#but when she lets herself sing in a lower voice it brings out her best

[vtuberconfessions]

I love when Calli sings in a deeper tone, she's so talented

.

[deadqueenz]

Eddie Gluskin x Female Reader: My Everything

Part Two: Lady Killer

Warning mentioning of SA

Happiness is hard to find, let alone to keep. Memories you wish you could erase and wash yourself clean of those who harmed you. Mentally, physically, emotionally, and lastly verbally. If there was truly a way to turn back time, or to wash oneself clean and pure like the winter snow, imagine how far people would go to get it.

Even if it was free, there are some who would be greedy to keep it to their-selves. There would even be some who would use it for bad reasons, instead of for good.

Fascinating. Isn't it? How one can go from being good to bad? All it takes is one push in that direction, and you've created a monster. But most times, it's never the victim's/survivor's fault for things that happen to them.

It's the monster and their sick mind.

Eddie Gluskin, what type of man would he be if those monsters never got to him? How many times did his mother turn her back on him when he was only a mere child begging for her help? The sorrow in her eyes, overshadowed by disgust. She feared her husband, but at the same time, how could she sit back and let what happened to her son happen?

Unfortunately for Eddie and his mother, the fear won every time. She would bite her nails or lower lip until it bled, trying her damned best to focus on her wifely duties and block out the noises until the ordeal was over. And even then, she couldn't bring herself to look her son in the eye afterwards.

The guilt ate at her like a hungry wolf tearing into its prey. Alcohol became her best friend, a lover that made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, bringing a beautiful blush to her cheeks. She drunk in secret, not even the bastard she was forced to call a husband knew about her addiction.

Even if he did, what would he do? He drunk like a fish out of water himself! And it was best to keep quiet about his bastard of a brother, at first, he didn't live under the same roof as them, but as he once put it; "his living conditions become unstable as of late." Leaving the bastard to live with them and able to do as he wished like his brother.

Mrs. Gluskin can't even begin to remember the countless times she felt and seen him watching and hovering over her. When she was in the shower, or simply taking a bath, she knows she's closed the door behind her, but it didn't help when she would feel eyes on her, seen the door open a crack through the bathroom mirror, or seen him just standing there, smiling creepily at her; 'I needed to use the bathroom, but unfortunately, you were in here.' That accursed damned lie.

Locking the door was futile, considering the house they were forced to share both the Master bedroom bathroom and the other one. Her husband would get furious and may even take the lock off again, let alone beat her until he was satisfied or couldn't wait any longer to shove a bottle of beer down his gullet.

To forget her pain and sorrows, she would wait until the bastards leave for their usual bar, grab her preferred liquor or wine for the night, play some music and soak in a long well-deserved bath. By that time, Eddie would've been dreaming of sheep but unfortunately, he was wide awake.

His small body grown immune to the sleeping medicine.

He made his way to the bathroom, finding the door ajar and his mother slurred voice singing loudly to her favorite song, fully submerged in the bath water up to her chin. her eyes glossed over as she stares up at the ceiling, taking a swig from the large suds covered bottle before letting it slip back into the tub.

Out the corner of her eye, she spots a tiny black-haired figure peering around the doorway, she smiles; laughs even, before telling Eddie he could come in. Hesitantly, he slowly made his way over to his mother, stopping a few inches away from the tub. She hums- a hymn he was quite familiar with- as she brushed a wet hand over his head.

"Mother loves you, you know that? She always has, and she always will." She spoke softly, staring into his blue eyes as she caresses his head. Moments passed before Eddie begins to feel drowsy again, a small yawn leaving his lips, making his mother chuckle softly.

"Let mama have a few more minutes, and she'll be in to tuck you into bed again, okay?"

He nods, turning around and making his way back to his small cold little room. On the way back, his eyes glance over to their room. It was quiet; no obnoxious snoring, loud laughing, or the sounds of breaking bottles being shattered. They must be out 'doing man things' as his mother once put it.

He makes his way to his room, not wanting to be caught wandering about the house after curfew hours, again. Quiet as a mouse, he slips back under his blankets and waits for his mother to arrive...

He awakes sometime later, music off and his mother no longer singing. He realizes, regrettably so, that he's fallen asleep. The house was eerily quiet, making him feel uneasy. Seconds later, he hears footsteps and his door creaks open, his mother.

She hums quietly, carrying a steaming mug of warm milk in her left hand as she quietly closes the door behind her. Unsteadily, she makes her way over to the bed and smiles peacefully at Eddie, he could smell the alcohol wafting off of her. Long dark hair damp from her bath, eyes red rimmed and puffy, she was wearing a white night gown that stopped at her ankles, and her hands shook slightly as she passes the mug to Eddie.

This time, the milk wasn't laced with anything. He could sleep normally tonight. He cautiously sips the warm milk, not wanting to burn himself as a childish grin makes its way onto his face. The mother and son duo sat quietly in peaceful silence, the moon shining through Eddie's window giving the room a soft white glow.

"Mommy's sorry Eddie." His mother whispers, he doesn't say anything, just continue to quietly sip from the mug until it was empty. Once he was finished, he holds the mug out for her to take and she smiles genially, taking the mug, and leaves his room as quietly as she came...

Nine. Years. Old.

Eddie Redacted Gluskin, was only nine years old when another monster came and took his mother away. Or maybe it was his fault, or maybe.... He didn't know anymore. He only remembers bits and pieces now. He wanted to forget, he wanted to forget it all. The blood, the monsters, the pictures,-leave it to beaver leave it to beaver leave it to beaver- the screaming, the crying, the body....

Oh, the body? Don't you mean Your Mother's Dead Body....Eddie Gluskin? His nineth birthday was excruciating, the monsters wearing the skins of his uncle and Father, gave him.... Gifts. Pictures of their.... loving memories together. And for his ninth birthday, they wanted to create new photographic memories. His mother gnashed her teeth together, drinking more than she usually do, the day passed in a blur; sounds were muffled like she was under water.

She passed out on the sofa, arm thrown over her eyes to block out the setting sun, her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She felt a hand touch hers, the bottle slips through her fingers and spills onto the rug. She slaps the hand away roughly, "Dirty filthy bastard *hic*, get away from me."

Silence. Followed by a sniffle, before footsteps hurried away. She didn't hear a thing considering she fell asleep again. Nighttime rolls around, it was around 10p.m. when Mrs. Gluskin wakes up again, somehow she managed to make it to her bedroom in her drunken state and proceeded to strip to take a bath.

She continued to curse her bastard of a husband and that god-awful brother of his. A child, let alone her own son. She sneers, picking up one of many empty wine bottles from atop her dresser and throws it in her drunken rage. She loudly curses them both.

"Damn you, you make me sick! I can't bear to look at you any longer." And the fact he gave her a son, that resembled his father by his looks? Even more horrifying. After everything he's done, he then turns around and tries to bed her right after?!

She couldn't bear the sight of that man, neither showed any signs of remorse when she found the pictures. She vomited over and over, that day. Feeling disgusted and hated herself for not noticing sooner. But she hated her husband more, and her brother-in-law he tried to seduce her behind his own brother's back, and she rejected every attempt.

When he stopped flirting and watching her, she should have known he was doing the same thing as her husband. The verbal and physical abuse continued throughout the years, Eddie's nightmares happened more frequently, the sleeping pills lost their effectiveness. So she used different pills and syrups to help him sleep throughout the night.

She didn't want her son to hear that man call her out her name; 'Whore', 'Slut', and oh gods the beating. Alcohol truly helped with the pain. Little did she know, Eddie heard and saw the whole thing. When his father would beat his mother, she would cry and give in to his demands, doing whatever he told her too.

When the beating was too much, he treated his wife with respect, in hopes -yet knowing- she wouldn't go to the police to report him for his crimes. In the small town they lived in, the other housewives were jealous of the Gluskin's married life. Outside the house, they were showcased as the little perfect family. A loving couple who loved their one and only son, with the charming and funny shockingly single uncle to boot.

Inside the house, hell reigned behind those four walls. Gloves were off, one-sided punches were thrown, mouths were unfiltered, and the son was trapped in the middle of it all. Mrs. Gluskin picks up another bottle, hearing the liquid slosh around inside it, she helps herself to it.

Forget. Forget.

That's right, that's all she wanted to do right now, forget everything for a moment and deal with it at a later time. She loved her son, truly she would die for him before she let anything happen to him. Yet....She feels like she failed- no- she knows she failed him when he needed her most.

That was the reason she started drinking, she couldn't face the guilt while being sober, it gutted her ruthlessly. A sob breaks the quiet, her lips trembled, before she could break down completely, she takes a large gulp from the bottle. Hard Liquor. It was typically a man's drink, but at this moment, she didn't care.

She stumbles to the bathroom, turning on the water and sits on the side of the tub to wait for it to fill up. Once it did, she turned the water off, polishing off the bottle before placing it on the floor near her feet. She lowers herself into the tub, slipping down until her chin touched the water. But then, she spots something out the corner of her eye, she quickly turns her head to see, scoffing when realization hits.

Eddie was standing there, peering into the bathroom. His blue eyes pierced the dim lighting of her room. His hair more unkempt than she remembered. Another nightmare, just her luck. She sighs, lifting a hand out of the water to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Go back to bed, I'll be in there in a bit. Okay?"

Expecting her son to walk away, Mrs. Gluskin slips further down into the bath and closes her eyes....It's been estimated that Mrs. Redacted Gluskin, died sometime around 11pm due to blunt force trauma. No one knew how or why, but considering the husband and his brother were both missing and the front door was found wide open the next morning by the neighbors, what else were they to think?

Either the husband or brother had something to do with the murder, or they both worked together. The small town was shaken to the core when they saw a body being brought out on a stretcher. Eddie was found by a neighbor standing nearby his mother's dead body, the sight wasn't gruesome, but somber.

The neighbor's report goes like this;

'I was leaving for work around 7am like usual, when I made my way to my car, I noticed across the street, their door was wide open. It was unusual; Redacted nor the missus were the type to just leave their front door open. I felt like something was off, considering their car was gone, and the lights in the house were off; well from what I could tell...

I made my way across the street, taking my pocket knife with me and called out to them from inside the house. No answer. The fear something was wrong grew more and more with each passing minute. Not knowing what I was going into, I went to get a buddy of mine and we ran back to the house with his shotgun in hand.

We checked through the entire house, nothing, at least....Until we found the master bedroom. The door was pulled close, but we could hear running water, I called out; asking if anyone was in there, to answer me.

Still nothing, I pushed open the door, the carpet was damp; my work shoes squelched with each step as I made my way over, I could hear the water more clearly, I pushed the door open and there way the son; his back towards me and he was looking at something in the tub.....Judging by the legs hanging out the tub; I knew then it was Redacted.

The kid, their son, he asked me was his momma dead. I didn't know I was standing beside him until he asked me that. She was laying there, motionless; eyes wide open yet staring at nothing. I turned the water off, I felt sick to my stomach, my buddy was on the phone with police. He looked like how I felt, I took the kid with me and we all exited the house.

It wasn't long after that when the police and paramedics showed up...'

Mrs. Gluskin was pronounced dead at the scene, the son was placed with a family within the town and a search was put out for the husband and brother, it wouldn't be until nine years later that the both of them were found along with.....disturbing photographs.

During the trial, Eddie Gluskin, who was eighteen years old, had a breakdown on the stand, just like nine years prior when asked about his father and uncle. Unfortunately, he escaped police capture when they tried to calm him down and was later pronounced missing.

The father and uncle both were sent to prison for murder, information redacted, you are not authorized to view any further. Days later after being arrested, they were found dead in their prison cells. The other inmates, nor the officers present at the time, knew anything. Those that live in the small town, at the time, had all moved away.

The horrifying secrets of the small town remains only in the memories of those that lived there and would remain with them even after death. Unfortunately, Eddie Gluskin was never found, and even then, nobody searched for it. Feeling that the young man suffered enough already.

All they ever hoped for, was that he was safe, alive, and living well....

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO BRING YOU AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE! Earlier today, another woman was found brutally murdered in her apartment, police have yet to release more information but advises people to stay and remain indoors at night. Please check that your doors and windows are locked, and if you see anything suspicious, please contact the number listed below...

"Oh my, how unfortunate."

[hopeforkitten]

The sketch is like a Dark Urge worried about meeting Baal (how can he know that he will be resurrected by the Withers) and asks for insurance from Raphael.

Tav, in secret from her companions, made her way to Sharess' Caress, she is not used to acting like this. like a ghost, she reached the doors to the devil's lair, quickly slipped through the doors and quietly closed them. immediately, a familiar voice reached her

- Oh, what I see, my beloved client has decided to make the right decision, hasn't he?

Tav was hesitating at the door, holding her hands together and somehow guiltily looking at the devil, lowering her head.

- What an interesting confusion, I'm all ears.

he almost interrupted her and it took Tav a few seconds longer to gather her thoughts again.

- Raphael...

- Yes, I'm listening

Tav finally found the strength to walk a few steps deeper into the room. She inhaled and looked up, still pinched in her shoulders.

- Even during our first meeting, you called me an "incomparable sinner" and talked about "bloody pleasure". Now I understand more about it, but then you knew about my past from the very beginning?

- Oh, of course. You have already reunited with your old friends. That quarrelsome boy Gortash probably told you everything.

- Yes, I found answers about the past, but here's my future... - Tav pulled herself together and grimaced, reaching the topic that worried her so much.

- I want a better future for you, where you will be the savior of Baldrus Gate, even though you resist him.- the devil was smiling and gesticulating, but he was beginning to get the alarm Tav

For a second, their eyes crossed again. Tav, his cheeky mouse is almost crying in front of him, and is desperately looking for salvation in his eyes. He is upset by this picture.

- Well, what is it? I don't like it when my little mouse are scared into a frenzy, how will they talk to me?

Raphael's words did not affect Tav, she did not relax a bit.

- Dear, - Raphael came closer and squeezed Tav's elbow, bringing her back to reality.

She looked up at him ready to let out all her worries

- This is my father. Everyone wants me to meet him as soon as possible, but... I'm going to die, I know that. - speaking about death, she became quieter, but continued louder, almost singing out the words.- I love this world, if I accept his will, he will perish, if I reject it, I will perish. I would not be afraid of the prospect of fighting an ancient god and dying in this battle, but.... to perish at the snap of his fingers, at his command alone...

Tav took Raphael's hand in hers. He felt her tremble and sweat.

- My life is over - She laughed nervously, - it will be the end, Raphael, I will not become a hero of Baldrus Gate - She squeezed his hand and smiled like a fool in the square.

The devil was surprised by such a confession and such behavior.

- If you could help me,- Tav continued hesitantly. - be my insurance that will get me out of the next world? 

The lights of hope shone in her eyes

- Oh, mouse, just. You once defeated an ancient god, why such fears?

- You understand perfectly well that everything is somewhat different here, do not inspire me with hope

-Hope is the best of feelings for my clients.

Raphael was flirtatious as always, he wasn't going to get into Tav's panic.

- You know what human life is tied to and what currency devils work with, don't you?

- My soul, I know. Take her and bring me back from the other world when Baal kills me.

- What determination. - Raphael took the usual distance of a couple of steps. and pulled his hands to his chest.

- And you... will you just give yourself to me? You do understand, little mouse, that after the resurrection your soul will still belong to me? These are the rules and not to say that they are me... upset. - Raphael returned his gaze to Tav and put a threatening emphasis on the last words.

- I understand, but I'm facing the only way out, Raphael.

- What a smart and prudent mouse, even I would say sacrificial, do you want to follow in the footsteps of one of your now a horned friend?

- Will saved the city, I'm trying to save myself

- Oh, how selfish we are

- You're Raphael...  please can you help me?

- I, of course, - he raised his hand as for his favorite finger snap, but stopped, - But what will I get from this? Do you remember the subject of the contract I proposed earlier, yes, smart mouse?

- The Crown of Karsus...

- Oh, yes, your memory does not fail. Your charming soul, with the mark of Baal, is good, but it's not enough. Don't make such a face, you understood everything correctly, you will give the crown to me

. He snapped his fingers and a document appeared in a cloud of sparks.

- And I have just the right contract. Would you like to read the fine print? - a gloating gesture from him

- The contract is not subject to discussion?

- No

- Then it will not improve my situation in any way

Tav grabbed a pen and quickly signed.

- It's so simple - Raphael spoke in disappointment and the contract disappeared.

Tav looked relieved, relaxed and somehow distantly upset, limp.

Raphael began to smile wider, he grabbed her chin and began to peer into her face. Tav couldn't object.

- Is it really my mouse that held herself so high in her team that she so bloodthirstedly put out the "Last Light". Even though you broke a few of my plans there, but you....you will replace them in full.

