#bewitching miss fortune

[aurelion-solar]

Prestige Coven LeBlanc & Bewitching Miss Fortune Concept Art - Thomas Randby

[itsdl]

theyre both wrong and shes a fucking menace but this lane is ride or die

[slepyborb]

bewitched

[clairdelunelove]

the way that yuuji becomes desperately eager whenever your kissing session with him manages to slip past the boundary of innocence.

it escalates into a scenario that’s directly ripped out of his wildest dreams. but don't get him wrong. he adores every and any type of kiss you grace him with. the casual kiss to his cheek whenever he brings you lunch. the comforting forehead kiss he receives when he’s had a particularly rough day. the teasing kiss nestled in the junction of his neck when his hands grip at you a bit too intimately in public. he’s over the moon. delighted and beyond grateful whenever he opens his eyes in the morning and catches a glimpse of you. whether you’re by his side or he’s waking up to a text from you in the morning. you’ve bewitched him to the point of no return. anyone can perceive it. how he’s brought to his knees by what he deems as the greatest gift in life— the opportunity to be yours. his love is unconditional, true, and pure. 

so imagine the epiphany that seeps within you when your sweet, doting boyfriend starts pressing searing kisses along your neck. it started with an innocent peck. he’s always naturally gentle whenever you’re involved. delicate touches despite the calluses on his hands from labor and strength. you had gently murmured your appreciation when he agreed to meet up with you so late during the night and spend some time with you. he vaguely remembers the reasoning behind your call, a brief comment about how you 'couldn’t sleep' and how it was 'nothing to be concerned about.' honestly, you just missed him. but he sprinted the entire way anyway. a figure with blushy pink hair weaving in and out of alleyways to cut across the neighborhood streets. too quick to actually notice unless you’re innately observant. he pauses in front of you, though. your wide eyes land on his flushed face as he sweeps a hand over his forehead to mop up the sweat from the intense run. and he’s even more attractive underneath the moon’s pale glow. in fact, his devotion towards your wellbeing meant so much that, by the time he can ask if anything was wrong, the two of you are stumbling through your bedroom door. 

it’s sudden. the bed creaks underneath yuuji’s added weight but it goes unnoticed by the male. or rather, it was the least of his concerns because now he’s focused on you. you’re so pretty. basked in radiance that knocks the wind out of him. causes his fingers to inch closer to you. and it’ll physically pain him if he doesn’t do anything so he encircles his arms along the curve of your waist, your hands are carded in his hair, and yuuji would be utterly stupid if he had any complaints. no, this was heaven. for some, this might’ve been labeled as a measly make out session but for yuuji— he believes that this is the bliss that people spend their whole lives trying to achieve.

he’s spiraling out of control due to your affection and soft noises. and clearly you’re not doing any better. your face burns in unabashed desire as he nips at your glossy lips and his next words have you keening. 

“sweet,” his voice comes out breathy and syrupy with want, “you’re so freakin' sweet.” 

lifting you by the underside of your thighs, he sets you down on his lap as a solution to close the gap. leans in to lick at your lips for another taste and pulls away with a dazed grin. there’s a dopey expression on his face. his pupils are blown wide and the tips of his ears are scarlet. vision clouded with you. feels the blood roar in his ears when he pushes the apex of your thighs down so your weight is entirely on him. a noise that borders a whine leaves his lips. and you can distinctively feel the heat of him underneath the thin fabric of your clothes. it’s hot and heavy. there’s no telling where you end and where he begins. 

“this can’t be real,” he chants, like he’s in disbelief of his fortune, “please let this be real.” 

and he’s reduced to blabbering now. brain short circuiting until he’s muttering about anything and everything that revolves around you. you’re soft, pliable underneath all his brawn. the contrast drives him to the brink— it always does. he lifts your hand to his face and presses chaste kisses up your arms. they’re soft, fleeting. that is, until he lays the flat of his hand against your lower back so you’re caving towards him. the squish of your chest on his is maddening. you feel like your body is on fire. wherever he touches you erupts in a warmth that won’t fizzle out and you know that you’re drowning in pleasure. but, like always, yuuji will be there to rescue you. 

“c’mere, pretty girl,” his fingertips brush alongside your hair, “wanna see you some more, yeah?” 

cradling your face in his hand, he squeezes at your cheeks until your glossy lips are puckered and willing. the epitome of tantalizing. his other hand snakes down to grasp onto the plush of your thigh and uses it as leverage to spread you open some more. unveil his present. you’re almost certain that the imprint of his fingers will be visible tomorrow but you can’t seem to care. his honeyed eyes are half lidded as he gazes at you. gulps to quell the tide of desire that flows within him. takes all of his restraint to be patient, let you adjust. he has all the time in the world.

vividly, he hears you panting; you’re breathless and shaky from his ministrations. falling into the delirium that yuuji casts upon you. yet, your fingers trail lower onto his abdomen, the muscles there involuntarily clench and he jerks forward to chase after your touch. he mumbles a quick apology only for his head to drop when you run an earnest hand over the same spot that has him seeing stars. a heady gasp escapes his lips, gets caught in his throat, and the obscene noise floods the room. the sticky sound rocks you to your core. 

your lashes flutter, eyes opening to glance at the door that’s left ajar, and shyly mention, “yuu. the door.” 

and it’s pathetic how quickly yuuji zips up to abide by your order. never allowing you to repeat your words twice because he’s actively listening to you. 

“right!” he stutters, a bit too enthusiastically considering that the change of pace makes his head dizzy, “I’ll close it.” 

moving awkwardly to compensate for the tightness in his lower attire, he gently knocks your knees when he stands and almost face plants as he scrambles to the door. sucking in a breath, he inwardly scolds himself for his clumsiness.

"way to ruin the mood, loser," he ruminates.

embarrassment evident in the way he catches himself before he trips due to his willingness to get back to you. so desperate, so eager to please you. naturally, you’re stifling a laugh when he shuffles back to you.

he plops down on the bed, clears his throat, and widely grins to point out the obvious, “I’m back.” 

and goodness, your heart explodes just from his presence. your sweet boy. you’re even more obsessed with him. his cheeks are a glowy, reddened hue. lips kiss-bitten by your undoing. he runs a hand through his frazzled hair, attempting to pat down the parts that stick up due to your previous touches and scrunches his nose when his actions are futile. you instinctively reach out to help and his eyes immediately soften. 

the boyish charm he has never fails to put a smile on your face and you’re replying before you can think better of it, “wanna continue?” 

and the next kiss you share is followed by an overly eager yuuji. it's filled with toothy grins and soft giggles— inherently him. your heart swells and soars.

[jadedvibes]

to be his wife 🥰

Mrs. Barber

Oh what a dream ♡ Let's imagine what it'd be like if after leaving his ex he met a lawyer that was his ideal match.

Pairing: Andy Barber x lawyer!reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, swearing, fluff, possessive!andy sprinkled in.

Word Count: 825

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

From the moment he stepped into the courtroom and saw you were opposing counsel Andy knew he was screwed. The whispers of the woman that could rival him as a prosecutor moving to the district didn’t contain how beautiful you were.

Your stellar professional reputation preceded you, but your bewitching presence was a surprise that completely caught him off guard.  

Andy wasn’t one to get flustered under the pressures of the court, but when you looked at him, his speech briefly stuttered along with his heart. Your words flowed eloquently, and your confidence made him grateful that it was an open-and-shut case, because once court was adjourned he decided that a woman as brilliant as you belonged with him.

He pursued you until you gave in, but it was a lot harder than he anticipated. You weren’t looking for anything, yet his persistence ensured that you found it anyway. The man wore you down with his kindness, helpfulness, and those dazzling blue eyes always giving you his undivided attention. Despite your cynicism, you let yourself fall for the lawyer with the complicated past. 

Fortunately, Andy ensured that you didn’t regret it. And to further prove his commitment, he proposed after six months of dating you, simply because he needed you to be his, in every way possible. 

Just like he made you his, every night since you agreed to go out with him. You thought it might be a bit too early to sleep with him after your first official date. But as he helped you out of his Audi and walked you to your front door with your hand firmly in his, you knew exactly what was going to happen. 

“Tell me to leave, honey,” he mumbled against your lips after kissing you goodnight. 

“But I want you to stay,” you whispered before opening your door. 

He took care of you that night, worshiping every inch of your body, just like he wanted to from the moment his eyes laid on you. 

Your attraction couldn’t stay confined to just your places at night, and that’s how stolen kisses at work turned into making love behind locked office doors. But sex wasn’t always like that, sometimes he’d fuck you, quick and rough, just enough to get you both there. Other days, he’d take his time, dominating you hard and slow; whispering the filthiest words you’d only hear when you got him like that. 

“That’s it, honey. Go soft under me, fuck – this pussy’s so fuckin’ tight it’s like she wants to keep me inside,” Andy groaned against the shell of your ear, his beard grazing against your soft skin as he pounded into you. You felt him everywhere; his warm lips, his large hands, his hard length roughly sinking into you over and over again. Until you were screaming his name, barely able to hear him mutter how well you squeezed his cock and how pretty you were as you came for him. 

The two of you eloped on a weekend trip in Portland, and the main thing that changed once you were officially his wife was that his adoration and devotion became even more intense. 

Andy was a self-assured man, but now that you were his, you didn’t miss the way his possessiveness lingered whenever you interacted with other male colleagues. In fact, you loved the way he’d make it apparent that you belonged to him. You loved it even more when he took you home and reminded you that you were his Mrs. Barber – as if the ring on your finger and the hold on your heart wasn’t indication enough. 

His protective nature, the way he cherished you as a partner and always took care of you made you fall for him more and more every day. A few colleagues at work even mentioned that you changed him for the better. He didn’t hide the fact that he was once a workaholic that prioritized his job more than anything in his past relationship; instead he made sure that you knew that you were his top priority through his actions. You were his new beginning, a chance to do things differently, and he certainly made the most of that. 

Andy was the perfect husband to you, his wonderful wife. 

Because you were his ideal partner. You were the warm softness to his rough exterior – although you were strong when you needed to be and Andy really admired that. You were the one that he trusted to tear down the tall walls he’d built up over the years. He needed someone that didn’t judge him about his past, that actually appreciated him, and saw him for the deeply caring man that he was. It amazed him how you fit the bill in every sense; a fact he expressed gratitude for often. 

And now that Andy loves you, he can never stop. Because you’re his better half, his gorgeous and amazing wife, his Mrs. Barber.

[underneath-the-sidras]

I'm Addicted to the 'If Only'

for @nessianweek Day 2: Yearning

Summary: There were times. Times when the ale in her cup had softened the roaring in her head to a dull hum. When she was half asleep, or bewitched by a particular tune the string players were playing at the tavern. Times when Nesta's mind would wander towards the shimmering light in the back of her mind, and picture what could have been. With Cassian.

OR

Nesta gets drunk and is simply a woman with fantasies / ACOFAS AU?

A/N: Felt cute, might delete later. I'm going to be honest, I've never done this before. Done what you ask? All of it! Unfortunately, an idea wiggled into my brain and I needed to write it out. Fortunately, the stars aligned and this worked out for Nessian week! That and @separatist-apologist is very good at convincing others to write their first fics. It's very imperfect, but I'd like to think of it as a way to thank all the wonderful writers in the Nessian community who have kept me well-fed with all their beautiful work for so long. This fic is inspired by the song "I Look in People's Windows" by Taylor Swift.

On AO3

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

Snow was falling over Velaris.

Nesta watched as flakes the size of silver coins dropped onto roofs and the heads of passersby as they bustled by the tavern window. The city would soon be completely covered in white, the snowflakes layering on top of one another in the street until they became an impenetrable sea of snow. She used to hate the winter in the mortal lands, how it ran their food scarce, how it forced her to rely on snuggling close to her sisters for warmth. But as she observed from the warm interior of the tavern, she was beginning to appreciate the harsh beauty of the coldest season. She liked the hard structure that came from the cold, finding it far more appealing than the dripping nature of the summertime. That, and maybe she had also begun to appreciate the isolation that came with the onslaught of colder weather. Fewer bodies on the streets meant less chance of running into certain fae. 

It had been four months since the final battle with Hybern, and Nesta had since effectively removed herself from the inner circle. Her sisters were now free to live their lives without her, no longer having to dwell on old wounds and painful memories. And Cassian…her thoughts stuttered. She tried not to think about the Night Court’s general when she could help it, casting any lingering thoughts of him to the farthest corner of her mind.

But.

But there were times. Times when the ale in her cup had softened the roaring in her head to a dull hum. When she was half asleep, or bewitched by a particular tune the string players were playing at the tavern. Times when she would wander towards the shimmering light in the back of her mind, and picture what could have been. With him. 

Would he hold her hand while they sat at the tavern, she wondered, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand as the music played. Would he press soft kisses into her hair and carry her home after she complained about her feet hurting? The corners of her mouth threatened to lift at the thought. 

She would teach him how to dance, firmly placing his hands on her waist and admonishing him when they slipped lower. His warm laugh would rumble across his chest, and she could feel it now. Feel how they were pressed together, how warm and smooth his skin felt against hers, and how her heart would thunder as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

One kiss would turn into two, then three until he was backing her up towards the wall of her apartment, his hands fisting in her hair as she cried out “Cassian–”

“Miss?” 

Nesta jolted up from where her head rested at the bar, the bartender looking over her with a mixture of pity and weariness. Her head turned over her shoulder to survey the room, suddenly aware of the vast emptiness of the tavern around her.

“Bar closed about a half hour ago,” he said apologetically, “Is there someone I can get to take you home?” Nesta shook her head, her cheeks heating. She rose quickly from her seat, swaying slightly from the alcohol.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.” She said in a clipped tone. Using everything in her power to remain balanced, she made her way to the door, decidedly ignoring the concerned look of the barkeep. 

