#dear lord I’m in the deep end aren’t I?

[onelonelyghost0]

hi, this is the dipreblogs person on my main blog- there’s some kind of symbolism in dipper being unable to hear his deadname. Like. People who cannot accept change are impure, and their impurity has transcribed itself in word form.

But you cannot hear that which is unclean.

Can you tell I’m crazy ab this show like. What if instead of a name, he heard static? Or perhaps a very low, hum? Would it hurt, or feel like nothing at all? Would it erase itself from his very mind? Could not even he recall? Does any mention bounces right off, like he never heard it?

OK OH MY GOSH YOU ARE ON MY BRAINWAVE TODAY!!

At first I only did this because finding a deadname for Dipper hurt, because I’ve gone by many names in my time and even the ones I’ve grown fond of hurt sometimes. I personally don’t mind my birth name but sometimes… yikes.

So, it spawned from that, and I figured with (spoilers so I can’t say just yet) he would only hear static, like radio static, because he wasn’t hearing what’s his name. This also ties in with the fact I’m making Fae cannon, because it shows that his deadname is no longer his name, therefore he will not respond to it.

I feel like the longer he goes without that name, the less he remembers it, like he can hear it when it’s used for other people but not when it’s for him, so he slowly forgets that he even had a different name to begin with. Maybe at first it hurts that he lost something he’s had since birth, almost like if he lost his sister, but then he realizes it’s like the umbilical cord, it had to be released.

And yes, I feel like the more eldrich the twins get the less likely they are to hear impurity, as you so aptly put it, or lies. Since Mabel is able to See people’s emotions, she can tell when something is genuine, or pure, and what isn’t, and selectively chooses who she interacts with based on that. The same with Dipper, he Knows people, he can tell when someone is lying, and why, if it’s fear or hate or something else.

But it also adds a layer, Dipper is scared because he Knows everything but the name he was born with, can he forget other things, like his morals? It’s why him and Mabel never separate, they keep each other sane.

But yes thank you for the ask bc I had this exact idea and you put it into words!! Thank you!!

[tadpolesonalgae]

Dark!Feysand x f!reader: Bloodied Wedding Bonds[***]

A/N: Anything relating to dark!feysand, I am 100% down to write it :)

Warnings: Forced marriage, fingering, smut, making of bargains?, sacrilege, squiring, non-con

Word Count: 4,211

It’s not your place to ask questions.

You know it’s not.

But when your clients are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, it’s a little difficult to keep your mind from wondering. A failing marriage? Marital disputes? Hedonism? None of your business. Your job is to please them, and that is all you should be focusing on.

From the fact alone that they’ve been continuously visiting you, asking after you for nearly a year now, seems to be enough evidence you’re doing well. You’d hope so. Anything they ask for, you give. Anything they want to try, you let them. Anything.

So when your High Lady tells you of a scene she—both of them would like to try, you obey.

————

You try to suppress a shiver as you step over the temple’s threshold.

A slight breeze plays with the hem of the elegant white gown that had been left on your bed, the veil fluttering across your concealed features, hiding the light dust of cosmetics you’d applied—a tint to your lips and cheeks, nothing else.

You jolt when you receive a pinch on the ass, but relax when his familiar wash of night finds its way to your senses. Powerful arms wrap around your waist, a strong, male chest pressing into your back, his chin curving over your head, “you look lovely, dear. White suits you well.”

A smile tips the edges of your lips as you twist your head, peering up into his violet gaze, “and here I was, thinking it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony,” you tut. His eyes gleam in the darkness, the corners of his mouth curving, “I simply couldn’t resist.” His hands grip your waist, and you’re flipped around, the swell of your breasts pressing softly into his chest, “you look so pure in white. I’m having a hard time not forcing you to take your vows bare.”

The shiver that runs down your spine is as real as he is, pleasure warming your skin as you lean in to him. “Isn’t a wedding all about intimacy?” You ask, smiling coyly, “I’m sure you’d be forgiven, Lord.”

A sound of deep, male satisfaction rumbles in his chest, arms tightening and you feel the delicious press of something hard over your abdomen. “Such a tease, aren’t you, darling?” His hand slides lower, cupping your ass and your spine arches. “Only for you two,” you murmur over his soft lips. Breath warms your mouth as he chuckles quietly, “good to know you’re a loyal whore.”

You bristle at the term, but he gives you an apologetic look, “wife.” Amusement glitters in his gaze and you wonder at the sincerity of his correction. “I’m not your wife yet, Rhysand,” you taunt softly, giving him a rueful little smile. This time his laugh is sincere, “I love that about you, you know?” Your smile fades as you peer at him curiously.

Naturally over the months you’ve developed a bond with them, but the kind you’re expected to have with all your clients. To make the transactions easier. You work better if you’re more attuned to them.

“What is it you love, Lord?” His smile widens as he spins you round, walking with you down the aisle, “that you think you have a say in whether you wed us or not.” You laugh at his joke and his arm squeezes you tighter. Pressed to his side.

The High Lady appears at the end of the aisle, and breath catches in your throat. Clad in a silky blue that borders on violet, she’s regal. Hair tied back and curled, a few strands framing the soft, beautiful planes of her face. Lips a rosy red, awaiting patiently as you’re led toward her.

She greets you with a kiss, and you follow obediently. Mouth parts over yours, her tongue sliding in. Rhys’ hands release you, yielding to his mate as he steps around to her side, leaning against the altar as he watches hungrily, arms braced on the hard surface.

“I’m sure he’s already told you how delicious you look in white,” Feyre comments, pulling back a little. You move after her, capturing her mouth again. She hums disapprovingly, but doesn’t scold you for it. Though she does land a light pat to your behind. A small sound whines in your throat; her kisses become more eager. Firmer.

It’s only when Rhys’ hands land on your hips you realise she’s been walking you backward, pushing lightly while keeping attached to your mouth so you drop into his lap. Your spine curves automatically as you feel the hot press of his cock against your backside, winding your hips lightly to give him some friction. Groans rumble at your back, and you melt between them.

Feyre’s tongue strokes over yours and you slide your hand over the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as Rhys moves your hips to his pleasure, using each other as you like. Her teeth nip your lip and you whine, jolting in a way that has Rhys moaning roughly. She’s getting rougher.

Nails bite into your hips; you hiss. The High Lord’s mouth opens over your shoulder, kissing and licking up the bare skin until he’s beneath your ear. Feyre’s fingers skim up your front, working in sync with her counterpart as they hook beneath the straps of your dress. The cold air bites at your nipples as the fabric falls away, quickly encompassed by her hot, wet mouth. Moans spill from your lips as you look down at your High Lady. Her round, blue-grey eyes watching you as her tongue does all sorts of wicked things that should not be done in a temple.

“Feyre,” you whimper, fingers tangling in her hair as she lightly pinches your nipple. She hums; Rhys’ hands slip between your legs, hooking them over his thighs. You lean forward, bracing on the altar beneath you as your spine curves, heat rubbing over his cock. Rough groans grace your ears in response, his hips buck, pushing you forward. “Such a fucking tease, aren’t you?” He grits out, finally putting his teeth in you.

Your eyes widen, then squeeze shut, tugging Feyre closer to your chest, praying for her to copy his movements. A squeal breaks from your lips as her canines scrape the sensitise skin, slowly trailing lower, lower, lower. Hands push away the white fabric with ease, and her mouth opens over your lace-covered heat.

You gasp—they usually tease you for much longer. But she’s giving in so quickly. Thrown off balance, grappling for stability while her tongue dances leisurely over your cunt. “Feyre,” you pant, “what are you—” Pushes underwear to the side. Tongue flicking over your clit.

Rhysand’s hands snake around your waist, grazing up your front. Pinches your nipples. “Don’t think,” he whispers softly at the shell of your ear. His fingers flick deftly over your sensitive skin, urging you to give into them, “just feel.” And by the Mother, you do.

She pushes your legs wider, pulling back only to remove the offending lace then her eyes are drinking you in. You open wider for her, and she moans softly. “Want my mouth, sweet thing?” She asks, pads of her fingers pressing on your inner thigh. Heavy puffs of breath exhale from your lungs, fire warming your veins with addictive pleasure.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes locking onto hers, “please.”

Her lips curve upward, making your muscles go weak with the dark promise. Canines scrape over your throat, and you’re dragged back to Rhys, so your attention is elsewhere when she bites your clit lightly. You whimper at the pleasure, hips bucking for more. She smiles over your cunt, teeth grazing the sensitive bud. One of Rhys’ hands glides up to cup your throat, tipping your head back, then sliding higher. Covering your eyes.

In the dark, it’s so much better. Imagination runs wild, infinite endings to this path they’ve sent you down. You can’t prepare for when Feyre bites and nips at that sensitive part of you, can’t tense for when Rhys pinches your nipple, tugging. Can’t keep in your soft yelp when one of them smacks between your thighs, the wet slap reverberating off the holy walls.

“Filthy thing,” Rhysand croons, and you flinch when two thick fingers slide between your legs. Feyre’s pulled away, making way for him as he plays with the wetness that’s coalesced there. “Rhys…” you plead softly, wanting him to slide up to his knuckles, curling against that spot he’s had memorised since the first time he’d touched you.

“What do you want, and how badly do you want it?” He purrs, circling your entrance teasingly. Your head tips back onto his shoulder, cool breeze washing over the exposed skin of your top and bare thighs. “I want you to fuck me with your fingers…” you breathe, panting with need.

His hand retracts, smacking down on your tender sex, catching your clit beneath his digits. You flinch, moaning sharply. “How bad, birdie?” He repeats, soothing the pained area with gentle rolls of his fingers, Feyre’s pink tongue helping with the stinging. Muscles melt, and your legs spread wider. “Anything…” you stammer softly, the word catching between your moans.

A low snarl of approval reverberates through his chest, picturing how his lip is curling to showcase perfect, sharp teeth. “Anything?” He repeats, intonation quirking with malevolent interest. “I wonder, how far would you really go for an orgasm?” He laughs lowly, closer to a growl, really.

“I’ll crawl wherever you ask me to,” you answer, and he snarls with approval. “Such a clever tongue,” he croons, fingers sliding down to your centre, again oscillating around your entrance. “Would you promise that to us?” He asks.

You nod drunkenly, too focused on how close his skilled fingers are to where you want them to pay close attention. He’d told you to feel, so you’re feeling.

Rhys hums at your back, then his fingers are retracting, spreading you wide for his mate as she dives back in, tongue lapping and flicking eagerly, suckling your tender clit.

“What about your cunt? Would you promise that to us?” He asks, hunger dragging beneath his question.

“It’s yours anyway,” you moan, spine curving as her tongue swirls over your sensitive bud, dropping lower to push against your sopping hole. He snarls again, and you know he’s pleased. “So well trained, aren’t you, little lynx?” He spits, hand still keeping you in darkness.

“What about you, then? Think that’ll be good enough?” Arousal spikes your pulse, Feyre’s precious little tongue pushing into you, desperate to taste you; be inside you in some way.

“Yeah…” you moan sweetly, winding your hips in encouragement as your clit begins to tingle with heat. His hand smacks down again, Feyre leaving just a moment before. You jolt, not knowing what you did wrong. You open your legs wider in attempts to soothe whatever wrong you committed, hoping if you accept more pain it’ll please him.

It’ll please you, too.

“Say it,” he snarls softly, teeth scraping over your ear as he again spreads you wide for his mate to sweep in. “Promise yourself to us. Prove you’re worth the orgasm.” Sweet pleasure blooms in the pit of your belly, pulse picking up at the danger. “I promise,” you whisper, the words a pained breath from your lips as he pinches your clit, Feyre’s tongue pushing into your hole. “More,” he growls, the demand making your hips buck.

“You—…I’m yours—! All of me…completely!” You whimper between your heavy pants. “I promise! I’m yours!”

His mouth fashions itself into a feline smile beside your ear, fingers finally circling over your clit, void of that edge of pressure. “Yeah? Mine and Feyre’s? Promise you’re ours? Belong to us?” Your heart flutters in your chest, fluttering between your legs, too. “I do…!” You whine, hips bucking, hands fisting atop the altar, “I do…I do! I do!”

Fingers and fangs switch place. Breath whooshes from your lungs.

Her teeth circle your clit, tongue flicking out, just as he sinks in up to his knuckles, dragging the pads of his fingers over those spots that make dark and light swirl in your vision. Eyes roll back into your skull, pleasure finally taking you by the throat as it slams you down. Spine arches, toes curl, mouth drops open.

No words come out as your body tenses, then melts, turns hot and liquid as you flow. Lap at the edges of your skin. Burning. Burning from within as fire scorches your blood, singeing your insides with pleasure so intense it blocks out the sting of the bargain, the promise not registering in your mind.

They hardly let you come down from your high before you’re being roughly tossed onto the altar. Barely a second passes between that last flutter of your cunt and the kick of pleasure as Rhys lines himself up, and slams in to the hilt.

The cold stone bites into your back, despite being covered by a veil of cloth. Light burns your quick-adjusting eyes, before being eclipsed as Feyre parts her thighs over you, smothering you as her heat covers your mouth, clit perched atop your nose.

Sense again leaves you, just the feel of Rhys slamming in, deep enough you can feel him in your stomach, pounding you into the sacred stone. Feyre’s hands tangle in your hair, roughly pulling you against her hips as she grinds over your face, her arousal making the drag over your mouth and nose easier, so she slides back and forth. “Stick that tongue out for me, birdie,” she moans, nails scraping over your scalp.

The words hardly register, pleasure numbing your senses while your eyes remain shut, basking in the wet glide of her heat over your lips; nose. She snarls, lifting up only her knees, looking down at you over her shoulder, landing a harsh pat to your cheek. Her fingers bite into your jaw, gripping tight, “open.”

Pain stings up your spine, buzzing in your head as your body follows her order, while your mind scrambles to keep up. Something had overtaken your will. Something had stolen your autonomy.

Heartbeat spikes, and you land three hurried taps to your High Lady’s hip.

Never once have you used your safe word with them. With others, yes. But never them.

Anything they’ve wanted, they’ve gotten. But right now, you’re panicking.

It’s the first rule of your occupation—under no circumstances are bargains ever to be brought into the establishment. They’re never to interfere with the relationship of prostitute and client. They’re too powerful to be messed with; you’ve always stood by that rule.

Feyre pulls off you almost instantly, Rhys’ hips halting a second later though his hands span the tops of your thighs. Panic blurs your mind as you push up onto your elbows, peering down your body. A dark ring of ink had ingrained itself on your stomach, outlining the circle of your belly. Fingertips drag the dark imprint, and you feel a little sick.

“Get rid of it,” you whisper. Your eyes flick to the High Lord’s, his own gleaming with something that has you shrinking back into yourself. Something dark and malignant.

“Rhys…” you pant softly. Breath catches, arms slide over your shoulders, Feyre’s thighs propping you up. Your head tilts backward, exposing your throat as you meet the blue-grey of her eyes. Rosey lips lift into a quiet smile, “you’re ours, now.”

A shudder that’s unrelated to the temperature shivers down your spine as you shake your head. “No…” you breathe. “No…we can’t—… Bargains are—”

“Shh…It’s okay, sweet thing.” Feyre strokes hair from your face, “it’s okay. You won’t get in trouble for serving us.” You simply stare at her, flicking from one blue-grey eye to the other, trying to recall the words of the promise.

“What—… What…?” In your mind, you’re trying to piece things together, broken bits of conversation. “No. I…I can’t, Feyre.” You look at her beseechingly, but she simply continues gently stroking your hair. Your attention turns on Rhys. He’s High Lord—he has to listen. “Rhys,” you say, voice managing to come out even; firm. “Rhys I can’t—… This is a line I can’t cross for you. Remove it.”

Violet flickers, stars winking out in places as he puts you under a hard stare. You raise your chin: this is something you can’t back down on. It’s a bargain for goodness sake.

“You would disobey your High Lord and Lady?” He asks. You blink.

“It’s not a matter of obedience. It’s a matter of respecting my autonomy. I do not want this bargain mark; I don’t even remember the terms. Remove it.” You sit up fully, back feeling cold as your arms wrap protectively over your front.

“You promised yourself to us,” he replies, eyes narrowing on you. “In return for your orgasm, you promised we could have you.”

Breath halts in your throat, eyes stilling on him. This can’t be happening. Fingers fist over the skin of your upper arms. “Free me from this bargain, or I will refuse to have you as clients. Either of you. It is well within my rights to do so,” you say firmly, despite how hard your heart is hammering.

The edges of his mouth quirk, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Lie back down,” he says, as if you’ve said something funny.

“Rhysand!” You snap, defensively pulling up the straps of your thin wedding gown. “This is serious,” you hiss, “you do not make a joke out of things like—”

“Lie down.” Violet drops to icy indigo, eyes hardening as your own widen, muscle complying wilfully. Grey-blue peers down at you, and your brows curve. “Feyre…” She smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Why are you smiling?” You manage, swallowing bits of your fear, “this is serious.”

Her thumb brushes your lips, pushing on the lower one gently, “you’re our wife now.”

Her hand grips your left gently, slipping that unique sapphire ring onto your forth finger—it fits, like magic. “We’ll do this properly another time,” she murmurs, cupping your cheeks. “Get you a proper ring, have a proper ceremony,” she whispers, thumbing away the wet streaks that are beginning to roll back into your hair. “But you’re ours now. That’s all that matters. So you don’t have to worry about being in trouble with that brothel, okay?”

Rhys’ hands tighten on your hips, slotting himself closer between your legs, his length resting hot and heavily over your wet cunt. Eyes tear away from blue-grey, piercing into violet, “stop. Stop that. You can’t do that.”

He smirks, drawing back, letting you feel the slow drag of his cock over your cunt. As it drags down to your centre, tip pushing at the soft dip between your thighs.

You shiver, eyes going teary as you stare at him. “Rhys…” you whimper. Nails digging into your palms while Feyre keeps her hands over your shoulders, pushing you into the stone of the altar.

Rhysand groans at the sound, pleasure drawling from his mouth, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet heat, bumping your clit. “Say that again, little lynx,” he orders. “Beg for me.”

The bargain crackles over your tummy and tears roll back. There’s no way out of this unless they release you. “Rhys…” you repeat, tongue forming the word all on its own. Adding the pleading undertone, too. As if you want it as much as they do.

Feyre’s eyes latch onto yours, hands cupping your cheeks as she leans down, kissing your glossy lips—glossy and smeared with arousal from her own cunt.

“How does it feel?” She asks softly over your mouth. “Tell me what it’s like having him inside you.”

More tears roll as your jaw opens on its own, ready to answer her question. “Feels good,” you whimper, brows curving with fear. “Filling me up.”

She makes a quiet sound of pleasure and intrigue in the back of her throat, before she’s planting another kiss to your lips, then—

Oh, gods.

“Open up for me,” she murmurs, thighs parting above you as she crawls to be above your face. “Let me feel that sweet tongue of yours again. She always makes me cum so well.”

Rhys presses in a little deeper, just so his head is inside your warm heat, pushing a whine from your lips.

Your mouth opens for her, tongue pressing over your lower lip so she can glide over you with ease, swipe her clit over the rough wetness of the hot muscle. She moans at the sight, lips lifting into a distinctly Feyre-like grin, “good girl.” Before her things widen, and she sinks down onto your mouth.

Tears roll back into the cloth that’s coating the altar as she uses you for her pleasure. Rhysand’s hips drag back, then push in roughly, shoving you further up the stone. Feyre winds over your mouth, finding her pleasure on your tongue.

“Go on,” she goads, sweetly. As if she isn’t degrading you to just a toy for her to put her cunt on. “Start licking. Like you mean it, too.”

The wet muscle flicks out and starts licking at her heat, just as Rhys picks up the pace, graduating from rough pushes to heavy poundings, slamming himself into your pussy until he’s buried to the hilt, creating a bump in your tummy.

Your High Lord groans, his hand splaying across the bulge in your abdomen, pressing down lightly as he fucks you into the sacred stone. “Such a lovely, warm cunt, huh?” He drawls, free hand gripping your hip. “Perfectly snug fit,” he snarls softly, “like you were made for us.”

Feyre whines as you suckle her clit, knowing well what types of sensations get her heating up, winding that coil tighter so she can soak your mouth. Your tongue pushes at her entrance, and she grinds against your face, hands playing with your nipples, pinching and flicking lightly while your own hands grip her thighs.

Rhys thumbs at your clit, drawing an embarrassing whimper from your throat. They both moan in response, Feyre tightening over your lips, needing to come on your tongue, needing to have her sex fluttering from your mouth.

His cock touches all those lovely spots, kissing and dragging over them, the slight curve enabling him to abuse them over and over, until you’re at the edge again.

“Come on, sweet thing,” the High Lady hums, grinding her hips over you, clit swiping over your tongue, sinking her entrance onto your nose as you suckle the sensitive bud. “Make me cum, won’t you? Make it so I’m coating your face, yeah?” She moans, and you cry beneath her.

