#friend 1 gave me corset and gloves

[steelthroat]

Tomorrow's outfit was literally a group project lol.

[starry-slithers]

since @ravenwind-75 agreed that a royalty AU would be good, here it is!

Her Sworn Protector, Part 1:

Summary: Princess Cariad and Sir Ekrizdis are in love. Their friends from other kingdoms come ❤️

Warnings: none ig. I’ve kept it pretty pg so far, good for me

Note: no beta.

Part 1:

“Princess-…” Chuckled Riz softly as she tried to adjust the flower crown on his head. They were in the palace gardens, the one place both could truly relax. Cariad had her tongue poking out as she tried to get the flimsy crown to stop sliding off his head. When she finally managed it, she lit up and grinned. 

“Perfect. A crown fit for a king!” She said proudly, stroking his jaw. He leaned into her touch and placed a gloved hand on top of hers. A cursed knight, they called him around the castle. They found it…abnormal that he couldn’t feel pain nor temperature. But Cariad had never minded. She was fascinated by it. Occasionally, she would hold his hands close and blow on them in an attempt to warm them up. His hands were rarely ungloved- to minimise scratches and injuries. But whenever they were, they would be covered in Cariad’s lipstick. 

Riz sighed contently, laying his head in her lap as she carded her fingers through his raven hair. His crimson eyes fluttered shut as he hummed in mild amusement. 

“My princess~” he purred. He honestly had more romance than half the princes who attempted to win her hand. 

“My knight.” She teased back, brushing his hair back to kiss his forehead. His hand immediately went to the back of her neck to gently tug her down for a proper one. She giggled against his lips and kissed back, smiling.

“Mmmm…I love you, my brave vampire knight.” She tended to call him ‘vampire’ or ‘Ghostie’ because he was so pale. He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest which Cariad adored. He grabbed her waist to pull her to lay on top  of him, her head on his chest and his hand cradling the back of her head, stroking her blonde hair. 

He never thought he’d be here. Laying in a field of flowers with the princess. Princess Cariad, to be precise. 

“Your flower crown is ruined.” She pointed out.

“We can fix it later darling. Don’t you have a ball to get ready for?” He teased. Cariad laughed and pushed him away playfully before Riz pulled her back.

“Hey, c’mere.” He laughed.

They heard the familiar sound of servants bustling past. One of them was coming their way so they scrambled apart. It wasn’t like people didn’t know they were in love. Just a glance at them could tell you that. They just didn’t want to be caught in such an intimate position- knowing the press would love a scandal. 

It was Cariad’s handmaiden, Mildred, who curtseyed to the pair. 

“Princess Cariad, my lady, Sir Mors. Princess Sylvia, Prince Sylvan, lady Poppy and Avania the knight have arrived safely and shall be present at the ball this evening.”

Cariad let out a very un-princess like squeal of excitement. She relished every time she got to see her friends from other kingdoms. “And shall you be attending Mildred? Perhaps with Ominis? We do so love your company. It’ll be dull without you.”

Mildred smiled. “Perhaps, your highness.” She squeezed Cariad’s hand and gave another small bow before leaving to finish helping with ball preparations. 

“Well. Looks like we have to go and get ready my dear.” Riz smiled, scooping Cariad into a bridal carry. She was so used to it by now that she just laughed and cuddled into him as he carried her to her chambers. 

Cariad had to come in to help him with his hair, but it ended up with her hand exploring under his shirt, and lipstick all over the top half of his chest. He gave her a quick, firm kiss before telling her to finish getting ready, seeing as she was only in her petticoat, corset and corset cover. 

She looked radiant, as always, when she descended the stairs. He reached his hand out to her and she gladly took it. He pulled her closer and kissed her hand.

“Such a gentleman.” She teased, loving how traditional and distinguished he was.

“Only for you, my love. Everyone else can kiss my ass.” He smirked, pressing his face into her hair and inhaling deeply before kissing it and guiding her to the ballroom. She was about to get dragged away for formal duties but before, she held out two ribbons. The usual light green ones she wore with her pigtails. She tied one around his wrist.

“It’s so those other princesses know that Sir Ekrizdis Mors, the kingdoms hottest knight, isn’t up for grabs.” She said, when she noticed his confused, yet amused look. 

As her appointed knight, it was his job to watch her, and he watched like a hawk as she mingled and made small talk, entertaining the people trying to suck up to her and form and alliance. 

That’s when she saw her friends. She immediately rushed over and suddenly she wasn’t a princess anymore. She was just a young woman who was excited to see her friends. Riz shook his head lightly and smiled fondly before going to join her as she gushed to her friends. Avania and Sylvia had been hanging on the sidelines, not the best in big social situations, whereas Poppy and Sylvan were dancing enthusiastically and getting pointed looks from the stuck up nobles. Mildred and Ominis were at the drinks table socialising. And all the while Riz had his hand casually on Cariad’s hip, rubbing the bone with his thumb.

She noticed Avania and Sylvia and gently took their hands, leading them to the balcony where they could breathe and get some air while also enjoying the music. Cariad then went and got some drinks for everyone and the whole squad later went to the balcony. Cariad knew better than to drink at a royal event so she was sipping on some pineapple juice whereas the others had alcoholic beverages, mainly a simple wine or a gin and tonic. 

She was sat pretty on Riz’s lap, facing her friends as she gushed about recent events, working hard to ignore her boyfriends- was he really her boyfriend? The word seemed too small for what they were…- large hands rubbing her stomach and his breath on her neck. 

“Sylvia came to watch me jousting the other day…” Avania mused. She was the best female night across the land, as well as Sylvia’s girlfriend. 

“Did you win?” Asked Sylvan. Avania shot him a look that said ‘what do you think?’

“Of course I did.” 

“Cocky.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Poppy, Mildred and Ominis seemed to be deep in discussion. Which was no surprise seeing as Ominis was Cariad’s advisor and Poppy was environmental representative as well as Sylvan’s wife. They were probably discussing world matters and how to implement certain bans. Mildred was chipping in with her own ideas often. As Cariad’s handmaiden, she was also her closest confident, so Mildred knew a lot about the kingdoms court. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Thats all I had motivation for tonight. As always, Riz, Sylvan, Sylvia and Mildred belong to the wonderful @rene-hl-trashcan

The urge to write a CaRiz royalty AU:

(riz belongs to @rene-hl-trashcan)

[gray-isnt-real]

A Night Off . . . Pt. 3

🪲 Pt. 1 🪲

🌱 Pt. 2 🌱

🖋 Writing Excerpt Below Art!! 🖋⬇️

“You know, Zach, with all those excuses you’ve been givin’ me, I never thought I’d see you again!~”

The brunette man sat down right across from the three villains, grinning wide and unbothered by the sudden tension that hung heavy in the air. Zach was clearly trying not to make eye contact for too long, sipping his champagne to keep himself occupied. Donita and Gourmand looked between each other. This was weird, right? One of their hosts of the event, who they didn’t even recognize, had just come to sit down and addressed Zach as a friend or a one-time date from months ago. He seemed to be comfortable in this situation, acting as though he was sitting with a group of old friends when he hadn’t even said hello or introduced himself properly.

“I guess ‘excuse’ isn’t a good word to use- one can’t help a crash landing in the Savanna! Is it nice out there?” the young man rambled on, neon green eyes boring right into the inventor. He then glanced between the two villains on either side. How delightful, all three of them being here tonight!

“I don’t believe we’ve had the honor of meeting yet- Christophoros Kratt. Most people prefer to call me Chris, Martin prefers to call me ‘trouble’,” he introduced himself with that bright grin, reaching out to shake hands with Donita and Gourmand. “A pleasure to meet you both, Miss Donita Donata, Gaston Gourmand-“

“So you’ve heard of us,” Gourmand said, glancing at Donita. He wasn’t sure what to make of this Chris character quite yet.

“Well, one has to research potential business partners!”

Potential business partners? The three villains suddenly perked up the idea. Zach looked up at the brunette, all embarrassment and sense of uncertainty out the window. Gourmand was intrigued by the suggestion, and Donita gave a questioning look. This performer wanted to strike some sort of business deal with them- why? For what? What could they possibly have that he wanted?

“Business partners?” Zach parroted in surprise. “Since when did you wanna do business?”

“And why?” Donita added.

Chris’s grin seemed plastered on his face. He readjusted his gloves, which were starting to loosen and bunch up. How annoying.

“Oh, my brother and I have been wanting to do business with the three of you for a while now, since Zach started attending my shows and he’s told me so much about you both- speaking of which, you really oughta make time to see me outside business hours, dear,” he rambled on, leaning forward in his seat. His corset made it difficult, but he supposed he could manage. He barely paid attention to the inventor going red in the face, and his friends looking at him questioningly. Dear?!

“Martin should be here to discuss details with you all sometime after performances start. He handles that end of the shit,” he continued with a laugh.

Performances... That’s right, there was going to be entertainment after the auctions, which surely wouldn’t be long. Then again, the wealthier the bidder, the more they’re willing to bid. But then, if there was entertainment and little performances tonight, why was Chris here wasting his time with them when he could’ve been preparing himself for later that night?

“We’d be glad to get into details later- but I’m sure you have more important things to do, don’t you?” Donita questioned. “Not to chase you off-!”

“Oh no, you’re fine. If you want the truth? I just get in everybody’s way when I go backstage,” the siren confessed, rolling his eyes. “Big brother’s a control freak and I’m usually the chaos factor, so he prefers it when I run off to do Zeus-knows-what. Besides, I’m not performing tonight- shocking, isn’t it?”

“Why the hell not? You’d be a great opener,” Zach immediately butted in.

“Well, duh!~ Buuuuut I gotta throw Martin off his game,” he retorted with a smirk. “Imagine his surprise when he finds out at the last minute, I gave myself the night off and he’s the opening act instead! Come on, you gotta admit, it’d be at least a little bit funny!”

Maybe to Chris it was funny, but not to the blonde brother behind the scenes. However, the villains wouldn’t have known. The night went on. Dinner and drinks were provided, and they got to know more about this Chris Kratt, and he got to know more about each of them in return. He actually made good company, despite his boisterous behavior and his lack of understanding of boundaries. And he had a lot to say; that was almost entertainment in itself, listening to him ramble on about a childhood memory and then veering off to a whole different topic. It was actually quite comical.

Of course, he let the others get a word in. He was aware he could go on and on for quite a while before anyone could get the chance the talk, and he didn’t want to be so rude as not to let them speak. Now that was just terrible behavior on his part if he took over the conversation. Over all, though, it was a wonderful time, getting to know them all, hearing embarrassing stories of their defeats and childhoods- and Chris giving them the same courtesy, sharing embarrassing stories of his own and old memories until the auctions came about.

Auctions came and went. It really wasn’t much to begin with; jewels and antiques that many monsters had donated to the auction were shown off and sold for much more than they were likely worth, but no one really mentioned it whenever they heard “Sold!” echo across the room.

• • •

The blonde man looked through the list held tight on his clipboard, glancing at the stage and back. The last item had just been sold off, a gentle applause echoing through the ballroom. They were coming up to the entertainment. Miss Roşu would say her piece, applause, Chris would open up the performances- Wait a minute.

“Elena? Could you look at this for me?” the siren called to the vampire across the backstage area, making a beckoning motion. The silver-haired woman gestured to one of the performers that she’d be with them in a moment, and quickly made her way over. Everything had been going so smoothly and now something needed to be looked at? Towards the end of the main part of the event? Just lovely.

“What is it?”

“Right here, for the opening. Who’s name is that?”

The young woman had to read it over twice, maybe three times to be sure.

“That’s...that’s yours.”

[descendantsramblings]

Style Headcanons

So basically, I’m a big hater to the way the costume team worked on them. The whole “All Isle kids wear Leather” and “Auradon Kids always look like they’re on their first kid and on the way to the country club” thing drives me crazy. It sorta feels like they made costumes before giving them personalities (The leather on Carlos  and Evie feels like it clashes with their personalities. Lonnie’s dresses in the first movie doesn’t fit the personality we see, even though she didn’t have much of a personality until movie two. Audrey dressed like a thirty-four year old mother who just picked up her kid before going to the country club. Ben’s only good outfit was his swim trunks.) So here are some personal headcanons and pictures of what I imagine for them. (I started making them at 1am last night lol)

Villain Kids 

Evie

As someone raised to want to be a princess, she wants to dress like how she imagines a princess would.

She loves pastels and is no stranger to pairing pastel blue with a neutral red or bright white. 

The only pants she really wears are either athletic shorts or those little flowy elastic shorts, otherwise she’s all skirts.

She’s sorta a prep but not in the same way a character like Audrey would be. 

Evie has respect for most aesthetics, even though she doesn’t fully fit just one. However, she hates crocs and those little pastel shorts that white boys wear, she will announce it often.

Wouldn’t be caught dead in neon colors. 

owns a blue fur coat (it’s fake fur, obviously)

Carlos

Baby boy is a total softie

You know that one gay little sweater in movie one, that’s where they went right, more of that.

He’s into the soft boy aesthetic and only strays from it for formal wear

loves layering sweaters over button ups

Cuffed jeans, always because ya know, bisexual 

Owns a floral button up from Jay, normally he hates patterned button ups but it’s his favorite shirt. 

Loves striped sweaters, he owns about 6 variations of them in different colors (all include red, white, or black of course)

Jay 

In theory, Jay doesn’t really have one aesthetic, he’s willing to try on just about anything

Most of his clothing was bought by Evie or Carlos, especially his formal wear

The only clothes that Jay will buy for himself is athletic wear

He doesn’t really see the point of buy clothing that he can’t go straight to practice in. 

Still has the beanie,  but he owns one in just about every color to match it to his outfit.

Listen, we know Jay’s main color is yellow/gold, but why did we always see him with more red/blue in the movie? What type of snow white aesthetic were they trying to give him?

Jay owns a button up that he write on, he refuses to wear it actually buttoned though

Mal

She loves the grunge/alternative aesthetic, she thinks it makes her look more like she belongs to the Isle

She wouldn’t wear skirts until after she and Evie became friends, Evie bought her her first skirt (a purple plaid one) and she fell in love with it

Mal has a whole jewelry box of just chains, both necklaces and ones that attach to clothing 

Owns a pair of Demonia Swing-815 boots (black patent) and a pair of Demonia Camel-203 boots (holographic purple) 

100% owns one of those studded hot topic belts. 

Has a headband with little horns that symbolize her mother’s horns 

Instead of the leather half gloves from the movie, she has those little fishnet gloves and covers her hands in rings.

Uma

Her style is similar to Mal’s because if Mal is going to do something, Uma will do it better.

Uma only wore outfits that were super Fem and had skirts until Mal started doing it

Then it was Uma always wearing pants, because of her love for plaid skirts she owns a whole collection of plaid pants

the only jeans she owns are black or dark wash. 

Her first ever large purchase was a pair of Doc Marten 1460 Zip Tartan Lace up boots (they’re green, black, and blue plaid) 

She and Harry bought matching Doc Marten Jadon platforms (his are more shiny though)

Isn’t as into chains as Mal, more into chockers. 

Harry 

When the E-boy aesthetic came out, Harry was all over it 

Harry definitely has one of those chains with a little lock on it. 

I’d like to imagine he has baby gauges

the before mentioned platform doc martens, he definitely treats them like his baby

Even though Harry dresses like an e-boy,  he always has his pirate hat on

Definitely wears cloth masks as a fashion piece he actually would wear his in the pandemic though, unlike some people who wore them before but not for safety 

Harry is actually really good at graphic liner, he owns a gold, red, and white eyeliner to add color to the outfit if it’s mainly black

gold>silver 

Bought plaid pants because Uma did, he want’s to match with his captain

Gil 

As we know (maybe you don’t) it’s in the canon that Gil’s mother taught him to sew and he enjoys it. 

So Gil doesn't dress in one aesthetic or even close to being in one, he wants to try out everything, both making and wearing them.

He does stick to a monochrome color scheme though, mainly shades of brown with white or black thrown in. Sometimes he adds a little red or yellow though to “honor” Gaston

Most of his clothing is more comfortable than anything

Only owns three pairs of jeans, the rest are different types of pants (he loves corduroys) 

Owns a pants chain that harry bought him but he only really wears it when Harry and Uma are wearing one so he won’t feel left out on it. 

Dizzy 

Baby girl has seen the Isle steal the childhood innocence from people, she dresses in kidcore as a way to keep hers

Her outfits always has at least 4 different colors in it.

No stranger to neon colors, she has a pair of overalls that are neon rainbow and covered in gummy candy and she only wears them with a neon green tee, Evie and Carlos hate this outfits, Jay loves it because of the disappointment it brings to the two fashion fans 

Dizzy’s outfits in the movie were colorful obviously but they should have been just more over the top

She loves patterns and has no fear of pattern mixing

definitely owns some funky earrings, clay rings, and  statement necklaces

puts beads on her shoe laces, especially on her converse (they were white ones, she drew all over them) 

Auradon Kids 

Ben

Okay so Ben’s animated and movie outfits were bad, you can’t convince me of anything else

Why was Ben not dressed in the soft boy aesthetic? You’re trying to tell me that Belle’s son wouldn’t be a soft boy?