Tav withered before his eyes, her head became harder to hold in his hand.

- All right, get yourself in order, hero. You've done even more than you should, my good one, let your adored team support you

He released her chin and Tav moved out the door of the devil's den. The noise of the city should have calmed her thoughts, but she would not come to her senses soon...

Tav jumped up from the red sheets and immediately realized that this was a mistake. Pain shot through her body, she hunched over and clutched her head, her own touch felt like electric shocks. Nevertheless, she managed to stay half-sitting.

- Shhh, my dear, your chase is over.

Raphael's velvety voice reached her ears.

Tav was in the house of hope, in the boudoir. On his master's big bed. Raphael was sitting at a distance on a chair, obviously waiting for her to wake up for some time.

- What about my friends? - the first thing that came to mind was Tav

- Your charming team of adventurers did not mourn you for long. They were upset to learn about our agreement, but this is not something they have a say in. Even if you are just as charming dead, they need a more talkative leader.

For Tav, this answer was soothing music. she looked down at herself and realized that most of her body was covered in dirty bandages and infernal signatures. Tav began to examine her hands.

- And this is...?

- It's just paint, as soon as you get on your feet you can wash it off. Well, or ...

As if out of nowhere, a young copy of Raphael appeared on the bed in a red robe and obviously intricate leather straps peeking out from under it.

- Let Haarlep take care of you. His hands are the best thing that has ever happened to you, especially now he is in the best of his guises.

- Who is this?

- You owe him a lot, he is one of those who perfectly remembers the features of the human body and, most importantly, is able to recreate them.

Probably even this is not something that should be surprised by Tav, who recently rose from the dead.

- Thank you, it's not worth it, - still, this sudden image was a little alarming to Tav. Haarlep showed feigned disappointment and playfully lay down on the bed.

- Mouse, you should still let him at least touch you, it will facilitate your recovery.

- Maybe later, - Tav looked at Haarlep incredulously, and returned to examining the symbols on her body. - And am I now alternatively alive or what?

- Livelier than all the living. You will be completely clean when you recover, I even decided to remove your blatant brand absolute on the charming palm. I don't want to know how it appeared, I hope it wasn't by your will and I don't expect any stupid surprises on your part. - In the last words, Raphael was strict

- Think that it is.

Tav desperately wanted to doubt at least something of such a contented host of the house

However, wasn't it to him that she owed her life?

- Raphael... thank you. I could not imagine a better and more responsive service.

- You're starting to say the right words, you're clearly coming to your senses.

- And... my head...- Tav ruffled her hair with her fingers, running over the scalp - I don't hear the Emperor here and Baal's voice is no more... It's unbelievable I'm the mistress of my head again

Tav does not hold back the sounds at the next delayed outbreak of pain and the neighbor on the bed grabs her wrist. The pain goes away and she is enveloped by something softer than the silk sheets on which she is sitting

- Little battered mice shouldn't be stubborn,- Haarlep cooed, crawling closer to her and hugging her hand with two of his

- T-thank you

- How charming.- Raphael definitely enjoyed this sight, - Soon you will say goodbye to the voice of the Emperor forever. Then I will give you another luxurious reception at the House of Hope and you will finally be able to thank me properly.

Now without pain, only Haarlep's wagging tail distracted Tav from Raphael's dreamy speech.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Meteor Shower (Part 2)

Sometimes frozen rivers sing. Under the moonlight they crackle and hum. A deep and chilly aquatic type of sound. Low but somehow shrill and piercing all at once. That is the voice of Icy. Crackling, cold, and eerie if you don’t know what you are listening to.

She chooses her venues wisely—usually small and terribly exclusive places; hole in the wall night clubs, underground bars in a most literal sense, and abandoned factories painstakingly repurposed by passionate but unprofessional hands. On one occasion she’d managed to craft her own makeshift venue from a cave that she’d come by on one of their potions class outings.

Stormy and Darcy insist that it is damaging their chances to pick up real crowds and top the charts. Icy is adamant that it creates demand. A certain draw and allure that can only be afforded by elusivity and exclusivity. A need for fans to have their chance to say that they’ve done it.

It is more than that though. These niche, back alley places, they have an organic ambiance that the popular venues lack. They carry sound in extraordinary and unique ways. Ways that make her voice sound hauntingly ethereal. 

Sometimes she thinks that Darcy and Stormy don’t see the whole picture. Darcy in particular is fixated on the numbers. Icy only frets over those when they are related to the charts and their music video view counts. 

Icy closes her eyes and finishes her last note, letting it ring around the bar like a phantom on the prowl. She lets her fingers slide down the microphone and fall at her sides. The spotlight puts a shimmer on her deep blue eyeshadow and a twinkle in her long diamond earrings before it cuts out and the crowd is left to their cheering.

“That’s always the best part.” Stormy remarks once they are backstage. “When they start screaming our names, you know?”

“Sure.” Icy mutters as Darcy agrees, “absolutely.”

It isn’t that Icy doesn’t enjoy the fame and the praise. She is, in fact, absolutely enamored with their popularity. But sometimes it gives her a headache. Sometimes she just wants quiet. It is some residue of a different time. She sighs and pours herself a drink. “Darko said that he has some news for us.” She tips the glass back and empties it. “Made it sound like the kind of news we don’t want to hear.”

“I do and I did.” Darko slinks in, Lucy in tow.

“Is the bad news that you brought her here?” Darcy quirks a brow.

“Hey! I’m your number one fan. You three ought to appreciate me more. I’m practically your one man marketing team. Two man if I can get Mirta on board.” 

“You're such a dork, Lucy. Fucking pathetic.” Icy grumbles and clanks her glass onto the countertop from which she had plucked it. 

Lucy lights up a cigarette and takes a drag. She holds the package out. “Anyone else want one?”

“I don’t know, Icy, she might not be so bad.” Stormy takes one of the cigarettes. 

“Only because she brings you those.” Darcy pinches her nose. “Honestly, you’ve got to break that habit.” She fans the air around her. “I��ll be outside.” Icy can still hear her muttering as the door closes, “some of us actually like breathing.” 

“So what’s your news, Darko?” Icy inquires as she pours herself a second glass of booze. 

He clears his throat and rubs the back of his head. “Well…um…you see…”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all night.” She swirls her drink and listens to the clinking of the ice cubes.

“The Wizards and I won’t be able to tour with you this season.”

Icy pauses with the glass halfway to her lips. “Excuse me?” She asks as she slowly lowers the glass. 

“Duman gave himself polyps. We told him not to be so rough on his vocal cords but he loves doing those screechy kvlt screams and those pig squeals…”

“I don’t care how he damaged his voice!” Icy slaps the table. “I care that he just fucked the rest of us over!”

Darko cringes. “Gantlos already gave him shit for it. Don’t worry. And I’m sure that Ogron and Anagan are hassling him as we speak.” 

Icy rubs her hands over her face. “Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. And on such short notice too; just how do you expect us to find a new opening act a week before we’re set to go on our realm wide tour?”

Darko grimaces. “You’re one of the most intelligent people I know, you’ll…”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of this one, Darko!”

“I didn’t get me into this one!” He insists. “I was one of the main people nagging Duman to take it easy. Shit, it’s not my fault that he didn’t listen. I’m just delivering the news.”

“You’re the band leader.” Icy sneers. “I can keep my idiots in check.”

“Hey!” Stormy shouts from across the room. “I’m gonna tell Darcy that you said that.”

Icy dismisses her with a curt wave. “You should be able to keep your bandmates in line.”

“Well it’s too late now. I was going to help you find a new group to work with, in fact I already had a band in mind. But since you’ve been a überbitch about this whole thing I’m going to text them and tell them that you aren’t interested.”

“Oh, bite my ass, Darko!” Her grip on the glass tightens, she hears the ice crackling out from under her fingers and spreading over the glass.

Darko shrugs. “Look babe, you’re brilliant and sexy…” With a sly smile he adds, “we have a lot of fun together and I’d like to keep that up.” He pauses. “But I’m done being an outlet for whatever the issue of the day is, get yourself together. You’ve really gotta work out whatever is going on here…” he taps his head. “Unless you want a repeat of…”

She throws the glass at him. “Fuck you, Darko.”

He lifts his hands. From her own corner, Stormy winces at the sound of shattering glass. The same sound that lures Darcy back inside.

“Out!” She hisses.

“Icy, I shouldn't have…” he starts. 

“OUT!” She roars.

“I…”

“Come on, Darko.” Darcy takes him by the shoulders. “I’ll text you later, you know how she gets when she drinks.”

Icy rolls her eyes. “I only had a glass and a half.”

“What about before the show?”

“That was hours ago.”

She swears on the names of the ancestral witches that she will throw Darcy out of their band one day. How tired she is of listening to her imply that she has a drinking problem. Oh, Icy has plenty of problems but that isn’t one of them. The only problem that she has right now is that she has to figure out what to do about their lack of an opening act.

.oOo.

He is charming.

He is charismatic. 

Something of a pretty boy. Long blonde hair with pretty pale green eyes that sometimes show blue or gray that are famed by thickly and elegantly applied eyeliner. His cheekbones and jawline are expertly contoured. Kyanite likes to think that the other girls can’t fault her for falling for him. 

He had found her after a show one day. Neither backstage nor on her way to the tour bus. No, he had found her, out of costume and free of glittery makeup and ankle-snapping heels, sitting by a pond. She had been watching the ducks and listening to people as they walked past. 

He had said that he loves her voice and that it is ashame that the fanbase doesn’t pay her more attention. 

Kyanite had insisted that she was fine with that. And that she rather liked it that way. 

Valtor had insisted that she was meant for more. So much more. That he could help her reach her full potential. “You would be a phenomenal solo artist.” He had informed her. “I own my own record company.”

It was those six words that had started her end.

“What about the rest of the girls? We’re a pop group…”

“Artists work on solo projects all the time.” And that is true enough. It is even true that she has seen girl group members work on solo projects while touring with their bandmates. Valtor had promised that he would make it work. 

And so she is here now.

But she is pretty sure that Ruby in particular is angry with her. And Diamond is giving her the silent treatment.

“Don’t worry about them.” Valtor says. “They’re just trying to hold you back.”

“Why would they do that? They’re my friends.”

“Because they’re jealous. That Diamond girl, what’s her real name?”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s Diamond to the world.”

“Well that Diamond girl is jealous of you. She knows that you can sing better than anyone else in…”

“MeTor.” Kyanite fills in.

“She knows that you have the best voice and that’s exactly why she likes you staying in the background. Why do you think that she let you be the band leader?”

“Because I started the band?” Kyanite tilts her head.

Valtor chuckles. “No, no my dear. It is an empty title at best and a pity title at worst.”

“She and the rest of the girls know that I don’t like attention. I’m not…”

Valtor positions his pointer and middle finger under her chin and tilts her head up so that she may stare into those seafoam eyes. “Oh but you are.” He coos. “You are meant to be more than a meteor. You are mean to be a star…a sun! You are a sun.”

“Goldstone is more of a sun. That’s why she’s Goldstone and I’m Kyanite.” 

Valtor shakes his head. “Why do you think so lowly of yourself?”

This isn’t the first time that he has inquired and she has never been able to give him a good answer. Or an answer at all really. Just that she has always thought of herself as inferior. Maybe it is because Diamond is just so gorgeous and elegant and Chalcedony is so pretty and petite. Maybe it is because Topaz has had rock solid abs since they were just middle schoolers. It could be that Topaz has the nicest, most flawless skin that always smells shape and fruity or that Ruby can move her body in the most enticing and exceptional ways. Kyanite could never be that coordinated. 

She can also never look the way that the others do. They are all so slim and athletic, even Chalcedony with her baby face. Kyanite is soft and is often the cause of most of the cuts during their dance practices. But she has her voice, at least according to Valtor. And apparently that is enough to make her his prodigy. 

“We’ll work around your shortcomings.” He had promised. Her shortcomings being the way she dresses in her free time, the way she does her makeup, her weight, and, apparently, the shape of her nose. He loves her hair color, but it could use a different cut.

Today he refuses to acknowledge that she has any shortcomings at all. “I think that you are simply beautiful.” He coos. “You will be my star. And you will be confident.” 

Kyanite doesn’t know which assertion she believes less.

.oOo.

“They are so not for real right now!” Stella bellows. 

“Unfortunately I think that they are.” Bloom frowns. “Sky has to go back to Eraklyon—”

Musa cuts in to grumble, “and Riven is having one of his diva moments.” This coaxes a snorting chuckle from Layla that she tries to stifel behind her hand.

“So it looks like we need to find a new opening act.” Bloom finishes. 

“Well why can’t Brandon, Timmy, Helia, and Nabu perform without them?” Techna asks. “They’re a boy band, we can have all of their instruments pre programmed. I can work a drum machine perfectly well and…”

“We know that, Tech! And we super appreciate the offer…” Musa begins.

“But?”

“But we, us and The Specialists, all want the real deal.” 

“Most other bands have already found their tour buddies for the season though.” Flora points out. 

“We’ll think of something, we always come through.” Bloom promises with a smile. 

“We better!” Stella folds her arms across her chest. “We cannot lose to The Trix! Fairies have been at the time of the music charts for decades, we can’t be the first group to lose that streak. That would totally be so embarrassing!” She sulks into the sofa with a pout. “Witch music is terrible anyways. It’s all dark and you can’t even dance to it.”

“Come on, Stella, don’t be too hard on ‘em. Music is music, they’ve made some bangers.” Musa shrugs. 

“Of course you think so. I don’t know a genre that you don’t like.” Stella sighs. 

“We’ll find another band to tour with.” Bloom reassures. “We won’t let The Trix win.”

[marshvlovestv]

My Favorite NaNo Excerpt, 11/3/23

I almost didn't want to choose this one because it's from a very short one-shot that's almost finished, likely to be posted in full within a few days. But, my own rules say that I have to post my best piece of writing every day and this was my best piece of writing by far.

Fic: Cotton and Thread (Zero Escape)

She smiled as she sat at his bedside. He usually did not let her get this close to him. “Kyle,” she said, holding Lagomorph out in front of her, “do you recognize this?” She held it by the bottom while supporting its drooping head with her other hand, lowering it so it was almost sitting on Kyle’s chest. There was an uncharacteristic twinkle in Kyle’s eye as he regarded Lagomorph. “Is that a child’s toy?” he asked. “I do not recognize it, no, but… he looks well-loved.” He reached out and gingerly grasped one of the rabbit’s ears, the one with cotton coming out of the seams. “Floppy ears and curly whiskers…” Luna didn’t even realize she’d started singing until Kyle’s gaze turned suddenly towards her. A simulated flush came to her skin, knowing she hadn’t been programmed with such a melodious voice. But Kyle was grinning at her. Even during his happiest years, Luna herself had never been the one to bring him such joy. So she continued singing. “Floppy ears and curly whiskers, and he flipped, and he flopped, and the fly flew away.” The tune was that of Battle Hymn of the Republic, which seemed peculiar. But it was the first result when Luna searched her database of nursery rhymes for rabbits. Dr. Klim programmed those rhymes into her as soon as he decided she would be his clone’s mother. She had never gotten any use out of them until now. “Did you used to sing that song to me, Luna?” Everything in the way Kyle spoke suggested he hoped the answer was yes. For the briefest moment, Luna considered lying to him. She had gotten used to it during the Nonary Game. And knowing that the fantasy of having had a happy childhood would not inherently bring Kyle harm.

[bayisdying]

How They Met...Kinda

A/N: Drunk!Lucky is the best and we love her

Tagging my Valentines: @dragon-kazansky @mrsjaderogers @gracespicybradshaw @cycbaby @callmemana @breadsquash @kloofspeaks @notyoursbutlewis @milesdickpic @callsignthirsty @likelyrowdy @askmarinaandothers @starlit-epiphany

-----

Every holiday was a reason for the Chaos Squad to party. Even Valentine's Day. Which is why on Feburary 13th, the Hard Deck was closed to the public, and it was just them.

Fanboy watched as Lucky knocked back quite a bit of alcohol. She had just had another appointment with her OBGYN, but still no good news. He knew she was trying to forget, but he had Spicy bring her waters with every other drink.

"Is she going to be okay?" Whiskey asked.

"She's going to hate herself in the morning."

The night was going well when the topic of Valentines came up for real, everyone discussing their plans. That's when Lucky gets the idea in her hazy mind. Nobody suspects a thing as she gets up from the table. They all figure she's going to pee for the 100th time.

Instead, two seconds later, she is standing on the bartop.

"Lucky, please get down from the bar." Ice said.

"No, I have an idea."

"Oh, this is going to be great." Jake muttered.

"Have you guys ever thought about how amazing it is that we've all met our better halfs?"

