#folk tales about girls

[britneyshakespeare]

i read the first three acts of as you like it today

[enbyboiwonder]

This man is one of the many commoners who have come to Beorunna’s Well to help see to the various needs of the soldiers in camp.

On the second floor of the drinking house in Beorunna’s Well, there’s a sleeping commoner in one of the eastern rooms for whom a female model and female portrait is used, but who is described as a man in his bio. It’s likely a simple copy-paste error—there’s a sleeping woman in the second eastern room and a sleeping man each in the two northern rooms, and all four of their descriptions are identical save for “woman” replacing “man” for the commoner in the second east room—but the effect is that there’s a canon trans character in the game.

[swallowtail-ageha]

No fandom discourse could ever beat the fights you had in school between those who in the "vola la bomba sulla scuola" song believed that there was the verse "che sembra coca cola" and those who didnt

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 052 - Lovesick! Fae King! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, gaslighting(?), gore, body horror, blasphemy, BLOOD, the act of burning people alive, arson, yandere/lovesick Jinwoo au ]‼️

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Then Let This World Set Ablaze ] ¡! ❞

You really don't know how it happened, one day you were strolling blissfully in the forest behind your cottage and now you were suddenly acquainted with the fae king who was in charge of the underworld

In your world that was run by a bunch of swindling and bastard gods with their minions of divine creatures who praise even their most horrendous crimes; lives an eternal fae king of the dead who never wanes in power.

From the heavens, the lands, the seas and the afterlife— The Fae King of the undead was someone no one could touch. Not even the greater demons and the father of all creation could dare face this man.

Well, they did once upon a time.

And the world was plunged into eternal darkness with humans being shielded by the same king everyone had despised. Humans now realized that those they worship had little to no regard to them as they started a devastating ragnarok just for the sake of pride and royalty.

In the end? 80% of the gods who started the war fell beneath the fae lord's feet and reincarnated into ghastly undead soldiers made of shadowy wisps wicked beyond one could ever imagine.

Since then, Jinwoo had become someone the common folk and even demons worship. Does he care? No. He just wants to live his long and take care of his family in his kingdom where no one can get in or out.

Not even the 9th class mages could even locate where it is.

Maybe there are but never lived to tell the tale and probably suffering eternal punishment in his army of the undead where even gods aren't spared from.

Until you.

Yes, you.

Just a simple girl who lives out in the cottage living life as happily as she can away from the big city.

The foolish and small you who doesn't even have a pinch of divine power nor exceptional mana flowing within your blood.

Somehow, the same you who is nothing more than just one of the many soul the resides in this vast world— Stumbled upon the kingdom of the Fae King of the Eternal Night.

Word of tongue say this place would be barren and dry with rot here and there. The nauseating scent of death would flow here and there that it would lead you mad.

But all of those were lies.

Instead you had found youself in a tranquil land where all sorts of flowers glow beneath your feet as a guiding trail. When you followed the gentle lights that guided you in this ethereal land where the stars shine brighter than you've ever seen— You would find yourself in front of the same king that all beings fear and submit you.

Yet why is he so beautiful?

You should be afraid.

And yet you find yourself entranced by this man who brought the mightiest being of earth to their knees.

Cascading and silky long black locks that falls so prettily as if it's made from the finest of fine silk, loose and almost open black robes that seem to glimmer softly as if it's made with a blanket of stars, a face so sculpted so perfectly it's impossible to not say this man must have been a sculpture made with hands of a divine artists whose touch only brings perfection— And oh those eyes.

Those enchanting silver eyes of death that seem to pull you into an abyss you're willing to drown yourself into.

This divine being in front of you,... Is he truly the same man who has powers so great that he can eradicate all living being with a wave of his hand whenever he pleases?

You find yourself incapable to believe that, no way, this man is too beautiful for all that wickedness.

And so that was the day you have somehow stumbled upon the kingdom of the eternal night and earned the favor of it's benevolent ruler.

꒰ ... ꒱

Contrary to what the ancient texts and the priests say about Jinwoo's cold temperment— He's actually surprisingly decent and quite normal.

Maybe even more gentle than the local men of your village who are nothing more than burly men who only care about their muscles and beer and getting laid in the dead of night.

Jinwoo is extremely easy to talk to and seems to take pleasure in showing you around his kingdom which is full of life despite being a place where the personification of death presides in.

No, in fact, this place is far more beautiful than the major cities you have seen in your small lifespan as a living being.

His soldiers who are the most fiercest of all would turn into somewhat into a group of puppies the moment they see their master passing by. Of course, the undead creatures were skeptical of you at first but quickly grew warm as soon as they realized that their 'father' is quite fond of you.

A few of them are even asking if you could play with them— To which Jinwoo strictly says no to their dismay.

You really think nothing of all this, don't you?

After all, the fae king is treating you so warmly.

You really aren't thinking of it, don't you?

You foolish, naive child.

꒰ ... ꒱

Jinwoo had his eye on you for the longest time ever since you had moved into the meek village. You are nothing more than a puny and naive human who wants to live a good life and the village welcomed you.

You were given the abandoned cottage deep in the forest but not too far from the village, they even volunteered to repair the decrepit place to which you can't possibly thank them enough for.

Such generous humans for someone as sweet and cute as you.

Yes.

Cute.

An emotion that the fae king couldn't quite describe at first since he grew used to the absence of emotions because of his birth as the one who will succeed the late Ashborn as the new kingdom of the eternal night kingdom and the new monarch that will lead the army of the dead.

His duty? To uphold peace and make sure all living beings stay in their place and never go out of line.

Should they do so then it'll be immediate death as well as being added to the immortal army to prevent them from reincarnating and repeating the same mistakes.

He grew as a normal child of the elven kingdom. But as his powers grew— His emotions disappeared one by one until he is nothing more than that for a vessel of war.

Jinwoo is more than thankful enough for his beloved family who resides with him in the kingdom. He shaped this barren place for them to live in and do what they desire.

A medicinal lab for his little sister who studies healing magic, a garden for his mother to tend to any time, and a smithy for his father to busy himself to and craft weapons for fun, or maybe just his small way of helping his kind son who unfortunately has to carry the burden of the world on his shoulders.

Truly, he can't be thankful enough.

Even if he cannot feel the same level of affections he has for them the way he used to when he was but a small elven child who wished nothing more than protect and love them.

But then you came.

A fascinating and adorable human that he has a weird connection to.

He was drawn to you.

Jinwoo can never know where these foreign feelings stem from, all he knew is that he is completely entranced by you and you only.

What is it that he feels?

He wanted to watch you.

He wanted to imprison you.

He wanted to see you smile.

He wanted to see you cry miserably.

He wanted to ruin you.

But he also wanted to cherish you.

Jinwoo cant quite put a finger on it. Regardless, he was satsified on just watching you for now since he can't exactly interfere with anyone else's life since he wants to be left alone too.

But then you stumbled upon his kingdom by accident because one of his foolish children forgot to close the dimension that leads back to his domain.

He could punish them, but he decided against it since he is quite thankful of the unexpected arrangement.

He just has to tighten the security and indulge in you.

Jinwoo is aware that humans can express quite a lot since his sister is very much like that.

But you bewitch him in a way he cant really describe.

He loved to watch the way the flowers would dance and caress your gentle skin when the wind blows. He loved the way your clothes wrinkle around your perfect body that he just itched to hold. He loved to hear your sweet voice ringing in his ears when you ask him trivial and downright ridiculous questions just to satisfy your musings.

But he, the king of this land, was the fool that indulged in all your whims.

He can't really resist you, how could he?

Jinwoo has no will to fight whatever is stirring within him in the presence of the precious you.

It was to the point that he becomes extremely obsessed with you without him realizing, he wanted to know more.

Human curiosity is the reason why the species has thrived so far depsite being one of the lower life forms whose sole purpose is to play puppets for the pathetic beings higher than their measly mortal beings, right?

That means Jinwoo can also be curious too.

No matter how twisted it can be.

It should be fine.

꒰ ... ꒱

Oh how foolish can he be too, huh?

Your frequent trips to his kingdom resulted in the villagers rioting against you with the holy church charging you with meddling forbidden witchcraft.

Somehow those old bastards in the town managed to convince everyone that you are doing something heinous when in reality you were just accompanying Jinwoo on a daily basis.

And so they dragged you to the stakes, tied you on a pole and did their blasted rituals gaslighting themselves that what they're doing as it is for the world and the will of the lord that you die by fire.

"Ignite her," A booming, thundering voice ruptures through the maddeneds howls and cackles of the villagers and priests gathered around your sorry figure praying to whatever fucking god they believe in. "I dare you"

"You!" A bishop raises his finger at the stranger, his action full of vigor and pride. "How dare you interrupt this holy ceremony dedicated to our benevolent ghod Anakkhis?"

"Hah?" The heretic scoffs, finding the whole idea ridiculous. "You're talking about that god? That fool that wept at my feet for mercy? You have some thick skin for thinking that someone like me will cower over a measly insect like that?"

"You—" The bishop gasps, completely taken aback at how bold he was. "Restrain him! That filthy thing dares to speak blasphemy of the great one! Burn him alongside that wench!"

"That wench?" Jinwoo clicks his tongue, his eyes turning into an even stronger color of blazing purple as priests and ordinary humans charged at him. "You've given me more reason on why I should murder the lot of you. For daring to call my woman a wench and burning her for a sin that was never there."

With a snap of his fingers, head would explode one by one and the screams of onlookers would fill the air that was once filled with laughter and mirth.

Cold and unfeeling Purple eyes look straight at you, each step that he makes accompanied with the falling corpses.

You dare not look at Jinwoo's gaze, after all, the air is too suffocating. You can barely even take a full breath, everytime you try to it feels like your lungs will suffocate.

And the screams, god those tortured screams.

How dare you ever doubt that he is the absolute being that has put the world on a chokehold?

By the time the priests have realized who Jinwoo was, it was far too late now since he immediately had their heads bursting.

When he reached you, his blackened hand gently lifts your face to meet his maddened and cold gaze.

How is he still so hauntingly beautiful despite the blood splatters on his divine face?

How can wrath look so gorgeous and ethereal on someone like him?

You can see the vein popping on his jaw as he unfastened the ropes and picked you up, allowing your sorry form to weep on his shoulder.

"Please, stop it!' You beg, not wanting to hear more of the torturous screams. "I'll do anything, just please stop it"

"Anything?" Jinwoo tilts his head, musing at your sobbing.

"Anything." You choke up, holding tighter onto him to show your sincerity. "Please, please stop it"

"Then you shall be my wife" Jinwoo simply says as presses his lips on your pretty little head. "Humans have a saying ti'll death do us apart. But you have no need for that."

"After all, your husband is death itself."

He is both hell and heaven depending on which side you choose to take. He is the absolute being that brings everything to it's knees. The madman who has succesfully put the world into the palm of his hand.

The village that once welcomed you with warm and loving arms starts to disappear from the distance as it billows a cloud of smoke from cindering and brilliant violet flames that defies everything natural.

It was a warning to the gods and all other living beings

,... That the Fae King of the Eternal Night Kingdom, the Shadow Monarch of the Immortal Army— Is alive and well.

It is a way to announce that he still stands as the most powerful being with an omniscient view of this wretched earth and will return should they step out of line again.

May it be humans or their worshippers, no one will be spared from the bloodbath and carnage he will bring should his wrath ever be incurred.

And, you.

You, the foolish and naive child of the land—

Is the salvation that will prevent this world from dancing in violet flames so long as you remain in his hold. Forever captive to his obsession.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Whoever may i write for I will always return to my beloved Jinwoo heheh><!! I love him dearly and can never stop loving him try as I might xD!! Next fic are hsr men again so look forward to it. For now, a self-indulgent au is here that I will be making a bot for tomorrow too so heheh:3!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[beifong-brainrot]

One thing I love about tlok more as I age, is that it actively veers away from pitting women against each other.

While atla wasn't awful on this front, Toph and Katara's arguments often took on the flavour of Toph talking down to Katara for her percieved feminine qualities. Pairing this with Toph's insults towards male characters, specifically Aang, often having an emascualting "Don't be such a girl" type of vibe, it paints a good picture of Toph's strained relationship with femininity, and other girls, most likely due to her past, both in her family and in the ring. Katara and Toph's tale in Ba Sing Se was a nice step away from that rule, but the Runaway sorta circled back towards this argument. As much as Toph seems to secretly enjoy "feminine expression" she will still talk down to it in public.

But we can talk about Toph's internalised misogyny later. We see the phenomenon of women tearing each other down elsewhere in atla too, especially in the relations of the Fire Nation girls, like in how Mai and Azula lash out at Ty Lee in the Beach.

And I'm not saying it's bad that atla portrayed these interactions, they're a part of life and many of us are trained to talk down to other fem folks.

But it is so refreshing to see tlok subvert that trope in B1. For all the complaining about the love triangle, I really love the arc it gives Korra, who has probably barely interacted with girls her age.

When she first meets Asami, she's a little intimidated, but falls a little into that 'not like other girls' streak.

With Korra falling into more of a 'tomboy' category, similarly to Toph, it wouldn't be very unexpected for her to be portrayed with a more tumultuous relationship to femininity and people we percive as fitting into it better. This is something a lot of girl, women and fem folks go through irl.

Korra: [To Asami as she swims over to her; somewhat dismayed.] So, what do you have planned for us today? Let me guess, shopping, makeovers ...

We see that Korra has a set idea of what Asami is like based on her presentation and mannerisms, and doesn't think she can find a common language with her. But this expectation is quickly subverted when Korra and Asami race together and we see that they do get along very well.

And I like that Korra not only apologises for writing Asami off, but also attempts to partake in something feminine, makeup, showing that she's become more open to finding a 'common language' with girliness, something she previously saw as alien.

Korra: I gotta admit, I had you pegged wrong. I thought you were kind of ... prissy. [Raises hand; quickly.] Eh-No offense!

And throughout the show, although there is plenty of drama, Asami and Korra stay on relatively good terms, which is a relief. A lot of shows tend to stoke drama between its female leads, but Korra and Asami stay friendly, and more, throughout the show.

Korra: [Chuckles in relief.] Well, whatever happened with Mako, I'm glad it hasn't come between us. I've never had a girlfriend to hang out with and talk to before, except for Naga. This is nice.

And it's not just Korra and Asami's relationship that fosters an air of women supporting each other. Tlok shows us many women of different backgrounds helping each other become stronger, encouraging them to realise their potential, comforting each other in dark times and so forth. I also think it's nice to see so many older women who support and encourage younger women, as atla did not deliver on that front.

And I know it feels like such a low bar, but I think it's so important to highlight in shows, especially shows starring women and female characters.

[doberbutts]

"yeah but why's it always gotta be a black woman" because it should always be a black woman. Because black women are people. And because I personally think black women are better than you, I know it sucks to hear the truth but it was going to happen one way or the other.

Sorry a western isekai is significantly more interesting with a black woman from NYC thrown into a fantasy world than yet another white high schooler or college student. I am so dramatically much more interested in the overall dynamics of social exchange that will happen here than whatever will happen when Becky figures out she's in her favorite historical period except with dragons this time.

Sorry as a lover of folk stories and fairy tales you are never not going to get me to love a game based on southern black folk stories - my dad bought as many black folk story collection books as he could when I was a kid and I have never thanked him enough for it tbqh

Sorry a historical fantasy series featuring a real black figure who began as a slave and was noted to have been given rank and status well documented in history is going to be significantly more interesting to me than yet another fictionalized white savior

Sorry a story about coping with death and grief with such raw, gasping emotion and beautiful artwork to go along with it is improved by having the main character being a black girl and no I will not take critique in this opinion

Black people and especially black women make these stories better and I'm not sorry to say if you don't like it then that just means black people are better than you. The truth hurts but that doesn't make it less true

[evergone]

The Swordsman and the Singer

Zoro x Musician! Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff, familial bond with the Straw Hats, established relationship with Zoro, reader is referred to as a woman and with she/her pronouns.

Description: Zoro doesn't dance, but when the reader teases him with her voice he can't help himself.

“This music is too loud, you’re gonna get us caught,” Law murmurs as he notices the sun beginning to descend below the horizon, painting the sky a magnificent display of colour.

“We always do this. Get used to it,” says Zoro.

He takes a swig from his beer before placing it into his lap and leaning back against the wooden column behind him. The music is quite loud, but not so loud that he can’t hear your delighted laughter over the bass, so he’s willing to let it go. In the middle of the deck you’re spinning and twirling with Nami and Robin by your sides, each of you wearing ribbons from your sewing box on your wrists. His eye is trained on you and the way the ribbons circle around your body with such precision and skill that you look like some sort of wind deity.

“You don’t join in?” Law asks looking between Zoro and the women.