Rhysand continues pounding into you, and with the feel of him inside your heat, the pad of his thumb playing with your clit, and her fingers on your nipples…you shatter.

Whines and moans spill from your lips, hips bucking wildly, trying to keep up with him while he slams into your cunt over and over until you’re being send scattering into overstimulation. He twitches inside of you, just as Feyre cries out, the liquid of her release spilling into your mouth just as Rhys does the same into your cunt.

You cry at the pleasure, white robe still adorning your skin, though it’s crumpled and wrinkled now. Fourth finger burning beneath the brand of the sapphire wedding band. Skin tingling where the bargain ink marks your skin.

Feyre moans loudly, the sweet sounds of her pleasure bouncing off the temple walls as she squirts, splashing over you as your eyes squeeze shut, continuing your attack to her sensitive, puffy clit, nipping at it whenever you can.

Hot spurts of Rhysand’s cum spill into you, both his hands gripping your hips to keep himself as deep as possible. “Such a good, well-behaved cunt,” he drawls, thumb swiping over your taut bud, muscles jerking at the sensation. “Think she’ll drink all of that up, huh? Keep it nice and deep? All tucked away like the greedy thing she is?”

More tears fall at the demeaning words, but there’s no time for sorrows as he pinches your clit tightly, making you flinch. “You’re forgetting part of your services, little lynx,” he purrs, making you whimper into her heat.

Reluctantly, holding back more tears, you manage to lift your shaky legs, bending at the knee so you can cross them round his hips, like you would normally do with whichever was between your legs that occasion. He groans with pleasure as you tighten your hold on him, keeping his cock deep inside your cunt.

The two of them lean forward, meeting above you as they taste one another, Feyre’s hips rock over your mouth, easing out her aftershocks while Rhys grinds himself against your heat, the tip of his cock dragging over that sensitive spot repeatedly.

You can’t stand the way they now touch you, with possessive ownership. Soft pathways trace onto your skin beneath their fingertips, as if stroking a pet to sleep.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022

Feysand Taglist: @girlmadeofavocados @zara-aliza

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter 9 of Lonely Remnants, “But in the end if I lose my voice, Will you forget about your love for me? But I still hold out hope that someday, I’ll be worth more than all the silence left in my way”, is here!

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS ATTACHED TO THIS CHAPTER BEFORE PROCEEDING. THIS CHAPTER IS PARTICULARLY ROUGH.

:)

Extras below!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are from “Canary in a Coal Mine” by The Crane Wives! It’s meant to be from mostly Lawrence’s perspective. (Also just a little bit of the Shoggoth.)

- “I weren’t even gone too long.” - I love Lawrence’s stupid accent!! Partially inspired by family members from the south, but also HEAVILY inspired by Benoit Blanc. He hid it most of the time, hence why it wasn’t too present in any flashbacks, but he is too confused and such to hide it here.

- “As per usual, the man tried to lift her and twirl her around.” - As mentioned many times previously, he did this often. Just wanted to highlight this :)

- Religious exclamations - Lawrence is not religious himself, but he was raised in a very religious home. He still uses a lot of the “lord have mercy” type exclamations anyways.

- “ “This… this weren’t how I wanted it to go…” “I know, I know.” “I-I wanted..” “Shh, we know. It’s okay.” ” - this dialogue was inspired by “Stay Alive (Reprise)” from Hamilton, because why not? More ouch!

- “… sniffling and wiping at his eyes with his shoulder.” - A skill I gained from years in food service, and Lawrence from various similar odd-jobs, is to use your shoulder to itch/wipe at your face when your hands aren’t available.

- “It seemed to hit him like a pistol in the eye.” - Taken from the lyrics of the song “Dear Arkansas Daughter” by Lady Lamb! Because OW.

- “M-m-” - you might think he was about to say “Mrs. D” here, but nope! He was about to say “mom”. Because he saw her as his mom. :)

- “… Barbara put the pedal to the metal, causing the dinky old car’s engine to groan and growl like it’s demonic inhabitant as it struggled to reach the higher speeds.” - Based on my own dinky little car. But mine’s not even that old!

- “There were no hazelnut-spread sandwiches left. As Lydia dug, she found all of the back-up chocolate they had packed was gone. No chocolate bars, no little Hershey's kisses, nothing.” - the Shoggoth got peckish.

- “The preteen swiftly went to dig through her bag, pulling out the motel towel the Shoggoth had squirreled away in there.” - They couldn’t resist stealing a few things.

- “She crossed her arms firmly over her chest, distantly aware that she was mirroring her father’s own mannerisms.” - See if you can catch all the similar mannerisms between them!

- “ “Lydia, these people-” “‘These people’ are my family!” ” - Realized after writing this that I’m accidentally quoting a very painful scene from “Dear Evan Hansen”.

- “You have a whole lot of nerve to show your face, Mr. Graham!” - Notice how he switched from calling him by his first name to calling him “Mr. Graham”.

- “ “Mmm.” The demon grunted, spitting out another mouthful of black and red, as well as a few teeth. His jaw seemed… crooked, almost loose. “Right as rain.” ” - Charles didn’t punch them that hard, the demon is already falling apart. But yes, he dislocated their jaw.

- “You couldn’t have just done us all a favor and driven your drunk ass head-first into a tree!” - We all sort of knew, didn’t we? Deep down. Still hurts to hear it.

- “The Shoggoth stared Charles down with some sort of resigned sorrow as he continued to yell, face beet-red.” - Hm. The Shoggoth makes a lot of this type of expression throughout the chapter. I wonder why?

Tag list: @raineisinkless @c0zmo-writes @musical-fiend @katslitterbox

(Want to be tagged in future updates for CorpseJuice / LoopJuice? Let me know!)

[lanitalay]

Among Flames and Starlight Chapter 7

a/n: i really wanted some fluff in this one but oh well

warnings: violence ( i keep the descriptions brief ), trauma

word count: 2k

Other Chapters

The stables had become Irene’s favorite place in the Autumn Court. She rode nearly everyday, only staying inside when torrential rain made riding unbearable. But if the skies were clear, Irene would be riding. At first it was just around the stables, getting to know the horses. Quickly, she started wandering off farther. She got lost one day, deep in the woods, the paths overgrown. Unable to find her way back. By chance, Lucien stumbled upon her. “What are you doing here?” 

“I got lost.” He sighed deeply. “Follow me.” 

That’s how Irene met Jesminda. The female was waiting for him at a small cottage. Lucien dismounted and Irene did the same. When he walked inside he was almost tackled to the floor by her. She kissed him deeply only stopped when Lucien pulled away to say “love, this is Irene. Irene this is Jesminda.” Her eyes widened and she stepped closer to Irene. 

“Lulu has told me many things about the new bride of Autumn, I’m sorry that you were… well what happened to you is unfortunate.” Irene nodded, “I don’t think Lucien has mentioned you before.” 

“He wouldn’t dare. If the High Lord finds out about us I’d be toast, isn’t that right, dear?” Lucien clarified for Irene “no one knows, but I trust that you’ll not say anything about this to anyone. Not even Eris.” 

“I won’t say a word.”

They were sitting by the hearth and drinking a spiced tea as Lucien explained to Jesminda why he had brought Irene along “she was out in the Cliff’s Edge Pass when I found her, too far to take her back and then come back out again.” 

“I’m glad you’re here Irene, us females need to have eachothers’ backs in this court.” 

Once the sun began to set Lucien announced they should head back, not wanting to ride in the pitch black forest. 

“It was lovely meeting you Jesminda, thank you for your hospitality.”

“Come by whenever you like, Irene, I need a break from Lucien every so often.” She teased and the male picked her up so fast she didn’t have time to let out a squeal of surprise before his lips were on hers. “I’ll be back soon, love.”

After that they would ride together to keep each other company even if Lucien insisted he was “only teaching her how to navigate the Court’s lands.” 

On the rare occasion it rained, Irene would read in her rooms or spend time with Mora. The Lady of Autumn had a calming presence and when the days were gloomy and storms raged outside and in Irene’s mind she would be soothed by her demeanor. Often discussing the books they were reading over tea or just sitting in silence by a crackling fire. 

Most days, she did not see Eris. To avoid Beron, she would have all her meals in her rooms or take a picnic on her rides. She only visited the library on the far end of the house, nowhere near his room or his study. Eris would spot her riding and sometimes they’d see each other in the library. “That’s my spot.” He had said when he found her in an alcove behind the section that housed all of the fiction books. Eris looked annoyed, he was carrying a book and had allotted himself an hour to read in peace when he found Irene in the very spot he wanted to be. 

“I was here first.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be galavanting with Lucien?” 

Irene pointed to the window that was being pelted by harsh rain. “Not in this weather. We both fit here, let’s just share.” 

Eris thought about it and reached the same conclusion she had. His rooms were getting stuffy and this was one of the few places his father or his brothers wouldn’t bother him. So he sat next to her, on the far end, creating as much space between them as he could. They stayed like that until the sun set and Irene got up “I’ll see you around, Eris.” 

She was doing fine, she really was. Nightmares about being paralyzed or being burned by Beron would wake her up nearly every night, but she always managed to get back to sleep. The nights when sleep was impossible, a weight on her chest so large she could swear her ribs would crack, Irene would plot. She’d indulge herself with fantasies of the High Lord of Night’s head on a stake. Ideas of pulverizing him and spreading his ashes on piles of manure. Then she’d think of Beron’s punishment, driving an ice stake through his heart seemed an interesting approach. If fire runs through his veins he must enjoy the heat and Irene wanted his last moments in this world to be filled with pain and discomfort. Lastly she would think of how to get her mother out of the prison, but that always came with a wave of grief. 

Irene was perfectly fine.

Until she realized Starfall was two weeks away and the nightmares were not of her recent horrors, but of more ancient ones. 

That night, after leaving the library and eating alone, Irene fell asleep and dreamt of the first Startfall without her family. She remembers fragments, gaps looming over her memory. After crying most of the day, Victoria went into her room and forced her to get out of bed. “You don’t have to go to the party, we can just look at it from the window or something.” 

Decades later Irene wasn’t sure what Victoria’s intentions were that night. Maybe it was prepubescent contempt and the desire to not be surrounded by only her brother and his friends. Or maybe it was that she had gotten lonely after months of Irene isolating herself and it was an attempt at reviving her only friend in the world. But Victoria pulled Irene out of her room that night and Irene was forced to reckon with the fact that her world had been destroyed but life was still happening. 

The two girls sat huddled together by a large window and watched the sky come alive. For those moments, Irene felt a break from the crushing weight on her heart. They did not talk for a while, Irene was still bristled from being torn from her bed. 

“No one likes him.” Victoria broke the silence. “I know Rhysand doesn’t like him, neither does my mother and I hate him.” 

“I hate him too.” In her too small heart she harbored undiluted hate for the male and hate was easy. She could hate him without trying, hate him in her sleep. After Starfall was over and the girls went back into their rooms, Irene slipped into the kitchen to find something to eat. 

She heard footsteps for a split second. Then, the light vanished. Darkness enveloped her but she was not asleep. Hadn’t fainted either. It pressed against her and restricted her airflow. She was suffocating under the weight of the universe. At that moment, she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Considering that maybe she had died and this was the painful passage to the next life. It could have been minutes or hours later, but Celene walked into the kitchen to find that her mate was strangling Irene with an onyx mass. 

The Lady must have sent something down the mating bond, or yelled hard enough that the High Lord snapped out of whatever compelled him to attack a child. Irene was frenzied, gasping for air and frantically clawing at her chest, like she wanted to rip out her heart and soothe it with her hands. 

That was the night her hate turned to fear. That was the nightmare that woke her up, all these decades after. 

The next few days were spent in a blur of sleeplessness. Irene could not bring herself to close her eyes. She kept a candle burning in every corner of the room and the curtains all the way open. Eating was difficult again. Mora asked what was the matter, “what can I do to help?”  Irene could not explain to her that the nightmares that kept her up and were slowly making her insane. She couldn’t find the words. 

Then Lucien visited her room and insisted that she sleep. “You look terrible and this room is a mess” he pointed to the piles of melted wax on the floor, the stale bread on the little table she ate and the bedding strewn on the mattress. “I can’t sleep.” He sighed “yes you can Irene, and you have to.” She refused. Lucien left and an hour later Eris walked through the door. 

“Hello.” Irene looked back at him from her chair by the window. “Hi.”

“I’m told you are not well.” She did not respond. “Something about not sleeping or eating?” 

“I can’t.”

He was still by the door, not stepping further into her room. “Why not?” Silence. “Irene, no matter how much of a fuss you make no one is going to come rescue you.”

“I know.” 

“Then sleep, eat.” He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the short red locks. “Or rot away. It's your call.”

“Nothing has ever been my call, Eris. I’m stuck in this prison of a Court with a husband as a chain.” 

“No one is forcing you to stay in this roo-” he stopped speaking as she stood up from her chair. He saw her for the first time since the library and was taken aback at how dark the circles under her eyes were. How gaunt her face. She roared at him, and her eyes, bloodshot and wild, piercing his own. 

“Damn it Eris! I can’t go back home anymore! I can’t be with my family because I’m married to you! I’m nothing more than a stupid political hostage and you know it.” 

He did not need a reminder that his wife was a mere punishment. That she resented him just as much as he resented her. 

“Are you really that stupid? You were a hostage there too. If your precious Rhysand loved you or cared for you in any meaningful way he wouldn’t have let you marry me. You are a fool for wishing to be back there.”

“I’m more of a prisoner here.” 

“Here you have a title. Here you are the sole Princess of Autumn.”

“This house is a prison”

“The entire Night Court is a prison!” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can rot in this room for all I care. But that’s your choice.”

“No it 's not. None of this is my choice! You, this mariage, this bloody title!”

“Look around! No one chose to be here! I was born into it, so was my father and so were my brothers. My mother was married into it, you’re not special. But you are choosing to waste away and, whatever your reasoning is, it's stupid.”

“Fuck you.”

“Pathetic.”

She couldn’t disagree. So she remained silent. 

He had nothing else to say. So he left. 

Eventually exhaustion won. She passed out on the chair and more nightmares came, each one worse than the last. How the High Lord would take her out of her room at night and experiment. First with suffocation, but then he tried to drown her, to lash her, he tried carving out her organs but could not get through a protective layer beneath her skin. He grew frustrated with all his blades ricocheting off her. When he was tired of trying he would return her to the room, drop her on the floor and think of new ways to try and end her. He tampered with her mind. Creating a permanent spot in her memory for the nights they spent together and forbidding her from speaking them aloud.

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams

[huorror]

interview

“...A visitor?”

It is not unusual to see visitors in the Parlor Car of the Astral Express. No, that’s not the unusual part. What is unusual is the morose young Foxian girl sitting on one of the couches, legs dangling off the side. Her dark eyebags hardly suit her otherwise youthful countenance and she seems to be mumbling to herself.

Ah, no use beating around the bush! The poor girl’s tail is on fire and she hardly seems to notice, much less care! It might not be burning the seat and there’s no smell of burning flesh, but surely it must hurt tremendously!

“Excuse me,” the hapless crew member can’t help but attempt to offer their assistance. “Do you perhaps need—”

The girl jolts out of her seat at the approach, ears and cowlick flopping as she bows deeply. The hat atop her head begins to slide off until she hurriedly puts it back in place.Standing up suddenly, her knees tremble like a newborn fawn. Her tail flicks (a sign of annoyance in Foxians, at odds with her timid demeanor), but the flame remains burning ever bright.

Her voice pitches upward, “I-I’m sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I?! It’s just so relaxing here… b-but I can go back if you need me to!”

Oh dear.

The deep commanding voice of a man with no clear source resounds through the car, “Stand up for yourself, you spineless girl! You were here first! Don’t let a mere human push you around!”

“B-but Tail…” The girl mumbles, wringing her hands.

Oh… oh dear. She’s talking to her tail, which is on fire. A bona fide weirdo, this one. Whatever is going on here is far outside the scope of an average crew member, but they’ve already initiated the conversation. They’d never hear the end of it if they just left a visitor in trouble, especially when they can feel the Conductor glaring daggers.

An awkward customer service smile rises to the crew member’s face. For the sake of their paycheck, they must follow through…!

“Are you perhaps… having trouble relaxing in your daily life? Is there something you’re not content with, Miss…?”

“Oh!” The girl seems to realize she has neglected to give her name, tired eyes widening. “H-Huohuo! I’m Huohuo and this” —she gestures to her tail, who huffs in response— “is Tail. And um, to tell you the truth, I’ve actually… been trying to quit my job.” “Trying?” Tail scoffs. “Her resignation letter never gets anywhere even close to the desk! Can you even call that trying?”

“Your job? Where do you work?”

Looking so ragged for one so young, it definitely has to be retail.

“I—I’m a newbie judge of the Ten-Lords Commission. My job is subduing evil spirits.”

The crew member’s eyes nearly bulge out of their skull. She’s not just some weird kid with a talking tail, but one of the judges! A sudden rush of relief washes over them that they had not voiced their thoughts of her looking like a helpless child or that they found her tail quite unnerving.

 “Ten-Lords?! You must be very strong, Miss Huohuo!”

Huohuo waves her hands frantically, “N-No, not at all! I’m not cut out for the job at all! I’m afraid of evil spirits, but they still make me go out and catch heliobi anyway! I’m sure they just promoted me by accident! Besides, Madam Hanya and Madam Xueyi are always helping me out… I wish I was even half as brave as them…”

“Bah!” Tail spits. “Forget them, this wimp is always crying for my help! You should hear her, always crying, ‘Save me, save me!’ Without a powerful heliobus like me by her side, she would have been consumed by some weaker spirit long ago. I keep her out of trouble!”

“N-no, you’re the one who gets me into trouble! Every time I try to run away, you just send me right back towards the enemies!” Huohuo sighs and puts her head in her hands. “I’m probably going to spend the rest of my life as the Ten-Lords Commission’s resident scaredy-cat… There goes Huohuo, cursed one and chicken extraordinaire… None of the movies I’ve been watching have helped at all, either. I really should resign, after all.”

“Bahahaha! You really think those are gonna help you develop some guts?! Experience is what you need! And that means fighting!”

The host and parasite comedy duo continue bickering between themselves, crew member entirely forgotten. Taking advantage of the chance, they slip away quietly. Paycheck be damned, dealing with a Ten-Lords judge and her pet heliobus is way above their paygrade! If someone else wants to step in, by all means, be their guest!

By the time they’re several cars over, an anguished cry can be heard in the distance.

“Ahhh! My vacation time is over! I-I don’t wanna go back to work…”

[undermounts]

bite the hand - chapter 4: false idol of mine

pairing: Astarion/The Dark Urge

summary: Astarion helps her hide the body. Romance ensues.

chapter preview:

The following evening, there is a devil in their campsite.

And it isn’t Karlach.

Read it on Ao3

The next morning, Astarion’s tribunal ends without bloodshed, much to Irileth’s immense relief.

It comes a little close once (Lae’zel unsheathing her greatsword, she holds it like an executioner’s axe—‘Bloodsucker!’) but cooler heads prevail. Namely Wyll’s, of all people.

“At ease everyone,” he says placatingly. “There is no need to spill blood on peaceful ground.”

“I’m sorry, but aren’t you some sort of monster hunter?” Gale interjects, frowning. “I feel as though I am experiencing a disconnect between that title and what is taking place here.”

“Monster,” Lae’zel clarifies. “So, hunt. Our course of action seems quite clear to me.”

“Vampire he may be, but Astarion is no beast,” Wyll explains. “He’s just a spawn. I’m more concerned about his former master.”

“Just a spawn?” Astarion echoes, miffed. But he bites his tongue when Lae’zel’s reaffirms her grip on her sword. “Of course. There are, as they say, bigger fish to fry. I will happily point you in the right direction. A gesture of goodwill, Wyll. ”

Oh, dear gods, Irileth thinks, vexed. Astarion truly is dedicated to his own demise.

“I didn’t say you were harmless,” Wyll retorts and it is clear from his tone that he doesn’t mean that as the compliment Astarion surely thinks it is. “I am only saying being a spawn does not automatically equate to being completely evil. Many are turned without their consent.”

Astarion sneers. “My, my, aren’t you well informed.”

“If you are evil,” Wyll continues, “you can rest assured knowing that I will not let you roam free. For now, consider this your probation. You’d best behave yourself.”

On and on it goes until Astarion is left alone, thoroughly scrutinized but ultimately unstaked. And for all of the threats he received, he looks remarkably unbothered. Smug even. Across the clearing, he meets Irileth’s gaze and smirks.

She’s moving toward him before she’s even realized. Damn it.

“That went quite well, don’t you think?” Astarion says glibly as she approaches. He gestures to himself. “No wooden stakes in my heart. Today is shaping up to be a splendid day.”

“You are certainly in a good mood,” Irileth replies, giving him a once over. Again, looking at him now in the full light of day, the change in him is subtle but considerable. He stands taller, prouder, and not (only) in the arrogant, preening way he did before, when he still pretended to be a noble. He is confident. Secure.  

