#drew all this in a fevered haze

[clowncorpze]

₊˚♬ ﾟ.Introducing DJ D3MON!. ♫⋆｡♪

& yes, it's pronounced d-three-mon >;D

[amourane]

why can't we love freely?

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: angsttttt, secret relationship

w/c: 2k

summary: you're tired of being a secret and it was time to let theo know.

warnings: HEARTBREAK

a/n: this was initially meant to be for a request and i started writing it and i got on a roll only to finish the piece and go back to check the request to realise i did it all wrong lmao, so i decided to just post this instead <3 enjoy!

The busy chatter that filled the Great Hall was one that you were familiar with, afterall it had been the same for the past few years that you had been a part of Hogwarts. There was a hint of the sunlight peeking through the windows as the early morning bustle reached its peak. Everyone was rushing to pile breakfast onto the porcelain plates but you couldn’t help but linger at the entrance, looking back ever so often to check if a certain someone had arrived yet. 

“Y/n hurry! Bloody Ernie is going to have devoured all the croissants before I even have a bite.” Hannah whined as she pulled you along towards the Hufflepuff table.

Her incessant nagging eventually made you move and you dragged yourself towards your fellow house members albeit a little sad you hadn’t seen the person that had been on your mind. You dig into your own meal, stabbing the fruits with your fork and shoving them into your mouth. There was the normal hubbub that surrounded you and you felt yourself melt into conversation with your friends once again.

A voice caught your attention and you immediately perked up at the deep chuckle that had your heart skipping a beat. There he was: Theodore Nott. Quite arguably the most handsome person in all of Hogwarts and, of course, your boyfriend. His tousled hair framed his angled face perfectly with single strands that fall into his eyes. You watched as a smirk danced on his lips as he sauntered over to his side of the hall. Theodore Nott had always possessed an aura that drew you into him. Even when you both weren’t dating you often found yourself staring at the handsome boy from your table, wondering what he was really like.

As Theodore's gaze met yours in that fleeting moment, a silent exchange passed between you, laden with unspoken emotions. In the depths of his eyes, you saw the words he couldn't voice.

“I love you.”

It’s silent but it’s there.

The both of you had agreed to keep the relationship under the wraps, not wanting anyone to know about the two of you. It would cause an uproar and neither of you were sure if you wanted to handle the aftermath of the situation. So this was what it came to. Secret glances and whispered love confessions. You couldn’t walk up to him, you couldn’t kiss him in front of everyone, you couldn’t even talk to your friends about him.

Although you had said it would be fine for it to be a secret you didn’t think that he would still want to keep it a secret after so long. You didn’t want to hide your affection for Theo. You truly loved him more than anything and it had already been a year since you officially started dating. Surely it didn’t matter that much that it was a secret.

"Hello? Y/n? You there?" Hannah's voice pulled you from the depths of your thoughts, and you blinked, feeling as though you were emerging from a distant haze. Her concerned expression hovered before you as she waved a hand in front of your face, urging you back to the present moment.

You glanced down to find a forgotten cup of pumpkin juice in your hand, its contents untouched. How long had you been lost in your own thoughts?

"I'm... I'm sorry, Hannah." You murmured, offering her a weak smile as you tried to shake off the lingering tendrils of distraction. "I guess I just...drifted off for a moment there."

“You alright? You don’t look well.” She reached her hand to bring it to your forehead, trying to feel if you had a fever. “You were properly zoned out there.”

“Yeah yeah I’m fine.” You tried to brush off her concern and you offered her a meek smile. “Just didn’t have a good night’s sleep, that's all.”

Your friend looked at you, her lips pursed, a sign she didn’t actually believe what you said. You forced another smile in Hannah's direction, you silently hoped that she wouldn't press any further

Truth be told, you weren’t fine. The past couple of weeks had consisted of your thoughts rampaging in your mind. The continuous stream of worries that clouded your view as you tried desperately to reason with yourself. It wasn’t a huge issue that your relationship with the Slytherin was a secret but gradually what were stupid thoughts now turned into ones that plagued you everywhere you went. You’d be lying if you said you were okay with not even being acknowledged as his girlfriend as he ignored you in class and everywhere public.

Your eyes locked with Theo’s once again and you saw the way there was concern etched into his face. Your boyfriend knew when you were upset and he definitely knew that you were far from okay right now. He mumbled something to Blaise who was beside him before getting up to leave - a signal for you to do the same.

“I think I’m going to go take a nap before class starts, can you come wake me up later?” 

Hannah nodded and you thank her quickly before whisking yourself away in the direction the Slytherin had set off to. The chatter faded as you walked down the hallway and you were now left alone with your thoughts once again. It was bad you knew but you couldn’t help but feel as though you were something to be ashamed of. Was that why Theo was so desperate to cling on to the secrecy?

“Principessa?” Your boyfriend gently grabbed your wrist, twirling you around to face him and you realised you had been too caught up in your mind to even notice he was there. “You okay? You seem a bit off my love.”

His eyes twinkled with concern and you saw the love and affection you were familiar with and it warmed your heart. You loved Theodore Nott more than anything but the questions had plagued your mind for too long now and you needed to voice your thoughts. Otherwise, you thought you would go insane.

“Why are we a secret?”

It was barely above a whisper but Theo heard it. He knew that you weren’t one for loud environments, preferring the quiet of the library and the solitude of your dorm. You were always shy and introverted, rarely speaking to others. You liked to keep to yourself. Even with Theo you were shy and meek but that didn’t mean you weren’t happy. There was always a smile on your face, a loving beam that would make his own heart stutter. Yet your lips weren’t drawn into the bright grin he knew, instead they were in a frown and he recognised your nervousness as you wringed your hands.

Theo would have never considered himself to notice little details. He had always ignored everyone else around him and he never paid enough attention nor did he care enough about others to recognise the little tell-tale signs that everyone did. Until he met you. Then he noticed every little detail, from the way your nose would scrunch when you tried to bite back a laugh to the way you would tangle your fingers in your hair when you were trying to solve a problem.

So it was only natural he realised that you weren’t okay.

“Y/n we talked about this-”

“Yes I know it’s just that.” You paused. The words were bubbling up your throat, you felt them rising and rising and rising and you were unable to stop. You took a sharp inhale. “I don’t understand why, not anymore.”

“Y/n, mia cara, we’ve been through this. No one will accept us. People won’t understand the love between us and they’ll try to tear us apart. My friends, they won’t understand.”

“Then make them understand.”

You didn’t get it. You couldn’t get it. Was he ashamed? Was he embarrassed? Why couldn’t he fight for you, for both of you? 

You felt the tears welling in your eyes, threatening to roll down your face. It was all too much, the constant doubt, the dread, the shame. You had thought you would have been free of these thoughts for a day but who knew that today was when you would finally break. 

Your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest. He felt warm and your arms loop around his body. You cling onto him, unwilling to let go. It was too late to stop the tears now and you felt them fall as you sniffled in his arms.

“Theo, Merlin knows we've been together for more than a year now, and it's been like living in a shadow. I've kept us a secret from everyone - my friends, my family - and I don’t even know anymore. I want to be able to love you openly, without fear or hesitation. I want to hold your hand, kiss your cheek, wake up beside you without worrying about who might see. And I know that there’s issues but we can work through them together can’t we? I want to love you freely…don’t you?”

You pulled away from his chest as you searched his eyes, pleading with him to agree with you. Theo stared at your figure. He watched as the tears he promised not to make fell from your eyes. He felt his heart twist at your words, unable to find the words he wanted to say. Silence. You waited. And then you saw it. The sliver of doubt. That was all you needed before you were recoiling from his touch, pushing his hands off you.

Theo was quick, he tried to pull you back, tried to keep you near him but it didn't stop you from trying to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Y/n, please, stay please.” 

His voice was a desperate plea, each syllable heavy with the weight of his love. But as you backed away, tears streaming down your cheeks, Theodore's heart shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. He watched helplessly as you retreated from him, the distance between you growing with each shaky step you took.

You shook your head as you backed away from the boy you loved. You tried to steady your breathing but all you could manage were shaky breaths as the tears kept falling. It was all too much. It was overwhelming, the feeling that engulfed you whole when you first met Theodore Nott had spit you back out and now you were left not knowing what to do.

“I-I…I can’t.” You stuttered, refusing to look him in the eye. “I can’t do this, not when you don’t feel the same. I can’t, not anymore.”

“No.” Theo reached forward but it only made you step further away as if his touch would burn you like acid. His outstretched hand fell limply to his side, his heart breaking with each word you uttered. “No, don't do this. Y/n please don’t do this. Mia cara, I love you so much you know that. I love you to the moon and back and I will never stop loving you so please don’t do this. I’m begging you.”

“Not enough.” Your voice wavered as the words left your mouth. “You don’t love me enough and you’ve made that clear Theo. I can’t do this, I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

And then you were gone, disappearing into the depths of the corridor, leaving Theodore standing alone. Each word you said replayed in his mind. His emotions toss and turn in the turmoil he had been thrust into. You were gone. You left. He felt his heart burn and ache, pounding at his ribcage. There was a numbing pain that overtook his senses as a wave of anguish washed over him. He reached a trembling hand to his cheek, only to find it damp with tears

It was then that Theodore Nott realised it was the first time he had cried since his mother’s death.

[godisshook]

Brotherly Love

Gavin was more than the average frat bro, it was obvious to see. Since he had joined the fraternity, he had been held in high regard by his brothers, and seen as a rising star. He was a sight to behold, and he knew it.

The sophomore was a popular figure within the Sigma Delta Rho fraternity, an adonis with a killer smile and a personality to match. He had it all, or so he thought. A single person would change all of this, and rock his world forever.

Casey.

The slender pledge had captured Gavin's attention from the moment he stepped foot into the frat house. His toned physique and boyish charm were undeniable draws, but there was something more to Casey that Gavin couldn't quite put into words.

Ever since pledging Sigma Delta Rho and moving into the frat house at the start of the semester, Casey had been infatuated with Gavin. There was just something about him that drew Casey in like a moth to a flame. He did everything he could to get his attention, from staying to clean up after fraternity events, to personally running errands for Gavin.

Months would pass, as Casey started to become his own in the fraternity, gaining the trust of his brothers, but, most importantly to him, gaining the attention of Gavin.

The two exchanged glances during frat meetings and shared brief conversations in passing, making Case. The unspoken tension hung heavy between them, both aware of the appearances they had to maintain with the fraternity. They were keenly knowledgeable of the traditional nature of their frat and knew that anything more than fleeting glances would draw suspicion.