Zoro shakes his head, “I’m a swordsman, not a dancer.”

An amused breath leaves Law’s nose in such a way that it seems to say: Amen to that. There’s a beat between the music as Brook passes the guitar to Sanji and picks up his violin, and the two swordsman on their own listen as Brook coaxes Franky and Chopper over to a pair of hand drums.

“Are we doing that song?” You exclaim with a quick glance over to Zoro.

He sighs, defeated, but with the shadow of a smile on his lips, and then he raises his beer to you. The excitement bursts through your veins — he can see it in the sparkling e/c of your eyes, in the jump you do before turning back to the others and accepting a few bells that Robin threads onto your ribbons.

“What song?” There’s a confused frown on Law’s brow.

All he receives in response is silence, and it isn’t the least bit comforting.

The song begins with a soft drum beat, then Sanji joins in with the guitar, and finally Brook brings them all together with the violin in a beautiful introduction to a folk song that Law had never heard before. As the instruments rise in intensity, he expects to hear Brook’s voice open the song despite the rather high key, but he is pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice begin the vocals. You sing with a confidence Law has never seen from you before as you have always been quiet around him, and he turns to mention this to Zoro, but stops short upon seeing the look on his face.

Here is one of the biggest pirates in the world, a member of the worst generation, Roronoa Zoro, staring at you with a bright pink nose and slightly less pink — but still rosy — cheeks. His eye is lit up, not by the fairy lights creating the almost fantastical atmosphere aboard the Sunny, but by the absolutely unparalleled eloquence of your voice.

When Nami and Robin sing their part they harmonise so well that they sound like one being. It’s almost as beautiful as your part, the main part, but Zoro’s ears seem to shut off when you aren’t singing so that he can focus on widening his one good eye to get a better look at you dancing. You’re leaping in the air now, the music having complete control over your body as you flip and pirouette and perform all these other feats which every time amazed Zoro more than the last time he saw you do it.

As the pace of the song increases, Luffy and Usopp join the dance, weaving through the three of you girls with a skip in their step and the dance trained into their bodies. Zoro grunts slightly when Sanji stands up, seemingly an expert on the guitar now, and finds himself wrapped up in ribbon like a Maypole.

Nami and Robin are singing about how horrible an idea it is to love a sailor, trying to trap you in their ribbons, and all the while you’re ignoring them, telling your tale about running away from home and right into the arms of your sailor paramour. Zoro can’t help but feel like the song was written for the two of you, even though it’s at least three hundred years old. Every verse, every chorus, every word is a confession of love from you to him.

The instrumental begins and Brook plays this spectacular dance-y tune during which you place your hand on Luffy’s and the two of you perform a partnered céilí dance. He’s stumbling over his feet and laughing as he tries to justify himself to you while you loudly complain that he’s not practising enough (but you’re laughing, too, you can’t stop yourself from enjoying this moment).

And then the tempo slows and the instruments go quiet until the players have nearly stopped entirely. Oh! And here comes Zoro’s favourite part!

You run over to him, your ribbons flowing behind you like a cape and the bells jingling like you’re a fairy. Law is caught off-guard by your appearance in front of them, he pronounces your name and you giggle, telling him to stop being a loser and join in.

“I’m a swordsman and a doctor, not a dancer,” he claims.

You scoff and Zoro turns to Law with a lovestruck grin, his arms are wrapped up in your ribbons and his knees are on either side of your thighs. He’s lost to the music, he’s lost in you.

“I’m sure you know a dance or two,” Zoro says teasingly and elbows Law so hard that he trips right into Luffy’s outstretched arms and is pulled into the centre of what would look like a Bacchanal to any outsider.

“Are you being hospitable to our guest?” You ask Zoro once it’s just the two of you alone and before you’ll be beckoned to start singing again.

“You’re the one who called him a loser, woman,” he chuckles.

You laugh with him and bite your lip, “Are you gonna come dance with me?”

“How could I say no to that voice?”

The bridge erupts from your lungs to serenade Zoro as he stands up and allows himself to be taken by your siren song, dragged into the dance. The song ends with another instrumental, just as powerful as the last, and he escapes your ribbons to raise you up into the air, spinning you around as a prince would a princess. At the very end, you repeat the refrain half a dozen times, each time letting the song fade a little more until there is no more music left to sing or to dance to.

[thistle-wrote]

What about the boys with an alt girl though?

Cw: there are a few physical descriptions used for said alt girls in question but only when it was necessary.

Authors note: This is not self insert and as matter a of fact I’m not even sure why you brought it up! ㋛ She’s lying

F!reader X The CoD boys

Gaz: is dating a fully gothic woman, somewhere between romantic goth and traditional goth. Elvira meets morticia Addams. Not so much a tattoo kinda girl just red lipstick, floor length black dresses with bell sleeves and a corset. Gaz had been mildly afraid of her ever since he caught her talking to a ghost In their kitchen. He’s never noped out of a conversation quicker in his life. He likes to tell people she “speaks in riddles” ie she quotes Edgar Allan Poe sometimes. When they went on holiday he took her to the Cologne Cathedral because who wants to have a relaxing margarita on the beach when you can take your girlfriend to a 600 year old creepy building instead?

Soap: she’s not so much of an alternative girl as she is just a witch. The phrase “stop touching my altar” is probably the most commonly heard sentence in their house. Tattoos, funky hairstyles, hoards of jewelry, long flowing skirts are how just about everyone would describe her. She talks to the moon, Johnny doesn’t really understand why but he does ask “What did she say?” When his sweetheart comes back inside. She has slowly taught him the original folk tales and histories of every holiday, custom and tradition. Johnny has learned that deep down everything is spooky just like his girl. Halloween at their house is THE place to be.

Ghost: big scary man and his Kawaii girlfriend, a tale as old as time. The double takes people do when they go in public together are hilarious. She’s quite literally the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. Of course, their entire house is pastel pink which he really couldn’t care less about. His lovely woman does tend to edit pictures of him to fit her Instagram aesthetic though and he’s not too sure how he feels about the pink glitter filter She uses on every photo. The amount of her pretty pink clothes he’s turned into a mess because he simply doesn’t know how to do laundry correctly is outrageous. She’s had to learn the hard way that Simon just won’t wear the clothes she buys him if they’re pink, he will however take the pink Hello Kitty lunchbox she got him every single day to work.

Price: Similar to Ghost they get funny looks in public but only because what do you mean that heavily tattooed woman is his wife? There are very few parts of her body that aren’t covered, from her neck down to her feet. Kind of an artsy grungy style, overalls and Doc Martens are the usual. The real kicker of it all is how similar their taste in music is, divorced dad rock all the way, baby! That kind of music was made specifically for old men and pretty women with thick eyeliner. John damn near had a heart attack when she just went and got his name tattooed but she just has so many that she didn’t even think twice before getting it done. She’s the kind of girl that says things like “I want your leg bone when you die” with 100% sincerity, John is scared of very little, but the way she says that with a little bit of excitement in her eye is well… a little jarring.

CoD Masterlist

[rainrot4me]

Smoke And A Light

Summary: When you're forced to remain a resident of the Slendermansion, hearing tales of the outside world is riveting. So, when Clockwork brings back some souvenirs, you couldn't possibly pass them up.

Characters: Clockwork x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Jealousy, weed, smoking, sex while high, vaginal, oral, vaginal fingering, sex with toys, dildos, strap-on sex, teasing, new experiences

Words: 8.2k

“Was it really that fun?” You chirped.

Clockwork leaned against the counter of the kitchen island, boots kicking the side of the stool she perched on as she took another drink from her coffee mug. She wasn’t a resident of the mansion; she wasn’t a resident of any mansion as far as you knew. The dirty blonde called herself a ‘drifter’, always bouncing between towns and interstates with her Jeep, but never rooted in one place for too long. However, most of her closest acquaintances resided at the Slendermansion, so it just so happened to be where she spent most of her downtime.

“It was odd… but good?” She smiled awkwardly, tapping her knuckles against the ceramic mug nicely decorated with doodles Sally had made. She tugged at the sleeve of her white tank top, the fabric dirty and frail, but notably bringing out the brightness of her pupil. You were getting better about keeping contact with her right eye, subconsciously finding it rude to stare at the clockface nestled into her left socket.

Somehow, your conversation had dipped on Clockwork’s latest excursion to the south, farther into the Appalachian than you were familiar with. She talked about the nightlife music festivals in Tennessee and Alabama, the older folk songs they paired with raving strobe lights, and how it just worked. You could barely imagine it, but then again, you hadn’t really been in with society in quite some time.

As long as you had been living in the mansion, which had been quite some time now, Clockwork was always on the move. Much like Sally, you had been brought here very young and grown up around this atmosphere and losing track of how the rest of the world was going. You were in charge of minuscule tasks, wasting away behind these walls with random assignments Slender could throw at you. While you were forced to stay and help with missions assigned to the proxies, she got to roam wherever she wanted. To say you were jealous was an understatement. If there was a chance you were going to get to hear firsthand about the rest of the world, you were going to take it… no matter how much it tired her out.

“So, you just smoked some weird plant and everything started spinning? Was it scary?” You leaned forward, crowding Clockwork’s space and tilting your head, curious as ever. She just laughed, somehow never becoming annoyed with just how excitable you could get, always keeping that cool demeanor you admired so much. She leaned in, nudging her knuckles against your arm and rubbing the skin softly.

“Well, it was a little more than that, but, sure. I brought some back with me. Stuff’s pretty expensive though…” She huffed, gulping the rest of her coffee down and sliding the mug away. You followed as she stood from the counter, her one good eye trailing to look outside. You followed her gaze, groaning when you caught Toby and Jeff sitting on the front porch steps and chatting away. You knew of Clockwork’s history with the brunette, their on-again off-again relationship becoming a constant wall in your quality time with the girl before she inevitably left for the road once more.

You went to interject, to try and come up with another topic or question to stop her from going to talk to him, but you already heard your name being called. 

“[Y/N]! Come help with this, will ya?” Ben mosied from the hallway, looping into the mansion’s kitchen and catching you mid-interjection. He was holding some box of files and reports, surely incident records from the proxies you would need to take care of. You groaned as she shuffled to your side.

Clockwork was reaching for her Carhartt jacket, her hands reaching to brush her long hair out onto her shoulders while she turned back to you. The look of disappointment was evident, but she smiled sweetly anyway, inviting as ever. You didn’t want her to leave.

“Listen, I’m gonna chat with the guys for a little bit. Come find me later tonight. I’ll show you what we were talking about.” With that, she turned to the screen door and tugged it open, disappearing onto the porch and out of your eyesight as Ben nudged your attention back.

“What’s that about?” He smirked, static ringing with his words as you huffed, snagging the box from his arms and trailing down the hallway. “Nothing. Just help me with this.”

Ben floated down the hallway behind you, humming absentmindedly as you took one final glance back towards the window. Toby was already shoulder-to-shoulder with Clockwork, her laughs ringing into the house as you felt your time chipping away.

-

After a headachingly long splay of all the missing person’s reports and incident retellings, you finally sorted everything out and filed completely. Of course, Ben didn’t help a bit, more focused on his ability to play his Gameboy floating upside down than anything.

But you were finished. It was well into the evening now, the sun setting along the ridge of trees and rippling on the lake water nearby. You pressed through the screen door, no one was left on the front porch, but a very ominous thumping sound from somewhere in the distance. Your breath fogged in front of you, the chill of late Autumn slowly creeping on the mansion. You followed, trailing away from the porch and along to the side where the carport sat.

“Guys?” You called out, the thumping growing louder the further you trailed into the opening beside the mansion, searching for the source. EJ’s truck and Hoodie’s car parked in the ankle-tall grass, your steps cautious as you spotted Clockwork’s Jeep several feet away, the thumping becoming mostly clear. The vehicle was nestled between a lot of trees, brown and orange leaves blowing gently overhead. You noticed the headlights were on, and figures moving around behind the tinted glass. They were in there.

Jogging over to the vehicle, you recognized the thumping as the bass of songs cranked way too loud, the music blasting from the speakers inside. You rounded to the door behind the driver’s, knocking on the glass and waiting expectantly.

The door popped open, the music ringing clear as some Foo Fighters song. You also noted the way smoke faintly poured from the opening, blowing into your face as Clockwork popped her head out. “[Y/N]!” She smiled, her tone just a little more chipper than you were used to. She reached a hand out, clasping with yours and tugging you into the back seat of her Jeep along with the rest of the unseeming group. 

You crammed your way in, ducking into the back seat as you realized she had converted the interior of the vehicle for her travels. The backseats were laid down, a blowup mattress inflated into the truck as her bed, blankets and pillows littered around. Fairy lights and tealight candles strung from the ceiling, offering a nice ambiance as smoke clouded inside. It was cozy for one person, but with Toby and Jeff also laid out, it was a little cramped.

“Where’ve you been, angel?” You halted at the new nickname, smiling as you fully climbed inside. Clockwork shut the back door, leaning back into the pillows she had propped behind her and patting the space across from herself. You obliged, nestling into the opposite corner and nodding to the boys who were mid-conversation themselves. You noted their odd expressions, the laziness in their eyes, and the calmness that neither one of them usually sported. It was odd to see Jeff without a scowl on his face. 

“Sorry. Slender had me working on some cover-story stuff… boring.” You chuckled awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable sitting position in the closeness of everyone. It was then you noted the odd smell too, the sour stoutness of the smoke wafting in the Jeep, a scent you couldn't quite recognize. Clockwork smiled, “Sure sounds boring. It’ll be good for you to chill with us.” You nodded eagerly, the headache you had slowly dissipated with every inhale of the mysterious smoke. You noticed the way her good eye tinted red, bloodshot veins popping around the rim of her eye and making you cringe. Both Toby's and Jeff’s eyes were bloodshot too…

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen [Y/N] chill a day in her life…” Jeff smiled lazily, elbowing Toby who answered with a scratchy giggle. Clockwork kicked at them, rolling her eyes playfully as she tugged you closer to her side. “Well, she’s going to today. Ain’t that right?” You nodded as she laughed, leaning to grab something from the passenger seat.

Her backpack was full of clutter, her hand rummaging around until she grasped what she was looking for. She tugged out a glass mason jar, little rolled-up objects sliding around as she held it up, the boys hollering their excitement. You were confused, trying to see what they were as Clockwork unscrewed the top and shuffled one out, presenting it before you.

“Uhm… what is it…” You laughed shyly, Jeff leaning forward to snag it from your palms. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never smoked a blunt before…” He teased, Toby leaning forward to tug a lighter from his jacket pocket and offer it to the killer, the brunette practically sitting in his lap as he watched the flame smolder against the bud. You realized where the stout smell was coming from as smoke wafted from the blunt, the story Clockwork was telling you earlier in the day coming together. So this is what she smoked… That also meant this was very well their second or third blunt, no telling how high they all were or wanted to be.

Toby slipped the smoldering bud from Jeff’s fingers the minute to flipped the lighter closed, popping the end between his lips and taking a deep inhale. Jeff leaned close, pressing his cheek against the boy’s and tugging it into his own when Toby let go, inhaling the same. You studied them, taking note of how they went about smoking the plant to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself. 

You glanced to Clockwork, her own lighter sparking up as she popped a cigarette into her mouth, lighting the end. You nudged her, a questioning look on your face.

“Are you not going to?” You hesitated as she inhaled, puffing the smoke past her lips and in the boy’s direction with a smile. She shook her head, holding the cigarette between her fingers as smoke surrounded the two of you, encasing everyone in the vehicle as the music thumped from the speakers.

“Nah, I already got my fill. Gonna let these idiots enjoy it. It’s not often they get to smoke without Slender on their asses.” You glanced back to the boys carelessly lounging against each other as they passed the blunt back and forth, minds swirled with the sourness of the weed. You smiled, glancing back to Clockwork dishing out another and handing it to you, lighter flipped in the other hand. “Go ahead, try it.”

You nervously took the bud, fidgeting it between your fingers as she guided the end to your lips. You held the blunt there, Clockwork flipping her lighter on and pressing the flame to the end, the roll smoldering before you. It was hard not to note the way she stared at you as she helped you, two fingers slipped under your chin as you let yourself stare back. When she was satisfied, she flipped the lighter closed, tugging back into her comfortable position as smoke began to swirl around you.

“Now, inhale. Let it sit in your lungs for a second, then blow it back out.” Her voice was scratchy but soothing, the roughness of her usual demeanor nowhere to be found as you followed her instructions the best you could. You tried to remember how you watched the boys do it, breathing deep as the tip of the blunt lit up, soaking down into your lungs. You held it there, stalling your breath as it burned, throat tightening as you quickly exhaled back again. 

Smoke blew from your lips, and a fit of coughs soon followed as Clockwork patted your back. You sucked fresh air in, lungs burning from the weed as Jeff and Toby laughed obnoxiously across from you.