“Why wouldn’t I be? I feel incredible. Powerful. Ready to take on the world!” He grins, laughing lightly, and closes his eyes.  His words become more hushed as he continues on, voice full of so much wonder. “I’ve imagined it so many times, but I never thought…I never thought it would feel like this. That I could feel like this.”

“Blood really has this sort of effect on you?”

“Yours does, certainly,” Astarion teases, and his gaze is lidded when he looks at her. “Animals, beasts… not nearly so much.”

“It’s no wonder Cazador forbid us from drinking it.” Astarion suddenly looks away and his fingers fumble with the metal fastenings of his new gloves. His resentment is made clear in the tense lines around his mouth and the deep furrow of his brow. “Why waste perfectly good blood on a bunch of slaves?”

Cazador. Master.

Irileth saw glimpses of the vampire lord through Astarion’s mind last night, though she never got a full look. Oil slick hair, grey skin, and glowing red eyes. She can hear his voice, though there are no distinguishable words, only an aura of malice.

(Gods help the wretch if she ever finds him; she will crack his chest wide open and construct a shrine with his ribs.)

“But I’m not his slave anymore,” he says fiercely, more to himself than her. “I’m free. Conveniently lost. And I’m never going back. Now,” he adds, looking at her, “you all know what I am. Which means I can fight with everything at my disposal—fangs included.”

His smile is all teeth and challenge, which reminds Irileth of the question that has been floating about her head ever since she awoke that morning. “How often do you need it? Blood from people.”

“Mmm, hard to say, really,” he hums, shooting for nonchalant as he examines his cuticles. “Depends on what we do. If we’re just traveling, engaging in some light fighting from time to time?” A shrug. “Then a little nibble every now and then will do just fine. Perhaps when a ripe neck presents itself in a fight?” 

Irileth raises a brow. “And if we’re pushing it?”

Astarion’s eyes are intent on hers. His voice drops to a low tenor, purring, “Then I’ll take anything and everything I can get.”

How quickly his moods change! It is nearly dizzying, but despite herself, Irileth feels her insides turn molten. Her brain positively lights up with the fresh memory of him pressed into her back, teeth in her neck. How Astarion groaned when he first pierced her skin, mouth full with the taste of her.

Astarion smiles like they are indulging in the same memory. Then, he reaches out and brushes Irileth’s hair off of her shoulder with a feather light touch. Just when she thinks he is going to caress her neck and the tender marks that still sit there, his fingers alight on the buckle of her armor, adjusting the strap. 

With truly—cursedly—impeccable timing, Wyll calls out from the edge of camp where he and Lae’zel stand ready to depart. Irileth must be unwittingly glaring at Astarion because he laughs lowly as he pulls away, all melted sugar and rich smoke. 

“Let’s go hunt a devil, darling,” he purrs with his trademark, sinful smirk. “I think it’s high time for you to see just what you’ve done to me, too.”

A little blood, it seems, goes a long way.

With ease, they tear through the gnolls and bloated hyenas that roam in pockets around the Risen Road. Irileth sees now that before Astarion had supped of her blood, he wasn’t even close to reaching his full potential. Being well fed has made him stronger. Faster, too. Better.

He doesn’t fight like she does. Dancing through the thick of it; she waffles between striking where she is most needed and appearing where she is least expected. Prior to last night, Astarion mostly kept to the edges of a fight, but now he dips in and out of the fray—unseen arrow, hidden knife. 

It delights Irileth every time his arrow pierces the throat of a beast in her radius, or whenever he drops down from his vantage point, a dark blur limned in silver, and drives his daggers into the back of her immediate foe, priming her death blow. 

Lae’zel and Wyll are terrors in their own right. Lae’zel’s unflagging stamina and devastating swings complement Wyll’s concentrated blasts of magic to wheedle the gnolls down. But the two rogues working in tandem are the pressure point upon which the hordes break.

The whole thing is glorious, if not a little repulsive (hyenas whimper-writhing, distended bellies bulging, bursting!) and provides some very fascinating insight into the other uses of their illithid stowaways. When they find the gnoll pack leader, the tadpole twitches, pulses, and Irileth forces her way into her mind without hesitation. She sees the creature’s insatiable hunger, her spoiled devotion to the Voice. 

(A bloodied handprint smeared across a slab of stone, it melts into a skull. They yearn to eat the world whole, but the Voice is unrelenting, all encompassing. Absolute.)

Poor, loathsome creature. It would be kinder for Irileth to just kill it, kill it like she has killed all the rest. But the urge within gnashes its teeth. 

If you are so hungry, Irileth coaxes into the pack leader’s mind, forcing it to turn its attention to its remaining fellow gnoll hunters, to see them from a new, bloodier perspective. Then feast.

The following evening, there is a devil in their campsite.

And it isn’t Karlach.

Wyll is bound to Mizora, a gods damned devil, member of the Archdevil Zariel’s inner circle. Selfishly, Irileth feels betrayed. She had hoped… He is supposed to be a hero. Pride of the Gate. The Blade of Frontiers.  

And now? Now, Irileth doesn’t know.

Serves her right, she supposes, for being so naive as to fall for his chivalrous and heroic persona. A facade, she thinks bitterly—all of it. Astarion would tell her that she is the worst kind of fool—the hopeful kind—for actually believing that once Wyll completed his hunt and was freed of his duty, he would transform into some sort of knight in shining armor, just like in his stories, and put everything to rights. In the end, she is just as responsible for her own disappointment, for believing that Wyll—that anyone else—could save her.

This is quickly becoming a trend, it seems: her being repeatedly tricked by her companions into seeing one thing while reality is quite another.

After Mizora vanished in a blazing puff of fire and smoke, Wyll retreated from the heart of camp to sulk alone by the river. Irileth studies his unfamiliar silhouette, the new horns that curl back from his head.

“Poor guy,” Karlach sighs, kicking the dirt. “Mizora’s a nasty one. There is literally no one in all of Avernus more unpleasant than her. Except Zariel. Fucking devils man.”

At least one good thing came out of all of this, Irileth reminds herself. Karlach’s presence burns beside her, heat rolling off of the barbarian in waves. Irileth maintains what she thinks might be a safe distance, eyeing the flames that lick off of Karlach’s red skin. They’ve all seen first hand today just how hot Karlach can burn, and she has no intention of feeling it as well (even though a part of her fantasizes about it, craves it).

Irileth and the others watched from the road as the toll house smoldered to ruins. The sound of wood snapping and glass shattering echoed from within, and above it all, there was Karlach whooping and hollering in all of her frenzied rage.

“I’m free! Free! AhaHAHAHAHAHA! And I’m NEVER. GOING. BACK! ”

“You’re taking all of this in stride,” Irileth replies now, picking at the side of her thumb. It eases some part of her, to have something to do with her hands. Due to her personal commitment to keep her blades sheathed at camp, she has resorted to this: clawing up her own skin like an undisciplined child.

“It’s hard not to,” Karlach answers, and, evidently also not one to keep still, she bounces from side to side on the balls of her feet. “Don’t mean to monologue, but you’ve got no idea what it’s like, soldier, to finally be free of the Avernus after ten. Long. Years! ” She laughs triumphantly again. “And Wyll! Gods, I’ve gotta be honest—I’m reeling. He barely knows me, and still! He chose my life over his. Been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me.”

Irileth raises her brows. “You don’t think he’ll go back on his decision? Go back to hunting you to get back into Mizora’s favor?”

“Nah. No way.” Karlach waves her hand dismissively. “I’ve spent years dealing with cambions and their ilk. I know how to identify a liar and a swindler. Wyll is a good man. When he was chasing me through Avernus, I thought he was just another sad merc. How wrong I was.”

That gives Irileth pause. They have drastically different interpretations of tonight’s revelations, it seems. Maybe—no. Amiable as Karlach is, Irileth doesn’t want her opinions to be swayed so easily. This is her weakness, she has come to realize: her dependence on her companions’ insight and information to fill in the yawning chasm of her memory. But how to avoid it, when her cratered brain is filled with so many holes?

“So… You wanna give Wyll a pep talk, or should I?” Karlach asks, picking at bits of ash that are speckled around her broken horn, caught in her hair. Then, she drops her hands, swinging her arms around. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your inner dialogue or whatever. You were staring at him for a while, though.”

Irileth shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. Hells, is she tired today. Irileth, in fact, does not want to give Wyll a pep talk. What Irileth wants is to crawl into her tent, and sleep for an age. But wounds fester and Wyll is practically bleeding shame everywhere.

“I’ll talk to Wyll,” she decides wearily. As for that pep talk? She’ll see. 

“Oh, and Karlach?” Irileth halts in her tracks, turning around.

“What’s up?”

“We’ll find you a mechanic as soon as possible,” Irileth promises her. “We’re going to fix your heart and get you home.”

Karlach’s grin is even brighter than her flames. “I appreciate you, you know that? Gods, I would smooch that little face of yours if I didn’t think I’d melt it off! First Wyll, and now you—this is the best day ever.”

Irileth smiles at Karlach’s back as she goes bounding over to where the rest of their party sits around the campfire, chatting and eating their rations. It’s only been a handful of hours, but everyone adores Karlach, Irileth included. There is such a light about Karlach, and Irileth cannot help but be drawn in by it; why anyone would try so hard to subject her to so much darkness is beyond Irileth.

“Karlach, my fiery friend!” Astarion looks up when Karlach joins the circle, and his fangs glint in the low light as he exclaims, “Settle a debate for Lae’zel and I, will you? In your opinion, what is the best way to kill a devil? I’m thinking it’s beheading.”

How adorable. The camaraderie that has sprouted up amongst her companions is so sweet it makes her sick. Irileth hurriedly turns away from the others and her smile melts from her lips, vision rimming with red.

Beheading, she muses. A quick death. Too quick. As she makes for the river, Irileth can’t help but wonder: would Karlach’s head still burn if severed from her body?

“Oh. Irileth. You startled me.” Wyll’s head snaps up when she approaches his spot on the riverbank. Illuminated by the light of the full moon, their reflections warp and ripple in the swift moving water—hers pale and ghoulish, his dark and distorted. Wyll gestures to the fallen tree behind him. “You’re welcome to sit, though I’m afraid I will make foul company tonight.”

“Foul company. Is that because you’re in a pact with a fiend?” Irileth asks bluntly as she ignores his offer and stands above him with her arms folded. She’s being unfair, she knows that. But it still smarts, the darkness she feels that she has been left in, without a guiding light.

“You don’t mince words, do you?” Wyll laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. “I was referring to my presently poor attitude, but that too.”

Irileth is angry with him and she doesn’t quite know why. Or rather, she does know why, but not how to articulate it. Wyll doesn’t know the sadistic thoughts that churn in her vile little head. After all, Irileth has tried in vain not to let her sickness show, fearing what her companions might do to her (and what she might do to them in return) if they saw her true, darkest self. How to tell him—that she is mad at him for failing to rescue her before he even knew to try? 

Instead, she draws up something one of their companions (Gale, she thinks) said after Mizora disappeared and Wyll retreated to isolation, tail tucked between his legs in shame. “If there’s a devil at the other end of your leash, she was bound to come around sooner or later.”

Wyll only winces and nods despondently, contemplating his strange reflection before him.

“You should have mentioned your pact, Wyll,” Irileth adds, but the rebuke falls flat on her own ears. 

(She thinks of Astarion, unbidden: ‘I spent two centuries at someone else’s mercy.’ He needs someone to blame; this too, cannot also be his fault. ‘You can see why I didn’t trust you at first.’ )

They all have their reasons for keeping secrets, she supposes.

“Did it hurt?” Irileth asks when Wyll still does not rise to her bait, gesturing toward his new appearance. Sharp ridges of scar tissue-like flesh cut across his cheekbones and down his neck, looking for all the world as if someone had snatched Wyll up and carved a crude set of gills into his skin. Even his remaining good eye has been changed to something demonic: inky black scleras that encroach upon a ring of brightest red.

“When Mizora sent me through the Hells? Yes. More than anything I have ever felt before,” Wyll says bitterly, lips twisting with disgust as picks up a stone along the shore and rubs it between his fingers. “But now? The only thing my appearance harms now is my pride. A petty punishment from my petty patron.” His mouth suddenly forms a snarl. “Gods damn her!”

Irileth is silent as Wyll lobs the stone into the river, scattering his warbled reflection into tiny shimmering droplets. He whirls on her, teeth bared with disgust and pain. “Look at me! I did what was right, and Mizora punished me for it. When I made my pact, we had an agreement: I would be hunting devils and demons, traitors and hypocrites! Heartless evils—not Zariel’s victims, not innocent tieflings.”

Then, evidently exhausted by his outburst, Wyll sags forward like a puppet cut from his strings, resting his arms on his knees.

“You must think me a sham. And you would be right.” The moonlight glints off the ridges of his curled horns as Wyll hangs his head dejectedly. “It’s Mizora who grants me my power, but even that is a shadow of what it once was, now that we’ve been tadpoled. By the Helm, what have I become?”

Irileth feels a pang of sympathy (Soft-hearted whelp! She should cut that thing out—quick! Before it cleanses her foul and festering rot!) and her resolve against Wyll defrosts. He looks so miserable, like a wounded dog.

“Why did you make the pact with Mizora?” Irileth questions, because for some reason, it is important to her, to know how the Blade really came to be, and how much of him is real. 

She wants to know how badly she misunderstood him.

“Because I had to,” Wyll states firmly, clutching his hand to his chest. “I told you before—of the time I realized the Coast needed a defender. The realm is too big for one man alone; what is a lone rapier to a horde of goblins? A band of cultists? I needed to be more. Someone who could actually help.”

“I understand that, but was there truly no one else you could have bargained with?” Irileth grapples blindly for any information she knows about warlocks and pacts, though of course, she comes up nearly empty handed. “A different being. The archfey?”

“It’s not that simple, and I’m afraid I cannot do much to clarify.” Will sighs wearily although his expression remains kind, if not a touch wry. “Literally. I am forbidden by my pact to tell you the details of how it came to be. Just know that my deal with Mizora was not sought prior, nor was it expected. If there is anything to be learned from my sorry tale it is that devils only come when there are no other options, and not a moment before.”

“So, what? Mizora forced you into your deal?” She wants him to say yes.

“I only wish I could be as blameless as you think I am. But no.” Wyll unsheathes his rapier and holds it up, the sharp blade like quicksilver beneath the moon. Irileth catches his reflection in it, his new devil-marked eye. “Mizora may have forced my hand, but I still decided to make the pact. Because someone had to. Everything I have done since has been for the good of the people. And so I cannot regret it, not even now.”

Wyll turns away from his reflection, closing his eyes. “No matter what kind of horror she has made me into.”

Slowly, over the course of Wyll’s confession, Irileth’s anger deflated; now, it abandons her entirely. Hells. 

When they first met, Irileth had thought him unflappable. Unchangeable. She’d looked upon the Blade of Frontiers, saw his easy confidence and warm smile, and thought that this was a man who not only knew no shame, but also never had reason to know. She’d never considered him to be capable of holding such regret nor so much self-loathing. 

No, she hadn’t been that kind. She didn’t want him to be more than what she thought he was. 

Now, Irileth lowers herself to sit beside Wyll and lightly touches her hand to his shoulder. Wyll looks up in surprise.

“You’re still you, Wyll,” Irileth tells him, although a part of her recognizes she is convincing herself as much as him. “Horns or no, you’re still you.”

She wants to believe in the Blade of Frontiers. She wants to believe that some things can still be saved, even if she isn’t one of them.

Wyll stares at her, a bit starry eyed. Then he smiles sadly and puts his hand over hers. “I’ve let you down, Irileth. I know that.” He sighs heavily, then releases her to put his hand over his heart once more. “But I promise, I will make it up to you. You have my word.”

Irileth withdraws, a protest on her lips. She is at once flattered and… disquieted by his vow. He should not be beholden to her, no one should—it is too much pressure, to be the person someone looks to for approval and guidance.

Irileth squirms. She really had been unfair to Wyll from the start.

Fortunately—or maybe, unfortunately—Irileth is spared from responding. Something snaps in the brush behind them, and in an instant, both Wyll and Irileth are on their feet. Wyll, having already drawn his blade, steps forward, placing himself between camp and their unseen interloper.

Irileth is unarmed, but she knows—oh she knows that her hands require no daggers to reap death. (Open palm and fingers splayed, all the better to feel the sternum crack.)

“Show yourself!” Wyll demands, and (bless him, he still thinks she needs protecting) gestures for Irileth to stand back. “I’ll not suffer any sneaks or thieves tonight.”

His rapier begins to shimmer with green fiendish power and eldritch energy swarms around his clenched fist, ready to fire.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Someone—a familiar voice—shouts, and a woman stumbles forward out of the shadowed forest. A jumble of color, pale blue and purple, like the leaves of an autumncrocus flower. “It’s me!”

Alfira.

[quibbs126]

I decided to start drawing my favorite Cookies

These aren’t all of them, but I didn’t want to put too many without the canvas getting super stretched, so I just put three of them. However I do plan on doing more of them, so this is Part 1

Aight, let’s get into it

Dark Choco Cookie: he’s quickly become a hyperfixation for me, mostly due to him checking off my list for hyperfixation character traits (mainly tragic backstory, tragic family drama, at some point an antagonist). But anyways, I just like this cookie, his backstory’s really tragic, and as I said, I hope he’s able to find happiness by the end of the story.

Also, I drew this the day before the Holiday update, but from what I can gather (I haven’t gotten there yet because I’m out of Baker’s Piping Bags) it seems like this may very well be true

Though, I do have to say, his voice acting doesn’t always hit it for me? Sometimes it sounds a bit like a Batman impression and I can’t take it as seriously. Though other times his voice acting is good. I just think maybe his voice needs to go at a bit of a higher pitch sometimes, particularly in more emotional moments, instead of his really deep voice

I was originally going to draw him with the Strawberry Jam Sword, but given what happened in Episode 14 (which I haven’t gotten to, I just started Episode 9, but I have seen cutscenes of), I thought it would be better to draw him without it. So instead I drew him doing that dramatic cape flutter thing Descole sometimes does

Side note, but have any of you seen Ginjaninjaowo’s Cookie Run humanizations? And how like, with some of them at least they tried to make the humanizations more than just “make them human” and put some sort of spin on their designs? Well I realized while drawing Dark Choco (specifically his cape and shoulder pads) that his design could translate well to a gundam sort of outfit. You know, have the shoulder pads be mechanical or something? I dunno, it’s what I thought. Or maybe I’m thinking of Megaman characters, specifically from the X series. So maybe mecha is what I’m thinking?

Dark Cacao Cookie: I like him for very similar reasons to Dark Choco, particularly the tragic backstory and the fact that he’s the other half of the family drama, but I also like him on his own as well. He’s just this old man who’s also a badass king and warrior willing to do whatever it takes for the good of his people, no matter the personal cost, and there seems to be a lot of nuance to his character. Honestly I think it was the Sorrow of Dark Cacao Cookie video that made me like him just on his own as a character. Unfortunately I have not met him in game yet, so I just have a few cutscenes to go off of

Also, his voice acting is really good. Speaking of which, funny story but back when I had just seen the characters (I mean Dark Choco and Dark Cacao) and hadn’t seen their voice actors, I thought “you know, I could see Patrick Seitz voicing one of them”, as I’ve heard him before as Olberic, the legendary but disgraced warrior from Octopath Traveler who also carries a large sword (also I’ve heard him as Dio, but that’s irrelevant). Then one day I’m watching some of the voice actors reacting to fanart, and I see that Patrick Seitz actually does voice Dark Cacao, and honestly that blew my mind. Didn’t think I would be able to guess that

I swear, when drawing this, it went from Dark Choco’s fairly simple design, to “dear LORD this outfit is so much more complicated”. The sword as well. I gave Dark Cacao this outfit mostly just because I like it

Onion Cookie: As I stated in my last post, I find Onion Cookie to be adorable, but also her backstory is really sad. She’s a literal child who died and doesn’t know she’s a ghost, and she’s also scared of ghosts. I want her to be happy as well

Also, I’ve used her in game as part of my B Team, and honestly her ability’s pretty darn strong. I’m also convinced it has like the longest cooldown of any ability. It’s just that the rest of my main group is a lot better than her in terms of strength

Also the little gasp thing I have her doing was just something she sometimes does when you interact with her in your kingdom that I thought was cute. Also I didn’t want to draw her crying

Yeah I don’t have as much to say on Onion, she’s just a baby that needs to be protected

[sashi-ya]

➡ 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 - 𝐏𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 • Bleach Men • 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 pt.1 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 | 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 | 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 | 𝐔𝐥𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐚 | 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐰 | 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚 | 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 |𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 | 𝐍𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐚 |

• promised these hcs for bleach men too, and so here they are. • There are also Hcs for One piece men here • tw: nsfw. pegging. afab dom. spanking. humilliation.

