#fic: mark of sage

[tatort-sideblog]

Flüchtige Dealerbekanntschaft? Zwei Jahre her? Und da erkennst du ihn wieder? - Er hat mich auch wiedererkannt.

Tolja [& Yakut] Der gute Weg

[Vielleicht mehr als eine "flüchtige Dealerbekanntschaft"?]

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Pregnancy Drabble

Little drabble to buy me some time because the fics ain't ready yet okay?? Taking inspo from this.

Warning: Pregnancy, Birth. Also I have no idea when it comes to baby weights so I googled shit.

Can you just imagine how snappy you'd be towards Simon during your first birth?

In your hospital gown when Simon helped you waddle your way onto the bed, all emotional and pissed because of the pain..

"Why did it have to have your big head?" You said, accompanied by a whimper in pain and frustration to your husband.

You were gripping his hand for dear life, he refused to tell you about the fact that your nails were digging into his palms even after back at home when you noticed the little subtle crescent shaped wounds left behind.

Simon couldn't even respond besides the stifled laugh, he knows he shouldn't take anything to heart.. you were irritable and understandably so.

One minute it was that and the next you were crying about having bigger stretch marks than you had before. During the check ups you came for, even the doctor herself thought that you'd be carrying twins.. low and behold the ultrasound, it was just one chunky baby who inherited Simon's head..

You almost passed out during the birth itself with how long you had to continuously push, you were a little out of it when it was time to hold your little one.. weighing in at 8 pounds and 12 ounces..

No wonder you felt that you could barely hold yourself up during the pregnancy, you swore to yourself that you are never putting yourself through that again.

Simon helped you hold them up after, his other hand in your hair as his thumb rubbed your scalp, comforting. He pressed his forehead against yours, staring down at the little miracle you popped out..

That vow was easier said than done because you now have two taller than average toddlers climbing their dad's arms and chest, along with another baby who is just pure chunk, the chubbiest cheeks with rolls of baby fat crawling up on their dad's leg..

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @snowdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmuse @konigceo

[dropsnectar]

Fawning Rose: Vine Monster x GN!Reader

The Adventures of an Elven Herbalist Part One

NSFW or NSFT

This is my first time writing anything in 6 years so keep that in mind. Also my first smut fic. Or monster fic. I literally learned about the sexual parts of plants for this fic. Don't know how I got here but this was fun! btw if you don't like oviposition, I marked the parts with three !!! before and after that scene, so you can skip it if you want.

WORD COUNT: 3167, or 7 pages on Docs

It had been a long journey from your home country, having to cross an entire sea to get to the sleepy elven town of Hairevick. An Herbalist, you could craft pills to treat a human flu, create a poultice for a dwarves sore, work-tired limbs; even brew potions to help a beastmen ease out of a mating season-- but it was still lonely. Their were no elves about, except for the rogue eccentric nomad. 

Feeling as you had fully mastered your craft in that area, and curious about your kind, you set forth in hopes of bettering yourself. However, when introducing yourself to your neighbors, you found everyone to be polite, but detached. As far as elves went, you were quite young, and the people of Hairevick were elder and not so trusting of outsiders. But worse of all, everyone here seemed to have an excellent knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their uses in maintaining health. There was no need for an herbalist, especially one so unfamiliar with their lands. 

You spent the entire week mourning your state over glasses and pints of botanical alcohol-- The local tavern drinks were amazing!-- until you finally met a sympathetic face. 

He had long silver hair and the wisp of a ginger beard around his sharp jaw; a peculiar trait. He greeted you friendly enough, asking how you were settling in. It turned out that he owned a store in town, selling odds and ends. He even had a little apothecary in the corner, where those who couldn’t be bothered to make a forest run would buy herbs and tinctures. 

Starved for companionship, you bombarded him with questions about clients, and local herbalism. He was jovial, and after quite a few dregs of honey yarrow grog, offered you a book on the local flora. After some midnight bonding over stories of patients, he gave you a proposition. 

He was having some issues procuring some materials from a special plant, a Fawning Rose. It had incredible healing properties, but a bad habit of uprooting itself and fleeing from anyone who wasn’t a youth. If you could lure it out and bring back anything, be it petals, roots, greens, he would pay you handsomely. Maybe even give you some lessons on how to work with local plant life.

It was for this reason that you found yourself two days into a trip to the heart of the Haire Wilds bordering town. It was not going well. 

***

The cool air caressed your skin as you entered the grove. You had caught a peculiar sweet smell, somehow floral and buttery at the same time, and had followed it with hope filling your heart. The scent had gotten so thick you could taste it, strong as a tea on your tongue. Blue wildflowers covered the ground, interrupted by the common tree route or vine. 

Your eyes followed the vines or small roots, colored a sage with a speckled gradient to midnight blue. They traveled up into the middle of the grove. Sunlight, so rare this far into the Wilds, fell down in large delicious specks from the trees. They refracted off a large flower, almost two yards in width. Its petals were raspberry pink, turning blood red in the middle. Vines from its base led upwards and rested on the low boughs of the nearest trees, framing the flower and its various young buds like some sort of ethereal art study. 

You grew excited, feet tripping over roots as you ran forward, losing a shoe. You lost balance again and landed face first into the crook of a particularly large vine and hit your head. Hard. 

Hot pain crashed through you, making you curse as you steadied yourself. You tried to get up but the heat struck your temple like lightning as you moved upwards. Alright. Best to stay down then. 

As you waited, you were able to see past the stars in your eyes and notice a slight powdery substance on the vines. It, too, was pink. 

Maybe it was the thrill of finally finding the damn thing, or the head injury, but you felt different. You could hear your heart pumping hard in your chest, pleasantly tight. Your breath was ragged, the air pushing a hard, chilling heat through you. 

Like a particularly good run, your mind registered. A high. 

Your limbs started to tingle at the tips.

The rose’s perfume felt more like a mist now. You were only a few feet away from the base flower, and the scent had turned heady. Your hunger from a missed meal seemed to be surfacing, goaded on by the delectable smell the plant was giving off. While the pain eased and the stars disappeared from your eyes, you noticed that the lightheaded fuzzy feeling stayed.

Uh oh. Not a concussion.

You had to work hard to bring the fear into your mind. There was very little anyone could do to help you out here. The best you could do was not move around too much, and hoped the Fawning Rose would cooperate.

Suddenly, you notice some movement from the roots under your palms. 

No no no not now! Please, I haven’t harvested you yet! You thought as you tried to scramble up. 

The roots moved upwards with you, shoving you onto your side. Sliding around your feet, one took your other shoe with it as it slithered about under you. Another seemed to upend itself and squeeze cooly between your toes. You jumped a bit, but your gaze and mind were slow.

Something thick gilded itself on your shoulder making you look up. Vines, three, four, five of them descended and started rubbing themselves against you like cats. The movement was kicking up clouds of the pink pollen, making you sneeze as you wiggled against the plants outer limbs.

A part of you was horrified, thinking that perhaps you had scared the thing off. After all, you had been warned that this type of rose was particularly skittish. But the plant did not seem to be gathering itself to run away, rather it was pulling you closer to itself, the dragging tearing at the underside of your clothes.

Try as you might, you couldn't seem to think. Foggy, fuzzy, your mind was like cotton. The tingling in your fingertips has spread through your body, and an embarrassed part of your brain noticed your lower body was starting to awaken too. A warmth was beginning to pool in your gut, slow and lazy. Tingly. Fuzzy, like your head.

The vines continue to rub against your body, tearing the rest of your clothes away until only skin remains. They were relentless, cool against your hot skin. Their outer layers were textured but still smooth; a foreign sensation but extremely exciting. It felt almost like something was licking you, the powder giving a wet feel as it spread itself all over. Liquid heat glazed the innermost parts of you, much to your embarrassment. 

Aphrodisiac. You finally registered. You started to curse out that damned store keeper. 

You’d been played. 

You were now at the base of the flower, with even more roots and vines cradling and moving over your body. You were… pushed? Pulled? A foot into the air, close enough so that some of the smaller buds were leaning over you, as if they were getting a good look at you. You felt a knowing, a presence from this plant now. It really was looking at you.

Some desperate part of your mind, far far back in your mind, tries to set off danger bells. That you needed to get up and run.

Ooze started to secrete from the smaller buds, and the already overpowering scent of floral butteriness seemed to multiply. It dripped out onto your belly, warm and tingling, then your chest, your inner thigh, even a bit on your cheek.

The syrup dribbled down into the planes of your mouth as you wriggled under the vines. A particularly mischievous one pushes through the plush cheeks of your ass and moves up, poking at your entrance, causing you to gasp. 

The liquid touches your tongue. It tastes just as it smells, deliriously delicious. Sweet. Hot. It was divine compared to the little rations you’ve been eating the last few days. Like youd been starving and had sudden.ly been given free reign of a pastry shoppe. But no pastry could top this silky butteriness

What little heat that had kindled inside you was now a roaring flame, putting your past arousal to shame. You groan, and pull your head up, sticking your tongue out for more. A part of you is screaming to stop and run, but it is a stupid part that is buried instantly under your sudden overwhelming need. You are desperately horny, and you deserve to feel good after all the trouble you've been through lately.  

Still sticking out your tongue, you start to moan even louder as the vine messages your entrance with its thick girth. At the same time, one of the buds above your face seems to notice your desperation, and leans down to your lips.You lick at its plush petals and sweet sweet nectar seeps into your mouth. It tastes much like a floral pastry and you suck greedily as it pushes itself deeper in. 

The petals are so soft, yet still firm in your mouth as a river of nectar floods your throat. You giggled around it as it started to take its full effect. You felt light as air, so good. 

The vines had moved over to allow a bud to circle itself around your most sensitive part. You gasped out as it started to suck you, making stars flood your already glistening eyes. Your wet lashes fluttered as it began to suck wave after wave of pleasure out of your body.You had never felt so good, you noted somewhere in your sex drunk mind.  The whole time, the bud leaked nectar, completely soaking all parts of your groin.

The nectar left your skin feeling sensitive,  and completely soaked. This seemed to please the vines, which continued to massage the oil about you, then finally push in. You cried out at the sensation. Drool started to pool out of your mouth, mixing with the nectar.

 The vines rubbed lazy curving lines around your walls, making your hips jerk and shake. They seemed to know what they were doing as they started out slow for a time, then sped up their pace, thrashing about inside you. You clench around them, overwhelmed by the unyielding sensation. The pooling heat in you was building high, and you could tell the walls were about to break.

A rogue, mischievous bud had decided to examine your hole, tracing around your entrance in lazy circles. The petals were so soft, softer than skin. The texture made you feel desperate. As if to read your mind, the bud stopped. It must have been blooming because you felt little feelers, probably stamans, tracing about your genitals, wet with its lovely, delicious pollen.

 You swore and whined and pleaded for more as the vines fucked you through it, voice garbled by nectar. Another, thicker vine veined in indigo added itself to its companions and you finally came. The rush was like being tossed in the ocean, a shock that completely enveloped your entire body in cold, pulsing ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your juices spilled down on the forest floor below. 