"Lucky, honey, please get down from the bar." Ice pleads again.

"Like you! You met Dragon, and you two are amazing together."

Dragon laughs, "thank you sweet girl."

"And I'm sure your first meeting was adorable. In fact, I can picture it now." Lucky gets off the bar, super gracefully by the way, "I can see Ice looking so cool, leaning up against the wall." She leans aganist the bar and puts her aviators on before lowering her voice, "I'm Mr. Ice Cold, No Mistakes."

Ice had been holding in a laugh, but he let it out because, unfortunately, she wasn't wrong.

"Then I can just imagine this gorgeous woman, Dragon, obviously walks by and Mr. Ice over here just melts." She puts her hand over her heart. "That's the girl for me."

"That's pretty accurate to how it happened actually." Slider interjects.

"Thanks, Uncle Sli, and I'm sure it was similar for you and Whiskey. You are just standing there like a Greek God when she rolls up." Lucky says, getting a laugh out of the couple.

"Oh Mickey, come up here and help me."

He groaned but got up anyway, not knowing what to expect.

"Okay, so pretend Mickey is Slider, I know he's too short, but bear with me."

"Wow, so sweet of you."

"Shut up and be a himbo.".

Mickey just stood there, and Baylie huffed but got back into character as Whiskey.

"Heyyyy Slider."

"Hi Jade." Mickey playing along.

"You know you're like really cute." Lucky says twirling her hair. "and I'm like super into cute men with no brains."

Mickey breaks character to laugh at the way she's trying so hard, and he's not the only one.

"Hey, I have some brains!" Slider says, feigning hurt.

"Shut up, Ron. I'm enjoying the show." Whiskey said, patting his thigh.

"I'm just saying you guys met at Top Gun, and that's so cute!" Lucky says. "I'm sure you two big men saw two gorgeous women who were mean to you and fell in love."

She turned to Goose and Scarlet, who were both laughing so hard that they had turned matching shades of...scarlet...

"Then you two!"

"Oh no." Scarlet hid her face in her hands.

"I can picture it, Goose at the piano playing some old ass song." She paused, and the group watched as an idea washed over her leading to a devilish grin. "Kind of like this." She says as she walks over to the piano.

"Does she know how to play the piano?" Spicy asked.

Mickey shakes his head.

"Someone should be recording this." Jake says, "this is the best thing ever."

Lucky hits a few random keys, making everyone wince. "You shake my nerves, and rattle my brains." She sings, her voice not bad but definitely off beat.

"So he's sitting there playing this stupid song, and this gorgeous redhead walks in and sees this tall drink of water sitting on the bench."

"Ew." Rooster whispers.

"Grow up Rooster, anyways knowing Goose he probably tells her to take a seat in his lap and despite not knowing him she takes the invitation. He serenades her with old songs all night long, and from that night forward they were in love."

Scarlet wipes an actual tear from her eye.

"Then a few years later, they had a son and named him Bradley even though Dumbass was more appropriate."

"Hey!"

"She's not wrong." Spicy playfully elbows Rooster in the ribs.

"And that dumbass found his perfect person much in the same way as his parents. In this very bar. Penny hired this gorgeous woman and she was behind the bar." For added effect Lucky jumped over the bar, Ice damn near chokes on his drink with worry.

"So imagine Spicy behind the bar, learning from the amazing queen herself, Penny. And this tall, porn stached, idiot walks in with that walk. Y'all know that walk. She looks up, completely ignoring her new bff trying to get a refill on her jack and coke." Lucky pouts. "And in that moment, I lost my wife to the biggest dumbass I know besides Jake."

"Bay, it wasn't that dramatic."

"We could have been so good together Spicy but nooooooo."

"Cariño, we'd already been together for years."

"This isn't about you Mickey."

Mickey just nods, knowing better than to argue with his wife.

"And then, then my other wife finds us and drops us for Jake. Like come on Spicy and I are both much hotter than Jake Seresin."

Cin snorted, "yes honey."

"Um excuse you?" Jake asked.

"Shut up Jake, and let me finish." Lucky said and despite wanting to fight Jake obeys. "so anyways, Jake takes one look at my gorgeous bestie and decides to stop being a man whore and nail Cin down. And somehow she looked at his big head and said yes."

"I don't have a big head." Jake pouted.

Lucky looks around, "I guess that's it really. We know how Maverick and Penny got together after like a billion years. And I still don't know how Cyclone got a hot ass bitch like Venom."

The group laughs as Fanboy helps Lucky back to her seat.

"You're forgetting someone Lucky." Whiskey points out.

Lucky looks around confused, "no I didnt."

"Honey, you forgot you and Mickey." Spicy points out.

"Oh we fucked in the closet of the cottage before it was mine." Lucky blurts out and most of the group laugh at her bluntness. Rooster and Ice look less than thrilled to know this information.

"Cariño that's not how we met." Fanboy points out.

Lucky looked him right in the eyes, "no but its when I realized I was totally, completely in love with you and I stopped fighting it."

Mickey smiles at her like they are the only two in the room.

"I'm going to vomit." Rooster says matter-of-factly before getting up from the table and heading to the kitchen, followed by his father and Jake.

Penny, Cin, and Spicy start clearing the tables. Usually Lucky would help, but after her big show she was laying her head on Fanboy's shoulder. She tries to reach for his Bud Light but he pushes it away.

"Mickeyyyy." She pouts.

"Oh, you're cut off, big time child." Ice says taking the bottle away from both of them.

"That's so mean."

"You'll get over it."

"Okie dokie."

Mickey shakes his head, but picks up his wife bridal style.

"Let's get you home Bay."

"I love you Garcia."

"I love you more."

[zorkaya-moved]

zarina as ur gf: - tol / athletic gf, hides her athletic nature but hey she dances prettily - will work out with u if ur game - will play 5D chess games w/ u if ur game - schemer and manipulator to others, but she's nice to you (will bulli out of love if u are easily embarrassed) - actually a bookworm and is usually quiet when working - will finish her work faster if you tell you want to go somewhere but will say that she has to finish everything prior to going out spontaneously - will be a tease because ur her lover and she wants to tease - won't be jelly because she's too confident in herself and ur relationship, but will be territorial and will make others envious tho - moral compass is a wheel of fortune every day - neutral evil through and through - booba is soft but cold, best pillow to lay on - has a voice of an angel, will sing u songs and play the guitar/piano if u ask - apathetic and fake to everyone aside from select few ppl, ur friends and family aren't safe if she doesn't choose to care for them herself - will eradicate world for you, will bring the world to you on a silver plate, will destroy everything if it means saving you - will always do everything to come back to you - will also absolutely break your bones (/srs) if you try to sacrifice yourself for the greater good or to try and save her; the world means nothing without u in it as they say - hedonistic tendencies very high - will hold herself back if ur sex drive is lower than hers, will never push anything on u and will always prioritize ur safety, comfort, and happiness - great cook - probably wants to marry u like a year into the relationship if not earlier because she only falls once and will never fall in love with a different person again - can and will become toxic if you do not challenge her / stand your ground and if you let her do anything herself and move u forward aka u fully leaning/depending on her

[quinnverse]

“Me?! You’re the one that suggested that stupid game in the first place! And you, might I add, were also the one to suggest kissing as the stakes. So, do not stand there and blame me for your ideas." She felt her face grow redder with anger as she spat out her defenses. She would've had a pleasant night alone if he hadn't wandered into the room with her, taunting her with his offers. Emma would've stuck to default disrobing, far apart from one another if he hadn't suggested kissing him instead. She nearly shook with ire. Each time she thought she might begin to tolerate him, he opened his mouth-- or pressed it to hers. "In case you’re still confused, then, you do not have any claim to me."

"The only shame I feel is having trusted you to be a lady." His words stung, but not in the way Emma expected. She ought to be happy that he seemed disgusted by her actions. It would only help to prove her unsuitable for marriage, and yet she couldn't ignore the needling sense of guilt in her stomach.

“I never claimed to be a lady." She volleyed with gritted teeth. "And if you’re so offended by my actions now, you’ll be awfully upset to learn how I’ll behave as a wife. And you have still yet to explain what kind of woman you think me to be. Because, perhaps, you do not care to admit that you don't know me as much as you think you do."

He surged on and the fire inside her doubled, nearly singeing her insides with it's flaring intensity.

“I do not want him to choose me over you! Again, not everything is a competition, you dense, fatheaded man-child! The only thing I want is for you to disappear from my life already. To leave me and my father alone." Emma stepped closer, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. She was holding herself back, using all the strength she had left to not scream and claw her way to victory. But when he stooped lower, bringing out another level of vulgarity, she snapped.

“My used—?” Without thinking, she let her hand fly to his face. The sound of her leather riding glove collided with skin made even herself wince but she stood firm. If there was ever a moment of him deserving a strike to the face, she believed this was it. “How dare you, you bloody tuft-hunter. I take back what I said about you being a pig. Pigs are far too civilized to be compared to you.”

Emma wasn't a violent person, but it would be nearly impossible to guess such a thing from the way she behaved around John Bolton. She was a fiery redhead with a temper, that much she knew, but she rarely raised a hand to anyone. But in the time she'd known him, she'd smacked him twice and thought about doing so far more.

“I... believe that makes us even now.” There was a tremor to her voice and her tone was more apologetic than she expected, as though her words were a convoluted substitute for ‘I’m sorry’.

“At the expense of your best friend." She echoed his words, letting a sour laugh fill the air. "Gods, you are a piece of work, aren’t you? Tell me, then, if you think him marrying me is a bad idea, then why in God's name would you think it would be any different if I were marrying you? Are you truly so invested in these damned business endeavors of yours that you would submit everyone to a miserable and unhappy life?"

Taking a step away from him, Emma's irate façade faltered for a moment, revealing a more scared and desperate side of her. "Have you even thought about that? About what if, God forbid, something happens to the company, if we lose all stock and all authority or go bankrupt? At the end of the day you would still be married to me. Is this foolish business excursion of yours truly worth an eternity shackled to someone you despise and who despises you in return?”

The first cuffs against his chest, shoulder and face caught Benjamin unawares. Lifting his arms, he was quick to deflect Emma's irate blows, her growls akin to a trapped animal as she bit out her fierce warning.

“What is wrong with you?" she hissed. "Jesus H. Christ, do you have no shame?”

Face stinging with both embarrassment and the clip from her earlier strike, Benjamin fired back, "I could ask you the same question. As you'll recall, the only reason we have been remotely intimate is because of you. Am I suddenly wrong in thinking I have a claim?"

He knew he didn't. As a gentleman, just pretending to mean those words coiled sickeningly within his gut, weighing low and heavy as he swallowed. Never one to back down from a ruse, he continued, "The only shame I feel is having trusted you to be a lady. Throwing yourself at my associate -- to what, make me jealous? -- proves your precise caliber, and I'll have no part in this."

Just as he anticipated, Emma bristled like a furious feline. “I can pursue whoever I damn well please. You're not my father and you're certainly not my husband. So, if Mister Finnegan likes me, I don’t need your permission to reciprocate his affections."

"No, you don't," Benjamin crisply agreed, "but Finnegan is one of my oldest and dearest friends, and thus, he would never choose you over me. I'm afraid brotherhood extends far beyond the allure of getting inside your used mutton. And that goes for both Finnegan and myself."

His words were a cruelty. Benjamin wasn't certain if he genuinely believed Emma to be morally loose, but in this moment he was tired of putting up with her theatrics -- he was tired of searching for intelligence, and only encountering the bare minimum because of her damnable interference.

Emma, unfortunately, was far from through with her diatribe. She sniped and attacked for all she was worth, relying heavily upon blaspheming swears before she ultimately volleyed, “Or do you merely mean to stick your nose into this because you’re upset it isn’t you I’m flirting with?"

"I don't give a damn who you flirt with," Benjamin hissed. "But when it is at the expense of my best friend, that is an entirely different matter! You flatter yourself if you think I care for you beyond our business transaction."

Emma balled her hand into a fist. “Our agreement was that you behave yourself. That very same agreement is the only thing stopping me from giving you a matching bruise on the other side of your stupid face. Either follow the rules of the game, or the deal is forfeit.”

Benjamin's jaw tightened. "Hit me then," he challenged. "If only I must behave myself in these terms, then I think it only suitable that you show the world precisely who you are."

Finally at her wits end, Emma rose her voice to a clanging decibel, shouting about Caleb being the superior match, and how she would gladly consider marriage, should he propose.

“I might remind you that I gave you the chance to act upon your carnal desires, but you refused. You had the chance to kiss me, touch me, ravish me, and whatever else you please, but you thought your hand far more suitable for the job, so you don’t get to choose me now that your britches have grown too tight."

Benjamin balked at that, visibly stunned. This woman was confounding. She denounced him, insulted him, and in some cases, maimed him, yet willingly threw open the doors to her boudoir?

Mouth opening and closing, he tried to speak, but Emma was already charging toward the door. "I urge you to behave yourself, or I will match your immaturity. And I will do it far better than you."

"I'd say you already have," he gruffly bit back. "You are no lady, Miss Dunster. None at all."

[stargazer-balladeer]

Random Imagines [Genshin Impact - girls]

[ boy edition ]

- qiqi’s, klee’s & diona’s are all platonic

nervously shifting her legs on the ground, amber shyly presents you a plushie version of yourself that looks similar to the design of baron bunny. she bit her lower lip in pure nervousness as she imagines worst-case scenarios if you didn’t like it. gulping mentally, she nervously smiles as she takes a peek of your expression before looking down again. “happy anniversary.” she quietly said, hoping to herself that you’ll like the gift and that her mind finally calms down.

ayaka smiles as she takes a sip of her tea right outside her house with her beloved by her side, the sakura tree’s petals fluttering around them wonderfully, making the atmosphere more romantic. it's been a while since she last spent her time with you, so she makes sure that it’s spent with zero interruptions. turning to you as she started the conversation with a sweet, serene smile on her face. listening to you starting to ramble on about a topic that interests you, with a look of admiration present in her face.

feeling thankful that you saved her from the crowd of fans, barbara guided you to a secluded area where she often visited to have peace and quiet. she lets you rest your head on her lap as she softly hums a tune, which slowly switches to an actual song. a concert exclusively for her biggest fan with no worries of being judged. smiling if you join in on her singing, even if your voice isn’t as good as hers, she considers your voice divine like the anemo archon.

laughing lightly as she noticed her significant other getting tipsy after drinking a bottle, beidou stood up and announced that she and her lover would be going back to the quarters early. as the celebration continued behind her, she carefully picked you up bridal style and brought you to her quarters. her eyes widened when you started to ramble how much you love her before letting out a small smile and ruffling your hair, minding her own flushed cheeks. 

diona hisses at the stranger who was obviously taking advantage of your kindness while screaming how disgraceful they are for trying to use you. wanting to teach them a lesson, she takes a step forward but you stopped her with a reassuring smile. huffing but obliging to your wishes, she only glared at the stranger, mentally memorizing their faces so that when they visit the bar, she would ask the traveler to mix up a horrible drink. after all, no one messes with you and gets away from it. 

her eyes widened as she saw how you got hit from the active ruin guard, with eyes full of vengeance, eula gracefully yet deadly strike it on the core, effectively making it inactive once more. quickly rushing to your side as she eyed the obvious injury that the ruin guard caused, she cursed to herself for letting it happen. she quickly tended your wounds as she said her usual line of vengeance will be mine while coaxing you to not fall asleep. 

fischl excitedly retells the stories she loved to you while being held by you in the bed after a tough day full of commissions. her prinzessin persona dropped completely as she started from the very beginning while playing with your hands. a soft smile present on her face, happy to share something she loved to you, her significant other. 

embarrassed at your request, ganyu shyly looks away while looking down, fully presenting you her horns. a pink dust appeared on her cheeks when she felt your hand softly yet carefully trace the design of her horns. the warmth of your hands against her horns made her at peace as the initial embarrassment went away, replacing it with comfort and tranquility.

smiling mischievously as her eyes landed on your unsuspecting figure, hu tao carefully and quietly navigate herself to you. she tries to conceal her excited giggles behind her hand as she crept up behind you. she stayed there for a while before quickly wrapping her hands around your waist and shouting “boo!” in your ear while giggling madly.

waking up at the sound of the birds chirping, jean slowly opens her eyes as she yawns. she blinked a couple of times to get the sleepiness out, once her vision was clear, her eyes quickly landed on your still-sleeping figure. she smiles as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, softly calling your name in hopes to wake you up. hearing you groan in protest, she pressed a quick kiss on your lips, promising to give you more if you wake up right now.