► 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐡𝐞𝐢

He is just so perfect for it. Cause, like, he is just a little sub. For Matsumoto -or any beauty-? He would lick the floor if it were necessary, ask for everything you want, and he will comply. No matter how extreme it is. He would take a little bit of sake before, just in case his anxiety betrays him… Be careful with his nose bleeding whenever you stand in front of him with your harness already secured to your body, he might need medical attention. Also, he might mistake you for an angel or a goddess, keep that in mind.

► 𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚

Ah… my personal favourite. That little waist and that long hair for a better grip. Don’t even tell him, it will be stupid to ask for it in advance. It will happen naturally… Hug him from behind in bed during a cold night, pass your hand towards his belly and go down. Start jerking him off slowly, and barely touching him, while you grope him from behind. At first, don’t use any gears, simply use your fingers. Kisses on his nape also may help. “Can I, my dear Byakuya-sama?” whisper with warm breathe in his ear. He will allow it next time, trust me. Once you have tried the honeys, there is no coming back. And when he does, oh lord… prepare yourself for his whimpers. Even if his voice is usually pretty deep, his whines aren’t. Pull from his hair, squeeze his cheeks, kiss him, bite his shoulders. He would allow it.

► 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐰 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐣𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐳

“Kitty kitty pspspsps on all fours for your owner, now”... But, how did you manage for him to do such thing? Well…   “If I win this fight, you will be pegged” . “Go ahead, I’m not losing” He loses on purpose; he secretly wants to try. Oh, you are doing this while he is on his resurrection form, cute little kitten. ► 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

I mean, if Yoruichi says so, he gets on all fours. Imagine hiding his blushed cheeks under his bucket hat as you go harder in and out of him? He would, however, try to improve the experience with some sort of new toy… Something that won’t only pleasure him, but you as well. Would you try Kisuke’s inventions on your body? 🙊

ㅤㅤㅤ➡ Ulquiorra, Jushiro, Shinji, Kira & Nnoitra under the cut ⬅

► 𝐔𝐥𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

But like, imagine his big eyes and those cute round cheeks looking up at you as he waits for you to give him any orders? Yeah, sure, he acted all “dominant” with Inoue, but that was just for the sake of Aizen’s plan. “Woman, is this what you humans call pegging?” “Yes, and this is called spanking. Let’s see if we can make that white skin a little reddish, shall we?”

► 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐔𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

I mean, you can’t tell me he doesn’t like it. Though, Jushiro is a switch, for sure. He would allow you to play with him, sure… but, expect for the revenge after. He is surely a sweetheart, all smiles and soft caresses but don’t forget what’s under his skin… Pegging would be special while he feels a little bad; “Jushiro, honey… just relax and let me do all the work for you” Accompany the pegging with jerking him off, and he would be in total heaven.

► 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢

As a man of culture, he would like to try it after finding out about those “harnesses” during his visits to the living world. ➡ “Let’s try it, (Name)” ➡ Ends up with his tongue out, chattering his teeth against the little metallic ball of his piercing. Plus: use the little bandana or tie he wears around his neck to muzzle him. Listen to his muffled moans and let him bite it. Adorable.

► 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚

Again, do I have to say anything? Whimper emo creature, we all know you want it. Crawling for attention, after Gin parted, he needs something to fill the void he has left in him. He even has lube on his bedside table. Lieutenant Izuru enjoys such practices with great enthusiasm…

► 𝐍𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐠𝐚

This “man” is the definition of wanting to have his ass wrecked. What else could I say? “I am a man, and no woman can be on top of me” Is that so? Mr toxic masculinity? Why don’t we see a little bit of your private life… Begging for more, harder. Trembling limbs, tongue out, drooling like the bitch he ism you going in and out of him, with just some of your saliva. Don’t forget to take a few pictures, he deserves to be humiliated -even if he would love it-

[a3r3n]

LONELY HEART || K.DY

Pairing: Doyoung × girl!reader (+ Joy and Taeil)

Genre: angst, a little fluff, arranged marriage!AU, strangers to lovers, kinda slowburn if you squish it

Word Count: 10.2k+ (I know it's a lot and I'm sorry, but hopefully it'll be worth it)

⚠️Warnings: a heated kiss and a morally questionable plot (nothing illegal dw)

A/N: Doyoung is my main source of inspiration when it comes to angst, and I don’t know why. Anyway, it took me a while to write this but I finally did it!!! Hope you enjoy it, though it’s a bit long, and forgive me if there are any mistakes: I always proofread what I write, but I'm sure something slipped away!! Also, if you liked this fic, please consider reblogging it, as Tumblr doesn’t really work on likes, so it would be appreciated if you reblogged it <33

🌼Nct 127 Arranged Marriages!AUs Masterlist

🌼Act I - Act II - Act III

Summary [extract]:

You raise your head and look at him, whose eyes are fixed on the street below you. «Why aren’t you with your friends? It’s your party,» you ask him.

«They all get crazy when they’re drunk, and I’m not really in the mood to support their madness tonight,» he says, grinning. «Taeil is the only one who keeps his cool even when drunk.»

«Why aren’t you in the mood?» [...] Doyoung hesitates before answering your question, letting out a deep sigh. He then looks at you and slowly moves his hand closer to yours until your fingers interlock, making you shiver.

«I’ll get married tomorrow,» he simply says, never breaking eye contact.

«I know.»

«With your sister,» he continues.

«... I know.»

December 24th

Maybe, booking a flight to Seoul on Christmas Eve wasn’t a good idea. The price of the tickets was exorbitant, and you didn’t even manage to fly in first-class since all the seats were unavailable, probably booked by more clever travelers who didn’t wait until the last minute to do so. You can recall telling your mother not to wait for your father to return from his business trip and to leave without him, but there was no way to convince her. Even if your father told her he would join you some days later, she insisted on traveling altogether, which is how you ended up in an airport in a foreign country on December 24th.

The place is packed with people leaving Seoul to spend the holidays somewhere else, or people arriving from their home country just like you and your parents. A man dressed as Santa is entertaining some children who look upset to travel on Christmas Eve while their parents try to cram all the last-minute gifts into the luggage. A group of people walk towards you in a rush, dragging their bags and yelling something in a foreign language - not that you need to understand what they’re saying to know that you should get out of their way. Among all those people, you finally recognize a familiar figure who’s waving her arms to be noticed.

«Joy!» you exclaim, leaving your luggage to your parents to go hug your sister. «I missed you so much,» you say as she squeezes you into her arms.

«I missed you too,» she replies, kissing you on both cheeks. «Oh dear Lord, have you grown taller during these months?» she then asks you, making you roll your eyes: she frequently takes advantage of her height to make fun of you, and you’ll never get used to it.

«I tried, but that ‘dear Lord’ said one giraffe is enough for our family!»

She giggles and walks over to hug your parents, and that’s when you notice the man who had been standing behind her the entire time. He’s tall and slim, with gleaming skin and eyes as dark as the night sky outside. He’s wearing designer clothes, probably even more expensive than the ones your sister owns.

With a simple gesture, he orders two other men to grab all of your luggage bags, and approaches Joy once she’s finished greeting everyone. «Mom, dad, my beloved sister,» she starts off, taking the man next to her by the arm. «He’s Kim Doyoung, my fiance.»

The perks of being born in a wealthy family are many: from getting all the toys you want, to owning four different cars without even having a diver’s license, from attending the most exclusive schools to spending vacations on some renowned island. Even if you believe in higher moral values, you can’t deny you’re lucky to be the daughter of one of your country's wealthiest CEOs.

On the contrary, the disadvantages of having such a rich and powerful man as a parent are almost nonexistent.

Almost.

One of these disadvantages is that your father, like many other businessmen, would do anything for his company. Even if that means involving his own daughters in his projects. And when he found out that his two most powerful partners from abroad had sons your age, he wasted no time in arranging your marriages with them. You didn’t know these men; in fact, you had never even met them before. The only thing you knew was that, on a serene spring day, your father had informed you and your sister about your engagement with these two strangers from South Korea.

Both you and Joy anticipated that moment from the day you were born, thus handled the situation tactfully. Your sister, as the obedient daughter she’d always been and the future heir to your father’s company, did anything she could to meet her future husband’s expectations, preparing to be both the perfect wife and business partner. Not that she needed to, since she knew everything about the business, having spent her whole life by your father’s side.

You, on the other hand, didn’t really care about the company and all the benefits it would take from your union with your fiance. The idea of an arranged marriage had been drilled into your head since you were a toddler, which is why you immediately accepted your fate without even questioning it, but you had other plans for your future. You just hoped your future husband would agree with you.

As a precise and perfectionist woman, your sister had insisted on moving to South Korea way before her wedding to learn the language, understand the culture, and, well, get to know her fiance. From the long late-night calls you two made while she was away, you eventually understood she was falling in love with that charming, mysterious man. But according to her, he didn’t seem to be as fond of her. «I’m sure he likes you,» you once told her, stifling a yawn. «I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t, Joy. You’re… wonderful!»

«I’m sure he likes me, too,» she responded. «I just don’t believe he will ever love me. I don’t see that sparkle in his eyes when he looks at me .»

«Then I’ll set his eyes on fire! Instead of sparkles, he’ll see flames!»

Since you were the youngest daughter, your parents didn’t put as much pressure on your wedding, giving you more time before getting married. That’s why you decided to stay in your country and only spoke with your fiance once on a video call, but nothing more. You wanted to take as much time as possible.

That is, until now.

In fact, arriving in South Korea for your sister’s wedding also means that you will never return home, as you will marry a couple of months after her.

«Nice to meet you,» you greet your future brother-in-law with a handshake and introduce yourself. He does look charming and mysterious. Perhaps a little too much for your taste, but he’s still attractive.

The two men who’d previously taken your bags lead you outside the airport to a private parking lot and open the doors of the most expensive limousine you’ve ever seen. As always, you end up in the window seat, next to your parents and in front of your sister and her fiance.

«How was the flight?» Joy asks, offering you a glass of water from a small refrigerator.

«I’d say it was quite agreeable.»

«Mom, you only say that because you’ve been sleeping the entire time!» you immediately reply, recalling the several hours you spent going back and forth from the toilet because of some heavy turbulence.

«Lucky her! I was so exhausted from my previous flight that I couldn’t even fall asleep!» your dad adds.

«But the flight was quite agreeable,» you scoff, making everyone chuckle.

Well, not everyone.

«Doyoung, dear, I hope our arrival today didn’t ruin your Christmas Eve!» your mom says, changing the topic to catch his attention.

«You didn’t, ma’am. My family doesn’t even celebrate it because we work all day,» he answers flatly.

«You don’t celebrate Christmas Eve… because you work?» you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

«Exactly. We can’t just stop and close everything. It’s not possible.»

«I’m sure it is! You’re the CEO of your company: you can take a couple of days off for yourself – and everyone else!»

«Darling, I’m sure he knows what’s best for his business!» your father says, giving you a warning look.

«No problem, sir,» Doyoung interrupts him. «She probably still has a lot to learn about how our world works.»

«As if,» you scoff, ignoring a soft kick on the leg from your sister. «What if your employees wanted to spend this holiday with their family?»

«Well, they've got tomorrow to do that. Christmas Eve isn't even a holiday, and they have to work,» he replies, never losing his cool, or showing any signs of bother.

«On the contrary: Christmas Eve is a holiday, and some people like to celebrate it! Have you ever considered the idea of asking...»

«Honey, enough,» Joy interrupts you, looking deadly serious. You sigh and decide to focus on the scenery outside the window, trying not to let that conversation influence your first impression of that man.

It’s hard, though.

December 25th

The weather outside is freezing, but the atmosphere in the dining room is quite warm and not only because the heating plant is always on. Both families – yours and your sister’s fiance’s – are seated around the profusely furnished table, waiting for the dessert. The entire lunch was delicious, from the appetizers to the side dishes, and the red wine you all drank helped everyone relax, and you’re now happily chatting away as if you'd known each other for years.

Joy entertained everybody with her lively personality and gentle sense of humor, showing she would be the perfect wife for Doyoung. Unlike him, his parents were very welcoming and seemed to enjoy your family’s company, and this unusual Christmas lunch turned out to be enjoyable. You didn’t talk much, choosing to keep to yourself and listen to whatever conversation piqued your interest. Unfortunately, all the men have been talking about is work, while the women are saying something boring about housekeeping, and that’s why you now find yourself staring at your empty silver glass, absent-mindedly turning it between your fingers.

Suddenly, a long line of maids enters the dining room, carrying large trays full of fruits and any type of pastries that make your mouth water just looking at them. Once everyone’s plate is full, though, the conversation the men were having takes an intriguing turn, and you can’t help but listen this time.

«As I was saying, we were almost abandoning our project when my son discovered this ideal location for our new building!» Doyoung’s father says proudly as he places a hand on his son’s shoulder.

«I can tell your son is completely engaged in this business!» your dad replies. «Where is this location?»

«It’s a large territory just outside of Seoul. It used to be an animal rescue center, but they couldn't keep it going because they didn't have enough money. So they decided to sell it, and we’ve been lucky enough to be the first ones to make an offer. They were desperate for money and would accept any amount,» Doyoung explains. «Actually, they haven’t left yet, but we’re gonna make them vacate soon.»

You hope you didn’t hear that right.

But you did.

And you’ve never been so enraged as you are right now.

«I truly hope this is a joke,» you say bitterly, trying to keep your voice firm and low. The women next to you stop talking, trying to figure out what offended you, while your father glares at you, silently ordering you to remain silent.

«It isn't,» Doyoung answers, his eyes challenging you. «The construction of the building will begin in about a month.»

«You can’t be this selfish and heartless!» you exclaim, forgetting about your intentions to keep calm. «You’re leaving those poor animals to their fate, which I’m sure will not be kind to them! They’ll be abandoned, or worse, end up...»

«Honey, I think that’s enough,» your sister interrupts you, glaring at you in the same way your father did before. «You've got nothing to do with it, and they don’t care about your opinion.»

«I do care,» Doyoung says in a subtle mocking tone, drawing everyone's attention on him. «I’d like to know what she thinks since she seems to be so expert...»

«Oh, but she isn’t, trust me,» Joy replies, smiling at him. «Honey, let it go.»

«So you’re saying you’re okay with this? They’re gonna kill some innocent creatures, and for what?» You look at her in disbelief. When did your sister become so submissive and compliant? She used to be the type of girl who would fight for her opinions, but it seems like she can’t even think with her own head right now.

«It’s their business, and you have no say in it!» your father exclaims abruptly, and you can tell his calm demeanor won’t last much longer if you don’t obey.

«What would you do?» Doyoung asks you, making both your dad and your sister stop talking. His tone of voice and his stare are still mocking, but you can't let him make a fool of you in front of everybody. You have strong opinions and won’t let anyone tell you they’re not valid.

«First and foremost, I would have offered more money,» you begin, ignoring the death stares from your parents and sister. «And then, I wouldn’t have bought that place! Instead, I would have donated the money to help them! There are lives involved in this: it’s not like you’ve bought some desolate land!»

«They’re just animals,» Doyoung replies, making your blood boil. His sarcastic voice, his cold stare, his snobbish attitude… everything about him irritates you greatly.

«Just animals?! They’re living beings, just like us! You can’t...»

«Seriously, stop it now,» your sister interrupts you again. «You’ve expressed your opinion. Be content with it and shut up.»

You refuse to believe what you’ve just heard and look at your sister, hoping to find signs of amusement on her face. But she wasn’t joking, and you suddenly felt a wave of disappointment hitting you. She would always have your back. What happened to her?

Everyone’s eyes are now on you, and the atmosphere in the room becomes tense and heavy until Doyoung breaks the silence. «Don’t worry, Joy,» he says, the mocking tone in his voice never leaving. «She’s still young: it’s okay to have the head in the clouds at her age.»

The conversation goes back to normal, but you still feel an intense heat inside your body, and you don’t know if it’s from embarrassment or anger. You just want to disappear right now.

For a brief moment, you catch Doyoung staring at you with a sly smile on his face. And you wish he would vanish as well.

December 26th

You wrap yourself in the warm coat and look around at the extended but ruined area in front of you. Everything is still covered in snow, with only a few blades of grass poking through, and the cold is so intense that you can feel it penetrating the coat and reaching your bones. A small, colorful house is located in the middle of that vast valley, surrounded by other facilities from which you can clearly hear calls of various animals.

From afar, everything appears to be in the norm. A few people are going back and forth from one building to the other, chatting away while performing their tasks, unaware of the watchful gaze that's been scrutinizing them for the past twenty minutes. Looking closely, though, you couldn't deny that the entire place was in a dreadful state.

When you left the Kims' villa that morning, your sister warned you that the trip would be pointless. «I've already been there, honey,» she said before you stepped into the cab. «It's a waste of time. No one can save that place.» But, being the stubborn girl that you are, you decided to visit that animal rescue center anyway, and after an hour-long drive, you arrived at your destination.

From afar, the landscape looked breathtaking. Looking closer, though, you had to admit your sister was right: that place couldn't be saved. They had a lot of animals to take care of, from stray puppies and kittens to farm animals such as cows and horses, as well as some odd fish and turtles. But, based on what you could see, they didn't seem to have enough space or resources to care for them.

You then exchanged a few words with some of the workers to better understand the situation, and they all seemed broken by the thought of the center's cruel fate. «We will lose our job, which we adore,» one of them said, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes, «and the animals will be either sent to a slaughterhouse, or to some miserable shelters, or abandoned on the streets.»

After another tour of the area that allowed you to interact with some of the animals, you decided you'd had enough, said your goodbyes, and left. However, as soon as you reached the cab, you gave the driver the money he'd asked for and sent him away.

You're not sure why, but you couldn't leave that place yet, and you now find yourself sitting on a frozen bench, wrapped in your coat, watching the center and its workers from afar. It was evident that everyone there genuinely enjoyed what they were doing, and even the animals seemed to have grown fond of the people who had been taking care of them that whole time. How could Mr. Kim and his son be so cynical and destroy everything, depriving those poor creatures of their only hope for a better life? You feel a shred of anger building up at that thought and unconsciously grip the hem of your coat with such strength that your knuckles became as white as the snow surrounding you.

«What on earth are you doing here?» You hear a masculine voice from behind you. When you turn around, you see an apparently irritated Doyoung staring at you while leaning against his car, arms crossed on his chest.

«None of your business,» you reply, turning away from him.

«I hate to disappoint you, but this is my business,» he says, approaching you and then looking towards the same direction your eyes have been following. «Did you go there?» You nod. «Did you see the state of the buildings? The conditions in which those animals are forced to live?» You nod again, not uttering a word. «Do you understand why this place should shut down now?»

You glare at him furiously and shake your head vehemently. «You must be a hideous person if you think that's the best solution,» you state acidly, tightening the grip on the hem of your coat. «You’re going to solve the problem the easy way: getting rid of it when you should be fighting it instead.»

«No one cares about this place anyway. A luxurious apartment complex for people who need somewhere to live would be far more useful, don't you think?» he asks, sitting next to you.

You scoff at his statement, rolling your eyes. «And I bet the people you're talking about are living on the streets right now, aren't they?» you say sarcastically, raising an eyebrow when you hear him snicker.

«Not everything we do must have a socially helpful purpose.»

«But if you have the opportunity to be socially helpful, why not use it?» you reply, bothered by his indifference. «You'd be doing something morally valuable that could help a lot of people and still be loaded – if money is your top priority. Is it so illogical to you?»

A tense silence follows, and you both spend it watching the ruined yet beautiful landscape below you. When you turn to look at him again, he does the same, and you end up locking eyes for a split second before he quickly looks away. «It's not illogical,» he utters, suddenly standing up. «But we would make more money from my project.»

«So it's all about money,» you scoff, crossing both your arms and legs, this time visibly bothered. «Don't you think you've got enough? What's the point of getting richer and richer if you can't use your money to help those who are in need?»

«Does helping others make you that happy?» he asks you back. «Aren't you satisfied with what you have now?»

«I hate using set phrases,» you reply, standing up too. «But material goods don't satisfy my soul. I just can't see the point of being so wealthy if I'm the only one who can enjoy and benefit from that!»

It's now his turn to scoff. «You're just so young. You still need to understand how our society works.»

«I already know how it works, and I don't like it.»

Ignoring your words, he pulls a pair of keys from his pocket and opens the car doors. «I need to speak to one of the managers now. Will you wait for me in the car? It's not gonna take long.»

You nod, putting your pride aside in exchange for a ride home that won't cost you more money.

«Remember,» he suddenly says, calling your name. «This world is for the selfish.»

«This world is for everyone,» you reply, walking to the car.

December 27th

«I think you look stunning,» Joy states as she examines your reflection in the mirror.

«I think I look like a clown,» you mutter.

In your opinion, the dress your sister bought for you was too fancy and inappropriate for the occasion, but she thought otherwise. Despite her busy schedule due to the impending wedding, she made time to take you to an exclusive store that morning and force you to try a dozen articles until you found the one she thought was perfect. It was a navy-blue velvet mermaid dress, with a single thin sleeve covering your left shoulder and a strip of the same color sewn around the waist. The front vent was deep enough to show off your favorite silver shoes that matched the choker Joy made you wear. It’s a big night for your family, and you have to look your best, even if you’re dying on the inside. After all, you don't want to disappoint your future husband, do you?