The echoes of the waves of pleasure were still rocking through you when the vines surrounded your body started to move you upwards again. The vines were slow and delicate as they handled you, as if you were precious cargo. You were brought upwards, almost as if they were about to set you on your feet. Your neck was out, as you were still suckling the addicting flower liquid. 

You noticed through your long damp hair that you were positioned just over the center of the Fawning Roses main flower. A drop of nectar slipped out from inside you and dribbled down and onto the flower's green pistil. The stigma was thick, with four fat lumps at the top. The stamen surrounding it swayed, almost as if there was a breeze. Their magenta anthers rained down more pollen, causing a beautiful gradient against the deep red at the middle of the large petals. It was a truly breathtaking sight. 

A single vine wiggled towards your face and pushed back your hair. You found the gesture almost sweet, leaning into its touch. You remained like that for a time, before the vines started to lower you on to the stigma. 

No no no, you tried to whisper, some understanding dawning; but the bud was being aggressive with its feeding, pushing further in your mouth. It had a job, and its job was to make you so desperately horny and stupid, you’d let this flower breed you. 

The stigma was a hard fit at first. Its lumpy texture felt so good rubbing against you, you couldn’t help but hump back into it. The vines around you squeezing your skin, tilting your hips this way in that, trying to make the fit. The surrounding stamen started to rub their anthers against you, two started focusing on your nipples. You continued to hump the stigma, smearing the nectars from your groin all over it. Then, finally, finally, You were able to squeeze it in. 

The vines had taken over the humping for you now, pushing you down harder and harder onto the pistil. The lumps dragged against your walls in such a beautiful way, that you screamed out babbling whines. Your skin was covered in nectar and bright pink pollen. Every part of you was being squeezed, rubbed, oozed upon with tingling liquid, that you weren’t even sure you had a body anymore, just pleasure. After you came for the fourth time, you started to feel a pulsing within the pistil.  It was like the thing seemed to grow within you.

! ! !

Ridges started to squeeze against your entrance, rubbing against your walls. They moved up, up, up, into the deepest parts of you. There was a sudden burst of warmth, then something small and squishy. You marveled at the texture, as the flower continued to lower you down on the pistil, now at a slower pace, in smaller movements. You ached so badly, but the new sensation of the objects and warmth inside you made you wanna keen louder. They felt sort of like eggs.

Seedpods. You registered lazily. You were being turned into a seedbed. 

This realization only seemed to turn you on even more. They felt so good, rolling about inside your walls. The warmth they brought rivaled the cool temperature of the pistil, a delightful duality. 

You moaned with every bulge, push, then pop of warmth and heaviness. It was getting to the point now where the vines were pulling you up off the pistil to make more room for the seeds. 

! ! !

You were cumming so much now you lost count. It was getting to the point that you were just continuously orgasming, as the seeds and the pistil dragged against your most sensitive parts. 

You may have been like that for hours, days even, the nectar kept you so dizzy you couldn’t tell time. But at some point you were so full that the pistil seemed satisfied. The wriggling stamen around you stilled, and the vines carefully lifted you off the pistil, giving one last drag within your walls.

The bloom inside your mouth slowly dragged itself out, making you whine in protest. The vines carefully laid you down at the foot of their roots, arranging your body in a comfortable position. The vines slowly retreated from your body. They lazily moved about, sometimes knocking into each other in a way that was almost comical. Their movements seemed lazy, almost like it too was spent. 

As the last vine left your skin, it caressed your cheek. Within you some affection of your own seemed to bloom. The haze that was in your mind was starting to dull, and replaced itself with the need to rest. Your heavy eyes closed and you gave into sleep.

***

You awoke without opening your eyes. You could feel that the curving mound of roots you’d been sleeping on had been replaced with fluffy grass and soil. The smell of freshly tilled earth flooded your nose, and you jolted upright, eyes wide.

The grove was quiet, and empty of the Fawning Rose. All that was left behind was you, the upturned soil it had left behind, and light dusting of pink pollen on the trees. Even the sweet pastry-like smell had left the grove.

You looked down at your naked, sore body and groaned. You could see a trail of bruises from where the vines had gripped you, along with dried out nectar and tons of pink pollen. Your stomach puffed out a bit more than normal, meaning all of this had NOT been a dream. Much to your surprise, nothing hurt though. Your body felt great, healthily spent like you had just run a marathon. Considering how hard you had been working there should have been some pain, but there wasn’t. Just the pleasant pressure of the seedpods against your insides.You recall the conversation with the shop owner at the tavern. Looks like this is the flower's healing abilities at work.

You continued to search around the grove. Your clothes were still in shreds on the forest floor, but your bag was safely tucked under one of the trees the flower had rested its vines in. With some effort, you managed to get yourself off the ground to pick it up, waddling the whole way. 

The pollen was still working its magic on you, but you guessed you had been exposed to it long enough to build a slight tolerance. Or maybe the growing rage within you was doing the trick. You pulled out one of the many glass bottles, and a silver knife. You went to work, scraping the dried nectar and pollen off your body, into the jars.

I’m gonna charge that asshole so much money, his kids will be poor. You seethed as you spent hours getting your money's worth off of every plane of your body. You’d have to birth those seed pods later too. Your insides grew warm at the thought. 

You tried not to think about how you were going to have to walk home naked, where you’d been and what you’d been doing laid bare upon your skin. It’d be free advertising tho, you tried to reason. 

You'd make a killing. Aphrodisiacs were rare, and extremely expensive, especially to a crowd of immortals. I think I'll sell these seed pods on my own though. You smiled. 

You’d make sure to be properly prepared the next time you went into the wilds.

Might do a part two, maybe with slimes next time? Also sorry about any switching of tenses, I have a hard time with that! Hope you guys enjoyed!

[acapelladitty]

Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?

A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)

(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)

Call Out Loud For You

Link to AO3 series

Fic Masterlist

Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.

It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.

But still.

He had been a prick about it.

"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.

Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.

"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."

His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.

For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.

Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.

He knew he was in the wrong.

Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.

As was how horny his little games had made you.

Fuck it.

You were getting yours, one way or another.

"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."

Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.

"That I did."

"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."

Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.

"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."

Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.

"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."

Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.

"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"

Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.

What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.

"Oh, it's like that is it."

"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."

A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.

"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.

"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."

His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.

He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.

He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.

"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.

Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-

Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.

His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.

A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.

A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.

Discomfort and pleasure.

Ecstacy and pain.

Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.

Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.

"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."

It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.

Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.

Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.

Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.

His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.

"Not bad, old timer."

Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.

Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.

"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."

"Little?"

Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.

Still, he couldn't resist the bait.

"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"

Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.

It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.

It was your turn after all.

[dandyslibrary]

🐍🐙🏹

Jamil, Azul, Rook x Reader — Yandere — Angst — TWST

You guys ; NOOOO SAGE,, ANGST AGAIN!?!?

Me ; you eat whats on your plate >:(( Hope this will feed you guys for the time being while I’m making the other fics, this is just a silly gift for @plumipal !! hope you enjoy plumi.

FOR THOSE WHO ARE CONFUSED ON WHATS THE PROMPT!! Check out Plumipals' yan twst tattoo au. Then this could probably more sense!

Also probably OOC??

TW;; Aww angst :((, pfft no I’m not biased w jamil, DEESSPPERATE BOYS, Jamil crying, Sad Azul, Emotionless(?) Rook, all of them hating on the tattoo, Bad grammar?, Rook watching you sleep, Rook's part is a bit short maybe.

JAMIL VIPER 🐍

That damn tattoo.. that stupid tattoo. He hates it so much, he hates it so so bad. Why? Why did you have to put that stupid thing on you?

And what’s even worse is that it’s because of HIS overblot. It’s because of him that you got that horrible mark on your wrist.

It’s all he can think about, all he can think about is that tattoo. He feels like he’s going crazy, like he’s about to overblot.

again.

He just can’t take it, he can’t! It’s always on his mind. You looked so happy, smiling, when you confirmed that you had that tattoo. You even showed it to him as if it was the greatest decision you made..

He just wishes that oh so beautiful smile was engraved in his brain. And not that horrible tattoo.

Poor Jamil, he can’t sleep at all. His eye bags are so visible under his eyes. He couldn't eat properly either, he couldn't bring himself to stand up and get fresh air. Whats even more annoying is that Kalim has been questioning if he's fine

Jamil just simply scoffed and told him he was fine. But really he wasn’t, you probably hate him don’t you? You probably despise him to the point where you don’t wanna see him.

Well actually, you don’t, he just can’t bear to see you. Whenever he does all he can focus on is the tattoo on your wrist. It pains him so bad for being the reason of it.

Seeing you would just make him cry right on the spot, he feels so worthless and horrible.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he started to avoid you. Like that was a good idea..

It just only made things worse than they were before, Jamil also came to a realization that he can’t live another day without seeing you.

Yes, he does hate the fact that he’s the reason you got the tattoo. But he also hates the fact of not being able to be with you. He wants to spend every second of his life with you.

Literally like a week later you were met face to face with a Jamil who looked so close to crying. He looked like a wreck, unlike the usual stoic and independent Jamil you’re used to seeing.

"Y/n.." he called out to you his eyes stuck on the ground.

"Jamil.." You answered him. How did it get this bad? You put your hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? I haven't seen you all week.. and now you suddenly appear in front of me looking like a mess.. no offense.”

Jamil balled up his fists, the hand that you put on his shoulder was the same hand where the tattoo was in. He hated it. He shut his eyes tightly wanting the image of that tattoo out of his brain.

"Jamil?" you called out for him once more.

Opening his eyes, now staring at you directly into your eyes. You could see the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Y/n." he stammered "Please don't hate me."

"Jamil- why would I-"

"That tattoo.. it was because of me, its my fault isn't it? You despise me don't you." sniffling he grabs your other hand gently pushing the other one off of his shoulder.

He pulls your hand up to his face, your palm cupping his cheek. "I need you Y/n, I need you to love me as much as I do. I'm not second to those two right?" he continued tears slowly falling down his cheeks a smile creeping up his face.

It wasn’t because of happiness though.

"I'll be better, I promise, I'll make sure I change- anything you want from me, its yours. Just please.. please choose me."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO 🐙

When he first heard about the tattoo he couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it! You surely haven't marked yourself with those' idiots symbols, right?

You wouldn't.. yeah! Those rumours are just rumours. Theres a big chance they aren't true anyway. He would only believe them if he see's it for himself!

So for the first few days he was fine.. still overthinking. But he's just being paranoid! It's just a thing that.. will simply pass.

That was until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to silence those thoughts, they were so noisy. He invites you into Mostro Lounge's VIP room.

He asks about the tattoo and you confirm the rumours were true. You even had the audacity to roll up your sleeve and show it off proudly.

Fucking ouch, he felt his heart shatter at that point. He wishes that he just let those voices in his head be.