The cold wind greeted her instantly, a welcome sobering feeling brushing across her face. Nesta breathed in the chilly air, the ale having warmed her enough that the cold was almost enjoyable. But the bartender’s question still nettled in her mind. Was there anyone to take her home? Who would want to take her home?

The image of the Night Court’s general flashed across her mind. Cassian, her mind seemed to sigh at his name. Would Cassian have taken her home? Perhaps if she had not refused to speak to him after the war, and he had not given up so easily, he would be here. It was impossible given their history, she knew that, but it was at times like these when Nesta’s mind liked to play games of pretend. Pretending she lived in a world where she wasn’t broken and Cassian had stayed. Would he come to nights at the tavern with her or meet Nesta to walk her home, not wanting her to walk alone on the street? 

Nesta didn’t even know if Cassian liked music, or what kind, where his favorite tavern was, or what he liked to drink. 

She didn’t want to know. 

She was desperate to know. 

It was nonsensical to wonder about these things, she knew, but Nesta’s whole body ached with how much she did not know Cassian, and how much he did not know her. He should not know her, the roar in her head tried to scream out, but the foolish part of her was louder as she continued to walk through the snow-laden streets of the city. 

Did it feel alright for him to not know her? Was he tormented by it, wondering what she liked and where she was at every waking moment? Her stomach fluttered at the thought of it. Her drunken mind liked that idea, of him aching for her. 

She pictured taking Cassian to places she liked to go, her favorite tavern where they had string players on weekends, the bookstore on the corner of her street, the bakery next door to it with the chocolate-almond pastries. Letting him get to know her, and enjoying it.

As her mind wandered, Nesta found her feet continuing to walk deeper into the city, eventually pulling her to one of the main shopping avenues of Velaris. There were crowds on the street this evening for some kind of street fair, bundled but smiling fae faces gathered around food stalls and art vendors in the street. Children chased each other, throwing snowballs with all of their might in sorts of make-shift battles. 

Nesta’s foolish heart warmed at the scene. Had she been in her right mind, she would have turned back as she usually did from crowds. But tonight was different, tonight it was almost as if there was a soft golden glow around the edges of her vision, making everything seem beautiful and soft. 

She pushed forward, staying at the edge of the busy street, her stomach grumbling at the scents coming from the food stalls. She watched as a tall male turned from one of the stalls, half of his long dark hair tied in a makeshift bun. 

Nesta froze as her heart dropped into her stomach. It couldn’t be. What were the chances he’d be in this part of the Velaris? 

She should run. She would say something stupid to him, she knew she would. Something recklessly idiotic. But as her heart beat faster, it was not from fear but from hope. Had he come to see her? Desire surged in Nesta’s chest, but her thoughts halted as the male fully turned.

It wasn’t him.

Stupid. The male wasn’t even Illyrian, he had no wings. She was losing her mind this evening. 

Nesta didn’t often come to the busier parts of the city, instead opting to stay in her secluded area of Velaris where she wouldn’t happen to run into any of her sister’s chosen family. But on the rare occasions she did, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cassian would be wandering the streets as well. Both fearful and hopeful while imagining their eyes meeting while sitting in a cafe by the Sidra, or finding him drinking in the tavern next to hers.

If they did cross paths, would he reach out for her, or would he simply pass by? Nesta’s traitorous fingers twitched as she pictured it. Knew how her hands would unconsciously trail after him, how she would inhale his lingering scent to memorize it, even if he paid her no mind.

Her mind was running wild now that she had opened the floodgates. Fantasies of lives she could never have, dreams she would not share aloud even if someone tried to torture them out of her. Marriage ceremonies, children’s names, what their home would look like, and where they would live. Nesta would at first insist on living separately, the thought of living unmarried with a partner a bit scandalous still. But Cassian would sleep over so often, she would eventually acquiesce and he’d move in with her. They would have dinner together every evening when he was not away, Cassian cooking his favorite Illyrian meals for her. She would sleep on the left side of the bed, and him on the right, closer to the door. On hard nights, he would hold her extra close and run his fingers through her hair, soothing her with soft Illyrian melodies. For once her home, their home, would be warm and safe. 

Again it was as though she could feel it now, how her ear would press into his chest and hear the steady beat of his heart, lulling her to sleep. Her eyes closed.

A boisterous male laugh sounded out from nearby, warm and mirthful. Nesta’s eyes flew back open as she jerked towards the source. 

It wasn’t his laugh, but Mother did she want it to be. She closed her fists and took a breath, frustrated and entranced by all thoughts of him. 

Home. She needed to go home. 

Nesta’s steps finally took her back towards the quieter residential side streets of Velaris, her pathway illuminated by the soft glow from the windows lining the homes. She focused her eyes forward, deliberately looking towards the cobblestone at her feet. Cassian was likely in Illyria, as he usually was, training Rhysand’s armies or whatever he did up in those mountains. She had at least had enough sense not to glance towards the peaks that loomed in the distance, a subtle ache nipping at her to think of him so far. 

Instead she turned her gaze to one of the windows of the homes on the street, a rose-golden glow emanating from within. A table of friends, four males and three females gathered around a verifiable feast of a meal, laughing and chatting amongst themselves as they ate.

Nesta stood there entranced, trying to picture herself at that table, with a group of friends enjoying her company like that. Friends. What would it be like to have friends? She had a few in their village growing up, most abandoning her when her mother passed and father fell into debt. The roaring in her head started, threatening the blissful barrier the alcohol had provided. 

Would she ever feel at ease with a group of fae like that?

One of the males looked up and met her gaze, and for a moment she swore hazel eyes pierced hers. Her breath caught, as she fumbled back towards the street, walking once again, embarrassed to have been caught spying. 

It wasn’t him, Nesta assured herself. But she couldn’t get the image out of her head, of him in one of these houses, seated at a dinner table. It was ridiculous. She wasn’t even sure if Cassian had friends in Velaris outside of the Inner Circle. But the idea had sunk its claws into her mind, a desperate, pathetic hope. Every building she passed, Nesta’s eyes flitted to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was inside. She had to know if he was there. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t know.

From that point on, each home she passed was like a scene laid out before her, inviting her to insert herself into the lives of the fae within. Countless lifetimes and possibilities transfixed her, as she continued to watch. It was no longer strangers she was gazing at, but her and Cassian. They were in their living room, dancing with their two children, Cassian picking her up and spinning her while their girls shrieked with delight. They were snuggled up on a sofa together, in front of a roaring fire, Nesta closing her eyes and leaning onto his shoulder. Not a single flinch crossing her face. They were cooking together, Cassian stirring and adding spices to a pot on the stove, while Nesta chopped up something on the counter. Her turning to put what she had been chopping into the pot and pressing a kiss to Cassian’s cheek, who turned to beam at her. They were seated on the floor of their living room together, her handing a beautifully wrapped box to Cassian, who proceeded to open it. 

Back on the street, Nesta reeled back as though she’d been struck. A horrid thought clanged through her. 

What day was it? 

She remembered she had gone to the tavern earlier to listen to some music and have a few drinks before going somewhere. 

To Feyre’s, she realized. 

Feyre had asked her to come to the townhouse this evening because it was…solstice. The tavern had closed early and there was the street fair because it was solstice. She had gotten drunk in order to prepare herself to face Feyre and her family at solstice. 

Suddenly the festive lights and music ringing through the streets came into a sharp clarity, overwhelming her fae senses. 

Panic clawed at her throat, she could not go. She was not ready to face Feyre on her birthday, or Elain. Or Cassian. He would be there, her heart swelled, pulling her feet forward. On this day, she knew where he would be, who he would be with, she just needed to see him. Maybe this could be her one solstice present to herself, she reasoned, to prove that Cassian was not just a being made of whispered fantasies and alcohol-infused delusion. She would just take one look, and then she could go back to her apartment. It was madness, she knew it was, but the sharp sting of reality had not yet taken hold this night. 

Her pace began to quicken, every step faster than the next before she realized she had no idea which direction to turn, thoroughly lost in the maze of the city and her mind in the dark hour. She spun around, almost losing her balance in the slick snow, completely at a loss. The ache in her chest had now turned into a sharp stab of hurt, only to be soothed by the sight of the dark-haired general.

She should turn back, she thought, towards the bustling avenue to start her search there, maybe she would even ask someone for directions. The idea of doing so would usually sour her stomach, but something stronger than fear was driving her tonight. 

She began to walk purposefully, taking only a few steps before her feet skidded to a halt. 

As though it had been dropped from the sky, the massive townhouse loomed before her. Bright festive lights twinkled among the bushes that lined the windows, taunting her as they danced, inviting her to step closer.

Her traitorous feet had been leading her this way the whole time, unbeknownst to her. Nesta bit her lip, did she dare to risk facing her sister’s family tonight? There was a split moment of hesitation before she moved past the front gate. It would only be a brief glance, as soon as she saw those hazel eyes and dark waves she would leave. It would only take a moment.

Nesta didn’t bother going towards the door, electing instead to creep along the outside of the home. What room would they be in at this hour? She made her way towards the right set of windows she remembered as part of the living room. She could only pray the Shadowsinger and her sister’s mate were inebriated enough to not be on their guard tonight while she spied. 

Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as she drew closer, a rainbow glow of holiday lights from within grazed her face as she peered up. She had guessed correctly, the inner circle was gathered around the fire, wrapping paper strewn all over the plush carpet. They must have just finished opening presents. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at her sisters, so at ease in their new lives, openly smiling as they engaged in conversation. Good, she thought, though a hint of bitterness flooded her tongue, it was good that they were happier without her. But her sisters were not who she needed to see this night. Her gaze turned frantic around the room, trying desperately to alight on the male who haunted most of her waking and sleeping thoughts. Her gaze made no purchase. He was not there.

Was he in Illyria after all? She wasn’t sure she could bear that after all the torment this evening. So she waited, watching her sister’s chosen family enjoy their holiday, as they laughed and shared stories with bright eyes, drinking deeply from their cups. It was not too far off from what she would be doing inside the house anyway, watching the inner circle play their little games while she kept to the outskirts. She was growing restless waiting for him, the urge to barge inside and ask where he was, growing by the minute. But at long last she was rewarded.

Cassian stepped, or stumbled rather, into the room with a grin plastered across his face. His dark hair was mussed, likely having fallen out of his bun hours ago, and two bottles of wine clutched in his hands. The room let out a cheer at his entrance, and Cassian handed off one of the bottles to the Morrigan. Azriel made to reach for the other one, but Cassian waved him off, uncorking the bottle with his teeth before drinking straight from it. She could have sworn she saw a look of concern pass between the Shadowsinger and her sister as they watched him, but Nesta was not interested in them. Her gaze fixed upon the male seated towards the end of the long couch, his hand gripping the wine bottle like a lifeline. 

She had said she would take one look, but she was a liar. She could not move even if she tried, her eyes greedily drinking in the male she looked for in every window and every sky. Her focus snagged on his lips, remembering the soft touch of them against her own on the battlefield. How often did she feel that phantom press in the late hours of the night. He was dressed in a dark red sweater this night, one that clung to the contours of his large frame, as if to torment her. Nesta could not help but imagine trailing her fingers over the material, what it would feel like, what the skin beneath that sweater would feel like. 

Cassian let out a booming laugh at something that was said, loud enough for her to hear through the window, and never did she wish so much to have a device to bottle sound. But the smile that remained did not quite meet his eyes, which were intermittently flickering towards the door. 

The Night Court’s general was drunk, that much was clear, but something was troubling him despite the merriment he tried plastering across his face. The Shadowsinger clapped a hand onto Cassian’s shoulder, in what seemed to be a comforting gesture. 

So badly did she want to be the one comforting him, and yet hadn’t she been the cause of most of his misery when she was around? A sober realization made its way to the forefront of her mind; all she could do was cause him pain . Those beautiful dreams of their life together could only ever be dreams. The reality was that everything she touched had crumbled and turned to ash, but she would be damned if Cassian did as well. She needed to leave, go back to her apartment and try and forget this whole night had ever happened, for both of their sakes. Preferably with the assistance of alcohol. Nesta’s foot stepped back from the window, yet couldn’t stop herself from one last glance at the male inside.

Hazel eyes met hers from across the room. Shit. Cassian’s eyes blinked slowly before widening. There was the sound of glass shattering, as the wine bottle left his hand and dropped onto the floor. Shouts of alarm rose up from the rest of the inner circle, as they jumped up to help clean up the mess. Cassian’s form quickly disappeared out of the room, his hand bracing against the door frame as he pushed around it. She needed to leave, now. 

She scrambled backwards, towards the gate, snow hitting her shoulder from the tops of the bushes as she darted by. She rounded the outside gate and stopped out of breath, hidden by the tall bushes that separated the townhouse from the street. There was the sound of the front door being wrenched open and frantic footsteps down the entry stairs. She didn’t dare to breathe as the footsteps crunched closer, hoping they obscured her own.

“Nesta?” Cassian’s voice was soft, almost hopeful. She had expected him to yell out in his drunken state, alerting the whole inner circle of her presence, but he hadn’t. The quiet sound of her name from his lips was a different kind of bliss altogether, pulling at something deep within her core. Her lips parted, desperately wanting to tell him she was there, that she was ready to try together this time, but no sound came out. 

A second pair of footsteps followed from the front door.

“Cass? What is it?” Feyre’s concerned voice floated through the entryway. Nesta bit her cheek, to keep from making a sound. The only thing worse than Cassian finding her out here would be Feyre and Cassian finding her together. She didn’t think she could survive the look of pity she knew would cross Feyre’s face if she discovered her out here.

“I saw her,” His words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but were determined nonetheless. “I saw her at the window.” Feyre did not ask who it was he had seen, seemingly understanding, but she waited a moment before softly saying,

“I miss her too, Cassian.”