Even if you’re still unsure about your sister’s choice, you don’t have enough time to get changed, as the guests have already arrived. From your room, you and Joy can hear indistinct voices chattering, and then the door bursts open, revealing an impatient Doyoung dressed in a silky suit that does justice to his tall and slender figure. «Are you ready? I’ve been waiting for you for two hours!»

«I’m sorry, but my sister kept saying she didn’t want her fiance to see her like this, and it took me a while to convince her!» Joy says, combing your hair one last time and adding a pair of sparkly pins on both sides of your head. «But I think she’s simply beautiful. Don’t you agree?» she asks the man standing on the doorstep. You turn to look at him and find yourself holding your breath when you notice he's already been staring at you for quite some time.

«Mh,» he hums, nodding, «but she would look more beautiful if she promised not to make a fuss tonight,» he adds, earning a death stare from you and a chuckle from your sister.

«You know he’s right,» Joy says as she grabs her purse and walks out the door with her fiance. «Or do you wanna make a bad first impression on your future husband and his family?»

You sigh deeply and nod, annoyed. «I promise I won’t say anything that might scandalize their innocent souls,» you say ironically, rolling your eyes. They both grin at your words, and then you all leave the bedroom.

As you walk through the long corridors to join the others, your sister takes Doyoung by the arm and leans her head on his shoulder. That simple action makes you feel something uncomfortable in your stomach, and you wonder if it’s because you ate too many cookies a couple of hours prior, or if you’re simply envious of their relationship. Looking at them, you can clearly tell she’s head over heels for him, and he respects her just as much – not bad for an arranged marriage. Overall, they look happy, and you wish the same for yourself and your future husband. Even if you’re not in love, you hope to be at least happy.

Before your sister opens the door of the royal dining room where Mr. Kim set up the dinner, Doyoung directs his gaze towards you and grins when he catches you staring. You immediately look away, mentally scolding yourself for reasons you don’t even know. That uneasy feeling in your stomach, though, doesn’t go away. If anything, it intensifies.

༄

«Last but not least, we were considering March 21st as the wedding date,» Mr. Moon states in a tone that dismisses any objections. «It’s spring, the weather is nice, and we don’t have any important meetings scheduled for that day.»

«Moreover, you’ll have plenty of time to organize everything, and it won’t be too late for Doyoung and Joy’s honeymoon either!» his wife adds in a much sweeter tone.

You spent the entire evening talking about your sister’s wedding, but you knew the time to talk about yours would come too. Your fiance’s parents asked your opinion on a bunch of things, such as the location of the ceremony and the colors to use, and then proceeded to inform you that they had already chosen almost everything and you only needed to approve it. Not to mention that they all agreed to let the four of you go on a honeymoon together. Your sister seemed excited about it, as did your fiance, while you and Doyoung didn’t look thrilled at the idea, exchanging an unamused look when his father let you know their plan.

«I think March 21st is perfect!» your mother exclaims, clapping. «Don't you agree, honey?» she then asks you with a smile, and you wonder if she truly believes that or if she’s just acting.

«Yeah... I mean, it's cool,» you say with a shrug.

Joy, who's sitting to your left, pinches your thigh beneath the table. «Could you at least try to show a little more excitement?» she scolds you quietly when your parents start talking about something else.

«Those two control freaks have already shown enough for all of us,» you scoff, your gaze fixed on your empty plate, and she can't help but agree. Mr. and Mrs. Moon showed a quite manipulative and controlling attitude throughout the whole dinner, and you'd be lying if you said they didn't scare you a little. Their son, Taeil, on the contrary, seemed to be calm and polite, maybe a little too condescending, and submitted to his parents. He would nod and agree on everything they said, never expressing dissatisfaction or disapproval. Although he didn’t talk much, you could tell he was a nice guy, and attractive too, so you couldn't complain.

«I've heard you've been to the animal rescue center,» a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you realize it's Doyoung's father speaking to you.

«That ruined place we'll demolish soon?» Mr. Moon adds, laughing abruptly. «Did you go there? How did you find it?» he then asks you.

Your sister and her fiance shoot you a glare, silently reminding you of the promise you made earlier, and you sigh. «As you said, it's ruined, and the living conditions of those animals aren't much better. But with enough money, there might be a chance...»

«...to move the animals somewhere else,» Doyoung interrupts you. «There's nothing we can do about the center, but at least we can give those animals a better life.»

You frown, surprised and suspicious, hoping he's telling the truth. When you last talked to him about it, he didn’t seem willing to find a way to save the creatures living in the center. «Really?» you ask him.

«Really?» his father asks at the same time.

«Yes, your daughter helped me come up with this idea, and I find it… interesting,» Doyoung admits, looking at your parents, who are as surprised as you, but for a different reason.

«Our daughter Joy?» they ask, unable to believe that a serious and competent businessman like Doyoung would consider something you suggested.

«No, her,» he replies, pointing at you, and making your parents open their mouths wide. Even your sister is taken aback, mainly because she never saw her fiance accept suggestions for his projects from others. Above all, if those suggestions came out as harsh criticism. And knowing you well, she’s sure you hadn’t been very polite in expressing your views.

«Beautiful and brilliant,» Mr. Moon proudly states as if you were his daughter. «I can’t wait to discuss further details with you someday.»

༄

«I didn’t come up with that idea,» you say, startling the man who’s just come out of the bathroom. It’s almost midnight, every corner of the house is dark and silent, and you secretly sneaked out of your bedroom, hoping Doyoung was awake.

After what he said during the dinner, you couldn’t focus on anything other than finding out if he was telling the truth or just playing with you. You kept wondering what made him change his mind all of a sudden and why he partially lied to everyone in that dining room. Was he just trying to get you to stop talking? Or was he serious about it? Questions like these popped into your head throughout the rest of the evening and kept you distracted, even when Taeil approached you to talk a little, while the others left you alone. You’ve been trying in vain to remember what he said, but your mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

«Are you following me?» Doyoung asks with a smirk.

«No, but I’d like to speak with you.»

«About what?»

«You know it,» you respond, following him to his bedroom.

He sighs, defeated, and stops right in front of his closed door. «You kinda did… come up with that idea, I mean,» he says quietly, scratching the back of his head. «Or rather, you inspired it.»

«And what made you change your mind?»

«You,» he says with a serious look on his face.

«Me?» you ask in a high-pitched tone due to the surprise his answer caused. «Didn’t you say I was just a young girl with her head in the clouds who still had to learn how our society works?»

«I did, and I still believe what I said,» he admits with a grin, and you let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. «But I guess I realized your speech about helping others made sense and decided to try to save those animals.»

You unconsciously smile at his words, glad that someone has finally recognized and credited your ideas. «How are you gonna do that? I think a donation would be...»

«Hey, slow down,» he interrupts you, putting his hand on your bare shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers brush against your skin, and you’re glad you’re in the dark, or he would have certainly noticed your flushed cheeks. «The center will shut down anyway: I’ll only save the animals. I’ve already found some organizations willing to spend significant sums of money on them, and I know some people who wouldn't mind owning a couple of thoroughbreds,» he explains, his hand leaving your shoulder as soon as he finishes speaking.

«And who’s gonna keep all that money?»

«Us, of course. We will use it to cover the costs of some of...»

«Why don’t you give it to the owner of the center? They might use it to find a better place where they can continue to work! Hopefully, it’ll be smaller and with fewer animals, but it could be a new beginning!» you interrupt him, and your voice and the words you say sound so pure in his ears that he has to fight the impulse to hold you tightly and not let go. As soon as that thought crosses his mind, he quickly pushes it away and opens the door behind him.

«Will you ever be satisfied? I told you I’d save the animals!» he says as he walks into his room.

«Apparently, there’s something else you can do,» you chuckle and take a small step back. «But saving the animals will be enough for now.»

You hear him sigh and whisper a ‘goodnight.'

«Goodnight,» you reply. «And thank you.»

Then silence falls on the house again.

December 28th

Lazily lying on the couch, you leaf through the pages of a fashion magazine while your sister and your mother discuss the last details of the ceremony with the wedding planner. It's something involving the wedding registry that has to be redone, but you aren’t interested enough to understand the whole situation.

Doyoung, who is sitting on an armchair in the other corner of the living room, tries to listen to the wedding planner’s words but gets frequently distracted. Looking away from the pages you’re pretending to read, you see him sigh for the umpteenth time, trying to keep his composure and then holding back a yawn. You giggle, but it comes out louder than you meant to. While your sister and your mother ignore you, Doyoung shoots you a glare, to which you reply with a grimace and then go back to your fake reading.

«Who would give a married couple something like… this?!» Joy exclaims with a broken voice, pointing at one of the pictures your mother was looking at. The wedding planner looks mortified and immediately deletes the image from the list.

«Darling, no need to overreact,» your mother calmly says. «If you don’t like something, just say it, and we’ll cross it out.»

Your sister takes a deep sigh, nodding, and you mentally promise yourself you wouldn’t get so stressed while planning your wedding.

Another hour goes by, and you become even more bored than you already were. The three women are still sitting around the table, crossing out or circling the words written on the list, while Doyoung is standing next to an old-fashioned globe now, making it rotate from time to time.

«Is it so difficult?» you ask, putting the magazine away after witnessing another mental breakdown from your sister.

«Of course it is, honey,» your mother answers before Joy can attack you with every insult she knows. «It’s important to choose the right gifts: things you might need in the future, for the house, for your honeymoon...»

«Why don’t you just ask for money?»

«That's not how it works,» Doyoung says, grinning.

«Why not? I would...» you suddenly gasp and stand up when a brilliant idea crosses your mind. «Why don’t you set up a fundraiser? Instead of asking for actual gifts, you could ask people to donate a sum of money, and then give it all to a charity!» you exclaim, proud of your idea, but your sister doesn’t look as excited. At all.

«I’m sorry, honey, but it’s my wedding, and the presents are for me to keep,» Joy says, then immediately corrects herself. «I mean, for us.»

«Then I’ll do it at my wedding,» you state. «If Mr. and Mrs. Control Freaks allow it,» you add, earning a death stare from your mother. You don’t even have the time to sit back down on the couch, though, that another idea pops up in your mind, and you stand up again. «How about I do it and donate the money to that animal rescue center? Do you think it’s possible?» you ask Doyoung, who gets a bit startled from your sudden exclamation.

«It is,» he answers. «I mean, you should speak with the director and see if...»

«Can I, please?» you cut him off. «If it’s possible, I’d like to talk to him immediately!»

«First of all, slow down!» your sister scolds you. «Your wedding is in three months! You'll have plenty of time to think about your stupid donation! Let me finish this in peace now!»

Joy goes back to her list, and you move closer to Doyoung. He sparked something inside you, and now he has to deal with it. «Do you think the director’s free this evening?» you whisper-ask him, not to distract your sister.

«What would I know?»

«Aren’t you in touch with him? Can you find out when he’s available and let me talk to him?» you insist, raising your voice again.

«Doyoung, please, do whatever she wants as long as she keeps that big mouth shut!» your sister cries out on the verge of tears, and you realize you may have exaggerated this time. You sigh and go back to your spot on the couch, choosing not to utter a word until the end of that meeting, when you see Doyoung approach you.

«I'll be at the center tomorrow. You can come if you want,» he whispers to your ear. You nod enthusiastically, and a hundred thousand sparks of happiness burst in your eyes.

December 29th

«What are we gonna do now?» you ask Doyoung, trying to relax.

When you woke up that morning, the sun was shining high in the sky, and the weather was unusually pleasant for a December day. You didn’t complain, though, because you’d be outside all day and needed the weather to be pleasant. When you left, right after lunch, it was still sunny, even if some suspicious clouds started appearing in the sky. But you didn’t give it much importance. Ten minutes later, it started snowing a little. Half an hour later, it started snowing a lot. And now you’re stuck in traffic, unable to continue your drive to the center or return home. You’ve never witnessed a snowstorm before, and you must admit it’s scary. Terrifying.

«The cars are moving too slowly: it’ll take us a lifetime to get to the center,» Doyoung states calmly, without showing any signs of panic or fear.

«Are we gonna come back home then?»

He shakes his head. «We’d have to take a different route, but it’s too dangerous right now.»

«Then what?! I don’t wanna be stuck here forever, or worse, die in a snowstorm!» you exclaim, exasperated.

«You’ll survive,» he simply replies, ignoring your complaints and threats to go out and come back home on foot. Not that you’d have the guts to do it.

Time goes by, the sky darkens, and the sun becomes almost invisible, but the snow keeps falling, and you’ve only moved by a dozen meters. Doyoung had previously turned on the radio in an attempt to distract you, but eventually, even music became too much to bear, and he had to turn it off. Your sister kept calling you to check on you, and every time she did, you could hear your mother crying in the background.

«Now I know where I get my anxiety from,» you joke when Joy calls you for the ninth time in an hour.

Suddenly, the car in front of you starts moving again, and Doyoung interrupts your conversation to tell you that he's thought of a way to avoid both the traffic and the snowstorm. «One of my friend’s hotels should be nearby: if we get to that sign, I can turn right, and we should be there in about fifteen minutes.»

You hear your sister scream with joy on the other end of the phone, but your mother forbids her to hang up until you’re safe and sound at the hotel. You reach the sign Doyoung pointed at in ten minutes, but apparently, you aren't the only ones who considered taking refuge in that hotel, as there was another long line of cars heading in that direction. That's why it took you another hour to get to your destination, and Joy kept you company the entire time.

༄

«You’re lucky: there's only one double bedroom left!» the receptionist states after a quick glance at the computer screen.

«Are you sure there aren’t any single rooms available? I’m Jung Jaehyun’s friend,» Doyoung asks, referring to the friend he mentioned before.

«I’m sorry, sir, but a lot of people came here before you because of the snowstorm. This is the only available room we have.»

«It’s okay,» you say, a slight flush of embarrassment running up your cheeks. «It's better than nothing!»

Doyoung nods and the receptionist hands him the key to your room. As soon as you lock the door behind you, you receive another phone call from your sister and spend twenty minutes explaining the situation to her, accidentally omitting the detail of the room you and her fiance have to share. You don't think it’s inappropriate; you just don’t want her to be more worried.

Doyoung has just finished showering when you hang up, and you rush to the bathroom right away. As you get out of the shower, only wrapped in a towel, you find him lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. «I ordered room service,» he says, pointing at a tray on the small table beside the double bed.

«Oh, thank you! I was starving!» you exclaim cheerfully, then turn to look at him. «Don’t you eat?»

He only shakes his head in response, and you shrug, too focused on your empty stomach to care about anything else. After you finish, you set some of the food aside, in case Doyoung gets hungry later, throw away the dirty plastic dishes and sit on the bed next to him.

«You’re getting married in less than two days,» you say, trying to strike up a conversation.

«Right,» he sighs, still staring at the ceiling.

«Joy seems happy,» you continue. «But I’m warning you: if you hurt her, you’re a dead man.»

He chuckles and turns to face you, but his heart skips a beat when his eyes meet yours. «You know, your fundraising idea for the wedding isn’t that bad,» he tells you, changing the topic. «You must be really dedicated to others to do such things.»

«Can I tell you something?» you ask him, and he nods. «I don’t care about my dad’s company. He probably hopes that letting his daughters marry his partners’ sons will give him more control over the business, but I’m afraid that’d be impossible with me. It’s not that I don’t wanna work; I’d rather focus on volunteering and charity work because it’s something that fulfills me. My parents and my sister think I’m a weirdo, though.»

«You are kinda weird,» he says, and you shoot him a glare. «But in a good way. People like us usually only think about money and their businesses, and I’m no exception. But it’s good to know people like you still exist.»

«Like me?»

«Yes. Altruistic, kindhearted, a little naive...»

«I’m not naive!» you exclaim, crossing your arms on your chest and pretending to be hurt.

«Yes, you are! But believe me, it’s not a bad thing.»

«Do you believe my fiance will let me follow my projects? I mean, I’d still do it, but do you think he’ll go along with it?» you ask him after some minutes of silence.

«Probably. Taeil’s the type of person who never contradicts others. I’ve always thought that would only cause him harm, but I guess it could work in your favor.»

«I noticed. He seems to be a nice guy, though. Not the type I would fall in love with, but I don’t dislike him either.»

«Are you okay with marrying someone you don’t love?» Doyoung suddenly asks you, going back to staring at the ceiling.

«The thing is,» you begin, now lying next to him, «I’ve always avoided catching feelings because I knew I'd marry a complete stranger one day.»

«Are you saying you’ve never been in a relationship?»

«Exactly. I never… cared.»

«Does this mean Taeil will be your first… everything?» he asks you, surprised.

«You’re right,» you admit, a little embarrassed. «My first kiss, my first time, and my first wedding too!» you laugh ironically. «I’ll share my first experiences with a stranger, but I’m okay with it as long as we get along, and I’m free to pursue my goals, which involve charity work and volunteering.»

«Love is the most powerful feeling of all and one should experience it in their life, but maybe you’ll live better like that... not even knowing what love feels like.»

You sigh at his words and join him in staring at the ceiling. He was right; you probably don’t even know what love feels like, and you’ve never been even curious to find out until that moment. But then your mind suddenly recalls a quote you read somewhere, something like ‘love comes at a time you never thought it would have.' And you realize you never expected it to happen on a snowy December day, in a hotel room with a man you didn’t even like at first.

«Do you love Joy?» you ask Doyoung, but you don’t need him to speak to find out. After all, your sister had also noticed it.

«She’s a beautiful woman, always high-spirited and lively. She’ll be a good wife, and I’ll be a good husband to her,» he says, maintaining his composure as always.

«But do you love her?» you insist, rolling over to face him. As he feels your gaze on his body, he also turns to look at you, reducing the gap between your faces. Maybe it’s because of his handsome looks or the spicy chicken wings you had for dinner, but your cheeks are on fire… your whole body is.

«I like her very much, and I respect her. Isn’t that sufficient?»

«Indeed,» you agree, nodding. «As long as you don’t hurt her.»

Some time goes by without the two of you speaking, but you don’t look away from each other for even one second. And there it is again, that uncomfortable sensation in your stomach, this time accompanied by an accelerated heartbeat and shaky breathing. His face is serious, almost indifferent, but his eyes betray the attraction he’s feeling for you right now: that strong desire to hold you in his arms and protect you from the world, knowing he’s the only one who can touch you like that...

«Are you tired?» he asks, interrupting the inappropriate stream of thoughts he was having.

«Only a little. Are you?»

He nods. «I’m sorry you didn’t get to talk to the director today.»

«It’s okay,» you say, surprised by his unexpected thoughtfulness. «We'll go another day. Maybe after your wedding.» Your statement reminds him that he’ll be a married man in a few days, with your sister as his wife.

Your sister, not you.

He needs to keep reminding himself of this, or he might give in to some sudden impulse. After all, he’s only known you for a few days and didn’t even like you at first. Now he’s stuck in a hotel room with you – a beautiful girl – while the snow is storming outside. It’s natural to feel some attraction, isn’t it? That doesn’t mean he’s caught feelings or anything.

Then you look at him with your doe eyes, and his limbs weaken.

«Do you want to sleep?» he asks again, and you nod. «There's a light switch there,» he adds, pointing at the wall behind you. When you stand up, you realize the towel is still wrapped around your body. Whatever, you think. At least it’s more comfortable than my clothes.

The room becomes dark, and you stumble a few times before reaching the bed. But as soon as you sit down on the mattress, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you close. Your back touches his chest, your legs intertwine, and his arms wrap you in a tight hug. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your neck, sending shivers up and down your spine. You know it's wrong, but it feels so right you don’t even try to fight back. It makes your head spin and your heart race, and your entire body feels incredibly warm. You don’t know what love feels like, but you guess it might be something close to that. Something too good to be true.

It’s alright, you think before falling asleep, to silence the guilt. Until tomorrow morning, it’ll be fine.

December 30th

You woke up with Doyoung's arms around you and his body against yours. A bit sleepy, you slowly rolled over, carefully watching every move you made, and ended up with your face too close to his, your noses almost touching. He was still sleeping, so you took advantage of that moment to look at him, noting every little detail of his and keeping it safe in your memory. When he began squirming and stretching his arms and legs, you quickly backed away, closing your eyes again, not wanting to be caught staring at him.

But as soon as Doyoung realized you weren't between his arms anymore, he pulled you close again until your face touched his chest, and wrapped you in a tight hug. You knew you'd said you would only allow it until the morning – and the morning had come – but a few more minutes like that wouldn't harm anyone, right?

«I know you're awake,» he said softly, caressing your hair. You wrapped your arm around his waist, hiding your face in his chest to avoid showing your burning cheeks. Your breaths were both shaky and unsteady, frequently interrupted by deep sighs. «It's no longer snowing,» he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

«We should go then.»

«Yeah.»

Yet, neither of you made a move.