"I- I see, good to know you have.. such amazing friends." he spoke bitterly with a smile. shit- he stuttered.. hope you didn't notice it..

He clears his throat, are tears forming in his eyes? He has to hold it in.. He can't look like a loser. Not in front of you..

He asks you to leave.. which he rarely does. His excuse being that he has a lot of work to do. But actually, he just wants to lock himself up and never go out again.

When you leave the tears start flowing. His elbow on his desk, while his fingers massage his temple. The papers on his desk were getting soggy, but he doesn’t care.

He could recover those papers but it would probably take so much for you to remove those stupid tattoos. Do you hate him? He thought that you and him already made up from his overblot..

He's been stuck in his office for such a long time. He's put Jade in charge for now. He needs time for himself…

The longer hes stuck in there the more he thinks about that horrid tattoo. It's stuck in his mind, and it’s torturing him. He can't let anyone else see this. He can't allow anyone to see him as a stupid little crybaby.

He just wants to sink back into his octopot..

But then an idea pops in his head.. he should think of ways to maybe, earn your favor and get his own tattoo too. Thats the perfect idea!

He tries to make up a contract but all of his ideas go to the trash. They're all so horrible! No way you'd sign these..

They're just not perfect enough for you! Most of them seem childish.. and probably stupid. If he gave one of these to you then you'd probably see him as an idiot!

"No.. no.. no..! None of these contracts are good enough!" he crumpled up the contract he was holding it and threw it into the pile across the room.

How isn't he enough for you!? Why did you have to choose those two! He's- He's your friend too right? He'll do anything for you!

So why.. why did you just have to get a tattoo of them?

He starts crying again, how many times has he cried? He's not sure. He continues to sob covering his face with his eyes.

"Prefect would never love a stupid octopus like me.."

ROOK HUNT 🏹

He stares down at your sleeping figure, your tattooed wrist exposed right in front of him. What is that, mon amour? A tattoo?

Oh! how beautiful, why hasn't he heard you talking about it though?

Oh well, at least hes the first one to see it. He bends down smiling inspecting the tattoo closer.

It reminds him of something.. no actually, someone- hold on, Deuce and Ace?

..Did you seriously get a tattoo of them? W-well, its beautiful! The beauty of friendship is truly amazing. Your bond between Ace and Deuce is truly something!

But why did you have to mark your skin with those symbols though? Couldn't it be something better? Like his name, or maybe something that reminds you of him..

He's your friend too isn't he? So why didnt you get a tattoo for him too?.. He's done so much to make you happy!

He's always tried to keep you safe too.. And to always give you gifts and appreciate for the things you have done when nobody did.

So why didn't you get a tattoo of him too?

Yes he knows! Ace and Deuce have been there longer than him.. But he could treat you better than they ever could..

...

he isn't sure how to feel about this.

So for that night he leaves early going back to pomefiore.

For the next few weeks you notice that Rook has been really silent. You dont feel like anyone's watching you either.

You haven't heard Rook's praises about love in a while either.. so something must be wrong with him. You invite him to Ramshackle so you could help him cheer up.

Rook is oh so grateful, he would be singing praises about your generosity if he wasn't so down at the moment. Rook needs you. Rook wants you to like him to the point you'd get him a tattoo of him also.

Rook finds himself laying his head on your lap his arms wrapped around your waist while kneeling on the ground. You gently run your fingers through his soft silky blonde hair.

Rook sniffled and looked up at you, and you could see a single tear form in his eye.

"My heart yearns for your favor, mon amour. I wish to be as loved as much as you love Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade. But It seems that you haven't noticed that yet." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You tilted your head to the side slightly. You didn’t hear him clearly and ask him to repeat what he said.

He would’ve, but he just doesn’t feel like answering so he looked away from your eyes. You understood and went back to patting him gently.

He takes a deep breath in burry his head back into your stomach. "You’re so cruel, yet I still love you. The things I do for love." The things he does for you. He would do anything for you.

"I've never let anyone see me in this vulnerable state.” You’re so cruel, but he will still love you. No matter what, he will wait for you to love him back.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

BAM DONE. I had a little fun writing this honestly, silly little break. Thanks for reading up to this point. Sorry for the grammatical errors..

[ja3hwa]

Jae's Recommendations pt.4

Damn I haven't done one of these in a while. But at this point, are you even surprised I'm making another recommendation list? Hehe, more and more I read. The more I uncover treasures hidden away. Now, I must share these absolutely amazing fics because they deserve attention.

Marks [By @last-words-ofashootingstar ♡]

Taking care of you [By @sage-space ♡]

Atz taking their kids to the studio [By @blu-joons ♡]

Better Than I do [By @emeraldelysian ♡]

Spaces In Between [By @kitten4sannie ♡]

Waterfall [By @shinestarhwaa ♡]

Pool Party [By @a-soft-hornytiny ♡]

Last Night Swim [By @kitten4sannie ♡]

Riding San [By @ateezscupid ♡]

Slow Down [By @strawberryya ♡]

Five Of Cup [By @flowerboykun ♡]

Jealous Pt.1 & Pt.2 [By @cyberpxnk ♡]

Fuck Me Like You Fantasize [By @strawberryya ♡]

Speed [By @riboism ♡]

Size Kink Go Brr [By @pyeonghongrie ♡]

Ateez As Bender [By @cybrsan ♡]

Put On A Show [By @crazyforhwa ♡]

MinSanHwa Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 [By @akistaytiny ♡]

Hot Summer Night [By @astayinwonderland ♡]

Sway With Me [By @luvt0kki ♡]

Getting Caught [By @shinestarhwaa ♡]

Young God Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 [By @yourfatherlucifer ♡]

Deep Down [By @seventhcallisto ♡]

Water Bomb [By @jonghoslvt ♡]

Game Over [By @desirehorizon ♡]

Run, Rabbit, Run [By @kitten4sannie ♡]

If You Listen [By @ughsimpp ♡]

Project Omen [By @atzfilm ♡]

Sails And Anchors Pt.1 Pt.2 [By @lemontreefantasy ♡]

—

There are so many more stories I'd love to add. But alas Tumblr as a tag limit (which is stupid but oh well). Until the next recommendation post. Enjoy these gorgeous fics that will most definitely satisfy any need. ♡♡♡

Also, thank you to each and every one of these amazing authors. You all are such amazing writers and deserve the word. Hehe ♡♡

Make sure to check out my own Masterlist. Hehe. And don't forget to check out my other recommendations posts here.

[blingblong55]

Bloom- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request:

Could you do a fic, simon x witch! reader where the reader is a very powerful witch (like Scarlet witch powerful). Simon gets lost in a forest during a mission after being shot by some blue energy by the enemy team. He doesn't know that the forest is an enchanted one. The reader finds him wounded and with a mysterious energy so she takes him to her sanctum sanctorum in the forest (🙈) and then he has to stay for a few months for the reader to study that energy and then they fall in love.  Thanksss ❤️ ---- F!Reader, witch!au, fluff/romance? ----

You live near a small, calm, beautiful and peaceful river. It is said that this river is special, that if you follow it, you'll find the mythical and wonderful creatures that roam it. From fairies to soft fur cats, this place is truly magical. 

One day, as the sun is still looking over the trees, a tired soldier finds the peculiar place you call home. It was like out of a soft and kind witch story. A flower-filled garden was the entrance to such a place, the birds chirping and two cats roaming by what welcomed him. It is as if the sweet creatures lured his wounded body into this side of the forest. 

It's a long walk before he can even get close to such a place. Simon walks with caution, gun steady as he approaches this place. His eyes were vigilant, looking over the vegetation, the windows and then the door. His body begs to sit down and he complies. He finds some tree, sits down and looks at his wounds. "Bloody hell, Simon. You fuckin' had to ruin this mission, you blood muppet," he curses himself and shakes his head.  

The second you see him, you can tell there is truly something wrong, no right-minded person comes to this part of the woods. Your cat looks up at you and you nod. As you approach him, something tells you to be cautious and you follow that feeling. 

All of a sudden, his body freezes and he is turned over. His eyes come in contact with yours. They are so beautiful, just like the nature that surrounds him and you. 

"Who must you be?" you ask him rather later after your eyes scanned his body. "...Soldier...I'm a soldier, and you are?" Simon's voice is deep and raspy. "I'm Y/N, I live here, what are you doing here?" He takes a moment to try to explain his situation, "..I stumbled through here, running away-"

"Oh god, you're bleeding-those damn farries," you take his hand and guide him into your home. It was always known to you that when you found this place, the farries that here long before you did, always tried to get you to help any and everything. You were too powerful, they weren't and since they were sneaky but helpful, you and them made such a good team when help was needed. 

His brow was bloody, and so was his cheek, arm and left thigh. What must someone do to earn this?

There is truly no evil in you, which is by some force, you stumbled upon a home like this. It's a perfect, secluded place and it even brings magical friends now and then. 

"Who did this to you?" you ask him gently, trying to not alarm him with a louder voice. "I...it's not important," he lies and you shake your head. "They seem superficial, except the leg, which one needs a lot of time to heal," you explain, not trying to push the previous subject. 

When you put on your special glasses, made by the kind fairies, you can see why such thigh injury would take time to heal. This man was not hurt by any human, any normal one that is. 

You run to your garden, urging to find red tulips. Your eyes turn a sage green colour before switching to a soft pink as the plant decays and you rush back in. "What's wrong?" Simon asks but you shush him up. "You stay seated, don't interrupt," you say, not trying to be gentle anymore. The mark of black magic was always noticeable to those with the special eyewear. 

A black with gold buttons cape comes flying from the nearby table and places itself around your shoulders, the hood so effortlessly falling on your head. You begin to whisper, calling for all help to turn the decayed flower into medicine to heal him. 

The room goes completely dark and silent and before he knew it, you had a bowl in your hand. 

You kneel in front of him, and he panics but before he can say a word, your cat walks to him, licks his hand and purrs. Your cat always knew best and calming Simon was a wise move. 

Simon sighs as he feels relief in the medicine you're applying. His wound finally became normal, the odd colour it had now gone. You stand up, "You mustn't leave, not until you are safe," you advise with caution. "Why not? what will happen if I leave?" he asks with fear in his voice. "Whoever did this is still out there, searching for the mark it left on you, now, whilst you're here, you mustn't leave this part of the forest," you tell him softer this time. 

He looks down, weighing his options. 

Once those sweet brown eyes of his lay back on you, you smile, knowing his answer. 

For nearly five months, Simon has it here with you. Adoring the days and nights when he doesn't feel like his life is at risk by some gun or bomb, all he looks out for is those fairies playing tricks again. 

With time, you and him enjoy the time you spend together. He tells you his life story under the willow tree by your home and you tell him yours. 

Nights become sweeter when he and you sit under the moon. "I like this place," he confesses and you smile. Truth be told, there is an odd feeling you've been getting each time he flashes you a smile. What must it be? No clue, you lie to yourself. 

