats the man whole, enlarging his head to do so. He returns to the others with the man’s shiny golden tooth, which he’d spit out after devouring him, and he drops onto Angel’s hand without an explanation.

For Lucifer, it’s a bit more subtle, or at least harder to detect. Because Lucifer didn’t even know that the bodies he’s constantly finding outside his room belonged to individuals who’d once mocked his name. He hadn’t known that they’d belittled him, called him weak, called him a coward.

Alastor knew. Which is why, one by one, he picks them off. His memory is carved from stone, and he remembers each and every greatest offender.

And what better place to leave his kill than at Lucifer’s door? Like a cat presenting his master with a caught mouse, he brings his trophies back to Lucifer, depositing them where he is sure to find them and be proud.

Eventually, everyone figures it out- Alastor was never hiding it, but the others didn’t know to look for it either. They piece together that all it takes is an insult in front of Alastor, and suddenly the offender is missing, or perhaps they come across their body shortly after. Death is so common in Hell, that it takes them a while to get it.

When confronted he’ll shrug and hum, offering a half hearted wave of his hand. “I’m just doing my civic duty as patron of this hotel” he says, casually examining his claws.

No one really knows what to say. They are not used to love that is so vicious, so violent. So damning. Red paints not only Alastor’s heart but also his hands, staining him further with every act of affection.

It’s all he knows. The only way he understands to express his indebtedness to the others, the only way to carve out a bit of himself and present itself to the others for them to adore.

It’s unconventional, but so is everything that Alastor ever does.

And for the others… Well. In a place like Hell-? It’s not exactly a bad way to receive love, so long as it keeps them all safe.

[mechaprincessgirlgutsgore0]

You move into a new apartment and your roommate is a synth. She’s been on nanobot HRT for 8 years now and is fully mechanised. She goes to the mechanic for checkups, she plugs herself into charge every night, and she has to keep her lubricant, hydraulic fluid and coolant topped up. On top of all this, she’s 5 years older than you and beautiful, so you’re a little bit in love but you don’t want to make it weird.

you two make friends quickly. you have a lot of shared interests, and a similar sense of humor. before becoming a synth she loved cooking, so as a token of your friendship she insists on making food for you. as a cash-strapped young professional in the city, you take it, of course.

as the weeks pass you find yourself getting closer to her. you two really get along, and as you settle into living together, you become more emotionally open to her. sometimes you even help her with minor repairs.

after a few months you notice some things start to feel off. was your skin always this hard and shiny? did your knees and shoulders always make these strange noises? did your body always generate this much heat in those places?

sometimes you almost feel like your brain is rewiring itself — i mean, they do say that your frontal lobe develops throughout your early twenties. it’s probably not a big deal.

at some point your bedframe breaks. you try resting on your mattress on the floor for a few nights, but sleeplessness on top of a developing general fatigue is wearing you down.

your roommate suggests sleeping in her bed. you’re taken aback at the offer at first— i mean, really? are you sure you’d be okay with that? she insists she doesn’t mind, and with your head spinning from tiredness and embarrassment you follow her to the bedroom.

there you have the best night’s sleep of your life. at first you try and stay apart in the bed, but she keeps encouraging you to come closer. she wraps a hard plastic arm around your chest, and you blush. is this what love feels like? she whispers in your ear. “goodnight, babe~”. it feels strangely appropriate coming out of her mouth.

in the morning you feel fully recharged and refreshed, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. from now on you sleep in her bed. you keep getting closer to each other. she grips your thigh while you sleep. she starts playing with your pussy. you don’t ask her to do any of this, but you let her. it just feels right.

something seriously seems up with your body at this point. your skin is as hard as rock, and begins developing strange patterns of ridges around your body. your movements feel stiff, yet more precise. your vision seems almost superhuman, yet your taste and smell have almost disappeared altogether.

one night she asks if you’d like to have sex. for real, this time. you’ve talked about kinks before. she offers to dom, and you’re happy with that. nervously, you ask to be tied up. she smiles wryly. “sure thing. but I can do you one better. you’ll see.” what could she possibly mean?

as you relax on the bed waiting for her, you look over to the nightstand. a couple of toys, along with an assortment of screwdrivers, wire cutters and a prybar. something isn’t adding up. before you have time to think, she walks in, and straddles your thighs.

“now, sweetie, before we start there’s something you should know about~”

she takes a screwdriver from the nightstand. before you even have time to react, she jabs it below your belly button. you wince and brace for a sharp jab of pain, but it does not come. instead, you watch in horror as the screwdriver digs beneath your hardened skin, prising the strange ridge apart. she twists the screwdriver upwards, popping the panel cleanly off your body, to reveal a tangled mess of cables, circuitboards and modules, dappled in a pattern of flashing LEDs.

“hmm… well, I’m proud of my work, if you’re not. you make a very pretty sexbot. there’s just a few things that will need adjusting~” She says, while reaching for your new chest cavity. Instinctively, your arms jolt to block her from messing with your internals.

“Hey-hey-hey now… calm down, my little toy, there’s no need to be so defensive… if you’re going to be like that, i might as well~” she moves her hands to grab your upper arms, and squeezes next to a seam. you feel a mechanism click, and your arms slide neatly out of their sockets.

“there we go. let’s be a good little machine, now.” she reaches down to your crotch, and thrusts two fingers in. but, instead of massaging your insides, she goes deeper, until you feel another click, and your crotch slides out like another replaceable module. you moan softly as she pulls out, her fingers dripping with synthetic lubricant.

“just one last thing~” she says, staring you in the eyes lovingly. her dexterous hands move up to hold the side of your face. she feels around for something, until finally trying to prise her fingers beneath a seam next to your ear. you feel another click, and your plastic face plate slides out of its socket.

“We won’t be needing that anymore. Not if I need to replace your mouth hardware, which, I will, of course… you’d be a terrible kisser otherwise!

Now, what to do with you. I can’t just let you back out into the world, not now that you know what you’ve become… that won’t do. You wouldn’t like that, would you, machine?

Instead I could turn you into a dumb little sexbot. slow down your processor, tune up your sensors… wouldn’t that be nice?

Just as long as you’re not naughty~ otherwise I’d have to sell you, or scrap you for parts. there’s a lot of valuable components inside you, you know that? you’re much more of an asset than you realise.

Let’s get your throat lubricant injectors fitted for now… there’s a lot more that needs doing, but I just have to see you dressed up in this bunnysuit and fucked to pieces… you’d like that, sexbot, wouldn’t you?”

[juniperskye]

The Set Up.

Sneak peek: based on the following request: Aaron and the reader are secretly married, and the team try to set them up together (obviously not knowing they are married) and they go on their date that the team set up and they enjoy it and the next day they tell the team that they are married. - I changed it a little bit but I hope you like it!

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Fluff

Word count: 1878

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap (kinda?), secret relationship, mentions of canon typical violence, some language, team members meddling. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The team had been immediately aware of the difference in Hotch’s demeanor when you joined the BAU. You had been bright and shiny, straight out of the FBI academy and you’d had an impressive resume. In all seriousness, Hotch had chosen you to join the team prior to reading your name or date of birth. So, when you arrived with that twinkle in your eye and a hunger to make the world a better place, he knew he needed to protect you that for as long as he could.

Dave was the first one to mention the elephant in the room to Hotch. It had been about six months since you had joined the team. He had cornered Hotch at the coffee maker and outright asked him.

“Do you have feelings for her?”

“Dave that is not an appropriate question and this is certainly not the place for it.” Hotch shook his head, walking away.

Of course he had feelings for you, how could he not? You had been sweet and gentle, and you hadn’t let the horrors of the job harden you. Which is exactly why Hotch had asked you on a date two weeks prior, you had been out a few times since then, but Hotch couldn’t let Dave know. What if it didn’t work out? What if it got out and the bureau reprimand you both? What if it got out and you were targeted because of him?

Those are all the reasons he continued to use as an excuse for keeping your relationship under wraps. It’s been two years, and since then the two of you had become serious, moved in, got married, and were now talking about expanding your family…which of course led to a more intensive conversation of telling the bureau and more importantly the team of your relationship.

On the other hand, Penelope had been working endlessly to set you up with an eligible bachelor she knew, and after many failed attempts and a drunken night out with the girls, Emily had outed the crush you had on Hotch. If only they knew. That was the beginning of the schemes – the team was doing everything in their power to set the two of you up.

They had sent you undercover as a couple more than once, constantly partnered the two of you up on cases, made sure to take all the seats on the plane so you’d be forced to sit next to one another, and left you two to share rooms when it was needed on cases. The two of you found it humorous given that you’d already been doing all those things in secrecy.

It had been a pretty quiet day, you all had been catching up on paperwork, when the girls approached you and unbeknownst to you, the guys approached Aaron. That evening while cooking dinner you and Aaron would share nearly identical stories.

They approached me about a blind date. They said that it was scheduled for Friday at 7pm at Fredrich’s. To look for the

Woman in red and that I should wear gray.

Man in gray and that I should wear red.

At that point the two of you looked at one another and laughed. The team had set you up on a blind date with one another. You both agreed to play into the team’s plan and go on the “blind” dates they were setting you up on.

The rest of week went on slowly, but once Friday came around, the girls couldn’t contain their excitement for you. Emily had reassured you that the guy she set you up with was nothing if not a gentleman.

Morgan had made sure to stop by Hotch’s office and remind him of his date.

“Don’t leave this girl hanging man. She’s a great girl.” Morgan scolded.

“I will be there; you have nothing to worry about.” Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he thought of you.

You’d left work at 5:00 on the dot and went straight home to get ready. Aaron left at 6:15 and adjusted his attire, he removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt.

“Hey sweetheart” his hands made their way around your waist “you look incredible.” Aaron placed a desperate kiss on your neck.

“Aaron, we should really be going!” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

You headed to the restaurant, excited to be out on a date, it had been a while since you had been out for dinner together, with work being so busy. When you arrived at Fredrich’s, Aaron pulled up out front and made his way around to your door. After assisting you out of the car, he handed his keys to the valet and led you inside.

As you made your way inside to the hostess stand you looked around the restaurant. Taking in your surroundings you were quick to notice a gentleman sitting alone at a table for two wearing none other than, a gray suit.  As you were waiting for the hostess to seat you, a woman entered the restaurant accidentally bumping your arm.  At the disruption Aaron glanced in your direction and took note of the color of the woman's dress…it was red.

 Aaron and you shared a look, one that was filled with acknowledgment and laced with a little bit of humor.  When the hostess looked up at you, Aaron gestured for the woman to go first she mentioned to the hostess that she was meeting someone, and he was meant to be wearing gray. The hostess nodded and said he got there just a few moments ago and directed the woman to the table with the man in gray, sitting alone.

When she returned you asked for a table for two and were directed to a small booth in the back corner. You couldn't help the scoff that escaped you looking over to Aaron in utter disbelief.

“I can't believe this…”  you shook your head “they have been trying to get us together for months and they set us up on these blind dates, with random people at the same place this doesn't make any sense.” You finished.

“Do you think maybe they thought that if we saw each other out with other people that we'd come to our senses and ask one another out?” Aaron inquired.

“I mean maybe, I guess they thought that we'd either end up with one another because we couldn't stand the thought of each other with someone else or they thought that we'd end up matching well with the people they set us up with. Either way I think it might be time to let them in on our little secret.” You suggested.

“Yeah, I think perhaps you're right.” Aaron agreed.

Throughout the rest of the evening, you and Aaron shared a wonderful dinner and couldn't help but peek over at the couple that was set up by pure accident.  It made you smile at how well they appeared to be hitting it off and if anything could come of this night you were glad it could be new love for two people deserving of it.

When you and Aaron arrived home that evening you decided to discuss how you would break the news to the team that you'd actually been together, married in fact. You knew it would be hard especially with how close you were with them, Penelope would for sure be the most upset, given that you'd have had a wedding that she wasn't invited to.

Monday morning Aaron and you woke up, got dressed (unintentionally coordinating I might add) and for the first time, drove to work together. You walked in the building together hand in hand, with the hope that your team would be accepting.  Unsurprisingly the first person to notice was Morgan, he had been sitting on Emily's desk and looked over as soon as you two entered the room.

You couldn't tell what they were more shocked about as eyes made their way to you. Was it the fact that this is the latest Aaron had arrived to work since he started at the BAU or was it the fact that you were so openly partaking in PDA. Naturally you were bombarded with questions like; how long you have been together, when you got together, what the relationship status was, if Dave has secretly known the whole time, they all were tossed at you with ferocity. But in the middle of all those questions Emily posed a rather important one, 

“If you two are together, what happened on your dates last night and why did you even agree to go on them?”

“Well, we've been together for quite a while and when we went home the other night, we had shared the information of the blind dates you guys were setting us up on and when we both had the story of me wearing red and him wearing Gray we sort of thought you guys were trying to set us up together.” You explained, “So color us surprised when we got to the restaurant at the same time as a woman in red who was looking for a man in gray.”

“Wait, but what about Mary? Hotch I told you not to leave her hanging, she's a good girl and I've known her a long time.” Morgan warned.

“And what about Ethan, he texted me this weekend saying how great the date went?” Emily questioned.

“Well, we let the hostess escort the girl in the red dress to the guy in the gray suit. So, Ethan and Mary went on a date together. While we enjoyed a much-needed date night.” Aaron clarified.

There was chatter amongst the team trying to break down the information they had just received from the two of you. You could tell they were still confused on some of the details, especially that of yours and Aaron's relationship. You looked at Aaron with pleading eyes, which he returned with a curt nod. The two of you thought it best to explain the situation to everyone.

“I guess we should probably explain ourselves. We have been married for about eight months. We have been together for nearly two years. I know that that probably comes as a shock but given everything we've gone through working here we do hope that you'll understand. our secrecy wasn't because we don't trust you, it was simply to keep one another safe as well as avoid any sort of reprimand from the director.” You informed.

You could tell the team was a combination of many emotions seeing them all flash across their faces, emotions like hurt, understanding, shock, but the most surprising was the love and care that ended on all of the faces in front of you. You couldn't be more appreciative of the people standing before you.

The blind date story was one that the team would go on to tell in many ways; to your future children of how they found out their parents were together, in Dave's best man speech at your vow renewal, and in simple jokes in passing. At the end of the day the team couldn't be happier that the two of you got your happy ending. Together.

[prettyboykatsuki]

i don’t go here often but the weird tension and watching porn together and……………. and bakugou………….

✮ tags ; parts r left vague in detail (so u can imagine tdick or other), masc!reader, gay sex, jerking off in the same room, frotting, reader is a crass jackass, dubcon-ish (bkg is into it he's stubborn tho) stupid hent tropes, premature ejaculation on bkgs end.

✮ a/n ; merc this literally possessed me KJDSHFKJSD.

"The fuck do you mean you don't jerk off?"

Bakugou flushes, throwing a pillow at you from the other side of the couch. You can't understand what he's saying to save your life.

"Fuck you. It's not that weird."

You give him a disbelieving look. "No, it definitely is. You don't like... watch porn?"

He makes a face at you that you can't identify. "No? I just like take care of it in the shower. If I get like morning wood or whatever."

"You only jerk off if you have morning wood?!"

A blush spreads up his neck, all the way to his ears. There's little sparks in the palms of his hands that make you snort. "It's not weird!"

"We're living different lives," You reply,without skipping a beat. "If I don't rub one out like. Twice a day at least, my dick will explode."

His face crinkles up with disgust. "Are you a fucking animal?"

"Dude, twice is nothing."

He doesn't have anything to say to that. You think on his situation for a while before a shit-eating grin spreads on your face. "You know what? I think I can fix you."

"Fuck do you mean fix me? There's nothing to fix, I'm going to kill you."

"Hold on," You ignore him, reaching around the arm of the couch for your backpack nearest the table. You grab your laptop and take it out of it's nice, blue sleeve - opening it up. Some short clicking sounds in the room before you set it on the coffee table in front of you both. "Here we are."

There's thumbnails of obscenities upon obscenities upon your screen - all with varying appropriate titles and run times. You look at him triumphantly, like a proud crow with shiny trinkets. Bakugou looks at you with complete disdain and disgust.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Don't be rude," You reply, not skipping a beat. "I'm offering you my curated, high quality porn stash without charge. This is the good stuff. You have to go to like... the sixth page of the internet for this quality. All HD."

"You're a fucking degenerate."

You grin. "I'm a connoisseur." You pause a bit, scrolling through your collection before glancing at him. "You got a type? Like in chicks."

"No," He says flatly, then looks at you. "Do you?"

You think on it before grinning. "Blondes."

He blushes at that. You scroll to the bottom of the first page and find your favorite video. It's a little vintage, but the main actress is a pretty blonde with a nice rack. It's NTR, plenty debauched. You click on it, setting the laptop back in view of you both before. Bakugou throws you a distressed look. "The fuck are you doing?"

"Changing your life, man. You're like a brother to me."

"And your show of brotherhood is watching fucking porn together? Don't be disgusting."

"It's not disgusting, come on. Don't be rude. This actress is super hot and this clip is hard to find. Show some gratitude."

"I'm going to leave." He threatens. You shrug.

"I'll have fun jerking off in your living room." You reply back. That keeps him glued to his seat.

The video starts playing after the intro. It's a pretty typical set-up for porn. A lonely, neglected housewife cheating on her husband with the plumber. It's nasty right from the jump though, not much emphasis on panty-shots and build up. They get straight to business in the first ten minutes of the film. You've seen it plenty by now, but your eyes remain in trance anyway. The actress is a natural beauty. A pretty face, short-blonde hair, and nice chest with pretty nipples.

Your breath hitches, something stirring underneath your waistband. She plays prickly in the film, all for show of course - but it makes the pay off way better. It's hot seeing her get corrupted.

You almost forget about Bakugou next to you until he whispers to you, low and offensive. "The hell are you doing?"

He must be referring to the hand unbuttoning your jeans. "What do you think?"

He makes a noise of protest, but ultimately can't stop you. You're hard. Always does the job this one, but you feel another layer of arousal feeling a gazed fixed on you. You glance at Bakugou, noticing a pillow over his lap and a blush over his face and grin. You think it's probably just your dick talking. The situation is so fucking obscene though.