keqing huffing as she loudly makes her side of the argument, her face almost turning red due to the anger she’s feeling. she knew she was right, so why were you insisting you were the one right and she was in the wrong? not wanting to back out from the argument, she accidentally says something she regrets. after the adrenaline of the argument evaporates from her veins, she quickly realizes what she said as she quickly pulls you into a hug while quietly apologizing.

whilst keeping her company while in solitary confinement, klee happily hums a tune she heard from barbara as she draws on a piece of paper you gave her along with some crayons. patting her head while she does her task, she looks up to you expectantly with her huge doe eyes, showing you what she drew. guessing from the color schemes of the two figures, you figured it was you and klee. happily praising her with her drawing, she excitedly grins at you. 

the fatui agent screamed in terror as a cryo attack hit him, hitting him square on the chest. shouting profanities, he looks at who attacked him to give them a piece of his mind only to fear his own life. standing right behind you, in all her glory, was la signora, otherwise known as your lover. she clicks her tongue, staring at the agent with judgement, before turning her attention to you. cooing sweetly at you as she checks for any possible injuries before telling you to stay in her quarters as she deals with a pest. 

lisa blinkes in surprise at the scenery before her, the library now deserted from people is decorated with a festive decoration. the table she used to have her tea time with is filled with food, from cakes to cookies, it even has her favorite tea among it. the scent of her favorite filled her nostrils as her eyes landed back on your figure, who was fidgeting from nervousness. laughing softly when asked if she likes it, she coos at you and brings you into a hug. you really are adorable, too much for her heart. 

her eyes widened when the door leading to her room opened, lumine looked up to see you in the doorway, the light from the outside pouring in the dark room. she looks away while blinking away the tears gathered in her eyes, why did you have to see her like this? hearing the soft thud of a closing door, she felt the bed shifted and warm arms wrapping around her. your hot breath in her eyes as you whisper comforting words in her ears. deciding to finally drop her guard down, she clings to you and starts bawling. why did her brother leave her once again?

surprised at your question of your future, mona coughs in her fist as she decides to fulfill your curiosity, also with a promise of giving her mora even though she declined it at first. she let the chart of the astrology signs appear before her and started doing her fortune-telling stuff. seeing her nod as she stares at the constellation of what appears to be yours, you noticed that her face bursted into red. worried for her, you asked her what’s wrong and she could barely put out a coherent word from her mouth. she huffed as she looks away, hiding you from her view via her hat, her mind racing at the image of you settling down with her. 

ningguang confronts you one day about your distant behavior with her, her eyes scanning your body, picking up your nervous tics along the way. she tilts her head as she looks at you with expecting eyes, even though her face remains stoic, her eyes are practically pleading for you to tell her what happened, did she do something wrong? sighing at your explanation, she stood up from her chair and made her way to you. pulling you into a chaste kiss, she smiled at you, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

gently waking you up from your nap, the face of a worried noelle appeared after you opened your eyes. smiling gently at you while stating that she finished preparing the soup and medicine and it’s time to eat. she frowned when you told her you don’t want to eat, to which she responded “you won’t get better if you won’t.” deciding the best option is to feed you, she scoop up a spoonful of soup and encourage you softly to open your mouth. her eyes lit up when you complied with her wish. after feeding you and making you drink the medicine, she changed your wet towel on your head and gave it a kiss, hoping to barbatos that you’ll get better soon. 

qiqi looks up at you expectantly while raising her arms up, asking for you to carry her. because you can’t physically or mentally decline a sweet child like her, you lifted her up like she wanted and adjusted your hold on her so that she wouldn't fall off. wrapping her arms around you and smiling happily, you continued to traverse liyue harbor while carrying her.

watching you in amusement as you struggled to try to get a kiss from her, rosaria chuckled when even if you were standing on your toes, you still couldn’t reach her. seeing you pout at her, she gave your cheek a pinch while cooing at you. after having a deal with you, a kiss in exchange for a wine in the tavern, she gave you your desired kiss after rolling her eyes at your expecting face.  

while looking through her notes, sucrose heard you hum while doing your daily house chores. looking up to peek at where you stood, washing the dishes while swaying slightly and humming a tune. she smiles as her focus soon shifts to listening to you humming instead of focusing on her notes. noticing that the shy girl was looking at you, the said-girl let out a tiny shriek and quickly looked down to her notes. chuckling at her adorable action, you continued to wash the dishes as she went back to her notes. 

xiangling blushed profusely at the sight of you holding out a bouquet of flowers with a bag of jueyun chili on your other hand. she covered her face with her hands, incoherent words leaving her mouth as she tried to process what she’s seeing. you must’ve flustered her too much. chuckling at her reaction, you set down the bag and the bouquet at a table and wrapped your arms around her, patting her head to calm her down. 

excitedly yet nervously strumming her guitar in front of you, xinyan took a deep breath before starting to strum her guitar for real and began singing her heart out. she hopes you’ll like the song she composed, exclusively for you. the one and only fan she has that endlessly supported her through her rockstar career. she smiles at you brightly as she continues to sing, bobbing her head up and down. this is who she is, and she’s glad she found someone like you. 

feeling someone’s disappointing gaze on you, you look up to meet yanfei’s gaze with a frown plastered on her face. drunkenly greeting her, she shakes her head as she exclaimed she’ll be bringing you home now. it was a bit difficult as you kept wanting to wander off but she somehow managed to bring you home in one piece. plopping you down on your couch, she sighs as she mumbles that she became your babysitter and quickly fetches you some water. after some difficult time once again to make you drink water and the ending being successful, she stares at your sleeping face before letting out a sigh once again. why do you keep choosing someone else when she was right here by your side the entire time? 

[shibaraki]

Kenma releases a long dramatic sigh as he kicks a small rock by his shoe across the pavement. He wanted to be back in his gaming room with his blackout curtains closed and his headphones on.

But you’d let yourself into his house, he knew he’d regret giving you a key, and insisted that you go for a walk together.

“I can hear you huffing and puffing back there,” you sing over your shoulder with a roll of your eyes, amused by his laziness.

“That’s the point,” he grumbles, “where are we even going?”

“There’s a sweet little park near your house, bet you didn’t even know since you never go outside—”

“Yeah yeah,” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand, pouting because you were right. He had moved here two months ago and still hadn’t explored his new neighbourhood, too intimidated to do so. It was daunting being so far from everything he knew, not having you or Kuroo nearby anymore. But he loved the house and couldn’t bring himself to regret buying it.

It was outside of the city and there was considerable space between each of the neighbours, as is typical in wealthier areas. He hadn’t met any of them though, they were much less personable than his childhood neighbours who had immediately brought his mother hot food the day they moved in.

Admittedly it was lonely for Kenma, what with his two best friends having ‘regular jobs’ while his required him to sit at his gaming PC all day, your schedules no longer lined up.

Deep down he was grateful that you were so persistent, inserting yourself into his life like this.

You slow down and silently fall in step with him, both of your arms lightly swinging together. Every so often your fingers brush together and Kenma swallows thickly, looking in any direction but the one you were in.

All he had to do was stretch out his fingers and he would slot in the spaces between yours easily. You would probably let him and he could play it off as platonic, but he didn’t want to.

He wanted to hold your hand because you were his and his alone and because you wanted him to. So he does nothing.

Kenma is observant. He was observant on the court and still is off the court, he could tell a players next move in game and in person, he could pick up the inflections in their voice and judge where they were at mentally.

But he fell flat when it came to understanding you.

You cared about him immensely, he knew that much. But you were loving to everyone in your life, indiscriminately, and it was hard to tell if your actions were romantic.

Kuroo called him an idiot and said he was making excuses, but you truly were precious to him. This wasn’t something he was willing to play with.

The ball was, ironically, in your court.

He startles when you gasp and grab his wrist, pointing toward a wet desolate alleyway. Dragging him along you jog over to a large torn cardboard box that was now sodden from rainfall. He’s about to ask what on earth you were doing when he hears it.

A small, broken meow.

He crouches down quickly, eyes wide and searching. You stand behind him with a fond smirk, refraining from commenting about how fast he can move when it’s something he actually cares about.

From behind the box pops out a dainty kitten, charcoal in colour with bright yellow eyes. Her furr is wet and matted around her tail, paws decorated with dirt.

He is totally endeared by her, and you by him. He steadily holds his hands out in front of her and lets her cautiously sniff the tips of his fingers before she begins desperately rubbing herself against him.

“Can we keep her?” he breathes in awe. Your heart thrums happily at his use of ‘we’, and you lower yourself next to him. She nudges up against the toe of your shoe.

“Yeah, we can,” you grin, running a hand down her back. She’s small enough to fit in your palm.

“I have an idea, turn your jumper so the hood is on your chest,” you instruct as you scoop the little lady up. Kenma does so without question and smiles gleefully when you place the kitten into his hoodie.

“We’ll carry her back like this, so she’s comfortable and warm”.

Simultaneously you get to your feet, Kenmas eyes still on the bundle tucked in his front. His pupils are wide and his cheeks are pink with joy, you almost expect him to start purring himself.

Biting your bottom lip between your teeth you take the leap and slide your palm against his, curling your fingers over his knuckles. “I’ll hold your hand on the way back so you can keep an eye on her,” you stutter sheepishly. He searches your expression for something and must find it, as he strokes the back of your hand with him thumb.

“Ok,” he murmurs.

As you begin walking back to the house you remain close to his side, occasionally tightening your grip so you can see him tuck his chin to his chest bashfully.

“Aren’t you glad I got you out of bed?”

“Shut up”.

[tanoraqui]

Something something two weapons raised for war, though only one of them was bred for it in darkness. Something something he cannot look away so instead he looks closer, and sees that she is as lonely as he—maybe lonelier, for he at least has known love, and she never has. Something something cat and mouse, bird and flitting, stinging, stubborn insect, both flying through the woods that never grow light anymore because she brings the darkness with her—and beyond, as she finally chases him away from his home, easing those supply lines as her mother-maker bade but still never quite catching him, because he’s clever and strong-willed and…she doesn’t want to.

She’s having fun. She’s allowed to play with her prey, isn’t she? And she’s never had prey quite like this before—relentlessly determined, footsteps moving in time to the deep rhythm of the woods like he can hear it even through his mortality, tackling her bodily when he can flee no more and they roll together in the war-torn field, her on top then him, then her again. Yet as she croons that he will not escape again—he will not, especially not with her crooning; she knows the look in his eyes, knows a soul caught in her talons—he looks up past her twilit eyes which she has watched men and elves alike drown in, and reaches up to touch something in her hair, and says in a tone of some surprise, “Tinúviel Lúthien.”

She follows his hand with her own and plucks out a flower, like one she has glimpsed in his dreams. She has seen flowers elsewhere, of course—though not so many, because she is a creature of blackened forests, born in the black underground. There are flowers in this field, paltry and pale from the dragonfire and orc-boots that still sweep over it sometimes. They are lit by weak but warm sunlight, for the two of them have chased far south enough to find springtime.

The enraptured look in his eyes isn’t quite like the one she’s used to seeing.

It is there that the High King of the Elves finds them—because Fingon got word that the Nightingale was lingering in lands that were still, nominally, under his watch, so of course he rode out himself. [please assume, correctly, that I’ve played out a whooole au Of Beleriand and Its Realms & domino effects of Dagor Bragollach.] Not immediately, mind you—Beren and Lúthien, with her new epessë, just…stayed in the area for a while. Slowed their mutual hunt.

Lúthien doesn’t notice, because she is not in her heart a woodswoman. Beren does, and yanks her out of the way of an arrow.

Something something fight scene! Partly bows & swords vs 1 sword & a nightmare woman with claws and fangs, partly three dozen people in a very tight round vs 1 increasingly pissed-off soloist—and Beren, who is shouting at everyone to lay down their arms and lower their voices.

Beren trying frantically to stop both sides, Lúthien whom he loves and whom he’s almost entirely sure isn’t really evil (just raised that way), and the elf-king whom he’s never met but he does know sigils and stories, and he knows an ally when he sees one. Lúthien would normally either start Singing her best mass enchantment, to trick them into slaying one another because of illusions if not for love of her—or, okay, against a foe like this maybe Sing just enough to slow them, then shift her hair-cloak into wings and flee—but she can’t carry Beren and evade arrows, and she’s not leaving him! And he keeps shouting at her not to kill his allies, and he really cares about that, so she’s trying—but when people are already so violently biased against her, it’s HARD to peacefully charm them.

Fingon & co are sympathetic to this obviously deeply enchanted man but aren’t going to let him stop them from slaying his would-be mistress, who has for centuries been picking off people who wander alone, sometimes even behind the Siege-line.

Everyone pauses when Lúthien actually throws herself onto a sword, which otherwise would’ve gone into Beren’s side (as he tried to shield her). She stops Singing and just screeches at the elves not to hurt him, can’t they see that he’s on their side? Someone sensible grabs Beren and puts a knife to his neck, as that seems to slow her, while he begs much the same on her behalf.

Lúthien Tinúviel stands circled by ready arrows on taut strings, and a quiet but steady defensive chorus. She has no arms to lay down, but she is quiet, clawed hands open at her sides. Fingon approaches alone, with sword raised but not outstretched, and demands to know what she is doing in his lands.

"I am here for Beren, son of Barahir," she says, raising her head with pride and to point her chin at where Beren stands behind the king, held by two of his warriors.

"Beren son of Barahir would be my cousin's liegeman, and so mine as well, if he lived." Fingon doesn't look back to confirm the identity, doesn't take his battle-ready sight from the monster before him. "You shall not have him, for your own cruel sport nor your master's."

"I want him for neither!" Lúthien cries. "I- I wish him to wed, to be mine forever!"

(She understands a little of marriage, between both elves and men, and even orcs, dwarves, wolves and other creatures. Melian, who likes Tinúviel to call her "mother", made a great study of it in the thralls of Angband.) (This may have slightly skewed her understanding about reasonable amounts of posessiveness involved, but whatever.)

She adds, quite politely, determined to get this right, "If thou his liegelord stands as his father, I shall ask thee permission. May we?"

Fingon laughs, and such is his temperament that it is more gay than mocking (though definitely still also mocking).

"Sure!" he says. "Just bring me a Silmaril in hand, and thou may have his for all time! Bring two, and thou canst have both!"

(And the tides moved between sea and land, and the Sun and Moon and stars danced around the plate of Arda, and the Great Music played on...)

"I shall," said Lúthien, who was Maia enough to know a legend when she was suddenly part of one—and in a split second, dark wings grew from her shoulders and she leapt into the sky, content that she left Beren in safety while she went to complete a given quest.

Shouts of alarm and many arrows followed her. She evaded them all, rising—and dove again as Beren broke away from his startled captors and ran after her, calling, "Lúthien, Lúthien!"

He couldn't catch her, of course. He didn't try. He only pulled the single ring from his finger, emerald and gold flashing in the sunlight, and threw it, and swooping she caught it—and sped upward again, out of bowshot in an instant.

swap which key First Age Maia is evil and you get Beren & Lúthien enemies to lovers au 👀

[pxnk-velvet]

Heyoo.... So Kakashi x Dom reader, they're already in a relationship, she think of something new to do tonight, she just makes him lay down and takes the reigns, but instead of being rough or kinky she surprises him by being very very soft, a lot of care and body worshipping and loving words and actions, she doesn't let him do anything, he just has to lay down, relax and let her baby him and worship him

𝐻𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝐵𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑑𝑎𝑦 [NSFW!]

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜

𝐾𝑎𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝐻𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑥 ���𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

✧ word count :: 1.7k

✧ summary :: Despite her usual approach to things in bed with Kakashi, Y/n was going to make sure Kakashi felt loved on his birthday one way or another.

✧ warnings :: nsfw!, fluff, established relationship, implied dom reader, oral (m!receiving), body worship, praise, intended for mature readers only! reblogs are appreciated <3

✧ a/n :: this is the first time I’ve written anything spicy in forever and I’m only doing this bc it was our husbands birthday a few weeks ago soooo and ik this is like super late but idc I’m just happy I was finally able to finish a piece ok? Let me live 🖐🏼😤

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜

He’s so pretty…

That was the only thing on Y/n’s mind as she stood with Kakashi in her arms. The two of them were standing in front of the mirror that was near the foot of their bed. Simply soaking in each other’s presence and enjoying the company. 

She peered at him from over his shoulder, her chin perched on his shoulder as she admired the godly man in her grasp. 

Her eyes tracing every single curve and dip present on his body. Warmly gazing over every scar, scratch, or imperfection that was embedded onto him. Her hands glazed over his sides and core as they settled near his abdomen. Fingertips pressing into the soft skin that shielded strong muscle underneath. Her lips were gentle against his shoulder blades as she littered kisses across his back.