A weight had dropped into Nesta’s stomach, she could not bear to hear this conversation. 

“She was at the window,” Cassian insisted, “She was here, I need to…” he trailed off. Nesta’s ears strained for the end of his thought, but nothing came. Perhaps he did not know how to approach her either, also frozen by the neverending stalemate the two of them found themselves in. Feyre inhaled a slow breath, as though she were about to explain something difficult to a small child.

“Sometimes it can seem like we see things that aren’t actually there. Things that we want to believe are there, but they aren’t,” she said gently. Another moment of silence followed. Feyre tried again.

“Why don’t we go inside? I think Rhysand and Amren were going to pull out the chessboard.”

No reply came from Cassian. Had they gone back inside? Nesta didn’t hear the door slam shut, but her heart was beating so loud she easily could have missed it. 

“I think I’m going to stay out here,” His voice quietly sounded once more.

“Cassian–”

“Just for a bit,” He amended. Nesta could hear the smile he forced onto his face, “Go, enjoy your birthday, Feyre.” She must have listened, as after a moment Nesta heard the soft snick of the front door closing. It was agony being so few steps from him now they were alone, even if he did not know it. But she wouldn’t risk him, not again. So Nesta quietly made her way from her hiding spot back onto the main road, and for once she did not glance back.

The holiday lights in the street now looked garish against the soft white snow frosting the streets. Golden glows that had once emanated from the windows, now dulled to a pale yellow. The wind blew fierce as flurries turned blizzardous, but Nesta did not bother to close her coat against the chill. Already she could feel the press of a hangover against her forehead, the walk having sobered her from the peak of her drunkenness. With it, the starkness of her reality began to return, as though she had never left. 

But as she turned the corner to her apartment, she allowed herself one final solstice present. She let her mind drift to a world in which she had run from her hiding spot that evening and into Cassian’s arms. He would lift her up off the ground, and they would stay there intertwined, swaying with unspoken apologies to one another. She would bury her face in his neck, inhaling his pine and woodfire scent, and it would smell like home. Her home. 

One last time Nesta closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as though she would smell it now.

But only the cold rushed in.

[dr3mvaalmar]

Bewitched | Kinktober Day 8

Pairing: Diavolo x F! Reader x Barbatos

Prompt: breeding (nsfw, mdni)

Summary: During an evening party at Diavolo's castle, the reader notices the peculiarity of Diavolo and Barbatos throughout the night when she dons a stranger's necklace. Suddenly, Diavolo guides her to the back of the mansion on the pretense of a private chat. However, a turn of events makes it more... physical.

Warnings/Tags: threesome, cnc, choking, piv, pia, throat fuck, double penetration, crying

Credits: @cafekitsune (divider)

The peak of the night sky loomed above the Devildom, the bright lights of Diavolo’s mansion a beacon in the darkness. A growing crowd was drawing in, people from all realms dressed up for the grand soiree. Demons, angels, and humans alike arrived at the event intended for diplomatic relationships. It was indeed a party for the ages. I anticipated this event for months now.

Arriving early with an entourage of the demon brothers, we stepped inside to see the familiar faces of Diavolo and Barbatos. The golden hue of Diavolo’s eyes scanned the crowd before finally landing on my form. His enthusiasm seemed to grow as he recognized me between the brothers.

“Ah, our esteemed guests,” Diavolo greeted with arms spread wide. “Welcome, all of you.”

Barbatos, dutifully by Diavolo’s side, bowed courteously. A ghost of a smile lined his lips as he acknowledged everyone. Both of them were in their demon form. It was hard not to be in awe. Their extravagant attires and accessories glinted in the mansion’s light. I felt very underdressed at that moment.

People from all walks of life started to pour in, surrounding the room in a dense crowd of revelry and grandeur. I found myself pushed and pulled in various directions by the current of people. I grabbed a drink to sip, slipping between conversation to conversation. Everyone was excited to get to know me, much to my chagrin.

As I drifted towards the outskirts of the ballroom, I felt a violent prod into my side. I gasped, losing the balance of my drink. The remnants spilled all across my dress, saturating the fibers red with wine. I could only stand in shock as I tried to peel the fabric away from my skin.

“Oh my, you have my deepest apologies, miss,” the culprit said. The mysterious woman immediately went to my aid. She guided me to another room, pulling a handkerchief from her purse. “I’m so clumsy. I take full blame. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

I shook my head. Frustration was evident in my features. If I said anything, I may regret my words. She was too handsy and too enthusiastic while helping me. I appreciated her attempt to fix the situation, but I still couldn’t let it subside.

“Here, as a token of my deepest regrets, take this,” she said, taking a glimmering object from her purse. My eyes widen, seeing an intricate golden necklace before me. In the center was a large red gem. It was stunning. “If you would accept it, it would mean so much to me. It would suit a pretty young lady such as yourself more than I.”

“I’m not sure if I can accept this,” I told her, my confidence waning. “It’s too precious.”

“I insist. Wearing it will make you absolutely ravishing,” the woman said again, so I reluctantly took the jewelry. She helped me put it on, and I admired the glimmer as it fell perfectly off my chest. “I must go, but I bid you good fortune. Have a wonderful evening, (Y/n).”

With that, she disappeared, and dread filled its place in her absence. Who was that woman? How did she know my name?

I walked back into the ballroom, finger and thumb fiddling with the new jewelry. A deep sense of uneasiness washed over me, but the splendor of the party was slowly turning my mood around. I decided to talk to the demon brothers to pass the time.

Shortly after, live music filled the room. Everyone shifted and swayed, dancing to their hearts’ content. It was a soft melody, with people joining in pairs to savor the rhythm together. Excited, my eyes started searching for a partner.

“(Y/n), would you like to join me in this dance?” a voice said behind me. I turned around, blinking a few times as I beheld Diavolo before me. He was gorgeous, his presence radiating a powerful aura. The rays of the chandeliers framed him perfectly, accentuating the gilded molding and tapestries in the background. He looked like a beloved painting.

“Well, of course, Dia- I mean, Lord Diavolo,” I replied, holding out my hand. He chuckled, taking it enthusiastically. His grip was gentle but pulled me into a daze. We started dancing amidst the crowd as Diavolo waltzed with me. We found each other in the spotlight, directly in the center. Each movement was swift and synchronized, feet gliding over the marble floor with ease.

“Being this close to you, feeling the warmth of your hand in mine… I will savor this to the depths of my heart. Thank you,” Diavolo said, looking away for a brief moment. Taken aback, I faltered, causing me to step on his toes. I tensed, falling into Diavolo’s broad chest. He held me firm between his hands, stabilizing my body.

“Careful,” Diavolo muttered, taking me back into a dancing stance. We were closer this time, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his chest. As I tentatively peered into his eyes, I found an intensity that caused a shiver to run throughout my body. Something was odd about the way he looked at me. Did I do something wrong?

It was silent between us for the remainder of the dance. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly changed, but Diavolo didn’t say much other than simple pleasantries. I thanked him for the dance before departing. I felt his gaze linger on me as I walked towards the bar. 

I was intensely thirsty, my throat parched from my interaction with Diavolo. I needed something to satiate it. As I neared, I found Barbatos blocking my path. There was an eager glimmer in his eye as if I was just the person he was expecting.

“Ah, it’s rare to see someone rush to the bar with such urgency. Did you enjoy your dance with the young master?” 

“Hello, Barbatos. It’s good to see you,” I greeted with a nervous laugh. “It was a bit… much. I’m a little parched, honestly.”

“Lord Diavolo does have that effect on people, especially those he has a particular interest in,” Barbatos said, ushering me by his side. His every move was graceful, even the gentle swish of his tail. 

“It was just a dance. Why would Lord Diavolo take an interest in me?”

“Well, the way the young master’s eyes were fixated on you, it was quite evident,” Barbatos assured. “But I suppose I tend to notice the finer details, such as that necklace around your neck. It’s lovely. A gift, perhaps?”

“This? Oh, some lady gave it to me. A thoughtful gesture.”

“Mysterious, but do be cautious. Some gifts may come with strings attached,” Barbatos warned, his gaze lingering along my collarbone. I blinked as I swore he was looking lower… but he wouldn’t do that, would he?

“What do you mean?”

“Figuratively speaking, of course,” Barbatos chuckled, his body poised before me. “Now let me get that drink for you. It’s the least I can do for a guest as captivating as yourself.”

My face grew hot as I stammered on my words of appreciation. Barbatos poured my preferred beverage, adding a flourish as he handed the drink to me. His gloved hands glided over mine as I took it. I took a brief sip, nodding, before joining the crowd again.

Shortly after, dinner took place. There was a grand table lined with fancy plates and utensils. Flowers and candles lined the center, shining on the faces of all the guests. I could smell food wafting from the kitchen as Diavolo’s servants prepped the food. 

Beel was the first to devour the appetizers as they came out, leaving little—if any—for everyone else. I took a bite of some crimson wyrm wings, quite similar in taste and texture to chicken. It was heavenly, as was everything the prince of the Devildom and his faithful butler had to offer.

Diavolo made a toast to the prosperous future of the three realms. Everyone clapped and cheered before diving into the delectable food before them. It was splendid. I haven’t seen such eagerness and camaraderie between species of angels, demons, and humans. It was a pleasant sight. 

The demon brothers sat to my left, as well as a strange man I didn’t recognize to my right. I couldn’t help but notice the furtive glances from him every time I saw him in my peripheral vision. I felt the same uneasiness from when I met that woman. They seemed eerily similar.

“Miss (L/n),” his gruff voice piped up beside me. I turned my head, showing him my curiosity. “It’s truly a privilege to witness such a beauty amidst the monotonous sea of faces. Tell me, would you be interested in visiting my mansion? I have many wonders I could show you. I assure you, the luxuries and pleasures I have to offer will make your stay unforgettable.”

I tried desperately not to contort my face in disgust, especially when he reached for my hand to kiss my knuckle briskly. I felt so out of place, especially when some of the guests took interest. To hell, I was just trying to enjoy my dinner.

My ears perked up as I heard the tell-tale sound of chair legs grinding against the floor. I peeked up, seeing Diavolo standing from his seat. For an instant, his face was contorted into a scowl, but he quickly composed himself. The party guests turned as well, whispering amongst themselves. Time seemed to pass agonizingly slow as Diavolo walked over towards me. His steps seemed heavy, and a foreboding feeling overwhelmed me. He grasped my wrist as he reached my side, whispering close to my ear.

“We need to talk… privately.”

Diavolo tugged me from my chair as I lamented the loss of my meal. However, Beel was quick to enjoy it for me. Diavolo’s steps were long and fast as I struggled to keep up. I tripped on my feet, but he didn’t so much as glance my way. Diavolo was typically optimistic and chivalrous. Yet, this person didn’t seem like Diavolo at all.

We both made it to the stairs along the back, descending until we found a door. Diavolo opened it, guiding me with a hand on my back. There was no way I could say no as I recognized one of the various dungeons before me. What did I do??

The inside of the room was dimly lit, the wall sconces flickering along the walls. A breeze of cool air hit my face, causing my body to shiver inadvertently. Each step along the hard floor echoed across the chamber, the air thick with tension.

Diavolo walked a few paces ahead before turning towards me. I immediately halted, but a wave of relief washed over me as he showed me an awkward smile. Yet, it didn’t subside as I looked into the depths of his eyes. Something strange is happening.

“Why, (Y/n),” Diavolo mutters, his words ending with a bitter edge. “Do you typically let others address you with such familiarity?”

My eyes widened, unsure of how to respond. Yet, I struggled to defend the accusations. I folded my arms for warmth and also a pathetic attempt at intimidating him.

“Lord Diavolo, that was never—”

“You should remember your place here,” Diavolo said, cutting me off effectively. The door behind me was still ajar. If I took a moment now to flee, maybe I could escape from whatever was in store for me.

“Now, now, young master,” Barbatos chimed from behind me. I whipped around, finding him blocking my escape route. His eyes didn’t dare leave me. “Perhaps our dear guest simply needs a reminder.”

It took me a moment to decipher their intentions, but it hit me like a pile of bricks when I did. They weren’t serious, were they? But the look in their eyes told me otherwise. What was getting into them? I’ve never seen this side of them, nor could I anticipate this to happen. I was trapped, two powerful demons leaving me no mercy. 

“You’re right, and she knows precisely what she’s doing,” Diavolo muttered, inching closer to me. I could hear the rustle of clothes as Barbatos neared as well. It was too dark to see the exact details of their expression, but I could feel the danger. 

“Do you think so little of me, Diavolo?” I asked, resisting their advances. I’m vulnerable as a human, but I wouldn’t let up so quickly.

“It’s not about thinking little about you,” Barbatos murmured, his face nearing my neck. I could feel his hot breath against my skin. “It’s about wanting too much.”

I could feel a faint buzzing near my chest. Barbatos’s fingers lingered around my neck as he stood behind me. His touch against my sensitive skin made me freeze in place. Diavolo seemed impatient to join, reaching out to grab my chin. I felt him tilt my head, forcing me to peer into the yellow stars of his eyes.

“Tonight, you’ll know exactly where you belong,” Diavolo said darkly. It was a promise, not simply words. I felt Barbatos push me forward, guiding me toward another room. This room was less stifling, housing various antique furniture. He guided me to a divan, setting me there while his hands glided up my wrists towards my biceps and gently down to my waist. Diavolo is quick to join. I turn towards him, uncertain about his actions. I let out a muffled yelp as I felt his lips clash with mine. It’s hungry, a force to be reckoned with. The movement of his soft lips makes my mind buzz with excitement.

“You had everyone’s eyes on you the entire evening,” Diavolo said, drifting away from his lips. However, his focus did not waver as he resisted another kiss. “Did you enjoy the attention?”