Slowly, month six comes by and you've decided to enjoy all activities, not wanting to be the powerful witch you are but a woman in her twenties, enjoying the sun in the safest forest there is to be. Simon has become the person you roam the forest with, telling him silly stories of the animals you find along the way. Every day, he sits down in the leaf-covered room you call your laboratory and lets you inspect the dark magic wound. And every day, he watches you in a different light, at least now he does. 

With time, he sits under a full moon, confessing that his heart began to beat for more than the gun he held dear. "I think I have begun to enjoy you by my side, Y/N. It's weird, I don't know if I should like you or feel...different about you but I do like this feeling." He looks at you as your eyes soften. 

"Simon," you begin but he cuts you off. It's like a symphony that plays beside you when he cups your face. "I like that I'm not afraid of life, not since you walked into it," he whispers before nervously kissing you. Both your eyes closed as this warm and sweet feeling rushed through your veins. 

Isn't it beautiful? 

Being heaven-struck by the kiss of a soldier who he, himself always wanted that feeling too. Yeah...there is something else this forest holds. 

A/N: I don't why..but let me confess that each time I write something that isn't smutty, I get sleepy and its such a good feeling..anyway..bye

Tags:

@liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @coralwitchdreamland @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate

[chronosdawn]

Attached - Alpha!Wriothesley x Beta!Reader

a/b/o AU, GN!Reader

A/N: I got the idea for this while working on another, longer a/b/o fic so instead of working on that like I was supposed to, I wrote this OTL

Word count: 1.3k

Content warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mild sexual content and themes (minors please DNI)

Not many got the chance to know the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide well. Certainly, almost everyone in Fontaine knew of him, and as the Fortress’s administrator, many people had some sort of contact with him, be they convicts of the Fortress or proprietors of businesses hoping to gain a foothold there.

But among those, very few got to actually know the Duke beyond his title and position, and when you’d first met him, you’d had no reason to think you’d be any different. Sure, you had been invited there by him personally, which was rare, but made sense once you’d learned he was looking to procure resources for some project that was being worked on in the Fortress—something you had a lot of experience doing for members of the Fontaine Research Institute.

Over the course of several meetings—and more than a couple of pots of tea—a tentative friendship had formed between you. One that had turned into something quite different when you’d accidentally stumbled into his office while he was in a rut.

And that, was how you’d come to end up in your current situation—seated in Wriothesley’s lap with your overnight bag discarded by the door to his room. You hadn’t expected this to become a regular occurrence when you’d first offered him your assistance, but for some reason the stubborn fool had refused to seek out an omega to spend his ruts with, even if you both knew that was what he actually needed.

He nosed against the back of your neck before going in with a gentle nip of his teeth, dangerously close to where your small beta scent gland lay.

“Careful,” you warned, “you know our agreement, nothing that can’t be taken back. I don’t want to be the reason your future omega ends up developing some sort of complex.”

Wriothesley stilled briefly before grazing his teeth over your nape once more. “What would you do if I did?”

“What do you mean?” You tried to turn around to look at his face, but the muscular arms around your waist kept you locked in place, pressed tightly against the firm planes of his chest.

“What would you do if I decided to put a claiming bite on you? Right now, you’re not in any position to stop me.”

“You wouldn’t,” you said with absolute certainty, even as he nipped at you again, harder this time.

“What makes you so sure?” His rut had come on enough that even you could smell the pheromones he was pumping out into the air, a rich leathery musk with notes of clary sage.

“I know you, you just wouldn’t.”

“You sound pretty convinced of that.”  He went quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely audible as he muttered into your skin. “Do you even know what I was originally sentenced here for?”

“I do.” He’d never told you himself but you remembered reading about his trial in the newspaper your father had left out on your dining room table. “But that’s neither here nor there. You’re not the sort of person who’d force a yourself on someone, and I can’t imagine you ever being disloyal to your mate. Even if for some strange reason you seem reluctant to go out and find them.”

He let out a chuckle but there was no real humour in it. “You know, sometimes I wish you thought a little less highly of me.”

“If I didn’t think so highly of you, I wouldn’t be here, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do.” He went back to worrying at your neck, his mouth over your scent gland. Instead of biting down, however, he sucked at the skin in a way that was certain to leave its own sort of claiming mark, but one that would fade within a week. 

“You don’t seem to be in any hurry,” you noted, as he took his time littering your nape with hickeys, despite the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your ass.

“How long can you stay?” His hands began to wander slowly over your body, the heat of his palms burning through your clothes.

“A couple of days.” You let out a sigh, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his touch while you could. “I’ve got a trip to Liyue scheduled to check on some ore shipments and it’s too late to rearrange it. Sorry I can’t be here for the whole thing; I should be able to help you through the worst of it though.”

“And when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure. Some of the merchants we’re dealing with are really dragging their feet for some reason. I should be back before your next one, although whether that’s really a good thing or not, I don’t know. Might have been a good incentive for you to actually seek out a more permanent arrangement.”

“I really wish you’d stop bringing that up.” One of his hands slipped underneath your shirt, sliding beneath your undergarments so he could give your nipple a firm squeeze. “What’s so wrong with this?”

You let out an undignified squeak and chastised him with a light slap to the thigh. “I know I sound like some nagging old aunt, but I just want you to find someone who makes you happy. Truly happy, not just sex.”

“And if I said you make me happy?”

“I can’t, not in the way deserve,” you said a little sadly, before putting the thought out of your mind altogether. It was best not to think about what ifs that could never be, it would only lead to hurt. “Now, what do you say we get a move on, before you get so wound up you tear straight through my clothes. Again.”

Wriothesley loosened his hold enough for you to turn around in his lap, fingers moving to undo the buttons of your shirt as he watched with rapt attention.

“With the way you’re so fond of telling me off, anyone would think you’re the alpha in this relationship.” He made no move to touch you, simply observing as you shed your garments one by one. You weren’t entirely sure how he was managing it, you could see the flush on his cheeks, feel the tension in his body—a piece of elastic a hair’s breadth from snapping. Still, if any alpha would have the self-control to hold themselves back during a rut, it would be him.

“Come on mister, it’s not fair to make me do all the work.” You moved to start helping him out of his waistcoat, his jacket having already been shed before you’d even entered the room.

“Alright boss,” he replied with obvious sarcasm, a smirk curling at his lips. With no warning, you were suddenly lifted and flung onto the bed, Wriothesley following you quickly after, caging you in with his body and leaving no hope of escape. “If you’re that eager, you don’t have to wait for me to go into a rut, you know, you can come here anytime. I’ve asked the staff at the front desk to let me know as soon as they see you.”

“It’s a tempting offer.” You helped him out of his waistcoat as he pulled off his tie and tossed it somewhere in the room. “But I’d hate to be the reason for a decline in the efficiency of management of the Fortress.”

“Always an answer for everything.” You didn’t get a chance to retort before his mouth was covering yours, hot and hungry as he ground his hips against your thigh. It would seem his control had finally failed him, as when you kissed back, he let out a satisfied growl from the back of his throat, fingers digging into your flesh as he tugged you into the position he wanted.

You simply let him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you braced yourself for what was sure to be a long and tiring—if enjoyable—affair.

[dukewrio]

misguided intentions (alhaitham x gn!reader)

-

fuck today. y/n could swear they had never experienced a worse day in their life. everything that could go wrong went wrong, and they spent majority of the day holding back tears. leaving work finally, two hours later than they were scheduled. part of them just wanted to head home and hide under their blanket for the rest of the night. however, they decided to go visit alhaitham, their boyfriend, at his current work: acting as the grand sage.

y/n decided that maybe they could convince alhaitham to head home with them for some much needed quality time. as they walk up to the grand sage’s office they slowly feel the weight of their stress begin to melt off of them in anticipation of seeing their person.

opening the door, y/n sees alhaitham hunched over his desk eyebrows scrunched together. they let themself in, and begin walking towards him.

“hey, i just got off work and i-“ y/n is interrupted by alhaitham raising his hand and looking up toward them.

“y/n, not now. i have a lot of important tasks to deal with, i can’t be bothered.” alhaitham’s tone comes off short. y/n feels all their stress appear back on their shoulders, but even heavier.

“oh… yeah.” y/n mutters and then leaves with a quickness that leaves no room for alhaitham to say anything else. they rush out of the akademiya, tears free flowing from their eyes. unbeknownst to them, rushing past kaveh on his way to see alhaitham as the acting grand sage took his key again. today was thursday, and on thursdays y/n would normally stay at alhaitham’s. however, due to their previous interaction they figured it would be best to go to their apartment instead, as to not bother him anymore.

as y/n walks through the doors of their apartment they only bother to shed their outer layers and shoes, which end up in a heap on the floor, before crashing on their couch and falling asleep.

-two hours later-

y/n awakes to the sound of rustling book pages and the weight of a hand resting and gliding through their hair. fluttering their eyes open, y/n looks up and sees the fluffy grey hair of their boyfriend peeking over the pages of the book he seems engrossed in. as if sensing y/n’s eyes on him, he marks his page and sets the book down meeting their eyes.

“what are you doing here?” y/n’s voice comes out hoarse.

“kaveh came to my office soon after you left and said he saw you crying,” alhaitham frowns. “when i couldn’t find you at home i decided to see if you were here.”

“oh,” y/n pauses. “i-i am okay, you didn’t have to come look for me, i know you are busy.”

“y/n, i shouldn’t have reacted to you that way when you came into my office,” he sighs. “just because my workload explains my actions, doesn’t mean it should excuse them. I am truly sorry.”

alhaitham brushes the hair away from y/n’s face as he waits patiently for a response. y/n’s eyes begin to water as they finally feel the comfort they’ve been craving. sobs escape y/n’s lips, alhaitham is quick to react pulling them into embrace and rubbing their back allowing them to cry.

“i will do better to be here for you, i promise. from here on you won’t have to suffer alone.”

-

a/n: this is definitely a self comfort fic haha, but i thought i would share haha.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! I'm craving some cozy autumn vibes johnlock fics to read in the cold season. Do you have some recs? Lots of love <3

Hi Lovely!!

Oh what a fun list idea!! I can't believe I've never thought of doing one given that Autumn is my fave season! I know more fics than what I picked here for you take place in the Fall, but I've only included ones with the season in the tag. If anyone has more fics, PLEASE add them and give me a hand :)

Hope you enjoy these fics!!

AUTUMN / FALL FICS

See also:

Hot and Cold Fics (June 2022)

Halloween and Ghosts (updated Oct 31/21)

Halloween Fics 2023 (MFLs)

BOOKMARKS

And as the seasons change, I love you more by Teatrolley (NR, 3,219 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff and Angst, Est. Rel., Marriage / Proposal) – A year in the lives of John and Sherlock, essentially.

In the Bleak Midwinter (A Canticle for Advent) by CaitlinFairchild (M, 3,476 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Injury, Missing Scenes, HLV Timeline) – In the autumn of 2014, Mary Watson shot Sherlock Holmes. This is what happened after.