Despite this, the two would talk in secret, forming a relationship while trying to keep their romance hidden. It was torture for Casey, as his need for Gavin would consume him entirely. Their romance bloomed slowly but blossomed nevertheless, and Casey would soon get his wish, as the frat was set to have a massive party in the spring.

The night of the party, Gavin and Casey found themselves alone in Gavin's room. The faint smell of alcohol still lingered in the air as they sat on Gavin's bed, lost in each other's gaze. The two had caught each other's gaze all night, and this had been their moment, their escape from the noise. The tension between them was palpable, and neither one could deny the sparks flying between them anymore.

As Casey leaned closer to Gavin, his heart pounded wildly in his chest, Casey couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his emotions. He wanted nothing more than to feel Gavin's lips against his own, but he knew that this moment could change everything for them both.

Taking the initiative, Gavin gently cupped Casey's face with his hands and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss. It started slow at first, with gentle brushes of their lips against each other's, but soon became far more intense as they explored each other's mouths with eager tongues.

In a drunken haze, the two intensified the moment, with the heat of the moment silencing the booming party outside. As clothes began to line the floor, Gavin's lips slowly brushed Casey's chest, creating more sparks as his hot breath caressed his sensitive skin.

Gavin continued to kiss along the contours of Casey's body, moving downwards at a slow but fiery pace, causing the heat between the two to reach a fever pitch. Gavin's muscular body heated up under Casey's touch, adding fuel to the burning fire of their passion. Before their moment could reach its expected crescendo, a knock on the door would cause things to end abruptly, forcing the two back out into the commotion.

It was a fleeting moment, but enough to leave Casey wanting more. Days came and went as he found ways to keep his mind off of Gavin. After days of monotony and stolen glances, a simple text would be Casey's saving grace, "Come to my room tomorrow at 4, don't keep me waiting." Still in class, Casey fought a smile, but as soon as he left, he darted back to the house, a smile growing from ear to ear.

Now steps away from Gavin's room, Casey could hear the familiar sound of the showers. A wicked smile came over his face as he knew exactly what to expect.

Casey took the towel lying on the bed, chuckling at the fact that it wouldn't be staying on if things went well. Despite a tinge of fear, the air was thick in the bathroom, as anticipation mingled with need. Casey looked at the form in the shower, and asked, "Gavin, is that you?" With his familiar low voice, Gavin replied, "Of course, get in."

Casey initially shivered as he entered the shower; allowing the cold water to wash over him, as Gavin quickly consumed him with his body, warming him up instantly. Within this embrace, Casey felt the unmistakable bulge of Gavin's cock pressing against his.

Gavin took a tuft of Casey's hair in his hand and began thrusting against his head; his body betraying him as he thrust into Casey's mouth. Casey choked slightly, but he didn't let go, his hands grasping Gavin's thighs, pulling his cock deeper into his mouth.

In between thrusts, Gavin would turn up the temperature in the shower, causing steam to build up, and for heat to swell up inside both of them. The shower became even hotter as Casey got lower and lower, laying soft but burning kisses all over Gavin's muscled body. Casey's mouth surrounded Gavin's cock completely, and Gavin threw his head back as Casey began sucking.

Deliberate in his movements, Casey teasingly sucked Gavin off, as he slowly worked his way around Gavin's cock. Unable to handle the tension anymore, Gavin took control, taking a tuft of Casey's hair in his hand and thrusting it against his cock. Gavin's body betrayed him as he gave in to his desires, thrusting faster and faster. Casey choked slightly, but he didn't let go, his hands grasping Gavin's thighs, pulling his cock deeper into his mouth. Before he could cum, Gavin raised Casey back up, and told him, "We're going to the bed." Surprised, Casey looked up into his eyes, as he was suddenly lifted by Gavin into the air, and out of the shower.

The two dried off, and Casey changed into a fresh pair of underwear. Ensuring the door was locked, Gavin said, "You're not gonna need that underwear for long, just saying." Casey smartly replied, "You know people will hear us if we do anything out here?" As if anticipating his question, Gavin turned up the TV, with the jumble of voices drowning out Casey's protests. Closing the distance with a smirk, Gavin grabbed Casey by the hips, pulling him into a deep kiss. Their tongues intertwined as the two were free to give in to their inhibitions fully dry.

Gavin pushed Casey back onto his bed, their bodies sinking into the soft mattress. He kissed his way down Casey's chest, pausing to tease his nipples and elicit soft moans of pleasure.

Lower and lower he went, trailing kisses along Casey's taut stomach and tracing circles with his tongue around his belly button. He could feel the anticipation building within Casey as he neared his ultimate destination - that throbbing cock that was calling out to him.

Gavin reached over to his nightstand and fumbled around for a moment before finding what he was looking for; a bottle of lube left over from one of his previous conquests. Noticing this, Casey remarked sarcastically, "Of course I'm not your first." Gavin laughed, saying, "If it makes it any better, you’re my first guy.” Noticing Casey’s surprise, Gavin asked, "Wait, am I your first…anything?" Casey's nod made Gavin even more delicate, as he sought to make it count.

He uncapped the lube and poured a generous amount into his hand, warming it between his palms before reaching down to prepare Casey for what was about to come.

Gavin's hand slid between Casey's legs, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin as he prepared Gavin for what was to come. Casey moaned, his body trembling with anticipation as Gavin's fingers slid inside him, stretching and preparing him for his massive cock.

Casey gazed up at Gavin in awe. It was like watching an expert at work, with Gavin somehow knowing everywhere that turns him on. With there being no chance of interruption, the two were completely consumed by the other. They were two souls intertwined in a moment of pure bliss, and Casey never wanted it to end.

In between kisses, Casey would give in to his need, "Fuck me," he whimpered against Gavin's lips. "I want you inside me."

Gavin's heart skipped a beat as he met Casey's gaze. The request caught him off guard; he was shocked by Casey's boldness, but there was no denying the hunger burning within him. Gavin simply replied, "As you wish."

Not missing a beat, Gavin thrust inside Casey, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. He lost himself inside Casey, as his most primal urges began taking over. Gavin's mind raced, his desire for Casey threatening to consume him entirely. His cock twitched, aching for release, as Casey started jerking himself off, matching Gavin's strokes. The two continued to fuck, their bodies slick with sweat. Each thrust sent shivers down their spines, their moans mingling together in a symphony of passion and desire.

Gavin's cock twitched, aching for release. Soon, his body tensed, and he came, his cock throbbing as spray after spray of hot, white cum shot all over Casey. The two would release at the same time, and they collapsed onto one another; with Gavin's grip on Casey's hips tightening, bucking over him as he filled Casey with his seed.

Casey lifted himself off Gavin, as they both tried to catch their breaths. Their eyes met, the raw hunger still present but now tempered as the two found release. As Casey laid on him, Gavin felt a sense of ease, "I've always wanted to see you blush." Gavin said, his voice low and seductive. Casey didn't respond and simply nestled harder into Gavin's body.

"You okay?" Gavin asked, concern in his voice.

Casey nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I... I loved every second of it, but it was... intense."

Gavin smirked, his strong hands ruffling Casey's sweat-slicked hair. "That's the whole point, isn't it?"

[a-spicy-reader]

"Forbidden Desires"

Synopsis:

Mark eagerly anticipates a private lingerie show from his girlfriend Maya. As he succumbs to his desires, his senses sharpen, intensifying his longing for Maya's touch. Despite Maya's rule against touching, Mark's desire overwhelms him, leading to a passionate surrender.

Word count: 1,302

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes

The soft glow of candlelight danced across the room, casting warm shadows against the walls as Mark rested on the bed, a joint hanging between his fingers as he took a long drag. This night was special—his girlfriend, Maya, had promised him a private fashion show, and he could hardly wait to see what she had in store.

The weed worked its magic, wrapping Mark in a haze of relaxation as he waited for Maya's arrival. His muscles loosened, his mind wandered as he got lost in the gentle buzz of the herb. He closed his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him as he waited for Maya to arrive.

When Maya finally emerged from the bathroom, Mark's breath caught in his throat. She was breathtaking, her dark skin glowing in the dim light as she moved with effortless grace. The effects of the weed only sharpened his senses, making her beauty seem even more intoxicating.

With a sensual smile, Maya walked over to him, her hips swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. "Ready for your private show, darling?" she purred, her voice sending shivers down Mark's spine.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes drinking in every inch of her. Maya had always been stunning, but tonight she was radiant, a goddess in human form.

As Maya began her private fashion show, Mark's heart pounded in his chest, his desire growing with each tantalizing move. 

The first set Maya revealed was a delicate lace bralette and matching panties, the fabric a rich burgundy that perfectly complemented her skin tone. Mark's mouth went dry as he watched her, his eyes tracing every curve, every dip and swell of her body.

Maya twirled, a playful glint in her eyes as she posed for him, running her hands over her curves with ease and practice. "Do you like it, darling?" she asked, her voice husky with desire.

Mark could only nod, his throat tight with longing. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.

But Maya had made it clear: no touching allowed.

With a pout, Mark forced himself to sit up, his hands clenched into fists as he fought the irresistible urge to reach out for her.

Maya's smile widened as she moved on to the next set, a sheer nightgown that left little to the imagination. The fabric shimmered in the candlelight, clinging to her curves in all the right places as she swayed and twirled, teasing him with glimpses of what lay beneath.

Mark's breath caught in his throat as Maya approached, the scent of her perfume swirling around him like an intoxicating mist. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Maya's laugh was like music to his ears as she danced, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Not as beautiful as you, darling," she replied, her voice a husky purr.

But it was the third set that truly took Mark's breath away—a daring black lace bodysuit that left little to the imagination. It hugged Maya's curves like a second skin, the sheer fabric leaving nothing to the imagination as she posed and preened for him, her confidence shining with every movement.

Mark's pulse quickened as he watched her, his desire reaching a fever pitch as she teased and tormented him with every move. He could feel the heat building between them, a potent mix of longing and desire that threatened to consume them both.

But Maya held firm to her promise—no touching allowed.

Mark groaned in frustration, his body vibrating with need as Maya drew closer, her dark eyes smoldering with desire. "Please, Maya," he begged, his voice raw with longing. "I need you."

But Maya only shook her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she danced just out of reach. "Not yet, darling," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "Not until I say so."

But Mark had reached his limit. With a growl of frustration, he surged forward, capturing Maya's lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. She gasped in surprise, her arms wrapping around him as he pulled her close, their bodies pressed together in a frenzy of need and desire.