“I didn’t mean to…,” I whispered, my voice becoming increasingly unruly. It felt like something was caught in my throat. The presence of them both pressing in on me was too much to bear. 

“Innocent intentions or not, you’ve stirred something within us,” Barbatos warned, his hands rubbing circles on my thighs. I pressed my legs together, not letting my body give in to the teasing. “We have no intentions of letting that go to waste.”

“And what if I don’t want to be a part this?” I asked daringly. I immediately regretted my words as they paused their motions, glancing knowingly at each other.

Barbatos opened his mouth, his slick tongue sliding against my ear. I resisted making a sound as he whispered, “Your body says otherwise.”

“Lay down, (Y/n),” Diavolo orders, guiding me onto the couch. It’s slow, but somehow, I trust them to watch over me. However, they look like predators observing their prey.

“Relax,” Barbatos comforts, rubbing a hand along my side as I finally situate myself. I whimper as I feel his hands underneath my body. I arch my back as he unzips my dress, the fabric loosening around me. Diavolo runs his large hands over the exposed portion of my neck, carefully peeling the clothes from my body. They work in tandem, Barbatos guiding the fabric over my legs. I tried to cover my exposed body; the only material remaining was my panties.

“Wait,” I tried to say but halted as Diavolo leaned down, embracing me in a passionate kiss. His hands cupped my cheeks, my head in his lap. Seeing him in reverse was strange, but he expertly moved with my lips, tongue prodding at my flesh with heavy desire. During my distraction, I hardly noticed Barbatos tugging off the remainder of my outfit. All that was left was my necklace and shoes. 

“Every little sound you make, every tremor of your lips, beckons me closer. Do you realize the power you wield over me?” Diavolo muttered, lips still eagerly moving with my own. I gasped as I felt the sensation of something wet against my most delicate parts. Pulling away from Diavolo, I bent my head to see Barbatos lapping at my cunt, eyes shamelessly locked with mine. His arm looped around my thigh, his palm resting on my stomach. He looked like a viper ready to strike.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, but Diavolo held my wrists down before I could push Barbatos away. I twisted my hips and moved my legs, but Barbatos held me firm under his hand. I didn’t expect such strength.

I whined under his tongue, his mouth sucking on the tender bud of my clit. I panted, eyes half-lidded as Diavolo observed every move. I tried to shout as a rush of pleasure washed over me, but Diavolo simply shoved his thick fingers into my mouth.

“Quiet, my dear,” Diavolo murmured as I choke on his digits. Biting down doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. “Wouldn’t want the entire castle to know our little secret, would we?”

I tried to say something but couldn’t. I could feel Barbatos’ free hand teasing my entrance with his middle finger. I didn’t even notice Diavolo moving my head over so he could stroke his cock. It was all too much. I had no idea what was happening or where. 

Diavolo’s large dick shadowed my vision as he shifted onto his knees. His hands lay on either side of me, finding a comfortable spot, before he used a free hand to guide his dick to my mouth. To my horror, I realized he intended to fuck my throat. At first, I turned my head to the side, squeezing my eyes shut as his tip prodded at my lips. Impatient, he straightened out my head with his hand. After I refused to open my mouth, he clamped his thumb and finger over my nose, cutting off my oxygen. 

I gasped for air, a momentary respite, before feeling his thickness entering my tight throat. I tried to make a noise to tell him to stop, but it was no use. He was already all the way in. My mind screamed at me to breathe, but my airway was obstructed. With a deliberate motion of his hips, tears threatened to spill from my eyes. 

My throat was being assaulted while Barbatos hooked his fingers into me, tongue gliding over my clit. He found the rough spot on the roof of my vagina, curling his fingers at just the right pace. I tried to kick, but Diavolo’s hands were firm on my wrists as he thrust inside my bruising throat. I could feel my gag reflex kick in as he hit the back of my throat over and over again. 

“You feel so good, taking me in so eagerly,” Diavolo groaned, the base of his dick colliding with me. I tightened my throat in protest, earning a moan from the demon. He slid out, finally allowing me to take a deep gulp of air.

“Give me a moment. Slow down… I can’t…,” I panted, Diavolo’s tip hovering over me again. I moaned as Barbatos increased his pace, a tension rising within me. My fingers stretched out for a moment as my face froze. Something released inside of me.

“Coming already? What a sweet little human,” Diavolo purred, rubbing my breasts between my palms. I could only let a guttural shriek as I reached my peak. Fluid dispelled from within me, soaking into the fabric of the couch. Barbatos didn’t stop his torment, dragging out more and more from within me. 

“I could get lost in those pleading eyes of yours,” Diavolo said, shoving his dick in me again. I couldn’t even get a moment to gather myself before plunging back into the fray.

“Do you think you can handle both of us?” Barbatos asked as I heard the familiar sound of an unbuckling belt. I couldn’t even look as he rubbed his cock against my wet slit. I felt embarrassment well up in me from the mess I had formed. Yet, both of them didn’t seem to care. I tried to kick from underneath him, but he only chuckled.

“Feeling overwhelmed? Just let go and surrender to us,” Barbatos affirmed, pushing his length into me. Tears spilled, coating my face along with a string of saliva. I felt utterly filled as they moved in unison. Diavolo scraped my throat, and Barbatos pumped into me until he hit my cervix. Both violated the very depths within me.

My body was in a perpetual state of pain and pleasure. I didn’t know whether to give in or fight them off. Regardless, it didn’t matter. They were too busy having their way. There was no reason for them to stop. I was simply a body to relieve their desires.

Diavolo groaned, his dick twitching inside of me. His first orgasm hit him hard as he fit his entire dick inside me. I could only take it all as cum shot down my throat, my mind threatening to collapse. If Diavolo didn’t take his cock out at that moment, I would’ve certainly passed out. I choked, letting the viscous liquid run down my throat. I desperately craved some water to appease my aching insides. 

“Why don’t we change this up, shall we?” Barbatos said, placing his hands underneath my hips. He easily pulled me into his lap, his body still connected to mine. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around him. I’m sure my face looked like a mess after being abused by Diavolo. 

Barbatos guided me onto his dick as I bobbed up and down. The tip hit all the right places inside of me as I felt something tense up. I felt Diavolo spit, the sound reverberating across the room. Lewd squelches commenced as he stroked his cock. 

As Barbatos thrust inside with me on his lap, Diavolo aligned with the entrance of my ass. I could only grip onto Barbatos harder as he coaxed the hole open with his finger, slipping his dick in after its stead. It was much larger than I expected. How did he recover so fast?

Now, the both of them fucked me senseless, my moans a cacophony across the castle’s chambers. They both grunted and groaned, Barbatos gripping my thighs and Diavolo holding my waist and throat. I couldn’t do anything but ride out orgasm after orgasm. I had no idea how long it had been.

They filled everything inside of me. Cum coated my skin, the couch, my hair, to the very depths of my pussy, ass, and throat. Nothing was left untouched as they used me like a doll. I’ve never felt this sense of vigor and lust. They had no intentions of stopping. Yet, when they did, I couldn’t help but lay there entangled in their limbs. I was numb, the night still not registering in my brain. 

They cuddled me with their naked bodies, arms wrapped lazily around me. I sighed, sitting up while they lazily acknowledged my movements.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Diavolo muttered, grasping my waist in an attempt to stop me. I only looked down, a faint smile gracing my lips.

“What was with you two tonight?” I asked, finally desiring an answer to their atypical demeanor. Barbatos only laughed. 

“That necklace,” Barbatos continued, hands grazing the jewelry around my neck. I peeked down, noticing the gem turning a dull gray color. “It's a quite powerful curse. The curse itself is a type of seduction magic, forcing out the carnal desires of those you attract.”

“So, everything that happened…” I said, feeling shame well up inside of me. I wrapped my arms around my exposed breasts.

I tensed as I felt someone trace patterns along my back. It was Diavolo, a gentle smile comforting me in my turmoil. Each sensation caused goosebumps to form along my arms. 

“The artifact was simply a catalyst,” Diavolo explained, laughing at my solemn expression. “They simply intensified feelings that were already there. The necklace just… nudged it to the surface.”

I smiled back, feeling more at ease. Even though they pushed me to my limits, having them show their affection like this was pleasant. They ensured my every doubt was satiated and my body was recovering. 

Barbatos brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear before saying, “The necklace may have been the trigger, but our actions were very much real. Do not forget our adoration for you is genuine.”

I gasped, straightening up. This shocked them both, their bodies going rigid.

“What about the party? Everyone? They must be worried.”

“They’ll manage a few hours without us,” Diavolo chuckled, pulling me close. “Though, I might have to formally apologize for my actions earlier.”

“We will worry about the problems when we arrive to it,” Barbatos comforted, curling into me. His tail drifted to my leg, flicking at my skin like a snake’s tongue.

I felt my body and soul connected to them. With every touch and murmur, I found my head lolling to the side. Exhaustion was starting to set in. 

Diavolo cradled my head, leaning down into a kiss. He pulled back, letting Barbatos have a taste as well. They both looked very pleased. My face radiated heat, but my grin showed how much I adored this moment.

“I promise, no more mysterious artifacts,” I giggled, taking their hands into mine. They squeezed my hands back. Diavolo’s chest rumbled with amusement.

“Sometimes the most unexpected paths lead to the most memorable destinations,” Diavolo said, lying flat by my side. 

“It’s certainly a night I will never forget,” I responded, eyes drifting closed. Nothing mattered right now besides this moment. Time stretched on as I savored the warmth of their bodies against mine. Three hearts beat as one, promising silent vows of more cherished moments to come.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

A king's true love.

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x chubby reader

Summary: You were a maid, plain and simple, as your mother before you and your grandmother before her, you never dreamed about possibly catching the King's eye but it was already decided for you. The king wanted you as a concubine and his next queen.

Warning: Yandere/possessive Elvis, insecure reader, Bullying, Mean & Cruel Linda, Fat shaming, Crying, Smut (Of course ;).) Branding, Spanking, Biting, Heavy Breeding kink! Dirty talk, Public sex, Voyeurism, Pussy slapping, Praise, Choking, Creampies (Got to have that), Lost of virginity, Attempted murder, Murder, Love confessions.

Today started like every day for the past 15 years, you got up with the rest of the royal female staff, readied yourself for a hard day of working, making sure your uniforms were to perfection, and set to work. Normally you clean around the castle, fortunately enough for the royal physician you're passing by just when he needed someone to get herbs from the Garden, and here you were picking up herbs. Different shades of the color pink, violet, and blue herbs lay in your wooden basket, the sun shined brightly in the sky highlighting, the healthy grass and all the sort of flowers in a way even the gods would be envious of its heavenly glow.

You continued to pick up the plants when you heard a hiccup alike laughter and voices overlapping, the laugh was alluring like that of a siren, you searched for the source, and it came from the shape of your king, you had heard of the God-like Beauty of the king from giggling maidens. His eyes mesmerising with such happiness, his raven hair somewhat a lighter black in the Sunshine, and his smile, radiant like the sun and heavens above. Your heart stopped beating once his blue orbs set on yours, his smile wiped clean, and an unreadable look across his face.

You took that as a clue to departure. You sighed in relief, your heart returned to its rhythmic beating as you kneeled and grabbed a wet rag from the bucket of water. Your thoughts continued to circle around the king, you had heard the tales of his bewitching charm and his enchanting beauty but just as he was beautiful he was poisoning, his anger told to be destructive, explosive, and deadly. Was he gonna have you executed? For simply looking at him? You were..bigger than most of the women in the Palace, was he so disgusted by you, to just erase your existence? "I can hear your thinking from here." a light melodic voice spoke out, looking up you noticed Genevieve looking at you, a tiny smile on her rose pink pump lips, To say Genevieve was beautiful was an understatement, her body made men look twice, her long blonde hair, shiny and silk-like yellow silk, her green eyes like emeralds, it was hard to believe she was a maid, and not a far away princess. "O-Oh, yeah I was thinking about he-herbs that I got for the royal physician, that's why I was late. I have a hard time saying no." you smile back, Genevieve opened up her mouth to reply but decides against it as the sound of wicked laughter of the Queen's ladies in waiting sounded though out the halls and the click of heels on the expensive marble, you felt dread as the Queens heels stopped in front of you.

"Well, what do we have here? a piggy and a swan maid?" she snarled making her ladies laugh behind her "You missed a spot Miss Piggy." she pointed to an already clean sport and stepped on your hand, it took everything in you not to groan out in pain, she then used your hand as a stepping continue on her way. You hold your hand to your chest and watched her walk away, you breathed out and clean, ignoring Genevieve staring, later that day you had the physician bandage your bloody hand. The next day you awoke with some pain, but tolerable.

You were lacing your hair up into a bun when the head maid asked you to follow her, her crop whip in her old left hand, her natural scowl on her wrinkled, tired face. With each step, an intense sense of Doom made itself home in your very gut, neither of you spoke a word until you stopped at a door, tall, grand with white and golden engravings, and two unmoving, stoic guards stand on each side, They began to door the double door as the head maid finally spoke up "The king will see you now." her usual dead voice held an edge as she lightly flicked her whip, testing, daring you to go against the king will and his possible punishment, a secret desire to run away weaved itself in your mind but with your better judgment you did as you were told. The only sound left in the room after the guards shut the door was the scratching of the quill pen against the parchment paper, the king had yet to look at you, and the otherwise silence didn't help the race of thoughts, what had you done to offend your kingdom's beloved ruler? And what was to be your punishment? Was it to be harsh or worse? At least the king looked up, his blue orbs a dark electric, his pink plump lips stretched in a thin line, he pushed his hair back, some that landed in his face from looking down before he clasped his hands together in front of him and his elbows on the desk of his large study, his angelic eyes look you up and down with an unreadable emotion, if you didn't felt nervous before you surely did now. "You'll now be my personal maid, ya will follow me around, cleanin' after me, doin' errands for me and other things. You start today," he said standing up and walking to the door "Breakfast is probably done by now." he spoke, walking out the door once the guards opened the door, you following close behind.