“Hey, that wasn’t bad! Not such a big inhale next time, okay?” Clockwork rubbed your shoulders, offering you a water bottle from the front seat of her Jeep as you finally caught your breath, sinking back into the pillows behind you. You let yourself take one more small hit, passing the blunt to an eager Toby who had no problem with finishing the rest. There was no telling what was enjoyable about that, or why the three of them were so excited, but you ruled that was enough for you.

Conversation bubbled, Clockwork quickly occupied Jeff and Toby’s muddled brains with her latest retellings of the concerts and festivals she had attended. You listened closely, wrapping a blanket around your crossed legs and smiling when the boys nudged their way beside you to get underneath as well, legs wrapping together as sour smoke and loud music filled your senses.

But eventually, it became muddled. Like the music was becoming distant or muffled, farther away than you remembered it being. 

Before you could dwell on it, sensations rose, odd feelings and reactions you found intriguing. Where the boy’s legs tangled with yours, they felt tingly, like you could feel every part of their skin that touched yours. The sensation was overwhelming, but not nearly as much as trying to focus on every word that poured from Clockwork’s mouth. Suddenly, she was speaking too fast, words slurring as you tried to blink the dizziness away. What in the world was happening..?

But it just felt so warm, so comfortable lying against Toby and Jeff, your arms wrapping around their shoulders as Clockwork began to laugh and say something about it finally hitting you. You just laughed too, you weren’t sure why, but just seeing her smile was enough to make you as well. The boys laughed too, a swirl of dizziness and warmth pooling across your face as you drank in the atmosphere. Was this what being high was like?

Clockwork began talking again, flicking the last of her cigarette into her ashtray and reaching for a water bottle, starting a new story again. You didn’t know what she was saying, but suddenly you really wanted to lay with her, to be beside her. You didn’t even realize your body was moving until she was wrapping her arms around you.

“Hi, angel.” She smiled, your head lying in her lap as she brushed the hair from your face. The sensation felt so tingly, your eyes fluttering closed as you listened to the slur of her words and the brush of her fingers against your skin. Everything just seemed so heightened, felt so good… You never wanted to leave this moment. Especially not with the girl you idolized so much right here with you.

She was just so cool. You found yourself in awe of just how strong and steady she seemed to always be, always knowing exactly what she wanted out of life. You couldn’t get enough. You craved to be like that.

“Y’all guh- gonna kiss, or wh- what…” Toby chuckled, elbowing Jeff who laughed just a little too loud. Clockwork visibly tensed above you, halting her fingers across your skin and eyeing the boy. “Toby.” Her voice was still playful, but the hint of seriousness didn’t go unnoticed. You watched her face, mind now racing with the idea and playing clear pictures in your mind. Do I want to kiss her..?

The thought had never passed you before, but then again, you had never been offered it before. To you, Clockwork was an idol, an ideal version of who you wished to be. You had never contemplated anything more… until now.

“Are we?” You slurred the words out before you could really stop them, leaning up onto your elbows as you watched her expression twist to confusion. Jeff and Toby’s laughter fell silent, watching intently as you held eye contact, trying to read whatever she was thinking. Music thumped, the tension of the silence making your eyes nervously flicker back and forth.

“Do you want to...?” Clockwork shrugged, shifting her sitting position to face you, her cheeks notability growing a shade darker than before. You paused, contemplating. There was no tinge of nervousness behind you, the false courage brought in by your high suprinsing even yourself as you nodded. Even when nervous, she still just looked so cool. 

The moments in between were quick, silent tension slowly fading as you both leaned forward. Was Clockwork even high? Were you even still high? You couldn’t think further as you felt her hands slide to rest against the sides of your face, your arms wrapping around her back as she pressed her lips against yours. You both gasped into the kiss, slowly tightening your grip against each other as the rest of the atmosphere faded. Your consciousness only registered this kiss, your eager but curious lips melting into hers as your mind flooded, dizziness and drowsy exhaustion tugging at your movements. This was really happening…

Clockwork tugged back before you wanted to be done, your head leaning to chase her kiss as you blinked your eyes open. You were both panting, her hands still cupped around your cheeks as she stared down at you, mentally registering what had just happened.

“That was hot.” Toby hummed, Jeff nodding along as they gripped the blanket tighter.

Clockwork groaned, letting off of you as she tugged the blanket and pillows from their arms, reaching to pop the back door of the Jeep open.

“Alright boys, shows over. Go to bed.” The night air flooded the vehicle, smoke swooping out into the wind as the two exasperatingly climbed out, mumbling their annoyance of wanting to see more. You sat back, combing over what had just happened and reaching for the water bottle you were handed earlier, nervously taking sips.

Clockwork shut the door, sighing as she leaned back into the pillows and swiped her hands over her face, groaning. You wanted to apologize, the haziness of the weed finally seeping its last wave over you as the tension bubbled, silence the only thing between you.

“I’m sorry…” You grit, picking at your fingers as Clockwork looks up at you, smiling. 

“For?” She was beginning to lean forward again, the nervousness you should've been feeling earlier finally rousing in your gut. At least, that’s what you thought it was. You weren’t expecting the tears to pool in your eyes and drip down your cheeks. And you definitely weren’t expecting the words to bubble out so suddenly.

“I’m sorry for kissing you in front of Toby…” You hiccuped, swiping the tears from your eyes as more pooled, Clockwork immediately pressing towards you. “I know you two are… are a thing… I’m sorry…” Evidently, your high had not worn off.

“Angel…” Clockwork shushed you, reaching to wipe the tears from your eyes and brush the stray hairs from your face. She cupped your cheeks to look at her, concern lacing her expression as you tried to stop your whining. “What are you talking about..?” She laughed awkwardly.

You leaned into her touch, trying to gauge her tone as you took deep breaths. “Like, aren’t you and Toby dating… I’m sorry…” The tears welled again, but rough fingers were quick to swipe them away. “[Y/N], Toby and I haven’t been together in a long time.” 

You watched her face for any sign of a joke, shaky breaths steadying out when you couldn’t find any. She just smiled that same sympathetic smile she always gave you, your cheeks heating up again. You reached to cup her hands on your cheeks, making sure she wouldn’t pull away. “Really?”

“Really.”

You both sat in the silence, your head spinning from the exhaustion of your crying, but Clockwork was sure to let you lean on her. She tugged you close, leaning back into the pillows and scooping your head to lay next to hers. She reached back to grip the dial of the radio and turn the music down, a soft thump ringing as the fairy lights twinkled overhead. You just now noticed how mesmerizing they were, only breaking your trance when you felt the same rough fingers tracing your cheekbones.

You glanced beside you, Clockwork’s face suddenly a lot closer than you remembered it being. “Why’re you so worried about me and Toby?” She teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You had always known Clockwork was a strong girl. Not just mentally, but physically. Being this close, you could see every indent of muscle on her shoulders and arms, her bicep tensing as she leaned closer to you. It was mesmerizing the way you suddenly realized her stature swallowed you whole. Not to mention the way her abs teased from the way her tank top rode up her abdomen.

“[Y/N]…” Clockwork cooed. Shit, you were staring. You shook your head, forcing your eyes to meet with hers again.

“I wasn’t worried… I’m not- Just-” 

“Worried enough to cry… but kiss me anyway?”

She was throwing you for a loop now, probing your hazy brain for an answer you didn’t know she wanted. You groaned, clasping your hands over your face and trying to shrivel away. “I don’t know…”

“Well, maybe we need to find out, then.” You peeked from behind your fingers, Clockwork’s smug expression filling your vision as she tugged your hands down, wrapping her fingers with your own. You were tense, unsure how to move or what to say, but trying your best not to make a further fool of yourself.

Jealousy, idolization, a crush…? You wanted to contemplate it, you wanted to talk it over so there wasn’t any room for awkwardness. You waited desperately for the days she would come and visit, buying your time with every second she stayed until inevitably left you behind again. It wasn’t her fault, she was living her life.

But what if you wanted that life too…?

What if…

Soon your vision was invaded by her, rough hands cupping the sides of your cheeks to draw you closer as your lips pressed firm. You gasped into the kiss, tilting your head to sink further into her grasp as you wrapped your arms behind her back. Nails dug into the fabric of her tank top, stretching the cloth and pushing her closer to you, lips swiping across the other.

Clockwork was groaning, the remaining dizziness of the weed swirling overhead and seeping into every touch she gave you. It was intoxicating. You felt like you couldn’t get close enough, like no matter how close you pulled her she was still too far away. You let your tongue slip past her lips, false courage giving you a boost.

The dirty blonde obliged, letting her tongue swirl with yours as she trailed her hands down to your sides. She hooked her fingers into the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you up off of your knees.

“C’mere…” She grumbled against your kisses, pulling you to swing your leg over her thighs and straddle her hips. You sunk back into her, wrapping your arms around her neck and gliding your tongue along the warmth of her mouth. You couldn’t get enough, drinking in her smell and her taste, suffocating in it. It was almost better than getting high. Wait-

You pushed back off of her shoulders, disconnecting your mouths and leaving you both itching for more. 

“Wait. This is wrong. We’re both high, and you’re definitely going to regret this and I-” The words jumbled out quickly, Clockwork knotting her brow as she clamped a palm over your puffy lips to silence your panic.

“[Y/N], I’m not high. Maybe a little sleepy, but definitely not high.”

You still kept her back, elbows braced as you forced yourself not to stare at her lips. “So… you want to kiss me? You’re not just doing it 'cause you’re high?” Clockwork was laughing again, letting her fingers rub against your hips as you waited patiently for her answer, unsure why she was finding it so funny.

“I told you, I’m not high. Besides, why do you think I keep coming to see you if I don’t like you enough to kiss you?” Your thoughts were mush, pieces not connecting the way they should’ve been. Maybe you weren’t as sober as you thought… but at least she was there to take care of you.

You did catch the way she smiled though, brushing the hair off of your face and rubbing at your sides. And the way she said she liked you.

“Do you… like-like me? Or just friend-like me…?” 

“Just kiss me, [Y/N].”

Your back was being pushed into the blow-up mattress as Clockwork’s lips pressed against yours again. You melted again, brain entering that fuzzy state where the only thing you could register was how good you felt. She towered over you, your eyes peeking open to catch glances of the way her shoulder muscles strained above you, or the way her biceps flexed when she scooped your leg to wrap around her waist. You clung on, surprised at the sensation when she pressed her hips down, friction rutting against the crotch of your jeans.

“Ah- Jeez-” You whined when her lips dipped further along your jaw, wet kisses planted along your neck and collarbones. She was a lot more eager than before, hunger sweeping over you both as you let your hands tangle into her shaggy hair. Every press of her lips or grip of her hands was doubled in sensation, tingles and chills sweeping through your body and writhing for more. “Feels good…”

Clockwork nibbled at your shoulders, tugging the collar of your shirt aside to suck on the bare skin. She smiled at your whines, grinding her hips lower to bump the stretch of your jeans against your clit. The sensation made your back shoot off the mattress, fingers digging into her shoulders to stabilize yourself.

“Again- Do that again-” You whined out, wrapping your legs around her waist to roll your hips, searching for that same sensation. Clockwork obliged, her hands planted on either side of your head as she raised up to carefully angle her hips against yours.

She rolled them down, the crotch of her jeans roughly gliding on yours and bumping your clothed clits together. You moaned, hands wrapping around her shoulders as you watched, trying your best to meet her every movement and catch that feeling. You whined when she stopped, pouting your lip before you felt warm hands slinking up into your shirt.

“Been waiting on you to fess up for a long time now, angel. It was pretty hard trying to act like I couldn’t tell you were obsessed with me.” She spoke between kisses on your cheek, tugging your back off the mattress to slide your shirt over your head and to the side. “Hard to not miss you, too.” You leaned into her touches, chasing the warmth as her words muddled your thoughts. You couldn’t get enough of looking at her, the fairy lights overhead blinding you slightly, but Clockwork’s frame covering you soothingly.

“Keep doin’ that thing-” You smiled, pushing your hips up in a desperate attempt to create that wonderful sensation again, your clit already throbbing. The dirty blonde grinned above you, leaning back onto her knees to slide her tank top off, her sports bra contorting against her strong build in the most mouth-watering way. “Anything for you, angel.”

Your jeans were being unbuttoned as you reached for her again, tugging her close to steal quick kisses as she worked on tugging your pants down your thighs. Your heart was beating so fast, excitement pumping through to your fingertips when she finally tugged the fabric off of your ankles. Despite the cramped backseat of the Jeep, you felt so free, so comfortable to hold and touch the girl you idolized so dearly. And she was touching you, and you couldn’t get enough.

Clockwork tugged her own jeans off of her legs, sliding the stray clothes to the side as she readjusted her boxer briefs. Jesus, even the underwear she wore was cool. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of her belly button piercing, the small silver ball complimenting her toned stomach wonderfully. She tugged your hips over hers, kneeling between your spread legs as she slid her hands across your excited body. Every touch was electrifying, goosebumps rising wherever her fingernails scraped your skin.

You waited expectantly, trying your best not to seem restless as Clockwork leaned back to grab the glass mason jar from the front seat. You watched cautiously as she fished another blunt out, eyeing you carefully while she popped the roll between her lips and reached for her lighter in the back pocket of her jeans. Once again the sour smell of weed filled your senses, mind already swaying as Clockwork inhaled deeply before leaning back down over you.

Grabbing your jaw, she pressed your lips open with her thumb and steadied herself back into a kiss. You sighed as she pressed firm against you, taking a long exhale into your kiss and passing the smoke into your lungs. You tried your best to inhale, breathing deeply as the sour taste wafted through your windpipe. There was no helping when you began to cough, though.

“Easy… deep breathes…” She cooed, leaning back to take another hit off of the blunt before flicking ashes into the nearby ashtray. Clockwork handled you so carefully, making sure you didn’t get choked as you exhaled, blowing the smoke up into the air. “Atta’ girl…” She smiled, passing the bud between your fingertips as she began to slink down your abdomen.

“I thought you weren’t getting high-” You awkwardly shifted with her, spreading your legs to fit around her shoulders. 

“Changed my mind. You’re gonna wanna feel this too…” She pushed your hand back to your mouth, beckoning you to take another hit of the smoldering plant. You did, not ignoring the way Clockwork’s cheeks darkened as you blew the smoke in her direction, smiling coyly. “Feel what?”

The familiar haziness fogging your brain was coming back, senses heightening slowly as Clockwork slipped your panties down your thighs and with the rest of the discarded clothes. You stalled, body burning up as she kissed along your hips and thighs, pecking at the skin just close enough to make you squirm. “Cumming when you’re high is heavenly. I think you ‘oughta try it out…” 

She kissed right on the puffy lips of your cunt, drawing her hands between your thighs to spread them further. You shuddered, heavy eyes watching as Clockwork stared up at you, her one good eye already becoming bloodshot. Her tongue takes a long, achingly good stripe between your folds, soaking up your dripping arousal as you gasp, stomach clenching. “Mmn- So wet already…”

Your knees jerked as she flicked her tongue across your clit, letting your head fall back into the mattress with a groan. “F- Fuck…” It all felt so tingly, so electrifying as she dove her tongue between your puffy lips again. Your high was setting in again, the feeling of her tongue slowly pushing past the tight muscle of your entrance enhanced to feel so nauseatingly good. She was drinking every inch of you up.

“Feel good, angel? You taste amazing…” She mumbled against you, running her tongue to lap up your juices before centering on your clit again. You whined when she sucked the nub, static shooting through your abdomen and arching your back off of the makeshift bed. “Y- Yeah-” You give such a harsh pull on her soft strands, it has her leering up at you with a dragged-out groan. “Need more- Ah!”

Clockwork answers with a stout suck on your clit, delving deeper to press her tongue inside your gummy cunt once again. Your fingers of your free hand grip her hair tightly, stuttering your hips to get her deeper- closer- You almost scream out when you feel a thumb press onto your aching nub.

You’re writhing, barely able to hold the blunt in your opposite hand from how much your body is aching for release. Every movement of her tongue and fingers is sending you reeling, gasping for air as pulses of arousal reach every nerve ending. “You’re so close, pretty girl. Come on, come on-”

A rough pass of her thumb back and forth across your clit has you straining, cunt clenching down so intensely you dig your head into the plushness of the mattress. It feels like you’ve exploded, cunt twitching and aching so good you can barely see the fairy lights overhead. Clockwork rides you through, leaving her arousal-soaked tongue inside to lap up every inch of your crumbling ecstasy. She’s pushing back, practically moaning at how tight you’re tugging her hair.

The pounding in your head subsided when she finally let off, pressing her fingers to spread your soaked lips and view just how aroused you were. You were practically dripping. It was so violent - so dragged out, like no orgasm you’ve ever had before. She snatched the blunt from your wobbly fingers, popping the end between her lips and taking a hearty drag before handing it back to you.