But it wasn't long before your sister called, causing you to fully awaken and move away from him. She asked you when you'd come back, and you said you were about to leave the hotel. She then asked if everything was fine, noting that you sounded a little strange, and you answered that you were just tired. As the call ended, you and Doyoung locked eyes for a few more moments before silently agreeing to get changed and leave.

The drive back home was quiet, as neither of you dared utter a word. The streets were accessible, but the landscape surrounding them was covered in snow. So you decided to focus on that fairy-tale-like scenery to get distracted from any other thought.

You arrived home an hour later, and noticed both families were anxiously waiting for you on the porch. Doyoung pulled over next to some other cars, and you waited a few more minutes before definitely leaving. «We should erase this night from our memories,» you suggested, staring down at your feet, unable to look at him in the eyes.

«I agree,» he replied. But when your eyes met for the last time, they screamed at each other that you would never forget it.

You then spent all day assisting your mother with the preparations for Joy's bachelorette party, while she and Doyoung defined the final details of the ceremony. Mr. Kim had reserved an entire club for that night, with one room for your sister and her friends and another for his son and his friends. That way, the couple wouldn't be too far away even on the last night before their wedding.

You did anything you could to keep yourself occupied, mainly because the sense of guilt was killing you, causing your stomach to twist and turn in pain. You couldn't even look at your sister and see how excited she was: it shattered your heart to know she was completely unaware of the intimate moment you and her fiance had shared at the hotel. Even if what hurt you the most wasn't what happened that night, but rather your feelings about it. And you felt even more guilty when you realized they wouldn't go away as morning came.

You and Doyoung, on the other hand, didn't exchange a word the entire day, only letting your eyes meet briefly whenever you crossed paths. You'd lost count of the times you had to pull yourself together after seeing him, resisting the urge to just talk to him or let your hands accidentally touch. The conflict in your mind was torturing you and wouldn't leave you alone, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

I’ll try to forget everything tonight, you thought while getting ready for the evening, looking in the mirror and shaming every part of yourself for what you’d done.

And now you're sitting alone around an empty table, watching your sister have fun with her friends. While they’re going wild on the dance floor, too drunk to understand what they’re doing, you’re absorbed in your thoughts, finding it hard to let loose. One of Joy’s friends tries to convince you to join them, but as soon as she approaches you, she's distracted by another girl who tells her she needs to throw up. «I don’t think your fiance will be happy about this,» the first girl says.

«Yuta doesn’t need to know. Now please, Wendy, let’s go to the restroom!» you hear the other mumble as they walk away.

You considered getting drunk too but only finished a couple of drinks before a knot formed in your stomach, and now you’re just a little bit tipsy. The music gets louder and the air thicker, mixing the expensive brand perfumes all the girls are wearing with the sweat caused by their incessant dancing. You suddenly feel dizzy and decide to leave the room for a while to get some fresh air. It’s still eleven, but you can’t wait to go back home and fall asleep.

The high heels you’re wearing and the dizziness caused by the alcohol make you stumble a few times, so you decide to take them off and let your feet free on the cold floor. You find a service entrance that leads to a long balcony and take a deep breath when you finally feel the cold breeze on your skin, as the loud music fades into the background. You lean against the railing, gazing at the gleaming buildings in front of you for a few seconds, before placing your head between your hands and closing your eyes.

«Why aren’t you with the other girls?» you hear a voice ask from behind you, making you experience a little déjà-vu. This time, though, you don’t even need to turn around to know whose voice it is.

«I needed some fresh air: the air inside made me feel dizzy,» you answer, without opening your eyes.

«Are you drunk?» he chuckles, leaning against the railing next to you.

«Just a little tipsy. You?»

«Me too. I never get totally drunk.»

You raise your head and look at him, whose eyes are fixed on the street below you. «Why aren’t you with your friends? It’s your party,» you ask him.

«They all get crazy when they’re drunk, and I’m not really in the mood to support their madness tonight,» he says, grinning. «Taeil is the only one who keeps his cool even when drunk.»

«Why aren’t you in the mood?» You try not to talk about your fiance, feeling a piercing pain only at the thought of him. Doyoung hesitates before answering your question, letting out a deep sigh. He then looks at you and slowly moves his hand closer to yours until your fingers interlock, making you shiver. «I’ll get married tomorrow,» he simply says, never breaking eye contact.

«I know.»

«With your sister,» he continues.

«... I know.»

«I’m not sure if I wanna marry her,» he admits, and you have to look away to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

«You have to,» you say in a whisper.

«I know.»

Despite the music from inside the club and the never-ending noises of Seoul, the space around you is quiet. «It was just one night, and we did nothing… compromising,» you utter, trying to let go of his hand, but he holds it even tighter.

«But I felt something compromising,» he confesses. «Something, a man shouldn’t feel for his future wife’s sister.»

«It meant nothing,» you insist, looking at him with glossy eyes. «We must forget it even happened. I can’t… I can’t do that to Joy. Neither can you.»

He brushes his free hand against your cheek and then runs it through your hair, and you realize you’ve already lost the battle with your rational self and don’t do anything to stop him. He lets go of your hand to reach your waist and pulls you closer, letting you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Your fingers cling to his shirt, creasing it slightly. «What did you do to me,» you hear him whisper.

«Promise me that we won't let something like this happen ever again,» you tell him, but your trembling voice contradicts your firm words. «You’ll marry Joy, I’ll marry Taeil, and we’ll forget everything.»

«I promise,» he says with a deep sigh but doesn’t seem ready to let you go just yet, keeping you close to him.

«Joy will make an excellent wife. She’s the most amazing woman I know: you won’t be unhappy with her.»

I’ll be unhappy without you, he thinks.

But it’s something he can’t say out loud.

«Taeil will be a good husband as well,» he tells you instead. «He’s respectful and loving, and I’m sure you… you won't be disappointed in him.»

Then, he pulls away and smiles melancholically. You smile back and approach the door he'd left open. «See you tomorrow,» you say as you wave him off. «We’ll be fine.»

You then walk away, without even bothering to wear your heels, shaken by a rush of chills. The music gets louder as you walk, and the voices become more distinct, but the sudden sound of quick steps drowns out all those noises, making you turn around to see what’s going on. As you do so, though, you get pushed against the wall, Doyoung’s figure hovering over you.

«I won’t be fine,» he mumbles, then grabs your chin and leans over. You look at each other with tender yet lustful eyes for a split second, then he kisses you. You feel shy at first, not knowing what to do or how to move, but his lips encourage you to let yourself go, led by your emotions. You then put your arms around his neck, standing on tiptoes, while his hands grab your hips and pull them closer to his. He gives you a few seconds to catch your breath before trapping you between his arms and kissing you again, only stopping to bite your lips, causing you to let out weak and muffled moans that drive him crazy.

«I won’t be fine,» he repeats, wheezing. Then he cups your cheeks with his hands and gives you one last peck before you hear a door open, forcing you to let go. It’s Taeil, looking for the future groom to take him back inside, as requested by their drunk friends. When your fiance notices your presence, he gets a bit startled but is quick to hide his surprise.

«I’m coming,» Doyoung tells him, turning to you to exchange one last gaze before parting ways.

December 31st

A large crowd has gathered outside the small church when you arrive. Doyoung is already inside with his best men while his parents are in the courtyard, talking with a group of people. You recognize Joy’s friends from the night before, and even if they’re obviously hungover, they still manage to look stunning. You and your parents are the last ones to get there, and immediately inform the guests that the bride is about to arrive, prompting everyone to enter the church and take a seat. You walk to the Kim family pew on the first row, and as soon as you sit, your gaze meets Doyoung’s, who’s standing right in front of the altar.

You hadn’t seen him that morning, too busy getting ready and then helping your sister get dressed, and now your heart’s sinking in front of his glacial yet stunning looks. You smile at him, trying to hide your deep sadness, but he looks away.

Then, the wedding march starts playing, and everyone stands up and turns around to admire your sister’s entrance. She shines like a ray of sunlight, absolutely gorgeous in her regal wedding gown, as white as the snow that covered the valley surrounding that place, and with a long monarch train. You see her radiant smile behind the see-through veil, and you feel a grip on your stomach as she approaches the altar, holding the hand Doyoung offered her.

After that, everything becomes a blur. The priest’s voice sounds like a distant echo in your head, and all the people around you transform into vague figures without names or faces. Your lips are smiling, but your eyes are filled with tears that aren't from happiness. The ceremony lasts about an hour, which you spend fighting the urge to run away and never come back.

She’s your sister, you tell yourself, and he’s her husband.

You love Joy. You truly do. And you would never do anything that could hurt her. That’s why you're desperately trying to push away the bitter grief that’s slowly creeping inside you. You know that what you're feeling is immoral and unfair to her, and your mind has been fighting tooth and nail to stop your heart from craving something you will never have.

Someone you can’t have.

Still, regretful tears leave your eyes the moment the couple makes their vows, and you must bite your lower lip to hide its trembling while your fingers firmly grip the hem of your shawl. And your heart writhes once and for all when you finally hear Doyoung say: «I do.»

©a3r3n All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Hey! I just love how you write and characterize the lords and if you're taking requests i was wondering if i could do one of my own. It's be basically how the other lords would react to finding out you were datibg one of them.

Hii, thank you for requesting this! it’s been a very busy and stressful day and this really helped me unwind! It’s gender neutral and i put it all in a little scenario for everyone to enjoy!

Alcina Dimitrescu

You knew that when you invited the other three lords over to Castle Dimitrescu for dinner that there may be some shocked faces sitting around you.

It was finally the night that you and Alcina were going to announce that you were dating to her other siblings. Her daughters of course had already welcomed you into their home and looked up to you.

Alcina sat at the head of the table, you to her side as she placed her hand in yours and raised a glass in the air, Daniela tapping her knife against her glass in order to clear the room.

“My dearest, and not so dearest siblings, tonight we dine with a special occasion in mind… and so I would like to formally announce to you all that we’re dating.”

She finishes her toast by saluting Heisenberg who looks like he’s just about choked on his fork when he sees Alcina hold your hand up and kiss your knuckles.

Angie screeches with excitement which breaks the silence of the room, jumping for joy as Donna claps her hands, the two clearly very happy for you both.

Moreau is nothing but supportive, if not a little sad as couples make him fell that much lonelier but he can’t stop the smile on his face from seeing you two together.

Karl pretends like he’s not happy for his sister, keeping up the playful banter the two share and whines about not wanting to attend any weddings or think about gifts.

“Oh hush, you man-thing. You’re just jealous, nothing more.”

Everyone in the room chuckles and Karl holds up his glass to salute the two of you in return, very happy for the both of you but won’t show it.

Meanwhile Daniela, Cassandra and Bela internally cringe when they see their mother lean over and kiss your cheek while waiting for desert.

“EWW mother! that’s gross!”

Donna Beneviento

She’s very terrified to tell her siblings about you, always anxious about what other people think about her.

However, you stand for none of that and pull her into a tight hug, assuring her that no matter what you’ll always love her.

After Miranda ended a family meeting and only the siblings remained, you cleared your throat to get the Lords attention.

Before you can even open your mouth to explain yourself Angie comes rushing around the corner with a huge grin on her face.

“THEY’RE DATING!! Aren’t they adorable?! You better think they’re adorable!”

Angie’s chaotic energy fills the room as she bounces from overly excited that she announced your relationship and threatening anyone that would think otherwise.

Donna waves her hand and Angie is summoned back to where she sits on her forearm. Your hand reaches down and takes her other hand that’s sitting by her side. Your fingers slot together perfectly as her slightly shaking and sweaty hands hold onto yours for dear life.

Alcina gives one of her large toothy grins, accentuated by her vibrant red lipstick.

“I must host a ball for the two of you at once!”

Moreau is slightly creeped out by Angie’s still very threatening stare but his smile is genuine as he beams at the two of you.

He’s super excited and definitely starts thinking of ways he can be a wingman to your relationship like planning dates, making gifts and maybe fishing out an old camera.

Karl having been rather close to you and Donna can’t be more happy for you both, especially Donna who he’s recently rekindled his friendship with.

He wraps her in a tight hug with his arms around her shoulder as he ruffles part of her hair.

“I’m really happy for you two, but don’t expect any of the sappy tears cause you ain’t getting any of it!”

Salvatore Moreau

It took a lot of failed attempts to get Salvatore to walk through the church’s door with his hand in yours.

After much trial and error, he’s finally ready to announce to his siblings about your relationship.

When you first walk in together, everyone is mildly shocked, you had been keeping it a secret for a while.

Alcina takes a long drag from her cigarette and points at your hands together, a smile breaking out on her face.

“It seems you’ve been busy Salvatore, I thought you never left that mine of yours but it seems I have been pleasantly surprised. I must say I am happy for you both.”

Pretty soon after, Angie comes running up to you and tugs on your leg. You look down at her as she jumps up and down with joy.

“Does that mean we’re like siblings now, you’re our in-law now!! You have to come and see the dolls Donna made! Ooh she can make you a doll for you and Sal!”

Heisenberg’s shock gets turned into bubbly laughter as he pats Salvatore on the back and looks over to you, excited as ever.

“I hope you’ve learnt how to get used to his nightly cheese obsession. I don’t know how you do it.”

You know he’s just being playful but deep down he’s still happy for the two of you in your relationship.

Eventually Mother Miranda arrives and you take your seat next to Salvatore, giving his shoulder a nudge and a playful wink as you hold his hand under the pew.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl has two moods when he thinks about announcing your relationship to his siblings.

It always varies between not giving a shit about what they say, being too tough to take criticism or rejection; ready to ignore whoever had something bad to say and completely freaking out that it could find its way back to Mother Miranda and be used against you both.

When you finally confide him to put down his tools, stump the cigar out and go over to his siblings and tell them he’s already boarder line freaking out.

The Lords stand at the ceremony cite, confused as to why they’ve been summoned without Miranda.

You stand there waiting for Karl to say something, as he stares back at you, pleading behind his glasses. You groan and face his siblings.

“Ugh fine i’ll do it you drama queen. EVERYONE! Karl and I are dating, there I said it for you!”

Alcina is the first to respond, cracking up with laughter as she sees her brother all embarrassed over such a small thing. She can’t deny that she’s happy for you and has known for a while that you were at least sweet on each other.

There have been many times where she’s caught you both staring at each other during family meetings or events and even heard whispers from the Duke about you both spending a lot of time together. Now her suspicions have been confirmed.

“My Dear, how you can stand him is beyond my knowledge but if he makes you happy then I welcome you into our family. Officially.”

Salvatore is beyond happy that you and Karl are together, knowing in some ways that the two of them are similar and have a habit of staying locked away in their respective domains without socialising with many people. So for him to hear that Karl finally found someone, he’s absolutely thrilled.

And Donna, well she’s so happy for the both of you. Both her and Angie love spending time with you and now that they’ve heard about your relationship she wants nothing more than to have lunch and talk for hours as you tell her all the little quirks about heisenberg that no one gets to see but you.

Soon all four lords make their way over to the Duke to get some lunch and any other supplies they might need. The whole time you hand is wrapped around Karl’s arm and you reach over to place a kiss on his cheek as he leans into you.

[dumbkatsu]

Can you stay? (part 2)

A/N:Hello everyone, I bring you part 2 of my Jun Wu x reader fanfic.

Click here for part 1

Warnings: may e a bit of ooc (system stfu) and a cameo and clichés and fluff

The days passed and slowly Wu started to be a part of your routine. You’d walk to the city together (of course the aunties already started spreading gossip of when you’d marry but you didn’t care). You’d feed the chickens in your yard while Wu fed the geese and milked your cow. 

She licked his face and his expression was priceless

He had fantastic marketing skills and almost every day you’d sell your entire stock! Other days he’d come hunting with you. And I must say you definitely impressed him with you skills ;)

On most days he would stay home cooking supper until you returned and then while you rested before the meal, he would clean the meat you brought.

One day you said you wanted to bring offerings in the nearby temple in the city center.

Well plot twist it was one of his temples.

As you both were walking inside the premises in the courtyard he stopped to ask: “Y/n what do you think of the Gods?”

You looked at him with a quizzical look. A bit thrown off by the question. As you looked into his face you noticed he was being serious. And not in the sarcastic way he is about most things.

I mean serious serious.

“Well I really haven’t thought about it much... I am grateful to them in a way because they protect us and give us courage by believing in them. But I can’t help but feel pity for them as well...”

“I see... Why do you pity them if I may ask?”

“I’m not  sure but, they seem like they always need to be perfect... Granted that the tales about them contribute to that, but in the end aren’t they just as human as us? They were normal folk like us before they ascended right? It must be a lot of pressure to never commit any mistakes, because you have you people counting on you...I don’t think I could handle stakes that high! Imagine being punished in a grand scale for one small mistake, when doing mistakes is in our nature... I wonder how much they have lost too... The consequences of their actions must take such a toll on them. I've heard of nations that crumbled to the ground without receiving the help of their God... I wonder if they feel powerless too, as ironic as it sounds."

Jun Wu couldn’t bear to look at you... the fact that you had that outlook of the officials, it made him feel immense shame.

“Although Wu don’t get me wrong I do believe in making mistakes when trying to do the right thing. You inherently tried and I think that has to count for something. The intention is what matters.”

He huffed. A slight smile painted on his deadpanned face. He took your hand gently “Let’s head inside”

After you set your incense and persimmons for the offering, you started praying.

You have no idea how happy he was when he heard your prayer.

“I hope he can stay with me.”

A few months passed and one day while you were returning from a quick errand from the neighbor farm. You were arriving home when you heard Wu’s voice and another voice you’ve never heard before.

“My Lord. please you must return! We are in dire need of you.”

“Ming Guang I already told you I can’t yet I’m-”

“You’re here playing houses while the heavens face dire crises!! Even Ling Wen can’t manage this alone!”

You peak through the door to find Wu and a man slightly shorter than him, adorning a very elaborate armor that looks like he’s a high rank general. his shiny hair tied into a ponytail and a scar over his face. This Ming Guang was very handsome if you said so yourself. Your eyes caught his magenta ones and he winked at you.

“Fine I’ll return in a few days. Just give me time. I will return in a week” Jun Wu sighed.

“Looks like you aren’t as alone as I thought my Lord. You can come out now dear!”

“Dang it” you mutter under your breath. You took a deep breath and walked into view of the two men looking away in embarrassment.

“Ah I now see why you were so keen on staying my Lord. She is absolutely breathtaking!”

“Ming Guang don’t push it”

“Ohohoho! I see where this is going. Well, I will take my leave then. I would hate to interrupt, unless you want some company darling?”

“No, thank you” You and Wu said. 

“Ah young love. And to think there are people who don’t believe in a fated person...” Pei Ming sighs dramatically. “Well then. We await you in the heavens my Lord”.

Soon the man disappeared in a light flash. You stood for a while in silence trying to process things. Then you turned to Wu very suddenly that he shook a bit in surprise.

“Well then mind explaining, my Lord?”

So he explained his real name is Jun Wu and that he was the Heavenly Martial Emperor and that he wanted to test humanity. 

“Oh gods I mean- Heavenly Emperor uh- I mean you- Ugh! i-”

“I understand that you are upset and I’m sorry I lied to you-”

“Yeah yeah yeah don’t worry about that. That day... in the temple... You heard my prayer?!!?”

“Is that all you took from this? Really? And me thinking that you would throw something at me”

“Just answer my question W- erhm, Great Heavenly Emperor”

“Don’t call me that please, Wu is fine. And yes I think that was obvious from the get go”

��you have got to be kidding me»

“No y/n I am not kidding. It’s a bit obvious”

“YOU CAN READ MINDS TOO?!?!?!”

“Only when I’m bored or I feel like it would be useful”

“Oh Gods”

“Speaking of which” he came closer to you tilting your chin up “I thought it was adorable the way you gushed about a complete stranger’s body, specially when taking care of their wound... so shameless hm?”

“I-i...“

“I was flattered when you said my torso was sculpted by the Gods themselves... In a way you’re not wrong though. It did took me a while to reach this shape.I am particularly fond of your comment saying that if you had the chance you would-”

“Shh that’s enough!!!! I get it I get it!!” you launched yourself to cover his mouth with your hands. You looked at his eyes and you knew he was smirking. He moved your hands to the side of his face.

“Getting more bold are we? I like it” he said kissing your hand. “But if we are going to be honest with each other I couldn’t deny that I love your shape as well...” He said in a low husky tone.

"..." you sucked in a breath. Completely stilled. His eyes drifted from your eyes to your rosy cheeks to your mouth.

He was leaning in. He's so close. In a breathy whisper that only you can hear he says "Can I kiss you?" you nod and the next second his lips are on yours.

You never felt more right kissing him. Your lips molded into each other in a careful dance. Your hands moved up his chest and wrapped themselves around his neck. Slightly pulling on his hair you controlled yourself to not moan on the spot. Your body was feeling heated as his big veiny hands traveled through your body.

Eventually you parted for air. Resting your forehead against his. "That was...Well you might have known how long I wanted to do this" "Yeah I think I might have an idea" he says chuckling.