He has a jean jacket with his father’s beast symbol painted on the back

Absolutely loves graphic crewnecks, often layers them over collared shirts

He and Carlos go shopping together often in their free time

Lover of funky crew socks,  ones with paintings, patterns, logos, whatever. But his socks always match

After he and Mal started Dating, he bought a white jean jacket and let her paint it, he wears it all the time even though it didn’t match his original clothing, he bought more clothes in her color scheme to match it

He owns like 6 pairs of high top converse (light blue, yellow, white, navy, black, and Purple after getting the jacket back from Mal)

Chad

Listen, out of everyone he was the closest to how I imagined he should be, that being said, he had a little soft boy thing going on in some movies that I don’t think fit his personality

Polos and button ups are basically all he owns, but he does have some of those pastel simply southern esc graphic tees (Southern people probably know what I’m on about, all the guys who act like Chad at my school have like 5 of them each)

Owns 6 pairs of those horrid little southern boy pastel shorts in different shades of blue (plus 1 white pair)

Will not wear jeans, ever, the only pants he owns are khakis

All over the shirts that have logos embroidered into the shirt over the chest. 

Definitely gets asked if he’s on the way to golf/ the country club, the joke is that he is, he has to meet his father there after school

prep.jpg

Audrey 

Listen, I’m not an Audrey stan, but they did her so dirty in the first movie

She should have been the stereotypical mean girl outfit wise, I mean, mini skirts, all pastels

Owns a pink teddy coat, and a white one, she actually cares about if they get dirty though, takes good care of them

definitely has a collection of tennis skirts, pairs them with sweaters/crewnecks or blouses that have a slight puff to the sleeve

The type of girl to wear rufflely rompers on her birthday every year, pink, white, or baby blue obviously

loves those tiny shoulder bags

preppy and looks good in it. 

cropped polos and tube tops

Jane

This account is a Jane should have been cottage core/ fairy core fan page, her outfits were almost there, just not there, she’s literally a fairy but can’t use magic nor did they let her dress like one, I hate it here

Baby girl loves gingham and floral patterns, some of her dresses are a little more to her mother’s taste than hers (her mother bought them) but as long as it’s a pattern she likes she will wear it. 

Cardigans are her best friend, she owns one in multiple shades of pink and blue, plus a white one (all of her clothing fits a pastel pink/blue/white color scheme)

Babydoll dresses her a her favorite style of them (the one I put in the top right corner is what I imagine her birthday dress as) 

People try to mockingly ask if she’s on her way to a tea party/picnic (like they do with Chad and the country club) if the answer isn’t actually yes one of her friends still say yes, no one can be rude to her about it 

She owns a corset (Evie bought it for her, it made her nervous at first but she loves it) 

Owns kitten heels and flats mainly also two pairs of mary janes (in white and blue) 

has one of those little pearl purses that aren’t really useful but they’re cute 

Lonnie

Last but not least, our funky little lesbian (she is, Jay is just her emotional support queer man) Lonnie, she sticks to the teal, blue, and pink color scheme they gave her in movie one

She mainly wears sweats (or athletic clothing) otherwise it’s graphic tees tucked in (many of them are from the men’s section) 

Only wears sneakers, she has places to be but also collects them (also owns 1 pair of pink crocs, Evie tried to burn them)

Carlos and Ben talked her into wearing a collar shirt under a graphic tee once (they bought her a sleeveless button up which she hated at first) and now she does it anytime she wants to look like she put effort into her outfit. 

Wears a lot of necklaces and rings (she loves to layer necklaces, she thinks it makes her sweats look less boring) 

Uses a mini backpack instead of a purse, easier to carry more things.

Has two pairs of custom painted air forces. 

Hates wearing bracelets but always has to have a hair tie on her wrist so they don’t feel empty .

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 20/?

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: Y/N - your name

***IMPORTANT*** The Criminal Psychology majors will be taking a temporary hiatus as I’m getting my second dose of the vaccine today<3 I don’t know when I’ll be coming back because I don’t want to burn myself out on this series just to give content while I’m gone, yknow

Warnings: Swearing, Forgetfulness, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

They danced and sung the night away at the Gala. It ended at around 2:00am and everyone went back to the Wayne Manor. 

Somehow it came out that they should play Uno of all things. Uno is known for being the “Friendship Ruiner” or the “Relationship Ruiner” of the world. So, of course, they played it. Why wouldn't they?

Y/N dealt the cards. She was not quick about it. At all. She really struggled to deal the cards to the entire group, but she still tried. It was the thought that counted. Or at least she thought it did.

But no one seemed to mind she was a little slower with her cards-dealing. Which was different to the up-beat, face-paced life all of them lead. One would have expected that they would want a crazy fast dealer, but no one cared.

They played well into the night, with Jason ending up tapping-out and laying in Y/N’s lap. She played with his hair and leaned down to show him the good cards she got, at least until he fell asleep. She spent the time bonding with his family. 

They had always liked her. From the first time they all met her, they knew she was going to be something real. They were even impressed that Jason and her hadn’t fought yet. They were both hot-headed when they wanted to be, so when it was obvious that they put the relationship ahead of their own prides, it was something else.

They knew of the first time they had one of these moments. Y/N was at a dance competition, but Jason had to dip because of “Family Issues”, she was upset. Of course, she wanted him there and it looked like they were going to get into a huge spat about it. But, when she won that competition, she got up there and she said,

“This one is for my family, my friends, the extension of my family,” she paused, “And my boyfriend, Jason.” She smiled, “He isn’t here right now because of family issues, but he told me to follow my dreams, and here I am,” she said while raising her medal slightly, “This one was for you, baby.”

And that’s when his family knew that pride was stupid to them. Relationships are growing, changing together. And while they both stayed hot-headed, they changed that slight detail in themselves to be better partners. It was admirable.

Y/N ended up winning the last game. Half of the Waynes were sleeping, either at the coffee table where they were playing or in their rooms. She glanced over to the clock, 6:00am. She knew her parents were getting up soon, so she texted her mom,

Hey mum! So do you still want Jay and I to come over for the barbeque? 

And she nudged him a little. Everyone else had left the room, so she was trying to wake him up. So they could go to his room. He groaned.

“Baby, do you want to sleep in your bed?” she whisper-asked him, leaning down to his ear and stroking his hair. He groaned and got up, started walking to his room. She followed suit. He was on his bed and passed out before she even got up there.

She laughed and walked over to him, fumbling with his suit jacket. He mumbled something about taking him on a date first, and she laughed again.

“C’mon, work with me here, you’re going to be uncomfortable if you sleep in your suit, my love.”

He groaned and took off his jacket before unbuttoning his shirt, while she got his belt undone.

“God, take me on a date first,” he mumbled.

“Shh,” she said, placing a finger over his lips, “Just go to bed, Jay.”

He sloppily kissed her neck before she cupped his face and used her position to straddle him to the bed. She kissed his forehead before getting off of him and going through his clothes. She needed something, a shirt, pants, anything she could wear.

She fumbled with getting her own dress and gloves off, ending up throwing the dress over his desk chair, hoping it would minimize wrinkling. She undid her corset and threw it on his desk. Her heels were sitting at his desk chair. The gloves on his desk.

She crawled into bed with him, being the big spoon, burying her face behind his neck. She pulled out her phone to look at her texts. One from Artemis,

Hey, dude. That dress, oh my God?

She laughed into Jason’s shoulder and sent back,  I know. I know. I know. I killed it. You can’t say I didn’t.

You’re literally so right because again, oh my God. You did NOT need to wipe the floor with the rest of the guests. I mean, Selina was there and you were on her level.

That’s impressive. Selina is stunning. But I’d argue I was just below every Wayne lady.

Well, eventually you’ll be a Wayne lady.

C’mon. It’s been 6 months. 

You say that like the thought hasn’t crossed your mind at least once.

Yeah, but I don’t talk to anyone about it. 

You should start talking about it. Most people think about their weddings.

Okay, anyway. Why are you up so early?

I was studying most of the night with Wally.

Ah, “Studying”. Nice.

I wish! No, we were actually studying. Not like you and Jay at your little Gala. Actually had to study.

I have to study too, but exams are like next week.

Wish I could relate. Mine are today. 

And you didn’t sleep? Dude.

Shh, you’re not my mom.

She laughed and fell asleep cuddling Jason. Her phone was opened, so it died. 

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

Jason woke up first. Looking at the time, it was 12:00pm. Y/N was sleeping behind him, still loosely holding him. He smiled. He hoped that the night before had fixed some of the issues between them. Well, he hoped there was no issues.

He didn’t want work to be more stressful than it already was. But, they were having issues. He thought it was because of finals, but he feared there was more to it. Maybe it was the fact that he’s famous. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn’t handle the fame. He hoped it wasn’t anything to do with the fame.

But the comment about the people with daggers at her throat obviously wasn't about anyone else. It was the press. He knew she had issues with the press. He always would. She always would.  He wouldn’t blame her if she walked away from him because of the press. Break up or a break, she was allowed to give up because of the press. He hoped she didn’t. He hoped she never would. He didn’t want to jinx them, but he really, really, hoped that this wouldn’t end in flames.

He looked at her. He remembered the first moment he knew he loved her. They were having dinner at this hole-in-the-wall restaurant that he had seen on patrol one night. She was scarfing down the food, and he wiped away the mess on her face with his thumb. He knew then. He knew in that moment that that was it. She was it. 

He was whipped and he knew it. But every time his siblings or dad brought it up, he mentioned current or past relationships they had. The only people who weren’t whipped in the Wayne household were the women.

Or maybe the all were, they were just good at hiding it. He turned around and cuddled her back He stroked her hair. He ran his fingers through her hair. 

She did it to him a lot. Physical affection was something that he was used to at this point. He still didn’t know how to feel about it, but he had ended up letting Dick hug him more often. He didn’t say it was because of her, because she didn’t outright run up to him expecting hugs, she was okay with hand holding and small touches of affection. It wasn’t because of her that he started letting people in.

But he did think she was a turning point for him. For his affection. His love style. She gave a damn about him and made it clear. It wasn’t like love he was used to, but it also opened his mind to people trying to love him.

She shifted around a bit. She ended up turning her back to Jason so he became the big spoon, and he buried his face in her hair. She groaned and tugged at the blanket on his bed, pulling it onto the two of them. He helped her get it on them. She groaned again.

“You up?” he whispered.

“No... I’m in deep sleep,” she said with a slur to her speech.

“My mistake, really.”

“It is.”

He pulled her closer, “Can you wake up?”

“No.”

“That’s sad. I wanted to talk.”

“You can talk.”

“Okay so,” he said, “I realised something. Some people would say you’re changing me, that I’m becoming someone else because of you,” he paused, “I’d have to disagree. You’re not doing anything.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re just inspiring me to do better. You influence me. You don’t intentionally go in and change me, I change because I love you.”

“That’s nice honey.”

“You could pretend you’re interested in what I have to say, my love.”

“I’m tired, Jay.”

“I danced you to Hell, I guess.”

She groaned, “I guess I can’t go back to bed, now,” she flexed her wrist, “You’ve interrupted my sleep.”

He cuddled in closer to her, “I am not sorry.”

“Of course you’re not, why would you be?” she said while she turned to face him, “You just want to see me.”

“Damn, you got me.”

She yawned, “We need to study eventually.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I just did.”

“School’s annoying. It’s on every last never but also none of them. It’s stressful but I also met you from it. It’s something I excel at but also causes me pain.”

“I know, babe. I know,” she said as she searched for her phone, finding it, dead and under her leg. “Fuck, killed my phone.”

“Where did you even have that all night?”

“Dress has pockets. But I didn’t bring my charger,” she sighed. “I had texted my mum too.”

“Texted your mom about what?”

“She wants us to go to a family barbeque after exams.”

“That’s so suburban of your family.”

“Yet they live in a massive city. I guess you'll see my family? you like them, don't you?” she asked. 

He had met her family in January of that year. He got along with her mom and dad, in spite of the language barrier between him and her dad. There was difficulty understanding each other, but they got along in their love for rock music. It warmed Y/N’s heart.

Her mom liked him just because he made her happy. They didn’t really need to get along, but they did. They both cooked, and her mom had dragged him into helping her when Y/N was watching figure skating with her dad. Apparently they hit it off.

“I have literally no idea,” he said.

“How do you not know?”

“Your sister has something off about her.”

“You know, that’s fair. I don’t blame you for that one.”

“Yeah, have you noticed she’s very... obsessed with vigilantes?”

“And you thought I was obsessed,” she joked, “Yeah, she takes it a little too far. The whole, “I want to marry a vigilante to infiltrate and kill them” thing was obviously a joke, but I feel like there was some truth to it. That scares me.”

“Thank God I’m not the only one.”

“If you don’t like her, don’t worry about it. i don’t care if you like her.  We’ve had  a difficult relationship all or lives. If you can be civil, it’s a win.”

“Did you have an ex openly hate your sister?”

“Yep. And he’s an ex for a reason.”

“That’s fair. I would hate it if someone openly hated one of my siblings.”

“Unless it’s Dami.”

“Unless it’s Dami, that’s very true.”

“Still don’t know what you have against that kid, he’s very sweet.”

“That’s what he wants you to think.”

“Well, then its working.”

“What a master manipulator,” he laughed. “It’s the principle of the matter, Y/N.”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Y/N,” she mocked.

“Okay listen,” he laughed, “It is. He’s a menace.”

“But you love him.”

“It’s unfortunate. He's my brother, but he is also whatever. I don’t know. He’s amazing, he’s a genius, but who knows. Maybe one day we won’t fight all the time.”

“Imaging hoping you don’t fight with your sibling.”

“Family issues, amirite?”

She groaned and got over him, “Where are you going?” he asked.

“Fuck, I don’t know. Just need to get up, to be fair.”

“Coffee?”

“Eh, probably not.”

“That’s new.”

“You betcha. I don’t feel the affects of caffeine withdrawal yet.” She looked at her dress, it was wrinkled. Which was whatever. She knew it was going to happen. She went searching for all her stuff and put it on his desk. It was spread all out over his room, she didn’t know how it happened.

“How did your shit end up everywhere?” he asked.

“Probably the same way that all your shit ended up everywhere? I have no idea.”

“What, did we fuck?”

“No!” she laughed, “Do you not remember?”

“Days are blurring together, so.”

“Well that’s not... normal?”

[photogirl894]

For getting to know the OC

13, 24, 34, 43, 1 (specifically I want to know how she reacts to clothes getting caught on the door handle. It's important to me. 😅)

🥰🖤🥰🖤

Deathy, you crack me up! 🤣

Well, for my OC, Kimber...

1. What is your character's reaction to a minor inconvenience? Such as getting their jumper caught on a door handle?

I gave this a lot of thought since you said this was so important to you and I wanted to give you a deep, honest answer...

Kimber would be embarrassed no matter what, cuz seriously, how does that kind of thing even happen? Her embarrassment would increase depending on if there were witnesses. Hunter, Tech or Wrecker would probably offer to help get her clothes detached from the door...Echo and Crosshair would stand there and laugh as she tries to do it herself 😜

13. Describe your character's typical wardrobe for the regular day.

Well, she would have two kinds of regular days.

One would be a day while on missions with the Bad Batch. In which case, she'd be wearing her armor, which you can see her design here on this post I made months back!

Her second kind of regular day would be just when they're taking off time on another planet. Then she's got civvies she wears which I described as such in chapter 4: "a long-sleeved, cream-colored blouse, a mahogany leather corset vest, leather gloves that matched, brown trousers and darker brown boots".

24. What are your character's special skills?

Kimber is a very skilled sniper with a record range longer than Crosshair's, having practiced shooting womprats on Tatooine with her sniper rifle. She's also been trained by Rex and the Bad Batch with blasters and hand to hand combat. She's very compassionate, understanding and is incredibly loyal. She's unafraid to stand up for her friends, even having put herself in front of a blaster and willing to risk her life to protect them. She's a fast and able learner and wants to do right by her squad.

34. Can your character drive? If so, what kind of driver are they? If not what's their preferred manner of transport?

Um...she could probably drive a speederbike, but otherwise, no. She hasn't learned how to pilot the Marauder and frankly, doesn't really want to cuz Tech and Echo do it so well already.

43. What is their DND alignment?

Chaotic good, 100%!!

OC Ask Game

[mummybear]

Yes Sir... (1/?)

Authors: @mummybear​ & @lettersofwrittencollective​​

Words: 3440 Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x OC (Rebekah Grey), Stiles Stilinski x OC (Rebekah Grey) x Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester x OC (Rebekah Grey) Warnings: Swearing, Spanking, Dirty Talk A/N: Hey guys, so this is an ongoing collab. If you would like to be added to the tag list and aren’t already, please send myself or Nat a message or an ask, so we know to add you. At the moment we don’t have a scheduled for when we will post, but we’ll let you know if that changes! Please let us know what you think!! 

So of course tonight of all nights she had gotten off of work late, the bar had been completely packed and her boss almost didn’t let her leave. Until he was reminded that she had booked the entire day off, Rebekah Grey didn’t take shit from anyone. Something which her man loved about her. “Stiles, have you seen my dress!” she called urgently, as she ran back into their room for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. 

Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle at her, running around in that skimpy underwear. Slipping off the bed slightly he pulled her body against his, “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay” he mumbled against her lips, hands running across her bare back. The stern look on her face said everything that she didn’t, Stiles sighed pointing over to their dresser where the dress hung from the door. She pecked his cheek with a grin, Stiles rolled his eyes dropping back onto the bed but he was still smiling, she just knew exactly how to work him.

Besides, he wanted her to have fun tonight. It wasn’t often that the girls got a chance to hang out, just them - it was almost always as a pack. But Malia was getting married and tonight was her bachelorette. The girls had demanded that they be allowed to enjoy it as normal people and Stiles wouldn’t stop her from going out. 

After she had slipped into her knee length dress, Rebekah came back into the room that she shared with Stiles. The emerald dress was form fitting and fit her like a glove. Grabbing a silver pair of heels, she looked at her boyfriend of 5 years, “So, what do you think?” 