Clockwork’s above you again, panting desperately as she clasps down on your neck, breathing deep as she leaves chaste kisses and bites along the stretch of skin. “Look so pretty when you cum, y’know?” You’re dizzy, legs spread around her hips and hands wrapping around her shoulder blades to claw for more. “Wanna help- Need- need you to-”

“No. Gotta show you all the best feelings, alright?” She sounded so much more intense, so in charge, as she pushed off of you. Being high made you hazy and aloof, but it made Clockwork rough and dominant. There was no fighting her intentions as you tried to calm your still-dizzy aftershock. She moved so hungrily, so eager to please.

Her hands were in her bag again, pushing junk around until she hauled out a smaller baggie, the drawstrings cinched. “Got this a bit ago- You’re gonna love it.”

You nearly cried when she tugged out a thick, realistic-shaped dildo. You sat up, nervousness ticking through your body as you watched her fish for something else in the bag too.

“Wanna try?”

You were nodding before you even realized it, Clockwork fishing a small bottle of lube from the bag and discarding the rest, something else clearly inside. You let her hands push you back against the mattress, prying her hands between your tired thighs and massaging your sensitive skin. You took another hit of the blunt, the sourness soaking in and calming your chattering nerves before you tossed the smoldering roll onto the ashtray.

But they started right back up again when Clockwork reached to unclasp your bra, pulling the fabric off of your tits and instantly latching onto your nipples. You whined, tangling fingers into her hair and tugging her up, pulling her to your stuttering lips. “Wanna feel it-”

Clockwork smiled her eagerness as she leaned off of you, tugging her own bra over her head and reaching for the dildo again. You gaped at her, the pure eagerness she held as you heard the lube bottle cap pop open, Clockwork careful not to drip any as she let the liquid trail down the erotic toy. You tried to keep your breathing steady, watching carefully as she moved the bottle from the toy over to your whiny cunt, letting the liquid droop down between your folds. You gasped, the cold feeling making chills spread as she leaned close again. “Can’t wait to taste you on this thing…” She sneered, kissing the tip of the toy so teasingly you shuddered. 

“Please-” Clockwork’s sharp canines tugged at your bottom lip, you moaning into the messy clash of the kiss as you felt the cold silicone slap gently against your folds. “Please- fuck m’burning up-” You choke, angling your hips to try and press the head inside. There was nothing you wanted more, cunt clinging and crying for stimuli again until Clockwork was laughing against you. “So whiny…” She nicked a kiss against your shoulder.

You glanced down through heavy eyelids, the dildo sitting so heavily sandwiched between your swollen folds and just teasing to be slid inside. The silicone glistened with the lube, your lips pouting when you angled your hips further to slide inside, only for Clockwork to tug it back. You whined, her kisses along your neck halting as she breathed against your ear. “Easy, pretty girl, let me handle it.”

She was pushing your back up, sliding behind you, and tugging you into her lap, her strong arms wrapping around your torso. “Lay back, angel… Spread your legs for me…” She was coaxing your every move, pulling your knees back to angle the toy at your willing cunt. You were practically vibrating, arms reaching back to grasp onto her shoulders as she began to push.

“Yes-” Before Clockwork could tease you anymore, she was giving a slow, nauseating slide into your cunt. And then you couldn’t breathe- you couldn’t manage anything but a desperate moan. Pressing your shoulders back into her chest, she let the slick toy stretch you open. The push against your entrance had you mewling, senses heightened to a dangerous degree as your head pounded between your ears. The girth slid in, pressing against your velvety walls and finding your arousal clamping down. “Oh-” Clockwork’s gasping when she finally got the hilt of the toy to slap against your folds, bottoming out inside of you and leaving your head spinning. You felt so full, so incredibly stretched. It wasn’t like normal, your high was making it feel like every twitch of your cunt could wrack your body.

You tried to glance back at her, your heavy eyelids making your vision blurry as she began to move, her arm straining to tug the toy from the tight ring of your entrance and push it back in. “There we go… Feel it out…” She nibbled against your earlobe, wet kisses soaking into your skin as sweat beaded on your forehead, your body aching. The push was numbing, every jostle of the toy in and out leaving you strained for more, body pleading to go faster.

“Wanna- Wanna feel you-” Your nails were digging into her shoulders, hips stuttering to plow deeper, Clockwork driving her arm as fast as she could. “Fuck- Alright, alright-”

She gave one last drive of the toy, gripping your hand to reach down and hold it there as she slid out from behind you, laying you down. You whined, confused and desperate to have her back on you again, beginning to lean up until you saw her reach for the baggie again.

“Hold on, angel. Keep stretchin’ yourself, alright?” She looked so hazy, her cheeks dark and eye bloodshot as you obliged, leaning back on your elbow to slowly tug the toy in and out. You felt so light now, dizzily fucking yourself as Clockwork tugged what looked like a belt out of the baggie, your confusion evident.

She unclipped the straps, tugging her boxer briefs down and strapping it around her muscled thighs. You halted your movements, leaning up to watch as she snugged the fabric around, positioning it how she needed it as she reached for the toy between your thighs.

“Lay back…” She coaxed as she slotted the toy into the holster in the fabric, snugging it down to look like she was sporting her own cock. You smiled, suddenly finding the sight very funny as you leaned forward, resting your hands on her shoulders.

Clockwork sat back into the pillows, confusion striking her features and she stroked the toy, her intentions set on fucking you. You couldn’t help but want more though, turning around to lean back, the toy sliding between your thighs as you sat back on her lap. “Fuck…” Clockwork groaned, hands gripping your hips to tug you back.

You gripped the toy, your cunt throbbing as you pushed the head against your entrance, sitting back to let it slide in the same aching way as before. “Ah-” Your knees dug into the mattress, hands resting atop Clockwork’s as the silicone spread your entrance, the familiar stretch making you smile. Your jaw went slack, puffy lips holding open as your ass pressed back against strong hips. You tried not to stutter as you felt the hilt again, Clockwork huffing her arousal behind you.

“Looks so good, angel. Fuck my cock, just like that…” She smiled, leaning forward to nip your shoulder again, chills filling you. You were bouncing back, hips bumping with electric slaps as you rode back on the dildo. It was reaching deeper now, every inch schlicking further than before as you fucked your fack onto the length. You felt so dizzy, so cockdrunk as Clockwork groaned into your shoulder, moaning every time you did.

A snap of your hips told you she was feeling it too, the toy hilt grinding down onto her clit with every slap back, practically fucking you both. You let your jaw go slack, reaching back to wrap your fingers around the straps on her thighs, tugging them closer. Clockwork followed, snapping her hips to push into you every time you sat back, meeting your thrusts. 

“Sh-Shit-” You felt your gummy walls clamping, straining to keep the toy as deep inside as she could fuck into you, arching your back sinfully to get it deeper.

Clockwork’s moan made you flinch, her forehead falling against your shoulder as she reached around, pushing your ass off abruptly as she fiddled with the base of the dildo. You were confused, impatient tinges of your hips making her giggle. You were about to push her hand out of the way, upset by the lack of movement until you heard the small click of a dial.

Your chest tightened, the clamp in your abdomen knotting as you felt the loud vibration knocking against your g-spot. Clockwork moaned out, a cut-off gasp making your eyes roll as she began to fuck into you again, the rumbling toy lodging itself inside.

You suddenly couldn’t keep your composure, your knees sliding out as you fell chest-first into the plush mattress, Clockwork gripping your hips to follow you down.

“Push back- There you go…” She was huffing as you arched your back, her hands pressing down on your shoulders to keep your face smashed into the fabric, sweat beading and dripping off of your skin. You’re gasping at the feeling of your toe-curling high, shots of pure pleasure running through your body as she snaps her hips into yours. Muffled moans and desperate claws against bare skin are the only things you can register, the absolute abusing stretch of the toy inside of your plush walls making you reel.

“Thought you could take it, huh? Wanted it so bad.” She was teasing you now, venom and arousal dripping from her every word, her quick pants loud behind you. “Hah-” Your back arches up sluttily into her as her rough cockhead was grazing so perfectly against your g-spot, her thrusts picking up pace. She was feeling it, you could tell by the way every time you felt the hilt on your puffy lips she was cracking out a moan too. The vibration was wrecking you both.

“Feels so good…” You’re mewling, reaching back to grip onto those straps again as she claws into your shoulders. You hold her legs there, not letting her thrust anymore as you begin to grind back, spine arching as far as you can get it.

The vibration of the toy is puffy on her clit, the hilt rumbling against the nub and making Clockwork choke out curses. You let the head press deep, stretching against taught muscles inside and ruling you over. 

Convulsing over and over under her firm press, you can feel your orgasm clamping down on your abdomen again. “Feels so good- m’cumming m’cumming ah-” You’re choking out, hips stuttering back to grind against the girth. Clockwork’s snarling, taking deep breaths as she ruts her hips too, chasing the same feeling.

You’re dizzy, the pure wave after wave of arousal crashing into your body like a weight, your eyes rolling so far into your head you can barely see. Your cunt clenches, pulsing around the toy that's still rumbling inside of you to milk out every last round of your orgasm. Clockwork is shaking above you, hips jerking and thighs shaking as you hold her close by the straps, her body weight cascading on top of yours. “Christ-”

Your hips let out, falling flat against the mattress as she lays on top, breathing through her wilting shock until she's able to pull out, snapping the clasps undone and tossing the toy to the side. 

You’re both panting, cunts swelled and aching from exhaustion as you cling together, sweaty bodies sticking close. It’s all you can do not to fall asleep right then, the overexertion of your still-high mind making everything seem so fuzzy. The sour smell still surrounded you, the thumping of the music inside the Jeep slowly coming back as you settle your nerves. 

“Can’t- Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that-” Clockwork pants out, her nose finding its way to the crook of your neck and taking deep inhales. You were ecstatic, body too tired to show it but mind running a mile a minute. “I’m just upset it took me getting high to do it…” You sighed back, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and drawing her close, the fairy lights overhead looking all too close to stars and making you so, so sleepy.

Clockwork drags a blanket over to you two, throwing the warm fabric over top and nudging her way back against your side. You’re blinking slowly, trying to stay awake and contemplate, but your brain refusing to compute.

“I don’t want you to leave…” You’re whining quietly, tangling your fingers into her hair as her strong arms clasp around your sides.

“Come with me, then…” She whispered back, kissing your shoulder gently.

You wanted to answer, to reason that you couldn't just leave, that you couldn't just disappear…

You were both breathing steadily, minds quietly fizzling out as you made up your mind.

-

“No fuckin’ way.” Jeff is snickering, bumping your shoulder as you tug a drink from the fridge. Your eyes are heavy, exhaustion still steady as Clockwork slides behind you, grabbing milk for her coffee.

“Watch it.” She’s warning, placing a hand on your hip to slide past you as Jeff continues his tease.

The killer can’t stop staring at the wilts on your neck, the dark hickies and lovebites that gave off the events of last night. You hadn’t realized they were there until you had awoken in the backseat of the Jeep this morning, head pounding and body impossibly sore. Clockwork couldn’t get enough of them though, admiring how nice they looked.

However, she was leaving soon, bags already packed and buying her time with one last breakfast. It didn’t take much convincing for your bags to be shoved in the back too, scooping everything you cared to bring and hauling it down to the Jeep quietly.

“Oh, shit-” Toby was next, tugging the neck of your shirt back but quickly getting a slap on the hand from Clockwork. They were both laughing, Toby gave her a silent nod as she let her arm fall over your shoulder, a quiet answer to his unspoken question. He smiled, turning back to Jeff and shoving his shoulder.

“Say bye to [Y/N]. It’ll be a w- while till we see them both again.”

-

You said your quiet goodbyes as Clockwork pulled her Jeep around the front, popping open the passenger door as you jumped inside. She peeled from the clearing, vehicle bouncing and climbing through the unsteady terrain around the mansion. You watched in the windows as it disappeared, the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding finally letting itself out.

Clockwork reached to tangle your hand with hers, clenching tightly as if she never wanted to let go again.

All the times she visited, and all the stories you wished you would get to experience were slowly becoming a reality with every mile between you and that mansion. Never again would you tie yourself to that place. Glancing over, you smiled.

Freedom never looked so pretty.

This was a request from @bubbleduckie!

Comments and kudos are appreciated!

Thank you to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[paulyenvol6]

Wedding Night

Daemon x Stark!Reader (OS)

Y/n Stark only knows the Rogue Prince from tales and can't help but fear her wedding night with the King's brother. But he turns out to be not only an attentive and gentle but also a passionate lover who starts a fire in her when she feels his hands on her for the first time.

Contains: detailed smut, fingering oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, kissing, breeding kink, praising, dirty talk, arranged marriage, soft!dom Daemon, virgin reader, inexperienced and nervous reader, angst

Wordcount: ~4.65k

Masterlist

You had your head lowered so you could only see the stone ground underneath you.

You felt a pain on your scalp as your handmaiden was undoing your braided hair but then she was done and your hair fell down your shoulders. You wanted to step away and preferably sit down but suddenly another servant girl started to unlace your dress in your back and you twitched.

"What are you doing?" you snapped and the girl looked terrified. You felt a little bad because you had scared her but you had bigger problems right now so your eyes flashed at her.

"A-Apologies, my lady," she stummered and looked at you with big eyes.

Your handmaiden, a warm woman of about thirty years old patted the young girl's shoulder and turned to you.

"Do you wish to leave your clothes on? So that your husband can remove them?"

You looked stern and felt numb as the handmaiden observed you and didn't know what to say. You didn't know what to do either, seven hells, you didn't know about Targaryen tradition or anything about marriage or the act of bedding. You didn't even know your husband.

"I-I don't know," you breathed and suddenly your new handmaiden looked pitiful.

"It is tradition for the bride to take off her clothes before the ceremony, my lady. So she can wait in the bed for her husband to claim her maidenhead."

You nodded but had your head lowered and the maidens took it as a sign for them to slowly take off your gown. It fell down to the ground and you felt exposed and vulnerable under their gaze even though they were professional and didn't look at you a second longer than necessary. And then they were done. It happened so quickly, the servants curtseyed in front of you and then left the room and you truthfully would have wished for them to stay longer. Perhaps never leave because now all there was left for you to do was wait.

You stood naked in the middle of your new chambers and felt so horrible and cold that after a few moments you grabbed a night gown that laid on the table that the maiden had probably prepared for after the bedding ceremony. And though you feared that your husband wouldn't approve of what he might regard as a disrespect towards his family's customs you couldn't help yourself and wrapped the gown tightly around your body even though it didn't hid a lot of you.

Then you sat down on the bed and stared at the door, waiting for Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince. You had met him three days ago but the first words you had exchanged were your vows under the eyes of the sept. All you knew about him were the tales the small folk as well as the highborn ladies in court told about him. He was famous for sleeping around; you had heard that there wasn't a brothel in King's Landing that he hadn't visited. And he was known for being a warrior. The commander of the city watch who was as fine a knight as he was brutal and violant and was feared by his enemies. This you could say already: Your husband had seemed rather cold during the celebrations of your wedding and the feasts in the red keep.

And there was another thing: You had heard the rumours about the Rogue Prince and his niece, the Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. No details had reached your ears but they were supposedly more than only an uncle and niece to one another and even though that didn't shock you as the customs of House Targaryen weren't new to you, you still feared that your brown hair would not be to your husband's pleasing.

You were a Stark after all and couldn't look more different to Rhaenyra Targaryen. You had thick dark brown hair and greenish brown eyes and you just hoped that Daemon would be pleased with you. Because this far there hadn't been anything in his words or actions or even face expressions that hinted you that he was any more delighted by this marriage than you were.

You were torn from your thoughts when the door suddenly opened and there he was, your new husband who slowly walked into the room. You had expected him to be drunk as you had seen him sipping on his wine all night but he seemed to be sober when he approached you. His eyes met yours without saying anything and you immediately stood up.

"Husband," you said and lowered your head.

He chuckled which made you lift your gaze and his eyes looked curious while you tried to appear less nervous than you truthfully were. Your hands were shaking and you could feel your lower lip tremble with anxiety. Daemon watched you for a moment, then turned away from you all of a sudden and your eyes followed his movement.

"You're nervous," he spoke while slowly pouring some wine in a cup.

You helplessly stood in the room with your bare feet beginning to feel cold and didn't know whether to follow him or climb on the bed so you remained in your position. The Rogue Prince turned once again and his eyes slowly traveled down your body.

"And you're still dressed."

These words and the realization what was to happen now made your eyes teary and your face was drawn with fear. Your husband sighed and slowly approached you.

"Do you know what happens between man and wife in their wedding night?" he whispered.