It was moments of appreciation like this that made Y/n truly wonder how she had managed to find a man like Kakashi. Of course he came with his faults, but everyone does. And she never let that get in the way of her love for. 

“Happy birthday.” She hummed sweetly against his skin, a smile occupying her eyes as for her lips were busy pressed against his skin.

Kakashi returned one, butterflies erupting in Y/n’s stomach when she saw it. 

That. His smile was one of the prettiest things she’d ever encountered in all her years. She did everything in her power to keep it gentle and bright. Even if he wore his mask nearly all day, she can only hope it never dims underneath.

All day her chest had been blossoming with love, seeing Kakashi smile so much today. Receiving gifts from friends and comrades. Yet she knew it wasn't just the gifts themselves but the acknowledgment and appreciation these people had for him. She believed he deserved it all with every fiber of her being. And yet she had no idea how to show him just that. That was until they had made it home.

Now clad in simple house clothes, they had spent the rest of the day enjoying each other. Y/n had cooked Kakashi his favorite meal for dinner and surprised him with a little homemade cake. Emphasizing the little, simply because she knew he wasn’t one for sweets, so it was really just a simple serving for herself that Kakashi insisted he feed to her himself. Only to smear frosting across her face and pull her in for a kiss, claiming that she had a little frosting on her lips. 

Her kisses still tasted sweet with the frosting as Kakashi turned to face her, his back to the mirror. Now pulling her into his arms and draping them around Y/n’s waist, resting his hands against her lower back.

With sparkling eyes, ones Kakashi could get lost in forever, Y/n looked up at him, musing, “I love you,” placing a quick kiss to his lips. Not giving him a chance to respond before she kisses him again, singing another “I love you,” then repeating the process over and over again. Littering kisses all over his face, jaw, and neck. 

Y/n was quick to maneuver Kakashi so he was laying on the edge of the bed, her hips settled suggestively over his. An obviously give away as to what she had instore for the birthday boy.

Y/n’s kisses never seized fire, every single one was light yet held so much passion. Creating a constellation of love across his skin. Sending electricity to both his heart and the deep pit in his stomach. 

The only time her kissing stopped was when she sat up straight, placing her palms against his chest. Fingertips gentle gliding against the light dusting of gray hair. Her lips stretched with a sweet smile, eyes warm as she spoke, “Did you know that I love you?” Her voice was smooth like honey, as it invaded Kakashi’s senses. 

His body felt like it was floating. His cheeks were covered in a warm flush that grew even hotter whenever she moved above him. Even just the slightest drag of her pelvis seemed to cause his senses to go haywire. The way her gaze soaked up every single minuscule reaction wasn’t helping either. 

The intimate moments they shared together were often like this. Kakashi allowing Y/n to do as she pleases for her own pleasure, which only fueled his own. 

Kakashi swallowed the dryness in his throat, replying to her question with a slight giggle, “Yes, Y/n. You’ve mentioned that already.”

Her smile grew even more, glowing like a light above, “I know but I just want to make sure. I love you. Everything about you,” She sang sweetly, placing a kiss at the base of his throat.

“Your perfections,” a kiss now placed to his collarbone, Y/n nipping the skin. Making Kakashi jump slightly, to which she giggled while continuing her ministrations down his front. 

“Your imperfections, your eyes, your hair, your body…” She dragged, bringing her tongue to slowly trace previous kisses up to his navel and back down, “Your muscles,” Again, Kakashi’s skin jumped when her hands crawled up his abdomen, relishing in the way the muscles went taunt under her touch. 

“But most of all,” She slowly sat up, Kakashi groaning at the loss of the warmth of her lips against his skin, “Your mind,” Y/n’s hands came down to toy with the hem of his pants. Her fingers teasing the edges, slipping beneath, only to retract when his breath grew heavy. 

“Your heart,” Y/n whispered only loud enough for the two of them to hear. Regardless of the fact if they were the only ones in the room. She wanted those words to only fall upon his ears. He was the most deserving after all. 

One of her hands came to cup the tent that had stood mighty before her, squeezing gently, feeling the way his blood pulsed violently through his veins. 

The way he gripped the sheets beneath his fists as a groan fell from behind his grit teeth, caused the fire in the pit of Y/n’s stomach to ignite, sending electricity through her body. 

“Kakashi,” She called, the only thing present on her face was love and sincerity, “I love you with every fiber of my being,” Her hands came to grip the fabric of his pants, “and I’m going to make sure you know that tonight.”

His pants were gone soon after, Y/n getting off only to undress Kakashi and herself, only to resume the same position. Only now there was no restriction between them, now purely skin to skin. Each drunk off of each other and the effects shared between them. 

Kakashi could’ve sworn he was in paradise. The image before him was one he had seen time and time again but always took his breath away. Watching Y/n lean down, taking his cock into her hand, looking up at him with big eyes. He sighed loudly, throwing his head back against the bed, hands gripping the bed sheets underneath. 

“Fuck...Y/n,” A wave of hot electricity washed over Kakashi as Y/n took him into her mouth. Her tongue working the underside of his length, her right hand still gripping whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 

Kakashi’s hips jerked every time his head would brush against the back of her throat. Which in turn caused the heat between her legs to grow hotter and heavier. Once she had been able to work her mouth all the way down the length of his cock, her nose pressed gently against his pelvis. Brushing against the dusting of dark gray hair at the base of his length.

His hand found refuge at the crown of her head, “Just like that...yes,” He groaned deeply, Kakashi could’ve sworn he was seeing stars at this point. 

One of the things about Y/n that never failed to amaze him was the way she knew how to work his body. In ways that he wasn’t aware of until she became a part of his sexual life. 

Y/n continued on, pulling back to catch her breath real quick before diving back in. Her lips warm and wet against his shaft, tongue occasionally toying with the head of his cock. All the while she had snuck her own hand between her legs, in hopes of relieving the tension that had grown in her core. The moans that rumbled in her throat, her own fingers slowly circling sensitive bud, caused vibrations to ring throughout Kakashi’s body as his jaw hung slack. Pretty noises rolling off of his tongue like butter. 

Soon enough, he was chanting to the heavens above, “I’m coming, Y/n, I’m so close.” Singing her name like a mantra before spilling his load on her tongue. To which she prettily displayed before him, swallowing all that she could. 

A few moments later, giving some time to relax, Y/n had climbed onto his lap. Straddling his hips, which wasn’t the best help for his sensitive state at the moment. Regardless, she situated her frame over his, all the while running her thumb across her lips. Cleaning up whatever she had missed, “Open.” She whispered, placing her opposite hand on his chest and bringing her cum covered thumb to his lips. 

She smiles warmly, rocking her hips against his when he parted his lips and stuck out his tongue. 

“Good.” Her voice was smooth as she dragged her thumb across Kakashi’s tongue, watching intently as his lips closed around her digit and proceeded to clean it of his own seed. 

“You’re so pretty, Kakashi,” She sang happily, retracting her finger and pulling his bottom lip along with it. 

Kakashi’s chest inflated with a huge sigh, Y/n coming to lay against it as he wiped the sweat across his brow, “You get me every time, don’t you?” He chuckled deeply, peering down at her.

“Of course,” She hummed, sitting up again, “But we aren’t done yet.”

She lifted her weight, shifting so she could position her slick opening right at the tip of his hard again cock, “That was only the first part of your gift, birthday boy.” She giggled. All before settling down onto his length. Nestling her hips securely against his, throwing her head back at the addictive sensation. She soon began working herself up and down his shaft, not before muttering breathily, “Happy Birthday, Kakashi.” with a lust drunk smile etched across her lips. 

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜

[yelenasdog]

rebel girl (vic de angelis x fem!singer!reader)

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 REBEL GIRL  𝐁𝐘 BIKINI KILL

(listen while reading for best experience) 

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff with a sprinkle of angst for .0000002 seconds

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a kiss during a shared performance turns into something more.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, drinking, my attempts at writing roman dialect and italian, and i believe that’s it.

𝐚/𝐧: ok so i know not a whole lot abt måneskin so if anything abt this in terms of the band or how they perform is inaccurate forgive me! but i think vic is hot and this song makes me think of her LOL. thanks for reading, and enjoy the fic!! <3

(all translations will be linked at the end of the fic)

♀~♀~♀

The cheers of the crowd were deafening, but it seemed the beating of her own heart was even louder. Lights flashed a plethora of neon colors, and those on the stage looked liked silhouettes moving about freely.

Ethan nodded at Thomas, quickly bringing down his stick to the tightly spread plastic.

Thomas bobbed his head, starting to play the opening riff.

Select members of those in attendance began to cheer, just the opening notes being enough to give away what was about to be performed.

“For our last song tonight, we’d like to bring out someone you all know and love.” Damiano spoke into his mic, wrapping an arm around Vic’s neck and allowing her to lean down into the microphone in his hand.

“She’s someone that everyone, including myself, heavily admire as an icon of the generation and a true Riot Grrrl.”


Her eyes closed, a deep breath inhaled and exhaled through her painted mouth. She jumped up and down in her heeled boots, face pointed towards the rickety ceiling of the venue as she did so. She ran a ring adorned hand over her earpieces and made a funny face, making sure they were adjusted to her liking.

A stagehand appeared to her right, handing her a microphone and wishing her good luck. She smiled, responding with a quick “thanks” and a smile.

Victoria looked over from her place on the stage with Damiano, a devilish glint in her eye.

“Here for one night only, London let us introduce” he yelled, leaning down to Vic’s level once more, allowing them to both speak at once, “Y/n Y/l/n!”

A roar erupted from everyone in the building as the aforementioned strutted on stage, lifting the mic to her lips.

“That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood, she’s got the hottest trike in town.” She started, finding her mark in the center of the stage.

“That girl, she holds her head up so high, I think I wanna be her best friend yeah.” Damiano’s raspy voice let out next, both of their voices mixing together like honey as they started the chorus.

“Rebel girl, rebel girl, rebel girl you are the queen of my world.

Rebel girl, rebel girl.”

“I think I wanna take you home” Y/n began, Damiano then taking over.

“I wanna try all your clothes.” He finished, both him and Y/n groaning in unison to the song.

Vic would be lying if she said she didn’t have to clear both her throat, and her mind. Thomas’ fingers worked skillfully and quickly on the neck of his guitar on the small transitional solo, his focus staying on the cool steel.

Damiano held up his tattooed hand, making a talking motion as he sang and rolled his eyes, “When she talks, I hear the revolution.”

Y/n came up behind Vic, one hand running across her hip, the other on her own as she chose to lean into Vic’s mic over her shoulder, “In her hips, there’s revolutions.”

The lead singer then strutted across the stage back to Ethan, propping a leg up on the base of his kit, and then walking back singing, “When she walks, the revolution’s coming.”

Knowing what line was coming up next, the bassist held her breath, and looked down. It was short lived, though, as Y/n picked up her chin with her pointer finger, forcing her to look her in the eyes. She moved his slowly to Victoria, their lips nearly brushing, her touch feather light.

“In…her…kiss…” she slowly sang, dragging it out longer than in the original song and than in rehearsal. She quickly turned her head, falling to her knees with one side to Vic and one to the audience, her hair cascading over her features.

“I taste the revolution!”

She smiled at Vic as she pushed herself up, a goofy grin plastered onto her face as she allowed Damiano to take the chorus. Victoria replied with only a small smirk, her dark eyeshadow glittering under the colorful lights, making her look like some kind of gothic angel, or celestial being.

Resuming singing, Y/n walked back to the front of the stage, her and Damiano switching every verse. She sat down on the edge, letting her legs dangle over the high surface, feeling fingertips barely touch her unclothed thigh.

“That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhood.”

“I got news for you,”

They both pointed their mics into the audience as the screen behind them flashed “she is!” Allowing the crowd, as well as Thomas, Vic, and Ethan to all scream the two words loudly and in sync.

“I know she is,” her and Dami both sang, as he wrapped an arm around Vic’s neck,

“My best friend yeah”

The chorus continued for a final time, Victoria stomping her heavy platforms on the wooden stage, biting her lip as she performed.

Y/n made her way over to Thomas’ side, jumping to his left and swaying her hair, a knowing smile appearing on his face upon seeing Victoria’s gaze falling upon her movements.

Victoria made rounds to Ethan and then to Thomas, passing Y/n and lightly tapping her hip with her own.

Y/n skipped over to Damiano as he did to her, the pair meeting in the middle briefly for the “love you like a sister, always.”

Victoria returned to her spot from the start, and Damiano found his way to Thomas. Y/n continued on towards the ethereal bassist. The both of them were simultaneously singing to the aforementioned in harmony, nearing the end of the song.

“Soul sister, rebel girl,

Come and be my best friend,

Really, rebel girl.”

Y/n dragged a hand across Vic’s chiseled cheekbone, and in that moment Victoria had taken on the title of a muse for the woman standing in front of her.

“I really like you” she sang to her, lowering her mic as they looked into each other’s eyes, her chest heaving. It was like the music had been reduced down to a slight buzzing, and the thousands of peering eyes meant nothing. They were untouchable.

Y/n resumed for the last line, never breaking her eye contact.

“Be my rebel girl.”

It seemed like a question, a proposal of sorts from one to another, as Y/n’s hand dropped once more.

Victoria quirked a brow as if to ask “are we really doing this?” To which Y/n muttered “fuck it” with a laugh.

Victoria’s hands found either side of Y/n’s face, her calloused fingers rough, yet gentle. Y/n’s own hands found one lazily draped over waist, the other over her shoulder to pull her close.

And in what probably the entirety of the building could have guessed would happen (maybe just not on stage, in that exact moment) they closed the gap between themselves, their lips connecting in a sweet kiss.

Chants and yells of encouragement were whooped by the band and crowd alike, as Damiano raised the mic and the final notes played.

“Y/n Y/l/n everybody!”

They pulled apart, sweaty foreheads against each other’s sides as they turned towards everyone, waving. They were quickly joined by the rest of the group, and Y/n stepped away, leaning into the microphone still hooked on the stand in the center of the stage.

“Let’s hear a huge round of applause for the wonderfully mad Måneskin!” She shouted, the roar of the crowd even louder. She raised her hands in the air, then moving one to her ear, gesturing for them to be louder. They complied, and Y/n took out her earpiece for a moment, soaking in what the band had created.

Vic shouted to Y/n over the noise, waving her over.

“Come on, bow with us!”

Y/n shook her head, not wanting to intrude any further to which Thomas reached out an arm, pulling her over. A bright smile covered her face as Vic reached out, wrapping an arm around her waist only for a second.

Hands joined, they all leaned forward in a dramatic bow, coming back up and waving.

All in sync, they all yelled “thank you, London!”

They looked around for a small period of time afterwards, still having a hard time believing that this was their new reality.

Looking to her right, and seeing Y/n doing the same, Vic decided that Y/n was a specific part of said “new reality” she didn’t quite want to let go of.

So after saying one more goodbye and exiting the stage, the bassist remained silent. It slightly worried Y/n, who had noticed the girl’s lack of communication while she had been thanking the rest of the band members for allowing her to share the stage with them.

“Is Victoria alright?” She asked Damiano, to which he only chuckled before replying.

“She’s fine, trust me. Give her a little bit of time and she will be back to normal.”

Y/n just gave him a tight lipped smile, not completely convinced.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed as Victoria slipped into her dressing room, locking the door.

The rest of the group, already having had a few drinks, was out the door, waiting on a cab.

“Y/n? You and Vic coming?” Ethan questioned.

She nodded, though she was unsure if that was the case, doing her best to cast a reassuring smile in his direction.

Once she made sure they were gone, she knocked twice on the heavy door. Before she could even announce it was her, Vic’s voice rang out.

“Vattene, Damiano!”

“Victoria?” Y/n’s tone floated through the door to the other side, and Victoria face palmed and silently cursed herself. She quickly got up and unlocked the door, regretting her harsh tone.

“Y/n, hi.”

“Hi.” She responded, slight uneasiness about her. Victoria picked up on this immediately, her brows furrowing and her eyes softening.

“Are you alright, Y/n?”

The other girl scoffed and looked at her feet. Scared to break any boundaries now that they weren’t on stage, Victoria cautiously lifted a hand towards her chin, softly picking it up like Y/n had before.

Her voice sounded wavy as she spoke, her jaw slightly hanging slack.

“Actually, I came here to ask the same thing.”

Victoria tilted her head like a confused puppy, leaning up against the doorframe.

“Why? What happened?”

Struggling to find the right thing to say, Y/n began to trip over her words.

“Well, I just, you know, on stage and everything- we were super, y’a know, close and everything and I didn’t wanna, I don’t know. Make you uncomfortable or overstep any boundaries or anything, and if it was just a kiss I didn’t wanna overthink it or read into but, I mean, I really liked it but you seemed to go quiet so-“

Victoria cut off her painful rambling with another kiss, taking firm hold of her arms and moving her inside with her and closing the door with her foot.