Stiles climbed off the bed, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “As always, you look gorgeous. Just don’t have too much fun,” Stiles joked with a smile as she turned in his arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“Now that Stiles, is something that I can’t promise. However, when I come home you’ll get all of the benefits” Rebekah returned with a grin, which Stiles quickly returned, pressing his lips to hers, causing her to sigh softly and practically melt against him. They were pulled apart by the sound of a horn honking outside their house. 

Rebekah pulled away from her boyfriend and could hear him groan at the loss. Chuckling softly, she grabbed her handbag for the night, “Looks like my ride’s here.”

She waited patiently for Stiles, who got up to walk her out to the car. It was one of his things as an agent, he always wanted to know whatever he could about where she was going - just in case something happened. As soon as the door opened, she could feel his shock mirror her own, before he chuckled, “Well, it seems Malia went all out tonight.”

In front of her stood a black limo. Rebekah knew that Malia had planned on having fun tonight and the girl had said she had gotten a car but it hadn’t occurred to Rebekah that it would be a limo. 

Giving Stiles a kiss, she quickly climbed into the backseat and the girls made their way downtown. 

“Where the hell are we?” Rebekah laughed, looking around at the group of girls as they all climbed out of the limo in front of a strange bar she didn’t recognise. It was nice for a change of pace, but it was just so different from anything she was used to, even from the outside.

“You’ll love it” Malia grinned linking arms with her, Rebekah loved seeing her best friend this happy, if anyone deserved it, then it was her. Trusting Malia, she nodded apprehensively as Lydia joined them at the door with a giddy Kira. Lydia gave the door man their names, and he moved aside with the red rope allowing them entry.

Once they walked inside, Rebekah was surprised to find that there were a few things out and about. In the center of the room was a raised platform that worked as a stage, and throughout the room were plenty of couches and areas where people could just relax. There were a few random X’s scattered in the room that she thought were a bit odd but it did give the place a more exciting, slightly dangerous, vibe.

There were hallways that seemed to lead to other areas, each a different colour. 

“Mal?” Rebekah called out, watching as the were-coyote’s lips turned into a very, very intriguing smirk. 

“I figured we’d try something completely new.  Ladies! Welcome to Desires of the Night!”

It took Rebekah all of two seconds to figure out where she knew the name. It was further confirmed when she realised that random X’s she had seen weren’t actually X’s, but Saint Andrew’s crosses scattered for one’s viewing pleasure. Malia had actually reserved them an area with a great view of the stage and their own Saint Andrew’s cross. 

An unexpected thrill ran through Rebekah as she continued to glance around. The pictures hanging on the walls were back-lit, most of the pictures in this room at least showed women in various positions, seemingly in submission to god-like men who towered over them. There were some pictures of males as well but one of the pictures in particular had her biting into her lip. 

It showed a woman who had been seemingly thrown on a large bed, her hands had been tied behind her back and a man behind her stood between her legs. He had her hair wrapped around his large fist, the other hand was gripping onto the bindings on her wrists, everything was pulled so tightly that the woman’s back was arched and Rebekah couldn’t stop imagining herself as the girl on the bed. 

She soon spotted a shadowy figure exiting through the glowing red hallway. A shirtless guy appeared slowly, her breath caught in her throat, recognising the man from the photo that was currently giving her so much trouble. He oozed authority and demanded attention without saying a word. The crowd around the stage including their group grew almost silent the closer he got, but he wasn’t alone. 

There was a woman with him, one that was covered in a red and black corset and sheer black stockings, along with a pair of panties that Rebekah was sure was made of satin.  She followed this man, just a few steps behind him and when he came to the stage, she stayed a full pace behind him, her head held high, her shoulders proud.

He made a motion with his hand, that Rebekah did not recognise, before setting his hand out. The woman seemed to immediately understand what it was that the man wanted as she took his hand and used it to steady herself as she made her way onto the stage. Once she got to the center, the woman sunk down to her knees. 

It was a position that did not look like it could have been comfortable, her chest pushed outwards and her hands behind her head as she knelt in the center of the rounded stage.  

Rebekah watched with rapt attention as the man walked around her body with a smirk on his lips, he had perfect white teeth that soon became visible. He looked around at the audience surrounding them,  licking his lips before speaking. “Good evening ladies, my name is Dean. You will all refer to me as Mr. Winchester,” he said clearly, his voice echoing throughout the room.  As much as Rebekah hated to admit it, the sound of this man’s voice, the power and the command, shot straight to her core. 

She was a little lost in her thoughts when a chorus of ‘Yes Mr. Winchester” went around the room, she swallowed hard, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the room, when those gorgeous green eyes soon locked with hers.

 Her heart began thudding in her chest, she watched as he jumped down off of the stage, striding purposefully towards her.

 “I’m sorry little one, wasn’t I clear?” he questioned with a voice that held no room for argument, her eyes cast down as he stepped closer still until she could feel the heat coming off of his body.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester,” she replied quietly, so only he could hear, Rebekah thought that her heart was about to pound out of her chest. She didn’t dare to look up, not even when she felt that her forehead was against his bare chest.

“Look at me little one,” she heard him demand and slowly, she moved her eyes up to meet his again. Finding those emerald green eyes trained on just her, she felt like both the most powerful woman alive and a prized china doll. There was something in Mr. Winchester’s eyes that twinkled and he nodded his head, “That’s a good girl.”

Rebekah felt her lips tug into a smile. 

It was one of the things that always got her off. She had always enjoyed being praised during sex and it was one of the ways that Stiles would bring her to orgasm, by whispering those four words in her ear just as she was about to climax. 

Dean’s voice startled her a little when he pulled her from her thoughts, “Come with me a minute sweetheart, I think you should watch extra closely,” Dean’s voice was rough and firm, his eyes focused on hers as he held out his hand for her.

The girls all squealed behind her shoving her forward, Rebekah looked back at them with wide eyes before sucking in a breath and taking hold of Mr. Winchester’s outstretched hand, letting him help her step up onto the stage. He leaned in close, careful not to touch her anywhere other than her hand. “On your knees little one, watch closely” he instructed and Rebekah swallowed hard never taking her eyes off of his.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester” Rebekah breathed heavily making the older man smile, as she got on her knees before him, hands in her lap, looking at the other woman just a foot away from her.

“Such a good girl” Dean winked, causing Rebekah to bite back a smile, watching Dean taking slow strides towards the other woman on her knees.

“Now ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Winchester addressed the crowd, “we have a special treat here. The dearest Emma will be receiving a special treat. She’s a sexual submissive who has honoured me with the gift of her submission. Isn’t that right, kitten?”

“Yes Sir,” the redhead, Emma responded, and something in Rebekah wondered how Stiles would feel if she addressed him as Sir. 

Licking her lips, Rebekah watched as Mr. Winchester walked around her and Emma. It was agonisingly silent for a moment beforehand spoke again.

“Present yourself.” 

Immediately the redhead moved her body so that she was standing straight, arms out, reminiscent of a ballerina.

Mr. Winchester moves around her and whispered something in her ear, causing the woman to nod her head before he removed the black and red corset from her body. The first thing Rebekah noticed that the woman wore a set of nipple clamps.

The idea of what those would feel like made her nipples hurt in the most delicious way as she imagined the cool metal digging into her pebbled peak with the chain dangling just between them. 

A chain that she watched Mr. Winchester tug on Emma. The girl let out a lofty moan as she arched her body forward, the moan shooting straight to Rebekahs own core. 

“Now earlier tonight, Emma broke a rule within our relationship and this means that she is to be punished. Kitten, what is your punishment to be?”

The woman still did not look up but Rebekah could swear that she saw the excitement on her skin when she said, “Ten spankings, Sir.” 

“Such a good Kitten. Now bend over the table,” he told her.

Rebekah watched as the woman bent over the table, hands clasped firmly behind her back and ass presented in the air. 

Mr. Winchester circles her slowly and Rebekah can practically see the woman’s body stiffen, something akin to excitement and nervousness coursing through her body, while her eyes remain firmly on the ground. Rebekah can feel her thighs clenching, almost involuntarily, when his voice commanded the entire room again, “Watch closely ladies and gentleman” he smirks, turning to Rebekah.

In a single stride he stands beside her, bending down until his stubbled cheek brushes her, his lips so close to her ear she has to swallow hard, “You should know, if you were one of my girls you’d be getting at least five for your behaviour,” he purrs and Rebekah has to bite back a moan, thinking of Stiles saying those words doesn’t exactly help her current state.

So she takes a breath and nods, “Yes, Mr. Winchester. I’m sorry,” she breathes heavily, feeling her nails digging into her thighs .

 Mr. Winchester is smirking when he pulls away as he licks his lips Rebekah finds herself biting her own lip. “Now, where was I?” Mr. Winchester chuckles smoothing his hands over Emma’s firm ass. The crowd went completely silent when he raised his hand, bringing it down quickly against the woman’s ass, the loud slap echoed around the large room.

Emma whimpered pushing back into his large hand, the second slap landed on her other ass cheek just as hard and there were a few gasps around the room. Rebekah’s eyes were locked to the sight, when she lurched forward Mr. Winchester chuckled, “So needy kitten, such a dirty girl in front of all of these lovely people,” he smirked, eyes flicking back to Rebekah briefly, she swallowed hard at the intensity in those green eyes.

Rebekah watched as his hands continued to fall upon Emma’s raised ass. Each sound echoing throughout the room making her more and more aroused. As she watched Mr. Winchester’s hands, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be in Emma’s place. To have him spanking her instead and it was then that she realised, she’d seen his hand come down more than 10 times. 

“Mr. Winch-” she began to ask but quickly cut herself off. She wasn’t sure what the protocol for this was and she wasn’t exactly trying to let the world know she was interested in it herself. But, he had heard her. Of course he had heard her. 

She watched as the man dropped one more smack on Emma’s ass and this one must have been harder because Emma squirmed while she made a wanton moan. 

Mr. Winchester turns to look at Rebekah who finds that she’s averting her eyes. She can feel him walking closer, until his body heat is practically directly in front of her and a hand comes to her chin. He turns her to look up at him and Rebekah is almost lost in the emerald looking back at her when he asks her, “Yes, Princess? 

She sucks in a breath of air before shaking her head softly, “I’m sorry. Mr. Winchester, I didn’t mean to interrupt but I thought you said… Emma… would receive ten spankings?”

Rebekah saw the smirk on his face and there was something about it that made here mouth water. She had to keep herself from licking her lips at the sight but the look in his eye told her she wasn’t fooling him or anyone else. 

“That’s the thing, Princess , Emma did ask for 10 spankings, those were just warm ups. A girl that’s broken the rules gets spanked with something different,” he said and Rebekah had to rub her thighs together to get some kind of friction, the intense level of arousal currently a distraction as all she wanted to do was feel the smacks against her own skin. 

She had missed when Mr. Winchester had stepped away but when she was able to focus again, he had a paddle in his hand. “This is what the bad girls get,” he smirked running the black paddle along his hand, his eyes wandering over Rebekah’s form before turning back to Emma. 

It took her a second but, eventually, Rebekah realised that she recognised the material as leather. She watched as Mr. Winchester walked over, behind Emma and told her to count each spank. He lifted his arm and Rebekah watched as the leather came down on Emma’s bare ass. The sound echoed throughout the room and made Emma groan out the number one while Rebekah had to hold her breath.

A few hours later, Malia and Kira were grabbing some waters from the bar so they could all start to sober up and, hopefully, avoid killer hangovers tomorrow.

Rebekah had been unable to get up, terrified that if she did her legs would be too shaky. So, instead, she stayed and watched the people around them. After Mr. Winchester had finished with Emma, some of the folks had taken on their own time of fun and some had relaxed, observing those around them while some folks, she had come to learn were exhibitionists, found groups that were just there - groups like her’s.

Mr. Winchester had been with the group, along with Emma. Emma, however, had called it a night and so it left her alone with the green-eyed man. 

Clearing her throat, she asked him, “So are you an.. Exhibitionist… Mr. Winchester?”

He chuckled softly, and Rebekah could swear it was a chuckle that would make her come on it’s own if she listened to it long enough, before he told her, “No actually, I tend to toe the line between Dom and Sadist. Emma’s the one that’s an exhibitionist and please, call me Dean.”

Rebekah couldn’t help the flit of disappointment that settled in her chest when he asked her to call him Dean. It felt, almost too familiar, to just address him as Dean. 

He must have seen something in her face because a moment later, he’s setting the drink in his hand down and leaning into her. He cups her cheek for a moment before he tells her softly, “Princess, tell me, have you ever done anything like this?” Rebekah could barely shake her head, her throat dry and her breathing erratic when Mr. Winchester’s thumb ran across her lip, “You should. You seem to be begging to submit.”

Rebekah couldn’t take her eyes off of him, she subconsciously licked her lips catching the tip of his thumb as it moved from her mouth. “I am, Si-, I-I mean Dean” she breathes heavily, her voice shaking as she talks, Rebekah had forgotten herself there for a minute and she notices as the corner of Dean’s mouth turns up into a smirk.

Dean’s lips move to her ear as he tugs her stool closer, so that she’s practically sitting between his legs. “I bet you’d beg so pretty for me. Feeling that paddle on your perfect bare ass, making those thighs shake until your ass is all red princess. Would you like that?” he questions, his voice husky and his plump lips grazing her ear.

Rebekah lets out a shaky breath as he pulls back to meet her eyes, she swallows thickly his eyes have darkened a shade and his pupils had widened. His words having an effect on her so fast she was swooning.

 “I - I should tell you, I have a boyfriend,” she all but whispers, feeling a little embarrassed as her arousal pooled in her panties.

“Oh princess, I can play nice. I can share,” he winks, pulling something from his pocket he slides it across the table and takes her hand. Her brain forgets how to work for a moment imagining Dean and Stiles dominating her, she wasn’t sure if she would survive, yet she had never wanted anything more. Turning her hand over he opens her clenched fist and puts the card inside it, his skin on hers even just her hands, is making her more nervous than she’d been in forever and she loves it.

“Talk to your boyfriend, see if he wants to play. Call me, and who knows, maybe I can teach you both a thing or two” he grins, those perfect white teeth flashing through his smile.

Her eyes are sparkling when she meets his gaze, "Thank you, I might just do that. Mr. Winchester" she breathes out, closing her hand around the card, not missing the way he smirks when she says those last two words.

Tags: @lusyschwa​ @chewie-redbird​ @julzdec​ @stiles-o-dylan24​ @mogaruke​ @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone​ @dylanholyhellobrien​ @desiree-0816​ @emichelle​ @lilulo-12​ @screamxqueenx94​ @brien-odylan​ @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8​ @riseandshinelittleblossom​ @ceceliaking-18​ @mrs-mitch-rapp93​ @fandom-princess-forevermore @flamencodiva​ @hobby27​ @n0rdicstar​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @nicole-lynne​ @shortwinchester​​ @22sarah08​ @shasta89​​

[valkyrieofthehighfae]

Chapter 2

Warnings: Drug use, potential alcohol abuse, mentions of an underage relationship (which I personally do NOT condone) and some brief smut. 18+ only y’all! Word Count: 3.3k Join my taglist here Tagging: @mcu-padawan​ Chapter 1

I was sitting at the bar of some fancy restaurant that my brother arranged for us to meet at, studying my nails and sipping on a martini, bored as could be of waiting for him to arrive. We had run into each other while I was shopping with Grave for a new outfit to wear at The Crypt, both of us taken by surprise by the encounter; it had been years since I’d last seen him. And of course he was running late. Surprise, surprise.

“I’m surprised your… boyfriend isn’t here with you,” Ivar took a seat next to me, flagging the bartender down to order a drink. “How have you really been, Astrid? Are you doing okay?”

“Oh, I’m perfect, Ivar. I’ve got a great job, a wonderful boyfriend, freedom,” I put emphasis on the word ‘freedom’, giving him a look. “I’m even looking into becoming a medic. As great as dancing is, I want to get out there and actually do something helpful.”

“Oh? A medic? You know that I can help you achieve that goal. Will you let me help you?” He smiled at the thought, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and I couldn’t help but smile back. I had missed him as much as I hated to admit it, not that I’d ever say it to him out loud.

“Depends, are you going to hold it over my head if I say yes and try to use it to manipulate me?” I tilted my head curiously, taking a decent sized gulp of my martini.

“What? No, of course not. I really, genuinely want to help you, Astrid. My only request is that you stay with me and stay away from that cantina rat and no more dancing.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue with him. I really wanted this chance to do something good, something other than being just a pretty face to look at, a nice body to admire. I’d always had a knack for helping people, picked up on it really quickly watching my mom patch people up who got hurt. “Fine, fine. I’ll have to go back for my stuff, though.” I set my empty glass down on the bar, frowning again. “So you’re really willing to help me? Even though our last conversation literally consisted of me telling you I hated you before running off like a brat?”

“You’re my sister. I love you more than anything. I don’t think you understand how relieved I am to see that you’re alive and okay, if not still a brat. I’m always going to help you when I can.” He squeezed my hand gently, comfortingly, and I had to take a moment to keep from crying. “I do have a couple of questions though, if you’ll humor me. First things first, how old is that cantina rat you call a boyfriend? He’s so pasty, I can’t tell.”

“Okay, rude. He’s twenty -”

Ivar glared in indignation. “He may only be three years older than you, but a twenty year old being interested in a seventeen year old is not normal in the slightest. What’s wrong with him that women his age won’t date him?”

“What’s the big deal? He treats me like a princess.” I scoffed at his outburst, embarrassed when other people started looking our way with interest. “Besides, he loves me and really cares about me.”