Let me be the wallpaper that papers up your room by Teatrolley (NR, 3,966 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Two Idiots in Love, Fluff, Domestics) – Four seasons in the life of Sherlock and John, really.

Pater Noster by SilentAuror (E, 34,256 w., 2 Ch. || Case Fic, HLV/S3 Fix It Fic, Family Trauma, Sherlock POV, Villain Mary) – During the autumn that John is staying at Baker Street again after Sherlock was shot, he ruminates over the similarity between Sherlock's shot and the one that killed his father when he was fifteen. Cold case meets series 3 fix-it. Part I takes place entirely within His Last Vow, Part II takes place starting at the end of HLV and continues after.

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fix-It, First Person POV Sherlock, Infidelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

MARKED FOR LATER

Into the Gloaming by Vulpesmellifera (M, 8,385 w., 4 Ch. || Heavy Angst, Child Death, Grief / Mourning, Mentions of Cancer, Corvids, Fever Dreams, Hopeful Ending) – She lays the sage bundle down in one of his seashells, avoiding the label. How he loved cataloging natural items. That sharp mind of his so naturally tended to the sciences, and she’d taken great joy in encouraging him all his life. All the first thirteen years of it. The last year has been entirely different. His hand lies just outside the white comforter. When she touches it, the chill of his skin sends a shiver down her spine. His lips move, his voice as soft as dead, dry leaves. “What’s that, love?” she says. “In the trees,” he says, his eyes still closed. “Is it John there in the trees? I think he’s waiting for me.” Viola turns her gaze out the window and to the closest tree, a resplendent cherry in the throes of autumn. In the branches there, for just a second, she thinks she sees it: a black bird, feathers gleaming in the sun.

A Thousand Kisses Deep by Susan (E, 12,689 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Time Travel, Longing, Angst, Post S1, Time Travel Fix It) – “Come here,” Sherlock said and when he did, he put his arm across John’s shoulder, and pulled him close. John let him, and after a moment, rested his head against Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock felt the familiar ache, a longing for what might have been. If only he’d been braver, more sure of John’s feelings. He dropped his arms and stepped back. It was too late. Things were as they were meant to be. But it was autumn in Sussex, and everything was changing. If you were given a chance to go back to the beginning and make things right, would you take it?

Hot Water Bottle by khorazir (T, 18,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Autumn, Bed Sharing, Developing Relationship, First Kiss) – A case in one of the remotest corners of the Lake District, a storm, an inn, a broken boiler, a room with two beds but only one hot water bottle, and two men who have a lot to sort out between them – all of this makes for a night to remember.

Johnloctober by prettysailorsoldier (E, 169,945 w., 31 Ch. || Assorted AU’s || Alternate First Meetings, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, 30 Day OTP Challenge, Prompts, Halloween / Autumn, Assorted Tags) – 31 days of autumnal Johnlock with prompts from all of you! There will be a bit of everything, but you can check the tags for more specifics.For a summary of every chapter, as well as individual tags, click here.

Enigma by khorazir (M, 289,667 w., 23 Ch. || Codebreaker / WWII / Imitation Game-Inspired AU || Case Fic, Espionage, Period-Typical Homophobia / Sexism, Pining Sherlock, Inexperienced / VirginSherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Non-Graphic Violence) – It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies' encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

[skyward-floored]

I have a request, IAU Four being a mentor to Sun and Sky’s triplets in the future since well, I think the triplets refer to to triforce heroes Links, right? I say this cause well, why not? And I think it’ll be really cool so uhhh I hope you do not mind :D

Yep, the triplets are the tri force heroes Links :) I had to slip them in somehow, I’m too attached to them lol.

Another fic where Four is a little older, probably similar in time to that one with him and Wind I wrote the other week. Early teens. Ish.

(requests are closed)

————————————————————

Wild’s motorcycle pulled to a stop on the edge of the street, Four removing his arms from around his older brother as he turned off the bike.

“Alright Smithy, don’t take too long, I’ve got to go in like fifteen minutes,” Wild said, and Four nodded, taking his helmet off and handing it to Wild.

“No problem, I’ll be quick. Though if you want to make sure I don’t take too long, you could just come in with me,” Four said as he hopped off his brother’s motorcycle. “I bet Sky is home, and the triplets haven’t seen you in weeks.”

Wild’s face scrunched. “I’d love to, but you know Azy would just foretell my doom or whatever.”

Four snorted. “He only did that once.”

“Yeah, and he was right!”

“You fell down the stairs, Wild. You literally do that all the time.”

Wild rolled his eyes as Four smirked, and waved him in. “Yeah yeah whatever, go on. I don’t have all day, hop to it.”

Four let out a laugh, and walked up the sidewalk to Sky and Sun’s house, listening to the wind chimes on their front porch, and wondering idly if Aryll had talked to any rare birds lately. He paused to look at some chalk drawings of birds and oddly-shaped people on the path, and in doing so, didn’t notice a blond head pop up from behind a bush, or the excited gasp ring through the yard.

“Four! Four!” a voice squealed, and Four turned around just in time to see one of his cousins launch himself at his arms.

Four yelped and dropped the bag he’d been holding, catching Crimson just in time. The boy giggled wildly as he hugged him, rufous eyes sparkling, and Four sighed and ruffled his hair, glad he’d been able to drop the bag in the soft grass.

“Hi Crim, happy to see you too. Where’re your brothers?” Four asked as he looked around, and Crimson bounced back out of his arms, and began tugging him forward.

“Backyard! Sage zapped Aryll so Mommy kicked him outside, and Azy was keeping him company,” he reported as he dragged Four forward, Four just barely grabbing his bag. “Come on come on!”

“Just a second, I’ve got to return something first,” Four said as he was dragged inside. “Aryll?”

A blonde head peered around the corner, and Aryll smiled at the sight of him.

“Oh, hi Four,” his other cousin said, nursing a hand close to her chest as she walked into the room. “What’s up?”

Four saw some reddish marks on her skin as she turned her hand, and he winced. If the bandages were anything to go by, it looked like Sage had gotten her pretty good.

Little kids with powers were always something of a hazard.

Aryll was looking at him expectantly, and Four shook himself, reaching into the bag he’d brought and pulling out the box that was inside.

“I fixed your telescope,” he grinned, and carefully unwrapped and it handed it to her. Aryll’s face lit up and she squealed, running over and taking it gently from his grasp.

“Oh it’s perfect! You totally fixed it!” she said, looking through the glass. “Thank you so much Four!”

“No problem, glad I could help,” Four grinned, and then got tugged away again by Crimson.

“Come onnnnn,” Crimson groaned, and Four gave in and let him pull him outside with one last wave at Aryll.

They went out the back door and saw Sage at the swing set, flopped on a swing on his stomach, expression glum. Azure was happily swinging in the swing next to him, and he waved as Four came out, pumping his legs so he’d go higher.

“Look Four! I’m taller than you!” he called as he swung up into the air, and Four smiled.

“Wow, looks like it. Hi Azure. And hi Sage,” he greeted next, and Sage mumbled a hi in return, poking at the dirt.

Four hummed at the lackluster response, and sat down next to him as Crimson got on another swing, looking at his little cousin. Sage kept poking at the dirt, and Four gave him a poke in return, ignoring the light shock of static he got for his trouble.

“So, you shocked Aryll again, huh.”

“Not on purpose,” Sage mumbled, adding a head to his dirt stick-figure. “She’s just so bossy sometimes, and she wasn’t listening and then I got mad and I zapped her— by accident. Honest.”

“You need better control, kiddo,” Four said, and Sage growled, kicking at his picture to erase it.

“Everyone says that. Aryll says it, Mommy says it, Daddy—”

Sage went abruptly quiet, and Four raised an eyebrow as he went back to drawing in the dirt.

“...My powers are just trouble,” he finished quietly.

Four couldn’t help his chuckle, and he leaned back against a pole as Sage gave him a pouty look.

“Why are you laughing?!”

“I’m not laughing at you, calm down,” Four assured. “It’s just that I thought the same thing sooooo many times.”

Sage looked baffled. “You thought your powers were trouble?”

“What?” Azure gasped from his swing, and Crimson jumped off, landing next to Four and Sage.

“No way!” he added, and Four nodded.

“They were, trust me. It’s not easy controlling four separate things, not to mention splitting into four pieces of yourself. Sometimes I think I’d just go crazy.”

Crimson tilted his head. “Did you?”

Four gave him a look. “No. Well, not really, anyway. No more than what would’ve happened otherwise.”

Azure hopped off his swing too, and sat next to his brothers, giving Four a curious look. Sage still seemed grumpy though, and guilty as well, and Four sighed and patted his knee.

“You’ll get better Sage, don’t worry. You just need to practice some more. It takes time for powers to donwhat you want, trust me.”

“But what if they just get worse?” Sage asked, biting his lip. “What if I do something bad with them without trying? What if I give somebody marks like... Daddy has?”

His voice got quiet at the end, and Four took his hand and squeezed it.

“Sage, I know you’d never do something like that,” he assured. “Accidents happen, but they’re just... accidents. You don’t mean for them to happen. And I don’t think you would ever accidentally give somebody marks like what your Dad has.”

That’s not something you do by accident, he thought with a brief grimace.

Four shook his head. “You just need to work on them a bit, Sage. I know you’ll start getting your powers more under control,” he said encouragingly, and Sage sighed.

“If you’re sure,” he said quietly, and Four nodded.

“Totally sure. If I can get the hang of four different powers in four pieces of myself, I bet you can handle lightning just fine.”

He poked Sage’s nose, and Sage smiled, finally starting to look better.

“Four! Are you done yet? It’s time to go!” Wild’s voice shouted from the front yard, and Four hummed and stood up.

“Looks like I’ve got to get going,” he said, and the triplets all let out awws.

“You just got here!” Azure complained.

“Do you gotta?” Crimson whined, and Four nodded.

“Yep. You know how cranky Wild gets when he’s late for things. But before we go, maybe you should say hi to him,” Four mentioned with a grin, and Crimson and Azure jumped to their feet and ran around to the front yard.

Four heard a yelp a few moments later that signaled Wild getting jumped on by cousins, and he chuckled before looking back at Sage.

“Have you apologized to Aryll for zapping her yet?” he asked, and Sage shifted awkwardly.

“...No.”

“Well that sounds like a good place to start for now,” Four said kindly. “I’ll try and come over again soon. Maybe I can help you with practicing your powers.”

“Really?” Sage said, perking up. “Thanks Four!”

He jumped up and hugged him, and Four patted his head, wishing he could do more for his little cousin. Maybe he should at least talk to Sky about some things...

“Four!” Wild called again, and Four drew back and stood up.

“C’mon, let’s go see Wild,” he said with a smile.

Sage returned it and took his hand, and the two of them walked around to the front yard, watching as Crimson and Azure both managed to pull Wild to the ground, squealing with laughter.