Clothes were discarded in a frenzied rush as they tumbled onto the bed, their kisses growing more urgent, more desperate with every passing moment. Mark's hands roamed over Maya's body, tracing every curve, every dip and swell as he worshipped her with his touch.

Maya moaned into his mouth, her nails digging into his back as she arched against him, her body trembling with pleasure. "Mark," she gasped, her voice husky with need. "I need you."

Mark's lips traveled down her neck, peppering kisses along her collarbone as he moved lower, his breath hot against her skin. Mark buried his face between Maya's legs, his tongue darting out to lick her swollen clit. Maya cried out in ecstasy, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rocked her hips against his mouth.

"Oh fuck, Mark," she gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure. "That feels so good. Don't stop, darling. Please, don't stop."

Mark obeyed, his tongue working its magic as he explored every inch of her, driving her wild with need. Maya's cries grew louder, her body trembling on the brink of orgasm as she rode the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

And then it hit her—a blinding wave of pleasure that consumed her entirely. She screamed his name, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm as she fell into bliss.

Mark kept licking, drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling and spent beneath him. He kissed his way back up her body, his lips soft and tender as he pressed them to hers, his passion rekindling like a flame.

With a low growl of desire, Mark moved forward, burying himself deep inside Maya, his throbbing erection pressing eagerly against her slick entrance, the tight heat of her sex enveloping him in a delicious embrace.

Maya gasped, her body arching to meet him as he filled her completely, every inch of him sinking into her depths. She was so wet and tight, her walls clenching around him as he began to move, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both.

Mark groaned, his hips driving forward with increasing urgency as he set a relentless pace. Maya's nails dug into his back, her cries of ecstasy spurring him on as they moved together in perfect rhythm, a symphony of passion and desire.

The sensations were overwhelming—the heat of her body, the tightness of her grip, the way she met his every thrust with eager abandon. Mark felt himself teetering on the edge of oblivion, his pleasure mounting with each stroke until he could hold back no longer.

With a primal roar, he came, his release flooding Maya in a hot, pulsing torrent of ecstasy. She screamed his name, her body convulsing with pleasure as she clung to him, her own orgasm crashing over her in a wave of bliss.

They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, their bodies slick with sweat as they rode out the aftershocks of their passion. Mark pressed a tender kiss to Maya's forehead, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the woman in his arms.

"I love you, Maya," he whispered, his voice soft with emotion.

Maya smiled up at him, her eyes shining with love. "I love you too, Mark," she replied, her voice a gentle whisper.

"Forever and always."

I hope you liked it, leave your comments here ☺️

[earls-wife]

Hello! I hope y'all are well lovelies. Here's the next repost of The Earl and his Wife's marriage life.

Warnings: mature themes, no smut just a love struck man who body worships his wife with thoughts of his.

This takes place three years into The Earl and his wife's marriage.

Reader is always female.

The Lord's A Beggar

Astré wasn’t one to beg.

But he would if his wife asked him to worship her. He would even utter a “please” for his lady.

Head to toe she was every inch the goddess he dreamed of in his teenage years. How they met still burned him open for all others to see. Eyes that pierced his scheming agenda with such ferocity it shook his core. Gone were his plans for the day. Instead he was here, at her alter to worship and burn incense to his goddess. His one true love and companion.

Hands dragged up thighs that ran with warmth, the same warmth he had fallen into night after night. His lips chased the trail of goosebumps left behind in the chilly wake of his finger tips. She completed him. In every way he longed to have her by his side for every moment he drew breath, but that was impossible. Death would come for them both before he had his fill.

“My Lord, you have work to do.”

Her voice called to him so sweetly in his fevered haze that she had induced by existing. So different from Elizabeth, his cousin, she was. His wife never had to try for his attention, no she gathered it with a mere tilt of her head and impish grin. His wife never asked him for things or demanded he attend soirées. He would if she asked though. No, his wife was a silent woman who kept her secrets within the confines of the home he had for them to dwell in.

Her requests were easy, simple, like breathing.

“Must I? I would rather stay here and offer gifts to my lover. May I stay mon bijou?”

Only she could make him beg.

Mon bijou- my jewl

[denaliwrites]

Naked in That Garden

Aziraphale x Fem!Reader x Crowley

Catch and Release Prompt: "Incentive"

Summary: (18+) Crowley discovers an incentive for staying in your body a little while longer. Can be read on its own or as a sequel to Out There Making DuckTales.

Soundtrack: the fruits by Paris Paloma

Requests: Open!

Warnings: :)

"Oi, what's that?" the voice in your head asked.

You snapped out of your reverie with a start. "What's what?" you asked distractedly, looking around for an answer that wasn't there.

"That," Crowley hissed, his... essence? soul? coiling around parts of you that left heat pooling between your legs.

"Crowley," you gasped desperately, nails digging into the wood of the desk you sat at as he did it again experimentally.

The problem was that now a new toy had been dangled in front of him, and Crowley was unlikely to back away -- unless he got bored, or broke it. And, even worse, it was unlikely he'd found and decided to play with those particular bits of you on his own -- something had drawn his attention there.

His essence squeezed around you again, bringing forth a strangled yelp just as Aziraphale walked in.

You didn't dare look at him, but could practically feel the concern rolling off of him as he approached you. His hand on your shoulder was comfortingly warm, but really only served to make you more desperate.

"My dear, you look ill."

Great. You could only imagine what that meant.

His hand not on your shoulder touched your forehead lightly. You glanced up at it and just managed to catch his frown. "You're flushed, but you don't have a fever. How odd."

He helped you to a stand and led you towards the stairs.

You nearly collapsed as Crowley's wandering interest honed in on the bud nestled between your thighs. Aziraphale caught you, looking deeply worried, but you weren't really sure how to tell him your demon houseguest had found the game room.

You were led into a bedroom and sat on the bed, and in your distracted haze you barely noticed Aziraphale leave, and certainly didn't hear his words as he did.

"I h-hope you're satif-fied," you gasped as Crowley tickled your insides.

"Oh, very," his voice hissed in your head. "This feels amazing. What is it?"

On one hand, you found it a little hard to believe a six thousand year old demon didn't know what he was doing to you. On the other, they'd both told you before that they didn't have human bodies so much as tangible objects that vaguely resembled human bodies from the outside.

So maybe he was being honest.

You wiped your brow, pushing back some strands of slicked hair, and released a huff as you leaned back. One hand supported you while the other dipped beneath the waistband of your jeans, inching ever closer to the heat between your legs.

"Do you really not know?" you asked, panting.

"I don't. Human physiology isn't really my forte."

"Do you want to?"

"I do."

That was all you needed to slip your fingers into your folds, index and middle pressing into your cunt while your thumb circled your clit. At first you weren't sure if your pleasure reached Crowley, but then your heard your moan echoed in and around you.

It was weird, to be getting yourself off like this. But something about it definitely turned you on.

"C-Crowley," you panted, slowing down for a moment so you could think.

"Yes, darling?" he purred.

"Can you... d-do you think you could... fill me?"

"Fill you?"

"Yes -- where my fingers are."

A moment later and your cunt felt full in a way you couldn't ever hope to describe. Technically, there was nothing there besides your fingers -- at least, visually speaking. But you could definitely feel Crowley's weight inside you, and it drew forth an obscene moan.

You only remembered Aziraphale when you heard a glass shatter on the wooden floor, and your eyes flew open to see him standing in the doorway, eyes bulging and mouth hanging slack.

"A-Azira--"

You fell silent as he came forward. His eyes blazed as he took in your flushed face, the sheen of sweat covering every inch of your skin, your hand buried in your jeans.

"Really, dear," he said with a click of his tongue. "If you needed help you really should've just asked."

"Wh..."

He snapped his fingers -- no doubt to miracle away the glass -- and then honed his focus back in on you. His gaze was hot and heavy, like a sun that burned bright enough to blind, but you couldn't help but stare into.

"Aziraphale," you whimpered, blinking the building tears of desperation out of your eyes.

"Hush, now, my dear." His voice was impossibly soft, loving, as he leaned forward and cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing a tear away as yours brushed your clit. "Would you like my help?"

Crowley chose that moment to expand himself -- not enough to cause pain, but enough to leave you crying out, only able to answer Aziraphale in a wordless nod.

He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips tender against your own. His one hand remained on your cheek, while his other gently pulled your hand away from your cunt.

"N-no," you sobbed, but he shushed you with another kiss.

"It's all right," he reassured you. He snapped again and you were hit with a sudden chill as your clothes disappeared. Before you could complain, Aziraphale guided you down onto the bed, his now bare body hovering over you as his eyes trailed over your prone form. "Oh, aren't you lovely?"

Crowley gave an assenting hum as he squirmed inside you, eliciting another cry from you.

Aziraphale trailed kisses down your neck and chest, stopping to suckle at your breasts for a moment before he made his way back up.

"Angel," Crowley said, "how do you know what to do here?"

It was a great question. Of the two, you would've expected Crowley to know more about this particular activity.

"I read," the angel answered simply before he pulled you into a loving kiss.

You whimpered into his lips, nails clawing at his back in a desperate bid to coax him into action.

He blessedly understood your silent plea and responded by rocking his hips forward. You were, just for a moment, certain he used a miracle to drive home on his first try, but then all thoughts disappeared as you were filled to capacity.

Maybe even beyond.

It still didn't hurt, but the pressure left you gasping and your ache for release left you sobbing.

Aziraphale tsked above you. "Crowley, really, did you have to leave her in such a state?"

"How was I supposed to know that's what that button did?"

Aziraphale sighed as he pulled back. There was little relief as he was quick to pitch forward, filling you once again. And as he filled you back up, through your own wail you heard Crowley moan. And you could tell Aziraphale heard it too by the sudden glint in his eyes.

The angel, ever kind, shifted so that his next thrust in his your G-spot, and then he hammered at it relentlessly. Your screams were muffled by his kisses as he drove into that bundle of nerves over and over.

Crowley wriggled inside you, part of him filling your cunt while part of him shifted to toy with your clit.

It only took about ten seconds (if that) for your screams to become silent wails of pleasure. Tears streamed freely, though Aziraphale was quick to brush them away. And only a few seconds after your voice failed you, you began shaking from the strain of the building pleasure, from your desperate need for a release that was torturously close.

A few more snaps of his hips, and suddenly the dam burst.