You nodded, that much knowledge you had. He raised his eyebrows and gently put his hand on your shoulder that was only covered by the thin gown.

"Are you scared of me?" Daemon asked softly and you didn't know if you were supposed to answer him truthfully or not. So you didn't answer at all and he smiled softly.

"I will not hurt you for telling me the truth, little girl."

This gesture made you exhale slightly and you felt some of the heaviness on your heart vanish. You nodded, it was very slight and yet he noticed it.

"I will not harm you, you understand me?" he said and made sure the two of you had eye contact.

You nodded again though the anxiety hadn't vanished entirely yet. Daemon sensed it too and sighed while gently caressing your shoulder with his thumb.

"What are you scared of, little one, mhm? Tell me."

You gulped and slowly raised your gaze.

"That you don't like me," you breathed. "And that it hurts too much. And that – that I won't know what to do and that you'll be angry."

Daemon almost couldn't hear you because your voice had gotten so quietly and in the end you had lowered your head again. Tears threatened to fall onto your cheek and you bit your lip nervously.

"Shhh...," the Rogue Prince made and lifted your chin with his finger.

"I think worrying that I don't like you shouldn't be an issue," he spoke and smirked slightly. "And I will be gentle with you, little one. I'll go slow and prepare you for me."

His hand wandered up to caress your cheek and it felt surprisingly soft.

"I willl help you, sweet girl. I will guide you and show you how to do it. Sit down," he said and took his hand off you.

You stumbled towards the bed and sat on the edge of the bed. Daemon drank the remaining wine in his cup and then slowly put his cup on the table and walked towards you. He took his seat next to you and watched you mischieviously.

"What do you like to do? What are your passions?"

You frowned, feeling surprised about the change in topics but smiled.

"I like to read. And I like to dance and listen to music."

"What kind of books?"

You thought about it for a second.

"I like to read about dragons. Targaryen history."

Daemon's smirk intensed and he rested himself on his arms behind him. "Have you ever seen a dragon?"

"Only from the far," you said shyly.

"Well what a great coinicidence that I have a dragon."

You nodded excitedly. "I know. Caraxes. I've read all about him. And about the dragons of the Conquerer and his sisters. Balerion, Vhagar and Maraxes."

Daemon couldn't surpress a smirk seeing you finally showing another side of you and listened to you speaking about his ancestors, stories that he had heard a hundred times already. But then after the two of you had spoken a while about all sorts of things Daemon thought it was time to perform your marital duties. It was late already and the Rogue Prince and you couldn't spend the whole night talking. So he smirked at you and his eyes traveled down your body.

"Are you calm?" he whispered and you nodded slowly even though you didn't exactly know what he meant by asking this.

You were still nervous obviously and though Daemon had proven to be a nice person this far you were still a little scared of him. Your husband leaned down to you and pressed his lips on yours. You tried your best to copy him and kissed him back as you felt his hands on your waist. It wasn't unpleasant actually; his lips felt soft on yours and you felt your heart beating a little slower.

But then Daemon slowly began to pull down your night gown and you tensed. He didn't notice your discomfort until you clung to the fabric and stopped him from exposing your body. He looked at you with a frown and your lip shivered.

"You don't want to take it off?" he whispered and you shook your head with teary eyes. "Why not?"

You just shrugged your shoulders.

"Please," you pleaded and unlike what you had expected, the Rogue Prince nodded and just pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Eventually I'll see all of that but we can make it slow," he whispered and you felt relieved.

So his hands remained on your clothed body and he stroke your skin through the fabric in order to get you calm. After a while you relaxed and got used to his soft lips on yours and Daemon's hand wandered up a bit until he touched the underside of your breasts. It was a little odd at first but his touch was gentle and soothing so you let his thumb run over your body.

"Do you like that?" he mumbled against your mouth and you nodded.

"Good."

Then you could feel his hands traveling further up to play with your breasts and nipples. But shortly after he grabbed your waist again while this time his mouth explored you and he kissed down to your neck. You liked what he was doing this far, at least you didn't feel disgusted or uncomfortable and you started to feel like this might not be the worst night of your life. And yet your heart was still beating loud as thunder and you feared you might do something wrong.

Now Daemon's hand pushed you towards the bed a little.

"Lay down," he whispered and you moved backwards to obey him.

While you got comfortable, your husband took off his shirt and revealed his strong and muscular chest that was beautifully lid by the candle lights. You gulped and unconsciously bit your lips which didn't go unnoticed by Daemon. He slowly approached you and climbed on the bed to lay on top of you. He was careful not to press you into the bed with too much of his weight so he partly rested on his knee next to you. Daemon moved the hair out of your face and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"I want this to be nice for you, my sweet Stark girl," he whispered and his pretty eyes so close to you made you feel intimidated and you could feel yourself blush.

"I won't hurt you," he futhermore spoke and toyed with some strays of your brown hair.

And your husband's words actually helped your hasty heartbeat to come down and your tensed muscles relaxed a little. Seeing his face so close to yours, his weight on your body and his hand by the side of your face made you feel heated, almost as if the dragon lit a little fire in you. But that fire would increase highly in the next minutes as Daemon started to kiss your swollen lips again while his hands caressed your waist and breasts.

But soon he was eager for more and kissed his way down to your neck where he found great delight in nibbling at your skin and soothingly kissing it afterwards. You twitched a little when he pulled at your skin with his teeth and your husband smirked up to you. Then his journey led him farther south and soon his mouth brushed over your breasts though still covered by your night gown. Daemon looked up to you, questioningly perhaps, and now you decided to let him undress you. Not because you were convinced that he would love what hid underneath but rather because he seemed to be of gentle nature, different to what you had heard before in the tales told by the ladies in court. You kind of trusted that he would be kind to you and accept your body the way it was. So far he didn't seem like the kind of person to insult or complain, but was affectionate and caring.

But all your worries had been entirely unnecessary anyhow. After you had given him a small nod, the Rogue Prince pulled down your gown to reveal your bare chest. He looked down with a lustful glare in his darkened eyes and his mouth changed to a smirk.

"You most certainly didn't have to feel doubtful about this."

You smiled and blushed and Daemon lowered his head to lick over your pearky nipples that looked so innocent and sweet to your husband. His tongue drew patterns over them and he took them into his mouth to suck on them. You grew more and more lustful and the fire in you became hotter. At some point you reached out to grab at the back of his head and Daemon smirked against your chest, noticing that you finally became a little bolder. Your fingers toyed with his hair and your breath went faster as well.

"Such sweet tits," Daemon whispered and lifted his head again. His thumb ran over your chin and he smirked down to you.

"You're very pretty, little one. There's no reason to feel frightened."

You nodded and finally also opened your mouth.

"Yes," you breathed and then your husband started to further pull down your night gown and you lifted your hips to help him.

Once you lay entirely naked underneath him you pressed your thighs together feeling ashamed to be bare in front of him but Daemon wouldn't have this.

"Ugh uhm," he made and pushed his knee between your legs.

"Don't hide from me, sweet girl," he whispered close to your ear which made you shiver. "I'm your husband now. And you shouldn't hide from your husband."

So you let Daemon run his hand down from your breasts to your belly and then between your legs. He cupped your sex which made your eyes widen at the new feeling and Daemon then ran his finger through your slit.

He was experienced, of course he was. At no point did you doubt the obscene stories about him visiting the brothels of King's Landing to fuck, celebrate and drink even at the young age of 15 years. He was older now, 24 to be exact, mayhaps too mature to live in this overflow and ecstasy and yet he had bedded countless of whores who each had contributed to his knowledge and skill. But of course your lack of inexperience didn't lead back to your younger age, 17, but the duty you had as a woman in this world. Your maidenhead was to be saved for your husband and this moment your deflowering grew closer and closer as your husband's finger ran from your hole up to… you didn't know what it was in truth.

His finger touched a spot that you hadn't know to exist but it sent shivers through your body. Daemon was content when he saw your reaction and pressed into that spot.

"Uhmm," you whined because it really was an indescribable feeling.

He was beyond satisfied and watched your every facial expression as his finger drew circles and different patterns over your little pearl.

"I know, my sweet wife," he whispered and kissed your cheek when you let out a particular loud cry.

"I consider this little pearl to be holy," he spoke with lifted eyebrows. "A holy gift by the mother, so sweet innocent maidens like yourself can be pleasured. Though I don't believe in the faith."

Daemon smirked widely but you were too far gone in your desire to answer him.

Restlessly, you shifted on your back but the weight of his body that pressed into you heavier the more you moved around didn't grant you a lot of space. You whimpered and sighed, panted and exhaled until his hand come to a stop and you immediately missed his touch. You were curious what he would do now and just wished he would continue but to your surprise Daemon kissed his way down on your body until he laid between your legs.

"What are you doing?" you asked breathlessly and your husband smirked.

"I'm preparing you for me, little girl. And I'll give you pleasure that will have your soul leave your body," he whispered and his words made your breath go faster.

And yet you weren't convinced because what you believed he was about to do didn't seem… appropriate. And yes, he lowered his head and kissed right next to your pearl which made you grab his hair.

"But… With your mouth?" you breathed quietly and the Rogue Prince raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. It is one of the finest arts, my sweet love. Just relax and you'll see how much you'll like it."

And he was right, it only took him a few twirls with his tongue around your little nub and you saw stars.

"Mhmm…," you moaned and your husband simply loved how responsive his new precious wife was to him.

Daemon truly took your breath away and tears welled even up in your eyes as his tongue did magical things on your little pearl. It just felt so good, so overwhelmingly good that you never wanted it to stop. He grew even more lucious hearing your sweet noises and at the same time was motivated to let his tongue dance quicker on your nub.

His hands were on your hips, holding you down so you wouldn't be so restless and his eyes remained on you all the time. Sometimes Daemon demanded of you to keep your eyes on him and you tried your best to do as he said but every now and then you couldn't help but let your eyes roll back, so overwhelming was the pleasure. And yet so taunting… It felt as if you were being driven closer and closer to something you couldn't name. And you were eager to find out what it was.

"Daemon," you whimpered and the Rogue Prince smirked, hearing you say his name.

You were begging, pleading for him to get you there, to this place that felt close and yet so far away from you.

"Please, Daemon," you whined and moved your head from one side to the other. "Please."

He couldn't get the smirk out of his face and teasingly flicked your pearl.

"What is it, my sweet girl? What do you wish me to do?"

You couldn't bring yourself to answer. You simply didn't have the power at this point and even if you did, no intelligent thought remained in your head. You just hoped that he would know what it was you desired without words and you were certain that he did but merely wanted to tease you. But then he kissed right on your little pearl and drew tight circles with his tongue around it.

"I know what you need, little one," he whispered with his husky voice and this sound alone made you blush. It sounded filthy and obscene for some reason.

"I'm gonna get you there, love, I promise."

And he did. His tongue didn't come to rest for a second and at the same time Daemon inserted a finger in you. It felt a little uncomfortable at first but you got used to it and after some time he even added a second. You couldn't say that you loved the feeling of it because it burned a little but Daemon made sure you were relaxed and calm by the movement with his tongue on your pearl and you were beyond soaked so his fingers could slide into you without problems.

The noises leaving your mouth were growing louder as well and you couldn't stay still. Without Daemon holding you down you probably would've fallen from the bed by now. And at the same time you felt getting closer and closer to the edge, everything inside of you tensed, a warm feeling spread throughout your body and then… the knot in your belly exploded. The feeling took away your breath and you widened your eyes in shock. This was something you had never felt before and you didn't even realize that you held your breath.

"Daemon," you cried out, your hands tightly grabbing the bedsheets. Your husband was still occupied by licking up every drop of your sweet juices but now soothingly caressed your thigh.

"Breathe, sweet girl," he spoke against your cunt and you inhaled deeply.

You felt your heartbeat slow down and soon enough air was entering your lungs again. And it seemed like Daemon was also done with savouring your cunt now because he licked up your slit one last time and then lifted his head. You were a little relieved because your pearl felt so swollen that his touch had made you twitch after you had reached your high. Daemon crawled up to lay on top of you and kissed you. You were able to taste yourself which made you blush.

"So sweet," he hummed. "Never tasted a cunt sweet like yours, little wolf."

His thumb ran over you lower lip and you shivered. Slowly your mind fully came back to you and when Daemon once again parted your legs with his knee you nervously bit your lip. You knew what would happen now. And you were scared of the pain. What if there was something wrong with your cunt and it just simply… wouldn't work? But the Rogue Prince caringly stroke your cheek and kissed you on your nose.

"It'll be fine. I'm gonna be gentle."

With these words he removed his pants until you saw his cock that stood hard against his stomach. He looked so big and thick that you wondered how he was supposed to fit in your hole. But his cock was pretty though. You wanted to know what he felt like in your hand but that seemed to be a matter for another night because Daemon wrapped his hand around his cock and ran its tip through your fold stopping at your clit to rub against it. You moaned and your eyes fluttered. And then after another few seconds the time had come. Your husband circled your entrance.

"Breathe in, love," he whispered and watched your face for reactions.

You obeyed and inhaled while you felt him thrust into you. There was a barrier and you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen which made you hiss out. The pain made tears well up in your eyes and you held on to Daemon's arms in an attempt to support yourself.

"Shhh," he made and caressed your hair. "It's alright, I know it hurts."

He didn't move yet and gave you time to get used to the feeling which you were thankful for because only slowly did the sorrow fade.

"Doing so well for me," Daemon breathed, feeling overwhelmed by the tightness of your cunt. Your veins were pulsating and you panted uncontrolled trying to perceive your surroundings.

"It hurts," you breathed and your husband immediately reached out to remove the tears from your face with his thumbs. He kissed your cheek while his hands soothingly caressed your shoulders.

"It'll be better in a moment. Just breathe."

And you did, you inhaled and exhaled and after a time you started to feel better. It was such an odd feeling to be filled by his cock. Daemon now pulled out of you only to thrust back in and even though he was gentle, you once again whimpered at the pain.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled against the crouch of your neck and your hands reached out to grab his hair.

But this time it hurt less and soon your husband slowly thrusted in and out of your cunt. His eyes fluttered and it was clear to you that he received great pleasure from being buried in your cunt. By now the pain had also vanished almost entirely and yet you weren't stimulated as amazingly as you had been a few moments before when Daemon had used his mouth on you. Your husband panted heavily and kissed you hungrily while moving inside of you.

"Oh seven hells," he moaned and held the side of your face.

"Are you alright?" he asked and you nodded with big eyes.

"Yes," you breathed and your husband smirked while traveling his hand down between your bodies.

You only knew what he was doing when you felt his hand on your pearl and your mouth formed an 'O'. He went around it in tight circles and you felt your knees getting weak. Together with his deep thrusts inside of you the stimulation was almost too much and your eyes rolled back. The two of you got closer and closer to the edge and his thrusts became sloppy.

"Look at me," Daemon moaned when you closed your eyes. You did as he told you and tried to concentrate on his pretty face in front of you.

"Daemon. Please," you whimpered and your hands helplessly clung to his back.

"Yes, my sweet girl. I'll make you feel good. I'll fill you with my seed until you'll have my babes inside you. Now and every night from now on," he whispered against your ear and it only enhanced your desire.

The feeling in your tummy got more intense with each moment passing and then the two of you came simultaneously.

Daemon grunted deeply and collapsed on top of you while you arched your back and felt you legs shake in pleasure. His seed filled your cunt to the brim and then you laid with him on top and you both tried to catch your breath. Your heart was beating fast and sweat was covering your forehead. After a while Daemon lifted his head and looked at you. Your face was reddened, your eyes swollen from the crying and your hair was sticking to your forehead. You thought that you probably looked horrible but your husband had never seen a prettier sight so he smirked and kissed your lips.

"So sweet," he grinned and you smiled weakly. "My little wolf. I can't believe this beautiful girl is mine now."

You were too exhausted to answer him but your eyes glistened and it was answer enough for Daemon.

As much as you had feared that night it had turned out to be one of the best of your life and you only hoped that many nights like this would follow.  

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Crying pearls in folklore

I've always loved the concept of tears turning to pearls. It shows up scattered across various folklore traditions, but I never realised how often it is linked to laughter that turns to roses, until I stared actively collecting them. I've got 9 so far, and also some interesting variations on the theme!

● Woud and Freid (Bavaria Germany, collected by Schönwerth in the 1850s). A variation on the saga about Freya and Odin, one account written in the 14th century, in which Freya/Freid gets a magnificent necklace by sleeping with the dwarves who made it. The powerful Woud leaves his equally powerful wife Freid for this infidelity, causing her to weep pearls while she searches for him. When she finds him she has wept as many pearls as there were in the necklace. They reconcile.