“Wow.” Y/n said when they finally pulled apart, her eyes as wide as dinner plates and her pupils the size of the moon.

“Yes, wow.” Vic chuckled, moving a piece of Y/n’s stray hair behind her ear.

“You’re very different when you’re on stage, Y/n. You know that?” She asked, admiring how the fluorescent lights above illuminated Y/n’s features in the most wonderful way.

Victoria had decided she liked her most like this. Vulnerable, sweaty, and with the biggest heart eyes she’d ever seen.

“That’s what I was afraid of.” She laughed.

“No.” Vic frowned, taking her hands. “It’s not a bad thing. Not at all.” She brought her over to the velvet sofa in the corner of the room. “It’s admirable.”

“How?” She asked with a small smile.

“Easy. Because even though your stage persona is lovely,” she laughed, “I think I like this Y/n even better. She seems like she’s kind, and has a big heart with lots of love to give.”

Stunned, the other girl just smiled like an idiot, leaning forward and pecking Vic’s lips.

“Well, what about you?”

“What about me?” The bassist replied, enjoying the banter forming between the pair.

“Why’d you go all radio silent? I’d never heard of Victoria De Angelis from EuroVision winning band Måneskin to do such a thing.” She exclaimed in what was the worst accent Victoria had heard in her life.

(Though, it was endearing, she’d admit.)

“Truly? I was thinking about how to ask you out. If you even wanted me to ask you out, all of that.”

Y/n’s eyes somehow got even bigger, and she laughed, tucking her legs beneath her.

“How is that even a question?” She exclaimed.

“Like I said, you are different on stage from off it. I didn’t know if it was just a front, a performance.”

This time it was Y/n’s turn to roll her eyes and lean in, encapsulating Victoria’s lips with her own.

“It wasn’t just a show, I’d love to go out with you, Vic.”

They both giggled like school girls hidden under the bleachers, leaning in for another kiss. It was hot and heavy, yet slow and sweet. It was everything either girl had hoped for. 

And thanks to a certain Italian doofus, or 4, it would be momentarily put on pause. Mid-make out four loud knocks startled the girls, causing the two do them to pull away.

“Victoria! Daje! Perché non rispondi al telefono, eh? Stiamo aspettando- oh. This makes sense.“ Damiano burst through the door, Ethan and Thomas stood behind him with not-so-surprised looks painted on their faces.

“Realmente? Realmente, Damiano?” She scoffed. “Stai manzo!”

“Sorry, guys. Enjoy yourselves.” He turned over his shoulder to the rest, slowly shutting the door.

“Sicuro di dire che non verranno con noi.” He snickered, as did the others.

“Eccallà!” Ethan remarked, to which, not that Vic and Y/n knew, Thomas shoved him to the side.

Victoria sighed, returning to face Y/n.

“So. Where were we?”

♀~♀~♀

i hope yall liked that!! mwah make sure to reblog if u did <333 take care of urself!

translations 

[lesbobiwan]

could you do a Fennec x female reader?

of course!!

Sweet Submission

18+ ONLY!! minors dni!!

warnings: fighting as foreplay, a little bit of degradation (use of cockdumb), strap ons, wlw, edging at the v end

kissing fennec is like a backwater street fight.

every press of teeth against your lips is a blow to the gut that leaves you breathless, and every drag of her tongue across the roof of your mouth is a sucker punch right to your solar plexus.

you like to think you give as good as you get. both of you enjoy the fight right before the submission that changes every time you find yourselves like this.

after all, it’s no fun to just lie down and take it. if fennec wants you underneath her, she’ll have to earn it.

you think, in the back of your mind, that fennec knows you want to lose tonight. you want to feel her hands forcing you into whatever position she wants you — want to feel her teeth drag against your neck and her hands trail underneath your waistband.

but you won’t make it easy for her.

your blood sings as you surge forward, hands tangling in her hair to force her back against the bed. you purposely don’t press your weight on her like you should.

the recognition flits over fennec’s face for barely a second before she’s taking advantage of it. her hips tip forward and she jerks her upper body to the side and out of the way in an impressive maneuver as you careen face first into the mattress.

fennec twists again, powerful thighs bracketing your own while her feet hook around the inside of your ankles to keep your lower half pinned.

the only sound in the room is fennec’s pants in your ear, the blood rushing beneath your skin, and the soft whirring of the mechanics in her abdomen.

fennec leans forward, pressing her breasts flush to your back, and like this you can feel the almost icy sensation of her cybernetics against your lower back.

“are you done?” she questions, hands closing easily around your wrists when you try to scramble up. fennec eases up off your back for just a moment before she forces your hands to cross at the small of your back. she presses herself back onto you before you can even blink.

your hands still flail from where they’re trapped between you two. your palms slide against the clear protective casing that shows her cybernetics and your nails scratch just beneath her belly button.

you enjoy the hiss she lets out, but instead of jerking backwards she only presses even more of her weight into you, forcing your hands to curl uncomfortably between your bodies.

the way her thighs cage your own in makes you acutely aware of the slick that drips from your cunt. can she feel it too?

the only benefit to this position — as if the whole thing isn’t already exactly what you wanted — is that your thighs are forced to be pressed together, and you can get as much friction as you want on your throbbing pussy.

one of fennec’s hands — and isn’t it embarrassing that she can restrain you with just one hand? isn’t it exhilarating? — trail to the front of your body.

she grasps at one of your tits and tweaks the nipple until you cry out into the pillow. fennec seems to like the noise because she pulls it from your throat twice more before dragging her hand down.

down over your trembling stomach and skipping over your dripping core entirely before forcing itself between the thick of your thighs.

“oh baby,” she coos in your ear, lips brushing against the skin in a way that makes you shiver beneath her, “you’re so wet just from me pinning you down? you’re dripping down your thighs all from a little manhandling?” fennec tsks.

“f-fuck you,” you stutter out, clenching your thighs around her hand and rolling your hips to try and force her to touch where you need it most.

fennec’s teeth scrape against your neck as she responds. “maybe if you won.”

you groan into the pillow as if upset with the reminder of your loss, if you could even call it that. is it a loss when you’re getting exactly what you want?

“now, will you be a good girl and stay just like this for me while i go get the strap, or will i have to do something else for my little brat tonight?”

her words release another wave of slick from your sopping pussy.

“i’ll be good!” you gasp, turning your head away from the pillow to be heard. “i’ll be so good, i promise — i’ll stay right here!”

fennec’s pleased hum makes lightning shoot down your spine, and she rewards you with a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “good girl.”

her weight leaves you between one blink and the next, and without turning your head towards her you know that she’s digging through your extensive toy chest to find exactly which strap on she wants to fuck you with.

without the grip of her hand around both of your wrists, the temptation to touch is too great to resist.

you slowly widen your knees, danger thrumming in your veins because you said you wouldn’t move. but as your fingers finally swipe across your throbbing clit, you know whatever punishment she has for you will be worth it.

you bite down on your lip, stifling your whimpers as two shaky fingers circle around your clit. your other hand barely reaches your hole — you barely dip the tip of one finger into your pussy before your hands are getting wrenched into their original spot at the small of your back.

“what did i say?” fennec demands, voice low. the plastic cock that she chose for tonight rubs cruelly against your slit as fennec settles in between your newly spread thighs.

you cry out, rutting against the hard length of the plastic with an animalistic single-mindedness. your hands twist as best they can in her grip, fingernails scratching weakly at her wrists.

“i’m sorry!” you wail, even as you continue to cant your hips back in search of more.

“no you aren’t,” fennec denies, and she uses her free hand to press just the very tip of her cock into your cunt.

you clench and flutter around the intrusion, a guttural sound leaving you as she presses herself in, inch by excruciating inch.

she doesn’t piston into you like you expect — doesn’t set a brutally fast pace.

instead, fennec takes advantage of her literal abs of durasteel, and slams into you — harsh and slow and exactly enough to ruin you.

her pace never falters. her hips don’t stutter as they smack against yours.

the fingers not holding your wrists together trails to circle around your clit. quick and precise circles that have you drooling into the pillow like nothing more than a —

“cockdumb little girl,” fennec breathes out, voice cutting through the fog in your brain. “that’s what you are, right? cockdumb for me?”

you wail in agreement, eyes clenching shut as your release builds inside you.

“that’s it,” fennec pinches your clit between her fingers, forcing a squeal from your throat, “that’s my girl.”

the cock drilling inside of you doesn’t speed up, but she somehow starts to fuck you harder. your thighs tremble against the onslaught and your toes curl and —

fennec wrenches her cock out of you.

you cry out as what was sure to be an earth shattering orgasm is ruined. your hips jerk and you writhe as much as you can beneath her, begging incoherently for her to just put it back in, please fuck me, pleaseplease —

“no,” fennec tsks, pressing her teeth into one of the bite marks she’s already left behind, “if you want to cum, you’ll earn it. understood?”

you sob into the pillow, fingernails digging into your own palms as your perfect plan is ruined.

a sharp smack against your ass has you squealing again.

“understood?” fennec repeats, and she brings her hand down on your opposite cheek when you don’t answer right away.

“yes!” you shriek, “i understand! i understand!”

the tip of the dildo presses back into you. “good girl,” fennec whispers, and she presses back into you just as torturously slow as the first time.

“good girl.”

[arvinsescape]

His rich girl, her pirate.

A/N: I’ve been watching way too much pirates of the Carribean and this popped into my head, a longer one again and I hope you all enjoy!! 💕

Warnings: Language, smut (minors do not engage), oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it up people), mentions of death. Maybe a few spelling mistakes.

Summary: He rescues her and she’s everything he ever wanted, even if he didn’t think so at first.

W/C: 6.8K

“Captain!” Tom heard his name shouted from outside his quarters on the ship, he was busy mapping out a new course, in search of some treasure or other. Tom dropped his pencil onto the table, huffing as it slid onto the floor with the sway of the tide.

“What?” He asked as he opened his door.

“We found someone.” His crewmate answered and Tom furrowed his brows, they were practically in the middle of nowhere.

“Someone?” Tom asked, brows furrowed as he followed his friend to the side of the ship, looking over and onto a few of the rocks below.

“There.” Another man shouted.

Tom followed the man’s finger and his eyebrows shot up at the sight. A woman was laid out on a rock, she looked almost dead, god knows how long she’d been there.

“Release the ladder.” Tom said, watching as one of his men threw the ladder over the side of the ship. “Stay here.” Tom ordered as he climbed over the side and onto the ladder.

“But captain,” one of his men stopped him. “It’s bad luck to bring a woman on board.” He continued and Tom rolled his eyes, this particular member of his crew had always been superstitious to a fault. “She might be a siren.” He panicked.

“I don’t hear her singing.” Tom grumbled as he continued down the ladder.

“Captain, you’ll bring bad luck to us all.” Chris shouted again and Tom ignored him as he jumped off the ladder. Tom moved carefully towards the figure, she was laid out on her front, back facing up, it looked bruised, and Tom wondered if she was in fact alive.

“How’d you get out here?” Tom asked himself as he carefully turned her figure over, he was in awe of her. She was possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, her dress was in tatters, probably because she’d ended up overboard, the water and rocks won’t have helped much. He knelt down next to her, pressing his head to her chest, she was alive, just barely but alive none the less.

The rain had started, covering everything in its path, including her. Tom huffed as he became soaked in rain water, it was heavy, the droplets big, probably a storm. He lifted her carefully and placed her over his shoulder, making his way back to the ladder, it was an awkward affair getting up the ladder with her on his shoulder.

“Captain, you should throw her back overboard, see the rain has come.” Chris said, drunk as usual.

“Christopher, we have sailed through storms and all sorts. If you are frightened of a little rain, perhaps it is you I should be throwing overboard.” Tom snapped as he made his way into his quarters, placing her figure down on his bed. “Where did you come from?” Tom asked to himself, taking in her figure properly now, with some light to help him see, it was late in the evening by now.

She was dressed in fine clothes, Tom could see that much, a noble woman? It wasn’t attire a pirate like himself was used to seeing that’s for sure. He watched as she struggled to breath, struggled to take large breaths, hers being short and shallow. Tom took in her dress and cursed before grasping his knife. He grasped the front of her dress being careful as he ran the knife through the material, freeing her from her corset.

It was almost immediate, a long breath was taken in her unconscious state. Tom was careful as he removed her torn dress, keeping his eyes trained on the task at hand, not on the skin he was revealing to himself. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman’s company, but this was nothing like those times, he needed to rid her of her wet clothing, get her into something dry so she could warm up.

He gasped as he took in the bruising around her stomach and chest, what had happened? Tom left to find one of his shirts, it was the best he could do. He carefully lifted her as put it on, taking note of the bruising to her back. Once successful, he pulled his sheets over her body, watching as she seemed to snuggle further into the warmth, letting out a sigh of content. Tom found himself smiling.

He left her alone in his bed, leaving his room as he went back onto the deck, locking his door behind him. Some of the men on this ship he wouldn’t trust as far as he could throw, his men now eyeing him.

“She’s alive and I demand that every one of you leave her be. She’s not to be harmed.” Tom snapped out and half the men looked deflated, it had been a while since any of them had had a woman’s company. Although Tom had never had a girlfriend and slept with quite a few women he still had respect for them, some of the men here didn’t.

“Captain, please listen to me.” He heard Chris. “She will bring death to us all, women shouldn’t come aboard a pirate ship.”

“We will drop her at the next port, what do you propose I do? Leave her to die?” Tom snapped, clearly growing annoyed with the man.

“If we live to see the next port.” Chris huffed back as he disappeared, probably to find more rum. Tom rolled his eyes as he made his way up to the wheel of the ship.

“How long until the next port?” He asked and watched as Harrison turned his head to him.

“Maybe three days, if the wind is kind.” He answered and Tom nodded. “We need more supplies?”

“No, I mean we could pick more up but no. We’ll be dropping the woman off, maybe she’ll find her way back home.” Tom answered and Harrison laughed.

“Don’t wanna keep her around?” Harrison joked as he nudged Tom with his shoulder.

“Harrison.” Tom warned.

“What? About time you found a woman.” Haz laughed.

“Yeah? Where’s yours?” Tom joked back and Harrison shrugged.

“I prefer the pirate life, if I ever met a woman who’d want to do this with me then I’d have a girlfriend, but they aren’t interested in the life of a pirate.” He laughed and Tom joined.

“Sure it’s not just because they find you as infuriating as I do?” Tom teased.

“Maybe I should be more like you, grumpy, snappy, bad tempered overall. You are more of a hit with the women than I am.”

Tom laughed as he clapped his best friend on the shoulder, making his way back to his room, unlocking the door. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, he glanced into his bedroom and furrowed his brows when he saw her figure had disappeared. He made his way into his room and found her in the corner, butter knife pointed at him. Tom held his hands up as she eyed him, distrust clear in her eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” She asked and Tom found himself amused. Pushing down how beautiful your voice sounded to him.

“Meaning of what? I saved you.” Tom said back and she scoffed.

“You’ve kidnapped me.” She replied.

“Kidnapped? I don’t think that’s what this is.”

“You locked the door, like a hostage.” She snapped and Tom laughed, lowering his hands.

“To make sure you’re safe. I assume you haven’t grasped what kind of a ship you’re on.”

“Pirate, I gathered that much with your charts over there.” She said, Tom found something endearing about her, the way she challenged him, she was brave, he’d give her that.

“Okay sweetheart,” Tom started as he made his way towards her, she held the knife higher, and Tom easily took it from her grasp. “You won’t be doing much damage with that.” Tom laughed and she huffed.

“You undressed me.” She snapped and Tom made his way to one of the many chairs scattered around his quarters as he sat, and she followed. He took his boots off.

“The cold would have taken you if I hadn’t.” He pointed out. “Besides, I dressed you again didn’t I?” He mused.

“Such a gentleman,” she rolled her eyes. “I demand you take me back to my ship.” She said, voice firm but it amused the hell out of Tom.

“Your ship? I think we passed the wreckage just before we found you.” Tom laughed and watched as her face flared with anger.

“I do not appreciate your tone. Do you know who you’re talking to?” She said and Tom looked at her, she was clearly from money, that much he could tell, the way she carried herself and spoke was enough of an indication. He almost shook his head, she looked good in his shirt, thoughts of her wearing them more often drifting into his thoughts.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not the sort of man you are used to dealing with, but I am all you have at the moment sweetheart.”

“Y/N.” She snapped.

“Tom. Look, it’s been a long night, how about I have a bath drawn for you and you can warm up. I’ll have some food arranged to be brought here.” Tom spoke as he stood, pulling his shirt from his pants as he relaxed for the night, grabbing himself a drink. “Want one?” He asked as he handed her a glass with the liquor in it.