Your whole body twitched and tensed into an arc, cunt clenching around Aziraphale so tightly that he had to pause mid-thrust. You wished you could scream, but no sound came out as your orgasm blazed through you like wildfire.

You barely registered Crowley's retreat into some other recess of your body, or that Aziraphale shifted so that the two of you were sitting up with you perched in his lap and leaned against his shoulder.

You eased into him as your orgasm faded, limply plastered against him like an overcooked noodle. He stroked your damp hair as you came down, your breaths rough pants against his shoulder.

"That's it," he and Crowley cooed together.

"You did so beautifully, my dear," Aziraphale sighed happily.

And, just to you, Crowley all but purred, "If ever I thought something divine, it'd be the image of you naked and gleaming."

[modern-inheritance]

"Why the hell would I be there?" –Brom, a supportive father figure

Arya squinted up at the leaves above. Dappled sunlight filtered through, dancing with the gentle breeze that rustled the branches. The air held a late spring chill but the sun was warm. Like life and fresh water and perfect afternoons after long battles, laying out on the grass as the sun’s rays seeped into her bones. 

Her ribs hurt. Her back throbbed, protesting what had to be the cell floor being pressed against it. She didn’t want to roll over, break the illusion just yet. A bluejay flitted through the twigs above. That was a nice touch. Seems the hallucinations were getting more and more real as time went on. 

They usually weren’t this good. Maybe Durza was lulling her into a false sense of security. Well, she already knew it wasn’t real. So what was the harm in laying there for a little while longer? Basking in the sunlight dripping through the leaves, warm, at peace. Just a few minutes.

Boots on sand. Urgh. He always knew when she was half awake like this. Loved to grab her by the hair and rip her out of the dreamy haze. Just wait for it. Ignore him till he can’t be ignored.

The footsteps stopped next to her shoulder and a familiar face entered her field of view. Peering down. One eyebrow raised, the other lowered in a confused frown. Pipe clenched at the side of his lips. 

“Hey.” He pulled the pipe from his mouth. Frowned even deeper. Arya blinked up at him. Why the hell was Brom of all people in her hallucination? Something nudged her arm. Fairly hard. Felt like rough and well worn boot leather. “Are you actually awake, girl?”

Arya stared. Awake? Wh–

Oh. 

Oh shit.

The elf blinked again. Forced herself to speak, raspy and throat dry. “I’m…not hallucinating, am I?”

Brom stuck the pipe back in his mouth. “You really think Durza would put my ugly mug in your hallucinations?”

This had to be a trick. The whole escape had to be a trick. This couldn’t be happening, it was too good, it was surreal, it was…well, not easy, but shit was it actually him? Was she out? 

Wary, Arya lifted two fingers and drew a line from her forehead out into the air a few inches and followed the drawn path back. Waited for Brom to respond correctly.

The only sign that he was grinning was the wobble of the pipe. He pressed two fingertips between his brows before turning them outward at the same distance she had extended hers.

The brush against her barriers was familiar. She lowered her defenses, tentatively touched the mind presented. He smelled of pipesmoke even here, the warmth of a raging inferno that had raged itself to glowing cinders. Slate-blue-grey, an electric undercurrent of lightning bolt cyan. Warrior, assassin, gardener, egg thief, Dragon Rider, mentour, Brom.

Laughing would hurt like hell. So she settled for the grin splitting her face ear to ear. “I’m not hallucinating.” 

Brom had no reservations. He chuckled and shook his head, his smile not quite as broad but still genuine. “You’re not hallucinating.”