“By the gods, Astrid. He’s a predator. Look, that’s… we’ll… that’s a conversation for another time, I just can’t even start on how wrong any of that is right now. Are you using any drugs?” He ran a hand through his hair, stressed to the max.

“No! Come on, I may be a dancer in a low rent cantina, but that doesn’t mean I’m using. I’m smarter than that.” I lied through my teeth with another roll of my eyes. “I’m so glad to know you think that highly of me.”

“Are you going to have an attitude the whole time? Is this really going to be a thing?” He was already exasperated with me and it hadn’t even been an hour yet. Living together again was going to be hell, for him or for me, it was yet to be determined. “If this is going to be a thing, how do I make it not… be a thing? Do I just… appease you with sweets or something?” He was teasing me now, trying to find humor in the situation.

“Shopping. Lots of shopping. You still have your cushy job, right? Shouldn’t be an issue for you.” I shot back with a laugh while gathering my things. “I need to go pack my things up and talk to my boss about what’s happening.”

“Wonderful. If you don’t show up in an hour, I’m calling in the Coruscant guard to come and get you out of there.” He warned me with a sigh, growing serious again. I just waved him off, sashaying off towards the exit, contacting Grave on my comm.

“Are you still nearby babe? Great, let’s head back to the Crypt.” I ended the call, smiling sweetly at some clone troopers who walked by, batting my eyelashes flirtatiously at them.

“Flirting with the troops, Baby Doll?” Grave came waltzing up out of nowhere, draping an arm around my waist.

“Who me? Why I would never. I’ve only got eyes for you love,” I leaned into him, smiling. “There is something we need to talk about though. You know how I’ve been talking about becoming a medic?”

“Yes, I recall.” Grave glanced down at me with raised brows.

“Ivar said he’d help me get into the academy,” I hesitated a moment, biting down on my lower lip. “But that would mean I have to move back in with him, quit dancing, and… I wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.”

“So do it.”

I stopped, shocked into silence with his carefree reaction. I would have thought he would have been a little more upset but it didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. “You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be? Your brother can’t keep me away from you, Baby Doll. Besides, you’d make a sexy medic.” Grave smirked, leaning down to catch my lips in a tender kiss. “We follow through with what big brother says, lay low for a while, you focus on your studies, and when he relaxes, you come back to me and the Crypt at night.”

                                                             ~*~*~

[4 years later]

The bass from the music thrummed through my back and deep into my chest, the wall I was pressed up against cool against my flushed skin. Hands tangled themselves in my hair while black painted lips crashed against mine in a slow, hungry kiss that threatened to turn me to ashes from the heated desperation of the man who kept me pressed to the wall.

“Grave,” I managed to gasp out, struggling to catch my breath between hot and heavy kissing. “Can we move to the bed? Please?” The windup key that was part of my costume had been digging into my skin through my corset, the sensation quickly becoming uncomfortable. Grave smirked against my mouth before easily picking me up and carrying me to our bed to set me down so he could remove the silly costume I wore to dance in.

“Sorry Baby Doll, I just couldn’t wait any longer. You’re leaving me tomorrow to go be a medic and I just want you all to myself.” He breathed against my neck as he slowly unlaced my corset, placing soft kisses along my neck and shoulders. A soft moan escaped my lips as his hands gently slid the confining top off of me, fingers skimming feather soft over my skin. “Those clones don’t know how lucky they’ll be to bask in your presence my sweet Doll.” Those black lips twisted into a sneer as he pushed me back into the bed, kneeling between my legs, the Zydrate gun gripped in his hand. I ran my tongue over my lips, watching as he pressed the gun to my inner thigh and depressed some of the electric blue liquid into my thigh, the instant feeling over numbness causing me to drop back onto the bed with a contented sigh. With a soft laugh, Grave tossed the gun aside before sliding my skirt off and dropping it to the ground while I lay quietly on the messy sheets, eyes closed while losing myself in my high.

                                                      ~*~*~

[2 years later]

“Valkyrie, hey, we got two new guys coming in for some boosters. You good to handle them?” Kix asked while tossing me a couple of datapads.

“Yeah, I got ‘em. See you after my shift is up?” I caught the datapads with slightly trembling hands, wincing a little at just how shitty I felt. Kix nodded in confirmation and gave a slight wave before taking off with a quick goodbye just as Rex came walking in with who I assumed were the newbies behind him.

“Fives, Echo, this is our other combat medic, Valkyrie. She’ll get you taken care of.” Rex gave me a nod and a faint smile before taking off after Kix, calling for the other medic to wait a moment.

“Welcome to the 501st, guys. Alright, lemme just get a look at your charts real quick and you two can pop a squat over on those two beds.” I motioned to the two beds closest to where I was working, powering on one of the datapads Kix tossed at me. This one contained Fives’ file, giving me all the info I needed to know about the soldier, including which boosters he needed. “You’re up first, Fives.” I popped up to my feet, grabbed the correct boosters, and walked over to him. He already had the sleeve of his blacks rolled up, ready for me to clean the injection site, smirking a little as he looked over the tattoo on my neck.

“What’s the tattoo say?” He jerked his chin towards it and I grinned a little while wiping the numbing wipe over his bicep gently.

“Says “Loki”. He’s an old god of mischief,” I quickly injected him, moving through each booster with a practiced ease. “Guess I forgot to cover it up this morning while getting ready for the day.” I gathered the used needles and tossed them in the appropriate disposal bin and tossed my gloves to get fresh ones so I could do Echo next.

“Got any other tattoos, Doc?” Fives was watching my every move curiously as I wrapped up getting Echo taken care of, tossing the gloves into the trash before holding my hands up to show off the tattoos I had there.

“Tons of them. Pays to have a best friend who’s a tattoo artist. My right hand reads “Odin grant me wisdom” and has runes of wisdom and medical healing on the knuckles. Left hand says “A healer’s hands are often the most bloody” with healing and protection runes on the knuckles,” I rolled up the sleeves of my blacks that I wore under my scrubs to show off the Norse compass on my right inner forearm and the 501st tattoo I’d gotten done as a tribute to my guys. “And these are just a few. Now if you’re done interrogating me about my ink, get a move on. I’ve got work to do.” I shooed the pair away with a grin that immediately fell the moment they left. With a groan, I dropped back into my seat, wincing at the throbbing I felt in my brain. The withdrawal was hitting hard again and I was out of my Zydrate stash Grave had been kind enough to send along this time. I always felt like death after the high went away; I’d had to increase my dosage yet again and it was getting a little harder to maintain it. I’d gotten so used to using it for the past six years, that going without was almost enough to make me feel like I wanted to die.

Fuck. I need to let Grave know that I need more when I see him in a few days. Thank the gods we’re getting a decent leave block this time. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to try and steady myself. It was a wonder my hands didn’t tremble when I was administering their boosters, especially with how hard they shook now. Just thinking about getting my fix had me practically moaning, I couldn’t wait to see Grave and get what I needed from him.

“You absolute kriffin’ idiot!”

My eyes popped open when I heard that familiar voice yelling down the corridor. Moving quicker than I had all day, I was up and out the door of the med bay just in time to see Fey Royi, the best mechanic here on the Resolute, and one of the other mechanics getting into a fist fight right there in the corridor.

“Ya damn near killed my ass! Did ya ma drop ya or somethin’ when ya were a baby? Or are ya just stupid?” Fey growled viciously, a tool gripped tightly in one of her hands as she tore this guy a new one. Her words got under his skin and he swung at her, swearing up and down as he tried to grab the pissed off Codru-Ji woman.

“Shit!” I hissed, immediately wading into the fight along with a couple of the clones, wanting to get this taken care of before it got worse. Time seemed to slow down as a durasteel wrench came flying at my face, smashing right into my nose before I could even react. “Motherfucker!” I bellowed as my head snapped back, blood going all over the front of me.

“Oh kriff. Valkyrie!” Fey was horrified to see the results of her fight. “Way to go, dipshit! First ya almost kill me and now ya’ve broken Doc’s nose! Ya fired!” She was shaking with rage as she scruffed the appalled man and dragged him off to presumably either beat his ass or give him to the Admiral. Arms went around my shoulder as someone led me back to the med bay, swearing under their breath while getting me sat down so I could staunch the bleeding.

“Are you alright, Valkyrie? That sounded pretty bad.” Fives stepped into my line of sight, frowning. I held up a finger, signaling for him to give me a moment while I reset my nose with a snarled swear. There was no way this was going to look good by the time we got back to Coruscant, I was going to have to skip dancing this time. And if I skipped dancing, that meant no Zydrate.

“Oh I’m fucking perfect! I’ve always wanted to have my nose broken by a mechanic in some stupid fight!” I hissed before gagging at the taste of blood. “Fuck!” I kicked a tray, sending it flying across the med bay in my anger. Fives gaped at me in shock, eyes wide and immediately I felt like shit for losing my cool the way I did.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m usually way more laid back than this. I just don’t take kindly to getting my face bashed in with a wrench.” Casting an apologetic half smile his way, I trudged over to the tray, picking it up to put it back where it belonged.

“Ah… Valkyrie? Um… are ya okay?” Fey was hovering by the entrance to the med bay, hesitating to come anywhere near me.

“My face hurts, but beyond my nose being the only thing that got busted, I’m okay. What in the absolute fuck was that all about? Fighting in the corridors? Really?” I snapped at the Codru-Ji, motioning for her to come in so I could look at her lower left arm that she’d been cradling close to her body.

“That punk Coltyr didn’t place a jack correctly and the machinery I’d been workin’ on fell and nearly crushed me. The di’kut was drunk on the job again, because of course he was. Anyway, I-I’m really sorry ya got caught in the middle of that.” She was embarrassed, having a hard time looking me in the eyes. I didn’t say much, more focused on her arm, gently prodding it and moving it to test for brakes, biting my lip when she cried out.

“Let’s get an x-ray of this. There’s a really good chance it’s broken and I want to set it before it gets worse.” I helped her up, whistling for one of the medical droids to come give me a hand. Fives was still hanging around, trying to stay out of the way, his eyes tracking us as I got Fey set up with the medical droid. Once I was sure they were okay, I walked over to him, resting a hand on his bicep gently, motioning for him to walk with me. “I’m seriously sorry you had to witness my temper get the better of me in there. Drinks are on me when we get to Coruscant, it’s my way of apologizing.”

“You don’t have to do that -” He began to protest, when I raised a hand to cut him off.

“It’s not a big deal, really. It’s just a couple of drinks. We’ll meet at the 79’s okay?” I offered a quick smile, excusing myself when the medical droid called for me. Looking at the x-ray, I winced a little when it confirmed that her arm was definitely broken, and I gathered up everything I needed to get to work setting it and patching her up.

“Ah shit. Well, at least I have three other arms to use,” Fey joked but the look on her face screamed panic. “Uh… ya gonna numb me up, right Doc?” Her skin had taken on a slightly green coloring as she spoke, eyeing all of my tools on the tray with distaste.

“Yes, Fey. After we’re done here, I’m going to keep you for some observation just to be sure the pain meds don’t mess with you too badly and because I don’t want you back in the hangar yet. In fact, you need to take at least six weeks. Maybe even the full eight depending on how well you’re healing. I’ll check it again in six weeks and make a judgement call from there, but for now, you need to stay out of the hangar.”

“Six weeks?! What the hell am I supposed to do for six weeks?” Fey’s eyes got huge, horror all over her face at the thought of not being able to work for that long. She lived for her work as a mechanic, she even slept in the hangar so she could work on sleepless nights, so this had to be killing her to know she’d be out of commission for so long.

“Sorry Fey, but I need you to cooperate on this. Your arm needs time to heal. Get caught up on paperwork or you mentioned wanting to work on making some new and improved droid poppers, now you’ll have some time to sit down and design those.” I leaned back in my chair, admiring the perfect job I did binding her arm up in a cast. The idea of working on her side project seemed to cheer her up a bit, a slight smile appearing on her face.

“That’s true, I guess I have time for that now. I’m gonna take a nap though, those painkillers are no joke.” She curled up on the bed she’d been sitting on, almost immediately passing out. Smiling softly, I laid a blanket over her, and started cleaning up, wanting to make sure everything was good to go for the crew coming in to take over for the next shift so I could grab something to eat and a shower.

[camiddletonxox]

Eagerness & Gentility - Chapter 2

Pairing - Ernest Sinclaire and Charity Mills

Warning - None, this is suitable for all ages.

Taglist - @ricapella @drakewalkerfantasy @ao719 @princess-geek @polishchoicesfan @binny1985 @desireepow-1986 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @hatescapsicum @itscassandral @gardeningourmet @heauxplesslydevoted @thequeenofcronuts

Catch up here - Chapter 1

Synopsis - Its the night of the diner and the young Viscountess is nervous to see a certain gentleman. As her father gifts her with a beautiful tiara, can she really impress her guests? And most importantly can Ernest keep his eyes of her?

Note - Below is a photo of the tiara the Earl gives his daughter

Word Count - 1751

💕💕💕

It was the night of the dinner where the Edgewater family would host the Holloways, The Parsons, The Sinclaires and The Anderson’s, this was a fort nightly event, mixing with other families. The Earl and Countess were waiting for their daughter to come down.

“Mother, have you seen Charity?” The Earl asked, concerned.

“Isn’t she getting ready?” The Dowager Countess frowned, as sh walked down the stairs.

“I’ll go check on her” The Countess commented and she went upstairs.

In her room, Charity was looking at 3 beautiful gowns, whilst she paced back and forth, she was nervous to see Ernest, she wanted to impress him, take his breath away even, it was a craving of hers. Oh god was she in love with Ernest?

“Charity, my darling, are you ok?” Her mother asks, knocking softly on the floor.

“I’m ok Mama” She says, no matter how close she was to her father, her mother was the one person who understood her the most, they were incredibly close.

“Are you sure?” Her mothers concerned and devoting voice always made her feel like she could open up to her.

“I can’t decide what to wear” She admits and Maria chuckled, from the conversation she had with her husband she knew the young girl wanted to impress Ernest.

“How about I come and help you decide?” Her mother offered and it felt like a weight had been lifted off the young Viscountess’ shoulders.

“Thank you mama and I am still in my day clothes” She says and the door opened and her beautiful mother stepped into her room, and she smiled at her daughter, her hair was in its beautiful curls with a few pins in.

“Your hair looks stunning my darling, what dresses are you considering?” The mother asks and the young heiress showed her the dresses.

“I like the simplicity and the elegance of the dusky pink one but I love the light blue one” Charity pondered and her mother looked at the blue one, it had a beautiful silhouette, and was long sleeved, with a faint intricate blue lace pattern on the bodice and the skirt flowed beautifully with blue bits of lace dotted all over the dress, and it would be the perfect dress to show their guests the true elegance of the future Countess of Edgewater.

“The blue one is stunning, how about you wear it” Her mother suggested and she nodded and the other helped her daughter change into the dress, tying the corset before offering her a pair of white arm length gloves and she put them on.

“Come on, my beautiful girl, lets show off to your father” Maria chuckled as Charity stared at herself in the dress, she felt so elegant and like she could fly in, together the mother and daughter walked down the stairs to where The Earl was waiting with his mother.

“You look beautiful, my dear” The Earl couldn’t believe his eyes, his daughter really was breath-taking, she was a credit to her mother and she would sure impress Mr Sinclaire in her dress.

“Doesn’t she just?” Her grandmother agrees ad Charity beamed.

“I have a gift for you, my darling girl” Her father speaks and she frowns until he pulls out a beautiful gold, silver and sapphire tiara with beautiful pearls, he showed his daughter it, it glittered under the light of the chandelier, it truly was a breathtaking tiara, and her father was giving it to her.

“I felt since you are the Viscountess of Edgewater and well, your becoming more of a proper Viscountess each and every day, it was only right for you to have a tiara to symbolise your title, and if I my be ever the adoring father, I think this will just make you look even more beautiful than you already do, my darling girl” Her fathers words were nothing short of affectionate and the young Viscountess felt so lucky to be loved and cherished by her father.

“Thank you, father” She says, and he gently places it onto her head, completing the beautiful look.

“We should get ready for our guests arrival” The dowager countess declared and nodded to Maria and young Harry who was hanging around on the stairs and he followed. The Earl and Viscountess looked at one another.

“I spoke to your mother and grandmother, and they have said they will keep an eye on Miss Holloway, they agree with me that she behaves despicably towards you” The Earl assured his daughter as he stroked her cheek, he didn’t want her to feel uneasy at her own home.

“Thank you, father” She smiled and nodded politely, she felt so content having the love and affection of her family as deep as it was.

“And you’ll dazzle Ernest Sinclaire away with your attire, that I have not the slightest doubt about my darling” Her father complimented.

“Vincent, Charity, Harry, the Andersons have arrived” Dominique called to her son, and grandchildren and the three follow her to do door as the Anderson parents, Raymond Anderson and Beatrice Anderson step out, and the Earl nudges his daughter forward.

“Good evening Mr and Mrs Anderson, its a pleasure to have you join us tonight” The Viscountess beamed and curtsied, making her grandmother and father beam with pride.

“Good evening, my lady. What a polite welcome and may I add, you look very becoming tonight” Raymond complimented as the four children, 9 year old twins Mary and Joseph, 12 year boy Leon and 15 year old Janie step out. The Earl and Countess greet the adults and Harry goes to Leon, who he was becoming a friend to as the Parsons carriage pulled out and Charity beamed. Thaddeus and Alma Parsons step out followed by Annabelle, Cordelia and Constance.

“Good evening Mr and Mrs Parsons, I hope you had a good journey” The young Viscountess beams, curtsying.