You wonder what Bakguou sounds like when he moans. They look similar, him and the actress. Chest might be the same size, too. You let off a soft laugh. "Don't be shy on my account."

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

You make a face, lazy and lidded eyes meeting his. "You want to? Dunno if you've got any lube around to make it happen though, since you're such a priss."

His eyes go wide, pinched expression suddenly twisted with anger. He goes to cuss at you again but you beat him to the punch.

"Hey. Wanna jerk off together?"

You didn't think he could look more shocked if he tried. You snicker. "It'll feel better than humping the pillow like you are right now."

"I'm not fucking humping it."

"Right. D'ya wanna?"

He clearly thinks about it, which makes you laugh. The whole situation is making your head spin. You think it'd feel good to rub against him at least. You've never done anything like that with another guy though, but Bakugou is so pretty - can't be sure it counts. You get fed up with his waiting after a minute, scooting closer and circling in. He backs up against one arm of the couch as you crowd infront of him - stood on your knees on either side of his thighs. The angle is perfect to get your dicks to touch with some effort. He makes a choked sound in the back of his throat as you gingerly move the pillow.

You pull his sweats down as well as your jeans and press the tips of your cocks together - spitting into your hand to make the tips both wet. Bakugou gasps, groaning in the back of his throat. Humiliated, he pulls back and looks at you. He's pissed, feral.

Weirdly, you think he's kind of sexy right now. You leaned down to kiss him, and he tries to pull away. You grip your hand in his hair and force him to kiss you - all teeth and tongue. He pulls back with a flush.

"Fuck," You groan, rutting up against him - your whole body shuddering and pulsating from the sensation of his dick. Hot and velvet, making your body twitch. "You're kinda sexy."

"Shut up," He replies, no real bite when his voice is so blown out with lust. "We're not even watching the porn anymore, dipshit."

"Guess not," You reply, rubbing against him again. He moans aloud, pleasing you. "You're way sexier than that."

His dick twitches in response to that. "Shut up,"

"Might be bad if I get addicted to this," You reply, sweat dripping down the crown of your head as your hips follow their own rhythm. "Let's cum together. C'mon."

He frowns at you before craning his neck up to push another kiss to your mouth. You shudder as you feel him cum against your fingers from that, laughing in amusement.

You were joking about being addicted, but you can't be sure. Not anymore, at least.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Lord Choso Kamo.

Synopsis: bridgerton au- 22 yrs old nd have yet to marry, only to be set up in an arranged marriage to Choso ^-^

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor readers appearance, Choso is 26, enemies (on one side) to lovers, reader is sharp tongued and stubborn, plotttttt booooo, just a niche fic I couldnt stop thinking about ^-^, catered for a very specific audience, if you get it- YOU GET IT.

Presented to society at seven and ten. One of the many young potential brides. 

You had asked your mother to allow you to wait a few years- focus on your studies instead of marrying you off. As lacking in presence as your father was, even he said, ‘Absolutely not.’

The first year had a handful of potential husbands. But none of them could nack your witty remarks towards them. Causing your second year to have an even less amount of suitors.

The second year, you were already deemed a spinster by your parents. Attending balls and only sitting on the sidelines in the very same gowns you've worn before- only ever seeing it as a meaningless affair. Only present to watch the other young ladies receive marriage offers before you did. 

By the time you were two and twenty, your mother and father saw you and saw a sort of disappointment. An only child- raised and trained for marriage- and refusing to let go of the silly notion of going through life unmarried. 

They blamed you- but in reality it was a mix of their inability to keep up with the fashions of the seasons. Having to re-wear dresses didn’t help you in the situation either. That and the lack of an eye-catching dowry. Seemed as though no man wanted to marry a woman with a mere four figure dowry, no matter how beautiful. 

One afternoon, as you read a book in the drawing room, you sat on the couch lazily, wearing a day dress that you deemed obsolete—dressing up for no one but the servants and your mother. 

And your mama spouting- “I do not know why you insist on filling your mind with nonsense.” Pacing back and forth a few feet from you. 

Causing you to lower your book and look at her with pursed lips. “It is not nonsense, mama,” you snipped, lining up your eyes with the words again. “It is Shakespeare.” you muttered, a small smile curling on your lips at the look on your mother’s face. 

She was about to start speaking again- only your father walked into the room with an unaccustomed smile on his lips. Almost exasperated, “And what is it you have to smile about, my lord?” your mother scoffed, sitting on the couch across from you with a sigh. 

“I have found a proper suitor for your daughter,” he said, causing your shoulders to tense and your book to lower in disbelief. 

“I am your daughter as well- father.” you scoffed. Lightly pinching the bridge of your nose and sitting up. 

The gleam that shone on your mother’s eyes was one you hoped you’d never see. “Who?” she asked, breathless and eager to see who would finally take you from their hands. 

Your father flashed his eyes to you, almost worried for the words that dared spill from his lips- “The lord Kamo.” 

You closed your eyes with a soft sigh. You had been appropriately raised to not talk back to your father, but the vein that pulsed in your mind when he said that name almost made you snap at him. 

Lord Choso Kamo. 

To others, just another lord without a bright and shiny title. Firstborn son and heir of the Kamo name, his mother gave birth to 8 more boys- all one year apart. And on the eighth, his mother died. 

His father remarried within the year, speculated with a woman he had an affair with when his mother was still alive. Giving Choso one last little brother. 

And to you, three years your senior. Choso was a playful child growing up. Chasing you around- stepping on your shoes and stealing your ribbons at the various balls you would attend with your mother. 

But somewhere around the time his father died, he became more serious. Now head of the Kamo family at a mere five and ten, he grew taller and more serious-faced. And no longer picked fun at you, nor chased you around. If anything, he ignored you. 

Even as a child, you had developed a special kind of disdain towards him. Seeing him as an ill-raised boy, blamed for his misdeeds by your mother. “But mama- he is the one who chases me!” you would defend when she would pull you away by the arm. 

And in your teen years- you would avoid him like a plague. Holding your head high as your eyes looked over at him- his eyebrows, thick and furrowed with severe eyes scanning the ballroom. 

You disliked Choso not only for his actions as a child but also because he had a dismissive aura when it came to these balls—and when it came to you now, apparently. Far too mature and busy to even hold a conversation with you now. 

Only once when you were four and ten did you approach him. Standing much taller than you at seven and ten, hands behind his back with a stern look in his eye.

Choso stood near the far wall of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the lively room for his little brothers. To make sure they did not stain his legacy even further than his father had. 

“I think you owe me a dance, my lord,” you spoke, standing beside him but not bothering to look over at him, dressed in a dark plum suit, a color he had taken a liking to at his coming of age.

His face churned in confusion, “Owe you a dance? Whatever for.” he spoke- improper and uncaring of this supposed debt you imposed onto him. 

“For stealing my ribbons and stepping on my shoes.” tilting your head slightly, so sure you were correct. 

He only scoffed, walking away from you and collecting his rowling brother. 

Choso’s coldness against you was upsetting. Not because you wanted his friendship but because of how improper and indifferent he was when it came to you. Not even bidding a goodbye before walking off.

In the third year you were on the market, you stood beside him once more—you, freshly twenty, and he, three and twenty. Thinking if no other man would have you, who was the Lord to deny you?

It was not as though he was the worst man of the bunch. A decent name, a decent fortune- and a better-looking face than most suitors. His only flaw was how standoffish he could be and how improper he was with you.

Yet still. You gave the man one last chance.

“You still owe me a dance, my Lord,” you spoke, watching the people dance at the center of the room. Choso looked over to you, quickly scanning the light pink gown you wore that evening, surely to attract a suitor.

Your gaze caught the bags below his eyes, a side effect of the late nights spent in his study with only candlelight illuminating the mess of books his late father left him. And his long hair tied back, giving you an unobstructed view of his strong jaw.

“Should you not be looking for a husband?” he spewed, looking back at the dancing crowd and lightly widening his eyes. Unable to see the youngest sibling he was watching. 

You let out an unamused laugh, “That is what I am doing, is it not?” looking over at him with a pleased expression. 

“No, you are talking to me-” he murmured. Walking off and trying to find the pink-haired sibling with a penchant for wandering off. 

After that, you swore never to speak to him again. There was a spark of hatred in your heart when you saw his stupid, serious face at the balls. And when his eyes caught on yours, you would look away, uncaring if people saw. If anything, you wanted people to see your dislike for that brinking-on beastly man. 

So when your father said that he- Lord Choso Kamo was to be your husband, you almost hemorrhaged on the spot. 

You did not speak to your father for three days and two nights. At the dinner table, you stayed silent. Picking at your food and avoidant of any conversation. And your mother held more than enough excitement for you both. Planning the flowers, the gown- all before the Lord even proposed. 

And when your father grew tired of your silence- he shouted at you to speak. 

You bowed your head, tears in your eyes—“Please,” you said in a tone of voice you had not used since you were a girl. Peering your eyes up at him, full of salt water and a weary lip. You said, “Please, do not make me marry that man, father.” 

Though your papa was generally uncaring when it came to what you felt. The way you looked at him- he saw a glimmer of his little girl in your eyes. The same little girl that would cling to his leg, scared of the strangers he would present her to. 

Your father took your hands in his- and you were so sure he would call it off. 

“I will allow you a two-week courting period.” He whispered, watching the tears spill from your eyes. “You must marry him,” he spoke your name softly. 

It wasn’t until the following day you heard your father speaking to your mother- the stoic man practically in shambles at the thought of using his only daughter as a form of paying his debts. 

Before the late Lord Kamo passed, your father owed him a substantial amount of money. A debt your father was still unsure how he would pay. And the news of Choso’s father's death washed over your papa as a wave of relief.

So when a six and twenty-year-old Lord Kamo wrote to your father- something along the lines of; ‘I have in my late father’s books that you owed him an undisclosed sum of money. I would like to discuss this face to face-’

Your father thought up a million things—selling off the silverware, the dresses, and letting go of the staff—but it didn’t amount to half as much as he owed. 

So when your father met up with the young Lord Kamo at a gentleman's club, he was far too inebriated. Drinking to fill the uncomfortability he felt with the severity Choso imbued in his words. 

“It is my understanding you have yet to marry?” your father spoke- glass half empty in his hand as he looked at the brown-haired man before him. 

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the drunk man and squinting. “I have yet to.” 

“Then the matter is settled. You may have—*hic* My daughter,” he said, thralling his arm around Choso’s shoulder with a happy smile. “She is well-read. And you have been friends since youth, have you not?” 

Choso parted his lips to speak—“Phenomenal!” your father said, “We will discuss the technicalities later,” ending the conversation and continuing to another topic. 

In Choso’s mind, he knew the impending task of finding a wife had run at him at full speed. And rather than slotting through the many carefully primped young ladies, Choso found peace in knowing if he should have to marry, let it at least be you who he does. 

The least objectionable option. Finding it revolting how the many mamas would peddle their overly young daughters to grown men. Be it you- three years his junior and knowing you far better than he would know any of them. 

And when your mother advised you that the Lord Kamo had asked to see you- you felt a pool of nerves and unease form in your tummy. Knowing that the two-week period your father had granted you, would begin the minute, he would come see you. 

Your mother mulled over what you were to wear when he would visit. Trying to find the best option- an option that would make your beauty distracting enough to ignore your sharp tongue. 

“Mama, I’ve already told you- he is not interested in marriage” you insisted- your mother ordering you to hold a dress against your body. 

“Hush up.” she insisted, causing you to sigh. 

Tossing a light pink chiffon gown onto your bed- “I have known him since I was a child- mama, he knows what I am like.” sitting onto your bed with a scoff, “A frilly gown I’ve worn before won’t change his opinion on me.” 

Your mother shouted your name- “Your father has said that he already agreed- mouthy and far too mature as you are. Lord Kamo has agreed to marry you.” she insisted. Making your mind reel at the possibility that he only agreed to vex you, knowing him.

As your ladies maid fixed your hair- looking into the mirror and thinking of your foiled plans. Plans that had been entirely derailed simply because the Lord said ‘yes’ to marrying you. 

And as you sat in the drawing room- back slouched and a bored look on your face. Your mother did not hesitate to slap your back when the footman walked in “The Lord Kamo, to see you- my lady.” he directed at you. 

Straightening your back- fixing your face as you watched the man stand at the doorway. Flowers in hand and with his hair pushed behind his ears. Unfurrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes looking at you. 

You rose to your feet, “My lord.” you exasperated, lowering in a half-assed curtsey as he slightly bowed. 

“My lady.” he spoke- almost unsure and far too formal for the relationship you had with him. 

You clenched your jaw looking at him- your mother leaning to your ear, “Be kind, and smile.” she instructed through clenched teeth. Sitting at a tea table a few paces from the couch you were sitting on. 

Choso took a step towards you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he mumbled- yet another thing you disliked about him. He spoke unclear words far too often. 

You plastered a false smile on your lips, reaching for them- “Thank you. My lord.” dropping the smile and holding them out for your ladies’ maid to take them. Thinking of a snide comment, only laughing softly to yourself at- ‘make sure to leave them in the sun till next week.’ you said in your mind. 

“Did I say something funny?” he asked- watching you sit onto the couch and following you. 

You eased your expression. “No, unfortunately you didn’t.” you spit. Hearing a slight cough come from your mother, reminding you to be kind.

Choso parted his lips to speak- “May I ask you why you agreed to marry me?” you interrupted- a hushed tone so your mother would not scold you. Eyebrows stern and determined to know his reasonings. 

The Lord squinted his eyes slightly with a furrowed brow. “I have yet to ask for your hand?” he queried- as though you had the answers that you, yourself, were looking for. 

“My father says you agreed to marry me in two weeks.” deadpan face looking at his confused one. 

The corner of the Lord’s lip curled, “Your father was drunk when he struck that deal.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked off to the side. “So you do not wish to marry me.” you stated rather than asked. So eager to hear the words- ‘I do not want to marry you.’

“I did not say that.” 

You almost groaned in frustration at his words. Only your twitchy eye went unnoticed by the man sitting before you. “Then?” you pressed, pursed lips and squinty eyes awaiting his declaration- or an excuse. 

“I am reaching the age to take a bride.” he started, bordering on a mumble that only frustrated you even more. 

“And why not take on a well-behaved child bride-”

Choso’s expression churned in a flash of disgust. “I did not choose you,” he spoke your name in a whisper. Improper as ever- not even using your family name with a simple ‘miss’ before it. 

You blinked harshly at your name callously spoken as though you were already wed. 

“Your father offered-”

“And you accepted.” 

“Because I have known you since I was a boy.” he defended, “I found marrying you to be simpler than carding through the many eligible young-” you sighed at his droning on. Giving you every excuse besides the one you wanted to hear. 

“You also said 'yes' to this union, did you not?” he asked. You looked off to the side, scoffing at his assumption. 

Intertwining your fingers together and pursing your lips, “This union is everyone’s choice but mine.” you muttered. Looking down to your hands with a frustrated look on your face. 

Choso called your name again- this time in worry. Making the vein in your temple pulse from his improper tendencies. “If you do not want to marry- I will not force you to.” 

“You do not know a thing.” you spouted, causing your mother to look up from the embroidery cloth to see why you were seething in your words. And Choso only smiled at your mother, assuring her it was okay. 

Clearing your throat- standing from the couch and urging him to do the same. “I think it’s time for you to take your leave, my lord.” You spoke- hearing your mother stand. 

“Can’t you stay for tea?” she asked- only for Choso to look at you. Mouthing a soft ‘No,’ instructing him to assure your mother that was not necessary. 

The next time Choso saw you was at a ball. You stood near a wall, a pondering look on your face, an unsipped glass of lemonade in hand, and an empty dance card on your wrist. 

Looking off as though you were physically here- but your mind was elsewhere. 

The Lord came up to you for the first time since he was seven. Calling your name in a mutter and pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Yes, my lord?” you spoke- refusing to turn and look at him. 

He inhaled sharply, “Have you thought more on-”

“It is all I think about these days.” 

Choso tried thinking back on the lessons he was taught as a boy- how to approach a lady and how to ask for a dance. 

He parted his lips to speak- “What is it you want, my lord?” you asked, interrupting his attempts to communicate with your tone bordered on frustration. 

“I owe you a dance, do I not,” speaking your name with the same thoughtlessness as he always held. You sighed, placing your glass on the table beside you. 

Looking over at him with a peaked brow, “Why is it now you want to dance? Not once have you ever shown interest before.” 

He scoffed softly, “I aim to court you- dancing is part of it, is it not?”

You let out an unamused laugh, “If dancing meant courting- you declined that proposition long ago, my lord.” taking a sarcastic tone, holding your head high as he furrowed his eyebrows. 

Unknowing what you were talking about, Choso squinted his eyes. “Why do you speak to me in that tone?” he looked over at you, trying to recall if he had insulted you or even done something to warrant your curt behavior. 

You sighed harshly, bored of this conversation- and irritated that Choso had the guts to ask that. “My mother is summoning me-” Trying to find an escape from this conversation; you chose to lie. 

Turning to face him, pursed lips and your jaw slightly clenched, “Good evening, my lord.” you spat, his eyes widening and scoffing. 

As you turned to walk away, he called your name- loud enough for more than enough people to turn their heads to the source. Seeing you still in Choso's presence, his face troubled as he looked at the back of your head. 

The control you had in not turning around and snapping at the man, was control you weren’t sure you held. You only breathed in a small breath and continued your steps, hearing the Lord step behind you as you walked out of the ballroom. 

Nodding your head 'no' as you stepped onto the terrace- breathing in the crisp evening air and clenching your jaw. Your name was spoken again, in the same uncaring tone he always held when he referred to you. 

“If I have done something to offend you-” You turned around swiftly, angered by the face before you and your eye threatening to twitch. 

“If? If you have done something?” you scoffed, finding it unbelievable that he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Choso turned his head, awaiting your explanation as your gloved hands balled into fists at your side.  

Choso parted his lips to speak, your name falling from his lips carelessly, making you even more upset. “Please, tell me if I have done something wrong.” The urgency in his tone fell on deaf ears. 

“I do not wish to speak of this any longer-” you muttered, “My Lord.” you gritted, a breath leaving his lips at the name. 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he lightly grimaced, cringing every time you’ve ever referred to him as that. 