Like he said wherever he went, so did you. Envious stares and whispered insults, from other maids, the ladies in waiting, and even the Queen herself, she, of course, had no promote insulting you to your face, behind the king, Elvis's— he has you call him— back. You couldn't bring yourself to care most of the time, you thought it would be tough since your first and second meeting with Elvis wasn't the best, he always made you feel comfortable around him, and he talked to you like you were his equal instead of below him and he made you laugh, he made you...happy. You could bear the consequences of being close to Elvis, you've come to love the man, even though it was forbidden and wrong, and you just didn't care. you awoke to cold glares like it has been for two weeks now and made your way to the King and the Queen's Chamber, one of your duties where to wake up the royal couple but luckily for you, you only had to wake up Elvis since the Queen and her ladies decided to take a bonding trip.

The room was dark with only a shred of light coming from the curtains of the large glorious window, a annoyed groan left Elvis, turning to his other side as you thrusted the curtains open, letting the sunlight brighten the magnificent room. "Elvis, your Majesty. It's time to wake up," you spoke softly walking to him and yanking off the blanket of his body, his chest was bare and his pants laid low on his hips, "Your majesty, get up." you gently shake up wake, his hand shot up, grasped your wrist and pulled you onto the king size bed, his legs straddled your hips and his hands pined your wrists down above your head"Don't wanna." he said simply, his lips laid claim to your neck, sucking and nibbling. "M-My king—" "Elvis." "Elvis what are you doing?" you stuttered "Taking what's mine," he growled bagen to kisses down your collarbone, you swallowed down a moan, this is wrong, you knew this was wrong, he was married, and of royal blood, you weren't even a noble. His hands knead your breasts, pulling, biting and sucking at your nipples lightly, with one hand he held your wrist, and the other travels along your bigger body, mapping out your dips and carves like a sculpture tracing their masterpiece with adoration, your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat as his hand stopped at your stomach, squeezing it, he gave your nipple a harsh suck then pulled away, a string of saliva followed before it snapped and his cyan orbs looked dazed. "So perfect." he slurred drunk on desire, he squeezed your stomach again "So perfect to carry and to protect, to provide for my heirs." His eyes darken at the thought of his little maid waddling around carrying his heirs, his children. Elvis couldn't take it anymore he need you like he need the very air to breathe, his fingers raced down to your cunt, checking if you were wet, and lord you were soaking, all ready to take your king's erection. "You're mine now. Do you understand, little maid?" he said, the hand that held your wrists now holding your cheeks, he looked at you expectingly "Y-yes!" you gasped as the head of his cock breached your core "Yes what?" he growled his hand wrapped around your neck, sheathing himself within you completely with one thrust "Yes my king!" you moaned, eyes falling closed from the feeling of your king's cock rubbing along your virgin walls with slow and shallow thrusts, letting you get accustomed his size.

"Look at me when I'm fucking you." Elvis hissed his thrusting speed up, delivering a quick slap to your clit making your eyes snap open for the painful yet pleasurable sensation "M-More." you begged, bucking your hips "Please fuck me harder, i-i can take it." "Goddamn vixen." he groaned, the large bed banged against the walls as he mercilessly pounded you, Deep, chest-rumbling growls left the man as his hand tighten around your neck, his eyes watching as your body jiggled from his rough fucking "You're fuckin' mine. anyone tries to take you, I'll kill them!" he groaned, throwing your legs on his shoulder, reaching a deeper angle, a deep that made your eyes roll back, a deep that his tip hit your cervix, driving you crazy with feverish ecstasy "Aw is my little maid getting cockdrunk?" he asked with that sexy signature smirk, you nodded dumbly barely registering his words. Elvis chuckled before letting out a moan, your pussy clenching as his thrusting became erotic "I gon' breed ya! Got a nice big load to fill your womb and you gonna give me a baby, isn't that right?" he panted, your coil snapped at his words and the overwhelming feels "Fuck!" you cried out "Please cum my king!" you begged "GODDAMN!!" he shouted as he fulfilled his promise.

You both pant as you came down from your highs, eyes gazing into each other with affection, with a groan, Elvis slowly pulled out and cuddled your plushy body closer to him, and in no time you fall asleep. You later woke up from a loud knock on the door, jolting up at the voice of the head maid, "Wake up!" you whisper shouted, shaking Elvis "What?! What's wrong?" he said sitting up "My king?" the elder maid called out "Oh, " he sighed before replying to her and putting on his Royal clothes "Today you won't follow me around, I have some things to do alone. If I need you I'll spend a guard" he kisses you softly and with that left you sitting in his bed as he performed his duties. You in the first in a while, clean around the Castle, judgmental and hateful stares followed your every movement. An hour in a guard came and led you to one of the many guestrooms, the doors closed behind you as you stepped in the room, and the head maid stood farther inside, head bowed "Come and sit child." her voice was surprisingly soft and gesturing towards a beautiful vanity, you hesitated for a second but needless sat down in front of the mirror, expensive perfume, makeup and a brush laid across the vanity, the elder maid picked up the brush, and started to fix your hair "From now on you can call Mildred dear" she said "The king has decided to make you his concubine and has ordered me to get you ready for your ceremony." she spoke up again and walked over to the large bed, picking up a hop golden shaped headpiece, cherry blossoms, pink leaves, and hanging pink pearls sat on it "His what?" you asked shocked looking at her through the mirror as she styled your hair with the elegant headpiece "His concubine, get up now" she backed you to follow to the bed were a beautiful glittery pink dress that of your size.

You took a deep breath in, hands gripping the skirt of your tailored dress, waiting for your clue. A different set of emotions raced inside you, shock, confusion, and..love.happiness "My lady!" Mildred hissed, catching your attention just as the guards begin to open the double doors of the throne room. You gulped as you walked to Elvis's throne, the palace staff's eyes pin to your back, and whispers filled the room, tugging at your ear but none reached you as your eyes solely focus on Elvis. He sat on his gold, black, and white throne, legs spread, his elbow on the armrest, trancing his lip while his other arm just rested on the armrest, and his eyes looking back at you with powerful intensely "My king." you kneeled before him and bowed your head, a pleased hum let him, as he stood up and looked to a blacksmith that stands beside a large golden bowl that held fire and a metal rod, the blacksmith looked back and nodded like he read the kings mind, sat the metal rod in the fire and then pulled out in a minute, you finally got to see was on the end; Elvis's name in fine cursive, the metal a bright glowing red as the blacksmith passed it to Elvis "Are you ready?" he asked you softly "Yes, I am." you smile at him and took in a sharp breath, Elvis noded, and pushes the burning rod on the skin of your collarbone, sharp shooting pain was all that you could feel, the pain had you gasped for air and clenched your fists, after want seemed like forever for you was only seconds. Elvis handed the rod back to the smith, helped you up, and smiled softly at you before addressing the crowd, declaring your new status and your now worth.

That night, Elvis spread a healing herb onto the brand, cooling the pain as you both sat on your bed in your new room, a candle lighting up the room, giving it a warm glow and a kiss goodnight later, you had fallen asleep in your lover's arms once again. It was a month when the queen came back, a month since you had become his concubine a month since the bullying got worst. Even though you were of higher status now that didn't stop the maids from leaving notes, and destroying the gifts Elvis would give you, despite Mildred, with who you had become close, who had become a second mother to you, pressuring you to tell the king, but you refused to bother him. It only worsened when the queen and her ladies come back, the Queen heard that Elvis had an official concubine she wasn't happy and to find out it was you, someone, of zero noble status well you could see the rage-filled plans behind that perfected fake smile. As a concubine, you had other duties besides bringing pleasure to the king like making appearances with the queen which was more of a game of how to torture you than getting along and getting to know each other.

Today Mildred helped you get ready for breakfast, she dressed you into a light blue dress that hadn't been destroyed yet and matching jewelry. She along with a guard that was assigned for your safety walked you to the large dining room, Elvis and the queen had already sat down, and plates of different kinds of food were placed on the 50-long tables in front of the three of you "Good morning your highness's" you bowed before sitting down on the left side of Elvis, the said king sat at the end of the table and the queen, Linda sat on his right "Please call me Linda my dear." Linda smiled with fake kindness as she always did in front of Elvis "Of course." you replied, "Good morning darlin'." Elvis looked at you lovingly a hint of lust as he took in your attire, one thing about the dress you adored it showcased your cleavage and he had no shame looking right there, the animalistic glint in his eyes made a growing patch of slick-filled your panties, even after all the time he had taken you he easily can make you burn with desire, Elvis without taking his eyes off you he snapped his fingers and pointed to the plates around him, quickly a maid grab them and put them on a cart "Come here pretty girl." he becked you over and you happily followed his order, once you stood before him, he put his hands on your hips as he laid kisses on the top of your breasts "Can't wait to have them filled with milk." he purred. You let out a yelp as he turned you and bend you over the table, flapping your dresses skirt on your back, letting him see your underwater "Alright wet for me pretty girl?" he teased and licked a stripe up your clothed pussy, tasting your slick through your soaked underwear before sliding them off you "Dont worry pretty girl, I'll get you nice and pregnant." he spoke softly as he pulled down his pants and underwear, his cock hard, and twitching to be inside you "Please..please my king, breed me." you begged as you look behind you, eyes looking into his with want, Elvis cursed as he slammed into you forcing out a cry from the hard thrust, you suddenly become aware of the several eyes that watched your show but you couldn't bring yourself to care as the table wobbled and shook, the plates and glasses clanged from Elvis hard thrusting, your cries and moans filled the room, your eyes looked up, catching Linda glaring at you with a chilling coldness "Fuck!" you mewled, a sharp slap to your swollen lips and clit brought you back to the mindblowing pleasure, the only thing you could think about, was his cock, and feeling his dick hitting all the right places with experience ease.

You weren't gonna last long and from the king's frantic pounding he wasn't either, with a loud moan Elvis painted your womb creamy white, and you follow soon after, softly moaning as he pulled out, his semen dripping out of you. After pulling your underwear back up, and straightening out your attire and hair, you began to eat like nothing had happened and ignored the stares. You still had to visit with the Queen when you all finished with breakfast while Elvis attended to his kingly duties. When both you and Linda had finished, and said your farewells to the king, the time of your visit with her, she was quiet, and if she said anything it was in four words or less, a coldness surround her, and you were afraid not once had she made fun of you, not once called you names, you feared what was going on in her head.

Turns out, you had every right to.

The bed was warm and inviting to your exhausted body, your love lay beside you on the side he claimed on your personal bed. Your brows frowned as a new weight sat on your body "Wake up little piggy." a women's voice hissed, your eyes shoot open as you felt a sharp point on your chest and your scream muffled "There is she, the home wrecker." Linda growled, pressing the shining dagger more onto your chest, causing a small trail of blood to leak "I don't get why he got so obsessed over a fat maid when he was me! I leave for a vacation and he makes you a concubine! You! But I have been too tolerant this ends now!" she shrieked, rising the dagger, your eyes shut close, you let out muffed wails, and waiting for your cruel end but it never came, a sudden grunt and a sound of bodies hitting the floor, metal clang against the marble, a struggle and finally a scream before it got silent, you look to the noise and the image of Elvis stabbing Linda over and over again with enraged flames in his eyes, blood splattered everywhere, blood covering Elvis's hands and coating the floor. Elvis leaned back panting after he finished his murderous rampage, a breathless laugh left him before he stood and stepped over her lifeless corpse "Ya alright?" he asked worriedly, his bloody hands holding your cheeks "I'm fine." you said shakily, his thumb caressed the apple of your cheeks, spreading the blood more, you weren't scared well not of your king but what could've been your every last breath, you felt safe with him.

"No one will ever hurt you again. Ever."

Taglist: @plasticfantasticl0ver, @crash-and-cure, @flwersgarden, @kendralavon7, @devils-blackrose, @littleemo477, @18lkpeters, @chasingwildflower,@reddie-freddie, @olliewhinchester, @emmymaehereeeeee,@poindexstar123, @kenzi-woycehoski,@cruel-winter-nights, @c-rosenn, @cilla-mads, @prompted-wordsmith, @kxnnxy @godesslaura @lillypink @fallinlovewithurlove, @redangel123 @respectmyprivacys-blog,@j-lize, @wolywolymoley, @dkayfixates, @austinbutlersblog, @atheartbreakhotels, @idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy, @pennyroyalcreep, @mnssasstuff, @galaxygirl453.