“We did, thank you, Viscountess Charity” Alma smiled.

“Please go inside and warm up, dinner shall be served soon” The Viscountess replies politely and the parents and twins go inside.

“Who are you trying to impress?” Annabelle chuckled to her best friend.

“I have no idea to what you are on about” Charity replies, and smiles, “my father gave me this tiara, said it’s only right I have one” She added.

“Are you sure your not trying to look good for a certain Ernest?” Annabelle quizzed and Charity blushed crimson.

“It’s not intentional” The young Viscountess defended herself.

“You look amazing” Annabelle grinned to her, “Where is Miss Daly tonight?” She asked, the three girls had a little pact for having a drinking game since Charity and her governesses daughter and bestest friend Briar had come of age to have a drink.

“Ahh, her father and mother and her are spending time together for the evening so she will not present” Charity smiled and Annabelle grinned.

“Looks like the Sinclaire’s are here” Annabelle sniggered and Charity turned around as Mr Edward Sinclaire and Mrs Lydia Sinclaire stepped out their carriage followed by Ernest.

“Good evening Mr and Mrs Sinclaire, its lovely to see you” The Earl greeted and shaked his friends hand and Ernest bowed his head politely, and turned to see Charity in her beautiful dress, that complimented her beautiful eyes and her skin tone perfectly, she had a glittering tiara over her head that shimmered in the moonlight.

“This is my cue to leave you” Annabelle spoke as she rushed inside, damn you Annabelle, Charity thought and turned to Ernest.

“Good evening, sir” she beamed.

“Good evening my lady, may I just say you look absolutely stunning” Ernest gaped, as he fiddled with his fingers, a tingle inside him.

“Thank you, sir, I did promise to dress to impress” Charity commented, and smiled, there was just something about Ernest Sinclaire that turned her weak.

“Well, you succeeded” He smiles, and their parents watch them, Ernest’s father and Charity’s mother were very much on the side of letting any romance between their children happen naturally and if it didn’t happen, they that was ok, where as the Earl and Lydia were sure their children were just meant to be, they had the most amazing friendship growing up together, and Ernest adored being around Charity, looking after her and Charity felt safe around Ernest.

“My dear, come inside now, you don’t have a shawl on and I don’t want you to freeze to death” Vincent called after a couple more minutes.

“But then Holloways” Charity asked politely.

“It’s ok, myself and your mother can greet them, now go and warm up, you too Ernest” The Earl says and they walk into the manor.

“I thought you didn’t like the Holloway’s” Ernest commented, gently nudging Charity, and she rolled her eyes.

“You know I don’t but I thought my father would want me to play the role of hostess and greet them” Charity explained and nudged him back, “and it’s Felicity we don’t like, remember” she comments.

A short while later, when the Holloway’s had arrived after the families all had conversed, Charity was sat with Annabelle, the two girls had a little gossip and Charity looked up to see Ernest watching her adoringly.

“He is rather fond of you” Annabelle commented as she sipped sherry, and Charity smiled knowingly, she was rather fond of Ernest as well.

“I am rather fond of him too” The Viscountess says and Felicity Holloway marched up to Ernest.

“Oh here Felicity goes” The Viscountess murmured but Ernest never broke eye contact as Miss Holloway tried to flirt with him, and he was very clearly trying to ignore her/

“I apologise, Mis Holloway, please excuse me” Ernest excused him and walked over to Charity but before he could say anything, the head butler spoke.

“Please follow me through to the dining room” The butler spoke and the 5 families followed through and Ernest’s mother stopped him.

“You’ll be sitting with the Viscountess” His mother commented and pointed Dominique’s usual chair as Dominique smiled as she sat down

“I apologise, my lady” Ernest apologised to the dowager countess.

Charity sat down, she was at her fathers side at the head of the table, she smoothed her skirt down as she sat before turning to her left where Ernest was sheepishly sitting down.

“That’s Lady Grandmother’s seat” She speaks.

“Actually we thought it would be nice for you to sit with Ernest” Maria smiles to her daughter. Charity’s heart started thumping inside her chest.

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 3/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Immediately after the wedding, Gold and Belle depart and spend a slightly awkward carriage ride together.

Notes: This got so damn long. Oops. Have some idiots trying to figure out how to person around each other.

[AO3]

Previous: [1] [2]

As soon as Lord Gold announced their departure, Avonlea became a flurry of activity.

Astrid fretted about everything. She flitted between chests and dressers in Belle’s chambers, directing two other maids until as many of Belle’s dresses, underclothes, and shoes were packed as possible. The steward, Edmund, was in a tizzy as his usual authority was usurped by the presence of Gold. A fine carriage pulled by four horses waited at the front steps of the manor, with a small wagon behind it for the bulk of Belle’s belongings.

“Do you want me to pack the red dress?” Astrid asked, holding up the garment in question with the bulky skirt draped over her arm.

Belle made a face at the garish dress with its layers of frills and ribbons, and shook her head. “Heaven’s no!”

Astrid giggled lightly at her own joke as Belle rolled her eyes, and pulled another out of the large armoire. “How about the green?”

Belle tilted her head as she studied the dress. Like the red gown, she’d only worn it once, but that wasn’t because she disliked it. It was a different style from her usual outfits, more slim and sleek, clinging gently to her curves in a way she wasn’t accustomed to. It was a lush velvet lined with silk, and the gold thread embroidery at the neck and cuffs gave it a simple but rich look.

Finally, she sighed. “Yes, fine, I’ll bring it as well.”

Her head wasn’t in the right place to be picky about her outfits. She turned to open the trunk at the foot of her bed and pulled out a worn leather satchel. Just as she was slipping her book inside, pausing to check that Gold’s letter was still tucked inside, she turned back to Astrid.

“Oh, and the new blue one!”

Astrid stopped and looked at her wide eyed. “You’re sure?”

Belle gave her a small smile and nodded firmly. “Yes. I’m not going to let one bad incident with Sir Gaston ruin a perfectly lovely dress I had made special.”

Astrid’s mouth curve as she dipped in a quick curtsy. “Of course, my Lady.”

After a few more minutes of commotion in her rooms, Belle hurried off to the library, and tried to calm her nerves by focusing on the selection of books that would get her through the first weeks in her new home. She tucked each one into her leather satchel, laying them flat on the bottom, one on top of the other, seven high, and then an eighth along the side. The flap of the bag strained as she folded it over and latched the buckle.

“You could bring them all, you know.”

Belle startled and nearly dropped the bag on her foot as her head snapped up. Gold was standing in the door of the library with a bemused smile, and she felt her face flush.

“Oh, Lord Gold -” She stopped and chided herself silently. “Cameron. I was just -”

“I mean it,” he said, pushing off the door frame and ambling slowly towards her. His cane thumped softly against the wood floor, and her hands tightened around the strap of the bag.

“You can bring them all,” he repeated, casting his eyes around the room. “My library has plenty of space.”

“Oh, I really couldn’t.” She gave him a sheepish shrug, secretly pleased that he seemed to have a large library as well. “They’re not all mine.”

Gold let out a soft chuckle and looked down at her bag. “We could send for the ones that are later, if you like.”

She nodded and relaxed. “Thank you.”

“It’s no matter,” he said quietly. “I assume you like to read then?”

Her eyes drifted to the shelf as she spoke. “Yes, I - I do. Very much.”

“Good,” Gold muttered. “That’s...good.”

Belle wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but the fact that he was so willing to allow her space in his library and to pay for all her books to be moved was enough for now. Gaston abhorred not only reading anything that wasn't a battle plan, he also seemed to have a distaste for well-read women. Gold was, at the very least, not in that category.

“Your, um, maid -” he started to say.

“Astrid,” she supplied.

“Astrid,” he said, his eyebrows lifting, “is a bit...anxious.”

Belle bit her lip, smiling. “Yes, she’s - she’s a dear friend, but excitable at the best of times.”

“Indeed.” His fingers flexed around the hand of his cane, a motion she’d noticed while they were in her father’s office, and later in the garden. “Did you, um, want her to come with you?”

Belle’s eyes brightened. “You don’t mind?”

He made a face, the corner of his mouth curving. “Of course not. I have plenty of staff available to you, but if you like, we can send for her and your books as soon as we’re home and settled.”

Home.

She swallowed. This was home, her father’s manor, and the lands owned by her mother’s family. Right now she couldn’t imagine calling anywhere else her home, but that would be changing all too soon. At least having Astrid and her books would help her feel more at ease.

“Thank you,” she managed, and Gold gave a short nod before he turned and left.

The carriage rocked as they cross over a rough patch of road, rutted by rain and the heavy war wagons that passed by a few days ago. Belle pitched forward with a squeal as the wheels bounced, catching herself on the handle of the door. Gold reached for her, taking her by the arm and guiding her until she was seated next to him, her back to the driver and horses.

“There,” he said, once she was stable. “Better?”

She nodded and pressed a hand to her belly, feeling the laces of the corset under her gloved hand. Her left leg was pressed solidly against Gold’s and he was still holding her hand in his. She glanced up at his face, catching a hint of concern in his eyes. Facing the opposite way made the ride much more stable, if a bit bumpier, but instead of it nearly throwing her to the floor when the carriage lurched, it tipped her backwards, against the seat cushion.

‘Yes,” she managed, a bit breathless. “Much better.”

She looked out the window, catching a fading glimpse of Avonlea as they started down the hill to the main road. Her lips trembled and she pressed her lips together as the front gate and the large trees to either side disappeared from view, dipping down behind the tall grasses swaying gently in the wind. As they came around the bend at the bottom of the slope, the golden glow of the late afternoon sun warmed her face and dried her unshed tears, making the corners of her eyes feel tight. She turned her face away from Gold and rubbed at them, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

Gold was still holding her hand, a fact which she only noticed as he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Are you all right?”

She exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yes, yes I’m fine.”

He leaned forward a bit, dipping his head to try to catch a look at her face, and she finally turned to meet his eyes. “I’m fine,” she repeated, more to herself than to him.

His lips curved slightly and he sat back, seemingly satisfied for now, though he did not let go of her hand. She wondered at the small contact between them now that he had shifted further to the other side of the seat and leaned his elbow on the edge of the window. His hand was warm and loose around hers, as if to allow her to pull away at any time, but she found it oddly comforting, even from a man she barely knew.

There was an implicit trust bestowed by his letter, and strengthened by his request that she stand by his son at the appropriate time. It was as if he was making a deal with her and not her father, that the repayment of her family’s debts was more a means to secure this favor rather than a wife. It made her curious and nervous at the same time. She wanted to know the full story of how he had come to need to make such a request and understand his need, but a caution stirred low in her belly that the answer might not be pleasing to hear.

“How far is it to - your estate?” she asked finally.

Gold glanced at her and then fixed his eyes out the window once more, rubbing a finger over his lips before he spoke as if he had to calculate the distance in his mind. “I’d say thirty miles.”

Her eyes widened at that. By carriage that would take several hours, meaning they would arrive very late and long after dark.

“Don’t worry,” he continued, as if sensing her concern. “It’s good road and we’ll make better time than you might think.”

She sighed a little. “It will still be quite late by the time we get there.”

“Yes,” he conceded, giving her hand one last squeeze before he pulled it away and settled it in his lap. “But there will be time to see Thornhill in all its glory in the morning.”

“Thornhill?”

Gold nodded and flashed her a small smile. “The name of the estate.” She let out a small ‘oh,’ and he let out a short, soft laugh. “I kept the name when I purchased it.”

Belle frowned. Most of the nobility named their manors and estates to something associated with the family, but then again most had built them from nothing, not purchased them like a common house.

“Why?” She heard herself ask the question, and immediately clamped her mouth shut, pressing her fingers to her lips as Gold gave her a curious, sideways look. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

He shifted in his seat until he was tucked in the corner, facing her, and she noted once again how much smaller he was compared to Gaston and the other men who had been possible suitors.

“You’re not prying,” he said. “It will be your home, and you have every right to know its history.” She smiled at that and he continued. “I kept it because it seemed fitting. The land around it aren’t very suitable for farming, though they do well enough to support the estate and the people. I didn’t understand at first why anyone would name their home something that seemed so...negative, but the gardens, well, they’ll explain it soon enough.”

Belle’s head tilted. “Gardens?”

He hummed in affirmation. “They are...extensive.” Her eyes went wide, and his face cracked into a wide grin. “Am I going to be regularly sending out a search party when you get lost in the hedge maze?”

She startled and gasped, and he laughed. It was a warm, pleasant sound, and she let her head drop, snickering softly to herself as well. “I’ll just take some bread with me and drop crumbs as I go so I can find my way back.”

“The birds will love you for it,” he said, still smiling.

She bit her lip, cheeks flushing with mild embarrassment. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

The lines by his eyes crinkled, and in the faint light from the setting sun the flecks of gold become more prominent. Her mind flashed to what they might look like in the firelight if they sat together some winter evening, and the thought was so sudden and strange, that her grin immediately faded and she shifted in her seat.

“I was teasing, by the way,” Gold said after a long moment.

She looked at him sideways, her eyebrows lifted. “There’s no hedge maze?”

“No, there is. But it’s not very large and I have every confidence you’d be able to find your way without issue. Bae loves playing in it, and I’m sure he’d be glad to have another party to lead through it.”

She sat back and breathed out, her nerves returning at the mention of Gold’s son. She wasn’t sure about being a step-mother, but then she also wasn’t sure that Gold intended her to be one at all.

“I suppose I’ll have to wait until morning to meet him.”

Gold sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. Perhaps we should have stayed in Avonlea for the night?”

She shook her head, unsure if she would have preferred delaying the inevitable or not. “No, it’s - it’s best we got moving, I think.”

“We can visit anytime you like, Belle,” he offered, fingers stretching out to brush her hand where it rested on the seat. "I'm not stealing you away from your father to lock you in a tower."

Her gaze darted to the side, watching as his index finger traced the bump of her knuckle, and barely suppressed a shiver.

“I know,” she managed, letting her eyes trailing up to meet Gold’s. "And thank you - Cameron."

He gave her another of his crooked half smiles, and they both settled into a comfortable silence.

The sun had fully set less than an hour later. All that could be seen through the windows of the carriage were spotty, distant flickers of light from the cottages and farms that dotted the landscape between Avonlea and Thornhill. A larger glow could be seen in the next valley, and Gold looked over, ready to comment on their passing of Longbourn, the village nearest to Avonlea and the farthest North edge of Lord Maurice's lands.

He smiled and sighed as he saw Belle's sweet face, deep asleep. Reaching down, he pulled a wool blanket out of the bin under the seat and laid it over her. She let out a soft sigh, and he swallowed, looking away as the carriage began to climb the slope of the next hill.

He hadn’t expected Lady Belle to be so beautiful or kind, or for her personality to be so appealing. His hope had been to find her well read, trustworthy, and tolerable enough to suit his plans, but the moment he laid eyes on her, he began to hate himself. She could have any man she wanted, and here he was taking advantage of her family’s financial situation, using it to trap her into a marriage that she clearly didn’t want.

The carriage went around a bend and the wheels caught in the ruts, rocking the entire thing side to side. Gold brace against the door and looked over at Belle just in time to see her tip to the side and come to rest against his shoulder. She sniffed in her sleep and made a small, quiet noise. He held his breath until she settled, and then exhaled slowly. Instinct made him want to put his arm around her and help her lay more comfortably, but propriety held him back. A promise had been made, in writing. Nothing more than she was willing to give, even if she was unaware and blissfully asleep on a bumpy road.

His fingers curled against his leg, fisting over his trousers as he inhaled her scent. The perfume she was wearing reminded him of the gardens in the peak of summer, when the warm breeze carried a hint of rose and wisteria. He wondered about the circumstances of her broken engagement to Sir Gaston. While no one could blame any woman for not wanting to marry such an overbearing lummox, the entire thing had seemed to be tinged with some unknown scandal. He assumed it to be entirely on Sir Gaston’s side, given the man’s known propensity for drink and women, but the way Maurice had spoken of it hinted at more.

Another rough patch of road left Gold groaning and rubbing at his leg as a sharp pain pulsed through the muscles from foot to thigh. He shifted and stretched it out as best he could, careful not to jostle Belle too much. Her hand came up and curled around his arm, and he couldn’t help but smile even through the agony in his ankle as he rotated it one way and the other until the cramping ceased. His hand came up and covered hers, feeling the smooth warm skin beneath his palm, even against his better judgement and the nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him to keep a safe distance. His future held nothing but sorrow, save for his son, and the last thing he wanted was for Belle to be hurt by association.

Everything he was doing was for Baeden, but he did hope the boy liked Belle, at least as much as Gold feared he himself would.

Belle awoke in the carriage with a start, and heard the telltale sound of the wheels rolling over stones instead of dirt.

She sat up and looked around, confused momentarily until she realized she’d been leaning on Gold’s shoulder as she slept. “Sorry,” she mumbled, flushing red with embarrassment.

He gave her a strange look and shrugged. “It’s no matter.”

“We’ve arrived,” she said, leaning forward to look out of the window of the carriage.

He inclined his head. “We have indeed.”

He pushed open the door on his side and came around to hers, offering her a hand as she stepped down. She looked up with wide eyes at the large structure, so much higher and wider than Avonlea.

“It’s...”

“Much prettier in the daylight,” he finished for her, with a flat look that gave away his sarcastic intent.

Belle let out a soft laugh, and then Gold gave orders to the valet and two servants who had come out to greet them.

“All of the trunks in the wagon go to Lady Belle’s rooms in the south wing.”