The control you held slipping from the satin covering your fingers. “Because it is polite—something you do not harbor,” you spat, shivering at the crisp breeze brushing against your arms. 

Choso furrowed his eyebrows- even more confused than before at your proclamation. You scoffed- “Do not pretend you are unaware of what I speak of.” your chest puffing and slightly spilling from the top of your gown. 

You abandoned the topic, knowing he would only look at you with the same stupid expression in wait for you to further elaborate. 

Turning away from Choso and placing your hands on the balcony’s edge, sighing softly before a smile crept onto your lips. 

“We have yet to marry, and we are arguing already,” you whispered, looking out into the gardens with a pummeling headache. 

Choso sighed, his face troubled. “I’ve already told you—if this marriage is not of your will, I shall decline your father.” 

You breathed a sharp exhale from your nose at his claim, knowing it was not up to you nor him. It was a duty your own father entrusted to you. 

“It is of my will.” you muttered, hearing his footsteps creep beside you. Looking out to the same view as you. 

“Then why is it you hold such disdain for me?” he whispered, looking to the side of your face in worry. 

Dropping the veil of anger to answer his question in earnest. “Do you remember when we were children? And you would chase me around the Easter gardens?” you asked, taking a softer tone and looking to the very same gardens below you. 

“Or when you would step on my freshly polished shoes- or steal the ribbons of my hair?” Looking back to him with a soft expression- watching his face churn to a pensive one. 

A small smile formed on your lips, “I was able to forgive all of that- but when I was ten and four, you declined my offer for a dance.” your mouth in taught purse, watching his lips part to defend himself. 

“And when I was twenty, I offered again.” the corner of your lip curling in disbelief, “And you declined- again.” 

“This is all because I refused to dance with you?” Choso asked in a half laugh. 

You huffed a smile, “No, not because you declined my offers for dancing, my lord.” clenching your teeth and the seething below your skin burning in your cheeks. “Because after all of that- you somehow managed to foil my plans for the future.” 

Sighing in a straggled breath, “After all of that- you agreed to marry me. And go on as though we have been friends since childhood.” You nodded in disappointment. 

“But we have been-” Choso stated in almost a question. 

“You bullied me in childhood. We are not friends.” You spat in a whisper, turning and taking a step away. Only for his hand to grasp onto your clothed forearm, holding you back with an amused expression. 

“Bullied?” he asked in a surprised tone. “If anyone was a bully- it was you,” speaking your name and looking at your angered expression. 

Choso loosened his grip on your arm, “Do you not recall? When you would pull my ears or push me?” he smiled, remembering the memories he held fondly. 

“Or when I would call you 'my lady'- and you would snap at me? Tell me that was not your name- and that you were no lady?” he scoffed with an earnest smile. You furrowed your eyebrows, barely able to remember the memory he was referring to. 

“If I am so horrible- why did you agree to marry me?” you whispered, the smile on his face only growing in the slightest. 

His cheeks slightly flushed and daring to inch closer to you. “I do not find you horrible,” the tone he took when saying your name made your own cheeks threaten to warm. “I never have.” he smiled. 

Watching your tight expression soften, you parted your lips slightly. Darting your eyes back to the ballroom and seeing a pair of debutants whispering whilst looking through the doors. 

You cleared your throat, taking a step back and exhaling a shaky breath. Choso furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to where you had looked, “A dance, my lady?” he offered his hand out to you. 

You took it with a sigh, what you interpreted as anger filling your cheeks. Allowing him to guide you back to the ballroom. 

A hand on your waist and other holding yours, taking precise steps as your eyes avoided his. Thinking of a way to break the tension without stuttering. “If you insist on marrying me- I ask we speak of agreements beforehand,” you expressed, avoiding the gaze Choso held on you. 

His hand guiding you into a waltz, “Agreements?” he murmured, snapping your eyes back to him and nodding. 

“Yes, agreements. Discuss what shall happen if we marry.” you reiterated, keeping a stern brow and ignoring the wisp of a smug expression on his face. 

Choso lightly smiled, “Very well.” he murmured again, making you nod your head no with heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Bring freesias for my mother- and stop mumbling.” you seethed, watching his smile deepening as he heard your demands. 

-

(a.n) sooo niche and I overindulged I know, but I don't CARE.

[crazilust]

astrology observations pt. 5 (i believe)

remember, if this doesn’t resonate, leave it, scroll away and forget it. i wanted a summer theme, so i’ll do it on this post why not 💛

🐬🍋🌊🌅 🐬🍋🌊🌅 🐬🍋🌊🌅 🐬🍋🌊🌅

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

🐬 I wish I could look a Sag sun in the eyes and tell them that no matter how little or big they achieve, they’re worth something. That they don’t have to chase the next big shiny thing, that they don’t have to be a millionaire by age 30, that they don’t have to « be someone » because they’re already someone.

🍋 We’re always talking about how lucky Jupiter natives are and how free spirited they are, but the truth is, Jupiter is also about expansion and sometimes I feel like that expansion translates in a pressure to be exceptional. And in this society, in this world, being exceptional is only valued at a material level. The number of Sag suns that I’ve met that felt like complete failures at like 20 years old is not normal. They’re so harsh on themselves. I wish I could give them all a big hug

🌊 The power of pisces mercury lies in their intuition. As virgo’s sister sign, it makes sense that Pisces mercuries don’t find their answers through logic and evidence-based facts but rather intuition and feelings. It can be hard for them to trust that gut feeling or to feel intelligent cause if someone asks them « well how do you know? » their answers most likely will be « Eh, just a hunch » But trust it, it’s one of your many gifts

🌅 I used to be so fascinated with people with Aries and Gemini in their birth chart cause I found them so comfortable with people, the life of a party type of people and so damn charming. As I grow older though and begin to see life in nuances of grey instead of straight black and white, I’m able to realize that those people often suffer from people-pleasing tendencies, a sense of self that is either broken or fragile and codependent behaviors. It’s like their sense of worth is tied to how much people like them.

🐬 Cancers are very loyal, I know it’s not a popular sign on mainstream medias and people love to shit on them, but the truth is, Cancers will have your back, no matter the placements. If you’re ever loved by a Cancer, make sure to treat them right !

🍋 People who are not that much into astrology will meet a Leo and be like “omg, you don’t act like a Leo at all, you’re not arrogant or an attention whore” When we look at Leos celebrities, it’s easier to see that arrogant, flashy, extra side. But irl, we rarely meet that “kind “of Leos, right? (Except at bars lol) The reason for it, I found, is that Leos, for the most part, have personas. First of all, they’re a lot more private than you’d think. I believe that most Leos loooove attention, but they also know when it’s appropriate to show it or not. Depending on their other placements, they’ll decide when to grab that spotlight and when to leave it to others.

🌊 I had this girl that I knew that was a Leo sun (and I’m sure a bunch of virgo placements) and everybody was shocked of her sun sign because she was introverted, quiet and observant. But she was still a theater girl, wanted to be the main character (preferred the villain), veryyyy assertive when it came to her boundaries or what she liked and didn’t liked, and very extra and colourful in her outfits. The reason why I don’t like mainstream astrology is because it’s a bit childish in the way it describes a sign. You can love attention but show it in a way other than screaming and dancing on tables. This girl, for example. To me, she was a Leo sun to a T.

🌅 Aquarius placements ���🏽 their desires to connect with someone through intellectual stimulation, but refusing to show and acknowledge their deep rooted fear of intimacy and vulnerability

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

and that’s it from me, folks.

-B.

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter Six - Wasteland, Baby!

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 6.6k

warnings: mentions of violence, arranged marriage

song: Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier

a/n: she juicyyy

“Rather small, isn’t it?” 

Benji snorts next to you, but you don’t find it humorous. 

The castle is small. Not even remotely comparable to what you are used to. 

Which you would not mind, if it didn’t showcase so blatantly how little your father cared about where he had sent you off to. 

Not remotely deserving of your status. 

You clutch the reins and nudge Fury forward, breaking from your cluster of company until you were the one leading them up to the gates. 

You don’t exactly do it to spite anyone. In fact, you’re not even sure if this is wrong. Traditionally your suitors would have to travel to you and not the other way around, but you figure being the first face seen would perhaps assert some kind of dominance that you so clearly lack otherwise. 

You try not to think of the fact that Benji had shared a bed with you last night. 

Not in a promiscuous fashion, at all, but because you were embarrassingly overwhelmed with the way your life was moving forward at the moment. 

Now you won’t really look at him again, and it pains you a little bit, but you had to at least somewhat have your head in the right place when meeting your future husband. 

The sun is shining today. Perhaps it’s a good sign. 

Somebody yells something, an introduction of some sort, trumpets sound out and the gate creaks open. 

It whirls up grey dust that stains the shiny black of your dress. 

Marion had snuck it in for you, you were certain, nobody else would have approved a mourning gown to meet your Lord Husband.

Sitting on your horse like this, you melt into one, colourwise. It makes you look taller, stronger, powerful.

You trot forward, across the small bridge and into the court of the castle. 

Lord Cathcart has his arms flung open, a wide grin on his face. You can’t bring yourself to return the small.

“Ah, the princess of the realm in my humble abode,” he greets you and finally as though saying your title reminded him, he bows. 

Briefly, not appropriately low enough. 

You nod at him, unwilling to get off your horse just yet. “Lord Cathcart.”

He makes a discarding hand gesture. “Please, call me Erik.” 

“Erik.”

He doesn’t look bad. Of course not, neither does his sister. They’re both bronze-haired beauties, not particularly the kind of beauty you cared for, but undeniably beautiful nonetheless. 

“I hope your travels were safe,” he continues. It is a painfully uncomfortable ordeal.

You glance at the castle residents, all lined up behind him, none of them moving and all of them staring at you as though you were perhaps a particularly interesting cow. 

Livestock is becoming increasingly relatable to you as time goes on. 

You haven’t answered yet. “Yes. No disturbances.” 

Erik stares at your dress but then decides he would not address it. 

Fury trudges forward until she is face to face with him, and you want to feel bad for the way he flinches at her height. 

“Well then,” he croaks out. Your eyes flit over to Benji, who unlike you, is not concealing his amusement at all. “I suppose you will want to get rest and settle down in your chambers.”

You nod. “Very much so, my lord.” 

Somebody is whispering something, eyes filled with curiosity and confusion.

You can’t blame them, the picture that is commonly painted of you — soft, sweet, kind — doesn’t exactly align with the entrance you’ve just made. 

It is quite foreign. To remain seated. To not do the polite thing. It isn’t as though you’re being rude or as though you’re obliged to appease these people. The only reason you’ve ever done it was to be nice and you really don’t have the energy to be nice today. 

“Lord Cathcart, I should inform you that her Highness’s horse Fury is unfortunately stubborn. The princess prefers to bring her to the stables herself,” Benji says. The sentence is shaped like a cautious reminder but his voice has an edge to it. You wonder now, whether the edge is natural. 

Lord Cathcart nods, eager, excited, like a dog who’s been shown a bone. 

“Where To then?” 

“Oh, of course!” There’s a strand of hair that bounces. Like a tail. Many dog similarities about the man. “My stable boy will lead the way.”

A young lad breaks from the row and bows to you before approaching. 

“Ma’am,” he mumbles. 

Ma’am? 

You open your mouth to correct him, but a loud smacking sound interrupts you. Your mouth falls agape in horror. Lord Cathcart had struck the boy.

“It is ‘your highness’, you fool,” he yells. Then he turns to you, wide-grinned once more, as though he had painted an entirely new painting in the blink of an eye. “Apologies, we aren’t quite used to such important visits here.”

You want to vomit. “Ser Benjicot and I will go ahead. The rest of you may wait.” You slide off Fury, grab her by the reins. “Come on, sweetling.” 

The boy mumbles his sorrows through welled-up tears as he scurries across the court toward the stables, you and your knight right behind.

Once you are out of sight, tucked away behind the oaken doors, you rest your hand on the boy’s shoulder and force him to face you. 

He’s perhaps three and ten moons, by the looks of it. He looks a bit like Tristan did at his age, but rougher around the edges than a young prince would be.

“You may call me anything you want,” you tell the boy. 

He looks up at you. “My apologies, my highness.” 

Benji chokes a laugh. You send him a warning look. 

“If you wish to call me so, you would have to say ‘your highness’,” you correct him. “But you mustn’t worry. If you wish, you can even call me by my name.”

The boy nods. “My apologies, again.”

He doesn’t look convinced. Matter of fact, he looks as though he’s waiting to find himself trapped somehow. 

You retract your hand and tilt your head. “How often does Lord Cathcart get violent?”

His eyes widen. “I don’t- His father before him– I don’t know, ma– uh, your highness.” 

When you look at Benji once more, as though he might have an explanation for this dilemma, he has a face like a knife ready to be swung. 

“Well, if I am to wed him, then things will have to change around here.”

Still, he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t seem the type to disagree with you either and so you simply guide Fury to her resting place for the next few weeks. Or moons or years. 

She doesn’t seem all too pleased, a spoiled girl, used to palace stables and quality carrots reserved for her. 

“Marvellous first impression,” Benji huffs at you. 

“What, on my part?” 

He’s close to you suddenly and you wish that you didn’t enjoy it as much as you do. He somehow smells intriguing. “Obviously on your part. What kind of man strikes a child?”

You don’t unsaddle your horse, it is not your duty to do so but you rest your head against her side and sigh deeply. “Lord,” you sigh out and if it weren’t for the deeply rooted feeling of nothingness you would have probably cried. 

Benji rests a hand on your shoulder. He’s behind you, an arm’s length of distance and yet you suddenly are struck by the thought of how distant he actually is from you, how you had fallen asleep in his arms, likely even drooled on him in your sleep and yet he is still your knight. Nothing more, nothing less. Bound to you and not a friend. Or a lover. 

“I shall rest,” you cough up. “I shall rest,” you cough up. You cannot face him and you wonder if you could ever again do so, knowing who you were set to marry and knowing what might have happened in another life. You wish you had some sort of consolation. 

Like perhaps your betrothed might not be the kind of man to strike his servants, but you do not and so you wish to go to your chambers and stare at the ceiling for the next few hours.. 

When you emerge onto the court you do not bother to walk back to Lord Cathcart. 

"I shall see to it that I get my rest now, my lord. There will be room to talk another time." 

He is narrowing his eyes at you. Be that because he is suspicious of your behaviour or because he cannot see you well from where he is standing, but he hurries towards you on his slender limbs. "I will see you to your rooms, your highness. If you wish, we can have a bath drawn for you."

A bath was not a bad idea at all, you must smell of horse and sweat and uncomfortable humidity but for some reason you cannot fathom the thought of doing anything at all. 

"No thank you. I will bathe before supper has come and passed, but for now, my bones are too tired."

He pushes out his bottom lip in an odd childish manner, as though your rejection had hurt him in some way. Such a peculiar man. "Follow me," he says. "We have prepared your room the best way possible."

You nod and then glance at your entourage, still standing around, looking morbidly out of place. Capital men, your young new maid, none of them of high status and yet they are engulfed in a blanket of regality by comparison to the courtier's of Lord Cathcart. 

"Say, where will my people be staying? And my knight?"

Erik offers Benji a more than disapproving look. "Downstairs, where they are in the best position to protect you." 

A huff escapes you, at his disregard of rules. "Erik," it drags across your tongue like the bitterest of poisons. "My knight is to wait outside my door until nightfall where he is replaced with a member of the King's guard. Must I remind you of protocol, so early on in our courtship?"

"I have guards of my own, and you will be my wife soon. You are no longer in need of anyone else."

By god, you would have jumped at a chance like this, to be rid of your guards, the most luxurious prison of all, just a few moons ago. But now, as you stand there, you suddenly feel as though protection at all times is much more important than you had previously thought. 

"We are to be married, on that I agree, my lord, however, it is of the utmost importance that my dignity is not compromised beforehand. Therefore my guards will keep watch until God in heaven has blessed this arrangement."

You give him the most saccharine of smiles, so sweet it would make your teeth hurt. "I'm sure you understand."

He clears his throat and looks back and forth between Benji and you and then over at your father's men. Really, they are more Tristan's than the king's at this point. Loyal to you either way. 

Young Lord Cathcart shakes his head as though he is trying to get rid of something and then he grins his idiotic grin. "Why of course, your highness. I suppose it is better to be safe than sorry."

"I am certain you will have no trouble accommodating the lot of us. It is a small castle but it shall do."

You speak the tongue of the snake now. Never in your life have you made comments like this. Never had you been one to participate in the ill-speaking of others. 

You had listened to gossip, had grasped at the tiniest bits of information the loose tongue of any lady would give you and soaked it up to safely put away into a corner of your mind. Knowledge is power. 

Never in your life had you returned the favour to those who would gossip. Not one secret had fallen from your lips, not the slightest of jabs at whether somebody was getting quite rounded around the belly, or that they had worn the same dress on one too many occasions. 

It doesn't feel as good as you had imagined it to, to be a participant now. With how much people talk and talk and talk, you had figured it would be more fun being mean, but you cannot ignore the uneasy pit in your stomach. 

Lord Cathcart leads you to your chambers,, Tamsyn, your new maid hot on your heels, Benji to your right, your left arm looped through that of your betrothed and it feels as if you're walking toward your execution. 

Hours later, you find yourself bathed and dressed in the most god-forsaken gown you have ever put on your body. 

You are dressed as a peacock. 

And worse so, you are wearing an old dress of Lady Cathcart's. You know it because she had worn it to the very costume ball at which it had become blatantly obvious that sin was afoot between your father and her. 

Tamsyn is working hard at your face, perhaps she is hoping to take away from the fact that there are humongous feathers attached to your back. You wonder how much the dress must have cost just for it to be so desperately ugly that you want to scratch your eyes out upon seeing your reflection in the mirror. 

"Tamsyn?" You whisper. 

She croaks out a yes. Poor thing, so far from home, you think to yourself. 

"Have you ever heard anyone speak of Lord Cathcart?"

She pauses, cheeks cherub-red, powdered brush frozen in front of your face.

"What do you mean, princess?"

You shrug. "Just that young boy from earlier. Have you heard of such behaviour before we came here?"