[shikinnie]

I wish i'd seen you sooner

«it must have hurt so bad seeing the girl you like loving someone else, huh?»

there's a new class plan, and you're not next to Isagi anymore! you're now next to another boy who used to be your crush.

you smile to your boyfriend as you hug him before you go to your new assigned seat. you were gonna miss being with him at every class, laughing, playing, talking and helping each other.. they were precious moments and yet so simple. but it's okay, fortunately, isagi's new seat was just behind yours and it means that you'll still be able to continue talking with him, even if it will be more difficult not to be catched by the teacher.

when you see who's beside you, you recognize someone who used to be your crush of almost two years ago. you've been talking a little but not that much, comparing to back then when you used to be close. the main reason you fell in love with him was for his sense of humour. he would always make you laugh. however, when you confessed to him, he admitted that he didn't see you this way.

even if it did hurt you back then, it doesn't matter now that you have yoichi <3

however, isagi also knew who he was to you. he also knew that you had a crush on him whereas isagi had one on you. the least we could say, is that it was so painful for him to watch you love someone else, to laugh so hard with someone else, and not him, when he was right beside you. at the time you were only friends, so when your ex crush rejected you, isagi, being your closest friend, had to comfort you. Even though it pained him, he was still your friend and he would always be there for you, even not as your lover, which was the case.

but when your heart finally woke up to look properly at the person who was always by your side, it began to see isagi on a different light. and so, you just fell in love with him, making him the happiest boy in the world.

even knowing that you now have only eyes for him, the footballer player still felt unsecure. he thinks you might end up liking him again. on top of that, he sees your ex crush as someone way more good looking and funnier than him. it would only be natural for you to prefer him to isagi.

so when the class starts and the teacher starts as well her job, she's quick to give you some work to do within the hour after she explained the lesson of the day. it will be no longer after that your new classmate asks for your help. all of this under the icy stare of your boyfriend. he quickly notices how he would put his arm behind your chair, as if he was marking his territory, when in reality it is not his at all. except, he doesn't know that.

isagi grits his teeth as he sees you being completely blind to it, and helping him innocently. even if he finds you cute, the anger he feels at the moment is stronger. and what he sees in front of him makes him clench his fists. the boy that now isagi hates, was showing you something to help him up with on the page on the opposite side of you, only for you to get closer to him in order to see better.

and to isagi who has no choice but to assist to it, it does nothing good but increase his anger which he restrains.

he's quick to write something on a piece of paper that said "stop talking to him", before it lands on your table. you throw a quick glance behind you and lock eyes with isagi's, smiling lovingly at him before you read what he has written.

however, his heart might just break when you ignore him to report your attention on the stupid boy next to you. "i've been wanting to tell you something." this picked your curiosity as you asked what it was. "i think that i might just like you too" he smiled as if you were still into him, when you are just not anymore since isagi bewitched you.

and when this one hears this, "i know it might be sudden but back then I just wasn't aware of what a beauty you were, so.. that's it. today i return your feelings.. baby", he might just snap.

but then he remembers that you ignored him to listen to this bastard, as the dark blue haired boy is currently calling him in his mind, and he fears that you might just accept his feelings.

"i don't wanna be rude but, wake up" you start, "i don't like you anymore, this was almost two years ago now. for you to think that it's still the case is cocky." while his smile faded, isagi never felt this relieved. and it gets even better as you continue, "since then i moved on, and now i have a wonderful boyfriend that i love very much" you wink at the person you're referring to, as isagi's heart swells, before you return your attention to the other boy who didn't seem to notice it, "i'm sorry, but i'm taken".

"and may i know who's the lucky guy?", it's strange, but his smile that disappeared earlier just made his comeback at the mention of a boyfriend. just when you were about to answer, the teacher that was passing by your table notices your blank sheet. "young girl! why is your sheet still empty since the beginning of the class! i bet you were chatting and doing nothing." you wanted to justify yourself saying that was because you were helping your classmate -and some other stuff that won't be metioned- when the bell rang. "oh! well, since you did nothing you'll have two more exercises to do and I want them fresh for tomorrow." and just like that, she left to pack her belongings like everyone else in the classroom.

you sighed, you did feel upset but this was your favorite subject so even some extra exercises to do weren't gonna make you mad. but it did make isagi mad as he knew it was all this guy's fault. "so who is your boyfr-" he continued as he was not feeling a tiny bit guilty, when your dear boyfriend comes to you putting his arms over your collarbones and resting his head on yours as you're still sat. "i am his boyfriend, want an autograph? you've been asking for me several times, what d'you want?" his tone was cold, and he had all rights to do so.

"oh, so it's you, isagi." his gaze was at fist cold as well until a cocky smile drawn his way to his lips, "it must have hurt so bad seeing the girl you like loving someone else, huh?" so now, now you're gonna be mad. furious, even. as isagi was biting his lip and was about to speak, you put your hands on isagi's arms (which don't let go of you) and stand up to speak. "sorry but i won't let that one slide so easily." you start, "now that i see what you're really like, i don't even understand how i managed to like you. how can you attack someone on his feelings? this is just very lame and ridiculous. you're pathetic. don't ever think of repeating it again asshole, especially to my boyfriend." as the jerk stays silent and walks away mumbling something you didn't catch, isagi is left agape by what you just said. even if he liked it, he didn't know you could be mean, in a way. however, isagi stops him as you frown, wondering why.

"hey! you didn't even apologize to my girl." the trash scoffed at the nickname, "apologize? and for what?" isagi frowns, "do I really have to tell you? because of you keeping her busy with your shit she couldn't work and now she has even more work to do." in response, he just shrugs. "as if i care" the trash cackled as it walked away, which made your boyfriend even more mad. his grip on your shoulders was tightening, making you wince a little.

turning around to face him, he's met by your sweet smile. "it's okay yoichi, i don't mind" once again, he didn't seem to agree with you. "but he-" you cut him off saying that is really okay and that it was useless anyway. "what about we just go outside for the break, hm?"

sat on a bench with isagi by your side, hand in his with fingers locked together and head on his broad shoulder, he confesses something to you. "you know.. i was afraid you might leave me for him, earlier." his gaze was directed to the ground as you take off your head from against him, eyes open wide with surprise as they look straight into his. "i mean, look at him and look at me. plus, you were in love with him so..." putting your hands on each one of his cheeks you force him to look at you. "pardon me sir? i think i misheard what you just said??" yet he stayed silent, looking in your eyes with quite a sad expression. and if there's one thing you hate the most beside people eating cereals with water instead of milk (i swear it exists), it's seeing the person you love sad.

"first, you can't compare him to you. i mean, you're just so much better. second, i wouldn't have just forgot my feelings for you in a second and go with him. and third, don't remind me of back then, I'm just ashamed now. how could I not see you?" you stare at the ground, thinking about this. after all, that's true. you never really wondered how you did to not notice him and his love for you even when you realized that you shared his feelings. instead of him, you loved that jerk.

suddenly, you feel his fingers on your chin, lifting it up to lock lips with yours. the kiss is slow, so soft and filled with love that you can't help but melt into it. he stops only to carry on from another angle, putting his hand on the back of your neck. there's nothing to say, his kisses really are the best. however, this had to come to an end. "i love you." Even if he didn't say it aloud it still would be the same, because his deep blue eyes were screaming it. "it's fine, the past doesn't matter now that you're finally mine".

every day your love for him grows, and now it might just explode.

[winter-dayz]

So naïve...

Pairing: Felix Lee x Reader Fairy AU Genre: Angst; Horror (if you squint) Words: 1197

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

Tucked away in the shadows of the attic, a dusty car sat in a box of old toys. Its paint had faded some and the wheels no longer turned, but what made it special was the tiny fairy trapped within.

Fairies are rather fragile creatures, with delicate wings and reliant on the laughter of children to thrive.

But Y/N had become twisted. Her wings, once like fine lace and the envy of other fae, had wilted and warped. They had thickened into a leathery texture and darkened from their original opalescence into a swirl of sickly greens and browns. Her eyes, once playful and joyful, were a storm of melancholy and malevolence; her mood swinging wildly with pain, wrath, and hatred.

She had been bound to a stupid toy car by an ancient enchantment, a punishment for betraying the realm of the fairies over her love of a human boy. A human that later, also, turned on her and left her to fend for herself.

Since being stashed away, her every thought had been consumed by a thirst for revenge against either the fae realm that had cursed her to such a wretched, lonely existence or the family of the human that had pushed her to betray her own kind. Preferably both.

Confined to the small, lifeless world of the toy car and without access to love or attention—the bane of any fairy’s existence—Y/N had nearly rotted away.

It was when Felix entered the attic, his curiosity piqued by his parents’ insistence not to rifle through his ancestors’ old heirlooms, that Y/N felt hope again.

She had spent decades concocting her plan, after all. All she needed was someone naïve enough to take her little car out of this place. To care for it.

So, she bewitched him, using a bit of magic and allure she drew the freckled boy in like a moth to a flame.

And it worked.

Thinking nothing of why he felt so drawn to the box of toy cars, Felix took them from his parents home.

🎃

As Felix held the little blue bus up to the sun, investigating it curiously, Y/N was enacting the first step of her plan. He was kin to the wretched human that helped put her in this predicament, so he would have to pay. And to do that, she first used his own naivety against him.

With him touching the cursed object, she was easily able to bind them together. He would never be rid of her or the bus. Even if he didn’t fall for the rest of her plan, which she really doubted would happen, he would be forever bound to her. And she would assure his life would be hell.

The binding didn’t take long, but Felix noticed. To say he was baffled by the faint glow and whispers coming from the little bus in his hand would be an understatement.

And then he spotted her.

She glamoured herself to appear as beautiful as she once did, and Felix let out an astonished gasp. “Who are you?” He whispered as she slathered on a sickly sweet smile.

“I’m Y/N,” she waved at him cautiously and then pouted for good measure, “I’m trapped in this little bus. I’ve been cursed by evil fairies for eternal torment…”

Felix was filled with amazement at seeing the little creature. He’d never believed the kid’s stories his grandparents told him could be true, but here was living, breathing proof. There was a part of him that panged in sorrow for the poor thing’s suffering too, but an even smaller piece of his subconscious warned him against being too trusting.

Unfortunately for Felix, and fortunately for Y/N, he didn’t listen to the tiny voice telling him to be cautious of a fairy.

They couldn’t lie, right? And she was trapped, so what harm could she really do? That’s how Felix rationalized spending days upon days carrying around the little toy and spending late hours into the night telling her all about his life and dreams and listening to her talk about her home.

“I miss it, y’know,” she sighed wistfully, twirling a lock of hair around her tiny fingers. “I haven’t seen the flower fields in years… Oh! And the stars… You can see them, even during the day!” Y/N exclaimed, adding a little giggle, “Your cute freckles remind me of them though, so at least that helps now.”

Felix spent those days falling in love with the wicked, little fairy, and Y/N spent those nights finetuning her plan to betray him and destroy her “beloved” home.

“Can’t you go back?”

Y/N sighed mournfully, “I would love to… I want to touch the moonlight rays and feel the misty breeze beneath my wings again. But, like I’ve told you… I’m trapped in here.”

Felix huffed, “There must be a way… Isn’t there anything I can do to help?”

Y/N felt a burst of glee. He had fallen for her ploy. Hook, line, and sinker.

“Well…” Y/N began softly, “there might be. I’ve heard that a human who captures and truly cares for a fairy is able to break curses on them…”

Felix, on the other hand, felt desperate to help the beautiful, charismatic fairy. He had squashed the subconscious fear of the unknown creature and replaced it with a childlike dream that, once freed, they would be together somehow. Love conquers all, after all.

“The power of love…” Felix breathed out. “You just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it!”

“You just have to wish for me to be free, Felix. We need natural water, and for you to make your wish with pure intent.”

🎃

The next morning, Felix found himself wading into the lake with the little toy bus.

“And you’re sure this will work?”

She smiled, “It’ll work like a charm~”

Felix’s eyes closed when Y/N instructed that he was deep enough. As he made his wish for her freedom, he felt his heart begin to race. It felt like his soul was being sucked away; his entire being pulled down.

Y/N snickered, the little tinkling of her laugh sounding bigger and bigger and more sinister.

That tiny subconscious thought that the fairy wasn’t to be trusted was screaming at him now, and he tried to drop the bus, but found he couldn’t. He felt too compelled to hold tightly to the toy. He felt bound.

Y/N’s snickers turned louder; she was cackling. Felix’s eyes snapped open seeing the four walls of a faded blue metal toy surrounding him. Peering through the bits of plastic windows, he saw Y/N in full size and glory.

Her bat-like wings stretched behind her, crooked smile sneering at the little toy now in her hand. Her aura seeped inky blackness, bleeding into the water and poisoning the air around her.

He had freed her. She never lied that his love would do that. She just omitted the truth that the curse required one of their bloodlines to be trapped.

“Thanks for that, angel, “ She spat with a twisted smile. “So naïve…”

[yatorihell]

Noragami Reread Volume 14-17

Heaven arc in full swing and a lot of foreshadowing

Vol 14

52

'The world he sent her back to' final chapter line?????

Yato reaction to not knowing Hiyori's birthday, it's probably not something that would cross his mind since birth isn't a thing in his world

We never actually see what Yato does for her birthday party????