Arya tried to get up. Pain bolted from her ribs, jolted down her spine. She huffed and held her hands up to her mentor, made a grabbing motion with an almost sheepish grin and a tight wheeze as her side muscles stretched. “Help me up, you old bastard.” If this wasn’t a figment of her fever-addled imagination then this was no time to lounge around in the sunlight.

~~~

Arya waking up to travel with Eragon and Co has been something that I've tried and failed to write probably at least 2-3 times a year since MIC started. It never came off right. Eragon, Murtagh and Saphira being awake made it complicated. They were all so awkward with Arya that I finally settled on just Brom being awake during a watch, but still had difficulties figuring out how it would go down.

Finally this afternoon I came up with this. Had to write it up real quick. Whatever happens after this is a mystery still but just waking up the elf and Brom acknowledging her and proving to her that he's real, she's out of Gil'ead and she's (relatively, considering the whole mad dash away from the Empire while being hunted down like so many pesky rabbits) safe, that's a big step for me to actually get down in a way that I like it.

Also, if I ever figure out how to draw properly, I'll make some 'flashcards' for the Riders Signs that I've introduced. The Gil'ead escape story should have quite a few, including the two seen here.

[walkingtalkingsomething]

✨Taylor Swift Makes Everything Better Lyric Prompts - Pt. 2✨

It's exactly what the title says. I find song lyrics in general very inspiring and have a notebook of ones that strike me for one reason or another but don't have the 'whatever' that's needed to write them. And I unapologetically stan the hell out of Ms. Swift and am so often struck by her word choices. So this is my collection of the TS lyrics that conjure up the most thoughts - minus a ton of sad ones because I am just too soft to be putting that much angst into the world 😊

Lover

•Your name on my lips tongue tied, Free rent living in my mind - I Forgot That You Existed

•Fever dream high in the quiet of the night, You know that I caught it - Cruel Summer

•And I screamed for whatever it's worth, 'I love you,' Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? - Cruel Summer

•There's a dazzling haze, A mysterious way about you dear, Have I've known 20 seconds or 20 years? - Lover

•I think he knows his hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it's mine - I Think He Knows

•He got that boyish look that I like in a man - I Think He Knows

•Got that, Ah, I mean, Wanna see what's under that attitude - I Think He Knows

•I think he knows when we get all alone I'll make myself at home and he'll want me to stay - I Think He Knows

•Lyrical smile, Indigo eyes, Hand on my thigh we could follow the sparks, I'll drive - I Think He Knows

•We're so sad we paint the town blue, Voted most likely to run away with you - Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

•Kiss me once cause you know I had a long night, Kiss me twice cause it's gonna be alright, Three times cause I've waited my whole life - Paper Rings

•I like shiny things but I'd marry you with paper rings, Uh huh, That's right, Darling, You're the one I want, And I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this, Uh huh, That's right, Darling, You're the one I want in paper rings, In picture frames, In dirty dreams - Paper Rings

•Barefoot in the kitchen, Sacred new beginnings that became my religion - Cornelia Street

•My heart, My hips, My body, My love, Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch - Death By a Thousand Cuts

•Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand, It's nice to have a friend - It's Nice To Have a Friend

Folklore

•We were something, don't you think so? Rosé flowing with your chosen family, And it would've been sweet if it could've been me - The One

•And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, You put me on and said I was your favorite - Cardigan

•You drew stars around my scars - Cardigan

•I knew you tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy - Cardigan

•I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss, I knew you'd haunt all of my what ifs, The smell of smoke would hang around this long - Cardigan

•I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending - Exile

•I can see you staring, Honey, Like he's just your understudy, Like you'd get your knuckles bloodied for me - Exile

•And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted, Your dad is always mad and that must be why - Seven

•I can see us lost in the memory/And I can see us twisted in bedsheets - August

•I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that - This Is Me Trying

•And maybe I don't quite know what to say, But I'm here in your doorway - This Is Me Trying

•You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else/You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else - Illicit Affairs

•And isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? - Invisible String

•Right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when you see my face again - Betty

•But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm If your cascade ocean wave blues come - Peace

•And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences, Sit with you in the trenches, Give you my wild, Give you a child, Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, Family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother - Peace

•Don't want no other shade of blue but you, No other sadness in the world would do - Hoax

•You knew the password so I let you in the door - Hoax

•Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die, I don't belong and my beloved neither do you - The Lakes

Evermore

•Wherever you stray, I follow - Willow

•Head on the pillow, I could feel you creeping in as if you were a mythical thing, Like you were a trophy or a champion ring, But there was one prize I'd cheat to win - Willow

•Your Midas touch on the Chevy door, November flush and your flannel cure - Champagne Problems

•There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me - 'Tis The Damn Season

•And the heart I know I'm breaking is my own, To leave the warmest bed I've ever known - 'Tis The Damn Season

•Gain the weight, Then lose it - Tolerate It

•No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you, And you know you hurt him too - Happiness

But are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? - Dorothea

•And do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? - Coney Island

•Oh, Goddamn, My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand - Ivy

•My house of stone, Your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you - Ivy

•Your opal eyes are all I wish to see, He wants what's only yours - Ivy

•So yeah, It's a fire, It's a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it - Ivy

• You're a bandit like me, Eyes full of stars, Hustlin' for the good life, Never thought I'd meet you here - Cowboy Like Me

•And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up - Cowboy Like Me

•Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon, With your boots beneath my bed, Forever is the sweetest con - Cowboy Like Me

•And it's been so long but if you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me - Right Where You Left Me

Midnights

•And I wake with your memory over me, That's a real fucking legacy to leave - Maroon

•I wake up screaming from dreaming one day I'll watch as your leaving and life will lose all its meaning for the last time  - Anti Hero

•And time can't stop me quite like you did - Snow on the Beach

•I wait patiently, He's gonna notice me, It's ok we're the best of friends...anyways - You're on Your Own, Kid

•They said the end coming, Everyone's up to something, I find myself running home to your sweet nothings, Outside they're push and shoving, You're in the kitchen humming, All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing - Sweet Nothing

•To you I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it - Sweet Nothing

Misc.

•Seen you fall, Seen you crawl on your knees, Seen you lost in a crowd, Seen your colors fade, Wish I could make it better, Someday you won't remember this pain you thought would last forever and ever - Sweeter Than Fiction

•What a sight when the light came on, Proved me right when you proved them wrong - Sweeter Than Fiction

•Follow me home if you dare to, I wouldn't know where to lead you - Beautiful Ghosts

Part. 1

[devahutii]

𝕭𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖒𝖆'𝖘 𝖕𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙...

Red the colour of blood

Red the colour of matrimony

Red the colour of lust

Red the colour of hatred

Red the colour of the silken curtains that fell from the ceilings over his face. Those curtains he pulled aside, he pulled apart, the silk tickling past his body as he navigated through the sea of red until he reached a halt- a velvet bed enveloped in satin sheets. He stood perplexed, the palm of his hand pressed against the cushion of the bed, feeling the smooth fabric in between the pads of his fingers.

Then he heard- a huff, a chuckle, a sigh. He felt eyes on him, beholding his broad back, his muscular arms, down to areas eclipsed. He spun, a certain way setting in his chest as he surveyed the extents of red silk that stretched forward all around him.

Then he saw it- a silhouette of a woman in red, her hips swaying, her hands gently pulling apart the silken curtains as she made her way towards him.

His breath hitched, air caught up in his lungs as he beheld the sight before him- it was her.

His body grew limp, paralysed in place as her scarlet painted lips grinned. She drew closer to him, her hand on his chest, as she pushed him down on his back into the bed. All air left his lungs as she mounted him, bracing his hips with her thighs. She bent down over him, her faces inches apart from his, the metallic smell of blood and attar emanating from her. He sucked on a sharp breath, she chuckled as she grinded against him, her hips rocking back and forth against him. He closed his eyes tightly shut, his two shuddering hands snaking up her thighs as he felt his hips rut up against her. With his mind hazed in ecstasy, his grip only bruisingly tightened as he reached his climax.

Then he opened his eyes, only to find not the maiden brimming with desire, but a woman with bloodshot eyes glaring back at him. Her lips twisted into a snarl, shivering with fury and vengeance in her mind, she had her arms up with a dagger in hand overhead. His eyes widened as the dagger came down upon his chest, sinking into his fevered heart as he came undone against her cunt.

Then he woke up- from the shock, baffled and heaving as his heart thundered in his chest. With beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, he got up, his body shivering from the unsettling omen that came to him in the form of a dream- or rather, a nightmare.

These were the nights of Bheeshma, haunted by visions of Amba. On some nights, he’d dream of family, not the one that he had to give up his manhood to protect, but of one of his own. He dreamt of children in a quaint little nursery, babbling and giggling euphorically as he took them into his arms as they were his own. He dreamt of a mother, a wife- doting on him just as she doted on his children.

But then he’d wake up, only to realise just who this wife of ‘his’ was- Amba.

She was the first to demand him in matrimony, to want him. She had been forbidden fruit, his jaw clenching, his throat bobbing at the sight of. Bheeshma of the tungsten oath, had only ever once reconsidered his vows for only one woman- Amba.

But one night, his previous dreams ceased to exist, as a new vision unveiled itself before him-a vision of a man, no longer the woman he was before. Bheeshma stood in sand, surrounded by the rued and rusted ruins of hastinapur, underneath the afternoon sun. In a distance stood Shikhandi, wielding a bow and arrow before him. With his body paralysed in place, he could only watch as the man with fury of a thousand suns in his eyes, strung his arrow into the bow and took aim. He could only watch as the man sent hundreds of arrows his way, falling upon him like a hundred broken stars. No longer was that alluring gaze, no longer was that soft caress, no longer was that femininity that had nearly disgraced him- only pain followed as a thousand arrows pierced his being.

As he cried out in pain, he woke up gasping and heaving for air. It was now that Bheeshma knew, through his fear stricken mind, that his end was nigh.

At a distance, trumpets and conches sounded as a war drew closer…..

•

•

•

[kalevalakryze]

You Know Me (Better Than I Know Myself)

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Rebels Pairings: Sabine Wren & The Ghost Crew Characters: Sabine Wren, Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus, Garazeb Orrelios, Ezra Bridger, Chopper, Satine Kryze Warnings: Nightmares, Sickness, Fevers, Delirium, Panic Attacks, Abandonment Issues, Mentioned Major Character Death, Reanimated Corpses, Vomit Mention, No New Deaths, Insecurities, Ahsoka Series References Notes: For @whumptober 2023 Day 2  Prompt: No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.” Delirium | “They don't care about you.” Word Count: 2,581 AO3 Link: Here!

Hera was perched awkwardly on the top bunk in Sabine’s room, feet dangling down to the booth below. Kanan stood with his back pressed into the durasteel wall, both Rebel leaders stuck listening to the soft, keening groans coming from the fever stricken Mandalorian, twitching and shifting under her blankets, stilling only slightly when the Twi’lek’s hand reached and settled on her leg. “Kanan, she’s still in her armor,” Hera realized with an understanding sigh. 

“Want me to..?” His head jabbed towards the door, there had to be medicine somewhere on board, or maybe he could get Chop to look up the old Pog soup recipe the Clones used to make… He couldn’t just sit there and listen to her hurting. 

“Please,” Hera offered a warm smile, squeezing his arm when he reached to pat her leg on his way out. “Thanks, love,”

“Anything for you guys,” He pulled a lopsided smirk on his face before the door slid shut behind him. 