● Pearl Tears (Bavaria Germany, collected by Schönwerth in the 1850s). A girl, Maria, has the Virgin Mary for her godmother. After staying with her for a while she goes home to her father and step family and finds out she now cries pearls and laughs roses. After escaping their abuse the Virgin Mary gives her a castle to live in and she spends her days helping the ill and the poor.

● Rose Laughter and Pearl Tears (Muradina nail olmayan dilber [The beauty who did not gain her fortune], Turkey, collected by Saim Sakaoglu in the 1960's). The gifts of this heroine are roses when she laughs, pearls when she cries, grass growing wherever she walks, and her bath water turns to gold when she's done. She goes through a false bride/true bride plot that ends in a Sleeping Beauty plot before she is woken and married.

● The Goose-Girl at the Well (Die Gänsehirtin am Brunnen, Germany, printed by the Grimms in 1815.) In this story the youngest of three princesses is born weeping pearls and gems. She is driven away by her father after saying she loves him like she loves salt, but is found by a young count while she tends the geese for a wise woman, and reunited with her sorrowful parents.

● The Three Gifts, (Poland, from: Folk-Lore and Legends: Russian and Polish, 1890). A mistreated stepdaughter gives alms to an old man and is blessed by three mysterious young men to have her tears turn to pearls, her laughter produce roses, and to have golden fish appear in whatever water she touches. The girl's stepsister gets cursed like in Diamonds and Toads/The Two Fairies and a false/true bride plot follows. [Almost identical to Tears of Pearls, from: Fairy Tales of the Slav Peasants and Herdsmen, 1896. (Thank you @rabbitwhiterabbit!)]

● The Golden Duck (Die Goldne Ente, Germany and/or Czechia, from: Jacob Grimm's 1810 handwritten manuscript, at least partly based on a literary version of the tale in Sagen der böhmischen Vorzeit, 1808. Available in Dutch as a footnote to The White and the Black Bride.) A woman with one daughter takes in her orphaned niece and nephew. One day a good fairy disguised as an old woman asks for hospitality and rewards them for their kind treatment of her. The foster daughter gets blessed above all: her tears will turn to pearls, she will comb gold thread from her hair, and her saliva turns to silver. She must be veiled and protected against fresh air to keep the magic intact however. What follows is a rather complicated version of the "true bride switched for false bride" plot.

● The Sisters Who Envied Their Cadette (Histoire des deux sœurs jalouses de leur cadette, from Antoine Galland’s French One Tousand and One Nights, collected from 18th century Syrian storyteller Hanna Diyab). The ruler of Persia overhears three sisters talking, the youngest of them declares that if she got to marry the king she would give him a child with hair of gold and silver, their tears will become pearls and whenever they smile, rosebuds will appear. It happens like she predicts, but her envious sisters steal the baby and fairy tale (mis)fortune ensues. [Thank you @tattedpetticoats!]

● The Snake (La Biscia, Italy, composed by Italo Calvino in the 1950's from a Piedmontese and Tuscan variant of Straparola's literary fairy tale Biancabella and the Serpent). A snake blesses a kind farmer's daughter with three charms: shedding tears of pearl and silver, shedding golden pomegranate seeds when she laughs and producing fish of every kind when she washes her hands. Her envious sisters see to it she is locked up in the attic, but a magic pomegranate tree grows from the seeds of her laughter and the prince wishes to marry whoever can pick its fruits. The sisters try to kill and take their younger sister's place, but of course she prevails. [Thank you @m-siecle!]

The Rose-laughing Queen (A Rózsát Nevető Királykisasszony, Hungarian, many variants exist.). A princess who weeps pearls, laughs roses and leaves gold where she steps is betrayed and abandoned on the way to her fiancée the prince, and switched with a witches' daughter. She is saved by a kind gardener, becomes a maid to the false bride, and is revealed when the bride hits her and she weeps pearls in front of the prince. [Thank you @susannaius!]

Stories I've seen mentioned have this motif but that I haven't found yet:

Apparently some Polynesian mythology features gods crying pearls.

Chinese folklore to do with jiaoren and dragons is referred to as concerning tears and pearls.

The Golden Girl, from Uzbekistan.

The Maiden Who Laughs Roses and Weeps Pearls, from Greece, indexed by Jack Zipes.

The relatively new ATU tale type The Blinded Bride includes the heroine producing gold, jewels, flowers or pearls from her body in some way, including crying. (Research by C. Goldberg.)

A Persian/Iranian tale indexed by Ulrich Marzolph under type 403, Die Mädchen Blumenlacher.

Several variants of the tale type "The Maiden (Youth) with a Separable Soul in a Necklace" mention the heroine also being blessed with weeing pearls.

Some interesting variants with gems instead of pearls:

● The Fairy who cried Gems (Ladakh, several variants exist). A boy fiends a fairy weeping from loneliness in a beautiful palace. Her tears all turn to gems. After comforting her she gifts him a single tear shaped gem. Possession of the gem leads to the boy being threatened by the greedy land owner, but the fairy helps the boy defeat him. (A more elaborate version The King and the Jewel, can be read in: Folk-Tales of Ladakh, 1975)

● The Legend of Apache Leap and the Apache Tears (Apache, origin presumably 1870). Around seventy-five Apache warriors, killed or driven to their death by the US Cavalry, are mourned by their families near the cliff where they died. Their tears either turn to obsidian or are embedded into obsidian stones, preserving their translucence. These obsidian tears are said to bring good luck (or prevent sorrow needful of tears) to those who find/carry them. (Thank you @rabbitwhiterabbit!)

● The Golden Necklace (Afghanistan, collected and translated by Wahid Omar from Jhanara Amin in 1992). A merchant's wife hides her newborn baby girl in the cellar so her father will not kill her. Growing up pale and sickly in the dark, five angels find her and bless her with the Necklace of Life to make her healthy, golden bricks wherever she walks, laughter that turns to flowers, and tears that turn to emeralds. When she is a young woman her mother sends the girl to her uncle, a king, begging him to protect her and let her marry his only son. But the girl's nanny betrays her and a false bride/true bride plot follows, with somewhat of a Rapunzel flavour mixed in.

Tales which feature a similar gift, but without the tears:

● Diamonds and Toads, or: The Fairies, French literary fairy tale by Perrault: jewel or flower falls from the blessed girl's mouth at every word.

● The Three Little Men in the Wood, the Grimms, blessing from three little men in the woods is she will grow prettier every day, gold will fall from her mouth at every word, and she will one day marry a king.

● The True Bride, Nlakapamuk tale from North America that features a protagonist who spits nuggets of gold.

● Biancabella and the Snake, Italian literary fairy tale by Straparola, in which Biancabella gains the power to have pearls and gems fall from her hair when combed, and roses, violets and other flowers spring up around her hands when she washes them.

● Gulkhandaran's Flower, a Kurdish folktale in which a beautiful ifrit has a jewel fall from her mouth whenever she smiles or laughs, her cousin Gulkhandaran has flowers fall from her mouth when she laughs.

[heartavenue]

.⋅˚₊‧ ♛ ‧₊˚ Pretty Pink Princess: Charlotte La Bouff Inspired Things To Script

❝ I was beginning to think that wishing on stars was just for babies and crazy people. ❞ Request for anon, thank you so much for asking to do this I had a lot of fun making this inspired by my favorite southern diva! As per usual creds to @premiumbitch for making this (Leo will forever be missed </3)

♛ Southern Belle Charm

You have that special southern charm about you. You always make people feel better with a slight smile and a small nod of the head. People are always finding themselves being delighted by you. You are extremely kind and your hospitality knows no bounds. People gravitate towards your rich southern drawl, feeling a great sense of comfort. You are the type to offer up your seat to anyone who is in need, fixin an extra plate of food to take home to your loved ones, smiling as wide as the Mississippi river when you're speaking to someone.

♛ Daddy's Girl

People like to describe you as the two S's: Sweet and Spoiled. You're known for getting anything and everything that you want. You are the daughter of the most wealthy and influential family in town. There is not one inch of the city who does not know your name. The town folk know not to mess with you as they don't want to face the very real consequences that come with bothering you. You only have to ask for what you want once; it comes natural to you, you need not beg or plead. You want that pretty pink new handbag? Granted. That new pearl necklace that's been calling your name? It's already yours.

♛ Fairytale Lifestyle

Every relic of this world was designed specifically for you, as you navigate life it seems as if only the most magical things happen to you. You are like a princess in a fairy tale, flowers bloom where you step, birds chirp when you awake from your slumber. Animals often approach you, strangers will present you with gifts, children offer to braid your hair. You walk with poise and grace, each step more calculated than the last. To everyone around you, you are their princess. Like honey you are incredibly sweet and can never go bad. You do not desire love, love desires you. It consumes your every being, every movement and every thought. Ever since you were a little one you knew that you were destined for a match made in heaven. Every morsel in your body will be drowned in passion, romance, desire.

♛ General Charlotte La Bouff Things:

This is YOUR world everyone else is just living in it. From your wealth to your style people are in awe of anything you do.

The Main Character. You know how to make an entrance, grand gestures and displays of your wealth is just one way to get everyone's attention. As soon as you enter a room, people take a moment just to gaze upon your beauty. It is like you stepped right outside of a storybook: mythical, majestic, and magical.

Although you are used to getting what you want, when it comes to helping out a friend you are always there. You are incredibly considerate and kind, often making sure that everyone else is okay.

You are bright eyed and bushy tailed, always anticipating what's going to happen next. You are full of life and eager to experience the unknown.

You own every outfit, from your laid back lounge wear to your custom made designer dress you are at the moment. All of your clothes seem like they were made to be worn by you.

You expect nothing but the best, because you know that you deserve the best.

You keep things classy and real. You're blunt but not rude, if you don't like something you will speak up about it.

[covenbeyond]

wrong place / wrong time

pentagram m.list | next chapter

vampire!141 x human!reader (victorian era au)

series tags f reader, slow burn, poly 141, victorian vampire au, angst, eventual smut, kyle is whipped immediately, creating insane lore for no reason, no use of y/n, no reader description except boobies, violence and blood warning, will probably add more <3

word count 5.4k

December 29th, 1899.

The streets of your quaint little town are as busy as they’ll ever be, with folks running around in a haze of post-Christmas joy and pre-new years excitement.

Looking up, you note that a storm is approaching, snowflakes cover the streets in white as the winds blow harshly and the temperature drops.

There are rich couples with snow covering their fur coats, rushing about to leave this tiny town. With Christmas over, winter holidays have come to an end. They’ll return to their luxurious estates, to celebrate the new year amongst their other rich friends.

The locals are buying and selling festive supplies for smaller prices, tinkling laughter of children and shouts of people bargaining bounce off the cobblestone paths, filling the market with ambience.

And you, you’re helping your cousin deconstruct his stall, pulling down the tarps as Alex dismantles the plywood beams. With the end of the Christmas sales, he will return to his travelling, and you’ll miss him terribly.

“It’s a cold one, today.” Alex gripes, moustache twitching below his nose, damp from snowflakes.

You snort, “Yes, you would almost think it’s Winter.”

Alex gives you a look, shaking his head. “Instead of playing the comedian, could you take those tarps over to Daisy? I’m almost done with pulling these poles down, and I’d like to leave before dark.”

“So grumpy.” You laugh, darting away from him before he can pull down your hood in retaliation for your cheek.

Collecting the folded tarps, you swiftly walk over to Alex’s horse Daisy, and her adjoining wagon. She neighs tersely at you as you approach, her hide covered in snow. Her tale swishes angrily, explicitly showing her disdain for the weather.

“I know, pretty girl.” You chuckle, your breath leaving you in clouds, “Almost done, then you can head home.” You pile the tarps into her cart, patting her neck affectionately as you leave her side.

You understand how she feels, your cheap clothes have been fighting against the harsh cold of the oncoming blizzard. Having bought an entire outfit to combat the ever decreasing temperature, you would have thought you were prepared for this.

However, it would seem your boots are no match for the winter, as a patch of black ice on the stone floor catches you out, your weight shifting forward and sending you stumbling.

You shriek, feeling the world spin around you as you fall backwards. You clench your eyes shut as you brace for the impact of the floor-

But it never comes. Warmth surrounds you, and you open your eyes, finding yourself looking at a… very handsome man.

“Are you alright, miss?” He asks, voice smooth and words enunciated. A Londoner, if you were to guess. A very, very handsome Londoner.

Who you’re currently embraced in the arms of.

“Oh!” You gasp, face flushing, “Quite fine. Just… gravities worst enemy.”

The man chuckles, lifting you upright and helping you find your footing. His hands remain on your biceps, keeping you steady against the brutal winds.

“I wouldn't say gravity. Though, perhaps ice has it out for you.” He jokes, a dazzling smile on his face.

He finally removes his arms, and you immediately miss the weight of them, even if they offered little warmth. Probably due to the thick layers he’s wearing. An immaculate navy suit under a thick, fur lined black coat.

He adjusts his fedora, shielding his honey brown eyes from the sun. He flashes you a pearly white smile, and you believe you’re done for.

“Perhaps I could learn the name of my saviour?” You ask, offering your hand to shake.

He stiffens for a second, tilting his head at you in a contemplative manner, before taking your gloved hand in his own. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to the back of it.

Perhaps it really is gravity that hates you, for you feel like the world is spinning once again.

“Kyle Garrick, miss.” He says, rising again to offer another one of his dazzling smiles, “At your service.”

Service me, please- you shake your head, fighting a blush, and give him your name, “A pleasure.”

He smiles again, “The pleasure is all mine-”

“Gaz!”

The both of you jump as a loud, deep voice calls out. Looking around for the source, you find another man standing a few feet away, looking between the both of you.

Like Mr Garrick, he is dressed impeccably, deep green three-piece over a matching heavy coat, with a unique hat and a fierce moustache. And like Mr Garrick, he’s very handsome. God forbid.

The man raises an eyebrow at your Mr Garrick, who sighs loudly through his nose.

“Gaz?” You ask, letting out a confused laugh, “What’s a gaz?”

“It’s a, uh, nickname.” Mr ‘Gaz’ Garrick explains, smiling at you bashfully, “Not one that I’m overly fond of at this moment.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, “And why is that?”

“Because it means that my time with you is being cut short.” He says apologetically.

“That’s a shame.” You say, your disappointment evident in your downtrodden expression.

Garrick gives you a somber smile, once again leaning forward to take your hand in his, pressing another, lingering kiss. He stares deep into your eyes as he bids you goodbye, “My lady.”

“Mr Garrick.”

With that, he turns and strides over to join his comrade. The moustached man remains still as a statue, staring directly at you, eyes narrowed, deep in thought.

You’re so focused on watching him and Mr Garrick as they look at you and begin to converse, that you don’t notice your cousin arriving at your side with the rest of his belongings.

Alex clears his throat, giving you an odd look when you jump in surprise.

“Y’alright?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at the two men. Mr Garrick and his friend take their leave, disappearing amongst the throngs of people and vanishing like ghosts.

“Always.” You smile, hiding the disappointment of losing sight of the pair, “Now, let’s get Daisy out of this god awful cold.”

“And you as well. Are you feeling alright?” Alex inquires as he packs up his cart, soothing a whinnying Daisy.

“Perfectly fine, why?”

“Your face is awfully red.” He smirks, “Unless that has something to do with the man I saw leaving your side?”

You send him off with a smack to his arm, ignoring his teasing laugh.

Alex waves to you as he clicks his tongue and sends Daisy on her way. You watch with a sad smile as your cousin is swallowed by the crowd, before looking back to the devious patch of ice that Mr Garrick had to save you from.

Perhaps you are blushing, just a little bit.

Who could blame you?

On the morning of December 30th, your neighbour's baby wakes you up with the sun.

The cottage you live in is small, gifted to you in your will by your late aunt. It was homely, made so by you, but often lonely. The sound of the weeping child, the soothing voice of his mother, the older children playing in the snow as their father laughs at their antics, reminds you of what you do not have.

A family of your own.

Your parents long gone, no siblings, your aunt recently passed. Your only living relative is your cousin, but he is always travelling, a wild soul who seeks a life of opportunity.

And while he’s asked if you would like to join him, you’re not one for adventure.

So you’re left alone. No husband, no children, no real clan. Just four walls and dusty floorboards, the sounds of your neighbours and the life you wish you had.

It presses down on your chest, forcing you out of your bed and readying for the day far earlier than you usually would.

Maybe today you’ll stock up on firewood like you've been meaning to, you tell yourself as you don your coat and boots. A quick walk around town will make you forget your isolation, surely.

And it’ll be a completely coincidental benefit if you happen to run into a certain Mr Garrick…

The town is less chaotic this morning. Only a few farmers and their sons wander about with their goods, and an old couple walking arm and arm to avoid slipping on the snowy paths.