Kazuma forshadowing his betrayal to Yukine

Ebisu could've just called Kunimi when he got lost lol not a single thought in that head

Bishamon refusing to release Tsuguha is so stupid it's the only way to save her

'If I could just stay with Hiyori and Yukine that would be fine by me' hnnnn

God's exist for people vs Yato saving Hiyori at his own expense

People can only be truly saved by other people vs hospital arc vs recent chapter I hate this manga

Yukine sending Hiyori letters and Yato eating them

53

Just a fun little chapter, bit of Kazubisha and finding out the artist is actually Hiyori's brother at the end

54

Yato showing up to Masaomi and bynpinf into Hiyori after avoiding her for 2 months

'Just friends?' Yato what did you expect

For grandma Iki it's on sight she knows bad vibes when she sees them

Wonder if the Iki family can be like Father's lifeline for Yato

'Even one so immaculate and become bewitched by evil' Yukine downfall forshadowing

Grandma Iki asking will you protect my grandchildren vs recent chapter I hate life

'You've been my god of fortune for a long time' I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

55

Nora warning Yukine about Kazuma lol

Tsuguha breaking and that whole aftermath was... yeah

Saku suppressed his names with a spell but he's still out if it tbh

Kazuma be like lol I might be indebted to Yato but I'll still betray you

Vol 15

56

Time for Heaven arc

Yukine tells them Kazuma has betrayed them

Bishamon crying over surviving her shinki like babe she could've survived too if you released her

8 millions gods? Stop breeding

'I exist only for Viinas sake' get you a man who loves you this much

Yukine starting to have dreams about his past hnnnnnn

It must've been a ballache to draw the robes in heavens arc rip Adachitoka

57

It was a different shinki who got Ebisu, I wonder what form they take

Yato unsure of joining Heaven after Ebisu's death

Yato talks of defying heaven lol not foreshadowing at all

Then immediately asskissing to keep his god status

'I'd rather be a piece of shit' you are <3

Yato and Hiyori encouraging reconciliation between Yukine and Kazuma

Yato inviting Hiyori to heavens party

Tenjin didn't choose human guidepost because he knows they can betray you

Bishamon pissed Kazuma used resound on Yukine

Where's Suzuha's grave hmm I guess the cherry tree is it tbf since they visit it

Wish we saw more Bishamon and Hiyori

Yato as an obvious wolf in sheep's clothing

'To be blessed is to be buried' Yukine took it seriously

Foreshadowing of a god possessing a hafuri going rogue

58

I think this was the first chapter that released once I caught up with the manga

Everyone's so cute in their formal gowns, I like how Yukine's is blue and Hiyori's is probably red

Takemika being a little bitch to Ebisu

Popularity contest of the Gods and Stationmaster Tama appearing was such a nice touch

Matchmaking ceremony

Yato face when Kofuku says Hiyori's soulmate hsnbd

Yama is with her soulmate already that's cute

Hiyori literally watching her future being decided for her

It's so funny that all the soulmates are just like Yato

Oh Kofuku why did you tie it do you know what happened I'm so sad

Kiun vs Yukine

Hafuri sealed away foreshadowing

Takemika fight foreshadowing

Obtaining a hafuri requires an enemy which is why Takemika is so eager for a chance to fight

Bishamon gone missing and then it's like 2 years of stress

59

Hiyori wondering what it means that Kofuku tied thier plaques hhaaaaaa

Emishi bear god is so cute he won't kill you

Adachitoka working native gods in and their subdued nature with heaven, being happy to just live on their own land, being cultivated from reincarnation to make sure they don't defy again

After everything when asked his nature Yato still thinks of why he was born

Hafuri mono lore

Oh Kiun is so small circling Takemika in his little dragon form

Takemika needs to fuck off a bit no wonder you don't have a hafuri with that attitude

Yes Takemika you are pathetic whining for a hafuri

Oh no he's getting horny just thinking about getting a hafuri

Bishamon promising Heavens head to the hafuri

Marilyn Monroe moment for Bishamon I really love that dress

Shikki is such a look, our Batmon

Vol 16

60

Once again the serve on this outfit? Deadly

One year since they all met and it's Yukine's birthday (I'm ignoring what's about to happen)

Hiyori prayer to all be friends again hnn

Bishamon knowing how to track the Sorcerer from eye contact

Quick Father flashback, it's funnier knowing that he caused her death by driving her away

Heaven shows up so quick compared to the final arc lol

61

High treason declared against Bishamon

Ebisu trying to veto the subjugation order

Kofuku dead

Wonder what the other 7 unpardonable crimes are

Nora playing up to yukine to make sure Bishamon dies

Why did they change my balls are tingling

Ysto soft spot for Bishamon

Yukine having 50 aneurysms about yato revealing himself

62

Yatobisha dreams crushed they don't want a happing ending together

Yato can't reincarnate? Father stop gaslighting

Hiyori coming in with the steel chair on Father go girl

This is the most battle intensive we've been since like yomi

63

Hiyori showing up and fixing Yato's arm

Yato not abandoning Bishamon and wanting to live her innocence

Yukine crying because he wants to keep Yato safe

Vol 17

64

Kazuma offering to take Bishamon’s place for execution

Yato really is such a good fighter

'You aren't capable of truly loving people' Kazuma is self aware Bishamon doesn't feel that way (or does she)

'I will see him again' oh we didn't believe this for so long it took like 7 years

'He'll realise that he can't save anyone' vs recent chapter

65

Child Bishamon being punished by Father

Kazuma spell to help Yato and he's not even made up with Yukine yet

Bishamon god of calamity image

The Reveal that Nora knew her past already had us so shook

Nana past revealed and she was able to overcome it gave us so much hope for Yukine

Kazuma really thinks highly of himself lol of course they don't want a shinki to die instead of the traitor

66

Takemika being banned from lightning ad a child because of his nature

Mad how Takemika died from like a thousands cuts since the shinki slashed him to death along with the ayakashi

Takemika hiding his lightning and Kiun does it for him, they're such a good match

Yato Sekki bondage

Kiun puts himself in harm to make Takemika act and it works (not instantly)

Oh go crazy Takemika

67

What a form Takemika let him be a dragon

Yato shielding Sekki from the lightning because he's breaking a little

Once again the art is insane this entire arc

'I can't let Yato die no matter what' vs recent chapter

DO YOU THINK I'LL LET YOU TAKE HIM FROM ME

I WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO PROTECT YOU

Kazuma is such a psycho I want one

Damn kazuma stayed in human form for 5 years never being called

Bishamon asking for a pet name

Kiun stuck on the shinki are objects for the god narrative

Takemika got that female rage go girl

God remember when he cut Yato's neck and we freaked this actually reminds me of Yato and father

'But mine will always be on my side'

That line up of Yukine's eyes with Yato's face

Splitting the dragon in half

Kiun bowing and allowing Takemika to be who he is

[aurelion-solar]

Bewitching Miss Fortune - Unreleased Summoner Icon by Wild Blue Studios

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | seventeen.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: n/a

chapter word count: 2560

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please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

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One More Day

Morning came faster than you wished it would. The Spring sunshine creeped its way in through the curtains, casting a golden glow against the bed. You blinked away the harsh brightness, a stark difference to the darkness that you had grown accustomed to during the night - even in the Night Court the sun had never seemed so bright. But as you rolled over, warm and tranquil in the arms of your mate, you spared Lucien a glance. He had never looked as perfect, you decided in that moment, as he did when the daylight was kissing his golden skin. That skin, that covered the muscles of his back as he slept on his stomach, arm draped protectively over you, pulling you into his side, seemed to glow in that light, ethereal and beautiful. His hair, that auburn hue, like every single leaf on an autumn tree, the same colour that you had grown to love was magnificent and bright, cast around him against the pillow like a halo. And in that light, his face, sleeping and soft, seemed so bewitching, so stunning, each sharp line now mellowed to smoothness in his sleeping state.

And if you weren’t sure that Alis would be making her way up to your room any minute to wake you for breakfast and dress you for the day - perhaps with Carla in tow, although you weren’t sure if the younger maid would still be willing to serve you - you likely would have stayed there all day, simply basking in his beauty.

Begrudgingly, you sat upward, allowing the cover to fall to your waist. At your movement, Lucien stirred, his hand moving out toward you to feel for you, groaning when he could not find you beside him. You took his hand in your own and planted a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“I’m right here,” you whispered.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled. He tugged on your arm, pulling you back down so you were facing him as he turned onto his side and smiled sleeping over at you - even with his eyes half-lidded he still remained a sight to behold. “Stay with me.”

“As much as you know I wish I could,” you beamed, shuffling forward to plant little kisses to his upturned cheek. “Alis will be looking for me soon, and I’m sure you’d rather she not find us in this state again.”

“Oh, but why would I care when it means I can have you here for longer?” He groaned, reciprocating your kisses with kisses of his own against your neck, causing you to giggle gleefully.

“So, I suppose you would like to be the one to tell Tamlin where I slept last night then?” You asked between laughs. “Because if I stay here then either the servants will gossip and he’ll find out, or one of us will have to tell him, and it certainly won’t be me.”

Lucien hummed, biting down in the same spot that he had already left a mark. “With the way you were screaming my name last night,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulled back, and planting a fleeting kiss on your lips, “either he already knows, or he needs to get his hearing checked.”

“Lucien,” you groaned between laughs, and he grinned, finally letting his grip on you fall away, but not before planting a sweet, chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Go, before I change my mind,” he crooned as he rolled onto his back. You didn’t miss the way his eyes followed you as you slipped from the bed, throwing one smile over your shoulder before grabbing your dress from the night before and slipping it onto your body. You didn’t bother with the laces - they would be coming off once you were back in your room anyway - instead holding the dress against your front as you leant over and kissed him one final time that morning, savouring his sweet taste, and made tracks for the door.

But when you opened it, you weren’t met with the empty hallway you had been expecting, but rather the beady glare of Ianthe, leaning against the wall opposite as if she had been waiting for your exit. You closed the door quickly behind you. You knew that Lucien had likely seen that she was there, but you didn’t want her to see him like that - that view was reserved only for your eyes now.

“Sneaking out of rooms at first light,” Ianthe purred as she pushed herself from the wall and took a confident step toward you. “I thought you had left your whoring days behind you.”

“Excuse me?” You asked, rage filling every inch of your body, blocking out the pure happiness and joy that you had felt mere moments ago. “What did you just say to me?”

She took another step closer, and her eyes seemed to will you to back away, to stand down. But you did no such thing, standing your ground, keeping your chin high. “Do you really think that you - a whore, who has fucked half of Prythian at this point - is really what Lucien needs?” She asked, her voice so melodic that the cut seemed to fall deeper. Her tone reminded you of Amarantha to a point, sweet and crooning with an undertone of malice. She reached forward, pulling at the neckline of your dress slightly, not enough that it fell, but enough that a larger portion of your bare skin was on-show. “Such a pity really, that he feels he must deprecate himself with the likes of you.”

It was your turn to take a step toward her this time, turning your chin upward so that you were looking at her down your nose, as she deserved. “Just because your Tamlin’s pretty little side-thing, doesn’t mean that you have any right to speak to me like that,” you snarled. Behind you, the door opened, and Lucien's presence calmed you just slightly. “I could end you even without my powers, so I suggest, in the future, you be more mindful of what you say to me.”

Her eyes danced between you and Lucien as her lips curled into a cruel smile. “And perhaps you should be more mindful of who you threaten,” she smiled.

One more step toward her and you were so close to her that you could see your own reflection in her eyes. “I mean this with everything that I have,” you bit, “fuck off, Ianthe.”

Her smile only seemed to grow, even as she turned, offering one side-long smile at Lucien, and sauntered down the hall. Lucien was pulling you into his arms in an instant. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said quietly. “Can you walk me back to my room?”

Lucien nodded, closing his bedroom door as he took your hand and walked you across the hall. But even when you reached your door and he cupped your face in his palms, planting a kiss to your lips, one word ran through your head.

‘Whore. Whore. Whore.’

Your body ached; training with Silas that morning had offered you a reprieve from the harsh words that were running through your brain. You knew better than to listen to Ianthe, knew that whatever it was she was after was only in order to gain something for herself, yet the word seemed to stick, right there in the forefront of your mind. Only when you had been swinging your sword - when Silas had commended you for the new techniques that you had learnt during your time in the Night Court - had your mind felt clearer. But now, as you wandered down toward Tamlin’s study, that nagging belittlement made a harsh return. 

Lucien and Tamlin were already in the study when you arrived, along with Hart who waited patiently by the door for his orders. All three males looked up at you as your footsteps approached the door, and Tamlin held out a hand with a tight-lipped smile to offer you a seat opposite his desk. You gladly took it.

“Now,” Tamlin said, leaning his fists against the desk as he looked over at you, “what can you tell us about the Night Court?”

“I’m afraid probably not a lot,” you said, shrugging slightly. “They mainly kept me locked away in my room. Sometimes they would bring me out for parties, but I would always end up locked in my room again.”

Lie number one of this meeting.

“Do you remember anything about where you were kept?” Tamlin asked with a small frown. “Anything about the room?”

“I remember Rhysand once referring to the place as Hewn City,” you explained, something that you and Azriel had decided was information that could be put on the table with little to no risk at all. You glanced up to Lucien. “And Keir was there - he seemed to be in charge when Rhysand wasn’t around.”

Lucien’s body tensed at the mention of Keir - of the male who had touched you so publicly Under the Mountain, who had slapped you to the ground only to receive a verbal lashing from Lucien himself.

“Hewn City,” Tamlin said thoughtfully. “Rhysand mentioned that place to me before - said it was the main residence of the High Lord and his family.”

Lie number two of that meeting.

It was exactly what Rhysand wanted Tamlin to think, so that there would be no chance of Tamlin finding out about Velaris, a risk that Rhysand wasn’t willing to take, not after everything he had given up to protect it. You wondered why he had been so willing to show it to you on your first time in the Night Court, and yet had never once taken Feyre there in the week that she had been bound in the Night Court by their bargain.

“That must be where he’s keeping Feyre,” Tamlin concluded, searching through the maps scattered across his desk. “She is his ‘prize’, so he would want her close to him.”

“I never saw Feyre there,” you pushed once again, the same narrative that you had provided him with the night before. His green eyes snapped to meet yours. “If she was in Hewn City I’m sure I would have seen her at the parties that Rhysand threw. She wasn’t there, Tam.”

Lie number three of that meeting.

“So, he’s keeping her somewhere hidden in the city,” Tamlin suggested.

“That might be so,” you said slowly, “but if you are able to succeed in getting her back, what happens with her bargain? I assume you haven’t found a way to break it yet, otherwise you would have done it already. Even if you bring her home, she’s still going to be taken away again next month.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Tamlin said, his jaw gritting slightly.

“No, she’s right,” Lucien interjected. “There’s no point getting Feyre back unless we can work out a way to break that damned bargain. Tamlin huffed out a sigh, falling back into his desk chair, his head falling to his hand.

“Fine,” he ground out. “Research. Send letters. Do anything that you have to do to break that bargain.”

Lucien nodded once. “I will.”

It was somewhat of a relief to be back in that little greenhouse with Lucien again, as if you had walked straight into a memory. It was just as incredible as the first time you had seen it; just as beautiful, just as fresh and blooming. Lucien had all-but grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him when you had tried to sneak away to find the spell book after the meeting with Tamlin, and whilst you were hesitant about letting precious moments go by without that book in your possession, you were willing to waste away an hour at the most by his side. Especially when he had suggested coming to the greenhouse. He picked a spot near the centre, a large plain of grass surrounded by beds filled with chrysanthemums of varying shades of pink and red and purple, bright and regal against the green of the grass.