The men nodded and began unloading, as meanwhile Belle stared up at Thornhill with apprehension. It was so much bigger than she’d imagined, more like the king’s palace than an estate home, and she marveled at how Gold had come to acquire it. Had it been available so cheaply, or was his wealth even more than she’d first understood.

A touch at her arm shook her from her contemplation and she turned to see Gold watching her.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.

She could do no more than nod, and took his arm, letting him lead her through the front archway into a wide courtyard. There were sculpted shrubs and potted plants lining the way as they walked through it to what she presumed was the front door. Inside, a wide staircase lead up to the second floor, wide enough for three people to walk side by side. There wasn’t time to look around the rest of the foyer, or any of the other rooms before they headed upstairs.

“This is the way to the family bedrooms,” he said as he lead her down a hallway that ran from the front of the house to the back. She gave him a sideways look as they came to an end, and he added, “They have the best view of the gardens.”

Belle smiled at that, and let him guide her around the corner to the left. The corridor was shorter than she expected, and lined with three doors on either side. She began to wonder how long it would take her to decipher the labyrinth of halls and rooms and stairs that made up Thornhill. A month? A year? Perhaps young Bae would be as delighted to show her around the house as he would be the hedge maze.

“This hall is yours,” Gold declared. “There’s two sitting rooms, here and here, a bathing room, small library...”

She gasped in surprise and delight, and then covered her mouth with her hand. Giving her a bemused smile, he continued on. “A dressing room there, and this...” He stopped and slipped his arm from hers to open a set of double doors at the very end of the corridor. “This is your room.”

Belle stepped inside, her lips pressed together as she took it all in. It was more rooms than she’d ever occupied at Avonlea and she wasn’t sure she’d ever find enough things or purposes to fill them all. The bedroom was wide but not too large that the single fireplace, which itself was sizable, couldn’t warm the space. At one end was a canopied bed with curtains tied back on either side. There was only a small chest of drawers and a vanity, she presumed because an entire room was devoted to storing her clothing, a fact that still had part of her mind spinning. A curved chaise and two chairs made a small sitting area near the fireplace, and along the back wall was a set of four large windows, two of which opened onto a terrace.

“Consider these a blank canvas. You can change anything that isn’t to your liking,” Gold added from the doorway. “I fear I’ve left them rather plain and awaiting the right touch.”

She barely heard him as she moved forward, running her hand over the edges of the furniture. She approached the window nearest the bed and lifted back the curtain to peer into the darkness. A few torches lit the patio below, but she couldn’t see much more than a few feet of grass and more potted plants set along the edge of the stone pavers.

“It looks rather nice in the sunlight,” he said, standing just behind her.

Her lips twitched and she glanced up at him over her shoulder. “And if I don’t like the view?”

Gold’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Then I’m sure we can find another room with another view that you will like better.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure this one will be lovely.”

“Well,” he said, smoothing his hands down the front of his coat. It was lightly creased from so long in the carriage, but she thought he still looked quite nice. “It’s late and -”

“Where is your room?” she asked abruptly. She didn’t know where the thought had come from, but once it was there she couldn’t help but let it out.

“The other end,” he said simply. “Of the hall.”

She blinked, surprised that he’d be so close by. Sir Gaston had promised her space in an entire wing of his estate, enough to keep her far away from his rooms and whatever went on there. Her own parents were separated by the entire width of Avonlea manor. Gold was so near that she could poke her head out of her bedroom door and see his at the opposite end.

Gold’s hand twisted against the hand of his cane. “Is that - a problem?”

“No!” She paused and swallowed. “No, it’s - it’s fine. I was just - curious is all. I’m sorry.”

“It’s no matter.” He said before he took a step back and bowed at the waist. “I will bid you goodnight, at and let you get settled before bed.”

“Goodnight,” she replied. “Cameron.”

A small smile crinkled his eyes again, and he bowed a second time. Goodnight, Belle.”

A long slow breath left her after the door close and she dropped down on the mattress, closing her eyes for a moment.

Thornhill.

Her new home. With her new husband just at the end of the hall.

Opening her eyes, she looked around the room again and starting to smile. Her hands roamed over the fabric, testing with gentle pushes. The mattress and pillows were plush and soft, perhaps the most decadent she’d ever touched, and she’d stayed several nights at the King’s summer palace with Ariel. Her hand traced the faint pattern stitched into the creamy white duvet, the delicate blue thread tucking the fabric to make fluffy hills and narrow valleys.

She smiled and bit her lip. Lord Gold - Cameron - she corrected herself, again, had told her that her rooms were a blank canvas, awaiting her touch, her preferences. Yet as she looked around the already well appointed room, with its soft colors and wide balcony overlooking the ample gardens, she wasn’t sure if there was anything she would change.

In fact, she was considering that perhaps there was nothing she would change about the situation at all, her marriage included.

[glowyjellyfish]

FF7 remake thoughts from Wall market and the sewers (chapters 9 and 10 I believe); spoilers through there for the remake, and for the whole OG:

-cloud took his gloves off cloud has hands ahhhhhhh

-i love the twisty alleyways of Wall Market

-i avoided doing all the OG things because I felt I needed to wait until it was time to make Cloud pretty… but then i realized the mechanics are totally different, at least so far. Nobody’s even talked about getting Cloud in there yet! It’s great that he trusts Aerith to go in by herself, and it’s great that the game isn’t going “hee hee let’s put a man in a dress! It’s a joke because he’s a man in a dress!” but dammit I really enjoyed that Aerith’s mind went right there in the OG

-I did not expect to like madame M this much. She’s fantastic and I want to know the sordid past between her and chocobo Sam. such tension. 

-I could only afford the normal massage because i went shopping like an idiot, but i had to have hardedge! Now i am concerned that cloud won’t get to be maximum pretty! Also I told aerith that it didn’t matter what I thought of her clothes, which seemed like the better option between “it looks comfortable” and “it’s alright”, and I’m also concerned that my choice will put her in something that’s not her amazing red dress I just want them all to be as pretty as possible and have a fun time and not be mean to anybody

-hell house was tough as fuck, also amazing, and i was so proud when i squeezed out a win on my first try on it. Don’t know whether that is usual but i am so pleased, I used assess, and I didn’t even have an Ice equipped!

-OH I ADORE that Aerith didn’t even spare a second to be jealous of Tifa heading to Wall Market, she just immediately went for lady solidarity and wanted to rescue Tifa from perverts even more than Cloud did, I’m so excited to see them be friends!

Day two of playing wall market:

-johnny is suuuper obnoxious but in a sort of loveable way. I don’t want him constantly hanging around, but it’s also kind of hilarious, especially in the overall context of how in the OG he was poorly translated and just kept popping up places and it was tough to tell what his relationship to cloud and tifa was supposed to be. Also, makes me wonder if the various makers of this game were familiar with ObstinateMelon’s FF7 web comic on deviantart, which really leans into his weird mistranslated obnoxiousness.

-I don’t know whether Cloud and Aerith got the official prettiest dresses, but they sure looked super pretty to me. Aerith got her red dress from the trailer and was stunning; Cloud was the prettiest boy at the ball with a corset dress and gold necklace, and he wowed everyone with his dance moves despite feeling sooo awkward and stumbling from time to time, and he got picked. I’m so proud of him/me. Tifa’s the only one whose outfit I feel was bad, and I am not entirely clear on whether I got her a bad dress, it’s supposed to be canonical iffy dress sense/trying to appeal to Corneo (after all, she didn’t get the professional fabulizing that Cloud and Aerith got), or if it’s just because that dress happens to not be to my taste.

-BUT the part where Aerith and Tifa beat up Corneo’s men? Instead of staying with Cloud we got a whole scene with them kicking ass and we got to control them and they high-fived and complimented each other and it was amazing, easily my favorite scene in the game so far

-I am constantly coming up with new theories to explain the flash-forwards and guardians of fate, and I should probably just finish the damn game before I try, I barely know anything. And now Aerith is implying she can see the future to some degree, what’s up with that??

-I’m excited I finally saw Reeve in action! He had like two lines and he’s only gonna get like two more if they continue to sensibly play him close to the chest, but he’s there and he’s good.

-speaking of reeve, I was pleased you can still spy on a couple of Honeybee Inn rooms (oh my god Palmer, like in the deleted scenes, but still palmer), and a tiny bit bummed that we didn’t have the older couple that’s implied to be Reeve’s parents. Only a tiny bit, because 1. Reeve’s one of the top executives at the corporation that runs the world, he can afford to send his elderly parents to a place that’s not so skeezy, and 2. The biggest reason to assume they’re his parents is the tiny Cait Sith in the room. Reeve, why would you leave a robot you personally control and at the very least get some sort of video feed from if not literally see through the eyes of in your parents’ romantic hotel room? That’s weird, Reeve. That’s way weirder than just having the robot in your arsenal to begin with. Good reason to cut it.

-I adore that the game barely gave a nod to the possibility of the ladies being jealous of one another before diving in head first to Tifa and Aerith best friends foreverrrrrr! Expanding on the actual positions of the actual OG, and not allowing fandom perception over the years turn it into a shitty love triangle. It’s a respectable love triangle, dammit.

-also, have i mentioned how much I enjoy hearing the characters swear? Especially Aerith, but it’s just fun overall. I sincerely hope they are permitted one instance of “fuck” in the entire series, and give it to Cid. He deserves it.

-Thinking it over, I actually really enjoy the whole concept of the sidequests. It’s not just dicking off to a random dungeon or breeding chocobos for a solid week, it’s Tifa and Aerith supporting Cloud in his insistence on being a mercenary and helping him make that work. It’s making that a genuine job for him rather than just a label to slap on himself. It’s Tifa imparting her experience from running a business, and Aerith showing how important people skills are. (OH did I mention at any point how much I loved people in sector 5 reacting to and chatting with Aerith as we walked around? That was amazing!) 

-...in general, it delights me how often we are treated to controlling another character, usually Aerith so far. In the OG I loved any time you could control a different character, and aside from Tifa and Cid it was so rare.

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

The Eagle of Unasta and The Dragon of Zarcade Part 2

Look, I’m in a funk ok? I will get back to my Viking’s stuff as soon as I get this story out of my system. @waiting4inspiration​ you still might like this even though it doesn’t pertain to any particular fandom that you like. In case you missed it, here’s part 1.  Enjoy part 2. 

Part 2

In the morning, you woke up, feeling well rested, and rejuvenated, dreaming of flying with Zaq some more among other things and when you fully woke up, you realized you had slept in the cloak but you hadn’t sweated in it, if anything you had been perfectly comfortable in it. It smelled of the night air and Zaq and you couldn’t help but bring it to your face and breathed in as deeply as you could as you marveled at its softness against your face. 

He had carried you to bed like you had weighed nothing. Truth be told you were a rather voluptuous woman, shorter than you supposed was average and very curvy but compact and much heavier than you looked because you had more strength and muscle than most realized, so that was a feat in itself because he carried you like you had been barely a feather and he was clearly quite strong himself which you appreciated. 

You got dressed and came down to breakfast at about the same time the rest of your family did as Ester eagerly waived you over to sit next to her again at her table. 

“I thought you’d be in bed for at least another hour.” She murmured under her breath as she gave you a scheming smile. 

“So did I, I have no idea when we got back.” You muttered back, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. “Now I’m just waiting for the floor to drop and my family to throw a fit over what I did when they find out, every Zarcadian here practically saw me riding last night- if my family doesn’t know already- I give it an hour before they do then shit will hit the fan.” You predicted. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so quick to worry. If anything you just gave every Zarcadian here hope that they have half a chance.” She mused which made you snort a laugh into your coffee. 

“Yeah right, like one dance, one ride and two gifts is the magic combination to the Unasta’s lock.” You gave her a disbelieving look. 

“Wait, gifts? What gifts?” She asked. 

“That cloak I was wearing last night on that ride, it was given to me as a gift by Zaq.” You explained. 

“Well a cloak can be just a cloak, it’s an item of clothing that can be bought and sold like any other.” She waived off dismissively. “I’ve been given dozens of cloaks in every color conceivable not to mention a whole new wardrobe of nothing but the finest dragon silk and dragon wool clothes which I'm finding I'm becoming incredibly partial to because they are rather comfortable- no offense to your aunt, but I would happily never wear another corset ever again after I marry Xander. But what makes my clothes special is Zarcadian’s use their dragon’s magic to divine your adult size even when you’re little or even when you’re a newborn, they somehow use it to figure out what your sizes will be when the engagement will be implemented, so that all of your clothes fit you like a glove when they’re given to you, it’s supposed to signify how you were always fated to fit in with the rest of the family and how your place has been carved out for you, although it is uncanny how well it all suits my tastes, the dragon silk and wool takes ages to dye and it has to be carefully crafted for years, which is why Zarcadian fashion tends to be so timeless.” She added. “So what was the second? Please tell me it was a kiss good night though, because I saw the way you eyed him all last night and I know once your eagle eyes lock on, there’s no losing your target and I must say I wholeheartedly approve because you two looked so great together when you were dancing last night.” She gushed. 

“No, it was a dragon tooth blade.” You answered as you pulled it out of your pocket and showed it to her before she took it and took it out of its sheath to inspect it. 

“Huh, interesting.”  she frowned in concentration as she looked it over carefully, using the point to casually clean out her fingernail. “It’s nice, I mean not as nice as mine because I have mine spectacularly bejeweled, to the point I’m afraid the stones will come out if I use it. But you prefer functionality over looks so this suits you incredibly well. Does Zaq have one that is like a masculine version of it? Like a matched set?” She asked hopefully. 

“No, not that I’ve seen, why?”You returned curiously. 

“Well, see here’s the thing, if he had one just like it or a masculine version of it- like it’s a matched set- that means something.” She revealed. 

“What does it mean?” You pressed as you felt vindicated in your gut feeling about it last night. 

“So what the Zarcadians will do for couples is they enchant one big rough stone once the match is set, and it will be the link to join the couple and the stone- usually the nonzarcadian’s favorite stone- and it can be made into anything- jewelry, like a bracelet or a pendant, but the most common is handles for dragon tooth blades. And it’s supposed to signify that even in battle, you will defend each other and that your connection to each other is as strong as the dragon toothed blade it’s attached to. But if he doesn’t have one that matches it- then it’s just a normal dragon toothed blade- and again- those get bought and sold and traded all the time. So either those gifts mean he’s just being nice and generous and trying to befriend you, or they could mean something a bit more serious depending on your point of view.” She explained and you found yourself secretly wishing it was more serious but knew it was too much to hope for.  

“How is the stone enchanted?” You asked because you just had a gut feeling that it wasn’t just some normal dragon toothed blade, you just felt in your bones that this was special, why else would it fit your hand like it was made for it because honestly you had small, dainty, delicate- but supremely strong hands and buying gloves was always a nightmare because none of them seemed to fit right so to have something that suited your hands, was a welcome and refreshing change of pace. 

“Ok, so think of it- like a worry stone but it’s connected to the other half. Whatever you’re feeling- the other can feel it when they touch it and whatever feelings or emotions the other is feeling, you can get a sense of it from them through your half of the stone. It’s not necessarily thoughts per-say- like you can’t ask them a math question and they’ll feed you the answer, cause I tried it and it didn’t work, but it feels like…” She paused as she tried to find the right words to explain it. “You know how you feel sympathy and empathy for another person and you take how they are feeling and you make it your own?” She questioned as you nodded in understanding. 

“It’s like that, like with mine, if I’m missing him or I’m sad or frustrated, and I can hold my dagger and if he’s holding his- he can feel that and vice versa, you can tell that it’s very much how they are feeling and you choose to make it your own or not, it’s a way for the couple to always be connected so that by the time of the wedding, you’re more or less friends and get a chance to get to know their emotional makeup and moods at least.” She explained. 

“So who is Zaq betrothed to anyway?” You felt the need to ask. 

“I have no idea. No one does. His great grandmother announced at his birth that his betrothed will be ‘one of great surprise’, and ‘it is she that will make herself known to him and to his family’ according to Xander who overheard his grandmother and mother talking about it right before they came here. Which is completely against custom because usually Zarcadian men are betrothed from a year up until they are like 10 or however long it takes for a “suitable” wife to come along and be born and once the match is made- it’s practically preached in the town square and everyone knows and word spreads like wildfire and they usually become pen pals and spend a lot of time together as kids and teenagers so that they’re not strangers to each other at their wedding. So either his betrothed is older than him which would be a first for Zarcadians because usually Zarcadian men are a couple of years older than their wives. But a woman of high enough stature or valuable enough that they were simply waiting for the next son to be born and whoever was born the quickest gets the girl because Zaq and several others from the other families were all born within the span of just a couple days of each other, some even hours apart. But I don’t think that’s what happened, or at least the whole story. His whole situation makes me think that they put in a bid for a princess and that great grandma made that announcement before she got an answer back because in this day and age who in their right mind would say no to a Zarcadian? Especially one from the house of Ceda, the second most distinguished house besides the royal family? Well besides your family of course, but the fact that she has maintained that all his life- makes me think that he secretly got rejected but she’s saving face and she doesn’t want anyone to know. So I believe he’s actually single and not betrothed to anyone and that the moment any woman no matter how humble or high her station who expresses any interest in him can have him and great grandma will go ‘Tada see? Somehow it was Miss Random all along.’ And cover her ass for dropping the ball and no one would be any wiser for it. But I mean look at him and his handsome self, if my theory is right- it’s not going to be long before he’s snatched up like this last lemon custard tart.” She hastily snatched up her prize from the tray and stuffed it in her mouth which made you snort another laugh and roll your eyes as you turned the dagger over in your hand, still marveling at how perfectly fit your hand as you wondered what was really going on before you put it away. 