"You must have heard Ming Guang... I'll have to go so-" you grab a hold of his robes burying your head in his chest.

"Can you stay?"

His breath hitched. You looked so fragile in that moment. Grabbing him for all that you got... Like he might disappear. Kissing the crown of your head he responds.

"For you I'll stay as long as you want."

[onelonelyghost0]

Thinking of story ideas last night for the AU, firstly holy hell I’m about to be kinda mean? To my babies? At first? But it’s ok they get a found family. Also Pacifica? Wants to be in this? Any other fic writers get that where a character goes “Let Me In” and you have to look at your outline and sigh?

Oh in other news I spent last nights dream being chased by bill cypher. Through the woods. No I am not kidding. Wtf.

[angelasscribbles]

Savage Love Chapter 23: Auvernall

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: R         

Warnings: Mature themes, lemons mentioned

Word Count: 2,816

A/N: Special shoutout to @nestledonthaveone (she'll understand why at the end)

My other stuff: Master List.

Dinner, packing, limo ride to the airport, and a plane ride later we arrived in Auvernall. We went from the airport straight to Liam’s grandfathers’ estate. It was late and Lord Rutherford Castellanos was already in bed asleep. He’d left orders for the staff to show us to our rooms with his apologies. He’d see us at breakfast.

I once again found myself in the position of having to choose between them or spend the night alone. I opted for alone.

I was used to sleeping by myself. Or, I had been. The last couple of months I had gotten used to having Drake in my bed almost every night. Any night he wasn’t there, was usually because I was with Liam.

I hadn't spent but a bare minimum number of nights alone since I’d arrived in Cordonia. So, you’d think I’d relish the privacy. I probably needed a break from both of them. But I found myself lying awake in the dark, thinking about how they were both just down the hall.

Memories of Nick also poured through my mind, but for different reasons. Things I hadn’t thought about in years broke through the surface of my consciousness. I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. Sleep was elusive and fitful when it finally came.

I overslept the next morning. I hadn’t done that in years. I dressed quickly and headed downstairs to find the men already seated around the dining room table. “Why didn’t someone wake me up?”

All three men rose to their feet as I entered the room as a matter of propriety. But Lord Castellanos simply gave me a small bow and greeting whereas Drake and Liam both stumbled out of their chairs to try and pull one out for me.

Liam made it to a chair first. He brushed a soft kiss across my check as he pulled out the seat for me. I leaned my cheek toward him to make it easy, then I turned to Drake and tipped my head in his direction so he could give me a quick peck on the other check, which he did while taking my hand in his, “We thought you could use the extra sleep.”

“Hm.” I replied.

“Riley, I’d like to formally introduce you to my grandfather, Lord Rutherford Castellanos.” Liam gestured toward the older man.

“Lord Rutherford,” I inclined my head, “How lovely to meet you. I see where Liam gets his good looks.”

The older man chuckled, “Which one of us are you trying to charm my dear, me or my grandson?”

I raised my eyebrows in mock alarm, “Can’t it be both?”

That earned me another chuckle. “Diplomatic too, I see.”

“She’s very diplomatic, as well as smart and beautiful.” Liam informed his grandfather.

“Don’t forget funny and brave.” Drake added.

Lord Castellanos gave me an appraising look, “You seem to have quite the fan club young lady.”

“I just have them fooled.” I winked at him as I buttered my toast.

“They aren’t wrong, my dear, you certainly seem to be all of those things.”

“Why thank you my lord.”

“Please, call me Rud. Everyone does.”

“They do not!” Liam grinned at me, “He makes everyone call him Lord Castellanos unless he really likes them!”

“Well, then.” I gave him one of my most brilliant smiles, “Rud it is! And you can call me Riley. None of this Lady Riley or Princess Riley bullshit.”

Rud laughed and it was a deep guffaw, a genuine and true sound. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed and the sparkle in them reminded me of Liam.  

After everyone had eaten and the plates had been cleared away, and fresh coffee had been poured, Rud turned to Liam with curiosity lighting his eyes, “I’m always happy to see you Liam, but you don’t just drop in on a moment’s notice, nor do you bring guests, so do you want to tell me what this is about?”

Liam sighed and his eyes found mine. I reached for his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. I gave him an encouraging smile and he smiled back.

“To be honest, some information has come to light, and I have some questions about my mother.”

“I see.” Pain flickered behind Rud’s eyes and my heart ached for him. Losing his only daughter couldn’t have been easy for him. “What kind of questions?”

Liam looked at me for help. I decided to just dive in, “Can I be blunt?”

He gave me a curt nod, “I prefer it.”

“Is there any chance your daughter had another child? After Liam?”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“We found a day minder that belonged to Eleanor that seems to indicate she was pregnant in the year before her death. The date indicated as her due date coincides with her last visit here before…”

“Before her murder. You can say it. I sure haven’t forgotten.”

“Exactly. Right before her murder. There are rumors of a secret heir, and they could be just that, baseless rumors, but…”

“But if I have another grandchild out there, I need to know.” His eyes flicked to Liam, “We all need to know.”

“Yes, grandfather. But…” Liam looked down at the tabletop before pulling in a deep breath, “If she was pregnant, why didn’t my father know?”

“Are you sure he didn’t?” Rud asked.

“I feel like he would have mentioned it if he knew he had a missing child.” Liam replied.

Drake and I exchanged glances. There was at least an outside chance that the child wasn’t Constantine’s. It was the only reason I could come up with for a woman hiding her pregnancy from her husband.

“Well, I didn’t see your mother on her last trip home, unfortunately. I was out of the country at the time. And your grandmother and I were divorced by then, so she wouldn’t have necessarily told me. Assuming there’s anything to tell.”

“So this is a dead end.” Liam sighed.

“Not necessarily.” Rud said.

“What do you mean?” Liam asked.

“I mean…if your mother came here to have a secret baby, then your grandmother’s best friend would know about it. She’s a doctor after all.”

“What’s her name?” Drake asked.

“Dr. Katherine Boedecker. Come on Liam, I’ll get her number for you.”

Liam followed his grandfather out of the room. Drake moved over to take the seat next to me. His copper and gold flecked eyes searched mine as he draped an arm across the back of my chair. “How’d you sleep?”

I flushed a little as I lied, “Fine.”

“You can tell me the truth.” He said as his finger brushed over my cheek, “I know I slept like shit.”

“Don’t sleep well in new places?” I asked.

“That’s not why.” He answered. “I’ve always been a light sleeper and yes, that’s even worse in unfamiliar places but…”

“But?” I raised my eyebrows in question.

“I slept like shit the night before last too.” He didn’t elaborate on why and I thought it prudent not to ask. I knew what he was implying.

“I’m sorry, have you tried white noise?” I looked away from him to sip my coffee.

He leaned in and put his mouth to my ear, his voice low as warm breath pattered across my skin, making me shiver, “I missed you, missed your body pressed against mine, missed waking up next to you, missed having my face buried between your legs first thing in the morning…”

Oh. My god. Heat coiled in my center then spread out, tendrils snaking through every inch of my body. My eyes fell closed and my head tipped to the side. My teeth dug into my bottom lip as fire erupted along the side of my neck where his lips brushed it.  

He pulled back and gave me that signature panty dropping grin of his as we heard footsteps in the hallway. I hurriedly regained my composure before Liam and Rud entered the room.

It had only been twenty four hours since Drake and I had done the deed in Liam’s shower, but damned if my body wasn’t reacting as if I hadn’t had sex in months. He was still too close for comfort. I could smell him, I could feel the energy pulsing off his body and it was doing things to me.

Contrary to the lie I’d just told Drake, I had not enjoyed sleeping alone. I had not enjoyed waking up alone and I’m not sure when that happened. I’d been waking up alone for years, and sleeping alone, like a baby. On the rare occasions I spent the night with someone, it made it harder to sleep. People snore, they move around at night. They take the covers and invade my side of the bed. They wake up too early, or not early enough. I don’t like it.

Or at least, I didn’t. I hadn’t since Nick. That was the last actual relationship I had been in and we had crashed and burned spectacularly. I made a vow after that not to get emotionally involved again and I had kept that promise to myself.

Until now.

My eyes lifted to meet Drake’s and my lips curved up into a smile even though I struggled against it. Then I looked up at Liam and I felt my heart stutter in my chest. Jesus, I was in so much fucking trouble.

The number Rud gave us was correct, but it wasn’t being picked up. It just kept rolling to voicemail.

“Now what?” Liam asked.

“Now I guess we’re going to her.” I replied.

“I’ll have the car brought around.” Drake said.

“I’ll get you her home and office address.” Rud followed Drake out of the room, leaving me alone with Liam.

“Liam, thank you.”

He gave me a quizzical look, “For?”

“It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you haven’t pressured me for answers about Nick.”

“You’ll tell me whatever I need to know when you’re ready. Whatever it is, it’s part of your past and your past is part of what made you the person you are today, and I like the person you are today.” He took my hand in his and kissed the back of it.

I studied his face and there was nothing but sincerity in it. He wasn’t threatened by my past with Nick. He wasn’t threatened by my present with Drake. He was still convinced that our destinies were intertwined and he was patiently waiting for me to figure that out and agree with him.

As convinced as he was, he wasn’t being territorial, he wasn’t being presumptuous, he wasn’t doing any of the things I’d come to associate with men marking their territory. Not that I was territory to be marked, that kind of thinking was exactly the problem. But he didn’t seem to think like that.

I was starting to question things. Chief among them, my sanity. This was madness. Even entertaining the notion that either of them could be something….more.

They couldn’t.

I mean, they could. Either one of them would make a remarkable life partner. Both of them, each in their own way, had more or less laid their heart on the table for me. The issue was me. I was the hot mess, I was the emotionally unavailable one, I was the problem.

Even if I wasn’t leaving at the end of all this, even if I was willing to do the long distance relationship thing, which heart did I pick up and which did I shatter? Once again, my inability to choose between them was going to doom me to end up without either of them.

My thoughts were broken by Rud informing us that Drake was waiting by the front door, the car was ready. Liam offered me his hand and I took it. He pulled me out of my seat and brushed a soft kiss across my lips before lacing his fingers through mine and heading for the dining room door.

“Thank you!” I told Rud on the way out.

“Yes, thank you, grandfather.” Liam echoed, “We’ll see you at dinner!”

Then we were in a car heading into Moorehaven, the largest city in Rud’s duchy and home to Katherine Boedecker, M.D.

Her office was in a high rise in the business district, not the medical district. Likely because she catered to the elite and this was a more convenient location for them. Liam talked his way past building security, primarily because one of them recognized him. We rode the elevator to the seventh floor.

A middle aged blonde woman sat behind the reception desk. She tapped her manicured nails impatiently against the top of her desk, “I don’t care who you are, no one gets in without an appointment.”

“It’s a matter of great importance to both Auvernall and Cordonia.” Liam insisted.

Drake scanned the office then made a beeline for one of the doors. I hurried after him.

“Wait!” The receptionist yelled out, “You can’t just-“

But we just did. Drake flung the door open as Liam caught up with us.

Liam’s grandfather was in his eighties. If his grandmother were still alive, she’d be in her late seventies. It was a good bet that her best friend was in the same age range. So the thirty something woman with the short brunette bob sitting behind the desk was not her.

“I’m so sorry, Anita!” The receptionist called from behind us, “I told them they needed an appointment!”

“It’s ok, Susan.” The brunette dismissed her with a wave of her hand then gave us a decidedly unfriendly look, “Who are you and why have you so rudely burst into my office?”

“We were looking for Dr. Boedecker.” Drake said.

“Yes, well, as Susan pointed out, you need an appointment for that and since she’s mostly retired, she’s not taking on any new patients.”

“We’re not patients,” Liam explained, “She was my grandmother’s best friend.”

Anita’s face softened a little, “You’re Liam?”

“Yes! And I have some questions about my mother than only Katherine can answer. Please, it’s important!”

“I’m sorry, I truly am. But she’s not here right now, she retired so she could focus on her charity work. She runs a group of free clinics across the country and that takes up all her time.”

Auvernall was a county with a sprawling military industrial complex but no health care for the uninsured.

“Can you tell us where to find her?” I asked.

Her eyes flicked to me, the annoyance back, “No. She’s quite busy. If you’d like an appointment, I can get you on her schedule for…..” she glanced down at her phone and swiped a few times, “Early next month.”

“That’s unacceptable, we need to speak with her as soon as possible!” Drake said.

“Well, too bad.” The woman shrugged, “You can schedule an appointment with Susan on the way out-“

“She’s already in a meeting!” Susan yelled from the other room as the door swung open again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, does no one have manners anymore?” Anita exploded.

A young man with reddish blond hair barreled into the room, “We’re in trouble ‘Nita!”

“Christ Roland! What now?”

“Our closing act for the charity talent show just canceled!”

“What?” She jumped up from her chair and started digging through piles of paper, “They can’t! They signed a contract! Hold on, I have it right here-“

“The entire band has the flu! Unforeseeable circumstances, there’s a clause in the contract for that.” The young man informed her.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The concert is in two days! We can’t cancel it! The foundation needs the money to continue running the clinics! Where the hell are we going to get a band in two days?”

“Ah, excuse me?” I spoke up.

She whirled on me, “What?”

“I know where you can get a band.”

She froze. “You do?”

Liam turned to me in astonishment, “You do?”

Drake stiffened at my side, “Oh, no.”

“Yes, I do. But we will require a meeting with Dr. Boedecker, tonight! Tomorrow at the latest. Get me that and I’ll get you a band.”

Her eyes bore into me with a doubtful expression, “What band?”

“Squid Whiskey.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Liam.

Anita narrowed her eyes in suspicion, “I’ve never heard of them. Are they good?”

“Oh yes,” I replied, “Very popular in Cordonia. I can have them here by tomorrow.”

I hoped.

Anita seemed to hesitate and Roland spoke up, “We’re desperate ‘Nita, we need a band. I think I’ve heard of them!”

She turned to him, “You think?”

He shrugged, “It’s them, or we have to cancel the show. I’ve called every band I can think of already.”

“Fine!” She huffed, “Get the band here by tomorrow afternoon and you’ll get your meeting with Katherine.”

[violetflowerswrites]

Always Been This Way

Summary: Chrissy and Eddie have been secretly meeting up in the woods afterschool to get high together. One afternoon, their meeting gets far steamier than either of them had expected.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Disclaimer: mentions of drug use, allusions to trauma. Soft, silly, and insecure Eddie. Kissing, touching, and consensual oral sex (female receiving). Some swearing. This is pretty freakin smutty so 18+ for explicit smut and language. No spoilers for Stranger Things 4.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I am still not over the ending of Stranger Things 4 and then I saw all of the  beautiful artwork by @bloomsbury​ (the one that inspired this fic got taken down by tumblr - link below!) and I couldn’t help but imagine what it might have been like if Chrissy and Eddie could have gotten together if everything else didn’t happen. This is just my smutty smutty brain trying desperately to make this ship real! Hope you guys like it! 

“You’re not what I’d thought you’d be.”  

“A freak?”

…

Chrissy threw her head back in ecstasy, her fingers tangled in Eddie Munson’s mess of curls, and his tongue buried deep in her slick center.

As she panted for breath, moaning her pleasure, Chrissy thought back to how they got here in the first place.

She remembered the clock chiming 4 times, haunting her with a living nightmare. That is, until Eddie showed up in the middle of the woods, carrying nothing but a box of weed and his signature charm. With him, the feelings of fear washed away like standing in the middle of a rainstorm and letting the water run down the ends of your fingertips.

So she kept coming back.

And coming back.

And soon, that turned into more. Like, way more than she or Eddie could have ever imagined.

It started with sneaking a joint afterschool a few times a week, at their secluded picnic table in the woods. Eddie liked to call it “Lothlórien'' after the elven kingdom in Lord of the Rings.

“Welcome back to Lothlórien, Chrissy.” Eddie announced, perched precariously on the edge of the table, his bare knee exposed through his ripped jeans.

“What?” Chrissy replied, confused.

Eddie gasped in mock shock. “You don’t – you’ve never…? Chrissy, I am offended!”

“What! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Chrissy laughed, her blue eyeshadow-clad eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Lord of the Rings? The Shire? Lothlórien? Elves?” Eddie gestured wildly in the air before rubbing a hand down his face as Chrissy shook her head.

“Okay, today’s lesson is gonna be on the Lord of the Rings. And you, Chrissy my dear, are gonna be an expert by the end of this. Or, should I call you Galadriel?” Eddie declared.

“Gala…who?” Chrissy took a seat beside Eddie, her hip bumping into his on the table. Eddie glanced down at how close she was next to him, and quickly decided not to mention anything. Nothing in the world was going to make him move now.

“Galadriel. The Queen of the Elves.” Eddie explained.

“You think I’m a queen?” Chrissy giggled.

“Well, you are the queen of Hawkins High aren’t you?” Eddie retorted.

“Then, what does that make you?” She asked instead.

“I don’t know? A hobbit? A dwarf?” Eddie joked.

Now it was Chrissy’s turn to gasp in mock shock. “Oh, I think you’re much too cute to be a dwarf. Even though you’ve got the hair for it.”

Eddie turned to face her, a blush creeping into his cheeks. Did she just call him cute?

Meanwhile, Chrissy was looking right at him, her big blue eyes searching his face, her expression open and inviting and…mischievous?

Eddie started to lean closer to her, just as she tilted her head up to him and before either of them could think twice, they shared a tentative kiss.

“Chrissy, what are we doing?” Eddie whispered, his head pressed against her forehead after he broke the kiss.

“Eddie, make me forget. I’ll be your Galadriel or whoever you want. I just…I wanna forget about everything today. With you.” Chrissy admitted in a rushed breath.

Eddie grabbed the sides of her arms and pulled her in once again, kissing her deeply. Little did she know that ever since that damned Hawkins Middle School Talent Show, he’d had the biggest crush of Chrissy freakin’ Cunningham. And he couldn’t believe that right now, in 1986 on a random afternoon in the middle of the woods, he was sitting here, kissing her.

“Can I…?” Eddie began, too nervous to finish his sentence.

“You can do whatever you want to me, Eddie.” Chrissy panted, her chest breathless from that second kiss.

Eddie didn’t need any further invitation. He hopped off the table and desperately clawed off his jean jacket, the buttons and pins and zips on it rattling as he finally got it off his body and laid it on the wood.

“M’lady, if you please.” Eddie bowed and waved an arm towards the impromptu blanket, grinning to hide all of the uncertainty bubbling up in his stomach at what he was about to do.

Chrissy thankfully sat down on his jacket, and took off her own. Before he lost his nerve, Eddie bent down again and kissed her waiting pink lips, which she quickly returned. While one hand caressed her cheek, the other slid down her left arm, before gently lifting up the edge of her skirt, and pushing against her inner thigh. To Eddie’s surprise, Chrissy immediately let him open her legs in a silent confirmation that yes, she truly meant that he could do anything he wanted to her.

Anything.

So, Eddie let his fingers explore Chrissy’s body, his hand quickly finding her cotton-clad core, and he swiped up, briefly. Gently. Lightly.

But Chrissy still jumped. And said nothing. She simply smiled into the kiss, and continued to let her lips do all the talking against Eddie’s.

So Eddie did it again. And again. Until Chrissy was moaning aloud and finally, she pushed Eddie back and braced herself on his shoulders, looking down at Eddie “the freak” Munson’s hand disappearing underneath her green cheerleader skirt. She flicked her head up, her bangs flopping messily onto her forehead.

“Eddie…can I have more?” Chrissy requested, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at him with those big doe eyes and Eddie melted on the spot.

He nodded rapidly, his hair becoming a tornado around his head. Eddie planted himself on the bench, his face directly across from Chrissy’s waiting center, and he was just about ready to make Chrissy forget her name, her address, her problems–everything– when she suddenly said…

“Wait.”

Those four letters were enough to make Eddie freeze and he was sure it was over. Every sexual fantasy that he’d had about Chrissy Cunningham, which were somehow miraculously coming true today, were gonna be stopped in their tracks. He knew it was too good to be true. Chrissy was too good. Too good for him at least. He was too much of a freak, an outsider. Chrissy was a cheerleader for Christ’s sake and who was he? A DnD addict who sold drugs from his Uncle’s crappy trailer and couldn’t graduate from high school for the third time in a row. Yeah, that was it. Chrissy realized she’s too good for him and this was all a huge freakin’ mistake.

But what happened next surprised him. It surprised the shit out of him.

Chrissy simply reached up and pulled the green scrunchie off of her ponytail and gathered Eddie’s hair in her hands, tying it up neatly at the back of his head.

“There. Now you can keep going.” Chrissy smiled sweetly down at him, admiring how she could see his cute face better with his hair pulled back.

Eddie looked up in awe, watching as Chrissy’s gorgeous strawberry blonde now cascaded down her shoulders, the afternoon sunlight catching the golden strands of her hair.

It was at that moment that he knew he was a goner for Chrissy Cunningham.