Her expression is that of a trapped animal. "I do not know if what I hear is true, princess. People talk a lot at the capital." 

So she had. You wonder who else had heard of these matters and had not spoken up. People in power. Not your maid, but rather so the other Lords, the Barons, Dukes, Viscounts. Who had known what was happening and had let it happen? Who had known where they were sending you and had let you go? Has your father known? 

You can picture it. Your father, with his red face and his horrid slur, laying in the bed he had shared with your mother, Lady Cathcart there as they laugh about the mean joke they would impose on you. Oh what a joy to send your child away, your daughter who carries her mother's face, whose disdain for your actions you cannot escape. What fun, to have her marry so low, to have her be forgotten by history as an unimportant Lady married to a weak, little man. 

"Princess, may I speak freely?" Tamsyn says, no whispers. 

You look into her big brown eyes. "Always."

"Your father has made a mistake sending you away. The people of the city barely tolerate him these days. They starve while he feasts upon their animals. They like you. Perhaps even love you. Times are changing...," she trails off. "I fear if something is not done, the people might do it themselves."

A knock sounds through the room and you nearly jump out of your skin, haunted by her soft and tender voice and her harsh and haunting words. 

"Your highness, Lord Cathcart, wishes to see you," Benji says. "Are you decent?"

"NO!" you exclaim, louder than need-be. "He will see me once I make my way downstairs."

You think you hear a bit of a commotion on the other side but it quickly dispels.

Carefully you take Tamsyn's hand. "Whatever do you mean?"

She swallows thickly. Her moment's courage is gone. 

"It is not treason to warn me of things," you mumble. "I would not betray your trust."

She nods but she doesn't wish to speak further and you are concerned that if you push too hard now that she may never speak again.

Another knock. "What?" You yell out across the room, more than annoyed. 

With much care the door is opened and Benji walks in backwards, for modesty's sake. 

"I'm decent Ser Benjicot." 

He turns around and you wish you could wipe that expression of amusement right off his face. 

"What?" you repeat. 

He tilts his head. "Just here to report that Lord Cathcart has urged you to hurry up, as he would like to have dinner before sundown. Apparently the lighting is marvellous during." 

You take the powder from Tamsyn, any more and you might have looked like a jester, anyways. "Let us go then. If Lord Cathcart insists upon it then so be it."

As you get up you damn near fall over, dragged down by the weight of your dress. All the curses in the world, you mentally send to Lady Cathcart. 

"Do not say anything," you threaten your knight who has to fight his laughter harder by the second. 

To make matters worse, the Lord of the house had sent a tiara with equally oversized feathers attached to it for you to wear. 

You do not pride yourself in being fantastically tasteful like your sister Cordelia but you know for certain that you never could have come up with an atrocity of this scale in a million years. 

You loop your arm through Benji's, praying that you will not stumble down the stairs to your death. Or perhaps that might be a kind fate, rather than having to spend the remainder of your life attached to a spiteful gnome. 

But then, who would Benji have to offer his arm to? 

Surely somebody, you remind yourself. He is a renowned rebellious man. It would be a miracle had he never lain with a woman before. 

It crosses your mind that you have no reason to be thinking about this and so you push these thoughts back. 

The pair of you walk through weird and winding corridors, decorated with stuffed animals and you stare at them as they watch you pass them by. "Have you heard of any commotion back at the capital?" you whisper to your knight. 

He tenses beneath your touch. "Why do you ask?"

"Just— No reason. But I was thinking of my friends." You cough. They are not your friends, rather than simply people who you've offered your service to. "And they seemed so tense when I last saw them."

You don't need to look at him to know he is raising his eyebrow. "And when was that?" He asks with a tone of great authority for somebody of his rank.

"Before you were here. You know of my sole attempt, Ser Benjicot."

He takes a sharp turn to the left and you nearly trip. 

You had never been known to trip. It bothers you greatly, how swiftly things seemed to be changing at the moment.

Benji sighs. "Nobody is quite happy with how things have been going along in the kingdom. After the death of your mother and the removal of Ser Attenborough from the position of hand the smallfolk has been growing uneasy."

You glance over your shoulder. Is it dangerous to speak so freely in a foreign place? Likely. "Is there reason to fear?"

For my brother. My sister who is visiting. For Marion even. For all the people at court that aren't corrupted by their own wealth. 

Benji doesn't answer for a moment. "It is not yours to worry over such matters."

Of course. You scoff but you cannot be offended in truth, for you know that he is right. What would you even do? You held no true power, all you could do is warn Tristan and even so, what would you warn him about? Everyone knows of the dire situation in the kingdom. 

You take another turn and you are not sure you would be able to find your way through this castle by your lonesome, as topsy-turvy as it is. 

Finally you reach the grand hall and the sight before you is chilling. There are no guests at all. 

Erik is sitting at the head of the table, whispering to a priest. 

Servants stand in row along the cobbled and dark walls, statues or perhaps living dolls. 

A shudder runs down your spine. 

"Lord Cathcart," your voice chimes through the long room, reverberating from its hollowness. You've never particularly enjoyed hearing your own voice so intensely. 

His eyes shoot up and his teeth are bared. "Your highness! My, you look just marvellous. Peacock is certainly your colour."

If it is a joke you don't laugh. Your smile is meek and you make your way towards your seat to his right. The only other of the about twenty chairs that has a dinner set resting in front of this. 

Benji pulls your chair out for you and you squish the thick layers of dress down beneath the table. 

"You may be excused," Erik tells your knight. 

Your eyebrows raise. 

"Have we not discussed this earlier?"

Erik nods. "That is what the priest is here for. To protect your virtue."

Benji does not say anything at all, not an ounce of protest and you can already hear his footsteps retreating.

"What of intruders? Kidnappers? Enemies to the crown? My safety is just as important as my chastity," you plead, exasperated, desperate to not be left alone with these strange men. 

But you are waved off as you so often are.

The door opens and closes and you have to watch the closest thing to a friend you have here leave. 

The sting of betrayal surprises you. 

Lord Cathcart is delighted. "We have guards at all doors princess, you need not worry. I will protect you."

He couldn't protect you from a small dog, you are certain, but what use is protest? Somehow you will have to find a way to tolerate him. 

Your wine is poured and you take a gulp and are hit with an instant wave of regret. "What is this?"

"Our local wine, princess. Do you like it?"

You consider lying for a moment. "Do you perhaps have anything sweeter? Cider?" 

He claps and one of the frozen servants scurries quickly. Your chalice is replaced with a new one and the cider is only a tiny bit better. By god, you had not been aware just how spoiled you are. 

The priest lingers by the fireplace. An ugly man, undeniably. Small bird-like eyes and wormy, moist lips. He's watching you with the eyes of a predator. 

"Now, Princess," your betrothed says. "I am quite sorry for these circumstances,."

Your food is plated. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I am well aware that you must have expected a better match. Maybe even a love match."

The meat is cold in the middle. "I tried to not delude myself into thinking I would marry for love's sake."

He gives something of a look of consideration. “Still. Had we at least had the chance to know one another before being thrust into the other’s arms.”

He is not being thrust into anybody’s arms, you think to yourself. A husband is not the wife’s prisoner, it is the other way around. You don’t disagree with him, just keep chewing your hopeless, bland food.

“I am aware of my sister’s wrongdoings, princess.” 

His voice has lowered to a whisper now, as though he is afraid of the shame his sister might bring upon him. As though his housekeepers do not quiver before him.

“What wrongdoings? Meddling in politics which do not concern her? You must clarify, my lord,” you demand. 

The priest stares at you, unwavering.

Erik is uncomfortable. “No. I cannot. I do not know what she did, but I assure you she must have done something for you to be here now.”

“Where are your parents? Are they not concerned with their daughter’s actions?”

“They have long left the kingdom, as you surely know, princess.” There is a piece of lettuce stuck between his teeth. “They have no care for their children.”

“Well, at least we seem to have one thing in common.” Your voice drips with resignation.

He beams at you like an excited dog. “Yes!”

A bit absurd to get quite so excited about such a sombre fact.

“Lord Cathcart,” you say. You have to say this now. “I do hope we can find a way to make our marriage tolerable. But I must warn you that I will try to fight it until I am dragged down the altar. Once we are wed, I shall be an honourable, dutiful wife.”

There is a film of something strange across his face, the sheen of light disgust or aversion. 

“Princess, this is an agreed-upon arrangement.” 

You shrug. You wish you weren’t so scared. You wish your knight were here with you. “I am still the king’s daughter. I outrank you.”

Your heart is trembling with the fierceness of your words. You can't remember another time where you had spoken so frank.

But you had tripped today. It is due time you adapt to the world.

The air feels sharp. "Princess, you are my betrothed. There is no way out."

His knuckle blanch from how hard he grips the table. "I am sorry for the ordeal. But I will be your Lord Husband, you are not free to run your mouth like this." 

It flashes across your mind how Benji had respected you more after you had spoken your mind and how disgusted with you Erik seems. 

"I will not disrespect you in any regard. But if you are yourself sorry, why would you still agree?"

You know the answer. Wealth. The glory of marrying an Apricate girl. Proximity to the rulers. 

He doesn't speak these things. "I will work hard against your unhappiness. But to remove myself from this betrothal would be undignified."

Have you gone too far? Had you been too crass? You do not know these unfamiliar waters, you do not know how much is too much, you have always given too little. 

"I am sorry, my Lord. I do not mean to offend. I am simply-"

"Tired," he cuts you off. He rests his hand against yours. You wish you could remove it.. "How could I make you rest easier?"

Your gaze catches that off one of the paintings behind him. "Why do you lay hands on your people?"

He squeezes your hand and it feels like a threat but he catches himself. "For discipline."

"That is a foolish reason. Not even the king hurts his servants."

His beauty is so painfully tainted by the face he is making. "But this is the most efficient way. How else would they learn?"

The priest is still watching. Would a true man of god let this happen under his watch? 

"Is it not god that taught us to treat each other with kindness?"

It feels as though you are speaking to a child and he truly doesn't understand what you are trying to imply. 

But he gives in. 

"If this is what you wish for then fine. I shall follow your command," he says. 

You nod and take another sip. If you drink fast enough you might be able to interpret this as a win. 

And perhaps while you are at it, you might unburden yourself by the plague that your knight is.

Comparison is the thief of joy and the way you cannot help but see how much of a better man Benji is, in comparison to the wimpy Lord Cathcart.

You never should have let him comfort you. It is like a gate in your mind has been opened and cannot be closed. A flood of thoughts, all repeating the same face over and over again.

"Princess, I must inform you of something and I am doubtful that it will make you happy."

Your stomach twists. "What is it?" Another big sip.

"Well, once we are wed—" He pauses. Which we will be, is what he is trying to suppress but the warning look in his eyes says it for him anyways. "You will be assigned a new sworn protector."

You pray to god that he doesn't see the frown you immediately pull into your chalice. "Pardon?"

"You will be assigned a new protector. My family is close with House Bracken and has been for many years. I cannot have that unhinged young lad running around my castle."

Unhinged is a strong choice of word, coming from him. "He swore an oath. How would I dispose of him?"

"In the same way your last knight was disposed of. It is not a dishonourable thing, but merely a precaution. I do not wish to run into trouble."

"My knight was picked in very specific conditions. He is part of the peace treaty in the Riverlands. If he returns, trouble will surely be worse."

It is quite funny how suddenly the tides have changed. Just about one moon, or two ago you were beyond upset with Ser Benjicot Blackwood, and had prayed for a way to rid yourself of him. And now, you were fairly certain that if he left, you would be the most lonely person in the world.

He isn't even your friend. You are not even sure he doesn't still partly despise you but with Marion gone and your siblings gone and your work (if one can call it that) taken from you, you had to call him a friend. Otherwise you might fall into a pit of deep despair. 

Lord Cathcart had perhaps not considered the treaty. Or he hadn't considered that you might be aware of it. Either way he doesn't speak for a very long time and decides to aggressively cut his lamb up. 

"You must know, it is a liability to have Bloody Ben running around my home. I can't imagine why your father would ever have him assigned to you in the first place, but I surely do not want this."

You disregard your food entirely. "Well, if you wish for it, I do not hold any power over who is sworn to me. But you hold no power either. If we were wed perhaps it might change, but even still. The Blackwood boy was chosen by the king and plays an essential role in keeping peace in this glorious kingdom. The choice is with him and his counsel."

And as you speak you wonder if they might execute him. Where else would they put him? Surely Lady Cathcart would find a way to have your father listen to her brother's request. And then what? He isn't allowed to return to the Riverlands, but how could they ensure that he wouldn't? 

You must write to Tristan. Or perhaps Cordelia could offer him refuge in Arbormere. Without her husband''s knowledge.

It is becoming more noticeable by the second that this dress is not yours by the way parts of it dig into tender flesh. 

Erik clears his throat. 

And gets up.

You stare at him perplexed. 

"Your highness, my princess, the realm's delight. I do not wish to sadden you." He grips your hand again, both of them this time. "But I cannot have you talking in this unwomanly manner. Politics do not concern you. Discipline does not concern you. How I handle things is not your concern. Speak disrespectfully again and I assure you, I can be much unfriendlier."

You swallow thickly before you rip your hands out of his. "I am still the princess. Do not dare threaten me ever again."

Tears of anger betray your coldness and you get up with enough force to send the table wobbling, wine stains the cloth spread. 

"I bid you goodnight."

You turn to face the priest. "And you father."

He doesn't speak, still just quietly watching with bird eyes and nods. 

Apparently luck is on your side after all, and the Lord of the house does not attempt to follow you. 

You storm out of the room and do not slow down when Benji calls after you. He must have waited by the door. Has he heard your conversation?

"Do you even know where you are going?" 

You ignore him, hectically climbing the stairs with your stupid, stupid gown. 

Ser Corrigan nearly runs into you when you hurry around the corner but you ignore him too. 

Since you have no idea where you are going you decide to continue climbing the stairs. You can hear Benji tell Ser Corrigan that he has not a single clue what has gotten into you. 

You aren't even crying. You wish you were, you figure that would suit you more than an erratic outburst of anger. Maybe you are your father's daughter after all. 

Finally Benji catches up to you and you are once more reminded of how restricted you are even by something as minute as the clothes you wear. 

Forever the most privileged prisoner in the world.

"What on earth happened?" He asks, matching your speed as you keep going up and up and up.

"I cannot marry that man," you huff. This is surprisingly exhausting; your face feels like it's aglow from the heat. 

"Did he do something?" 

Did he? Not really. Can you even blame Erik for anything? He is doing what he has been taught his whole life, how he has seen women be treated by their husband's for forever. This is a tradition older than you or your mother or her mother before her. Generations of women who could do nothing but obey. Rage runs hot in your veins.,

"No," you say. "He did what was expected, I just figured I would—" Be successful in your rebellion. That if  you had never spoken ill or not done what was expected that would mean it would be more effective once you do. But it wasn't. Not at all. 

You can only place your hope with God now, and you have not done that in a very long time.

You reach the top of the stairs, the bell tower. Closer to the sky but not remotely a free bird.

With an exasperated sigh you lean against the wall, tilt your head to peek at the sun setting on the horizon, a fiery orange hue. The ridiculous feather tiara slips to the ground. 

The dining room must be looking marvellous about now, it being faced west-way and all. 

Benji also looks marvellous. Not nearly as out of breath as you, dressed in black leathers, his raven pin twinkling as his chest rises and falls.

"He wants to get rid of you," you tell him. 

He nods. "That makes sense."

"How does that make any sense? You are here based on a contract, a deal, an entire peace treaty. He cannot just rid you of me."

He smiles halfheartedly. "Rid you of me? I thought it would be the other way around. That you'd be glad to be rid of me."

There is not an ounce of energy left in you to take such jests. 

Benji is across from you. You are so high up, the tip of the tower. He feels too tall for the space. "I knew he was friends with the Bracken pack. I figured I'd run into some issues with that."

A strange sensation grows in your overwhelmed heart. "Why would you not tell me this?"

"You're so well-versed in gossip I thought you knew this."

You had known. But you had not realised that the bond between Bracken and Cathcart was strong enough to warrant such behaviour. 

"He is like my father," you whisper. "But worse in some ways." 

You consider it for a moment. "Better in others."

"So why are we up here? Are you planning to jump?"

You roll your eyes at him. "Idiot." 

He nudges his boot against the bottom frills of your dress., and they leave a small splotch of brown. Somehow he is never fully clean. There are always specks of mud trailing him. You don't know how he manages it.

"Am I too not know love, ever?"

He nudges you again. "You are loved by so many. I'm quite certain that you are one of the most loved people in the world."

"It isn't tangible love. The smallfolk think they like me but they don't know me and soon they will have forgotten me in favour of my father's shortcomings. My siblings love me. Marion perhaps. Ser Rodrick once, but he hasn't written me any letters." 

Benji sighs. "That is still more than what some people have in a lifetime."

There isn't a way to deny him because he is right. He has backed you into a corner with his words, but still he must be aware how none of that could make up for the marriage that was luring in your future. You do not even want to think of the consummation of it. 

Silence remains as it so frequently does between the two of you. 

He stretches his hand out toward you and you take it, not questioning why, as he pulls you forward, until your skirt wraps around both your legs. 

With gentle hands he does the same, wraps around you until you are engulfed in his arms, his scent, his warmth. 

Your head grows dizzy, as it rests against his shoulder.

"I am not familiar with the ways of the court," he whispers, his breath hot on the crown of your head. "But many noble women find a way to be with their husbands in a way that isn't too straining. Your sister seems content, doesn't she?"

"She wasn't always and she still is not. Her husband will not relent until he has an heir to take the throne. They get along fine but the bearing of children is laborious for her. My mother died when she had me." 

His hand draws a circle on your back and you hope he never stops doing it. 

"You're a witch. That won't happen to you."

You laugh but it is laced with venomous sarcasm. "I'm a terrible witch. I couldn't even say goodbye to my cauldron. Or my sick people."

He pulls away, yet just far enough for your noses to touch. "That was not your fault. And besides, you did try to leave the castle. You just weren't quite...tactical about it."

Your laugh dies in your throat when your eyes meet his. You're certain that nobody has ever quite looked at you like this. Least of all Benji. 