He watched as she took it, taking a sip before coughing. He laughed as he took the glass from her grip, handing her a glass of water instead, he watched as she drank it. It hadn’t dawned on him that she might be slightly dehydrated as he handed her the rest of the bottle filled with water. She didn’t waste much time in drinking it, she was so elegant in everything she did, such a lady, it had Tom slightly struck with her.

He called for his men to draw a hot bath, and then instructed them to bring some food to them. Tom placed his hand in the bath water, deeming it hot but not so hot that it would scold someone.

“Here.” Tom said as he held a hand out to her, she hesitantly took it, eyeing Tom and then eyeing the hot water. “Don’t worry,” he threw his hands up in defense as to put her at ease. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Do you have any clothes?” She asked, head held slightly higher than most women he was used to dealing with. She intrigued him, he wanted to know where she’d come from, how she’d ended up stranded. He shrugged.

“Not for women I don’t. I would have the clothes I found you in washed but they are somewhat in bits.” Tom smiled as he watched her furrow her brows. “I’m happy to try and find you something to wear for now.” He said and watched as she nodded. He smiled once more before making his way out of the room and shutting the door.

He heard a knock at his door, opening it to find Harrison with food in hand. He took a shot with his next question, shocked with the answer.

“You don’t happen to have a dress do you?”

“I do actually.” He said and Tom furrowed his brows. “One of the women I slept with last time we docked left it. It’s clean, might fit her.” Harrison shrugged and Tom smiled as he asked his friend to bring it, a few minutes later Haz reappeared, dress in hand as he handed it to him and bid him a goodnight.

Tom knocked on the door of the room she was in, watching as she answered, towel clad body eyeing him.

“One of the crew had this, here.” He said as he handed her the dress. A few minutes later and she was sat across from him as they ate, even the way you ate was graceful. The dress she had on made her look even more beautiful. “So, what is a woman like you doing so far out at sea?” He asked.

“I was accompanying my uncle to an isle nearby, we hit a storm.” She said, a sadness to her voice. “I suppose I should assume they are all dead?” She asked carefully and Tom couldn’t help but want to ease her nerves.

“You didn’t.”

“I suppose.” She smiled slightly. Tom finished his meal and placed both his feet up on the table, much to her horror. “Have you no manners?” She asked and Tom let out a laugh.

“Some. Probably not as many as you though princess.” She huffed at that.

“How is it I get stuck on a pirate ship?”

“Trust me, I’m not the worst one you could have gotten stuck with. You’re welcome by the way.” He said and she looked at him in confusion. “You know, for saving you.” He pointed out and she looked slightly embarrassed for a second before recovering.

“Yes, I suppose I never said thank you.” She said, stubborn tone. Tom liked her, one of the first women he’d met that didn’t want to be in his room.

“And you go on about my manners.” Tom teased and she laughed lightly, a beautiful sound to his ears.

“I’m sorry, I’m being judgmental. That isn’t kind of me.”

“I think I can forgive you.” He smiled and she joined before yawning into the back of her hand. “You should get some rest.” Tom said as he gestured back to his bed, and she looked at him like he had two heads.

“Just what are you insinuating?”

“Absolutely nothing. I can sleep anywhere however, I imagine the princess is only used to a bed.” He really fucking liked her, found her adorable, a challenge but he liked it.

**

The next day and she’d opened up slightly, less tense. The crew had taken an instant liking to her, Tom knew most of them were being nice in hopes she’d join them in their chambers and Tom laughed as he watched her face contort almost with disgust, they weren’t fooling her.

“It’s going to be tomorrow when we hit the port, the wind has been almost unbelievably kind.” Harrison informed Tom and Tom found himself almost sad, she was going to be leaving their company sooner than he’d hoped.  

“Great.” Tom mumbled as he made his way back to his chambers where he found her tidying up. He raised his brows in question.

“Sorry, I just thought I’d tidy this place up a bit, it’s very messy.” She laughed and Tom smiled.

“I don’t care much for cleaning.” He said as he made his way to the music box he kept in his room, choosing a classical piece he’d stolen in one of the ports they’d sailed to.

“I didn’t take you for a man who listened to this sort of music.” She said and he looked at her before shrugging.

“It’s calming.” He said simply and she smiled.

“I had to dance to this once, I ridiculous man who wanted to be my husband.” She laughed and Tom smirked.

“The lady is not married?”

“No, much to my father’s annoyance. I refused to marry a man who drank too much and the last man he wanted me to marry was old enough to be my father.”

“Sounds like a shitty life, not being able to do what you want.” Tom said.

“It has some advantages. Life on the sea can’t be all that good.” She said but it wasn’t in judgment, more curiosity.

“I have seen more of the world than I imagine you have. I have the freedom to do as I wish.” Tom said honestly and she smiled.

“I always wanted to live in the sea. Used to wish I could be a mermaid when I was a small child.” She admitted childishly.

“Mermaids aren’t so nice.” Tom shrugged and he watched as her eyes widened.

“You’ve met one?” She asked and he snorted.

“Don’t be daft, there’s no such thing. The kraken? That doesn’t exist either.” He laughed and she smacked his shoulder playfully.

“It’s not kind to tease.” She said, small smile on her lips.

“I suppose it’s not, the look on your face made it worth it though.”

“You are not kind to me Tom.” She laughed.

“I think I’m very kind, gave you a place to stay.” He raised a brow.

“I’m sure my family will pay handsomely for that.” She said and he laughed.

“I doubt it. People like you think people like me should be grateful just to be in your presence, to speak to you.”

“That’s not true!” She said, growing annoyed with him. “My family may be noble, but we are not snobs.” She defended.

“No?” He teased. “How much time do you spend with people who are not like you? Tell me, where you allowed friends of a poorer status?” He asked and she huffed.

“I’m going to bed.” She said as she stood up, Tom reaching out for her hand.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. But I suppose you’ve never known what it’s like for people like us.” He said, the softness of her hand a stark contrast to his own calloused ones. She sighed before sitting down again.

“I know. Look, my family can be snobs, awful really. I never wanted to be like them. I did have a friend once, she was the baker’s daughter, a lovely girl. My parents found out and I never saw her again.” She admitted, a tear in her eye. “I always wanted to run away, it was my plan. It was why I was on the boat in the first place, I was going to run away. Instead, I almost died, and I only have you to thank for the fact that I didn’t.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Tom said as he placed his hand on her cheek and wiped at the stray tear, he watched as she sniffled before standing.

“I’m sorry, that was wrong of me. Crying in front of someone else.” She said and she tried to leave put Tom grasped her hand tighter, making her stop and look at him.

“You are allowed to cry. Keeping those emotions bottled up is no good for you.”

**

They’d arrived in the port, the men having disappeared to find what they wanted. Tom took you to a noble looking man who was taking names from one of the ships that was not a pirate ship.

“Name?” The man asked without looking at the two of you.

“I was hoping you could find this woman’s home.” Tom said as he looked at her, she’d become very quiet, much quieter than usual. The man peered over his sheet and looked at her, Tom decided to leave the two of you alone as he smiled at her, the gesture had become returned.

Tom made his way back to his ship, waiting for his men’s return, a sadness set in his chest, he was going to miss her. The only god send being he’d get his bed back, an ache had set in his back from sleeping in the chair.

“Tom!” He heard his name, the last voice he expected to hear. He looked up from his spot on the step he’d sat on. Her beautiful figure making its way over before stopping in front of him. “I want to come.” She said simply and Tom furrowed his brows.

“You want to come? Live aboard this ship?” He asked, completely in disbelief.

“Yes. My family will assume I’m dead. You can take me to see the world, can you not?” She asked and Tom’s eye brows shot up.

“Princess, I’m not sure a pirate life would be for you. Besides, you’d have to share a room with me.” Tom said, thinking this was a fleeting thought for the woman, something she’d not thought through.

“You’re not so bad.” She admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Charming.” He laughed and she joined.

**

That was that, a week later and you were sailing towards a treasure Tom had set his eyes on. The crew had decided they liked her, taking her as one of their own, all but Chris. Tom had lost eyes on Chris as he looked around the deck from his perch above.

“Where’s Chris?” Tom asked Harrison.

“Should he not be scrubbing the deck today?” Haz replied. It was a glorious day, she’d disappeared to do something.

“I can’t see him.” Tom said and watched as one of his men ran up towards him.

“Captain, you should know Chris was talking some shite this morning. Now I’m worried for miss Y/N’s safety.” He said and Tom shot to his feet.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he made his way down the steps.

“He was talking about her being a bad omen, how she needed to be dealt with, killed captain.” The man panicked, but nowhere near as much as Tom was. He rushed into your now shared quarters and saw red at the sight in front of him. Chris had her pinned down, hands wrapped firmly around her throat as he tried to squeeze the life out of her.

“Never should have come aboard. Must save the crew and the captain.” Maybe Tom had overlooked this man’s drinking problem. He was fast to act, knocking the man from atop of her. He restrained him as he watched her cough, gasping for air. Tom handed Chris to Harrison who’d made an appearance.

“Take him out of my sight.” Tom snapped as he helped her up, pulling her to his chest as she fisted his shirt. “Lock him up, we’ll drop him at the next port.” He said as he held her closer to him.

“Captain?” Chris asked, wide eyed.

“Just be thankful I’m not making you walk the fucking plank.” Tom almost shouted and Chris silenced himself as Harrison took him away. “Hey,” Tom said when they’d gone. “You’re okay.” He reassured as he ran a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead.

“Thank you Tom.” She spoke. “I suppose I owe you my life at this point.” She laughed lightly as she pulled away from him, he instantly wanted her back in his hold.

“Don’t sweat it.” He shrugged in reply.

**

It was later on that evening, everyone was enjoying a drink on the deck, an evening of partying had ensued. She was enjoying herself, lightly tipsy as she held a bottle of run in her hand, Tom was surprised when she drank from the bottle.

“Not very lady like.” Tom teased and she laughed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I suppose I can’t call myself that now. Pirate I am.” She laughed as she raised the bottle, much to Tom’s amusement. “Or should I say a fucking pirate?” She laughed again as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Miss L/N, what a dirty mouth you have on you.”

“I’m almost as bad as you.” She laughed and Tom felt his heart pound in his chest, she was so beautiful to him, more free than when he’d first met her.

“I don’t swear in front of ladies.” He said.

“No, but I’ve heard you swear in front of the crew. You swear at them a lot. A true sailors mouth.”

“I thought we were pirates.” He teased and he watched as she took another swig and shrugged, pulling a laugh from him.

“You’ve grown on me.” She suddenly said.

“Good to know.” He said as he pulled her even closer to him, he was intoxicated by her scent.

“I really like you Tom.” She said as she looked at him, his heart soared when she reached out and moved a stray piece of hair back from his face. Her fingers running down his cheek as she studied him, almost as if she was admiring a painting. She ran her fingers over his lips, he kissed the tips of them, making her giggle.

“You’re okay.” Tom simply said with a smirk as she slapped at his shoulder.

“Arsehole.” She huffed. “I thought we were having a moment.” She said with a laugh.

“Oh, you wanted a moment?” He asked as he stood, pulling her with him as he took the bottle from her hand and passed it to Harrison.

“Tom?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed. He bowed, the music being played by the crew, she knew what he wanted. He held his hand out to her and the crew watched in awe as their captain, their grumpy captain, took the woman’s hand in his and pulled her into him. Chest to chest as he placed a hand on her waist and held her hand, her free hand making its way onto his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance.” She said in amazement. Tom laughed as he tugged her impossibly closer.

“There’s quite a lot you don’t know about me, I’m sure.” He said back as he twirled her under his arm, pulling her back into him. The crew watched as their captain danced with the woman, so happy, soft, careful. She was smiling like a woman who’d had all her dreams answered in the last five minutes.

“Tom?” She asked after a while, she had her arms around his neck, head on his shoulder as his arms stayed firmly on her waist. He hummed in response, it was a beautiful night, he’d forgotten that the crew were still around, although they’d all started chatting to one another, the music slowing to a gentle pace as they swayed with one another. “I meant it.” She said.

“What?”

“I really like you.” She looked up at him. He looked down at her, she looked as beautiful as ever, her eyes had a shine to them he’d not seen before, she looked so happy, genuinely content with life and it made his heart beat for her all that much harder. Their faces became closer, almost impossibly so.

“Are you going to kiss me Tom?” She asked him, her breath hitting his face in the most breathtaking way.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asked, lips brushing one another’s.

“I didn’t think pirates asked for permission.” She whispered, standing on her tip toes, drawing herself closer to him. He let out a breathy laugh before capturing her lips with his own and god, he wished he’d done it sooner. Her lips were sweet, soft pressed against his own, her hands winding into his hair as she pulled him closer, he hummed into the kiss, a hand trailing up her spine and into her hair. She pulled away for air and looked at him in such a way that had him, there and then, he was hers.

“Wow.” She breathed out, a hand playing with the curls at the back of his head.

“I really like you too by the way.” He whispered as he placed his lips back against hers.

**

Two weeks later and they’d kissed a few times, they made port for the night in a pirate port. Dropping Chris off to do what ever he wanted, he was still muttering shit as they dropped him off. They were in a bar, having a few drinks and he watched as she conversed with the crew, Harrison had found a woman for the evening. No one was yet wasted, they’d only been in there an hour.

“I hear you’re captain of a ship.” A woman said, voice seductive as she stood in front of him.

“That I am.” He replied simply.

“Do you want to show me your room?” She asked and Tom looked down at her, she wasn’t leaving much to his imagination, breasts almost on full display.

“Not really, I have a room-mate.” He dismissed. He hadn’t noticed that Y/N was watching them.

“Just tell him you’re busy.” She said as she gripped his collar, pressing her lips to his. He was too shocked to do anything for a moment. That moment took too long as Y/N walked out of the bar, tears streaming down her face.

Tom pushed the woman off him gently. She huffed, trying to reattach their lips.

“Listen, I’m sure you’re lovely but no.” Tom said as he walked out in search of her. He didn’t find her, making his way back to the ship, only hoping that was where she’d gone. “Y/N/N?” He called when he got back to the ship, he heard her sniffles and found her sat on the steps that connected the upper deck and lower deck. “Y/N/N.” He sighed as he sat next to her.

“You really are just a pirate aren’t you?” She sniffled out.

“That’s not what that was, it wasn’t what it looked like.” He said.

“Bullshit.” She snapped as she stood, making her way into their shared room. “You are the same as the rest of them.” She said, ego clearly hurt, and Tom huffed.

“I just told you, it wasn’t what it looked like. Can you not just trust me? Have not proven enough that I care about you?” He said and she scoffed. “I get it, your feelings are hurt.” He snapped. “But I would have thought you’d trust me by now.”

“Trust you? Tom, you steal shit, you take what you want. Including my feelings and you toss them aside like they mean nothing.” She shouted and Tom felt his own heart ache, she didn’t trust him?

“You’re behaving like a brat. A complete child.” He shouted back at her. “I didn’t want her to kiss me, she just did. I don’t know what else to tell you.” He shouted, they were close, very close, he’d gotten her almost backed up into the wall.

“Me a brat?” She shouted in disbelief. “I’m nothing of the sort.” Something about her anger, the way she was screaming at him with such passion, such a fire in her eyes, turned him on to no end.

“You are so difficult.” He snapped as he caged her in with his forearms around her head.

“You’re an arsehole.” She snapped back, tension thick.

“You really can be a little brat at times.” He said back and she jumped on him, taking him by surprise as her lips fell to his. He pulled her closer to him, this kiss far more needy and desperate, one goal in mind for the pair.

“I never should have come back.” She said as she removed his shirt and he pinned her to the wall as he kissed her neck, placing a hand to other side.

“Never should have let you come back.” He retorted as he hiked her thigh up his leg. She pulled him closer to her with the leg wrapped around him. There crotches were close now, Tom groaning as he felt himself harden against her.

“Such an arrogant prick.” She said through a moan as he found her sweet spot. He laughed as he looked as her, running his hand up her thigh that was around his waist.

“Stuck up, childish brat.” He fired back. It was almost like they were revisiting that almost hatred of first meeting each other, the very personality traits that drew them to each other. Yes, they’d had their moments, much softer but they’d still had their moments, she challenged him in a way he didn’t know he wanted to be challenged.

“Fuck, Tom.” She breathed out in a moan as he squeezed her thigh, almost teasing where he knew she wanted him. He pulled back as he turned her around, her back facing him as the complicated lace of her dress stared back at him. Fuck this, Tom thought as he grasped at the material, ripping it as he heard her gasp. He turned her round gain as the material fell down her shoulders.