Though the snow has ceased to fall, it has generously left behind a thick layer of fluffy snow across the walkways and roads, thick enough to reach your shins. You hold your skirts up to jog to the local shop, taking long strides to avoid larger lumps of snow.

What a sight you must look, bouncing through the snow like some wild thing.

A tinkling bell announces your arrival as you enter the general store, and you’re met with a much appreciated warmth. Your teeth are chattering, your gloved hands rubbing your arms to regain some heat.

“Morning, Mrs Thompson.” You greet the woman behind the counter, who looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Good morning, dear.” The elderly lady says with a smile, “What are you doing out in that weather?”

“I needed more firewood.” You explain, “The old house does not magically warm itself.”

“It should be ashamed of itself.” Mrs Thomson says before returning to her chores.

You huff out a laugh, nodding at her as you walk deeper into the shop.

While the shop constantly changes the places it organises supplies, it’s small enough that you can find whatever you need rather easily. But firewood seems to be evading you, forcing you into the dark, back corridor which stores the recently re-supplied goods.

As you search, a startlingly familiar voice echoes down the smaller hallway, and you feel your heart beat quicker when you recognise the deep tone.

“...ridiculous. We’re too out in the open in this town, we can’t just… disappear like we did back in London.”

It’s Mr Kyle Garrick, whispering to someone else.

“Aye, no’ with all these small town folk gossipin’ about every new face they spot.” A Scottish voice responds to him.

Looking around for the sources of the voices, you see two, tall shadows lingering at the end. They're leaning close, talking animatedly.

As you approach, Garrick continues muttering, “I can’t understand why the captain would insist we come here. And why not tell us? Soap, I can’t help but worry-”

“Mr Garrick?” You smile, interrupting them and announcing yourself, worrying about eavesdropping.

Two heads snap to look in your direction, two pairs of bright eyes finding you in the darkness. One cerulean blue, the other golden brown.

Recognition fills the latter, and Garrick’s face lights up upon seeing you, “Miss? What are you doing here?”

“Just a bit of shopping.” You smile, looking between the two of them.

“Oh? Buying anything of note?” Garrick asks, taking a step closer and subtly shielding his friend from view.

You pretend not to notice; “Firewood, very exciting stuff.”

Garrick laughs, “Riveting.”

His accomplice eyes you, looking you up and down with appraising eyes. He steps out of the darkness, the lamplight flooding his face. Handsome, just like Garrick. Less clean cut, with a stubbled jaw and various scars, both unable to hide his rugged good looks.

What’s with all the beautiful newcomers?

“Are ye lookin' for it lass? Saw the owner moving it towards the rear window this mornin’” The new man says, offering a large grin.

Not as warm as Mr Garrick’s, more… wolfish. Hungry. You can see your acquaintance giving his friend a look, something darkening his pretty brown eyes. But when they turn back to you, they regain their kindness.

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” He smiles, “This is my colleague, John MacTavish.”

“Colleague?” Mr MacTavish grumbles indignantly, earning a light elbow to the chest.

“Behave.” Mr Garrick bites.

You chuckle, “Well, thank you for the help, Mr MacTavish. My name is-”

“I know, lass.” MacTavish interrupts, before practically purring your name, “Gaz told us all about you.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking. A shiver runs through your body, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively. What a strange thing to say…

Mr Garrick clenches his jaw, side eyeing his friend with another deadly glare. Mr MacTavish seems unfazed, merely grinning and crossing his arms in a confident stance.

With a rough clearing of his throat, Me Garrick steps closer to you, “Here, miss, let me show you where the firewood is.”

You force a smile on your face, trying to internally wave off the anxiety you feel, “That would be very kind of you, thank you Mr Garrick.”

“Very kind of you, Mr Garrick.” MacTavish parots.

Garrick ignores him as he leads you out of the corridor, further into the warm light of the store until you see the firewood piled up.

Before you can say anything, Garrick begins grabbing a few, piling a hefty stack in his arms.

Lord, he’s strong.

You can feel your face burning as you fight the sordid images playing in your mind, all of which display Mr Garrick using that strength for other means.

He insists on carrying the logs for you, even after you’ve paid and left the shop, not allowing you to hold a single one. Your heart races at the prospect of him carrying them to your home.

As you linger at the shop's entrance, you catch the tail end of a nearby man talking to the butcher. “-wouldn’t believe such gruesome sightings near these parts.”

“Nasty business.” The butcher agrees, voice grim.

The two stare at a small group in the centre of town, and you find yourself studying them too.

You recognise one of them as Mayor Shepherd, and he’s animatedly talking to a stranger. A leering blonde man, with cold eyes and a smirking face.

Their conversation is hissed, but a word cuts through the air, unmistakable.

“...Vampires...”

Your blood goes cold.

Vampires. Creatures of the night. Monsters disguising as humans, slaughtering and drinking from their victims.

In larger cities, it is more common to see them. They hunt in groups, or gangs. Vicious killers lingering in the dark, luring the weak into their nests to feast.

The stories are whispered by drunks in dark pubs, or chattering old ladies fearful of their own frailty, or parents warning their children of what hides in their closets.

But you’ve never heard of them being in such a small town like yours.

The man mayor Shepherd talks to seems at ease. His dark clothes and crosses give him the appearance of a priest. But his gait, his daggers, and his shadowed lackeys grouped behind him like a pack of wolves, they all scream vampire hunter.

Are there vampires nearby? You’ve seen no such beasts, never heard of anyone you know having seen one in person.

God forbid they're lingering in your quaint town.

Garrick follows your line of sight, his eyebrows furrowing. His face seems to have darkened, and he looks around before spotting a teenaged boy with a horse and cart.

He whistles him over, handing him a few coins, “Take these logs to this ladies house, would you?”

The boy is quick to nod, looking down in shock at the shocking amount of money held in his hand.

“Mr Garrick?”

“I must leave you here, my lady.” He says, voice deadly serious, “I have urgent business I forgot about.”

“Oh… alright, well-”

“Good day, my lady.” He tips his hat, walking away swiftly.

You watch him leave, utterly confused and a little bit (only a little bit) disappointed. But you shake the feeling away, leading the young man with your pile of firewood towards your humble home.

Unbeknownst to you, a large, forboding figure watches you from a distance.

The winds are rageful tonight.

The gate outside bangs loudly, thunderous and repetitive. It’s driving you mad.

Escaping your cocoon of blankets, you wrap two shawls around yourself under your winter coat, braving the elements to shut your goddamned gate.

It’s even worse than you thought, your teeth chattering as you carefully walk down your garden pathway to the end of your lot. The stones are icy, shiny and black like a river below your feet.

The gate taunts you with its incessant banging, swinging back and forth and colliding with your fence in a heartbeat like melody.

You curse it internally as you grab it with shaking hands, pulling it closed and latching the hatch.

“And you stay shut.” You gripe, “Bloody useless hunk of wood-”

A yowl.

You startle, eyes wide as you look up. The woods behind your street stare back at you, dark and infinite. The snow topped trees sway with the howling wind.

The noise could be that of an animal, perhaps a wounded fox or a lost calf. Perhaps a wolf searching for food in the unending

But then it comes again. A pained, weeping noise, longer than the first yelp. It’s a wail, full of agony, full of desperation. And it sounds like the cry of a person.

You grit your teeth, concern swiftly overtaking your fear. It could be a traveller calling for help, or one of the neighbours children lost and cold and succumbing to the elements.

How could you live with yourself if you didn't look?

You curse yourself as you open your gate, closing it behind you as you take slow, tentative steps into the dark unknown.

The woods you know well, in the Summer days. You took strolls with your father when you were a child, you walked the neighbors dogs for a fee when you were sixteen.

But you don't recognise them now. In the dark, in the cold. The moonlight casts shadows through the trees, thin fingers from the branches, grabbing at your ankles.

The cry comes again, and you keep walking.

It’s not bravery that pushes you forward, nor is it curiosity. Perhaps stupidity, or even nativity, or maybe even the delusion of believing oneself is invincible.

Truly, though, it’s something else.

A pull. An invisible string drawing you close, grabbing you by the neck and dragging you forward, until you see the howler themself.

Leaning against a tree, heaving and whining like a wounded animal, clawing at the bark beneath it’s sharpened fingers. Skin clammy in the moonlight, eyes scrunched and head repeatedly slamming back against the tree trunk.

But even still, he’s unmistakable.

“Mr Garrick?” You call, “Mr Garrick, are you alright-?”

His eyes open, his head turns to you.

Your heart drops.

His eyes are glowing, golden yellow, pupils a mere dot in an ocean of colour. Full lips pulling back to reveal lines of sharp teeth. He snarls, pushing himself off of the tree, strong legs prowling towards you.

His gaze is hungry, inhuman, and dead set on you.

Vampire.

You stumble back, your foot catching on a root, your back colliding with the ground.

Garrick stalks forward, a deep, rumbling growl clawing through his throat. Fangs sharp like knives, saliva pooling from his mouth, rabid in his monstrous desire to kill.

Moving on your hands, pushing yourself backwards, you’re unable to look away from the man approaching you. You feel tears falling down your cheeks, warm against your cold skin.

All you feel is fear washing over you, as you look at the once handsome face of Mr Garrick, now the feral expression of a monster.

Your back collides with something solid, and you look up.

A skeletal face.

You scream, before the face lunges for you, and you brace for death to take you.

But strong hands grab you, pulling you up with inhuman strength. The ghastly figure pushes you behind him, catching Garrick as he rushes forward.

They clash, Garrick’s clawed hands slashing at the strange man, who pushes him back with inhuman strength. Garrick howls, fighting with ferocity, desperate to get to you, to devour his meal. The mysterious ghoul holds him back, snarling behind what you can now see is a mask.

His head snaps around, black eyes look directly at you.

“Run!” He shouts.

And you do.

December 31st, the sun has risen. You haven't slept a wink.

Once returning home, you locked and barred your door, pushing your kitchen table against it with shaking hands. You knocked over books and broke knickknacks climbing atop your bookshelf to grab your father's rifle, clasping it to your chest not unlike a child would its teddy bear.

You collapsed to the ground in a mess of sweat and tears, shaking and weeping, knuckles turned white against the iron of the gun.

It took hours before you could finally take a full breath, when your heart began to slow as the first rays of sunlight.

You moved in a daze as you prepared coffee. You dressed like a machine, completely automatic as you wrapped yourself in your coat and scarf and left your home.

Where were you going? You had no idea.

But you find yourself standing in the centre of town, looking at the spot of black ice that caused you to meet Mr Garrick in the first place. Traitorous spot of ice, sending you careening into a confusing nightmare.

Someone knocks into you, startling you from your reverie.

You jolt, looking up, expecting the worst. But instead, you meet the eyes of the same blonde man mayor Shepherd was speaking to yesterday.

“Excuse me.” He says, an American accent evident, “My fault.”

“Graves.” One of his men urge him on, and Graves gives you a lingering look as he continues on his way.

You shiver as you watch him leave. Could he know? About your dealings with Mr Garrick? About the vampires you now know linger in this town?

Uneasy, you allow your feet to carry you down the street, leaving the heavily populated areas and now traipsing down the narrow alleys.

Your mind is a mess, thoughts spiralling and imagination running wild. So much so, that when you see him at first, you think you may be imagining him.

Mr Garrick.

Standing at the other end of the street, dressed well and looking human again. He turns to face you, and you halt, realising that he is not a figment of your imagination.

All of a sudden, you’re terrified.

His eyes fall on you, his face dropping into a devastated expression, mouth opening to call out to you.

You turn, running away. Footfalls echo around you, heavier and faster than you. You flee down a smaller alleyways, trying to lose him.

Until you meet a dead end.

“My lady-” Garrick calls out, his figure joining you in the shadowed backstreet.

“Stay- stay away from me.” You beg, trying to push past him, panicking like a caged animal.

“Please, please, listen to me.” Garrick begs, reaching out for you.

“No!” You yell, turning and slamming right into a solid chest.

Craning your neck, you find yourself looking into black eyes. Pale eyelashes, a scar running down a pale temple, a black mask covering the lower half of a face.

Those eyes… the skull from last night…

You swallow as you step back, looking back at Garrick, as he’s joined MacTavish, appearing from the shadows.

A third man stands guard in front of the exit next to the masked man, his eyes equally harsh and his presence commanding.

The moustached friend of Garrick’s, with the strange hat and eery glare.

“Price, she means us no harm.” Garrick says, voice tight but stern, glaring at the hatted man.

“If that's the case, then we don't mean her no harm either.”

“Unlikely.” You bite, unable to stop yourself.

MacTavish whistles lowly, “Birdie’s got some bollocks on ‘er.”

“Johnny.” The skull warns.

“What you saw last night…” Price says, trailing off.

He needs not say more. He’s talking about Mr Garrick, his transformation, his monstrousness and your near death.

They’re all a part of it.

“I know what I saw.” You insist, “He’s a-”

“Mind your tongue, girl.” The masked man warns, voice deep and brutish.

You look at him, “You were there too. You stopped him, with your bare hands. There's no way you could have done that if you… you’re…”

Looking at all of them, you understand.

“You’re all…” vampires…

Price’s moustache twitches as his lips purse, a display of annoyance at having to have this conversation. The others look between you and him, seemingly awaiting his verdict.

He’s the leader. The 'captain', that Garrick mentioned in the shop. The reason they're here.

“We won’t deny what you saw.” Price finally says, “But I would advise you to keep it to yourself.”

You blanch, “Or what? You’ll kill me?”

Price stares down at you, his lips a thin line under his bushy facial hair. His expression is cold, unfeeling.

Your eyes fall, landing on his wide, unmoving chest. Swallowing, you clench and unclench your hands, finding comfort in the strain of your muscles, adrenaline fuelling your entire body.

But it’s not like you could fight them, it's not like you have any choice.

“I won't say a thing.” You say, “Just… leave me be.”

The group is silent for a moment, and though you dare not look up at them, you can sense their eyes on you, before they shuffle.

The large, foreboding figure moves, as does Price. The group splits in two to allow you to leave down the alleyway.

It almost surprises you, that these supposed monsters, allow you your freedom.

But who are you to question it?

You keep your head down as you take a tentative step forward, testing the waters. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to cackle and renounce their generosity.

But they do not. They simply watch as you make your exit.

You take another step, when a hand presses to your bicep, ever so gently. You look up slowly, to meet the eyes of Garrick.

His pretty brown eyes, so sad now. Remorseful, you would think, if you allowed your feeble heart to win over your brain.

“Please…” Garrick says softly, “Do not hate me.”

How could you not? Yet, how could you?

With traitorous hesitation, you pull your arm free, barely sparing the four men a final glance before turning on your heel, and swiftly walking away.

Two hours till midnight, the world around you is celebrating, but your mind is in shambles.

The turn of the new century, and it’s the last thing on your mind. All you can think about is the four vampires you've unwillingly become acquainted with.

Mr Kyle Garrick, with his good looks and manners, his kind eyes juxtaposing the sharp fangs he hides in his maw. His Scottish friend MacTavish, also known as “Soap”, for some unknown reason. His wild grin and sparkling eyes, an air of recklessness surrounding his firm form.

Then the leader, Price, the captain as Garrick called him. So commanding and dangerous. Strange hat and facial hair, with tall stature and strong body. Even when looking into his cold, callous eyes, your heart fluttered with strange desire.

And the most mysterious of them all. The unnamed one, the most frightening. Too tall, too broad, his eyes too dark and his voice too deep. But he had protected you, an innocent, a nobody, from his ravenous friend.

Why?

You want to know why. You want to know all about them.

Oh, I’m a fool, you think to yourself, as you stand in the shadows of your back garden, A fool for a pretty man.

A pretty vampire, you remind yourself as you open your gate, walking out towards the dark woods in search for the vampires.

Death has never had someone make it so easy for it.

The owls hoot and the neighbors dogs howl. There are distant echoes of laughter and chattering from your neighbors, that grow quieter with every hesitant step you take.

The woods seem tense, now. A thick, invisible fog lingers, a force pushing you back, warning you off. But you push through, ears straining for any indication of the men you search for.

You catch a voice. Hushed, muffled by the dense trees and flurry of snow.

Someone talks, and another responds, and you draw closer to the conversation, as if you were a sailor following the call of a siren.

The clouds open for a moment, and the moonlight illuminates the path ahead. Clearly now, you see a man, stalking through the shadows.

“Mr Garrick?” You call out, a mix of misguided hope and instinctual resistance.

Another silhouette moves across a tree, twigs snap underfoot as someone circles you.

You take another step, approaching the man you watch, “Mr Gar-”

Something collides with you.

Another man, his hands grabbing you, slamming you close to his own body.

The quick tear of fabric, and a sharp force pressing into your chest. Your blood has cooled, a gasp in caught in your throat. Your vision is hazy, blinking and swimming, and staring into unfamiliar eyes..