[miindfucked]

benedict bridgerton fic rec

nsfw fics are marked with🔞. all work has been credited to their respective authors.

It Had To Be You by @fayes-fics 

Summary: Modern AU romcom. A love story heavily inspired by When Harry Met Sally.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, (ongoing)

Whatever the Poets Say by @pagesfromthevoid 

Teaser: “What if I wanted to wait for you, Benedict?” She repeated, finally using his name. The way it felt on her tongue was almost sinful; but she loved it. “What if I am willing to walk to the ends of the earth and back, simply to see if you could love me?”

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen🔞, eighteen🔞, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two🔞, epilogue.

Foolish Endeavor by @murdockparker 

Summary: Benedict Bridgerton was certainly no fool. Bad at cards, sure, a bit taller than most, that was a given, but he was seldom called a fool. Though, one could argue that falling for your best friend was a foolish endeavor, indeed.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven🔞, (ongoing)

Somewhere Only We Know by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

From A Father To A Son by @thebabblingbrookenook 

Summary: Benedict has held his father’s words close to his heart for his entire life. The model of love that his parents provided set an uncompromising standard. All of the pieces to the puzzle didn’t fully align until he fell in love with you. Although his father is gone, Benedict gets to experience the love of his life through the lens of his father’s parting sage wisdom.

(Be)Longing by @fayes-fics 

Summary: Mutual rescue, mutual jealousy, longing and belonging.

This Is My Idea by @theship-thewalrus 

Summary: based on the song 'this is my idea' from The Swan Princess

This Book Is Dedicated To... by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. Benedict helps cure some writer's block.

to be loved and to be in love by @desertno3 

Summary: You had been best friends with Benedict for as long as you can remember, your relationship forged during the years your mothers were preoccupied with the youngest children and your fathers were busy instilling leadership qualities in the eldest children. It seemed to be a perfect match for a future marriage, or so everyone had thought. However, your first season had come and gone and Benedict had not been as active a participant as his mother had hoped he would be. You had left London betrothed to someone else and that was that. But news about your disastrous betrothal reaches Aubrey Hall in the spring. And it changes everything.

When The World Is Free by @fayes-fics

Sypnosis: It is late summer 1939, when you arrive in Paris from New York to begin a year of adventure. A deal struck with your parents to see a little of the world before settling down and marrying your ‘childhood sweetheart’ Stanley.

You soon find yourself with a spirited young English housemate Eloise, enjoying all that the cosmopolitan European city has to offer…. Until a few weeks later when war is declared. In this newly uncertain world, Eloise’s mother dispatches her brother to bring her home. Your plan is to board a ship back to America… but circumstances conspire to leave you possibly trapped in France with no way home. Eloise refuses to leave the country without you, even as you secretly grow attached to her beguiling brother, Benedict, who is everything Stanley is not.

There appears to be only one solution to your dilemma to ensure safe passage out of the country as invasion seems imminent…  but it will mean your life is forever changed, even when the world is free again.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, (ongoing)

Innuendo Bingo by @fayes-fics

Summary: Someone knows a LOT of stupid synonyms for orgasms…

Truth or Dare by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. A drunken game of Truth or Dare leads to an interesting development.

Rhythm by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. Filthy talking and dancing with Benedict.

All The Love (Under a Mistletoe) by @seasonsbloom 

Summary: modern!au. you have been in love with your best friend's older brother for years. on Christmas eve, things finally come to a head.

Summer Nights by @murdockparker 

Summary: Benedict was born to be a father, she was sure of it.

Waking Up by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. What is the best way to be woken up…?

In the Oven by @murdockparker 🔞

Summary: She was never all that good at baking, so perhaps a bit of assistance from her husband would be a sufficient help?

Inspiration by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Benedict just needs a little inspiration to complete his artwork.

Happy Birthday, Mr Bridgerton by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Benedict's wife gives him the best possible birthday gift.

Transitions by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU, friends to lovers, it’s very distracting when a Bridgerton becomes a triathlete…

Breaking and Fixing by @fayes-fics

Summary: Benedict’s wife likes to fix things (and break them).

Mine by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Benedict's wife gets lots of male attention at a party and he gets very jealous.

A Treat by @fayes-fics 🔞

Prompt: “don’t be shy; come sit on my face, love.”

Acting Up by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Your husband Benedict gives you a treat during a Bridgerton family dinner.

Sonnet #29 by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Your husband Benedict and you have a late night tryst in the billiards room of Bridgerton House.

Lightening & Lilies by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Simply put, greenhouse sex during a thunderstorm.

Tell me (all the ways you missed me) by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Having been apart for 3 weeks, you share an eventful carriage ride.

[orchideous-nox]

I love your stuff so much!! I was wondering if maybe you had some headcanons for some of the girls?? I'd love to hear them :3

Hi anon, thank you so much! This is so fun, I want to yap about the girls more often so I guess this is a good starting point!!!

Lily

I love Lily so much, since dying my hair ginger one of my favourite comments I get on tiktok is people saying I look like how they picture Lily which is the biggest compliment. I hc Lily as being bi and currently my favourite person to ship her with is Pandora but I have Chappell Roan related plans to write a one-shot of MaryLily. Lily's favourite flowers are daisies and angel's breath and you can find them in her hair during the summer. She loves to read either by the fire when it's cold or under a tree in the park in July. She's an omnivert and enjoys quiet study sessions with Remus where they don't have to talk but also is very happy to be dragged up to do karaoke with Mary and Marlene. Her favourite colour is sage green because it brings out her freckles and her favourite season is spring because she says "the air just smells different". Also plus-size Lily all the way!

Mary

Mary is a girl's girl. She is the one who teaches the younger students how to do their makeup and and is the chief hair braider. She has a diary the whole way through school and she writes all of her juiciest secrets in there because she knows all the gossip about everyone and keeps them all in the bottom of her trunk. Her favourite song would either be Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac or Does Your Mother Know by ABBA. She is the biggest flirt with everybody and the real Casanova of Gryffindor Tower. Her signature lip gloss is cherry scented and everyone is the group has had at least one kiss on the cheek from her which has left a pinky-red lip gloss mark there. If I was going to assign a fc for her it would be Rachel Chinouriri, I think she's so beautiful and the Mary vibes are just there.

Marlene

Marlene being from Manchester is so real for me. She grew up supporting Manchester United and went to the matches with her dad. She is the masc lesbian of my dreams (I saw someone who looked like her once and I might have fell a little bit in love) and they own the wolfcut. Marls can be sighted wearing a little top (baby tee/ tight crop top) and big pants (literally the baggiest jeans you have ever seen). When Chelsea Dagger by The Fratellis comes on, she is singing the loudest. Marlene never came out, everyone just knew they are gay and when they got their first girlfriend everyone just shrugged and was like "cool". Marlene uses she/they pronouns and will punch anyone in the dick if they are mean to her friends. She absolutely adores Dorcas and is like "my girlfriend" at any opportunity. You can catch Marlene dancing along to Seventeen Going Under by Sam Fender because "he just gets me", she she will insist he is the only man she could ever love just to annoy the Marauders boys.

Pandora

My Ravenclaw girliiieeee!! If you couldn't tell, Pandora has really grown on me recently and I am slowly working up to writing a fic where she is in the main ship. Pandora being a Ravenclaw like Luna is so important to me and I hc her as a Rosier and is Evan's twin when I write her, but not the way that people normally write them. Pandora is very adamant that she is her own person and there is more to her than being a twin. She loves her experiments which we know from canon, she would have loved watching How Its Made (the tv show), and was that kid who would take things apart to see how they work. She collects insects like butterflies, moths and beetles and keeps them in a display in her room and has pet stick insects that she loves to freak people out with. Pandora would LOVE Paris Paloma, she's vibing with Labour and Notre Dame and The Fruits. Although I said I love shipping Lily with Pandora, Xenophilius and Pandora (xenodora) have my heart, I love them, they are my favourite straight-presenting queer couple. I think they chose the surname Lovegood when they got married (I hc Xeno as a disowned Malfoy) which I know a few people hc. I could talk about Pandora forever but I will move on.

Dorcas

Last but not least, Dorcas! She's the kind of girl who calls everyone babydoll (Barty loves it). She's such an it-girl and would be the person you see on Instagram posing in front of the houses in Kensington with her iced coffee. Dorcas is taalllll and has legs for days, models should be glad she decided to stick to being the office siren. Her favourite hobbies are judgingly people watching in the window seat of coffee shops, and taming her girlfriend to stop them from trying to fight everyone who looks at the two of them funny. Everyone thinks Dorcas hates them at first (even Marlene who spend months thinking Dorcas was rebuffing her advances), but she just looks at everyone like that, she shows her love by being mean. Dorcas loves to listen to Rina Sawayama, her favourite song is STFU!

I'm just gonna stick with those 5 for now because they're the ones I write in my fics. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to yap about them!!! <3

[avxlyse]

Awash In Crimson Wine Chapter 2 - Agatha x Succubus!Rio

A/N HIII I wrote chapter 2 bcs I was bored and bcs I can!! Hope you enjoy :) lmk your thoughts!! I'm still getting everything together for this fic so i'm sry if any if this is incoherent, i'm just writing it for shiggles.

Chapter 2

The morning sun crept through the heavy curtains of Agatha’s room, casting the space in a dull amber light. She lay still in her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as the events of the previous night replayed in her mind. She could still feel the phantom touch of Rio’s hand on her skin, the mocking smile that refused to leave her thoughts. Despite herself, Agatha shuddered. It wasn’t just the heat of the encounter that unnerved her—it was how real it had felt.

Agatha Harknesshad lived for centuries, and with that the list of things that could catch her off guard slowly dwindled. But this? This was unlike anything she had ever summoned, or encountered. Succubi were dangerous enough in theory. In practice, they were disastrous.

She threw the covers off with a frustrated grunt and sat up, rubbing her temples. The dull ache in her thigh reminded her of the claw marks still etched into her skin, vivid proof that she wasn’t dreaming. With a quick glance, she confirmed they hadn’t healed. They were still as fresh as the moment Rio had raked her nails down Agatha’s leg.

"Of course," Agatha muttered under her breath. Her healing abilities had been significantly diminished since Wanda stripped her of most of her power, and it seemed the succubus had no intention of letting her forget it.

She stood, shrugging off her robe, and headed toward the small mirror by her dresser. Her reflection stared back at her, disheveled and haunted by sleeplessness. She could see it in her eyes—the nagging feeling that this was just the beginning of a far bigger mess than she had anticipated. She cursed under her breath and began gathering the tools she’d need to attempt a binding spell.

Rio Vidal wasn’t going to simply walk away. Agatha knew that much. Succubi weren’t known for their patience, and once summoned, they had a tendency to dig their claws in—literally and figuratively. But there were ways to contain them, to limit their influence. Agatha had just enough magic left to do that. At least, she hoped.