After breakfast you were walking through the solarium, enjoying the exotic flowers from around the world as you held that dagger in your hand in your pocket and mentally called out to Zaq to come and find you and where you were before Zaq seemed to come out of nowhere to answer your unspoken call. 

“Those don’t really have a scent Eagle.” He gently teased which made you smile excitedly before you turned from sniffing them and feeling disappointed that they did indeed, not have a scent, despite their beauty but hoping that your little “test” just proved true. 

“I suppose you already know which ones do Dragon?” You returned with a grin which made his own smirk grow into a smile. 

“I do actually.” He confirmed. 

“Then do lead me to said blooms.” You invited as you gestured for him to lead the way before he offered you his arm which you gratefully took and walked together, your strides naturally syncing with one another, not even wanting to look to see if he was wearing another dagger because you were afraid you would get disappointed that it wouldn't match just in case this was a fluke and you wanted to enjoy this little fantasy of yours a little longer before reality shattered it. 

“So where are the other wolves today? Out hunting again?” You guessed. 

“Yes, trying to anyway,” he confirmed which you hummed in response to. 

“Was there a meaning behind your gifts to me last night? Or are you just a generous person by nature?” You asked wondering if he would speak freely with you, the most you could hope for is he would be honest but he was Zarcadian after all, and you knew they did love their secrets, and wondered how many ulterior motives he had and what they were. 

“Well you are right, I am a generous person by nature, or at least I try to be and there is meaning behind them, an amicable one I assure you.” He answered. 

Well that confirmed that he wanted to be your friend but it didn’t negate the more serious intentions either. 

“Well I am appreciative of the gifts, the cloak fits me well and is perfectly balanced in that it kept me warm but wasn’t suffocating in any way, and this blade is especially exquisite and the handle is extraordinary, I have never had a blade fit my hands as well as this does and it has a beautiful balance of functionality and beauty. The blade your brother Xander gave to Ester is in my opinion, overly decorated to the point that it negates it’s functionality but Ester does love that kind of thing, I’m sure a gem would fall off the moment she would try to use it to spread butter on her toast not that it’ll probably never leave it’s sheathe. However I understand there is some cultural significance considering Xander has one that matches it since it came in a set. She informed me that it’s to signify that they’re a couple, which is a sweet tradition in my opinion, it can make a betrothal easier to accept especially when the parties have little to no choice in the matter.” You ventured as you took it out and continued to appraise it.   

 “It does, but I know that you are not chained to such traditions.” He answered carefully, knowing he would have to choose his words carefully and not spill the beans too soon and scare you off. 

“You are also correct. My grandfather is very clear to his children and even his grandchildren that we should freely choose for ourselves what we should do and who we should marry and to hold fate in one hand and destiny in another and yet not give into either unless we want to but to otherwise carve out what you want with your own two hands.” You revealed. 

“What I would give to be in such a family.” Zaq sighed, a week before he would have been feeling extremely jealous himself but right now he was tickled that you once again said word for word what his grandmother had predicted and he couldn’t wait to actually be your family one day.  

“So absolute freedom then? No strings or restrictions?” He asked. 

“Well, there is one stipulation. We are forbidden from marrying any Zarcadians, my grandfather may be old and getting perhaps a little senile in his old age but he's still the patriarch of the family and he still decides who inherits what and he does get the final say in all the important matters and so far he has never been wrong about anything, so at least while he lives, his word is law to a degree in our family. Now I'm told he has his reasons for feeling the way he does about Zarcadians but my parents as well as all my aunts and uncles refuse to tell me or my sisters or my cousins what those reasons could possibly be and shut us down every time we try to ask. There is a theory among us though that he loved a Zarcadian woman in his youth. But my grandfather was of very little means with no political ties so he had nothing but himself to offer her, and she had been betrothed to another since infancy or childhood or whatever the Zarcadian custom may be and could not break it for him. So his rejection made him bitter and there was no way for him to know at the time that he or any of his relation would ever amount to anything more than a commoner. I have seen Zarcade from a distance, even the houses of slaves are great and even they can trace their lineage back generations whereas in my family- all we have is living memory that my grandmother can remember about her own large family since my grandfather can only remember himself as a tumbleweed before he was in the army. But he found a place for himself as a soldier of Suter and his friends that he made there were closer than brothers and he made his own found family and he did get to marry my grandmother which he has vowed always was, always is and always will be the love of his life and even now, their love for each other burns brighter than the sun, as does the love between my parents and all my aunts and uncles." You confessed, shocking yourself with how easy it was to be so forthcoming, and worrying that Zaq now had ammunition against you as your stroked the handle to the blade anxiously before you felt a sense of calm, like you were safe- like you were with a dear friend who would keep your confidence- there was no other way to explain it. 

“Well I am, technically only a small, tiny fraction Zarcadian, surely that’s far enough away from it for it not to be held against me.” He tried to reason, his own tone still light and a little teasing which helped you relax as you smiled fondly at him. 

“Well while I can only speak for myself, I promise to do my best not to hold that against you, however I think others in my family probably- and by probably I mean most likely- would. I think they would take issue with the fact that your family is one of the most noble families of Zarcade, second only to the royal family and you live in one of the towers in the old kingdom do you not?” You questioned as he grimaced. 

“Details, details,” He tried to waive off dismissively which made you giggle as you either consciously or subconsciously hugged his well muscled arm and laid your head on his shoulder for a moment before he covered your hand that was in the crook of his elbow and you found yourself appreciating for a second time how warm his hands were, still that same balance between softness and calloused-ness, yet profoundly tender, thinking to yourself that you could so fall in love with him with almost alarming ease and wondered if you could live with yourself if you defied your family to chase this dream you were perceiving now when you looked at him, of course, with him being possibly betrothed to another didn't sit well with you, as you were brought up that a husband and wife should be absolutely loyal and faithful to the other and that mistresses were never an option, that if there was no more love in a marriage- that one should divorce the other so that you were both free to love another and find happiness and love again, you never wanted to be the other woman and would in turn never tolerate infidelity but if he was secretly free and single and looking to get out of Zarcade you could definitely be interested and you would happily break him out of the traditions he was chained to if he wanted to be free that is. You supposed only time could tell at this point though.  

When you got to the promised blooms, you reluctantly let him go to take a few steps off the path to smell the blooms as Zaq’s dragon flew all around the salarium to try to get a closer look at the two you as Zaq was shooing her away. 

“Is your dragon missing you?” You asked, having seen her reflection in the glass around you. 

“Kind of?” Zaq grimaced, you really did see everything and he didn’t want his dragon ruining or spoiling anything just yet. 

“So if I may be so bold- is there any way to be a dragoner without being a Zarcadian?” You asked. 

“Well, in theory, yes, if you could get your hands on some dragon eggs and manage to incubate them and successfully hatch them, you could grow them up and start breeding them once they’re of size but most dragons have a way of finding their brethren and returning to the same place their ancestors hatched from since they use the same sites for generations as long as the sites are not compromised or contaminated because most dragons are actually really picky about how and where they lay their eggs, of course, with that being said- you’d have to brave a whole cavern full of nursery and guardian dragons to get to the eggs.” He answered and you got the sense that he was being truthful. 

“So how are dragon eggs incubated?” You asked curiously, thrilled that he was sharing even this much with you. 

“Well they get set on fire by the parent’s dragon fire and have to stay at really high temperatures for several months, the longer the better. I have to get dressed in many thick layers of dragon leather and dragon scale armor and use special lenses made out of translucent dragon scales to even see the eggs so I can count them while they’re in incubation and drop off all the carcasses for the nursery and guard dragons to eat because they never really leave the caves, that’s why most dragons who hunt are actually males- but once they reach those final few weeks, the dragons instinctively and very carefully lower the temperature so that by the time they are ready to come out of the egg, we can be present to welcome them into the world and you would be surprised to find out how shockingly similar they are to kittens or puppies when they’re little, especially when they’re roughly the same size, and they usually imprint on us and their parents and the other nursery and guardian dragons so it’s much easier to teach them how to take a rider when they want to be ridden by you.” He explained, happy to talk so freely about something that Zarcadians usually were sworn to secrecy about but to you- he knew he could trust you with this information in turn as he was relieved that the reason your grandfather had forbidden the marriages before was probably due to a grudge but if your grandfather was already old and frail, surely he wouldn’t have to wait too long before that obstacle would remove itself, hopefully sooner than later. He could sense that you were a revolutionary in the making, an independant trail blazer and he couldn’t wait to show you everything he was talking about as soon as he figured out how in the world he was going to manage to get you to come to Zarcade. 

“So basically the only way to really get into dragons is to first have a pair of them to lay eggs in a cave that isn’t their ancestral nesting site on Zarcadian soil and get them to incubate and care for the eggs themselves because doing it any other way doesn't seem feasible, so the venture does seem like an impossibility since owning dragons is an exclusive right held only by Zarcadians and the only way into that is by marrying into a Zacadian family who breeds them on their own and already knows the tips and tricks as you appear to.” You surmised and Zaq could only nod in agreement to that reasoning. 

“Well, there is one other kind of roundabout way, you could marry into a Zarcadian family, get given those dragons as wedding presents since dragons are the last present given to a bride coming into the family then find a way to divorce them and take the dragons with you- if you managed to be the first to get your legal divorce since divorce is banned, I mean you could, in theory do it.” He offered. “Just because every other person has failed trying to be a dragoner without becoming a Zarcadian- in the history since my ancestors, however distant they may be in my family, shouldn’t deter you.” He tried to encourage you but his tone was still playful which made you laugh. 

“Oh is that all? Easy peasy then. All I would need now is a Zarcadian groom who isn’t betrothed already, which I will need all the luck in the world to find unless he practically fell out of the sky into my lap,  to agree to teach me all there was to know about dragons, marry me, hand the dragons over to me and then immediately divorce me if he was not willing to turn his back on his people, culture and traditions unless he wanted to do all of those things and leave with me, in which case we’d both be outcasts from our families and we would be completely on our own from that moment on and be the enemies of not just Suter and the Unastas but the Zarcadians as well and find a mountain range suitable to building a new nesting site in addition to him having dragons who would in turn be willing to follow me home and go against their own instincts which are stronger than any animal.” You realized as Zaq simply smiled, knowing it would never get quite that bad but if he had to be dropped into your heavenly divine lap, so be it. 

“You could hold auditions, have the declaration of war right next to the sign up sheet.” He mused which got you both to laugh as you walked back to him before you just casually took a walk through the solarium together, talking about everything, upbringings and cultures and food and of course going back to dragons as often as possible before it was lunchtime and you snagged a servant to bring you lunch in the solarium so that you could enjoy it in privacy with Zaq without the whole world watching. 

“So could I use this on like everyday things or just use it for special occasions or what?” You asked as you both enjoyed nice little sandwiches as you sat on the swing together and gently swung, enjoying the fresh spring blooms and their scents around you as you appreciated the dagger some more, getting used to its weight and balance. 

“You can use it however you see fit. But just be careful- it is sharp and will cut through just about anything but if it ever gets dull, just let me know and I’ll resharpen it for you.” Zaq offered. 

“Thank you.” You beamed happily at him as you were just amazed that the more time you spent with him, the more you felt like you had always known him, like you had been friends for forever already and something about him just clicked with you. 

“Ok, do you mind if I asked you a rather personal question?” You asked as you split the last mango custard tart which was your personal favorite. 

“Go for it.” He invited as he gratefully took the other half and ate it gleefully. 

“I know Zarcadians have the custom of being betrothed very young, would I be correct to assume that you are too?” 

"You would be wrong if you did." He answered with a smile that was practically scheming that excited every nerve in your body. 

"What? How? How are you not betrothed?!" You pressed, forcing your voice to be a hushed whisper as you turned towards him and leaned even closer to him. 

"Because an offer of marriage hasn't been made on my behalf yet and no one will either. No offer, no proposal, no betrothal. In fact, most of my younger siblings aren't even betrothed and they are well passed the age." He informed you, his own voice an equally hushed whisper as his body language mirrored yours. 

"Who handles all the betrothals in your family?" You asked. 

"My great grandmother, you're not the only one with a senile grandparent." He hinted. "Of course if you ask anyone else, they'll tell you that I am but "it's a secret surprise" but there has never been a name mentioned. When I was younger it used to give a lot of anxiety because not knowing was unnerving. But the older I get- the more I appreciate it.” He admitted as you both laid your heads against the back cushions of the swing as once again your sleepiness seemed to take over, because it was now siesta time but you didn’t want your time together to end. 

“Are you ok?” Zaq asked as you yawned. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I had a great lunch so now it’s siesta time to Unastas.” You murmured sleepily as you struggled to keep your eyes open but you couldn’t wipe the dreamy smile from your lips if you tried. 

“Do you wish to return to your room?” He asked. 

“No, I don’t want to leave and I love hearing you talk about...everything.” You answered. 

“Here,” Zaq said as he pulled a cushion from another chair and scooted back so that you could lay down which you gladly obliged, laying on your back on the bench, your knees laing over the armrest of the swing looking up past the frame into the canopy as Zaq pulled a magicked dragon wool handkerchief out of his pocket and started to stretch and pull and fluff it so that it grew into a throw blanket big enough to cover you before he laid it over you so you could sleep comfortably and actually sang you a lullaby, his tone becoming soft before you quickly fell asleep with the added gentle swaying and rocking of the swing. 

“God is my fate beautiful.” Zaq whispered in awe as he gently reached out and gently traced the lines of your face, memorizing every curve before he pulled out a journal from his breast pocket and made notes of the other details of his great grandmother’s prophecy you had gotten right before he sketched you in his journal, marveling at you and so happy with himself that he had waited for you. Because you were obviously worth the wait and his great grandmother was right in that if she had told anyone who The Eagle was, no one would believe her. But now he did, with his whole heart and soul. 

He put the journal away and pulled out a second book and happily read in silence to let you sleep for as long as you needed, happy and content that you trusted him enough to be so open and vulnerable with him so soon, he thought it would take at least a week to get half as far but when you stirred and rolled over and moved up, moving the pillow to his lap so that all of you could fit on the bench, he happily continued to sit there and have you sleep peacefully in his lap as he read out of his favorite book before he heard someone else come into the solarium and worried about who it might be before he heard his brother and his future sister in law’s voices as they came in and eagerly went to their own hidden spot nearby, thankfully out of sight to have a randevu as Zaq rolled his eyes and tried to push the noise they were making out of his head as he tried to focus on his book and not let what they were doing affect him, not wanting his boner to disturb your slumber and when they had finally finished many heated moments later he blew out a breath of relief and couldn’t help but grin when they were all giggles and cooing to each other as they then got straightened up and continued to walk around the solarium. 

“Oh!” They exclaimed as they noticed Zaq sitting on the bench reading with someone sleeping in his lap. 

“Please tell me that’s Anya,” Ester whispered excitedly as she came over to see who it was and silently cheered when it was you. 

“Yes!” She practically bounced as she then went to her fiance to shake him in excitement as he stood there in shocked surprise. 

“No way, that can’t be The Eagle.” Xander shook his head in disbelief. 

“Wait what? Eagle?” She pressed. 

“Zaq’s mystery woman, who everyone has always refered to her as The Eagle.” Zaq explained. 

“Unasta’s have golden griffens in their coat of arms. Sudi has Eagles.” Xander argued. 

“Red Eagles, so you take the color of one and the creature of the second because her mother is of Sudi, it’s her father who’s an Unasta. Grandma said that mine was supposed to be golden, look at her hair and tell me that isn’t the same colors as a golden eagle, when we were dancing last night we were bantering and she called me a wolf, I called her an Eagle and she didn’t argue and when I said Golden Eagle, she beamed before she corrected herself and called me a dragon.” Zaq defended. 

“Look, you don’t know Anya, she’s literally the embodiment of an eagle, she is the most eagle eyed woman I have ever known, she sees her target and she goes for it and won’t stop until it’s hers. She’s incredibly perceptive and sharp and she practically flies on her horses, the faster the better and did you see how natural of a rider she was last night? Come on, she is it, I totally see why your grandma said no one would believe it. Oh my god, my best friend is gonna be my sister,” Ester practically squealed in excited whispers before she started doing a small victory dance. 

“How in the world are we going to get her to Zarcade though?” Xander wondered aloud. 

“Oh leave that to me, I can ask her parents on our wedding day for her to visit me after we get back from our honeymoon and no one in their right mind says no to a bride on her wedding day, at least to me.” Ester schemed as Zaq and Xander looked at each other in pleasant surprise. 

“Thank you,” Zaq thanked her appreciatively. 

“Now, word of advice, when you really want to prove to her that this is fate and destiny, give her the gloves, she has the hardest time getting gloves that fit her hands. Also, we should stop on our way to Zarcade to pick her up and you need to come with us, because their entire district is gorgeous and stay at least one night because their family feasts that they have every night are always super laid back and casual instead of so formal like it is here, that and Unasta’s always take siestas which I’m kind of jealous that I wish we did too but every Unasta works very hard all day and all of Anya’s siblings and cousins kind of flock to whoever they want to work with that day and they all have their own projects that they work on with everyone so that everyone has a well rounded education and nothing is gendered, like her cousin Parker, he can design clothes just as beautiful as his aunt can and her sister Megan, she can butcher hogs better than anyone and they all have their own plots of gardens so they grow what they want to grow, be it flowers or vegetables or fruits or whatever. They are given freedom, opportunities and choices most could only dream of while they all love and support each other so much and they just generally have so much fun.” She urged them as they all sat down in the sitting area, Ester choosing to sit on Xander’s lap because the other chair didn’t have it’s cushion which Xander didn’t mind one bit.