That legendary young man, with a supposed undying thirst for blood. And while you had seen him angered, the way he is looking at you now makes it hard to imagine that he had ever been anything but tender. 

The moment stretches out, up into the sky and across the two of you like the dome you are standing beneath. 

In hindsight you won't be sure how it happens but something pulls the two of you together and your lips meet. 

Your breath hitches, heart hammering the way Fury's hooves do when she gallops across a field and it is better than the rush of any wine you've ever had. 

Your head is screaming at you to put a stop to it, but you cannot bring yourself to, when every fibre in your being is yearning for more, your hands in his hair. It is foreign and odd but in a fantastical way.

And in the end, it is him who pulls away. 

"Oh," you breathe, chest rising unsteadily. 

The grin on his face is prideful. "Mhm. Oh."

A twig snaps in the court, but it does not matter. His lips are on yours again. 

[csolarstorm]

The Six Sides of N Harmonia's Puzzle Box

N's Void Cube looked a lot different in development.  Not only was it a Puzzle Box instead of the Void Cube we know today, but it had six colorful, enigmatic patterns. And after more than ten years, I've finally been able to accurately recreate these patterns in 3D!

And I think I know what they're based on too! It's all about Tao. Black and White are known for their yin and yang motif, the primary inspiration for the Tao Trio. But as we know from the anime theme song, it's not always black and white. There's also the five elements.

Wuxing is the system of five elemental phases of being: Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water.

But first: all of this is based on internet research. I'm not an expert, and this isn't my culture, so definitely let me know if there's something I need to change for any reason.

In my last post on Wuxing, I explained that five Unova legendaries, the Therian Forces of Nature along with Kyurem, each have a gem on their body that reflects one of the elemental phases.

The exact five colors of these gems, with appropriate designs for their respective elements, happen to match the sides of N's Puzzle Box - along with a twist for the sixth. So let's go over each of them!

Green 木 "Wood" This is the front of the Puzzle Box, with the opening leading to the keyhole. N is very "Natural" kind of guy, so we can see why this element would be the face of the Puzzle Box, as well as the basis for the Void Cube design.

Fun fact - early civilizations rarely saw a distinction between green and blue. So although "Wood" is correlated with the Azure Dragon of the Four Auspicious Beasts, in this context "azure" can refer to shades of green and blue.

Red 火 "Fire" This one looks like a big flame wheel. See the big circle inside the square? It also reminds me of the Chinese zodiac, if each of the six rings on the outside represent two zodiac signs. Red is associated with the Chinese zodiac and the Lunar New Year after all. I'm not sure about the two center dots.

White 金 "Metal" Oh now this one's clearer to me. If the Red Fire pattern represents the Chinese zodiac and the Lunar New Year, this one represents moon phases! See the intersecting curved lines? It's like the inside of a dome. It looks like the moon changing shape as it crosses the the dome of the sky.

N's cube is likely a relic of ancient Unova, and many ancient artifacts are calendars or reference ancient calendars. As it turns out, the Green, Red, and White patterns all share this theme of eight dots arranged in circles - the eight moon phases. It's the lunar calendar.

Blue 水 "Water" It looks like a lot of bubbles! This one might symbolize the tides that come in and out with the phases of the moon. So the three rings might symbolize the Triple Moon, or the Waxing Moon, Waning Moon, and Full Moon.

Water is traditionally associated with the color Black in Wuxing, but some modern diagrams use Blue. Plus this is Pokemon, and in this franchise, water is blue.

Yellow 土 "Earth" Things are about to get intense. Earth is associated with the Yellow Dragon, the ascended form of the Yellow Emperor, who is the said to be the father of Tao. Very important.

So the Yellow Earth pattern looks familiar. Four circles around a center ring look like the Four Auspicious beasts around the Yellow Dragon, just the Yellow Earth pattern is surrounded by the other four elements around the top of the box.

The Yellow Dragon of course, is Kyurem with its yellow forehead gem, and the Four Auspicious Beasts are the Therian Forces of Nature, with the gems of the other four elements.

Then on the bottom of the box is this mystery Pink pattern. It's kind of a mirror of the Yellow Earth Pattern on top. Both have that big center circle, symbolizing Kyurem as the Yellow Dragon.

Well, something I didn't realize in my first post on Wuxing is that when Kyurem is shiny, its gem turns bright pink.

The gems on the Therian Forms, by the way, stay the same color when they're shiny. So what's going on here? Well, I think the Pink pattern represents a kind of reflection of the Earth element.

Earth is the only elemental phase composed of both yin and yang. (Source) While the other phases have their opposites, Earth is its own opposite. Except, in the early design of N's Puzzle Box, it seems that GameFreak split it into "Earth" and "Mirror Earth".

And what is Pink most associated with in Unova? Dream Mist and the Dream World. The Pink pattern even looks like the weave of a dreamcatcher. So it's not "Earth" and "Mirror Earth" - it's our world and the Dream World.

This would even explain why both Yellow and Pink patterns represent Kyurem and the Yellow Dragon with a center ring. Taking it back to my previous post on Wuxing, the Yellow Dragon resides in the center of the world, just like the center ring in Unova:

That's the Entralink: it's the center ring that is the constant between worlds: our world, the Dream World, even the worlds of other players. And on the Puzzle Box, the center ring is like an axis that goes straight through, from top to bottom, from world to world.

While the other sides of the Puzzle Box depict the lunar phases, the Yellow Earth pattern depicts the Earth itself, so it makes sense that it would be surrounded by the other sides.

The lunar calendar theme also ties into the Dream World, because many cultures associate the phases of the moon with our dreams. That's why the dream legendaries Cresselia and Darkrai are based on phases of the moon.

And that's it for my analysis of each side!

Wuxing is such a perfect theme for a puzzle cube, because it's all about rotating the sides of the cube around a central axis, just like celestial objects in their orbit. In fact "Wuxing" translates to "moving planets". There's a very astrological quality to it.

And each combination of colors is like the interaction of elements, transient phases of matter in a grand cycle, like planets in the cosmic order.

...

If you liked my animated model of N's Puzzle Cube, check out the full Blender animation in my post The Key to N Harmonia's Puzzle Box! The original was too long to fit into a GIF.

Can you tell I enjoyed researching Wuxing? This analysis took so long to get right. Is it too long, is it too short, what should I add, what should I remove - this draft is pretty much perfect. I hope you enjoyed my analysis as much I liked writing it.

Happy Year of the Snake! We might get a Pokemon Z-A trailer soon, hopefully to celebrate our favorite legendary snekky. The year of the Wood Snake is perfect for Zygarde's love of all things natural and green.

Analyzing Pokemon is fun.

Take care!

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter two: used to burn cds full of songs i didn't know summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) story pairing: f!reader/task force 141 | chapter pairing: f!reader/price previous chapter | next chapter

would u believe me if i said part of the reason this fic exists in the first place is because i was listening to the mean girls remix and i placed price in the perspective of julian casablancas divorcedly singing about his failed relationships while thinking of the reader frolicking in the back as charli goin "THIS ONE'S FOR ALL MY MEAN GIRLSSSSSSSSSS" 😭😭

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Price was old.

He was well aware of this.

Whether it was the lumbering and lingering ache of a strained muscle from a campaign that greeted him upon waking up in the morning, or Johnny and Kyle snickering together of his first job being the lad who told Scrooge that it was Christmas Day, Price was well aware of the crows feet by his eyes.

And the refined and honed strength of his backhand across the back of Johnny’s and Kyle’s heads that only decades of experience could provide.

He wasn’t one to keep up with trends, but he was at least aware that buying music wasn’t the same either.

Instead of having his choice of Virgin Records or HMV to stroll up to on a Saturday morning, there was now Spotify or Apple Music on his phone.

It was a curious and nice thing however, to see that you–as a current artist–were still keeping the lost art of physical releases alive with your music.

While standard for you as a pop star, there was something kind and nostalgic to be able to pop open a CD case and pluck a thin shiny disc from within.

Though, here he was with a celebratory cigar in hand at a local pub not too far from the Shangri-La with the others–one that aligned more with their average shared tax bracket–, befuddled at the album that was handed to him, one that looked to be more the size of a Bible than the thin plastic cases of before.

Your first solo album. 

A gift from you to him, Kyle, Johnny, and Simon that was given by your manager–Pearl, a woman whose knife-like acrylic nails, insistence on wearing sunglasses indoors, and an air of Dior perfume and cigarette smoke served as a quick snapshot of a no-nonsense industry veteran–on their way out from the hotel. The introductions and pleasantries were short and curt, her handshake firm and cold before she departed to return to her room upstairs.

Inside the ornate packaging of your album included a lyric booklet that looked to be a mini-photo book instead, pictures of your album’s photoshoot within–so unlike the thin booklets of before.

What did stand out most to him was the small card that featured a photo of yourself on the front and a signature printed on the back.

“Ahh got yerself gold right there, Captain! Her fans would kill ya for that,” Johnny chuckled, brandishing the card he received: the outfit was the same but your pose was different and he wasn’t as fortunate to receive a signature on his.

Neither did Kyle and Simon apparently, the former curiously checking your wiki page on his phone while the latter gleamed through your lyric booklet with nary a word.

Price brought his cigar to his lips for a puff, his eyes trained on your photocard, taking in every detail presented.

From having previously seen you so meek, quiet and shy to now holding a card of you dressed in full glamour, doe eyes gazing up to the camera and–

He glanced further down.

–your dress cut nice and low.

His lips pursed slightly in thought.

Perhaps it wasn’t the most professionally appropriate to be ogling his client or morally appropriate to be ogling the young woman who one of his good friends entrusted her safety to.

But hey–Price simply liked what he saw.

“You wanna trade, boss?”

Price’s gaze flickered over to Johnny, who held out his photocard: it was you with your back turned towards the camera, your eyes fixed in a wink and your fingers fixed in a peace sign. While his question was posed in a light tone, the look on his face was more like that of a puppy.

He returned his gaze to his card.

That look on your face, that revealing dress of yours.

Cigar smoke was held in his mouth a second more before he carefully released it from his lips to keep the heady clouds from floating over your card.

Shifting his eyes back to Johnny’s pleading features, he proceeded to flicker some cigar ash over a nearby tray. “It’s a tough economy out in the world, Johnny.” Practically hearing the Scot’s heart break from across the table, he held up your card once more, tapping on the front a few times–right on your cleavage at that–as he affirmed with a nod and his tone light. “I’ll be keeping this should I need to start bartering at Sainsbury’s.”

Johnny was left to seek comfort from Kyle and Simon for a trade.

“Let me save you some time, mate–I’m keeping mine.”

“Kyle, I didn’t even–Fine, fine. Simon let me see what ya got, yeah? Not like yer actually gonna do anything with it.”

“A picture’s worth a thousand words, Johnny. Hers is 10,000–start tellin’ me why I should give mine to you.”

“Dinnae gimme any of that cheek, ya bastard!”

As this went on, Price tucked your photocard away into the pocket of his bomber jacket, letting his hand linger over the printed rectangle for a moment longer.

Your beauty was worth more than gold, that was for certain.

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

thank you for reading!!! for the warm reception upon debut!!! working on this piece has really reinvigorated a passion and drive for writing and i hope you all enjoy what's in store!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

and just as a little something something, here's the title of the next chapter:

sweat marks all on my clothes

i wonder who shall be the focus next time !!! 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

[wheneverfeasible]

Ruin Me (part 4)

wc: 4.7k || rating: E || story summary: Steve shows up on Eddie’s doorstep with an offer he can’t refuse || chapter summary: Smut ensues, as does a terrifying realization. || tags: omegaverse, alpha!Eddie Munson, omega!Steve Harrington, intersex omegas, explicit content (see ao3 for full tags) || posted in full on ao3

See bottom for notes

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Previously…

“You feel so good, omega,” Eddie whispered with a pant against Steve’s skin, feeling how his own tip was beginning to bead with desire for the boy beneath him. “Gonna knot you up so good. Gonna ruin you for anyone else again ever.”

“Prove it,” Steve growled. “Stop being such a pussy and put your fingers inside me already.”

Who was Eddie to argue with that?

With a sharp bite to Steve’s shoulder just above his clavicle, Eddie let his finger finally sink into the wet heat of Steve’s pussy, causing Steve to let out a deep groan of both pain and pleasure. He pumped his finger in and out just enough to feel the muscles adjust, pleased at how quickly Steve accepted even just this part of him, and then he was adding the second finger soon after.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve whined again, hitching his hips up higher to rock against the thrusting fingers. The wet sound of him was evident even over the rain outside, little gasping breaths leaving him as he dropped his head back exposing his throat. “Feels so good, alpha.”

“You touch yourself like this, baby?” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to the bright red mark his bite had left behind, moving back to trail soft kisses to Steve’s exposed neck. “You touch yourself and imagine it’s alpha cock instead?”

“Gonna be thinking about yours next time I do,” Steve groaned, which turned into a high keen when Eddie curved his fingers to find that spongy spot inside that caused Steve to tense beneath him.

Smirking, Eddie pulled back to look down at Steve’s face, pressing into that spot over and over again as obvious pleasure jolted through Steve. A quick look down showed even Steve’s cocklet was shiny with arousal, and Eddie was eager to taste it all. He could feel Steve’s muscles coiling, knowing how quickly the first time can go with someone else in charge of your pleasure.

Eddie pulled back, eager for Steve to climax as if it were his own pleasure he was chasing, but wanting to do it right. He ignored Steve’s whine of loss as Eddie pulled his fingers free, knowing he’d have his fingers back in that slick heat soon, and soon after that he’ll have even more.

First, however, he gripped Steve’s hips and scooted back to pull Steve lower on the bed until he was flat on his back, grinning at the small surprised ‘oomph’ Steve let out from the action.

“I’m going to suck your cock now as I spread your pussy with my fingers,” he said conversationally, giving Steve just barely enough time to protest or call out ‘red’ if need be (not that Steve could do more than simply gape at Eddie as his brain obviously tried to process that information) before he was diving in, sliding three fingers deep in Steve’s pussy as he wrapped his lips around Steve’s cocklet and took him whole into his mouth.

Steve cried out at the dual sensations, hips stuttering as though they didn’t know if they wanted to press up into the warmth of Eddie’s mouth or down onto his fingers spreading him open.

Eddie, meanwhile, was quite happy to slurp up the slick that had spread over Steve’s cocklet and was even coating Steve’s thighs until they were just as shiny, letting Eddie know easily that Steve definitely didn’t have a problem with getting appropriately wet. Encased against Steve’s core by his own draping hair, Eddie eagerly breathed in the omega’s enticing sweet musk.

Though Steve’s inner walls were tight around him, he was slick enough to let Eddie’s quickly thrusting fingers meet no resistance, his body adjusting to the new width easily and promisingly. He could feel the quivering of Steve’s thighs again, could hear the needy whines the boy was making as he took Eddie’s fingers as deep as Eddie could bury them, making Eddie wonder at how easily Steve might be able to take his whole fist.

The thought of Steve’s wet pussy lips encasing him up to his forearm had his dick jerk warningly, so he pushed that thought aside for later contemplation, instead focusing on the just as alluring present. He suckled at Steve’s cocklet, groaning around him at the pleasant weight on his tongue, before reluctantly pulling back. He wanted to see Steve’s face for this.

Letting Steve drag slowly over his lips, swirling his tongue around the tip one last time, he released him with a small pop as he readjusted his fingers inside Steve to find that spot again. Once he was certain he found it, he glanced back up at Steve’s expression with a grin, watching the way Steve flushed all the way down his chest, writhing beneath him.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good riding my fingers like this. Can’t wait to see how you look riding my knot,” he breathed, causing another sharp whine to rip itself from Steve’s panting lips.

“A-alpha,” he moaned, limbs shaking with the intensity of his building orgasm as Eddie’s fingers assaulted the sensitive spot inside him over and over again. Eddie couldn’t tell if Steve’s hair was still wet from the rain or if it was from sweat, but Eddie’s own hair was sending droplets of sweat down the back of his neck, so he figured it was probably both. Eddie wanted to lick it all up. “G-gonna—”

Though Eddie had a feeling he knew how Steve was going to finish that sentence, he had no chance to as, with another firm massage against his g-spot, Steve was suddenly shouting in surprise and arching off the bed with an accompanying rush of slickness that soaked Eddie’s entire hand down to his wrist. The scent was unlike anything Eddie had ever smelled before, making saliva pool in his mouth with anticipation.

Even still, Eddie milked Steve through his orgasm, working the sensitive spot until Steve was whimpering at the overstimulation, utterly spent. Only then did Eddie pause, slowly pulling his hand free with a wet squelching sound that was music to his ears.

Steve’s face and expression during this had been everything Eddie had hoped for. Eyes squeezed tightly shut as the orgasm hit, head thrown back against the pillow and bedding, mouth open after his shout with his face, neck, and chest flushed a deep red. One hand was curling into the sheets in a white-knuckled grip that had Eddie worrying about the continued wellbeing of the old material, while the other was curled into Steve’s own hair and threatening more than a few lost strands there as well.

With his dry hand, Eddie moved to lightly grasp those fingers first, easing them open to release the hair that had already been through a lot tonight. And would be through so much more after he was done with the omega, that was for certain.

He squeezed the hand once it released the precious strands, causing Steve to flutter his eyes open and stare at Eddie with glazed, unfocused eyes. Eddie patiently waited for him to return to himself, grinning down at Steve with a smug expression. He needed Steve’s focus for the next part.

Steve, focusing on the leering face above him finally, let out a small chuff, carefully stretching his legs back down on the mattress. His nose wrinkled a little as he shifted on the damp spot beneath him, his eyes moving to track Eddie’s hand still shiny with his slick as the older boy finally brought it up to his mouth, licking a long stripe from wrist to fingertip.

Eddie could only smirk at the wide eyed stare he received for that move.

“You really are as sweet as you smell, precious,” he purred, taking himself in hand next to spread the slick over his own cock, squeezing himself once more to keep himself under control. The mere aperitif of Steve’s taste had him more than eager for the real thing waiting for him, however, direct from the source.

A small whine left Steve at Eddie’s words, the sweet smell Eddie was quickly growing addicted to rising, and all Eddie wanted to do was bury himself in the scent and drink his fill. So he did.