She lit a few candles on her desk and arranged a circle of protection, drawing sigils on the floor with white chalk. The room filled with the scent of sage and rosemary as she muttered ancient incantations, the words flowing from her lips like second nature. The ritual was complex, designed to keep Rio at a distance, to ensure she couldn’t invade Agatha’s dreams—or her waking life—without permission.

As she completed the final verse, the room grew still, the air thick with magic. Agatha exhaled, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. The binding was set.

“Not bad for a witch running on fumes,” she muttered, straightening up.

Before she could revel in her small victory, the candles flickered. Agatha froze. The room temperature rose  suddenly, and a voice—velvety, mocking—drifted from the shadows.

"Are you really trying to lock me out, darling?"

Agatha spun on her heel, eyes narrowing as Rio materialized from the dim light, her form graceful and unhurried, as though she had always been there, waiting. Her long, dark hair shimmered like molten ink, framing a face that radiated mischief. She wore a loose-fitting silk robe that clung to her curves in all the right places, exuding an effortless seduction that made Agatha’s pulse quicken against her will.

"I’m impressed," Rio continued, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of Agatha’s desk. "Even with your powers diminished, you’ve still got some fight left in you." She flashed a wicked grin. "But we both know this won’t hold me for long."

Agatha clenched her jaw, ignoring the wave of heat that stirred in her belly at Rio’s proximity. "You have no idea who you’re dealing with."

Rio raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? And what exactly are you going to do?" Her voice dripped with amusement as she leaned in close, her breath hot against Agatha’s ear. "You can’t resist me. You’ve already tasted what I can offer, haven’t you?"

Agatha shoved away, trying to put as much distance between the two them as possible. She hated how Rio’s presence seemed to unravel her control, inch by inch, with every teasing word. Her magic flared, a pulse of anger that briefly lit the room in a soft glow. But Rio only smiled wider, as if she was enjoying the show.

"Your little spell might keep me at bay for now," Rio purred, stepping back and surveying the chalk markings on the floor. "But you and I both know I’ll find a way around it. I always do."

Agatha’s fingers twitched, the urge to lash out with magic rising within her. But she knew better. She had to keep her composure. Succubi thrived on chaos, on raw emotion. If she let Rio feed on her frustration, her lust, her need for control—it would only strengthen her.

Instead, Agatha forced herself to breathe, to center herself. She folded her arms, narrowing her gaze at Rio.

"What do you want, Vidal?" she asked, voice low and dangerous. "You’ve had your fun. You’ve toyed with me. Now state your terms, or get the hell out."

Rio’s smile didn’t falter. In fact, it seemed to grow even more playful, as if she was pleased with Agatha’s directness.

"You summoned me, darling," she said, casually running her fingers through her hair as she paced about the room. "You called to me with that little ritual of yours, and now, I’m here. To serve you, to fulfill your deepest desires."

Agatha snorted, her eyes rolling. "I didn’t summon you to be my lapdog."

"Oh, I know," Rio said with a wink. "But that doesn’t change the fact that you need me."

Agatha took a step forward, her patience wearing thin. "I don’t need you. I can fix this on my own."

Rio tilted her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Oh, sweet Agatha. You’re powerful, yes, but even you can’t reclaim your magic alone. Not without help."

Agatha paused, her gaze flickering with doubt for just a moment. Rio saw it—sensed it—and moved in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I can make you strong again," Rio murmured. "Stronger than before. With me, you could take back everything Wanda took from you. And more."

Agatha’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her chest. It was a tempting offer, no doubt. To have her power back—all of it. To feel the weight of the magic coursing through her veins again, to command the world with a flick of her wrist. To never feel weak again.

But there was a cost. There always was.

"You think I don’t know your game?" Agatha’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze of desire. "You’re a parasite. You feed on power, on control. You want me desperate, dependent. And I won’t give you that satisfaction."

Rio’s expression shifted, her playful demeanor slipping just slightly. "I don’t need you desperate," she said, her voice softening, almost sincere. "I just need you to want it."

Agatha’s eyes hardened, the moment of temptation passing. She shook her head, stepping back and glaring at the succubus.

"Leave," she commanded, her voice cold. "I’ll deal with you on my own terms. Not yours."

Rio studied her for a moment, her gaze lingering on Agatha’s face, searching for something. Finally, she sighed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"As you wish, darling," she said, turning away with a graceful flick of her hair. "But you know where to find me when you change your mind."

And with that, Rio vanished, leaving the room colder and quieter than before.

Agatha stood in the silence, her mind racing. She had won this round—but she knew it wouldn’t be the last. The succubus was patient, and Agatha could feel the weight of her own desire gnawing at the edges of her control.

She would have to be careful, this was only the beginning.

Agatha stood still, the echo of Rio's final words lingering in the air like the scent of smoldering incense. Her room felt unnervingly empty now, and yet, the weight of the succubus's presence remained, pressing against her like a too-heavy cloak. She exhaled sharply, her pulse still racing. Rio’s offer hung in her mind, teasing, prodding at her insecurities, whispering promises of power she desperately craved.

She clenched her fists, the dull pain from the claw marks still burning on her thigh. Agatha Harkness, for centuries in control of herself and her power, felt more vulnerable now than she had in decades.

How had it come to this?

The words of Rio Vidal, smooth and seductive, replayed in her mind. "With me, you could take back everything Wanda took from you. And more."

The offer was clear: strength, magic—everything she had lost. Everything Wanda had stripped from her when she’d been left a hollowed-out version of herself. She had tried to suppress that yearning, that desperate need for power, but it was there. It had always been there, gnawing at her since the moment Westview had crumbled and she was left powerless, stranded in a reality where her once-great magic was little more than a flicker.

And now, Rio knew. The succubus could sense it as easily as a predator sniffing out blood. Agatha hated that, hated being read so easily. She felt exposed to the demon in every sense of the word. But she hated something else even more: the truth behind Rio’s words. Without Wanda’s interference, Agatha would never have been in this position. She had been on the verge of something great before it had all come crashing down.

The bitterness welled up inside her, pushing the ache in her thigh further from her mind. She didn’t need Rio. Not like this.

But she couldn't deny that the temptation lingered.

Shaking her head, Agatha paced the room, trying to clear the fog the succubus had left in her wake. Every step sent a reminder of the throbbing wounds still etched into her skin. That succubus had marked her—claimed her, almost. And Agatha wasn’t sure if it was out of possessiveness, amusement, or something deeper. Perhaps Rio saw something vulnerable in Agatha that she had buried even from herself.

Her vision blurred slightly as her focus drifted, thoughts swirling in her mind like a storm. She had survived too much, endured too many battles, to let a creature like Rio Vidal pull her down into a pit she couldn’t crawl out of. The succubus’s words were enticing, yes, but she knew the truth behind those seductive promises: it was a trap. Power always came at a cost, and Agatha had spent centuries paying that price.

She turned from the mirror, her steps resolute as she crossed back toward the circle of protection she had crafted on the floor. The sigils still glowed faintly, a reminder that her magic, while diminished, wasn’t entirely gone. She wasn’t powerless. Not yet.

With a deep breath, Agatha knelt and began to reinforce the spell, tracing over the chalk marks with careful precision. Her mind wandered as she worked, thinking back to Rio’s smile, the way the demon had so easily taunted her, pushed her to the brink of wanting. She would need to be stronger if she was going to resist Rio’s influence. Stronger and smarter. 

Finishing the last mark on the floor, Agatha stood and surveyed her work. The protection spell would hold—at least for now. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to keep Rio at bay forever. Succubi had a way of finding cracks in the strongest defenses, slipping through the smallest weaknesses.Her fingers twitched with the urge to summon more power, to strengthen her defenses further, but she knew that pushing her magic too hard would leave her more vulnerable. She needed to conserve what little she had left.

A small part of Agatha feared that if Rio returned, she wouldn’t be able to resist. You’re a parasite, Agatha had told her, her voice sharp, filled with certainty. You feed on power, on control. But the truth was, Agatha wasn’t so different. She had always craved power. And now with so little of it left, she was more vulnerable than ever to someone like Rio, someone like herself.

Agatha closed her eyes and exhaled, her mind steadying. She had faced worse than Rio Vidal in her long life. This was just another challenge, another obstacle. And she would handle it—on her own terms. But even as she stood there, preparing for whatever came next, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Rio’s eyes on her, watching her every move and waiting to strike at her weakest.

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

Her dream that night began like so many others, softly at first, with whispers of familiarity. Agatha found herself in an endless field of lavender, the wind brushing through the flowers in waves, carrying a sweet, intoxicating scent. It was peaceful—a momentary reprieve from the chaos of her waking life. But beneath the tranquility, there was an energy, a heat that simmered just out of sight, growing stronger with each breath she took.

Agatha moved through the lavender, her fingers grazing the tops of the flowers, but the farther she walked, the more the scene began to change. The air thickened, the sky dimmed, and a warmth spread through her body, not unpleasant but alarming in its intensity. She tried to shake off the feeling, to focus on the beauty of the field, but her mind betrayed her, drawing her toward the warmth instead of away from it.

The landscape blurred, the lavender wilting into darkness. Agatha felt her pulse quicken, her senses sharpen. And then, she saw her.

Rio Vidal emerged from the shadows like a flame licking the edges of Agatha’s subconscious. Her silhouette was illuminated by a low, flickering light, the curves of her body highlighted by the silken fabric that clung to her skin. The succubus’ eyes gleamed with mischief as she approached.

Agatha tried to pull back, tried to force herself awake, but her body refused to obey. The warmth that had been creeping over her flared into something more potent, more primal, as she felt Rio’s familiar tug.

“Dreaming of me, already?” Rio’s voice was a soft purr, rich with amusement. She circled Agatha slowly, her fingertips barely grazing the witch’s skin, sending sparks of sensation across her body.

Agatha shuddered as Rio’s touch moved lower, teasing at the edges of her awareness, blurring the lines between dream and reality. She felt herself leaning into the touch despite her resistance, her mind clouded with desire that she couldn’t control. Agatha’s throat went dry, and for a moment, she was trapped in Rio’s gaze, lost in her magnetic pull. The air around them thickened, charged with unspoken desire and the promise of something far more dangerous. Agatha opened her mouth to speak, to demand that Rio leave her dreams, but the words never came. Instead, Rio leaned in, her lips brushing Agatha’s just lightly enough to leave her wanting more. Agatha’s control slipped, her hands moving toward Rio’s waist as though they had a will of their own.

Before she could touch her, before she could give in completely, Agatha felt a sharp pain in her thigh—the same place where Rio had marked her the night before. The jolt snapped her back to herself, just as the dream began to unravel.

The lavender field vanished, the warmth faded, and Agatha awoke in a cold sweat, her heart hammering in her chest.

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

Agatha sat up, wiping the moisture from her forehead. The marks on her thigh were still there, vivid against her skin. More pressing, though, was the ache between her legs as she remembered the feeling of Rio’s lips against hers. She gritted her teeth, frustrated at how easily Rio could infiltrate her dreams, how helpless she felt against the succubus’s influence. With a groan she rolled out of bed and stood, forcing herself into her morning routine.