And there the pair of you laid, side-by-side, hands locked together, staring at the glass ceiling and watching the clouds as they floated by. There was a comfortable silence that fell between you. It was welcoming. He was welcoming - he always had been, ever since Under the Mountain. His hands were warmer than yours, but then Lucien always had an air of warmth about him that others seemed to lack. Rough skin on the ends of his fingers pressed against your hand as he squeezed tightly, once, twice, three times.

“I wish that we could run away somewhere,” he said after a while, his comment followed by a heavy sigh. You let out a small huff of a laugh as he turned to look at you with a childish grin, golden eye gleaming. “We could just find some land and build a little house. Maybe by a stream or a lake.”

“We could get some chickens,” you suggested, “and a dog.”

“Yes we could,” he hummed in approval. “I could farm the land, and you could work as a mercenary.”

You snorted. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Another moment of silence, before he was rolling onto his side to look at you properly. “We could be happy, you know. Just me and you, forever.”

“We don’t need anyone else,” you said softly, your free hand coming to rest on his cheek. He reached up and mirrored your action, his fingers twirling around the end strands of your hair.

“So let’s go,” he said, so earnestly that you almost said ‘yes’ on the spot. “We could leave today-”

If it weren’t for the spellbook, if it weren’t for the upcoming war…

“Lucien,” you interrupted gently, stroking at his cheek. “You know that we can’t. There’s too much happening…”

Lucien sighed, turning his head to plant a sweet kiss on your palm. “I know,” he said quietly. “Perhaps we can go tomorrow then.”

“One more day,” you agreed.

“One more day, and then we’ll leave,” he confirmed, smiling softly.

Yet, you both knew that it wouldn’t be just one more day.

It was already growing dark when you slipped down to Tamlin’s vault. Usually there were sentinels on the door, but Tamlin had sent most of them to the border in hopes of finding clues to get Feyre back, meaning that the vault had been left unguarded, much to your own luck.

Any other day, you would have been distracted by the jewels and necklaces and expensive paintings that were tucked inside that vault, but not today. No, instead you walked straight past them to the furthest corner of the room, where a small wooden box was tucked behind one of those paintings. You pulled the box out, swallowing hard as you placed it on the table behind you. This was it - the spellbook. You just had to get it back to your room, and send a message to Rhys who would send either Azriel or Mor to come and pick it up.

You pulled at the clasp, listening as it clicked, and pulled open the lid. Your heart nearly stopped. Because there was the velvet lining of the box, red and bright. But the box was empty.

Amarantha’s spellbook was gone.

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland | @judig92 | @old-enough-to-know-better73 | @atrashsith | @chanaaaannel |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove | @lumos-barnes | @cumuluscranium | @dreamlandreader | @enrichmenttimeinmyenclosure | @rachelnicolee |

[mlntbaozi]

Various fan skins I did for skintober on twt!

left to right, top to bottom: Space Groove Miss Fortune, Cafe Cuties Orianna, Arcana Quinn, and then Vampire/Bewitching Sett

[bethanydelleman]

Caroline Bingley Appreciation

I use Caroline Bingley in my Jane Austen Fan Fiction a lot. I have now married her off to seven different Jane Austen characters! My opinion of Caroline just isn’t as low as most people. Yes, she’s mean and she’s willing to step on other people on her climb to the top, but she doesn’t do anything that bad. She will probably do well in life. And she did warn Elizabeth about Wickham! We also probably see the very worst side of her, since she spends much of her page time jealous of Elizabeth.

I just finished a new story where Caroline and Mary Crawford meet at school and fall in love. So I decided to collate all my Caro short stories:

No Higher Ambition - Caroline is in love with Mary Crawford, but Mary insists that both of them ought to marry gentlemen. Caroline decides to try for the rich Mr. Darcy.

A Truly Accomplished Lady - Caroline is a genius who has made a fortune equal to that of Mr. Darcy. With men constantly trying to marry her, she decides to take a vacation in Hertfordshire with her brother and is bewitched by Elizabeth Bennet.

Poor Caroline - The other characters from P&P comfort Caroline after she is forced to participate in another hurtful JAFF story

In Service of a Brother - What was Caroline thinking when she cut off her friendship with Jane?

The Miss Bingleys - What if Louisa had not been married and both sisters were trying for Mr. Darcy?

A Different Life (Sad story) - After Elizabeth Darcy dies in childbirth, Darcy is persuaded to remarry so that his daughter will have a mother. He marries Caroline.

Fall on the Sword - Every single woman in Jane Austen’s collected works decides if they want to marry the recently divorced Mr. Rushworth or not.

And of course, Caroline is the star of my novel, Prideful & Persuaded.

[deadpoetinautumn]

There is no such thing as a timid Lion.

Prince Aemond Targaryen and the Lannister girl.

Laenna Lannister, daughter of Jason and Johanna, was the quietest of the Lannister spawn. Her brothers and sisters all seemed to wear their hearts on their sleeves, like their father, and his father before him. This is what Aemond thinks as he stares down at a group of them from his place at the high table. He hates weddings. And most of all, he hates his older brother Aegon, whose wedding it unfortunately happens to be. He removes his gaze from the Lannisters as the youngest brother tackles his younger sister the floor and she begins to weep. With a noise of disdain, he looks upon his drunken brother, and quiet pensive sister for whom he would do anything.

As Aegon was lauded by all the sers and ladies in the hall, Helaena murmured to herself aside him, her eyes fixed upon a spot beside Aemond’s own foot. Extending an undetectable hand of comfort to his sister, a rather fair, golden-haired lady in the Lannister corner of the hall catches his eye. Her hair is swept up haphazardly in a peasant’s up-do, strands amiss, aloft and abundant, yet her dress is the most extravagant thing Aemond has ever seen. He must himself admit, despite the Targaryen propensity for extravagance, no house does lavish quite like the Lannisters. The gown is blood red, embroidered and beaded with gold lionesses which patrol the circumference of her collarbones, shoulders and back. It looks out of place on her frame, superimposed and unnatural. It’s brashness juxtaposed with her gentility seems to bewitch Aemond.

“The Lady Laenna Lannister.” Comes the voice of Otto Hightower from his right. Laenna. The name could roll off of Aemond’s tongue. Lay-enn-a. He is so focused on the familiar way it sounds in his head that he conveniently misses his grandsire’s monologue on the importance of humility as a great and noble house - something which the Lannister’s obviously lack in his view.

“The Lady Laenna has a reputation for being quite the enigma. I do suspect she is fortunate enough to have more of her mother in her than her siblings possess.”

Aemond’s head quirks at the name said aloud. His remaining eye twitches. Curious. He looks at her still.

“She is rumoured to be quite mad - a rumour your mother was plagued by not so long ago. I wonder if we might extend the courtesy of-“

“I shall go.” Aemond spits, interrupting. “I shall offer my gratitude for her family’s congratulatory gifts to the happy couple.” He rather spits the last bit, allowing his discontent to slip from beneath the mask for a second. It was a mistake to do this before of Otto, he realises in less than a moment.

“If it is romance you want boy, you had better listen more enthusiastically to your elders and betters.”

Otto’s stare is calculating as he prods his grandson.

“Extend the courtesy of a betrothal, was my full intent.”

Aemond is silent. His face is empty before, during and after his response.

“I will do my duty for our family.”

It is what he says every time something is asked of him. It is a rehearsed line. He bows his head and excuses himself from the seat beside his scheming grandsire to pour some wine, before his presence becomes too much for Aemond to bear. He passes behind his mother’s chair and wonders whether Alicent has a hand in the many attempts to betroth her favourite son. Aemond knows he is his mother’s favourite - he has always known. Which is why he has also known that he must do whatever is asked of him, to make Alicent’s life even just a little bit less burdensome.

He takes a sip of his newly poured wine, allows his brother to clap him on the back and resolves to simply not-quite-grin and bear it.

* * *

News of the Lannister girl’s wardship spread across Westeros like wildfire. It was done and dusted not six months after the Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena were wed. Everyone knew that the King and Queen were desperately trying to forge Alliances in the face of the King’s ultimate demise. Everyone knew that the Lannister’s were of the utmost strategic importance. Whomever their loyalties lay with would prevail.

The choice of Lannister daughter for the One-eyed Prince did not surprise the masses either. Laenna was beautiful, despite her odd fashion and manner, and she was also the blackest sheep of the Lannister family thus far. Laenna was silent. She spoke barely a word, and was as demure as an ornamental vase. This would undoubtedly make her the more palatable Lannister option for the Targaryen Prince. There would be no typical garishness in his future wife. The general consensus was that it was the perfect match.

Aemond himself had no feelings towards the matter, and was able to erase it from his mind entirely, to train vigourously with his sword and to study the histories, until the year after the wardship was proposed. This is when Laenna Lannister arrives from Casterly Rock.

All that Aemond remembers of her from the wedding was her fairness, her peculiar hair and ridiculous Lannister textile combination. He remembers also an emptiness in her expression that matches his own. So when she exits the cart in the courtyard of the Red Keep, Aemond is not surprised to be met with relatively the same sight. Laenna’s travelling cloak is exactly as ridiculous as her dress at the wedding was, almost a carbon copy in fact. Her hair is done this time however, knotted back in a great many braids. She looks almost spotless when she is greeted by his mother. They eye each other with identical looks of polite welcome and Aemond thinks she’ll do just fine here.

She curtesy’s to him and he bows in return. Her face reveals nothing as her eyes meet his. She is as empty as he. An enigma, he thinks to himself in near delight. He will crack her wide open - he will discover every secret she has. It’s almost like she can hear his thoughts and her left eye twitches before she turns from him to be led inside. Aemond is glad for a new challenge to occupy his time with. He has grown bored of Maegor and his wives.

* * *

Aemond seeks out his possible betrothed at every opportunity aside from taking the doors from her chambers. He finds her most often in the reading room, which is convenient, as it is where he spends most of his free time anyway. She is almost always at a table in the far corner, by a small set of windows that overlook the gardens. She is always with her needlepoint. Aemond doesn’t recall a time, other than the wedding and her arrival, that he has seen her without it. He is sure she is attempting to bore him in hopes of escaping the betrothal.

He thinks this because of the only conversation he has ever successfully had with the girl. It involved her needlework. He must have said something along the lines of: “However can you pass such a futile time with your needle and thread.”

She smiles emptily up at him and replies simply that, “The sword is a noble weapon, yes, but so is my needle.”

He remembers her tilting her head so that the sunlight from the window hits only one side of it. It is as though she is made half of gold and half of shadow in his mind.

“The needle decorates and embellishes, but it also possesses the power to conceal what must be concealed. Dressmaking is no fool’s errand, my Prince.”

Laenna is frustrating Aemond. She is seemingly half a person, yet there exists something in her eyes that tells Aemond the Lannister girl is performing. Perhaps her full house of eyes is her downfall. He can see doubly well into her soul, and he is sure he sees some desire in it.

Aemond continues his investigating for the rest of the year, but Laenna remains an utterly faultless maiden. In fact, the more spotless her record becomes in the keep, the deeper and darker Aemond’s obsession spirals. He forgets all of the plots against his brother, he forgets the histories. He will find out what Laenna Lannister is hiding, and he will use it to ruin her.

* * *

The idea of a betrothal is all but forgotten about in the turmoil of King Viserys’ illness. But the King dies when the moon turns. Thereout is chaos.

The Red Keep is plunged into the depths of panic, and of lockdown. It seems the Hightowers have been planning to usurp Rhaenyra Targaryen’s Throne for some time now, and Viserys is not yet cold when they throw their plans into action.

Aemond is sent to retrieve his missing brother, and he does as his duty bids him. He shall always put his duty before himself and his trivial pursuits, yet something strong is gnawing in him, telling him to stay. He ignores it, and ventures into the murky dregs of fleabottom in search of his dimwit brother for his anxious mother.

Laenna has tried hard to slip under the radar this past year. In fact, she has done so all her life. The most valuable advice she has ever received was from her mother at the age of three and ten.

Do not underestimate the power of being underestimated.

Laenna did not. Laenna would never. There was not a single scratch in her facade, no glimmer of personality until she met Aemond Targaryen. At first she thought her courtship with the prince would be easy. She would fool him, and she would fool herself. But Aemond was beautiful. He was more beautiful than she could hide behind glassy eyes and a placating smile. Without her training there was no earthly way of removing this insatiable passion the Prince had brought on her. The way he fought in the courtyard, light and quick on his feet, vicious, unrelenting. It was the same way he was with her, and Laenna loved every second of it. Johanna had always said her passion would be her downfall.

It was not, as it happens.

Laenna’s downfall was, in the end, other people. As the three members of the kingsguard storm into her chambers, Laenna sees the end of her facade.

It’s a race against time really.

Aemond realising he has left his near-betrothed, and hopeless object of his infatuation utterly defenceless against the march of the court to the dungeons.

The blade sewn into the inside lining of her petticoat.

It is in her hand in three seconds.

Every attacker is dead, blood seeping into the floorboards in three minutes.

A lean, silver-haired figure staggers to a halt in the doorway. He has been running - Laenna can tell. There is an angelic flush on his face, and for a brief moment, Laenna almost believes in the seven.

Aemond Targaryen can disguise many feelings with ease. Admiration is not one of them. He looks at her, eyes wide. She drops her blade and raises her arms in a nonchalant shrug.

“I am ever so glad the charade is up, my lord.” Laenna sighs.

She is with him in two strides, palms against his chest, nose just beneath his. She whispers the truth into where his jaw meets his neck.

“It was growing tiresome.”

The dragon’s heart takes flight from his chest, and slips itself between the lion’s fingers.