Eddie took only a moment to wipe off some of the slick on the sheets, and then he was scooting back on the bed and lowering himself down flat until he could mouth at Steve’s hip bones, nipping him sharply before softly kissing the reddened mark. He glanced up at Steve, catching his pink faced look of incredulity, and then he lifted one of Steve’s legs to throw over his own shoulder and moved in.

The first swipe of his tongue over Steve’s folds was unlike any pussy he’d ever tasted before. Not that he had a lot of experience, of course, but he had enough. Enough to know what he was doing at least. Enough to help a little virgin through the first time he had his pussy eaten.

“Oh, fu—” Steve gasped out in exclamation, one hand staying fisted in the bed sheets while the other moved to curl in Eddie’s hair this time. Steve didn’t pull or twist or push or tug, however, instead he just held on as Eddie’s tongue slid through his folds, curling to flick along his already swollen cocklet.

Entirely without his permission, a deep rumble of pleasure began in Eddie’s chest, the taste of Steve even better than he had ever expected it to be. He thought about teasing Steve some more, about telling him how sweet he was, about how his virgin cunt tasted, but a hunger was burning in Eddie. He wanted more, he wanted all, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had his tongue soaked in Steve’s delicious slick.

Even still, Eddie let himself enjoy the moment. He swiped his tongue flat over Steve’s drenched pussy, every bit of slick he cleaned up being replaced by yet more. He could feel it coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin, mingling with his own saliva as he ate the bountiful feast before him.

“Ed-ddie-ee,” Steve continued to whine out, his heel digging into Eddie’s back where it was slung over his shoulder, hips thrusting up to meet his tongue. Great panting breaths were forced from his plush pink lips, Eddie’s name a repeating gasp for air, a reminder of who was making him feel this way.

It was the prettiest fucking sound Eddie had ever heard.

Unable to control himself, Eddie turned his face briefly to sharply bite at Steve’s inner thigh as he shoved all four of his fingers into Steve’s dripping hole. A sharp moan, nearly a cry, left Steve as he squeezed around the intrusion with an expression of pure bliss and…

Yeah. Eddie was going to fist this boy one of these days. He could feel that to the very core of his being.

For now, however, he had other things in mind.

“Look at you, darling,” he whispered, nuzzling into the red indent of his teeth. “So fucking pretty. I’m going to fucking ruin you so no alpha can ever make you feel as good as I can. I’m going to make you insatiable for me and me alone.”

Despite bordering on inappropriate, seeing as how they both knew this was only meant to be a one time thing and it wasn’t real between them, Steve could only frantically nod. “Please,” he moaned so prettily. ”Please, Eddie. P-please, alpha. Make me yours.”

The growl that had been building itself up in Eddie finally let loose. He all but ripped his fingers from Steve, though he didn’t give the poor omega even a second to mourn their loss before he was diving back in, his tongue finally replacing them once more.

“Alpha!” Steve all but shrieked, both hands now curling in Eddie’s hair and this time he did pull Eddie closer, thighs trembling as they’re squeezed against Eddie’s ears, keeping him boxed in against his heat. Eddie was more than happy to oblige.

Steve arched off the bed as Eddie expertly tongue fucked him, crying out with each thrust and curl of the appendage inside his core. Eddie’s fingers dug into the thigh hooked over his shoulder as he pressed so close he was suffocating in Steve’s moist scent, his other hand having to squeeze his own balls trapped against the bed so he didn’t pop a knot just from eating Steve Harrington out.

He ate with a ferociousness, licking and sucking and biting and thrusting, until Steve was nothing but a babbling, sobbing mess. He could feel and taste the gushing of Steve’s eager cunt, how tightly he began squeezing around Eddie’s head and tongue, how he was trembling beneath him so tightly coiled, so close, close, close—

Steve came with a scream, his cocklet squirting over his own chest.

Eddie nearly laughed with glee as his face was soaked with Steve’s release, swallowing the rush down with greedy swipes of his tongue. He kept licking and sucking at Steve’s swollen walls and lips until Steve’s fingers tugged a little too forcibly at his hair, overly sensitive and aching. Eddie did laugh then, chuckling as he lifted from his prize and immediately sought out Steve’s other lips.

Steve moaned into the sloppy kiss, bent nearly in half with his leg still over Eddie’s shoulder, panting against Eddie’s mouth and shuddering at the taste of himself. Teeth clacked together as Eddie couldn’t quite stop smiling, smearing Steve’s own juices over the other boy’s face.

“Damn, baby, I almost burst just from tasting you,” he lightly huffed, trailing his lips to Steve’s ear and swiping his tongue along the shell of it, causing another sharp whine to leave the omega. He smirked, slowly letting Steve’s leg slide from his shoulder to the crook of his elbow. “But we’re not finished yet, sweetheart.”

Without giving Steve a moment to react, Eddie pulled back, tossing Steve’s leg over to his other side to give him the space necessary to grab the other boy by the hips and—thanking the muscles that came from hauling around heavyass amps and drums every week—flipped Steve over until he was on his front.

A startled squawk left the omega, causing Eddie’s smirk to become a small grin, especially when he then pulled Steve up to his knees and pressed the length of his cock against the boy’s pussy, pulling out another moan from Steve beneath him.

Eddie paused though, swiping his fingers lightly over Steve’s hips, giving the other boy a moment to catch his breath. Steve shakily held himself up on his forearms, his body twitching like he didn’t know if he wanted to move forward or back against Eddie’s body. His entire body was slick with sweat, and god if Eddie didn’t want to see just what else he could wring from the boy.

“What’s your color, baby?” he quietly asked, his voice gruff with desire. It took every drop of strength within himself not to rock against Steve’s hips. “It’s not too late to stop now.”

But Steve shook his head roughly at that. “No,” he gasped and groaned, and though when he looked over his shoulder there was a pinch of anxiety around his eyes, his voice didn’t waver. “It’s green, Eddie. My color…it’s green.” Steve drew in a shuddering breath. “Knot me, alpha. Please.”

Christ on a cracker. Eddie let out a heavy groan at that, and then he couldn’t stop himself from thrust his hips against Steve’s, the tip of his cock sliding through the soft folds of Steve’s swollen pussy.

Whatever smirk had started spreading on Steve’s lips at Eddie’s groan was knocked from him by the action, a moan of his own escaping him. Eddie pulled back, taking himself in hand to line himself up, before pausing again.

“Are you certain you want me to come in you? No condoms, or…anything?” If he was meant to knot Steve, it wasn’t like he could pull out, but he didn’t want to cause Steve any worry. Since Steve wasn’t in heat then it wasn’t likely for anything to catch, and he’d give Steve a morning after pill too just in case, but he wanted to make absolutely certain that Steve was serious about going raw.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve groaned, sounding exasperated and annoyed. “If you don’t stick your dick in me right no—OWH GOD!”

Well, it had sounded like permission enough.

Eddie thrust forward as soon as he was certain that Steve was certain, bright green and certain, and then he was sliding home into Steve’s tight, wet heat like it was where he had always belonged.

After two orgasms and being properly loosened and relaxed, there was little to no resistance, Steve’s body squeezing around him to suck him in deeper. A sound like the air being punched from his lungs left Steve as his head dropped to the pillows before him, thighs trembling.

It was…fuck. It was unlike any pussy or ass or mouth or anything else that Eddie had stuck his dick in before, Steve’s body an inferno and—before tonight—untouched. A soft keen left Steve’s lips as Eddie slowly slid in, deeper and deeper, until their bodies were flush against each other.

“Fuck, baby boy, it’s like you were made for me,” Eddie panted, and he could feel the sweat spilling down his back, over his chest, down his thighs at the sweet pleasure and effort it took not to move. “Your virgin pussy feels so perfect, omega, made just for my thick cock.”

He knew he was supposed to ruin Steve tonight, was supposed to fuck him hard and deep so that there was no denying what had occurred tonight, to save him from an unwanted bonding, but…

He needed to make certain that Steve was okay. Despite Steve’s earlier assumptions that Eddie would just take and take and take, he wasn’t that sort of alpha. No, instead he wanted to give and give and give. And maybe take just a little bit as well.

As he felt Steve flutter around him, clenching and releasing as his omega body naturally accumulating to an alpha cock inside him, Eddie slowly rocked in circles, taking pleasure in the hitched breathing of the boy as he adjusted. Of course, it wasn’t just for Steve either. Eddie feared that if he moved too quickly, he’d pop his knot and bust a load immediately, more turned on than he had ever recalled being before.

Eventually, however, a small whine came from Steve, and then the boy was pressing back against him. “Eddie,” he moaned. “Need you, alpha…”

“I’ve got you, omega,” Eddie answered immediately, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist as he laid himself over the boy’s sweat-sticky back. He nuzzled into the back of his hair with a rumble in his chest. “M’gonna knot you so good, omega. Gonna make you scream for me. Gonna fill you with my seed so everyone knows you’re mine.”

Oops.

That last part was probably a bit too much, because Steve wasn’t his, but before he could backpedal and try to explain that he was just in a role right now, Steve was moaning and pressing even further back against him with a needy whine.

“Fuck, yes, alpha. Show them I’m yours,” he panted. “Mark me up. Ruin me, alpha, please.”

How was Eddie supposed to do anything but answer that request?

Steve was already marked with blossoming bruises, but Eddie couldn’t help but leave more, sucking biting kisses along Steve’s neck, shoulders, and back, though he avoided the mating gland he knew that Steve had been worried about. That Steve had trusted him with. That fact shouldn’t make him feel the way it did, yet it did.

That strange urge to protect Steve began rearing its head again, causing Eddie to squash it down and focus on what was real between them: nothing but hot, no-emotions sex for a specific purpose.

(If that purpose was to protect Steve from an alpha who would hurt him, well, that was neither here nor there at the moment.)

Eddie finally pulled back again, sliding slowly out of Steve until just his tip remained inside. He relished in the needy whine Steve let out, though he didn’t let the boy finish it before he was slamming back inside the omega with a bruising grip on his hips.

A choked off cry left Steve at the force, followed by a shuddering gasp as Eddie repeated the process, working his hips as he thrust into Steve over and over again. All of it Steve took willingly, spreading his thighs more as pushed back against the alpha drilling into him, back arched like a bitch in heat.

Eddie did not let up, tilting his hips as he brought Steve backwards to meet him, angling for that spot inside of Steve and knowing he found it again when Steve let out a sharp cry, even his forearms giving out on him until Steve fell face first into the bed.

“You feel so good, omega,” Eddie panted between thrusts, the cheap bed frame beneath them creaking and groaning as the force of his thrusting made it hit the wall repeatedly. Slick dripped from Steve with every thrust, pulled out of him by Eddie’s dick, the wet sound of their bodies moving together louder than even the raging storm outside.

Steve made an attempt to speak, but it came out as little more than an incomprehensible and drooling moan as Eddie nailed Steve’s g-spot over and over again. Were Eddie not holding Steve’s hips up to fuck into, he was certain Steve would have collapsed fully to the bed.

“So fucking tight,” Eddie moaned. “So wet for me, omega. Such a good boy.” That caused another high pitched keen to leave Steve, causing Eddie to grin. “You like being my good boy? Like taking my cock? Bet you’d look so pretty choking on it.”

Shit, he was close. There was no denying that with how well Steve was taking his dick, wet and hot and so inviting, keening moans leaving Steve amidst cries of pleasure. Literal cries of pleasure, tears leaking from Steve’s lids as Eddie fucked him closer and closer to his own climax, his fingers weakly scrambling in the bedding for purchase.

“Look at you taking my cock so well. Like a fucking pro,” Eddie groaned, sliding one hand from Steve’s hip to glide over Steve’s sweaty back and curl his fingers into Steve’s messy hair. He clenched his fingers in the strands, pulling slightly, causing Steve to let out a whining shout and shudder around Eddie.

Eddie’s knot, which had already begun filling, nearly fully popped right then and there at the sound. Christ, he needed to come now.

“Good boy, such a good boy,” Eddie breathed, feeling his growing knot pressing against Steve with every thrust. One hand still in Steve’s hair, he slid his other under Steve’s chest, sitting back on his heels and pulling Steve with him until the omega was all but riding him…had he the presence of mind to do so.

A sharp cry left Steve at the new angle, thighs and entire body trembling as the force of gravity made him take Eddie deeper, and finally Eddie’s knot fully popped inside the omega’s quivering body. The wet heat felt like coming home.

Holding Steve to him, pulling his head back against Eddie’s shoulder to expose his gorgeous neck already dotted with his bruising marks, Eddie thrust up as much as he was able only a handful of times more before his release broke.

As his spend flooded inside of Steve, Eddie’s teeth found purchase in Steve’s neck once more, clamping to the small protrusion of Steve’s mating gland to suck a deep, dark bruise over the area every instinct in him was telling him to pierce and bleed and claim.

He didn’t though, of course, because he wasn’t some knothead and Steve trusted him, but he would make it known that Steve was not untouched in the greatest way imaginable.

And if his inner alpha was whispering that it was a promise, well…no one needed to know that.

Steve’s hoarse voice cried out as he arched against the bite, the knot, everything Eddie was doing to him and giving him, reaching back to grab old of Eddie’s hair as his cocklet squirted again across the bedding as he clamped down hard on Eddie with a flood of his own release.

Eddie’s arm across his chest kept him close, his hips jerking in small thrusts as they rode their shared orgasm together. Without even truly knowing what he was saying, Eddie whispered quiet though filthy praises in Steve’s ear.

It was only when Steve turned truly boneless against him, wrung dry and yet filled with Eddie, that Eddie carefully maneuvered them back against the bed, their heads at the foot of the bed as he rolled them to their sides. A small whine left Steve at the pull of their bodies, held together by Eddie’s knot, but he made no other protest.

Steve’s gasping breaths matched his own, chest heaving as he panted for air, and despite knowing this wasn’t real, Eddie couldn’t help but gently nuzzle into Steve’s sweaty hair, placing a soft kiss to the dark bruise on Steve’s mating gland.

The feeling of Steve against him, of his knot inside the other boy, the mingled scent of Steve and sex thick and heavy in the room…fuck, Eddie wanted more of it, he realized with a sudden pit in his stomach.

Steve—Harrington hadn’t been anything like he had expected. Sure, it’s not like they had had a truly meaningful conversation before they’d fallen into bed, but Eddie had seen and heard enough. The person he had thought Harrington to be simply didn’t seem to exist. Steve wasn’t the pampered, spoiled prince everyone thought him to be.

Well, maybe he had been a little spoiled, but he certainly hadn’t been pampered. Not if he was willing to pay the town’s drug dealer to fuck him and hurt him just to get away from his parents’ machinations. How much of Steve had been Steve? And how much had been the puppet of his parents?

Did Steve even know?

Even he could…acknowledge that the Harrington of this past year—hell, even more so these past few months—was not the Harrington of last year. Ever since that first time Steve came to school busted to hell because of Byers, something about the boy had changed. And now…shit.

Shit hell goddamn fuck.

Steve had shown up at his door, desperate and afraid, but oh so fucking determined. He’d come expecting a night of pain and being roughly used with no thought to his own pleasure or wellbeing, only being broken and used up so that no purity obsessed alpha would want him, all just to get out of an unwanted mating.

Because, in his parents’ eyes, he was nothing more than a piece of meat to be put up for auction.

There was something more to Steve Harrington than he had ever expected, more to the strange omega who was unlike any omega he had ever met before. An omega who was willing to do anything to protect himself, even if it meant getting hurt in the process.

Steve was purring.

Eddie froze for a moment, realizing he was still nuzzling Steve, still lightly kissing over his neck, still gently running soothing circles over Steve’s belly, and that Steve had begun purring as he melted into Eddie’s embrace as they both waited for Eddie’s knot to go down.

Shit.

Eddie didn’t know Steve, not really. Knew him only by reputation, but that was obviously false, or at least exaggerated. Steve was practically a stranger to him. And yet…

And yet Eddie wanted nothing more than to protect the omega in his arms who trusted him to keep him safe, at least to a certain degree.

Stupid fucking biology.

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that, even if he was interested in getting to know Steve more, there was no way that Steve would want anything more to do with Eddie after tonight. He had gotten what he wanted and Eddie…well, Eddie wasn’t stupid.

Sure, maybe his rants about forced conformity and biological slavery were enough to convince Steve he’d probably be safe enough with him, but Eddie knew the truth. What greater disappointment was there than having a Munson be the one to steal the precious golden boy’s virginity?

The super senior, drug dealing, trailer trash, poor excuse of an alpha Munson who had no hope for a future that didn’t include the bars of a cell or six feet underground.

Why would Steve ever want anything more to do with him after tonight?

next

Author commentary:

So, besides a little minor ficlet here, this is the first time I’ve published some genuine smut publicly. This is also the first time I’ve ever written intersex omega smut, which for some reason vaginal sex was just harder for me to actually write. It was fun though. Might have to do it again.

I was originally going to write the part where Eddie finally penetrates Steve as a quick and sudden thing, but it ultimately felt more genuine for Eddie to pause and get Steve’s continued verbal consent again, just to check in on him. Consent is highly important to me.

You also see Eddie starting to realize fully that the douchebag he thought Steve was actually isn’t his true self, that Steve is actually so much more, as well as someone that needs protecting. Something Eddie is finding himself drawn to more and more, despite knowing (or so he thinks) that nothing could ever come of it.

Despite himself, Eddie has already fallen far more than he would ever like to admit to himself. His inner alpha has already claimed Steve as his own, much as he might try to deny it. He fights hard against biology, not wanting to succumb to baser instincts.

The line “And if his inner alpha was whispering that it was a promise, well…no one needed to know that” is probably one of my favorite lines of the entire fic. That scene where he left a mating mark without actually biting Steve was just a favorite in general too.

And Steve’s purring.

Steve has never had reason to purr like that before, so he simply hasn’t. Even when he was with Nancy, he had only seen to her needs while ignoring his own, and she wasn’t really the cuddling type. But Eddie has taken care of him, was praising him, making him feel good, and holding him close in a way that his inner omega is latching on to, even if he is similar to Eddie and believing nothing further will come of it.