The rest of the day passed with a sort of strained calm. She spent hours poring over her ancient tomes, searching for anything that could help her regain her power—or at least keep Rio at bay. The candlelight flickered beside her as she turned the pages, her fingers trailing over spells she hadn’t used in centuries, some so old they had been forgotten by most witches. Nothing seemed useful, binding spells, protective charms, sigils for control—she’d tried them all. Agatha leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as a dull headache set in. Wanda had stripped her of so much, and without the Darkhold, she was grasping at the few remnants of magic she had left.

She needed more power. Real power. And Rio’s offer still lingered in her mind, tempting her with every passing minute.

“No,” Agatha muttered to herself, shaking her head as though to clear it. She couldn’t trust Rio. Whatever she was offering, there would be a price—one that Agatha wasn’t willing to pay.

She closed the book in front of her with a sigh and stood, stretching her stiff muscles. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the room in deep shadows. For the first time that day, Agatha allowed herself to relax, believing she had some respite from Rio’s influence. The succubus hadn’t shown up all day, and the wards around her home seemed to be holding. Maybe she had won a small victory, if only for now.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the temperature in the room rose. Agatha stiffened, her senses immediately on high alert. She turned, and there, in the corner of the room, Rio materialized from the darkness.

“You didn’t really think I’d stay away, did you?” Rio’s voice was as smooth as silk, her figure emerging with that same effortless grace. She smiled as she stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Agatha’s heart sank. Of course, it had been too easy.

“What do you want now?” Agatha growled, trying to mask the rush of heat that Rio’s presence always seemed to bring.

Rio chuckled softly, her fingers brushing over one of the books Agatha had left open. “Still searching for a way to regain your power, I see.” She glanced up, her smile widening. “You won’t find it in there, darling.”

Agatha crossed her arms, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from where Rio’s robe dipped at her chest and meet her gaze.  “And I suppose you know where I can find it?”

Rio took a step closer, her expression shifting from playful to serious. “I do, actually. But you won’t like the answer.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Rio’s eyes flickered with something darker, more intense. She leaned in, and whispered almost mockingly in a sing-song voice. “I can help you get your power back, Agatha. All of it. More than you’ve ever had before.”

Agatha’s pulse quickened, the temptation curling around her like a vice. She wanted it—God, she wanted it—but she couldn’t ignore the warning bells ringing in her mind.

“There’s a catch,” she said flatly, her tone guarded.

Rio’s smile returned, though it was softer this time, almost sympathetic. “Of course there is. But it’s nothing you can’t handle.” She reached out, brushing her long nails along Agatha’s arm in a gesture that sent a shiver down the witch’s spine. “All I need is your trust.”

Agatha stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “And why the hell should I trust you?”

Rio’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something dangerous. “I’m offering you exactly what you want, Agatha. Power. Control.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Agatha demanded, her voice rising in suspicion.

Rio’s smile widened, her gaze locking onto Agatha’s. “I get you.”

Agatha's breath caught in her chest, fear rising in the pit of her stomach. She recognized the look in Rio’s eyes, the hunger for someone who knows you have complete control over their desires. She had seen the look in Rio’s eyes reflected in her own many times before.

Rio stepped closer, her voice low and seductive. “Think about it, Agatha. You don’t have to make a decision right now. But the clock is ticking, and every day you wait, you lose more of yourself.”

Agatha stared at Rio, her mind torn between the danger of the offer and the overwhelming desire to be whole again. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

Rio leaned in ever so slightly, bringing her lips yet again to Agatha's ear. “I’ll be waiting,” she whispered, and planted a feather-light kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the shadows once more.

Agatha’s skin burned ever so slightly where Rio had kissed her, and as she raised her hand to her cheek she let out a soft groan. Pain was unfamiliar to her still, and the way it danced on her skin paired with the need for Rio’s touch sent electricity straight to her core. Agatha knew this torture was only the beginning, but already she could feel the frustration from Rio’s teasing touch being to take a toll on her body. The worst part was that she knew she couldn’t act on it. Leaning into the sexual desire brought on by the succubus only feeds its power, even if you aren’t reliving that desire through direct contact with the demon. She lets out a long, slow breath and decides what would be best now is to take a very long, very hot shower.

[isoobie]

moots and what they remind you of!

omg sorry this took so long 😢

@boyfhee / she reminds me of cats, bubble tea (even though she hates it), webtoons, kdramas, video calls, late night walks, shared playlists, making food together, baking, bsf tiktoks, sharing airpods, album unboxing, badminton, enoclock, heejay, mirror selfies, best friend dates, cute cafes & big fat HUGS

@weoris / she reminds me of cherry blossoms, spring, rain on a sunny day, ice creams, jungwon (of course 🤞🏻) & train rides !!!

@urszn / she reminds me of jelly 🫰🏻, dyed hair, field trips, sports day, filming funny tiktoks, mark lee n riki & curly haired guys

@voikiraz / mari reminds me of love hearts (the sweet), summer time, park sunghoon ur bf, the word pookie & funny reels

@hoonvrs / saint reminds me of coca cola, funny memes, relatable tiktoks, uncontrollable laughter, accidental voice calls (iykyk 🤞🏻) & HOON

@yeokii / hana reminds me of anyone but heeseung (jokes u remind me of hanni sm), the colour baby pink, angst fics 💔, discord, gaming, cheese corn dogs & floral perfume

@hysgf / mika reminds me of kiss of life, chaeryeong & heeseung, nude colours like beige grey n black, pinterest 👏🏻, black cats & madison beer

@okwonyo / jiji reminds me of mochi, pretty pink bows, compact mirrors, soft makeup, the colour pink <3, wonyoungism, pilates, wonyo & jake OF COURSE

@tyunni / may reminds me of skittles, riki obviously, yuqi + minnie, vintage cameras, sneaking out of lessons together 🙉 & theme park rides

@wonryllis / she reminds me of sweet drinks like milkshakes, halloween, late nights, tulips, the colour beige + purple, fantasy and historical webtoons, cyberpunk core, jungkook (your loml 🙈) & the city tokyo

@wvnkoi / seol reminds me of dancing competitions, fun days out, r&b rap music, mark lee n jaemin, the whole of zb1 n boys planet & the colour deep blue !!

@seongclb / kat reminds me of jayhoon SO MUCH, kdramas, big chunky black glasses, rap music, fluffy blankets 🤲🏻, teddy bears & an older sister!

@atrirose / seiu reminds of a pink girly, milkshakes, strawberries n cream, MINGYU, being a passenger princess 😾, barbie, banana bread & anything coquette !!!

@yenqa / yen reminds me of yunjin, nayeon + jay all combined into one, pretty nature, the colour lilac and sage, vanilla, bows, coquette fashion & stars

@100203s / chae reminds me of tall green plants, all the riize members, the colour green (a nice one like emerald) & wave to earth 🙈🙈

@jjunae / she reminds me of mocktails, summery fruits like watermelons and grapes, leehi the singer, yunjin n jongseob :D, cute decorative lamps & silly diy projects 🙌🏻

@bywons / sru reminds me of coffee, the colours light pink and light brown, seashells, quiet music, daffodils 🔥, JUNG WON (more than hee i think and maybe bc of ur user) & poetry

[peppershark]

WOLFER --- The real California history behind the Tomione Fic

Convict Lake Camp (OwensValleyHistory.com)

When I was a kid, my family frequently visited Bishop, California. I can still feel the light-headed enchantment of hopping out of the van at a relative's green, creek-watered ranch shadowed by towering granite faces of the High Sierras. The dusty road and sage-sharp aroma propelled my imagination two hundred years into the past.

Wolfer is set in 1890 Bishop Creek, and while some of the location names are changed to fit the story, the town really had ranching barons like the Sacred 28 families, churches which exerted certain levels of social power with the well-to-do folk, boarding houses for mill workers and on-farm worker housing for fruit pickers and cowboys--or perhaps the odd wolfer.

It's amazing what you can dig up when you're procrastinating working on your WIP, lol. I did a lot of initial research while writing a Gingerrose fic set in post Civil War Bishop Creek.

Here are some things I found.

Main Street, Bishop Creek 1880 (OwensValleyHistory.com)

In Chapter 1, Tom rides down Main Street to the marshal's office (played by a grudging Severus Snape) and runs into Hermione.

Way off into the upper right you can see the steeple of the First Baptist Church on Main Street.

East Line Street, Bishop Creek (OwensValleyHistory.com)

Tom chases Hermione to Line Street, where he pushes her up against the Brown's Machine Shed, which is of course re-named to fit Lavender Brown's family.

(OwensValleyHistory.com)

Check out that snow! Sitting at 4,000 feet of elevation in the foothills of the East Sierras, the snow can get quite voluminous.

W.D. Roberts Ranch, Round Valley (OwensValleyHistory.com)

The ranch near the dry saltbeds of Owens Lake where Draco visits Harry, (by way of Mad Eye Moody) might have looked like this.

Cerro Gordo photo taken some time between 1871 - 1879 (OwensValleyHistory.com

We get a brief glimpse of the Cerro Gordo silver mine when Draco and Harry ride off into the sunset together for a night of wild debauchery. The brothels and bawdy houses within these sprawling mining towns would have perhaps been some of the only public places for late 19th-century gays to be themselves. Miss Lola's was among the more famous, and I'm struggling to find the website where I originally learned this this but I believe she hosted queer sex workers and provided space for an early LGBTQ+ scene.

The silver mine itself brought together a richly diverse group of fortune seekers. I accessed California census documents and found that while Bishop Creek was mostly white, Cerro Gordo had a much more diverse population (interestingly all marked with 'I', even Latinx names).

I did a phone interview with the Inyo Historical Society and chatted for an hour with a local historian, telling him I was getting context for a novel. (He didn't need to know that my novel was also a fanfic, hahaha.) The historian told me the mine had Mexican, Black, Chinese, and Indigenous populations working as miners, teamsters (people who drive wagons), cooks, brick masons, farm laborers and all kinds of interesting jobs related to running the mine.

Main Street in Bishop Creek, 1878 (OwensValleyHistory.com

One thing that sticks out in my mind from the conversation with the historian is how the white and Mexican ranchers demolished the irrigation canals the Numuu Indigenous tribes had dug to create a green landscape in Owens Valley. Native Americans have been 'farming' America's landscape for thousands of years in a low-impact way. In Chapter 4, Tom muses on this detail as he's setting a wolf trap on Rosier's ranch.

Perhaps the most illuminating account of the region comes from Sarah Winnemucca, daughter of Chief Truckee (after whom the town is named). Sarah travelled as an advocate for Indigenous rights and cataloged her experience and the story of white settler colonization in her book, Life Among the Pauites: Their Wrongs and Claims which you can read for free here.

Thank you for diving into California history with me!

Read Wolfer here.