“You look so fucking beautiful.” He murmured as he pulled the dress from her frame, watching it pool around her feet.

“Thought I was a brat?” She fired back, eyes dark with lust and fuck, Tom was in love with her. Tom laughed at her words, pinning her back to the wall, kissing along her collarbones.

“Oh, sweetheart, you really fucking are. An absolute brat.” He said as he cupped her chin, she looked at him and he knew this was the first time in her life a man had been rough with her, and she fucking liked it. “You like it when I put you in your place? Remind you that you can just be an argumentative brat?” He asked and she moaned as he sucked her collarbone, pulling him closer, hand fisting his hair.

“You fucking kissed her Tom.” She fired back as she pulled his head up and connected their lips, god this woman. “Was she as good as I was?” She asked and Tom couldn’t help but shake his head.

“No baby, she wasn’t. I bet she had far less of an attitude though.” He said as she released the drawstring of his pants, them pooling around his feet as they both took their respective shoes off.

“You like being challenged don’t you Tom? Like someone who argues with you, challenges your status as a captain?” She said as she pushed him back onto the bed, Tom wanted this woman and he never wanted to let her go.

“Just as much as you like being put in your place. Being reminded that you’re just another rich girl who never had no said to her. A brat.” He said as he watched her remove her underwear before climbing on top of him, fuck, he’d never had an encounter like this before and fuck, he was turned on to fuck.

“Bet she wouldn’t make you feel like I do Tom.” She said as she kissed his neck and he moaned slightly, it had become a complete fight for dominance, neither of them knew which one would win and ultimately neither one cared.

“That’s why you’re here right? Because no man can make you feel like I do. I excite you don’t I? I know when to treat you like a lady and when not to and you fucking know it don’t you?” He said as he flipped the two of them, taking his own underwear off. “You get off on the idea of me being rough with you, putting you in your place.” He said as he kissed her neck and she moaned as he traced his tip down her slit. “You’re so fucking wet princess.”

“Fuck me.” She breathed out.

“Oh gladly, but first I want to taste you Y/N.” He said as he made his way down her body, kissing every inch that he could, her hips raising off the bed in anticipation. He pinned them back onto the mattress as he came face to face with her glorious heat, visibly wet for him. He licked a stripe through her folds and moaned at the sounds she made. He’d never met a woman like her, and he didn’t think he ever would again.

He practically buried his face in her cunt, licked and sucked at her clit as she moaned his name, moaned for him not to stop. He traced a hand down her thigh, running his fingers up it as she her moans reached a higher pitch. He was reveling in her sounds, moaning against her every so often and it pulled a louder moan from her.

He traced his fingers around her entrance before placing two in with ease, she was so wet and tight, Tom couldn’t wait to bury his cock inside her.

“Oh, fuck, Tom.” She moaned out and he removed his lips from her clit for a second as he spoke.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a lady.” He teased and she moaned, raising her hips off the mattress, getting herself off on his fingers. “Fuck, you like that. Like my fingers buried deep inside you?” He asked as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, her wetness making it easier to slide them in and out.

He placed his mouth back on her clit and she tightened around his fingers, she was close. He licked and sucked on her clit until she screamed his name, her orgasm washing over her as he fucked her through it, carefully removing his fingers when she was done. He moved himself back up to her face, she looked so blissfully happy, pleasure painted all over her face. Tom placed his fingers in his mouth, licking her orgasm off his fingers. She looked at him as if it was the filthiest and biggest turn on she’d ever seen.

“Open up.” He said as he placed his fingers in her mouth, she sucked on them, eyes never leaving his and Tom felt himself grow harder than he ever had before.

“Fuck.” He muttered before entering her, giving her a minute to adjust as her walls clenched and unclenched around him, both of them moaning. She nodded at him, lifting her hips, a signal for him to move. He did, drawing his hips back before slamming back into her, she moaned as her head rolled back.

“Let’s see if we can fuck that brattiness out of you.” Tom moaned and she joined, moaning louder than she had so far. He continued his pace, slamming in and out of her, his own orgasm climbing up him. She clenched particularly tightly around him, and he moaned, she was close again. He moved a hand to rub her clit, resting all his weight on one arm.

It wasn’t long before she was screaming his name and digging her nails into his back, he knew she’d have left scratches, but he didn’t care, it added to his pleasure, pulling him further towards his own orgasm. He was so close, so unbelievably close and she pulled him down, her lips against his ear as she spoke.

“I love you, Tom.” She said and he moaned as he pulled out of her, hot spurts of his cum making ribbons on her stomach. He collapsed on top of her, as they both panted, both sweaty messes. He kissed at her shoulder, they both shook as the aftershocks of their orgasms went through them, both cuddled close.

“I love you.” She said as she lifted his head and peppered kisses along his face.

“I love you too. So much.” He said as he placed his own kisses to her face.

He cleaned the two of them up and for the first time since he’s rescued her, she was laid against his chest as they shared a bed, his hand running up and down her arm. Placing the occasional kiss to her head.

“Long overdue.” She giggled as she traced patterns along his chest with her finger.

“Yeah, long overdue.” He said, pulling her closer. She still looked blissfully fucked out, content and happy. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to sleep.

**

Five years later and Tom was running the best pirate ship in the sea. Women had joined now, Harrison had a girlfriend, some of the other crew did. Y/N and Tom where still perfectly and happily in love, she still challenged him in ways he wanted to be challenged and he still treated her like a princess, but not between the sheets. He made sure she had everything she wanted, she made sure the same.

They were prefect for each other, Tom found her as he wrapped his arms around her waist, laying his hands on her stomach. She was watching over the side of the boat, finding content when she watched the sea, he took her left hand in his.

“Mrs, Holland, I do believe it’s about time for your foot rub.” He said.

“Mr Holland, you are never late.” She said as his finger traced the ring on her hand.

“I love you.” He said as he placed his hand over her growing bulge, hands rubbing at it, the growing baby inside her. She reciprocated the feelings as he turned her and led them back to those same quarters they fell in love in, the same quarters where he had spent hours showing her how much he loved her, cared for her. There was no one else for him and there was no one else for her.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None for this chap Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Sure, your soulmate may be a vampire (of sorts), but there's nothing that love can't conquer, right?... Maybe it's time you learn a little more about the odd circumstances of your soulmate's existence- and the fear that lies beneath the surface. Notes: If the last chapter was "hurt" followed by comfort, this is "comfort" followed by hurt, also known as the part where the story's central conflict comes into play. Features an appearance from Daniela, who reminds us that Cassandra's not the only one with a sharp tongue around here. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands, 3: Rumbling Thunder

4: That Which Burns

“Of all the stars, the fairest,” Bela murmurs in your ear, keeping her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, before giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. If you hadn’t already been blushing, you certainly would have now done so. You’re leaning into her touch, face flushed as can be, loving every moment of this. For a while now you’ve been curled up with her, while she reads excerpts from her favorite works. Although both of you would have preferred to do this outside, enjoying the view of the stars, you figured it would be best not to push your health too much. After all, you had lost a huge percentage of your blood. Well, temporarily, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

“That’s probably my favorite line from Sappho,” you chimed, fondly remembering some of your schooling. “Though the one about being remembered always stands out to me. I’m not sure I remember it correctly, and I’m sure it’s been translated a few different ways over the years… but I think it’s ‘someone, I tell you, will remember us in another time’. Might have gotten that backwards, actually.” Giving an awkward little smile, you sheepishly rub the back of your head with one hand. “Either way it feels so romantic. To think of a love so strong that it echoes throughout time, fondly remembered for generations… it warms the heart.”

“Mhmm, most definitely, my dear. Many aren’t as lucky, however,” Bela laments, an odd expression crawling onto her face. There’s the slightest waver to her lower lip as she speaks. Concerned, you turn in place to get a better look, gently reaching out to caress her cheek. Is there something I’m missing? You think, wondering what you should say. “I’m alright, I promise. Merely distracted by a fleeting thought. Let’s read another, yes?” Before you can protest, she’s already turned to another page, starting to read as if she already knew which one was next (which would not, at all, surprise you).

Love shook my heart, Like the wind on the mountain, Troubling the oak-trees

“Oh, if only I could speak Aeolic Greek, so that I could serenade you with tender prose, all the days of your life… just as it was originally written. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Bela offers, once again smiling wide, as if nothing in the world was wrong, at least not when you were by her side. Though you are not keen to ignore her earlier stroke of misery, you are equally reluctant to put a damper on her current upswing. Now what were you to do? Little comes to mind, other than the simplicity of human warmth, and so you lean once more into her embrace, head held aloft on the strength of her shoulder.

“Here, as I am now, is more than lovely enough. Your voice is soothing in any language, sweet as sugar, relaxing as can be,” you reassure her in your softest tone. Heart fluttering, she finds herself easing back into the comfort of the moment, forgetting all about her earlier woes. “Shall we read another?” Nodding, Bela again turns the page and begins to read:

He’s equal with the gods, that man Who sits across from you, Face to face, close enough to sip Your voice’s sweetness

And what excites my mind, Your laughter, glittering. So, When I see you, for a moment, My voice goes,

My tongue freezes. Fire, Delicate fire, in the flesh. Blind, stunned, the sound Of thunder, in my ears.

Shivering with sweat, cold Tremors over the skin, I turn the colour of dead grass, And I’m an inch from dying.

“Does that make me equal to the gods, then?” You ask, as soon as the last line is given its moment to shine. A small hum comes from your soulmate, who seems equal parts intrigued and confused. “I look in your eyes and my lungs light on fire, my heart ricochets around my chest, and I hear the chorus of angels singing your holy praises. The fact that I can manage to speak at all is confounding. Maybe the muses have seen fit to lend me their artistry, so that I might make conversation worthy of your existence, my dear.” With that said, you find yourself being squeezed gently, Bela placing another kiss against the top of your head. Now, it seems she is the one without the ability to speak. “The divine witnessing the divine, yes?... Let me read the next one, and we’ll see if my voice could ever compare to your own.”

It’s innocent enough, your choice. A turn of the page, just another poem, selected for nothing more than respect for chronology. Yet something drains from the space around you as you begin to read, so subtly slow that you hardly notice.

Girls, you be ardent for the fragrant-blossomed Muses’ lovely gifts, for the clear melodious lyre: But now old age has seized my tender body, Now my hair is white, and no longer dark

How were you to realize that the great shadow of fear loomed over your soulmate, when she had refused to name it mere minutes ago? How were you to know to halt your reciting, when the aching of her heart rendered her throat dry, and she could not bring herself to call out to you? Words poured like poisoned wine from your lips… your soulmate having no choice but to drink up every last drop.

My heart’s heavy, my legs won’t support me, That once were fleet as fawns, in the dance I grieve often for my state; what can I do? Being human, there’s no way not to grow old

A shaky breath from age-old lungs, exhaled into tense air, forced out past a trembling jaw. Say something, Bela tells herself, any poem but this. For a split second you pause, and she wonders if her thoughts have found new light in your own mind. But you break the momentary silence without much care, simply having been unsure of your pending pronunciation of an old name, perfectly unaware of your partner’s panic.

Rosy-armed Dawn, they say, love-smitten Once carried Tithonus off to the world’s end: Handsome and young he was then, yet at last Grey age caught that spouse of an immortal wife

At last her ordeal was over. The final words hang heavy in the air, weighing down her shoulders, but they are done. Her fears had been dragged out from the pit in her stomach, now waving about like dirty laundry. There was only one way for her to avoid this happening another time: Tell you the truth. By now her silence had earned your attention, with you turning in her lap again, concerned gaze meeting her hollow one. Gently, she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I… am not one to balk at the nature of things, however painful the truth. Yet I hesitate now, with the very person I am bound to with crimson ties… How cowardly of me,” Bela all but snarls, anger clearly not directed at you. It’s clear in the way that she holds herself that she has more to say. There’s not much you can do other than wait, though you do tuck an arm around her waist, beginning to rub soft circles against her back. “Allow me to drop the pretenses. You are not immortal, but I am. We’ve only been together for a day and a half, and already I’m worrying about your lifespan. It’s safe to say that this particular poem was an unfriendly reminder of our situation.”

Oh. How exactly were you supposed to respond to that?... Your girlfriend- your soulmate- was immortal. Hmph, as if her essentially being a vampire hadn’t already been enough to freak you out. Now this? Well, maybe it wasn’t too much farther of a stretch from the last revelation, even if you were still recovering from that one. Even then, something told you that this was equally hard for Bela- both to say, and to simply feel. As if she needed more stress surrounding her partnership with you…

“Of all the ways for us to mimic legends… I don’t even know what to say, my dear. I… I suppose that I can only reassure you that we will make the most of every moment we have. However much time we are destined to get, we’ll make sure it is filled with bliss,” you reply, slowly, making it up as you go. An ache builds in the center of your chest as you talk, an internal yearning for greater confidence. Although words were your “weapon” of choice, you were not always a master in your use of them, too human to be infallible. “Maybe we should set aside the poetry for now, shift our focus to something, ah, less meaningful?”

“That would be for the best,” Bela agrees, already shifting like she was going to stand up, before you even had a chance to get off of her lap. Something strange had fallen over her expression, an invisible veil, putting an uncomfortable distance between the two of you. Inside your chest, a thundering heart threatens to go still. Had you done something wrong? Did you commit some unspoken sin? Together the two of you rise, in sync yet more separate than before, a thousand questions and anxieties rendering both of you silent...

—————————

Across the room from you, a pair of bright eyes watch your every movement, peering out from over an open book. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that the “ruse” was intentionally poor. But for all the five hours you had known her, Daniela Dimitrescu had done nothing other than prove herself odd, clumsy, and quite possibly… overconfident. Admittedly, that still made her undeniably more pleasant than Cassandra. If you had to be stuck alongside someone other than your soulmate, well, ‘twas best that it was this strange redheaded gremlin. Even if she had expressed an unfortunate interest in eating you.

Gods, what is wrong with this family? You think, frowning a tad, unable to stop yourself from making eye contact with Daniela. Instantly she’s looking away, pretending to be engrossed within her book. The very same book that had remained open to the same page for half an hour now. I do hope Bela is having more fun right now, with whatever “business” called her away so unexpectedly. She hadn’t seemed happy to have to leave your side, earlier tension notwithstanding. Coming here to the library had been her suggestion, though you doubted she knew that Daniela was there, or at least hadn’t anticipated her sister’s unnerving behavior. Already the redhead was looking back at you, even less subtly than before.

Sighing, you decided that you could only put up with so much of this tomfoolery.

“Are you in need of something? Or is there something on my face?” You ask, setting your own book aside as you do. There’s a few moments of silence, as Daniela glances around the room, as if you might actually be speaking to someone else. When no scapegoats teleport to her rescue, she very awkwardly clears her throat, then moves to sit at your table. Though you are loath to admit it, your heart starts beating faster as she approaches. Not out of attraction, hell no, rather fear. Perhaps getting her attention hadn’t been the wisest choice after all…

“I just think it’s funny,” Daniela chimes, trailing off just long enough to run a finger down the length of your arm, “that Bela abandoned you so quickly. You’re so… fragile. Cassandra told me about the fun little introduction you had to our family- the blood loss, being chained up, the fear you felt when you got caught in our territory.” Suddenly she’s devolving into a fit of giggles, hand resting not-so-gently on your wrist. When you try to pull away, her nails dig in, and her gaze snaps back to your own. “But you don’t remember that part, do you? If you did… oh, we’d have to lock you up, like the little pet you are, to keep you from running away. I’m sure Bela wouldn’t mind seeing you in chains.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You snap, uncharacteristically furious. While it was true that you couldn’t recall exactly how you made it into the castle’s dungeons, you refuse to accept Daniela’s implications about your soulmate, or her assessment of your dedication. A brief second passes where you think she’s about to lunge towards you. Instead, she withdraws her hand, moving it to prop up her chin instead. Then, her lips slowly drag upwards into a wicked grin, wide eyes filled with dangerous amusement.

“So you’re more than a wannabe Shakespeare, after all? A bit more teeth, a touch more vulgarity, maybe a twinge of bloodlust, and you might actually fit in around here. Not enough to get our family’s ‘gift’- our secret to a long, happy life- but enough that Bela won’t grow bored of your sappy poems,” she teases with another string of laughter. Before you can question her about this ‘gift’, she’s all but jumping to her feet, stretching out her arms as she does. “I can’t wait to update Cassandra about you. We’ll be betting on how entertaining you’ll end up being. Try to keep from bailing on my dear sister too soon, alright?”

Just like that she’s disappearing into a swarm of flies, leaving you more confused (and angry) than ever. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on what you need to do next: Find Bela. Talk to her. Get some goddamn answers.