Running her fingers along Sabine’s sweat-damp forehead, Hera let her heart ache for just a moment, thumb following the slope of the Mandalorian’s nose as she drew closer to the hand on her face. “Kaa'lia,” There was a crack of a golden eye opening, foggy with sleep and sickness. “ ‘bine, I’m going to help you get your armor off, alright?” 

“Buir?” Sabine rasped, chest rattling before she was turning her head to the side to cough into the pillows. 

Hera didn’t know a lick of Mando’a, but she did know Sabine; knew the strained an nearly invisible relationship with her family, knew the Mandalorian was plagued by nightmares not from the battlefield, but from whatever it was that had happened with her family, and Hera knew what it sounded like, when a child called out for a parent to protect them, in her time since bringing Sabine on board, she also learned the agonizing feeling of those calls going unanswered. 

I’m sorry, Sabine, I’m not your mother. She should have clarified, she should have waited until the young woman pushed through enough of the haze to recognize her; instead, emerald fingers brushed through tousled black and orange dyed hair, lungs squeezing painfully at the way she melted into her hand. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere,” She promised instead, thumb brushing against overheated skin as Sabine nuzzled into her. “But we need to get this armor off of you, sweetheart.” 

Even sitting up with Hera’s support seemed to be too much for the Mandalorian, who was thrown into a coughing fit the moment she was sitting up. Leaning across the small space between them, Sabine’s cheek pressed into Hera’s shoulder, hands reaching for her armor and fumbling uselessly with the straps. 

It was hard work, moving around a clingy Mandalorian who kept putting their hands right where she needed to go, but before long, Hera had each piece of armor changed, and even managed to get the young woman into proper sleep clothes, free of the sweat and dirt from their last mission before the woman had disappeared into her room. 

“Hera..?” Sabine croaked as the Twi’lek bundled her back into the bunk, “Me’bana?” 

“Gave us a bit of a fright,” Hera soothed, tucking the blanket once more, needing something to do with her hands. “How are you feeling?”

“Like bantha shit wrapped in a sarlac’s digestive lining,” Burrowing further into the nest Hera had helped her back into, the Mandalorian tucked her face into the blankets, stifling her wheezing breaths with the thick fabric. 

“You’re gonna melt yourself in there, you know,” Though Hera couldn’t bring herself to suggest she thin out the blankets, not when the girl’s legs curled closer to her chest and her shoulders shook from feverish chills. 

“Ciyrc,” Teeth clattering, Sabine poked her head away from the warmth of the blankets, sniffling as she tried to hold the shivering and trembling in her chest. “Can I go back to sleep now?” 

“Of course,” Hera made to jump off the bunk, though she was stopped by a clammy hand brushing her wrist, as if the woman had gone to grab her, but decided too late that whatever she wanted wasn’t worth it. “Or… Maybe I can stay a bit, make sure your fever doesn’t spike again,” Settling back in, the captain watched the poorly hidden relief, knowing that the Mandalorian wouldn’t ask for what she really wanted. 

By the time Kanan returned with a bowl of soup, the cabin was once again filled with the deep sounds of Sabine’s breathing, embraced by slumber and thankfully still compared to when Chopper had tattled on the distressed noises from the artist’s room.

“How’s she doing?” Kanan lowered his voice as he reentered Sabine’s quarters, setting the steaming bowl of soup onto the one clear spot on the table underneath the bunk.

“She woke up for a few minutes, got her armor off of her… Looking up,” Hera finally slid off the bunk, letting Kanan help steady her with a hand on her waist. 

“She isn’t out of it yet,” The Jedi settled his hand on the edge of the bunk. “Come on, I’ll go put this away, if she wakes up, I’ll warm it up for her.”

“So the trick to getting you to clean up is for one of the kids to get sick?”

“I’d make a great house spouse, if you’re trying to say otherwise, you know. Now come on, you’ll scare the poor kid if you watch her sleep all night,”

▬▬ι═══════>

“Hera?” Sabine croaked as consciousness slowly ebbed into her mind. Everything was heavy, her head was swimming, and she was positively freezing. Bleary golden eyes searched the expanse of her quarters, it looked exactly like it had when she’d gone to bed that morning… or was it afternoon? When she looked over to the pink and orange chrono tucked near the top of the bunk blinked, a fault running during the night stopping the time from updating. 

Several minutes of tired, confused self loathing passed before Sabine called out again. “Kanan?” A cough racked her body, bringing the young Mandalorian curling in on herself, shoulders shaking as her lungs refused to suck in the oxygen she needed. 

The door slid open with a hiss, overshadowed by the gasping breaths, her chest heaving as she leevelled her breathing out once more. The eyes that settled on her fetal form sent a spike of ice directly to her stomach, rising bile to the back of her throat that she needed to swallow back before daring to lift her gaze. 

This… had to be a nightmare, people didn’t come back from the dead. Still, the metallic odor of burning blood itched her nose, serving to further upset her stomach as she forced herself to sit up. Satine Kryze watched each of her movements with cold, dead eyes. 

“Duchess,” Sabine’s feet hit the floor with a heavy thud, knees and hands following as weakness in her muscles refused to let her stand before the deceased ruler of Mandalore. 

“They aren’t coming,” The ghastly tone of her voice had Sabine squeezing her eyes shut, begging herself to wake with each reverbation in her head. “When they do, it will be too late.” Her hand was skeletal where it breached the blue silk of her sleeve, graying skin mottled and decaying as she reached for the evidence of a wound in her abdomen. 

Sabine didn’t dare risk to speak, throat bobbing with the effort it took to keep the persistent stomach acid from fighting it’s way past her throat. “They don’t care about you, ad’ika,” Golden eyes tore from the paint splattered steel of the floor, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with the reanimated, rotting corpse of the Pacifist leader she’d looked up to so much growing up. 

“They care about what you can do for them,” The door never shut behind Satine when she entered, giving Sabine a clear view of the hallway from her spot on the floor. 

“Hey, Hera!” Ezra’s voice echoed from the nose gun before growing closer. “ ‘bine left a bunch of old drawings in the turret, you want ‘em?” Ezra passed the door with a stack of Sabine’s drawings, the ones she’d specifically hidden in the cushion of the nose gun’s chair so no one would see her more private drawings of both of her families. 

Hera’s head poked into the hallway, catching Ezra in time to peer at the drawings. “They don’t look important, you can toss them with the rest of her stuff,” 

Chopper made a warbling sound, which turned into a fast paced beeping. “Yes Chop, I know! Just wait till we land, once we sell what’s left, we’ll go get you those upgrades,” Ezra patted the small droid’s head, sticking a tongue out in retaliation after he was shocked for his actions. 

“Why…” Sabine’s voice caught in her throat as she swallowed another crashing wave of vomit. “Why are they acting like I’m dead?” 

“Laar'senar’ika… you are dead,” The corpse had the decency to at least pretend to look sympathetic- Sabine wished she wouldn’t, wished the image of Lady Kryze’s rotting form would stop looking at her like that, wished this didn’t feel so real, wished she would just wake up!

▬▬ι═══════>

Her body smacked into the ground below with a harsh thud, pain flaring up from her tailbone and up her spine, legs tangled in her blankets and tears leaking down her face. When she looked to the door, she saw only the spray painted lines of a stormtrooper helmet with a giant X across it. 

Tears ran free and hot down her face, acidic saliva smeared across the side of her face, and the pungent odor of stomach acid in the air, thick in the sheets wrapped around her body. “Duhaa’la,” She rasped, fighting to untangle herself with cramping limbs. 

“Sabine!” The door hissed open to Ezra’s worried shout of her name, though it was Hera who blocked him from being able to see into the room. “Hey, are you okay? We heard a crash?” He was trying so hard to duck around the captain, bouncing on his toes as Kanan tugged him back. 

“Come on,” He chided, pulling his Padawan back into his chest. “Somebody missed scrubbing practice yesterday,” Hera’s head bowed in quiet thanks as the only real ‘kid’ on board was led as far from Sabine’s room as Kanan could get him. Hera knelt down beside Sabine with a soft ‘tssk’. 

Hera was quiet as she helped untangle Sabine from her dreamland acquired prison. Truly, she was the best of them all, taking the state of the sheets and the dried sour residue staining Sabine’s sleep clothes in stride. 

“Hera?” Sabine started, leaning back against the booth of the bottom bunk, too-hot forehead pressed against the cool durasteel as the Twi’lek gathered the ruined sheets into a pile. 

“Yes, dear?” The older woman’s attention turned to her at once, her hand coming to rest on the Mandalorian’s knee as she settled onto the floor beside her.

Another stretch of heavy silence as the young woman debated herself, twisting her hands together uncomfortably in her lap, Sabine decided it was best to bite the bullet. “If..” A huff of air as she gave up on twisting her fingers to wrap her arms around herself. “It’s stupid, nevermind,”

“Sabine Wren,” Hera’s tone was joking, playfully, it helped her breathe again, though she could still pick out the tone she used for her ‘captain’ voice. “I’ve seen you face entire Imperial squads alone and I’ve seen you when you’ve run out of paint, there isn’t anything that’s going to scare us away, and even less that would make any of us stop caring,”

Brows furrowing, Sabine’s eyes rose to meet Hera’s, nearly recoiled from the intensity in her own personal oceans. “How did you…?”

“You talk in your sleep, Kaa'lia,” Hera admitted with a kind laugh as she shifted enough to press into Sabine’s side. “We aren’t going anywhere, Sabine. And if we go anywhere, we’ll do it as a family.” The Mandalorian tucked into Hera’s side readily, happy for the support to keep herself up, even as exhaustion and fear threatened to drag her down. 

“Hey, none of that,” Hera’s shoulder bounced, effectively halting the slow descent back into consciousness. “You didn’t eat or drink anything yesterday, and Kanan spent hours slaving over a hot stove just for you,” The woman’s fingertip flicked Sabine’s nose, causing her face to scrunch up. “And you could use a shower, There should still be some hot water in the tanks if you want it,” 

“Could you..Stay?” Her cheeks warmed at the vocalization of it, but Hera didn;t seem phased, nodding her head and pressing her forehead gently into the side of Sabine’s.

“Of course.”

Sabine didn’t crawl back into her own bed that night, after cleaning up, she found herself firmly wrapped up in Hera and Kanan’s bed, a cramped party in the too small quarters as everyone tried to pile in close to Sabine, bowls of reheated Pog soup passed around between everyone.

“Kanan, where did you learn to make this?” The young woman was appalled that someone so… decisively not Mandalorian, would be able to make the comforting dish like the elders. 

The man to her right shook his head, arm stretching across her back to reach for Hera’s shoulder, tugging both human and Twi’lek close, smooshing the Mandalorian between them. “That’s a story for another day,” 

“Hey!” Ezra complained, clambering painfully from his position laying across their legs to work himself between Sabine and Ezra. “You guys got her all to yourselves yesterday, We wanna make sure she’s okay too!” 

Balancing her bowl so it didn’t spill, Sabine rolled her eyes at Ezra’s antics, bumping her elbow into his ribs as he wiggled into a comfortable spot. “Zeb, are you joining in?”

The Lasat rubbed the back of his neck at Kanan’s question. “I don’t know, you guys have smelled me,” 

Passing her bowl off to Hera, Sabine wriggled enough to lay her legs out. “Come on, before we change our minds,” 

He wasted no time in accepting the invitation, taking Ezra’s spot, with several groans of complaints at the tank of a man laying on them, though eventually, everyone managed to get comfortable. Hera’s hand resting on Choppers head, the droid rolled up close to the well overcrowded bunk, knowing throwing him in the pile would truly be the straw to break the Tauntaun’s back. 

As Ezra rolled into a greatly exaggerated tale of his Jedi training, Sabine let herself sink back into Hera’s arm. “How are you feeling?” She whispered into the tired Mandalorian’s ear, unable to stifle her smile when the artist turned to nuzzle closer into her. 

“Jate’shya, Buir,” Sabine grumbled, voice thick as sleep wrapped her close in its inviting arms once more. 

Kanan’s head snapped to the two women, eyes wide at the language, words Hera had no hope of understanding and words he’d been taught once, in another life. “What?” Hera whispered defensively, brows furrowing at the look on his face. 

“Nothing…” A smirk pulled onto her lips- Hera wished she didn’t have all these sleeping kids in her bed, just in case she’d need to throw something at him. “Mom.” His voice was equal parts teasing and warm, warm like the feeling in Hera’s heart, and warm like the Mandalorian, her sama in her arms. 

Translations Twi'leki: Kaa'lia - Love Sama - Daughter Mando'a: Buir - Parent (used as 'mom' for the purpose of this fic) Me'bana? - What's happening? Ciyrc - Cold Laar'senar’ika - Little singing bird Duhaa'la - Sick Jate'shya, Buir - Better, mom

[lunarcrossingart]

The doodle that started it all.... I wanted to submit @theshebinator 's Happiness AUwi into their draw box but it kept giving me an error. So, I drew Sheb their boy instead. Then I drew @songwings's Delphiswap Viola and then @artseniccatnip Prom dress Pom in a fevered haze because I wanted to give them drawings today too. =w= Exposition finished.

[melodyofthevoid]

“Just breathe through it. It gets easier.”