As for pregnancy, in my omegaverse headcanon, omegas can get pregnant outside of heats, but it’s harder and less likely. It’s especially harder for male omegas. Even though Steve is wanting to be ruined, it’s only about his virginity, not making him an unmated teen parent. That’s a step a little too far haha.

Once again, morning after pills can be used but like real world Plan B’s, they’re not very pleasant and can either make an omega skip their heat, or make it come earlier and a little more…extreme. Suppressants and birth control don’t really work then either. Suppressants not at all and birth control very minimally. It’s basically like a super heat. And without an alpha, it’s very painful.

I also am incapable of writing Steve without a praise kink. Boy deserves to be praised and Eddie is more than happy to step up to the plate for that.

~

If anyone in the permanent tag list would like to be excluded from this fic’s parts, please let me know and I’ll remove you for this fic only!

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere

As well, temporary tags for this fic only are also still open if anyone else is interested in my bts author commentary.

Temporary fic tags:

@amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @estrellami-1

[pseudophan]

I'm the anon with the questioning 70+ y/o uncle and I have the cutest update (he gave permission to share and said you're amusing (good thing to be))

The day after I made that post Uncle calls me because of a "homosexual emergency" and said emergency was a new guy moving in to the unit next to him at the care facility who was "shockingly gay" and I wasn't sure what my uncle meant until I met the guy the following day, he walked out of his unit wearing shiny sequin dress pants, a shirt that said "move, I'm gay" and a top hat with different hankys glued on to it (yes, for flagging/hanky code reasons). New guy clocks me for being queer immediately and he ends up joining me and my uncle on a walk where they get on great and I heard all about them getting closer over the next few weeks (he showed my uncle Brokeback Mountain and they held each other while they cried through the movie 😭) then yesterday when I visited they shared they decided to try dating and see how it felt. I kept myself together and was super happy and supportive then cried from happiness in my car when I left. Uncle literally found out he was attracted to men and got himself a boyfriend in about a month and I can't even get a text back 😂

I'm not opening the door to ao3, myself and inevitably the staff don't need to be helping him navigate that site especially in October 😂 I am curious what pick up line Dan would say to him but also I don't think I wanna know

(og ask from a few weeks ago)

oh my GODDDD. ok so like first of all. extremely appropriate that your phannie uncle got a boyfriend that fast, like that fully checks out actually. and i just need to reiterate that dan and phil would LOVEEEEE this, so so much. oh that's so sweet :( i hope your uncle and his new boyfriend stay together, might get awkward at the care home otherwise lmao, i believe in them though <3

[horuslupercal]

do babies like this primarch?

Lion: yes. I want you to imagine him picking up a random baby (abandoned on a planet or whatever, make up whatever situation you want as long as it beings you to the mental image of:) and making the most pensive bordering on displeased face. he's holding the baby like a live explosive while they just smile and giggle about it

Fulgrim: yes. Fulgrim, for his part, likes babies as a concept but he does not like holding them on account of them treating him like a giant mobile, complete with yanking his hair. he's happy to just observe the next generation from a safe distance

Perturabo: no. he doesn't like them either so it works out well. don't bring it near him, they'll both be happier that way. will stare at you so hard you cry if you try to hand him a baby

Khan: they're kind of neutral on him until he starts pulling faces when no one's looking and then they're all about it. he doesn't really care about holding them or anything but he's good at holding babies if you hand them over -- do not let this trick you into thinking he knows how to care for a baby. he's clueless

Leman: babies are neutral on him, leaning towards dislike. toddlers though? toddlers love him. toddlers have correctly vibe checked him as a guy who will throw them exactly as high in the air as they want (read: very high) and always catch them

Dorn: not really but if you hand him a baby, they WILL fall asleep. he's warm, his hearts are very loud, he holds them very securely, and they love it, even if they're initially not very happy about it. that said he doesn't really want to hold your baby, even if he won't complain about it. why do people keep handing him babies?

Konrad: there's probably an AU where they do but in HH, no way. even when he's well groomed and all, he's got the whole "filed teeth, starved rat" thing going on and they do not dig it. he doesn't want to hold your baby either so this works out well

Sanguinius: nope. he's too shiny and bright and the wings are offputting. toddlers will pull on his feathers, babies will experience the instinctual fear of being eaten by an eagle. secretly this is kind of a relief, cause Sanguinius is not all too big on babies either

Ferrus: yeah. he thinks it's funny and he especially thinks it's funny that they'll pull the hair and earrings of a man Fulgrim's size. such bold little things. he will not hold the baby though, don't you see his much more social brothers over there?

Angron: children used to love Angron but now they are (rightfully) very scared of him and it is funnysad to me if babies haven't gotten that memo yet. Angron likes babies; he will not like you if you try to hand him one.

Guilliman: yeah sure. that's just a big guy. he can give them a politician kiss without complaint and he's got a surprising skill, for a guy who rarely interacts with them, for soothing them when they're upset

Mortarion: no, absolutely not, no. they don't know he's a person because of the mask. you should not let him hold a baby because of the mask. he does not want to hold your baby. no one is happy here

Magnus: no. he could build a rapport with a baby and especially a toddler but upon first contact, the whole Psyker Vibes thing just makes them hate him. squirming and crying, the works. he's kind of sad about it. sidenote he was definitely helping deliver babies on Prospero on account of his biomancy

Horus: babies hate him and it is the saddest thing in the world. he wants to hold your baby. he will make all the appropriate cooing nosies at the baby. he's fully prepared to talk to them like a little person and wiggle their hands. the baby is gonna wail and push his face away with all the strength in their little arms when he tries to give them a kiss like a proper politician.

Lorgar: baby catnip. he's the most photogenic Primarch, there is not a single picture where he does not look at his best, and that includes all of the pictures of him blessing a baby and/or giving them a kiss. this is useful cause people keep asking him to bless their babies and the baby is sooooo happy about Lorgar holding them. and they looooove to stare at him

Vulkan: I'm legitimately torn but I lean towards babies liking him, which is good, cause Vulkan definitely likes babies and hearing about their milestones and about toddler's little escapades. also cause it's fun to imagine this also extending to nonhuman (read: eldar) babies so he can experience the worst emotions in his life

Corvus: no but at least they usually won't cry about it. you hand him a baby and they just freeze up until you take them back. he doesn't know what to do with babies either. congrats, please don't make him interact with them

Alpharius Omegon: oh yeah. it's inexplicable but babies just like being around them and staring at them. neither of them knows how to handle a baby. I can also envision one of them standing around making small talk to a toddler exactly like they would to an adult, which toddlers LOVE

[marlynnofmany]

Monkey Chase

I stepped off the loading ramp and got a good view of the reason why we’d landed in the wrong part of the spaceport. A giant cargo hauler lay on its side, broken and bent — had a ship crashed into it, or had the engine exploded? I couldn’t tell from here — and large slabs of spaceship insulation gel sprawled everywhere. The hauler’s cargo, clearly. As I watched, three people with a hovercart tried to shove one aside to no effect, and another slab as big as a cross-section from my old apartment on Earth slowly peeled off from inside the remains of the hauler. It hit the ground with the squishiest thud I’d ever heard - the thing was the color of smoke, but dense enough to make the ground vibrate from here.

I whistled, then regretted it when the tentacle alien on the ramp beside me scrunched up at the sound. “Sorry,” I told Mur.

“Ow,” he said, uncurling his blue-black tentacles. “Was that a human swear? It’s sharp.”

“More of a ‘wow-look-at-that’ kind of noise,” I said. “But swearing would sure be appropriate. What a mess.”

“You said it. Glad it’s not our problem.”

Captain Sunlight came down the ramp to join us, regal as ever in the bright yellow scales that had given her the name. “Our client isn’t answering,” she said. “I’ve put in a request at the local medcenter to see if they’ve been injured in this crisis, but haven’t heard back yet. Anyone interested is welcome to join me in walking over to where their ship was meant to be parked.”

Three other crewmates followed her out of the ship: Blip and Blop in their flowiest silks that both matched their fin colors and also showed off their biceps, and Zhee with his purple exoskeleton as shiny as always. They all made quiet noises of dismay at the state of the spaceport.

(Well, Blip and Blop seemed dismayed. Zhee was looking down his nonexistent nose at whoever had been careless enough to cause such a mess.)

Mur waved a tentacle. “Lead the way,” he said to the captain. “Here’s hoping the ship isn’t buried under all that.”

“Yeah, it looks heavy,” I said as we moved out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a little ship could be crushed under that, especially if it also took damage from whatever kaboom happened in the first place.”

As we got closer, I made several observations in a range of importance. A medical shuttle was zipping off toward the city center while another appeared to be waiting around just in case; the medics were standing there chatting instead of tending to anyone. The gel slabs couldn’t be pushed, though they could be lifted with a big enough gravity platform. There was only one of those here. Cleanup was going to take a while. The slabs covered a large area of ground as well as a couple ship-sized lumps, turning the spaceport into a sea of smoky gray translucent rubber.

A small creature bounced around on it. People were shouting about that.

“What’s going on over there?” I asked.

Captain Sunlight sighed deeply and sped up. “I really hope that’s not our cargo.”

��Our cargo’s an animal?”

“Yes, among other things. I thought I told you, but I guess not; it was a last-minute addition to our load. Someone’s exotic pet.” She looked up at me with concern on her lizardy face. “How are your animal-catching skills?”

“Depends on the animal,” I said, squinting at the fast-moving thing. I was the critter expert on the ship, but I didn’t want to promise anything. “What species is it?”

“I’ll bring up the description in a moment,” Captain Sunlight said. “I think I see our client over there.”

She was right. The slender Frillian with a leash and an exasperated expression did turn out to be the person we’d come to meet, and the various spaceport officials on the scene had no any easy answers about how to catch his pet.

“Normally he comes running for food!” the client exclaimed. “But he’s got plenty to pick from here!” He pointed accusingly at the spill of fruit from a truck smashed open by a slab of gel.

“Oh, like that’s my fault?” said a Heatseeker who was busy gathering fruit. “Half my stock is ruined! Go catch your little menace and stop complaining.”

This led to a rant about how impossible the menace in question was to catch when he didn’t want to be — giving him a bath had to be done by trickery — and he was never going to come down from this playground full of food, and oh the man should have just paid for a transit that allowed him to bring pets.

Zhee muttered agreement at that last, but I don’t think the guy heard him. Spaceport officials offered calming words and a reminder that nets had been sent for.

Captain Sunlight asked one of them, “Is there an animal-handling service anywhere nearby?”

“Nowhere close,” was the answer.

She looked back up at me. “Any bright ideas? Here, I’ll show you the description.”

While she unfolded a screen and brought up the information from this particular courier gig, I watched the jumpy creature carefully. He was close enough for a good look now, since he’d come back to snatch another alien citrus off the ground, making the owner yell after him.

My first thought was “monkey,” followed by “frog.” The animal was long-limbed and green, though with velvety fur instead of an amphibian’s shine, and had a tail that could hold fruit just as well as his hands could. Pointy nose, round ears, and the biggest eyes of anyone here except for Zhee. He could probably see a person sneaking up from behind. He was fast. And he was clearly having a great time jumping from one bouncy surface to another, making chattering noises and spitting citrus peel everywhere.

“It’s called a treeleaper,” Captain Sunlight told me. “Warmblooded, diurnal, omnivorous, and ‘a bit of a troublemaker.’”

Mur snorted. “Sounds like your species,” he told me.

“Just with a tail,” Zhee added.

“I wanted a tail as a kid,” I said absently, thinking hard. I’d just caught sight of a shipful of humans disembarking nearby, on the other side of the biggest pile of gel. They looked like they were in pretty good shape. One was already walking on the gel and laughing about the bounce.

I had an idea. “Excuse me, Captain. I think I see reinforcements,” I said, then ran off toward my unsuspecting kinfolk. When I got close, I took great pleasure in yelling, “Hey humans! Who wants to help me chase a monkey across a trampoline??”

They were all smiles and questions, then when I led the way to where they could see the monkey-frog jumping around with stolen fruit, they volunteered immediately.

“I’ll get the small cargo net!”

“Do you think the big gravity wands will slow it down?”

“Bet you a cleaning shift that I can grab it in a towel.”

“You’re on!”

I told Captain Sunlight that I had successfully recruited some animal-catchers, and she didn’t bat an eye, just suggesting that our crew gather similar tools from our own ship. Zhee and the twins rushed off while Mur stayed to yell suggestions.

The other humans were already venturing into the bounce zone. I hurried to follow, grabbing a fist-sized lime thing from the ground as I did. We made a wide circle before closing in.

The treeleaper saw us coming, of course. Threw a half-eaten fruit at one person and made a rude noise at another, then sprang up to ricochet between surfaces like an unholy pinball.

Thus began a merry chase.

It brought back memories of bouncy houses and birthday parties at the trampoline gym. The gel was tough enough to take an impact without doing more than denting briefly and launching a person hooting into the air, to rebound off another surface and hopefully not smack into anyone else in midair. There were a couple close calls. But that just made everything funnier somehow.

I jumped off one gel wall with and hit another with my shoulder, making the monkey-frog turn a 180 back towards a pair of guys with gravity wands. He tried to spring away to the side, but I threw my lime to bounce off a surface nearby, spooking him enough to change direction yet again. Somebody slid down a gel slab like a rubbery playground slide, yelping as that turned into a wild tumble. The animal didn’t know what to make of all the flailing and laughter. His hesitation was enough for the gravity wands to lift him partway off the gel, then when he stuck a leg out far enough to jump free, he was immediately bagged by a grinning lady with a cargo net.

Everybody cheered.

The treeleaper growled and tried to scramble free, but no luck. Somebody else caught up and helped tie the net off with a scarf. Everyone settled down to minimal bouncing, and many hands worked together to carry the bundle of ropes and disgruntled animal back to solid ground.

“You got him! Is he okay? He didn’t sprain anything in that net, did he? I hope he didn’t eat too much fruit. He’ll do that if given the chance, you know.” The owner was grateful and worried and relieved and talkative.

Eggskin had arrived from our ship with a medical scanner, and thankfully they could put everyone’s mind at ease about the state of our animal cargo. The treeleaper was fine. It had a stomach full of fruit and a bloodstream full of adrenaline, but all it needed was a nice nap in its carrying cage.

I considered asking why it hadn’t been in the carrier before, when the rented shuttle got its windows smashed, but I didn’t.

A small hand patted my back, as far up as it could reach. “Earning your keep once again,” said Captain Sunlight.

I laughed. “That was my pleasure.”

Another human lingering nearby asked, “Is there anything else that needs catching? That was great.”

“Yeah, you should sell tickets to this!” agreed another.

A Frillian in a port uniform said, “No, but thank you.” She paused, then added, “Hm. I wonder if that’s worth suggesting to the owner of all this insulation. It’s useless for its intended purpose now that it’s breached the sanitation shielding.”

I smiled. “It still makes an excellent trampoline even with footprints all over it. Lay those out in an empty field and charge people entrance, and they could make back a decent amount of money. You get plenty humans through this port, right?”

The woman who’d caught the treeleaper said, “We’re here early for a family reunion before the big festival, then there are three or four sporting events in a row. Let us know if that does happen, because we can get you a lot of humans interested in jumping on this stuff.”

I had to leave with the animal cargo back to our courier ship, so I didn’t hear how the rest of the conversation went, but I saw the official bring the representative of the hauling group over to meet the humans. He looked very interested in what the spokesperson had to say.

I grinned at the scene as I walked away: the intense conversation in front of the vast playground of bouncy surfaces. I wondered if we’d get a chance to come back for a visit when they got it set up properly.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[russellsppttemplates]

hey! this is my first time requesting something so i’m not too sure what to ask for !

would love to see some oscar fluff tho 🥹🥹

Note: I'm happy you sent in a request, feel free to always share your ideas! 🫶 also, this was totally not written from personal experience 🙄

Tw: reader accidentally gets hurt

Dating an athlete meant that your holidays would often include adventurous plans like hikes and trails. For this afternoon, Oscar wanted to check out a hike near the beach where you could walk along the coastline.

"You don't have to go if you don't want, love", Oscar assured you as you put on your sports bra, "I want to, it's supposed to be very beautiful and it's a nice change of scenery from the pool", you smiled, getting your trainers, "these should be okay, right? I only have sandals and flip-flops and those are definitely not appropriate footwear", you reasoned, "yes, I don't think it will be slippery, more dusty I think", your boyfriend offered, grabbing his own trainers so he too could lace them and you could get going.

It started quite easily, the steps carved into the rocks from erosion clear and well limited, making you follow Oscar quite easy, "wow, look how blue the sea is!", he gasped as you reached a balcony like area looking out the coast line, waves hitting the rocks and turning into white foam.

"It says here the water line can go up and cover all of those rocks completely", you read on the wooden and metal informative plaque, pointing with your fingers, "Osc!", you squealed when you noticed he was taking a photo of you, "at least warn me first so I can sort myself out!".

"You look beautiful, love", he smiled, shoving his phone back in his pocket and circling his arms around your waist.

"I am sweaty and shiny from the suncream and my hair is all tangled from the wind", you pouted as you tamed down the little hairs that never seemed to lay flat unless they had a lot of product on them.

"You look lovely, believe me", he stole a quick kiss, "let's continue?", he urged, pulling you with him.

The trail started to shrink as the flat ground approached the line where the rock stopped and a couple of feet wrong and you'd be down in the rocky wall in no time, "can you hold my hand, please?", you murmured to Oscar, stretching your hand out while the other one was already grasping the safety steel railing chord, "here, I won't let go, I promise", your boyfriend assured as he laced your hand in his.

"We climbed all of this, so now we have to go down, be careful, okay?", he warned after you had taken a rest break to admire the view.

"It's fine, I'll be careful", you added, getting up and following him down. You didn't see one of the steps, so you went right over it, not measuring the distance properly and falling on your butt.

At the yelp you let out, Oscar was quick to turn around and help you, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked, checking over any injuries, noticing a little cut on your thigh and a graze on your elbow.

"Just bumps and scratches - and a sore butt", you pouted, accepting his hand to be pulled up to a standing position, "can you walk all the way back or fo you want me to carry you?", he wondered, "I'm fine to walk", you smiled, kissing his cheek and carrying on.