So he pulled down her panties and ate her out like she had never experienced before. His tongue dove as deep as it could into her center, licking lines up and down her folds. Her right hand clutched Eddie’s jacket on the table, twisting the fabric as he kept his assault on her sensitive flesh going.

Eddie’s hands gripped Chrissy’s soft thighs as tightly as he could, bringing her legs up over his shoulders so that he could bury himself inside her as much as possible. She tasted salty and sweet at the same time, and her juices dribbled down his chin in the sexiest way he could have ever imagined.

In fact, this was far better than anything he had ever imagined. Far better.

Because he couldn’t have imagined the way Chrissy would sound, her soft whimpers and quiet gasps filling the silence of the forest.

He couldn’t have imagined how beautiful Chrissy would look, with her head flung back and her loose hair getting tangled by the breeze as she trembled with pleasure.

And he definitely couldn’t have imagined how he would feel her hand tangled in his hair, pulling not so gently on it. And that he decided he quite liked having a little bit of pain with his pleasure.

Eddie’s lips soon found Chrissy’s sensitive nub and she let out a yelp when he finally pressed a soft kiss to it. Knowing that he had struck gold, Eddie licked circles around Chrissy’s clit, her core throbbing at his touch. He knew she was close when her thighs started to shake in his vice-like grip and she mewled underneath him. His face was smothered in her skin and his mind was filled with nothing but the scent of her sex and the single goal of making her cum.

When Chrissy came, she let out a single scream, followed by both of her hands digging into Eddie’s shoulders so hard that they bruised. Her whole body shuddered as orgasm traveled through her small frame from head to toe. Eventually though, she crumpled on top of Eddie, her fingers pulling at the hair at the base of his neck until he lifted his head up and smacked a sloppy wet kiss onto her lips.

Their breath mingled in warm, shallow pants as they both fought to calm down after that hot as fuck exchange. But the panting turned into giggling and the giggling soon turned into a fit of laughter.

“Chrissy– holy shit, Chrissy that was…” Eddie tried to speak in between giggles.

“Hot.” Chrissy laughed.

“Yeah. Hot. Sexy. Crazy!” Eddie returned her laughter. “What if I call you Chrissy CUMMINGham from now on?”

Chrissy gasped in surprise and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “EDDIE! You’re insane!”

“Every day, Chrissy. Every day.” Eddie replied, laying down on the wooden picnic table, totally spent.

Chrissy fell back with him, her hand folding into his as naturally as if it had always been this way.

[hhawks]

relishing in the idea that mr eren jaeger has a corruption kink LORD pining after the school sweetheart, playing a game, just to get her into the palm of his hand. he wants to break past that angel exterior and find out what's really going on in that ditsy little head. he wants to be the only one that gets to fuck her dumb. my inner hopeless romantic, however, wants to think he falls madly in love with her throughout the process, but i also believe he'd just see her as a trophy lucky enough to get some of his attention :( some brainrot for u SCREAMS -lilith 🪐

lilith my dear you are speaking my language rn because i KNOW that man has a corruption kink and WHILE we are at it i am so sure he has a god kink/complex as well.

now imagine that you are class president, resident good girl who eren pursues because he is obsessed with the idea of breaking you, of finding out what's going on behind your obedient girl facade and you shake him off because god you can't stand him. you don't understand why all your friends fawn over him, it's not like he's nice, or sweet. you admit, he's handsome, yeah his voice is sweet as sugar when he's whispering taunts in your ear, yeah his eyes are bright and pretty when he's staring you down every morning. but you hate him because the teachers make you chase him for his tardiness, you're in charge of his detention, you constantly find yourself in places you don't want to be alone with him. you hate him, you've convinced yourself, so why are you letting him flip your skirt up, smoothing a big hand over the curve of your back as he presses you over a table?

"god, you're so pretty like this, you know?" he's leaning over you, breath hot against the shell of your ear. you kick him, flipping over so you're facing him.

"and you're not half bad when you shut the fuck up." how did you even get into this predicament? was it the weeks he'd spent all up in your space during your mandated tutoring sessions, or was it the way he'd glared anyone down when they so much as looked your way during sasha's party? you don't know; and even less, you don't know why you let it happen. you don't know why he'd grown on you so suddenly, but you catch yourself thanking god that this room was empty when you all but dragged him in after an hour of building tension during your tutoring session.

he fucks you gently, keeping an eye on your face as he feeds his cock into you. he's not usually this slow, this considerate. eren's the kind to fuck and dump, just get what he wants and leaves but with you? it feels different. it isn't the adrenaline of finally breaking in some goody two shoes girl, not the excitement of getting the teacher's pet at his feet, begging for his cock like they'd die without it. no, this time it's different, it's you, with your sweet saccharine moans and eyes squeezing tightly at the sensation of his cock stretching you out. you aren't a virgin like he thought you would be, but god is he so much bigger than anyone you've ever taken. and he's guiding you through it, holding your hips up so he can pound himself deeper into you, whispering, "i bet no one's ever fucked you like this, right?" because god forbid he let his facade down, let you know how he actually feels about you. his hand wraps around your throat, the cut off of air to your head making your mind go hazy. you're babbling and it's incoherent, almost cute when you whine as he sucks bruises into your unmarked skin. "i bet you've never felt this good."

and you're still holding out a little, still a little fiesty, muttering, "shut up, you're not half as good as you think you ar-" but your words cut off when he hits a spot so deep in you, the one you're never able to find on your own, the one that has you creaming all over his cock. and he laughs, the bastard laughs as your eyes roll back and you let out a strangled moan.

"say that again? poor little angel's so fucked up, can't even finish her sentences." his poor heart's bursting, belly on fire because he wants this to last as long as he can go. he doesn't want it to end, doesn't want it to be a one time thing, so he staves off his release. "tell me, baby, tell me how you feel."

it's lost to you, the fight; he's won and you both know it. so when you're murmuring, "full, so full it feels so good, oh my god," his hips are stuttering in you and his orgasm's holding him at ransom.

"crying for your god, are you? i'm the only god around here sweetheart, only one who makes you feel this good." he's grunting through his teeth, so much self control going into fucking you with so much vigour you're shaking towards a second orgasm. "you gonna cum again? cum for your god?"

and when you cum, stuttering a, "fuck, yeah, you're my god," he's falling apart too, hands trembling and ribcage tightening because god, he's just fucked the girl of his dreams and there's just something about the fact that he has the smartest girl in school fucked dumb on his cock

[pinkteapotwriting]

Not so Innocent desires

Wolfstar x fem!reader

Warning : This is so filthy dear lord, explicit sexual content, Sub!fem reader, spanking, oral, innocence kink and I think that’s it

Just good ol fashioned smut

Summary : Turns out you Remus and Sirius want to treat you a certain way, it takes some special kind of convincing from your end though.

Word count : 3164

The lovely @fionanovasleftnut had a wonderful idea that I couldn’t resist writing about. I’m not sure with how this one turned out but I hope I did the idea justice. xXx

---

Being a family friend of the Weasleys had its perks. You always had someone to stick up for you, always had someone who could make you laugh, and you always had a home with them, wherever that may be. You had moved out on your own as soon as you graduated from Hogwarts, but it seemed that wasn’t the way to start your life as a young adult. The wizarding world was at war and Molly Weasley was insistent that one of her adopted daughters should not be defenseless living alone. 

You had tried to reassure her that you would be fine, you even approached your most likely allies.

“Fred, George please tell her I’ll be fine. You understand right?” They only chuckled at your cute pout and brushed your concerns aside.

So no. No one was willing to risk the parting of their lovely Y/N.

You were too kindhearted, too sweet, too pure. A ray of sunshine in these dark times, too precious to leave unprotected. 

You had been so angry at first, but your anger was soon turned into bashfulness as you were met by two very attractive men. Of course you knew Professor Lupin, he was your teacher and even now words from his mouth directed your way made heat rise to your face.

 Then there was Sirius Black. His long black hair framed his face perfectly. His stormy grey eyes made you completely weak at the knees. 

Everything about these two men left you flustered, Remus’s quick wit, Sirius’s hearty laugh, the knowing glances they’d share, Remus’s scars you just wanted to spend hours tracing, and Sirius’s ring clad fingers that tapped impatiently against the table. For being in Azkaban for 12 years his hands sure looked strong and capable. 

It was a blessing and a curse really. You got to admire two very attractive men, yet you couldn’t manage much more than bashful nods at times. That didn’t stop them from approaching you however. They were so kind and welcoming, so much so that you took up Sirius’s offer to stay there rather than at the Weasleys. He knew you valued your alone time and got anxious in large groups so he thought you’d appreciate your own room rather than crowding in with the Weasleys. It was all good and well.

Except for how often you found yourself rubbing your thighs together at night to ease some sort of tension. Nothing could stop the wetness that pooled in your underwear at the memory of Sirius clenching his jaw in anger as Snape talked, or the way Remus calmed him down by rubbing his hand up and down his thigh. So once again that night you found yourself with that familiar ache you just didn’t know how to satisfy on your own. Your fingers just weren’t good enough. You got up in a huff to get some water at an attempt to calm down. You slipped down the hallway silently, but the sound of a low moan coming from Sirius’s room stopped you in your tracks. The door was slightly ajar and although you knew you shouldn’t peek in, the dull throbbing of your clit convinced you to stay. You had to stifle your own moan at the sight in front of you. 

Sirius was sitting on the edge of his four poster king sized bed while Remus was on his knees between his legs jacking him off.

“Fuck Pads, how was it already this hard I’ve hardly touched you.”

“It’s not my fault! Blame Y/N with those stupid lips she bites. And her big doe eyes and and- fuck Moony that feels so good.” 

Remus grinned at the chance to tease Sirius.

“Not as good as Y/N would feel though right? Bet you’d love to have her little hands wrapped around your cock huh. Imagine if you got to stretch out her perfect little pussy. She’s so fucking innocent, so pure”

“I wanna ruin her god she’s pretty, but at the same time she’s so precious I don’t wanna taint her. She deserves something more gentle and sweet.”

“You’re certainly smitten aren’t you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t wanna fuck her to the brink of tears. Have you heard that cute little giggle? Imagine what her whines sound like. I just wanna watch as you wrap your big hands round her thro-”

“S’that what you want? You wanna make innocent little Y/N our cockslut. Wanna make her our needy puppy. Wonder how many times we could make her come with just our fingers.”

“Fuck Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah that’s right love, cum to the picture of fucking her mercilessly, her nails scratching down your back cause you’re fucking her so hard.”

You watched Sirius shudder while Remus’s face lit up in victory. You decided it was best to leave before they were no longer distracted. 

Well, that certainly didn’t make you any less riled up. Looks like they wanted you as much as you wanted them. You knew you’d have to put your shyness aside, but how on earth do you talk to someone about that. Yes, hello I find you two super hot and I’d just love it if you’d degrade me and throw me around thank you so much. Frankly you never knew you wanted that yourself until you heard the words fall from their lips with ease. You put your plan in motion as you traveled back to your room, praying it would work.

---

You were giddy when you woke up, anxious for the day that awaited you. You decided to wear a shirt that Remus had once complimented, suddenly much more aware of how it complimented your chest. You paired it with your shortest skirt and thigh high socks. You turned around and shoulder checked to appreciate yourself, knowing if you bent over too much anyone could see the white lace thong you had underneath.

You knew the order meeting was starting earlier than usual so you pranced down the stairs and were met with a dumbstruck Ron and Ginny.

“Blimey Y/N, who are you trying to shag?” He was instantly met with a slap by Ginny.

“Shut it Ron, don’t talk about Y/N like that you git. You look adorable.” She reassured.

You smiled sweetly at her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks Gin, I’m gonna go get breakfast now.”

You swear you saw Remus and Sirius give a double take when you entered the kitchen. Pleased your plan was going well you continued into the next phase and sat between Fred and George casually as if your heart wasn’t racing a million miles an hour. Any laugh that the twins could pull from your lips were met with a hard stare from Sirius and Remus. Normally Remus could keep a calm disposition but you could notice the look of contempt in his eyes as his hand clenched the edge of the table. 

 You pushed your chair back and made your way to the sink. 

“Here Molly, let me help you clean up.”

“Thank you dear, you can just grab the dishes from the table love.” 

You made your way round the table and once you reached where your two admirers were you squeezed between them and bent over to grab the last plate, feeling your skirt ride up high enough to gain a sharp intake of breath from Sirius. 

“Sorry, it was just easier to get it this way.” 

You smiled to yourself as you helped Molly finish cleaning. Everything cycled out and everyone rearranged where they sat as they tidied up before the meeting began. You were thrilled at the chance to sit between Remus and Sirius now that everyone had moved. You leaned forward so you could rest your chin on your hand as Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke of the newest updates happening within the ministry. Fred and George would sometimes try to throw you off by making funny faces, but they were met by a hard glare by Remus which instantly simmered them down, while Sirius placed his arm around the back of your chair in a possessive manner. Welp, now was as good a time as ever to test the waters. You leaned back into your chair and crossed one leg over the other so your foot would brush against Sirius’s calf. He passed a glance, and you took a deep breath and moved it up and down his leg. You smirked at how you saw his hands clench and that spurred you on to lightly place your hand on Remus’s thigh.

“Y/N love, what are you doing exactly” Remus’s voice was shaky, like he was holding back.

Time to ice the cake.

“Nothing Remmy, I’m just being innocent little Y/N.”

Sirius’s head swerved at that one and you couldn’t help but notice the growing tent in his trousers.

---

It took forever for everyone to leave after the meeting. It took even longer to convince Molly that you were fine to stay here rather than go back to the burrow.

“Alright Y/N if you’re sure, but you know how to reach me if you need anything at all right?”

“Of course Molly.”

If she knew what you wanted these two men to do to you she would be dragging you by the ear out the door. But finally, finally she left.

Leaving you alone with two straight faced men whose expressions were unreadable. Remus was the first to break the silence. 

“Y/N, did you over hear our conversation last night”

You nodded, but Sirius wasn’t having it.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna answer out loud for us pretty girl. You don’t get to tease us the way you do then act all shy now.”

“Yes, I heard.”

Remus returned to questioning you. “Yeah, and did you like what you heard?”

“I- I did.”

“Didn’t know you were such a naughty girl” Sirius chortled, “wish I would have known sooner.”

“I’m not naughty!”

“Oh yeah what makes you say that?”

“Cause I wanna be your good girl, please make me your good girl.”

Remus was hypnotised by the puppy dog eyes and pouty lips looking up at him.

“Shhh we’ve got you puppy, we just thought you’d want something more gentle.”

“No Remmy, I want you.”

“You can have me darling, let's go upstairs.”

He offered his hand to you and you took it eagerly, and began your journey upstairs, earning a chuckle from Sirius as you snatched his hand too on the way. As soon as you entered they had their hands on you, Sirius had you pressed against Remus as he was kissing your neck. 

“You sure you want this love?”

“Please Siri.”

“Alright pup, safe word is red okay? Any point you feel uncomfortable you tell us and we’ll stop immediately. Can you say it for me?” 

“Red.”

“Good girl,” Remus praised “Here, let's take all this off since it’s not covering much anyway.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for Remus while Sirius got on his knees to take off your skirt. He debated leaving the socks on, but he wanted you to feel every single thing so he took them off. Now last, but certainly not least. 

“As cute as these panties are, they're only in my way, can I take these off precious?”

“M Hmm.”

Remus was quite content to take off your bra and massage your breasts and nibble across your shoulders while Sirius continued his attempts to draw dirty words from your clean mouth.

“Baby, your pussy is so wet right now. Can I touch it, love?”

You spread your legs further for him as an invitation.

“Not here, our precious girl deserves to be comfy on the bed.” 

Remus sat against the headboard and motioned for you to follow suit between his thighs.

You practically skipped there, so excited for what was about to happen. You sat down with a quick plop and wiggled your hips to get more comfy, eyes wide as Sirius crawled up from the end of the bed to push your legs apart and gently trace your inner thighs with his forefinger.

“Tell me pup, have you ever touched yourself?”

You nodded bashfully, which Remus did not enjoy apparently as he lightly slapped your thigh with one hand while the other grabbed hold of your jaw to force your eyes onto Sirius fully.

“What did we say about speaking out loud pup, be a good girl.”

“Sorry Remmy, I got embarrassed, I do touch myself Siri”

Sirius grinned, “What makes you touch yourself sweet girl.”

“You, you and Moony do.” He relished in the whine that escaped your lips as he finally made contact with your aching clit, clearly he liked that answer.

“What do you imagine us doing to you pup.”

You moaned as his pace quickened. “Anything, anything you want.”

That’s when his tongue made contact on your clit instead. You jolted at the sudden change, but Remus was quick to hold you down.

“That feel good, sweetheart? I love Siri’s tongue too.” 

You could only throw your head back and mewl as Sirius’s tongue flicked faster and he added a finger to the mix, completely enthralled with how your entrance clenched around it desperately.

“Pads I think our pretty girl is gonna cum keep going. Has anyone ever made you feel this good puppy? Fred or George couldn’t make you feel like this could they?”

“No- no Remmy.”

“Wait till I get my turn love, go on and cum so I can make my pretty girl feel good too.”

Even Sirius’s tight grip on your thigh couldn’t keep you tethered as you released on his face. Bliss like you had never known overtook and it’s like you were hyper aware of every touch, every breath of theirs that fanned across your body, and every kiss that Remus awarded you with for being your lovely self.

And you couldn’t get enough of it.

Neither could Sirius as he leaned back to take in the view of the masterpiece he created. He loved how you had squirmed under his touch as he continued to thrust his fingers eagerly. 

He was feeling benevolent though and pulled out. Instead he took a firm grasp on your hair and pulled you on your hands and knees so you were eyelevel with his throbbing cock. 

Remus placed a couple of smacks on your ass now that it was exposed for him.

“What do you say to Pads for making you feel so good?”

Sirius wondered if you were aware how cute you looked with your owlish eyes oggling his long member.

“Thank you, Siri.”

“That’s right Puppy, now how about you return the favor.”

You just nodded obediently and stuck out your tongue, which only made Sirius growl even louder as he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat but found yourself gagging at the surprise feeling of Remus’s head rubbing up and down your slick folds.

You arched your back and whimpered around Sirius’s cock and Remus got the message loud and clear. Slowly he inched his way inside groaning when your wet heat enveloped him completely. Once you were used to the feeling you wiggled your hips as a signal so he could move. The slow powerful thrusts of Remus made Sirius thrust through your perfect lips even faster at how the vibrations you emitted felt around his cock. His grip on your hair got even tighter.

“Fuck you feel so good puppy, such a good girl taking such good care of us. I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face, want me to cum all over your face, sweet girl?”

At the sound of your desperate whining he gave your face a few rough pats and yanked your head back. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stuck your tongue out waiting patiently while he stroked his dick furiously. Finally he released on your face, but before you got the chance to think he was licking it up with wide stripes across your face before moving to kiss Remus. You glanced over your shoulder at the two most beautiful men you’d ever been blessed to see, and moaned as their teeth clashed in a hungry and needy kiss. They stopped in a pant and had their foreheads pressed together, grinning at your demands.

“Moony I think our good little puppy wants more attention.”

“Aw, is that so my needy angel. I can fix that for you.”

Quicker than you could count he had you flipped on your back and started fucking into you ruthlessly. His movements were filled with so much determination that every thrust was pushing you to the end of the bed until your back was hanging off the edge. He grabbed hold of your legs and swung them both over your shoulders so he could reach even newer sensitive spots inside you, completely captivated by how freely your tits bounced in this position.

“Rem- Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“No you’re not, you be our good girl and hold on a little longer.”

“Please I can’t take it.”

“If you wanna cum you beg for it then, since you can’t wait.”

“Please please, let me be your good girl, please let me cum you make me feel so good please.”

“Hear that Pads? Imagine if someone heard pure little Y/N acting as our desperate puppy. Okay darling you go ahead and make a mess on my cock baby.”

A wave of euphoria rushed over you as you hung there and took every slam that came your way. The bliss however quickly became too much as your legs wriggled to find your escape from his strong grasp. He just grunted and let you slide into a heap on the floor. He swept to the side of the bed and around to where you were and hoisted you back on the bed so you were on your stomach and your legs hung off the edge. He pressed his hand to your back to firmly hold you in place.

“Angel you begged for this, now you’re gonna take it, yeah?”

He returned to his prior animalistic pace that summoned tears to roll down your cheeks. 

Sirius started petting your head lovingly “It’s okay love, you’re being such a good girl for Moony and I. You look so gorgeous with those tears all fucked out.”

He continued to comfort you and press kisses to your hairline until finally Remus reached satisfaction with his brutal attack on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m gonna cum”

He pulled out swiftly and his hips found their way to Sirius’s hungry lips. It was such a beautiful sight, but your voice made and audible whine before you could control yourself.

“What’s wrong sweetheart, thought you wanted me to stop.”

“Wanted your cum, wanted you to cum in me Remmy.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to make that happen precious girl.”

---

Hmmm yeah I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I hope y’all enjoy my lovelies <3

@thotbutpurple @quindolyn @sunny-bunnny