Slipping up now wasn’t an option. Not when she was so close. Not when they were just at her heels. Making a name for herself was great and all for garnering help, driving off monsters just with her appearance. 

It also made word of her location spread that much faster. And all the magic and sword skills in the world didn’t matter when at any moment a bounty hunter could strike. Followed by any number of glory chasers. 

Which made the fact she’d just sustained what could charitably be called a “small gash” on her leg something of a problem. 

Copper welled in her mouth as she grit her teeth, searching desperately for a cave- an outcropping- somewhere she could hide for the night so far from civilization. Time wasn’t her friend, hadn’t been for a while now. She’d steal whatever she could get though. 

The fortunes smiled upon her briefly with a cave system, not too far up the side of a rocky hill, and not too obvious from the road below. Somewhere to dress her wounds. Maybe get some rest before making the trek somewhere with more resources. She’d be alright. For now at least. 

Of course, sitting down proved trickier than planned, and the throbbing sensation in her leg distracted from her attempt to make as small a fire as possible. Light was easily hidden with magic, that she’d learned. 

The warmth was nice, against the cold of the outside. If only her blood wasn’t also so warm against her leg. A constant drip that needed dealing with. 

Unclasping the armor lessened the little pressure there was on the wound, and the small puddle below her calf soon grew, expanding outwards. Now that Helena could see it, the extent of it, she gagged, unable to look or look away from the crimson tear. Shining and wet in the light of the small fire that drew ever lengthening shadows across the walls. 

It was too much- too much- despite having gored and slashed her way through creatures and beasts alike, pain and gore made her woozy, her trembling hands unable to get close enough to the seeping blood to clean it, let alone set it. Helena’s head swam, her breath labored. A cut on the leg, such a stupid way to go. Infection or blood loss or a swift arrow to the throat. A lovely array of options.

Gods, she wished her Nessa was here. 

Helena let out a pitiful laugh, dying in the silence of the cave. She was the stronger of the two of them. By now, were she in Helena’s boots, she’d have fought her way across the entire continent, found the diadem, and raised an army. And here she was in a cave, too frightened to look at a wound. 

Even more than that, she missed her gentle touch, even as she lovingly teased Helena in her weaker moments. Her weak constitution landing her fevered and bedridden more winters than most. Putting her in the hands of a more than capable, if snarky, nurse. 

It’d gotten particularly bad 4 years ago, a Colhuan pestilence breaching the walls of the capital and laying waste to the whole city, Helena included. She’d told Nessa to stay away to keep herself safe but it’d… well. Between the aches, the fever, the vomiting, and the blurred lines between reality and dream, Helena was afraid. Nessa did her best to assuage that fear, not that her sickness addled brain comprehended it all that well. 

“‘m sorry Nes- I don’t- ’s too much. Hurts. It hurts.“ 

The room spun and blurred, her body shaking with chills.

“I know Hel, I know. Just breathe through it,” the words came through a haze as a damp cloth dabbed at her feverish forehead, “It’ll get easier. Focus on just that, and you’ll be alright. I promise.” 

“You sure,” she’d slurred back, “pinky swear?” 

“Pinky swear.” 

Helena held onto that memory, forcibly exhaling, then inhaling slowly. If her attempts hitched, well that was between her and the stones. She kept at it as she opened her eyes again and grabbed the roll of fabric and her small canteen of water. 

“Breathe through it. Just- just keep breathing-“ 

Shit that water was cold. But it was fine, it was fine. 

Wrap the leg (pretend it was someone else’s don’t think about it) nice and tight, but not too tight. 

Eat some of the dried beef and cheeses to keep up strength, keep breathing. 

Nessa wouldn't go unremembered or unavenged. This wouldn't be Helena's end.

She refused.

It was in that moment Helena remembered, through the strange mix of clarity and pain, that she'd used her magic to hide her fire. Maybe, if she tried...

In a flare of silver, the bleeding stopped. The wound still open, and hurting somewhat, but nowhere near as badly. It was a start.

She pulled out a blanket from her bag and doused the fire, curling inwards to rest. It still wasn't optimal, she wanted to be much farther along than this, but it was better than bleeding.

[moonlightheretic]

WIP WEDNESDAY: The Heretic

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE LAST CHAPTER.

The war anthem that poured from their mouths in the form of bellows and shouts erased any doubt. They advanced upon us with great speed, a wave of flesh, iron and deadly intent swept across the shallows. Hundreds of them. A stone thrown in the wasp’s nest.

“For the Inquisition!”

Solas scooted me behind him further onto the stone, before he crunched down, one hand held aloft to maintain the barrier and the other a curled fist launched into the rock.

Spires of red lyrium erupted from the earth, launching the templars and soldiers alike and crushing others under crimson spite.

I was too weak to remorse, I slid down Solas’s leg as he feverously repelled anyone who entered the lake.

The forest jeered and not a moment later did the flaming spheres quickly crash into the columns he built, shattering most in a red haze.

They stormed through, more men, more swords, and proud banners. They ambushed us from all sides and I knew that Solas’s barrier could no longer protect us. The Templars dug their shields into the lakebed and held together, moving as one. I could feel their presence, like the moon slowly eclipsing the sun, subduing Solas’s magic, cutting him from the fade.

“Keep out of the water!” He bellowed over his shoulder and I lethargically dragged the tips of my feet from the lapping waters. I couldn’t argue with him in my current state.

I felt it before I saw it, the singe in the air, my hair raised from my shoulders, and Solas raised his fist. Violet, spitting sparks, crooked snapping serpents funneling from his shoulder to his fingers. He allowed it to charge, flexing his fingers, all the while waiting, waiting, waiting.

They drew closer, and I was able to just see over their helmets that they weren’t alone.

Multiple templars lashed out with chains, ready to snare one of us.

“My men…” I muttered, but before I could provide them with a warning, Solas plunged his hand into the water with a splash.

[heirscrchd]

Care (ty lee)

actions speak louder than words

care,sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

It wasn't unusual for Azula's body temperature to run hot. Many firebenders often had warmer body temperatures and radiated heat not unlike a contained fire inside a furnace of flesh and bone. This day though, was unlike many others and Ty Lee took quick note of it as their time together would teach her when something was off.

Azula rarely slept in, often waking the moment sunlight struck her face peeking over the treeline away from them and carefully dancing through the leaves of the tall trees above. Today, and yesterday, she didn't stir from her slumber. Sweat collected on her forehead like morning dew but these were not refreshing cool droplets of water coalescing upon plants the moon and stars so gracefully left them. No, this was liquid agony. Pouring from the fever that refused to break within the day, Azula was borderline delirious while awake and near incoherent as she slept. Mumbling and turning, desperate to drown herself in as much water as she could stomach.

Ty Lee was barely spared from her actions. Yet brief moments of clarity would shine through to the other woman. Amber eyes portraying the battle going on within her very mind and soul as it conflicted and churned with the discovery of her new self. Ever since she opened that chakra, the overwhelming feelings of love that now filled her conflicted with everything she had been taught.

Now she travels, going who knows where with her childhood friend now turned--- Azula wasn't even sure how to define what they were now but even through the haze of sickness that overcame her she clung to the other. Whether it be literally, in trying to drag them close to a crushing embrace far too warm for anyone's comfort, even Azula's; or gripping onto pieces of her clothing as she turned and tossed the smell and feel of the other the only thing keeping her calmed.

Haunted by nightmares, familiar voices calling out to her, two spirits taunted her in this dream. Zuko and her Father. Her father reassured her, telling her that she was perfect, that she was everything he had wanted her to be, and through all her strife and tribulation, the successes she accomplished she was allowed to rest now. All she had to do now was rest, sleep, and accept the love he was to bestow upon her.

Yet the other spirit spat words of warning between long fangs that curved upward and out. It was a mockery of her brother's voice, telling her to leave, to flee, that this place was not where she belonged and she had to run. To escape, just like mother. Their words meant no sense to Azula, why would she run? Shouldn't she face whatever danger was to become her? What she couldn't grasp was the idea the danger that loomed over her was her desperate need for her parent's affection. The love she craved from their father and the only one she had known for so much of her life was suffocating her. Strangling her and poisoning her slowly just as it had their mother.

" No. . . . ZuZu, why--- " Mumbled breaths of half-formed words escaped her lips. Her grip tightened on Ty Lee's skirt as tears formed on the sides of her eyes. Slowly dripping down her face until it became indistinguishable between sweat and tears. " Loved me. . . He. . " Coughing, Azula felt her throat grow dry, " Had to. " She choked out, curling in on herself further. Desperately searching for something to ground her. If she couldn't rest, but couldn't run, what else could she do? Too weak to fight this on her own in this state she fell into an endless abyss.

Only when she felt that hand brush once more against her forehead. A caring word in a voice that sounded too close and too distant all at once did she feel the ground form once more beneath her feet. A long drawn-in breath, a familiar smell that clouded the nightmare away as clouds drew in as she exhaled. When the fog cleared again with her second breath in she was there.

Laughing, smiling, back in the palace gardens with her friends. Memories drawn in as in the present she relaxed more, her grip on Ty Lee loosening ever so slightly and her expression growing far less painful. Echoing sounds in her ears of the three of them laughing, playing, learning new tricks, and showing off for one another. This moment, in particular, was special to Azula when she first took notice of Ty Lee. It had been a normal day just as any other when the three of them played but as per usual they would tease Mai about her little crush. Pretending to be Mai and Zuko, Azula would overdramatize playing up her older brother and act as if Ty Lee was Mai. Exaggerating words she had read in poems in class, reciting them and declaring some undying love all in a poorly mimicked voice of Zuko.

Still, this memory brought her some peace. Before everything grew complicated and messy. Far before either would betray her, yet the memory was ingrained as if it had happened just yesterday. Maybe. . . had it happened yesteday? Azula wasn't too sure in this moment. She felt small, she felt dizzy and confused, unable to even recognize her surroundings.

When finally she would crack a single eye open to look up at Ty Lee who no doubt barely left her side, she would smile. Despite the pain and soreness that ached in her body as if she had been struck by her own lightning, there was a residing warmth in her expression. Maybe it was the delirium, maybe it was her showing herself through the social mask she put on nearly all the time. Raising a single hand up to Ty Lee, Azula would caress her face ever so gently.

" 've. . . . . you. . . " Came hushed words before she rolled her head further to the side once more, closing her eyes with labored breathing returning, her arm dropped. Whisked away to another dream of taunting spirits and children's laughter.

[aloudplace]

Chapter 15 temperature

The rest of the morning passed in a languid haze.

Loklan rose while Eiara was napping and made them breakfast, returning with the tray so they could eat together in bed.

Afterward, he drew the covers back to examine her body, lingering over the marks he'd left. He'd bitten her half a dozen times, though he didn't remember them all. Her thighs were bruised where his thrusts had driven her against the table, too. And though the flesh was only red, she claimed her bottom ached as well.

"What about inside?" he asked, still touching the marks on her thighs. "Do you hurt there, too?"

She nodded. "In a good way, though."

Loklan had very mixed feelings about how roughly he'd used her. "You told me to stop."

"Did I?" She was kissing his chest, licking the Zenopelti scales on the outer edge of his collarbone. "I don't remember."

"You begged me, Eiara."

"Hmmm. I just remember coming and coming til I thought I would die. And the sounds you made." She shivered a little. "I was afraid you would eat me."

He fingered his teeth marks on her shoulder. "I very nearly did, it seems."

Eiara's mouth trailed up his throat to his jaw. "I like it when you bite me."

Loklan felt a low rush of arousal despite himself. "You get tighter when I do. It makes me crazy."

"Me too," she murmured. "And when you ride me so hard like that, and growl in my ear."

He chuckled. "And here I thought I'd taken advantage of you."

"Next time," she whispered, "when you tie me..."

"Yes?"

Her teeth grazed his chin. "I want to fight you."

That surprised him. "Oh?"

"Mm-hm. I might say no, and try to run. Is that okay?"

Loklan thought about how she'd struggled earlier. Her pleas and the way she'd writhed. How good it had felt to hold her down and take her like that.

And then he thought about chasing her down, tying her forcefully. Knowing the whole time that she wanted it.

Taking her while she was helpless, immobilized.