Blue, but stormy, dim with malice. And angry, until they’re not. Turning into surprise, roving over your face before looking down.

“Oh, God...” An American voice.

But you barely register his words, your chest feeling numb. Your eyes drift down, confused when you see his hand, bloodied skin pressed against the cloth of your bodice, his fingers wrapped around the base of a wooden dagger.

“What-?”

You choke, drool escaping your lips. No, not drool. Blood. Red dribbles down your chin, leaving you in spluttered coughs like cigarette smoke as you let out a cough.

The man pulls the dagger out, and you sob in agony, feeling red hot pain shoot through your torso.You stumble back, your legs feeling too light and your head feeling too heavy.

You’re falling. It draws out, as if you were swimming through tar. The winter leaves cushion your fall, but you barely feel it through the chill that is slowly enveloping your body.

More voices surround you. Shouting, panicked, confused. You look at the man above you, still holding the stake he had lodged in your chest. You recognise him now, though you seem to be seeing two of him, swaying back in forth.

It’s Graves, the vampire hunter.

But I’m not a vampire, you want to say, why would you do this to me?

Words cannot form, choking on your breath. You feel like your chest is too small, not allowing your lungs to work properly. You touch your chest, bringing your hand back to look at your shaking fingers.

Stained with blood now, it looks so dark in the shadows of the night. It doesn't feel real, so warm and so thick. Your blood, it belongs to you.

I want it back, you internally plead, it’s not supposed to be out here, falling onto the snow. It’s supposed to be keeping my body alive.

What will happen to me when it’s all gone?

“We leave her here.” Graves says, loud enough for you to hear, to cling to the sound of a voice that isn't your own, “We return in the morning, and tell Shepherd we found her. The vampires did this. Yes?"

An uneasy silence falls between his men, only interrupted by your chokes and whimpers and mumbled questions that no-one seems to hear. Are you talking inside or outside?

“Yes?!” Graves yells, and his men shout in agreement, stumbling over one another as they begin rushing away, shadows growing smaller and smaller until they’re gone.

I don’t want to be alone, your voice echoes inside your head, I don’t want to die like I lived. All alone.

Snow couches below feet, and Graves crouches beside you, grimacing at your appearance.

“Your death will aid the fight against the living dead.” He says, looking you up and down, “May God be with you.” before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

So this is how it all ends?

What was the point of all of this? Being born covered in blood only to die same? Alone, this time, with only the sound of your frenzied breath and racing heart to keep your company…

Your heart sounds like the galloping of a horse. It sounds like rushed feet running through the snow. It sounds like someone saying your name gently, as a hand cups your cheek.

A hand so cold it makes you cringe, gurgling out more blood instead of words. And when your eyes focus, a face is looking down at you.

Honey brown eyes, full lips turned down into a frown. A handsome face warped with concern.

“Oh, my lady.” Kyle Garrick says, “What have they done to you?

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 2025 covenbeyond — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

beautiful dividers by @uzmacchiato !

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

I got this little idea last night, and been thinking about it ever since. Even tough outlaws need to have some innocent fun sometimes!

---

Hide & Seek with the Van Der Linde Gang

Arthur: Okay hider, much better seeker. His tracking skills are formidable, and he'd have no problem finding most players. Only problem is that his steps are quite loud and very recognisable, announcing his presence and giving the players a chance to get away. Is always somehow able to get out of Charles’ grip and flee, screaming “I am free!”

Charles: Being an incredible hunter, he's an excellent hider and seeker. He's, unlike Arthur, completely quiet, and is perfectly able to sneak up on people. However, he takes it way too seriously - when he's the one hiding, he even covers all the tracks after himself. When he's seeking, he hogties the players upon finding them, and brings them into a pile.

John and Javier: They originally made a deal to hide together, and serve as double lookouts. At first they're confident, but then Arthur gets too close and looks in their general direction, and John panics, and with a “Every man for himself!” pushes Javier out of their hiding spot towards Arthur, and LEGS IT.

Sean: His hiding spots are questionable at best, but he makes them work… For a short while, anyway. He's super strung up as soon as he sees the seeker, even if they're nowhere near him, and decides to try and bolt, giving himself away in a shock of red hair. 

Bill: Poor guy gets always found first. He's just too big to fit properly in most hiding spots, and he has a habit of grumbling about his discomfort at being stuck somewhere tight, so he gives himself away a few minutes into the game.

Kieran: Is also super easy to find, because he fidgets, making small noises, and gasps when a seeker gets too close. Honestly though, he's not too sad about having been found, he's just happy to be included.

Tilly and Trelawny: They are masters at hiding, and incredibly hard to spot. Tilly is able to fit and hide into places the seeker wouldn't even think to look, while Trelawny is the master of disappearing. The seeker always feels that they saw him out of the corner of their eye, but when they turn around, poof, he's just gone.

Mary-Beth: She gives herself away by giggling uncontrollably when someone gets too close, which is a shame, because she genuinely has good hiding spots.

Karen: The girl is an absolute menace, using her environment to her aid, tossing small objects around to create a sound distraction, and only lets herself be found when she decides she's thirsty and wants a drink.

Lenny: Constantly changes his hiding spots, and is quite formidable with it too. He never stays more than a few minutes in one spot, in case the seeker decided to check out wherever he is currently.

Reverend Swanson: He's not found until noon of the second day. He stumbled into some bushes, and passed out cold. The next day, Bill almost shot him, because he thought the shaking bush concealed a rabbit or something.

Sadie: Is not much of a hider. That is, she can hide really well, but finds it boring. However she is a terrifying seeker, even more so than Charles. She's fast, and she's quiet, and her “Found ya!” while revealing the hider, is just a total jump scare.

Abigail: Plays for a little bit, then lets herself be found, just so she can go relax. She's been working the whole day, let her live for heaven's sake.

Jack: Everyone 'ignores' him. Like, yes, they can hear the little kid laughing as he's only partially concealed by the door, but they pretend they don't, so that he can have fun. He ends up revealing himself when he gets bored, usually getting a “Woah! I didn't even see you!” reaction in return.

Uncle and Pearson: Decided to leave this activity to the younger folk, Uncle's lumbago is acting up, and there's no way Pearson's large muscular frame (his own words) would fit anywhere. They're playing cards outside, Uncle probably spinning some wild tale about how he once managed to hide in a rich Lady's closet all evening long, before being discovered by a maid, who however didn't give him away because he seduced her.

Molly: She doesn't really think the game is below her or anything, but she's got this new pretty dress, and she just had a bath and brushed her hair and trimmed her nails, and really, that's no way to be crawling and climbing around, trying to hide. 

Susan: Shaking her head, and hoping nobody maims themselves when they're running around. "Goddamn children, the lot of you..." She reads a good book instead. But don't go to her for hints, as she will give you a mean look and call you out for trying to cheat.

Strauss: He also doesn't join in, he's got numbers to count and books to keep, and, really, this is just silly. However, he's something of a tattler, and when the seeker walks by, he casually mentions having heard a sound from somewhere some time ago.

Micah: Bitterly sitting by himself by the campfire, mocking everyone for playing a children's game under his breath. Honestly though, he wasn't invited to join in the first place, anyway.

Hosea and Dutch: Sitting together, passing a bottle of whisky between them, just sort of watching and chucklin at the antics of their kids.

[riverashifts]

⟡ 𓂂 ˚ ☆

⌗ R1V3RASHIFTS : welcome to my (very) long dr list! don't be afraid, it doesn't bite... just letting you know i most definitely won't post about each and every one of these as some of these are more personal (or embarrassing..) than others. if you have questions about any, feel free to send an ask whenever!

꒰ྀི　K-POP　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 enhypen eighth member

⁰⁰² 𓈒 enhypen seventh member

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 enhypen twelfth member

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 enhypen eighth member (poly)

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 enhypen eighth member (gg)

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 stray kids eighth member

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 æspa fifth member

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 newjeans sixth member

⁰⁰⁹ 𓈒 (g)i-dle seventh member

⁰¹⁰ 𓈒 itzy sixth member

⁰¹¹ 𓈒 le sserafim sixth member

⁰¹² 𓈒 3racha fourth member

⁰¹³ 𓈒 tomorrow x together fifth member

⁰¹⁴ 𓈒 xdinary heroes seventh member

꒰ྀི　OWN GRP　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 bratz!

⁰⁰² 𓈒 monster high

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 idol stars (unnamed grp)

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 v.e.x

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 by the stars (bts) (vers. 1)

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 by the stars (bts) (vers. 2)

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 eclipse

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 atlantis

⁰⁰⁹ 𓈒 celeste

⁰¹⁰ 𓈒 loveloop

⁰¹¹ 𓈒 lovex

⁰¹² 𓈒 honey

⁰¹³ 𓈒 mydol / miraculous x idols

⁰¹⁴ 𓈒 marvel x idols (unnamed grp)

⁰¹⁵ 𓈒 (unnamed nct type grp)

⁰¹⁶ 𓈒 moxie / a2k

⁰¹⁷ 𓈒 girls planet 999 (unnamed grp)

⁰¹⁸ 𓈒 produce series (unnamed grp)

⁰¹⁹ 𓈒 yin&yang

⁰²⁰ 𓈒 punk punk

⁰²¹ 𓈒 retrograde

꒰ྀི　K-POP SOLOIST　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 holly

⁰⁰² 𓈒 king

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 nabi

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 star

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 quae

꒰ྀི　MIRACULOUS　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 nagara

⁰⁰² 𓈒 vespera

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 miraculous academy

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 mydol / miraculous x idols

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 miraculous (feat. idols)

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 miraculous x marvel

꒰ྀི　HOGWARTS　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 golden trio ('80 liner)

⁰⁰² 𓈒 golden trio ('76 liner)

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 golden trio / slytherin boys

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 golden trio — chosen one

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 modern golden trio

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 hogwarts (feat. idols)

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 beauxbatons student

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 canadian school student

꒰ྀི　MOVIE / SERIES　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 general marvel

⁰⁰² 𓈒 miraculous x marvel

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 marvel (feat. idols)

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 black widow

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 agatha all along

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 business proposal

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 descendants — enchantress

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 descendants — queen of hearts

⁰⁰⁹ 𓈒 descendants — mad hatter

⁰¹⁰ 𓈒 pokémon

⁰¹¹ 𓈒 outerbanks — pogue

⁰¹² 𓈒 outerbanks — kook

⁰¹³ 𓈒 outerbanks — kook-pogue

⁰¹⁴ 𓈒 the fosters

⁰¹⁵ 𓈒 ever after high

⁰¹⁶ 𓈒 criminal minds — spencer

⁰¹⁷ 𓈒 criminal minds — jemily

⁰¹⁸ 𓈒 enhypen next door

⁰¹⁹ 𓈒 h2o

⁰²⁰ 𓈒 k-12

⁰²¹ 𓈒 hometown cha cha cha

⁰²² 𓈒 narnia

⁰²³ 𓈒 spirited

⁰²⁴ 𓈒 how to train your dragon

⁰²⁵ 𓈒 part time idol

⁰²⁶ 𓈒 princess diaries

⁰²⁷ 𓈒 the princess switch

⁰²⁸ 𓈒 princess & the pop star (princess)

⁰²⁹ 𓈒 princess & the pop star (pop star)

⁰³⁰ 𓈒 the school of good and evil

⁰³¹ 𓈒 percy jackson

⁰³² 𓈒 percy jackson (feat. idols)

⁰³³ 𓈒 the thundermans

⁰³⁴ 𓈒 wizards of waverly place

⁰³⁵ 𓈒 sky high

⁰³⁶ 𓈒 squid game

⁰³⁷ 𓈒 to all the boys i've loved before

⁰³⁸ 𓈒 wednesday

⁰³⁹ 𓈒 twinkling watermelon

⁰⁴⁰ 𓈒 starstruck

⁰⁴¹ 𓈒 lemonade mouth

⁰⁴² 𓈒 shameless

⁰⁴³ 𓈒 yellowjackets

꒰ྀི　BOOK / FANFIC　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 renegades (marissa meyer)

⁰⁰² 𓈒 renegades (feat. idols)

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 the lunar chronicles (marissa meyer)

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 heartless (marissa meyer)

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 you don't have a shot (racquel marie)

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 the folk of the air (holly black)

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 shatter me (tahereh mafi)

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 chanwitch (fic)

⁰⁰⁹ 𓈒 say please (fic)

⁰¹⁰ 𓈒 hideout (fic)

⁰¹¹ 𓈒 the tale of geoji & jinsil (fic)

⁰¹² 𓈒 dollhouse (fic)

꒰ྀི　FAME　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 actress & singer

⁰⁰² 𓈒 actress (louis partridge)

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 actress (mikey madison)

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 model & actress

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 rapper

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 actress (fics to movie)

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 katseye sixth member

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 k-drama actress

⁰⁰⁹ 𓈒 nepo baby (taylor swift)

⁰¹⁰ 𓈒 nepo baby (gracie abrams)

⁰¹¹ 𓈒 1950s actress

⁰¹² 𓈒 band (unnamed atm)

⁰¹³ 𓈒 bake off competition show

⁰¹⁴ 𓈒 lifestyle reality show

⁰¹⁵ 𓈒 minecraft youtuber

⁰¹⁶ 𓈒 learn/travel/vlog

⁰¹⁷ 𓈒 author

⁰¹⁸ 𓈒 sugar baby / singer

⁰¹⁹ 𓈒 boysworld

꒰ྀི　MISC.　꒱ྀི　realities  𐙚

⁰⁰¹ 𓈒 idol school

⁰⁰² 𓈒 ideal fan / better cr

⁰⁰³ 𓈒 y/n experience / better cr

⁰⁰⁴ 𓈒 wag / better cr

⁰⁰⁵ 𓈒 concert experience

⁰⁰⁶ 𓈒 eternal summer

⁰⁰⁷ 𓈒 eternal summer (multi)

⁰⁰⁸ 𓈒 waiting room — circular room

⁰⁰⁹ 𓈒 waiting room — cloud castle

⁰¹⁰ 𓈒 waiting room — bookstore/cinema

⁰¹¹ 𓈒 waiting room — storyline

⁰¹² 𓈒 jeu imaginaire

⁰¹³ 𓈒 pirate life

⁰¹⁴ 𓈒 fantasy world — royalty

⁰¹⁵ 𓈒 fantasy world — charmed

⁰¹⁶ 𓈒 fantasy world — unnamed

⁰¹⁷ 𓈒 fantasy world — supernatural academy

⁰¹⁸ 𓈒 christmas wonderland

⁰¹⁹ 𓈒 royalty

⁰²⁰ 𓈒 women-only paradise

⁰²¹ 𓈒 boarding school

⁰²² 𓈒 idol school

⁰²³ 𓈒 farm life / minecraft irl

⁰²⁴ 𓈒 eternal childhood

⁰²⁵ 𓈒 cottage witch

⁰²⁶ 𓈒 village life

⁰²⁷ 𓈒 iykyk 😝

⁰²⁸ 𓈒 spy academy

⁰²⁹ 𓈒 college life

⟡ 𓂂 ˚ ☆

[glitteredbubbles]

9 10 Fandom Folks to Get to Know Better

Thanks so much for the tag @schofielded !!

3 Ships I Like

Okay so I’m currently writing for Anderperry so they have to be at the top of the list, Reddie is my beloved which I fear will follow me throughout my life so they’re next, and hmm idk what to put for my third one since I like to read for a lot of ships and have barely written for others. I think I’ll go with a surprise pick and say Boreo! Tragic gays for the win

First Ship Ever

Omg I actually cannot say it was too embarrassing. The first one I’m willing to say is Larry which is also embarrassing and I regret it but I fear the fanfic was so good sorry.

Last Song I Heard

Drums of Death by FKA Twigs. I am addicted, something about the beat is just so good.

Favorite Childhood Book

This is kind of hard for me because I mainly had author phases as a kid rather than just one book that I adored. Looking back, though, I would probably say The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo was my favorite. Her descriptions were so good that it made me want to eat paper like the mice.

Currently Reading

Four Minutes by Nataliya Deleva! It’s a queer Bulgarian novel I’m reading for my around the world goal and I’m really enjoying it so far!

Currently Watching

Just finished watching Swing Girls (2004) so I’m counting it since I’m between TV shows right now. Anyway the movie was so cute and feel-good, I definitely recommend!!

Currently Consuming

I had fried chicken for dinner if that’s what this is referring to. Anyway it was good!

Currently Craving

A strawberry limeade with added coconut and cream from Sonic 💔 I don’t have my car rn so I am stranded sadly

No pressure tags: @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @vinesandvellichor @good--merits-accumulated @lc-27 @axe-76 @dreadedwhim @poetrusic1959 @yawping-poets-society @scriptscraps @neilperryismine + open to anyone who wants to join!!