As soon as you arrived back at the hotel, Oscar stopped by the reception to ask for a first aid kit, taking it with you to the room so he could help.

"I'm sorry it stings, love", he pouted, kissing your thigh to distract you as he made sure the wound was clean and disinfected, "but it's looking good", he kissed your thigh one last time before moving up to your arm, seeing you had already cleaned it, "I can't put the protective band-aid", you explained, having him help you with it too.

"We can stay here for a bit before you go to lunch, how does that sound?", he suggested as he pulled you to cuddle him, "that sounds good", you kissed his lips before making yourself comfy, "my clumsy girl", he kissed the top of your head.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[biancadjarin]

Looked up at me

with honor and truth

pairing: knight!eddie x princess!reader

18+! Smut and adult language.

a/n: I started reading @allthingsjoeq ‘s knight!eddie story and my mind immediately took a turn down a horny side street. Art by @mcbeanzontoast 🗡️

As you and your royal escort reach the end of a particularly long stretch of forest, the soft sound of lapping water tickles your ears. The setting Sun has casted a coral pink hue over the cloudless sky and the moon is starting to become visible.

“I think we should set up here for the night, trying to keep you alive all day is exhausting.” Eddie mumbles at you curtly. He begins to lay out a blanket and drop his satchel and sword on it, spreading out to take a sip of water from his canteen. You watch as a drop misses his lips and trails down his chin onto his shiny chainmail. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and tosses the canteen, laying back onto the soft blanket and with a content sigh.

As the sky turns darker, the ombré of colors fading from pink to purple to blue, stars beginning to twinkle in the distance. A soft breeze blows your hair around your shoulders, the first breeze you’ve felt after a long, hot day. You’re feeling sticky and uncomfortable, wanting to bathe before you retire for the night.

While Eddie rests his eyes you wander off toward the water you heard earlier. Not having to walk far before you come to a small ravine, a jagged short cliff above it pouring water into the mouth of the stream. The winding crystal clear, blue water stretches far past your line of sight, tall trees lining each side. You see a deer in the distance lapping a drink out of it’s edge. You bend down and touch the water and it’s a comfortable warm temperature. You head back to your makeshift camp and grab your things for your bath.

Eddie opens his eyes at the sound of a crow cawing in the distance. He looks around and his heart starts beating faster when he doesn’t see any sign of you. The looming threat of being beheaded nags at him as he starts to panic. He shimmies off his heavy armor and grabs his sword as he begins to search for you.

You’re sitting waist deep in the little river holding your apothecary jar of rose scented oils. The soft lapping around your hips and splashing spray against your back has you feeling relaxed. The early night sky smiles down on you, the full moon casting an ethereal glow over your naked body. You close your eyes and breath in the sweet scent of your oils as you rub them all over your body.

Eddie stumbles out of the trees and finally his heart rate steadies when he sees you. Until he sees your nude breasts and his heart starts hammering twice as fast. His round doe eyes grow wider and you squint your eyes when you see his silhouette.

“Uhhh..” he turns his back to you “Forgive me, princess. I got worried.” You giggle at his sudden manners. And his boyish shyness. “Tis not safe for you to be out here alone.” He chastises.

“But I needed to bathe Sir Edward.” “And you couldn’t wait until the morning?” He asks with his back still to you. “I like to bathe under the moon. Mother always says the most beautiful creatures come out at night.” Eddie shakes his head at your lighthearted tone. “I usually have Rosalind or one of my ladies in waiting help me. But since you’re all that’s here, you’ll do.”

Eddie peeks over his shoulder with raised brows and you smile at him, finger beckoning him to you. He walks towards you, bare feet crunching the grass beneath them. “Princess I don’t think it would be appropriate…” You shush him and toss the sea sponge at him. It lands in his hands with a wet plop.

Eddie takes a deep breath, he’s never seen someone so beautiful. You look like one of the mermaids or sirens he’s read about in his fantasy novels. The moon and stars are sparkling against the water that surrounds you and reflects in your eyes. He wades into the water and walks up to you with a grin that’s impossible for him to hide.

You wordlessly hand him the small glass bottle as you watch his eyes trail over your body. He pours the thick oil onto the sponge and begins to rub your shoulders with it respectfully. Of course you’re capable of washing yourself. Did a pretty good job of it before Eddie showed up. But this opportunity is too good to pass up. You feel your head lull back and let the waterfall cascade over your hair and shoulders. Your chest heaves up towards Eddie’s face and he forgets about the sponge, dropping it and using his hands to massage the oil into your breasts. A few rose petals cling to your skin as his fingertips squeeze the soft flesh. His thumbs settle over the perked curve of your nipples, teasing and tweaking them.

You moan as you feel his hands trail down your sides with a featherlight touch, caressing and squeezing every inch of you like he’s committing it to memory.

“Sir Edward?” He hums in acknowledgment as you pull his attention away from your curves. “When was the last time you had a bath?” You ask knowing full well most knights only bathe once a week, even royal ones. He looks up at you with a devilish grin, knowing where you’re going with this question.

He pulls off his thin cloth top and tosses it into the grass. He is toned and tanned, the body of a man who grew up doing farm labor and then began training and fighting with the royal guard when he hit maturity. The smooth planes of his chest lead to a softly toned stomach, the taut skin pulled over his flexing muscles. He looks down at his pants and hesitates for a moment. “Princess, I don’t want to offend you. But my body has a mind of it’s own. And I’ve had this” he grabs at the bulge in his crotch, “since I first saw you naked.”

You softly swat his hand away and pull his pants fully off, throwing them toward his shirt. His hardened length slaps up against his lower stomach and you bite your lip. His eyes are worried as they wait for your reaction, his cheeks tinted the same soft shade of pink as the head of his cock. Your warm, soapy fingers trail down his chest and stomach and grasp his length, you curl your fingers and begin to pump him.

“Fuck, prin-princess.” His voice strains. His eyes squeeze shut as he focuses on not cumming immediately. Your free hand gets lost in his curls, nails scratching at the base of his skull making him preen and purr like a kitten. You place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, his soft lips parting and chasing after yours.

You moan into his kiss while his hands pull your waist towards his, his strong hands squeezing your hips and ass. You feel the waterfall around you as he pushes you behind it, your bodies hidden behind the curtain of water.

“I could be killed for doing this.” He smiles against your lips. “If you want to stop?” You suggest. He laughs, “I’d rather die than stop.” His hand slips down between your wet bodies and settles between your thighs, where you’re wettest. Your forehead rests on his shoulder as his fingers slip around your folds and begin to circle around your delicate nub. The splashing sounds muffle your cries of pleasure.

Eddie’s mind is racing with thoughts. The feeling of your tight heat around his fingers, your soft body pressed against his, your breasts pressed up against his chest so close he can feel your heartbeat. He hasn’t bedded a maiden in a fortnight, being busy with his knight duties. But the maidens he’s used to are a pale comparison to you. Especially your lack of body hair. Only royalty can afford hair removal.

“Want you to take me Eddie. Deflower me.” You moan into his ear. He shakes his head, “Princess you know I can’t do that. Your husband must deflower you.” He whines. “I don’t care. I want you. Only you.” You say as you lean against the smooth, curved rock and wrap your thighs around his hips. You guide the long, curved length of him into your heat and you both shudder at the slight resistance.

Eddie holds you close as he rocks his hips gently, easing in inch by inch, feeling your tight spongey walls hug his cock like you were made for him. He kisses your neck as you whimper softly, pleasure taking over the stretching feeling. Eddie bottoms out and holds there for a moment, his balls pulsing against your asscheeks. He sets a fast pace as your walls pull him in with every grind of your hips. Every delicious ridge of him hitting all the spots deep within you that you never knew were there, his fingertips dig bruises into your waist while he holds you in place.

His grunts and moans sound like the wolf that almost killed you earlier and you smile as you watch him lose control. Your brave, daring knight, protective and kind, even behind the veil of indignant indifference he’s been showing you all day. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth as your legs start to shake around his waist, the force of your orgasm hitting you suddenly. You squeeze his cock tightly with each roll of your hips as you ride out your high and his movements become sloppy until he presses his hips flush to yours. You feel his hot seed shoot deep inside you and you hope he plants a beautiful flower there. He looks up at you through his wet bangs and smiles, the first real showing of emotion he’s shown you all day.

🗡️

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MASTERLIST HERE

[irisintheafterglow]

hello!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night ^^ I was wondering if u could write about bakugou x deaf reader? Like bakugou’s mom is HOH (which is why she’s always screaming :0) and bakugou knows sign because of that so he can communicate w deaf reader which surprises them!

simple complication, miscommunication (pro!bakugo x deaf!reader)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: established relationship, story of first meeting, strangers to lovers, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (reader does use makeup), guy being an asshole but it's ok because kats scares him away

note: hi!!!! this is probably one of my favorite (if not THE favorite) prompts i've ever received. i'm actually majoring in deaf studies and focusing on increasing deaf/HOH rep in popular media. SO! i really love this prompt. i'm hearing, so i'm always still learning from the deaf and HOH community and acknowledge that i have a lot more to learn! because of this, this is mainly from kats' perspective because i don't think it's appropriate for me, as a hearing writer, to write from the perspective of a deaf reader. i talked way too much, sorry for the long note, and i hope you like this!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous to see his own mother. 

For the twentieth time, he confirmed that the windows were clear of smudges, the floorboards were as shiny as his Hero Award trophies on the living room shelves, and the wiring on the doorbell light was functioning correctly. Everything was as it should have been. Still, an anxious churning in his gut tells him something is wrong and he throws the front door open without thinking, determinedly jabbing his thumb against the button next to the doorknob. As usual, the bright orange light by the “FRONT DOOR” sign above the hallway flashes once. Everything was working as it should have been, so he couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so nauseous. He tests the door light several more times and completely forgets that you were getting ready in the bathroom. 

When he spots you, you’re wearing his bathrobe and a makeup brush is tucked behind your ear. Your eyebrows furrow in concern of why the door light started flashing an hour early as you peek out from the hallway. He gives you an apologetic look, the corner of his mouth turning down in clear dissatisfaction. 

Sorry. Testing the door light. Your mouth opens into an oh of understanding and you nod, taking note of the subtle ways your boyfriend was trying to hide his nerves. His head appears around the corner of the door when you knock your knuckles against the wall to get his attention. 

You’re gonna break your jaw if you keep it clenched like that. His frown only deepens and he can tell you’re trying not to laugh from the way your eyes sparkle. It’s nice that you’re excited to see Mrs. Bakugo again, but he’s already anticipating the tidal wave of disapproving comments about the new place you recently moved into together. Shut the door, Katsuki. You’re letting the warm air out. He reluctantly obeys, following you down the hallway to the master bathroom and hopping up onto the counter to watch you finish your makeup. He’s careful to sit in a spot where you can sign without having to turn to face him; you catch his eye in the mirror’s reflection and put your brush down with a sigh, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Food done? You already know all his dishes have been done since this morning, but you’re still trying to help him take inventory of the things he doesn’t need to worry about anymore. 

Just need to throw some extra stuff on the salad. I’ll do it before we eat. You nod, returning to tapping a neutral color onto your eyelids when you catch his shoulders sag as he huffs. The makeup brush is carefully set down again and your eyebrows return to their expectant position. 

Wanna tell me why you look so… Your fingers flutter around absentmindedly for a few seconds while you look for the right word. Dejected? 

I’m not dejected. 

Your pouty lip says otherwise, you respond with a small smirk. I’ve loved you long enough to read your body language, no matter how stiff or angry. You scrunch your face up in mock wrath and that finally makes him break the tiniest ghost of a smile. Tell me, please, so I can help you. He shakes his head and you set your mouth in a thin line in light-hearted irritation.

You don’t need to help with anything. My mom can just be a lot sometimes. You know that. You shrug, fondly remembering the first time Katsuki brought you to meet his mother. To your boyfriend’s horror, his mother got so excited to sign that she knocked over her wine glass on three separate occasions. And she really likes you, so she might end up accidentally revealing some embarrassing shit about me. 

That’s what I’m hoping for. You shoot him a wink and Katsuki can feel his face become a little warmer. I’m praying that the woman brings baby photos. His face turns a deeper shade of red and you burst out laughing, your smile a sight that he’d never get tired of. Hey, you rap your knuckles against the marble again and force him to look at you. We’ve seen scarier stuff than your mom. 

At least in those situations, I can blast my way out. 

Sure. But, if you blast your way out of tonight, you’re paying for property repairs. He sticks his tongue out at you defiantly and you copy the gesture, smiling to yourself when he slides off the counter and wraps his arms around your torso, resting his chin where your neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers gently trace his cheekbones and he meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. We’ll be fine tonight, Katsuki. I promise. Can’t be any worse than our first meeting, hmm? You feel his chest rumble against your back as he groans, hiding his face in your skin as it heats up again. 

The first time you met Katsuki was a very abnormal case of wrong place, right time. A high-threat crime boss had swiped a political candidate off the street the night before the most important debate of the season, following him as he went out to pick up snacks for his assistants. The candidate was a passionate supporter of public policy protecting the liberties of Pros, and to lose him right before an election would be catastrophic for agencies across the country. To the rest of the city, it was a public emergency; for Katsuki, it was a Tuesday night. 

“Pro on the scene, clear out!” His boots cross the police tape and the cops part the way for him like he was an activated grenade, avoiding his gaze and conveniently finding new tasks that were out of his firing range. Someone from some federal agency approaches him blabbing nonsense about how disastrous this would be if the press arrived and he all but tunes them out, his focus zeroing in on a scene happening just outside of the barricaded perimeter. 

It wasn’t uncommon for policemen to command passing civilians to keep moving, but something about the confrontation he quietly approached felt different. In any other case, the civilians would ask the police about something they weren’t allowed to disclose and then they would leave, maybe sticking around to get their ten seconds on the nightly new segment. You were clearly not like those civilians.

“Hey! I’ve got a job to do, so you better get the hell out of here or I’m gonna charge you for disturbing a crime scene!” The cop was screaming at you to the point where his voice broke and you didn’t even flinch, continuing to stare daggers into him from pure frustration. He tries to yell again and you cut him off with a series of ridiculously exaggerated gestures, looking at the policeman like he was dumb as rocks. “I don’t have time for this, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying!” But Katsuki does. 

“Oi!” The cop doesn’t hear him as he storms across the concrete, palms crackling. 

“Fuckin’ crazy–” You look ready to bite off the accusatory finger the cop points in your face when a strong gloved hand wraps around the asshole’s wrist, unceremoniously shoving him out of the way to listen to you himself. “Who the fuck–”

“Get lost, fuckface, and take the uselessness with you,” Katsuki seethes, putting just enough heat into his hands for the guy to yelp and scurry away. He turns around to find a scowl intense enough to rival his own and he takes a deep breath, wordlessly encouraging you to take one too. You watch with caution as he tugs his gloves off and stuffs them in his belt. Sorry about him, he signs and you blink, taken aback. These kinds of scenes make everyone on edge more on edge. 

You know sign?

My mom, she’s hard of hearing. Growing up, she taught me sign as a second language. You nod, still eyeing him a little suspiciously. I need to get back to work, but I just want to apologize for him again. You look like you’re about to respond but he looks down, fishing through a pouch of his belt and pulling out a crumpled slip of paper. This is some coupon I got a while back from a business we saved. Buy yourself a coffee. You take the ripped rectangle with a look of disgust and shock and he nods politely, turning to leave. Before he’s even one step away, he finds himself being yanked backward by the collar of his shirt, readying his Quirk to fire on pure instinct and whirling to stare you down like a bull facing a matador. His palm is scorching against your skin when he grabs your wrist, but you don’t relent. What the fuck are you doing? 

I know where they took him. Give me a map and a marker. His eyes widen and he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, gently guiding you around the barricade, through the crowds of cops, and into the detectives’ truck. He pushes past the people surrounding the table and pulls up a digital map of the city on the touchscreen. 

Everything’s electronic now, so use this as your map, he explains and you nod in understanding, hesitantly tapping a finger on the screen and receiving a bombardment of paragraphs about crimes in the area. Dynamight’s hand moves up and down at the edge of your vision and you look up, still unsure how you’re supposed to use such a complicated piece of technology. I know. It’s over-engineered and stupid. Do you know the exact address where they took him? You shake your head and he grimaces, running a hand through his hair.

I don’t know the address, but I know the directions of how to get there. On this map, where’s the convenience store? His pointer and index finger swipe around the screen, spreading out as he zooms in on the 2D representation of the site where the candidate was taken. You copy his actions and zoom out slightly again, making sure to remember which rectangle was the convenience store. Is there a way to draw on this? Dynamight pushes a button on the edge of the table and a marker pops out. Cool.

It’s the only cool function this thing has. Everything else just makes my job harder, he signs and swears he can see the slightest smile on your face while he hands you the marker. Miraculously, you’re able to copy the navigation route you saw on one of the thug’s phones while you waited in line at the convenience store. You circle the building in bright pink and the Pro wastes no time, barking out orders to surrounding cops and re-donning his gauntlets and one glove. His ungloved hand helps you down from the truck and he pulls you aside, away from the commotion of the crime scene. Do you live near here? 

A few blocks down, yes. He fishes around a pouch on his belt again and retrieves a black ballpoint pen, handing it to you despite your obvious confusion. 

Write down your address, he signs and he holds out the back of his ungloved hand to you. 

Why? 

I’ll come find you after we make the arrests. Maybe you can let me buy you a coffee. A smirk appears on your lips and Katsuki finds his face heating up. 

Is it gonna be with the tattered coupon? He rolls his eyes and you laugh, a sound that he finds he wants to hear again and again. You later explain to Katsuki and the detectives that you were questioning why the guy in front of you had his brightness so high, and the visual eavesdropping was purely by accident. Everything following the investigation felt like happy little accidents, too: Dynamight showing up at your door one night with two coffees and the last muffin the cafe had, Bakugo crashing onto your apartment’s fire escape after a particularly dangerous operation, Katsuki asking you out to dinner officially for the first time, his mother spilling her wine several times the first time she met you. 

You knew you were in for a lifetime of more accidents when Mrs. Bakugo burst through the door fifteen minutes early, excitedly asking what venues you were looking at for your upcoming wedding. 

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