"Goddess," he groaned. "You'll drive me mad, Eiara."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes. By the Goddess, yes."

She made a happy sound and snuggled closer. "Did you know you get harder when I say 'I love you'?"

He stilled. "I...yes. I did know that."

"And you twitch inside me."

He closed his eyes and made himself breathe evenly. "I suppose I do."

She touched his half-hard sex very lightly, fingertips trailing his length.

"Is it normal to be like this?" she asked quietly. "I can hardly think of anything else but having you inside me."

"No," he rasped. "I mean, it's... unusual."

"Is it bad, do you think?"

Loklan pulled back to look into her face, but her eyes were downcast, looking at his body, or perhaps avoiding his gaze. Maybe both.

"Why would it be bad?"

She shrugged. "I never seem to be satisfied. Almost as soon as we've finished, I'm thinking about the next time." She did meet his gaze then, and her eyes were luminous, a little self-deprecating. "I might be obsessed."

Loklan grinned. "That is...incredibly flattering."

She slapped his chest. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

Her lips quirked unwillingly.

"It's also mutual," he added, with a little spurt of unwanted vulnerability.

"Yeah?"

"Mm. The Zenopelti call it 'libin-firim.'"

"What's that?"

"Translates roughly to 'lust fever' or 'affection sickness.'"

He did not tell her that it was also their word for love.

He'd read about the Zenopelti after discovering his heritage. In secret, of course.

There were few books on Zenopelti culture in his father's libraries, but he'd found one that spoke with some detail about their traditions.

The Zenopelti considered love a weakness and frowned upon personal attachments, especially romantic ones. Lust, however, was perfectly acceptable in reptilian culture.

Hence their only word for love was also their word for the intense sexual fever that sometimes resulted from genuinely romantic couplings.

"Lust fever, huh?" Eiara touched his cock again, fingers circling the head in a feathery caress. "That seems pretty accurate."

Her mouth drifted across his chest and found his left nipple. Loklan jerked in surprise, thoughts scattering.

"Ooh, sensitive," she murmured, coming back for more.

"Eiara—" he groaned. Goddess, she was nibbling now, pulling the little protrusion with her teeth. How the hell could that feel so damned good?

"Eiara, stop."

"Why?"

"Because—" he broke off when she started stroking him again.

"Oh, that made you get hard fast," she murmured darkly.

"You're bruised," he groaned, holding her wrist to stop her hand. She switched to her other hand and started sucking his nipple again.

"You little fiend," he rasped. "I want you to rest at least a few hours before I take you again."

"I did rest."

"Not enough. I was rough with you. You’re bruised all over."

That gave her pause. "Loklan, I can heal myself right now if that's what you want."

Why had that not occurred to him? "Yes. Dammit. Please do so."

The blankets were still folded back, so he had a clear view when she touched the bruises on her upper thighs. Golden light chased the angry marks away.

"Better?" she turned her face up to him.

"What about the bite marks?"

"I want to keep those. You made me heal them last time."

Bloody hell.

"Did you heal yourself inside?" he managed to ask, fighting a surge of raw lust.

She nodded. "Though I rather enjoy feeling bruised from your cock."

"I do not mean to be that rough with you again today," Loklan growled.

She pouted a little. "You liked hearing me say that, though. Your cock twitched."

"I like a lot of things." He sucked in a breath when her fingertip tickled the little opening at the end of his sex. "That doesn't mean I'm going to do them all to you every day."

"I guess you haven't realized how big your cock is," she replied, amused.

"I—I beg your pardon?"

"You bruise me every time, Loklan. Even when you're gentle. Why do you think it's so easy to make me come? You practically split me open."

He pulled back sharply. "Are you telling me I hurt you every time we make love?"

She grinned. "Only in the best possible way."

Digesting that—with decidedly mixed feelings—Loklan frowned down at her.

"Why does that upset you?" she asked. "You hurt me on purpose half the time."

"Hurting you on purpose to increase your pleasure is very different from hurting you unintentionally and not even being aware that I'm doing it," he grated.

She smiled. "I like all the ways you hurt me."

"Did I hurt you this morning?" he demanded, "The first time, in bed?" They'd never done it that gently before.

Eiara nodded. "Just a little."

"How?"

"I told you, Loklan, you're big. I'm small. You stretched me. And you hit my cervix at the end when you were coming. You always do."

"It's because I didn't prepare you," he grumbled. "We hardly ever engage in foreplay. You wouldn't feel stretched if I did it properly."

She took hold of his face. "You idiot man, listen to me. I like it. I like feeling so full of you that I'm afraid I'm going to split. I like that you take me without warning or foreplay. I like that you hurt me when you're lost in your pleasure. In fact, I love it." She kissed him once, with tongue and teeth, and then pulled back to say, "I want you to do it right now."

Mollified and aroused, Loklan rolled her over and kneed her thighs apart. She opened and he wasted no time thrusting himself inside.

Her sharp, gasping moan was like music.

"Are you stretched?" he growled.

Her eyes were closed, mouth open. "Yes..."

Slowly, he began to thrust. "There's a bottle of oil on the nightstand," he said softly. He'd brought it from the kitchen with their breakfast.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Oil?"

"Mm-hm. For item number three."

Her eyes widened. "Now?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "When I have you tied, I think."

He thrust deep until the head of his cock kissed her cervix. She gasped and her eyes rolled back just a little.

"I'm going to use you quite thoroughly," he explained. "My cock in every orifice."

She shuddered and tightened, rolling her hips into his thrusts. "Yes..."

He brought one of her legs up over his shoulder and started moving faster. "I made you come eight times today, counting this morning in bed. Or was it nine?"

"Don't know," she breathed.

"Last time, did you come at the very end, when I did?"

Eyes closed, she nodded.

"Nine then."

"T-ten," she whimpered, lifting her hips and clutching his waist.

"Mmm, that's so sweet." Loklan pumped through the spasms, watching her face go slack with pleasure.

When she softened into the afterglow, Loklan pulled out, cock standing up rigid and glossy as he sat back on his heels.

He waited for her eyes to open. When she looked up, he lifted one hand and drew his sorcery, conjuring the bundle of rope he'd found in the storage room while she slept.

Eiara's breath caught, eyes widening.

"Now," he growled, "would be a good time to start running."

.

[cosmooverthemoon]

The Wolf

Emma had always surrounded herself with noise. Music, movies, shows, new people, new places, new things. At all times Emma was doing something. She had to. To risk a moment of quiet, away from everything, was to risk hearing her own thoughts, to reflect on where her life was taking her; reflect on what it took to get there. No, it was far better to ignore it all; drown out her thoughts with noise from the world. Maybe that’s where she made her fatal error.

It had started innocent enough. She had met him in a noisy bar. They had hit it off right away. He was loud and bright, constantly the center of attention. The world really seemed to revolve around him. Maybe that’s what drew Emma to him. He generated enough noise for the both of them. So enamored with the carefully crafted exterior she didn’t see the wolf behind his eyes. The wolf stalked her, circling behind green and gold eyes as they danced. The wolf was a master of his craft. Emma became his prey, an unknowing participant in a deadly game. Too caught up in fever of the evening to realize she was walking into a trap.

It wasn’t until they had gone back to his den that the net closed and she realized she was cornered. Away from the noise of the bar the bright exterior melted away, revealing the wolf underneath, teeth bared, claws raised, ready to strike.

When the light of dawn seeped through the window his perfect white carpet was red. A body lay mangled on the ground. Emma sat in the corner, staring at her shaking, bloodstained hands. The police came. So did the firemen. Flashing lights of all different colors, blinding her while sirens blared in her ears. They took the wolf away in an ambulance, but it was no use. Emma knew the wolf was dead.  She knew because she watched the light drain from his eyes as the dawn broke the horizon.

Just as the shouting and sirens seemed like they were going to overwhelm her it went silent. The car door slammed behind her as she was shoved into the back of a police car. The police officer driving offered nothing. A machine, impervious to her presence and for once Emma had no words left. Only the rumble of the car’s engine broke the silence.

            At the police station, they walked her through a solid steel door. Behind it was a bare room with just a steel table and chair. The hard steel chair dug into her back as they left, shutting the door behind them with a click. It was silence like she had never experienced before. It was as still silence, stubbornly refusing the permit even the smallest sound, and yet Emma’s thoughts seemed to bounce around the room with perfect clarity. The very thing she had worked so hard to avoid was suffocating her with its presence.

            In this still world her mind was finally allowed free roam, no longer muffled with endless noise. In the haze of unexplored possibilities her mind conjured the wolf. He sat in in the chair opposite to her. His body and face were ever changing as she struggled to remember his features. But his eyes were unchanging. She remembered them clearly. They were the color of fresh cut grass. Of ivy in spring. Of lilies dancing the still water of a shallow pond. Deep in the green was gold, it wove streaks through his eyes. She remembered them dancing in the lights of the bar as he drew her in. So enamored with the color she didn’t look beyond them. They say eyes are the gateway to the soul. If she had ventured through the gateway maybe she would have seen the monster that lay in wait. It was only when the light was leaving them for the last time, his body going still in its final moments, that she saw the wolf clawing to escape the body that was failing it. Staring at her with unbridled rage in the face of his downfall.

It was never supposed to turn out this way. Over and over, she replayed the night, the images flashing in front of her as she stared into his eyes. The silence pressed around her like a noose. Her world had never been so quiet. In the reprieve her mind took her deeper. All the thoughts that she had kept at bay with the cacophony of the world came bubbling up to the surface. Thoughts she worked so hard to bury. She thought of her mother. An avid drinker that abandoned her to raise herself when she was barely old enough to walk. She thought of her father. A man so obsessed with work she couldn’t even picture his face. She thought of her brother. Her memories of him fragmented by the fog of childhood. All the while she stared into the wolf’s eyes. She was raised in a world ruled by conflict, hostility closed in on her from all sides.

But through it all, it was never the noise that bothered her. As long as her parents were caught up screaming at each other she was safe. It was when it went silent that the hatred turned towards her. The argument was over but the anger was still there. A hard knot in their chests, begging to be released. Once her brother left, she was the only victim that couldn’t fight back. But she had escaped that world. Left her parents behind and fought to give herself a life. Fighting until at last, she had something, a life she was proud of. She had friends, a job, a home. Surrounding herself with noise, because even as she tried to tell herself that she had moved on, silence brought it all back. As the memories swirled in her mind she looked into the wolf’s eyes; the same exact shade as her mothers, with the same wolf behind them.

            She wanted to scream and rage; she was watching as her life crumbled in front of her. Her mind pulled her deeper. She was entering dangerous waters. Even if she claimed self-defense, she had still killed a man and that leaves a mark. She started pacing. There was nothing left for her now. She would surely be fired; her friends would abandon her. Deep down she knew they were friends purely to keep the façade of a social life; once she didn’t fit the mold they would leave. Without a job she would lose her home. Her thoughts started spiraling. The silence closed tighter, she felt like she was suffocating. The air in the room refused to fill her lungs.

            Through the chaos the wolf called quietly to Emma. He promised her relief. He promised claws to shred the silence and teeth to manipulate the world. No longer did he hide behind green eyes, stepping out into the open the shadows that made up his body solidified. Sleek grey fur covered a muscular body. Sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light of the room. His claws clicked on the concrete floor. His eyes turned black. A black that consumed the light around them. They were the color of the ocean at night, of black holes, and shadows at night. No longer did he hide behind the false façade of man but came into the light and promised freedom.

            He whispered in her ear, “your life is in shreds.” his voice was honey to sooth the pain of her emotions. “There is nothing left for you. Nothing but me.” He seemed to be everywhere. Filling to room with his presence. “They will never believe you. Not without me.” His voice was the only sound in the thick silence of the room. It was never supposed to be this way. She had a future. She had a life. Now there was nothing. Nothing but the wolf.

When the door clicked open again, breaking the silence, the officer looked into Emma’s eyes, eyes the color of the rainforest, of emeralds at dawn, of clovers and ivy, and he saw the wolf hiding behind them.