 You woke up to the sound of soft conversation before you slowly let your eyes flutter open. “Hey sleepy head.” Ester greeted cheerfully as Xander himself smiled happily at you from his place behind her. 

“Hey,” you greeted as you stretched and yawned before you sat up. 

“Thank you,” you thanked him appreciatively as you begrudgingly tried to give it back. “How did you make it so big?” You asked him curiously as you looked at the royal blue fabric in your hands appreciatively. 

“Like this.” Zaq said as he demonstrated how to make it smaller and then bigger again as Ester and Xander watched on with amusement before he handed the folded handkerchief to you. “For you.” He offered. 

“Really? Thank you so much! It’s even my favorite color!” You gushed excitedly which had Ester and Xander smiling knowingly at each other. Oh this was going to be fun. 

[lil-scoot-toot]

There is Road Left in Both of Our Shoes - Chapter 1

Hey yall this is just something I started working on because I was waiting for more keys so I could continue the game after Julian decides he wants to try to handle things on his own.  This is my first time playing The Arcana and I really didn’t know like where it was gonna go at all so I just kinda decided that I wanted to continue the story myself.  Once I did finally get to the next chapter or book or whatever I was like “hmm wow I don’t think MC is mad enough” so this is just part one of a mostly non canonical story that I’m going to be working on with my MC Persephone aka Percy for short.  Idk if anyone else will like it but I figured I would share.  Check it out under the cut if you are interested.  Sorry it’s pretty long.

My fingers curled, grasping at the edge of the counter as I decided weather or not to close up shop.  Business was slow this evening and I couldn’t get him off my mind no matter how hard I tried to shake him.  Weeks had passed since I watched Doctor Devorak walk away from the front steps of the shop after our night by the docks.  My cheeks tingled from the memory of where he’d planted his goodbye kisses, but soon burnt red hot from embarrassment.  How could I let myself get so caught up, so enchanted by him?  I wasn’t some lovesick teenager! So why did it hurt so much to even think about him?  Julian… I shook my head, the knot in my stomach pulling tighter as I thought about his hands on the back of my neck, my fingers entangled in his messy red hair, the smell of Mazelinka’s soup wafting through the warm air around us. Kisses by the water, the salty ocean air, the warmth of his body, his breath, the sad look on his face when we finally pulled away from each other while crashing waves filled the silence between us.  Images of the days and nights we spent together flashed in my mind, causing a lump to form in my throat.  Weeks had passed since then and then a month, two months…  Would he ever return? Was he safe? Had he met someone else?

           What’s it gonna take a damn mind erasing spell?  Get it together Persephone! I wished I could wash myself clean of him, but he was under my skin, some essence of him had made its way into my bloodstream causing a longing unlike any I’d felt before… The years I’d spent pining for Asra were nothing compared to this ache.  At least Asra and I are friends, despite the secrets he continues to keep from me, at least he would never rip me apart at the seams like this.  

           “Dammit!”  The word slipped past my lips in a hiss as I pounded my fist on the counter.  Lucky Asra was off on another quest as I couldn’t stand the looks of pity he’d been throwing my way recently when he thought I wasn’t looking.  I could already hear him crack some lame joke about not breaking the counter too.  “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” I continued to slam my fist into the solid wood until I couldn’t stand the pain. As I looked at my knuckles, bruised and a little bloodied, a tinge of shame crept through me.  That’s it.  It was definitely time to close up shop for the day.  Of course, just as I decided on locking up, the bell on the door chimed alerting me to an entering customer.  I looked up from my throbbing hand and my stomach sank.

“Long time no see.”  He bore that stupid smirk as he closed and locked the door behind him in one swift motion.  Tears began to well in my eyes, obscuring my vision but I blinked them away, trying to make sense of the man standing before me.  He ran his gloved fingers through his scarlet locks and rubbed the back of his head seemingly searching for words as I stared him down.

           “Get out.”  The words left my lips before I even had a chance to think.  “Jul-just, just get out, Dr. Devorak.”  I sputtered, trying my best to erase any intimacy that may have existed between us.

           “I’m sorry,” He put his hands up as if to show submission, “…Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

           “You’re damn right! Especially after all the trouble Portia went through to get you out of the city.”  My emotions began to boil over, there was no masking the contempt in my words.  They dripped with the venom I’d been storing up within myself for the past two months. I didn’t care what he wanted or what he had to say.  Looking at him made me ache and recoil from wanting and disdain all at once.  

           “I’m sorry, Percy… Please let me explain.”  My nickname felt like a sharp dagger in my heart when it left his lips.  He took a few steps towards the counter, long strides bringing him close enough for his scent to carry through the air.  His overcoat was missing and his white shirt, hardly buttoned, bellowed open showing his pale chest.  

           “Please.”  The word a soft whisper as I began to lose my resolve. Please what? Please leave? Please stay? Please explain yourself?  Tears once again threatened to escape but I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure. The distinct taste of iron washed over my tongue; I bit down much harder than I realized.

           “Dear… You’ve hurt yourself.”  He made his way around the counter, towering over me to inspect my lip.  Placing a finger on my chin he tilted my head up and bent down, his face mere inches from mine.  A fire erupted in me as his tongue lapped hungrily at the blood still seeping from my bottom lip and for a few moments I gave in, standing on my tip toes to grasp at the nape of his neck and pull him in closer, pressing my lips to his, allowing his tongue entrance, savoring his familiar taste.  Our bodies moved together to an unheard rhythm, as if we had spent no time apart at all.  As if he never left.  That’s right.  I let my hand slide down to his chest and pushed him away before wiping blood and spit off my mouth with the back of my hand.

           “As if you care.” My heart raced in my chest, pounding in my ears, my knees threatened to give out at any moment.

           “You look faint, have you been eating?”  He eyed my body under my dark, flowing clothes which hung more loosely than usual around my petite frame.        

           “Stop it, Julian.” I took a step back but had to brace myself on a nearby stool.  When Asra was around I put on a show, pretending I was getting better, but with him in and out of the shop so often the past couple weeks I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to my health.  Most days I would choke down some light broth if I was hungry enough and most nights I’d pass out from exhaustion after tossing and turning in my bed worrying about the man now standing before me.

           “Stop what?”  His eyes peered into mine as if he might find the answers there and worry lined his face.

           “Just stop.  I can’t.  I can’t do this.”   A sudden rush of heat came over me as the room started to spin.  Unable to find my footing I fell back with too much force for the stool to support. I braced myself for impact but Julian, swift as ever, caught me before I could hit the ground.  

           “You haven’t been taking care of yourself at all have you?” He picked me up bridal style with little effort.  

           “Stop pretending to care.”  I didn’t have it in me to struggle as he carried me up the stairs to my room. “Just take whatever you came for and leave.”  He set me down gently on the bed, a long sigh escaping him as he furrowed his brow.

           “Is that what you think of me?  I can’t say I blame you.”  He placed the back of his slender hand gently on my forehead and then my cheeks and then my forehead one more time.  His hands were cold as always and offered some relief to the heat radiating throughout my body.  Despite my anger, his touch caused butterflies to flutter in my empty stomach before it let out a small grumble.  “You’re burning up.  You should get out of those clothes.   I’ll make you something to eat.”  I wanted to respond, wanted to yell at him, wanted to pound on his chest and demand answers but it felt as if a fog was rolling over me, so I simply complied to the best of my abilities as he quickly marched down the stairs.  It was only now that I realized how badly my hands were shaking, as I struggled to untie the intricate knots which held my outfit together, the buttons on my pants were another story and I gave up, my top half off with my light undershirt exposed.  I was never one for fancy bras or corsets, it’s not like I needed them, my breasts were small enough to be concealed by undershirts and often even without one.

           Another wave of dizziness washed over me as I let one leg hang off the bed, trying to touch the ground. Why is this bed so damn high up?  My toes barely reached, and the position did nothing to help me.  Time passed and I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of my heart pounding in my chest, I wondered if Julian was even really there. Perhaps I was imagining it.  My hand went to my lips as I recalled the kiss we shared, the warmth of his body.  No there’s no way I was imagining, the forces that be would not be so cruel to me. I tried again to fiddle with the buttons on my undershirt, feeling as if someone was sitting on my chest preventing me from catching my breath.  Panicked, I began to lose control of my breathing as a few of the buttons finally came undone leaving me rather exposed.  My concern was with my breathing though as it only grew more and more difficult to get any air at all.  I must have been wheezing quite loudly because suddenly Julian was at my side concern showing on his pale face.  I hadn’t even noticed him come up the stairs.

           “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”  He was panicked which was not helping me.  I felt like a fish out of water gasping for air and my heart, christ it felt like it was about to explode but I couldn’t articulate this to Julian in my current state instead I grabbed his hand and placed it on my exposed chest so he could feel my accelerated heartbeat.  A panic attack… Of course, I couldn’t believe it took either of us so long to realize what was happening.  It wasn’t my first, but it was definitely the worst one I’d experienced in recent memory, amplified by fatigue and the shock of seeing Julian, though I did not want to admit the latter.  

           “Ah I see.”  He seemed to regain his composure though a deep blush crossed his cheeks and made its way down his chest as he inspected me further.  “I’m sorry.” For some reason his continued apologies only served to tick me off, but I knew I needed his help, so I swallowed my pride.  He let his palm linger on my chest a moment longer before he joined me on the bed, sitting me up so that he could lean on the headrest behind me.  I curled up between his legs, my head resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through my short dark hair and took deep even breaths.  I tried to focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, his fingers gently combing through my hair.

           “You’re okay,” He whispered in my ear, giving me goosebumps, “just breathe with me, don’t force it.  Listen to my voice, breathe in, hold it, breathe out.”  He continued to instruct me, cradling me in his arms.  His voice was a gentle hum I’d never heard from him before.  At last my heart rate returned to a normal, steady pace and I felt the sweet relief of air entering my lungs.  Though certainly not a full breath it was enough for me to begin to calm down.  In through the nose, out through the mouth. I repeated this simple mantra over and over.  Each breath I took deeper than the last until my breathing returned to normal. Finally, the fog began to lift a bit and I thanked the forces for every bit of oxygen that passed through my lungs. As soon as I realized I was okay I scrambled to get out of Julian’s embrace, choosing to sit on the foot of the bed and face him.  His gaze darted around the room as if he was desperate not to make eye contact, though I did catch him eyeing my chest a few times.

           “Do you have panic attacks often?” Finally, he met my gaze, his cheeks tinged a deep pink as he realized I’d caught him staring.

           “What are you doing here?”  I ignored his question feeling mine was more important anyway.

           “Well… As it turns out,” His hand went to the back of his head again his discomfort showing plainly on his face, “Why don’t we discuss this over some food huh?  Are you able to get up?”  Leave it to Julian to change the subject.

           “Answer me, Doctor.”

           “Percy, please…”

           “Answer me!”

           He stared down at his hands at some point he’d removed his gloves.  With a finger he traced the mark that branded him a killer.  My head was swirling with so many questions and even more anger but behind it all was relief, at least he was okay for now. The room began to spin again, and I brought my hand to my head, hoping to calm it.

           “Look, I made us some food so let’s just go downstairs and discuss things.”  I could tell by the look on his face that he was not going to relent so I gave in instead muttering a “fine” and stepping off the bed. “Ahem, but you may want to um… Cover up if you want me to be able to focus on matters at hand.”  Too tired to even feel embarrassed I buttoned up my undershirt and we made our way down the stairs.  My legs felt like jello and I clung to the bannister, refusing any more help from Julian despite his continued attempts at steadying me.  A spread of cheese and cured meats (which I bought at the market to prepare for Asra’s impending return) sat in the middle of the table, a few slices of bread placed neatly on two plates opposite of each other.  Did he really consider this “making” something?  I had to suppress the urge to tease him about it.  Julian pulled my chair out for me, insisting on helping me to my seat.  Admittedly after that ordeal I was ravenous, and I ate quickly, ready to get the answers to my questions.

           “So,” I took another bite of bread before continuing, “What are you doing here, Julian?”  My words were cold as ice and he grimaced at my harsh tone.

           “I thought I could figure out what happened on my own,” He started, again avoiding my gaze as he spoke, “…But I can’t.”  I couldn’t help but scoff at his answer.

           “So now that you need something from me you think you can just come prancing back here?  Do you think I’m stupid?”  A full stomach gave me the energy to show my true anger and I was not planning on holding back.  “You think you can just say “I’m no good” “I’ll only hurt you” “I have no future” and disappear like that after… After we grew so close and then expect me to welcome you with open arms because you need help now?  As if I wasn’t willing to help you months ago?” This time I didn’t fight back my tears.  “Well you’re right,” I continued, “You’re an asshole Julian!” I jumped to my feet and slammed my hands down onto the table causing it to shake but he barely seemed to react.

           “Please just hear me out…” He struggled to find the words to say but this time he looked straight into my eyes, unwavering.  “I fucked up, you’re right but I didn’t only come back because I need help.  In fact, I’m not even sure you’ll be able to help me, actually, it’s just that I-.”

           “Then why are you here?” I cut him off.  “Why are you in my shop, in my home stirring up trouble for me again?  Imagine if someone saw you here! If Nadia found out that you’re back in Vesuvia! What if you were caught? You’re such an idiot!  A selfish idiot!” My words spilled from me as swiftly as my tears, but the doctor simply stood up calmly, closing the space between us to wipe the tears away.

           “You’re right, I am. I…I shouldn’t have come back.  I’m sorry. I’ll be going now.  Perhaps in another life…”  He trailed off and made his way to the door.  I could feel my heart breaking all over again, I wanted to tell him to stay but I couldn’t bare to look at him a second longer.

           “Fine.  Run away Julian.  It seems to be the only thing you’re good at.”  I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but it was too late to take them back.  Turning to look at me for a moment, pain etched into his pallid face Julian opened his mouth to speak but seemed to change his mind, disappearing into the night much like he had two months prior.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine fic - “The Prince and His Stable Hand: Chapter 1 - The Prince’s Stable Hand” (NC17)

Blaine is a prince, betrothed to wed the Princess Rachel Berry, but he has secret desires that his new wife will never be able to fulfill.

But the handsome young man who tends his father's stables definitely can. (4278 words this chapter)

Notes: This is a re-write. I have set it in the vague 1800s, with no real indication of a locale. Historical romance. Warning for Dom/sub, whipping, bondage, and arranged marriage.

Read on AO3.

Blaine stood dutifully in the courtyard and watched Princess Berry’s carriage pull away. The four white stallions at the lead trotted down the winding stone drive, the clacking of their hooves bombarding the still, night air with their rhythmic cadence. A dainty, white-gloved hand waved from within the darkened window, a lace handkerchief clutched between pinched fingers, its owner shrouded by shadows. Blaine didn’t need to see her to visualize her auburn hair spilling down her shoulders, her lightly sun-kissed skin, her deep brown eyes, her baby pink bodice laced so tightly around her petite frame that Blaine feared she might actually have suffered a broken rib or two.

He raised his gloved hand and waved back, the smile plastered on his face growing less and less sincere as the carriage drove farther away toward the black iron gates that surrounded the grounds. Before the carriage reached them, Princess Berry released the handkerchief, leaving it behind as a token for her betrothed. The lacey fabric billowed in the air, floating freely in the wake of the carriage as the team gained speed and bustled away.  The evening breeze caught the handkerchief, swirled it through the air, and then settled it on the lawn. Prince Blaine stared at the thing, a white stain on the lush green grass, his lip curled in disgust.

“Would you like me to fetch that for you, Your Highness?” Sebastian, the captain of the prince’s guard, asked with a smirk.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Blaine muttered, turning angrily from the moonlit scene and storming away.

“Where are you going, Your Highness?” Sebastian called after him, a thinly veiled taunt in his voice. The day spent guarding the awkward couple had been dreadfully dull and long for Sebastian, but it was worth it to watch the prince forced to play nice for that vain and shallow fiancée of his. “What should I tell the king if he asks for you?”

Blaine yanked off his gloves and chucked them one by one over his shoulder.

“If he ever removes his dick from the downstairs maid, you can tell him I’ll see him in hell!” Blaine snapped without slowing his stride.

Sebastian shook his head, watching noble Prince Blaine stomp away like a spoiled child. Sebastian knew he was pushing his luck teasing the prince the way he did, but he possessed more luck than most to push. He and Blaine had been friends since birth. Both nursed by Sebastian’s own mother, they were nearly brothers. Sebastian knew Blaine better than anyone in the kingdom, definitely better than the prince’s parents, which was why, despite all his taunting, his heart broke for Blaine. He saw the prince’s footsteps falter on the cobblestones as he made his way with a purpose toward the stables, and knew the man was holding back sobs … or screams.

Or both.

Sometimes the worst curse in the world could be the circumstances of birth, for rich and poor alike.

Blaine didn’t choose who he was or the way he loved, but the fact of the matter was that Blaine was born a prince. He had duties and responsibilities. He needed to be a role model - a shining example to his kingdom. Those responsibilities included marrying well … and producing an heir.

Sebastian turned to the rest of the complement watching their prince with interest, the scene most assuredly feeding rumors that would circulate like wildfire later in the drunken revelry of the evening. One or two guards even wore the shadows of grins on their faces. Sebastian scowled, and their grins beat a hasty retreat.

“None of you know where the prince is headed, do you?” Sebastian bellowed to the guards. When no one answered, Sebastian repeated loudly, “Do you!?”

“No, sir,” they answered in unison.

“Good,” Sebastian said, knowing in his heart that keeping them quiet through fear only worked for so long. “Keep your mouths shut and you might not be working in the kitchens come morning.”

***

Blaine concentrated on the click of his footsteps on the stones to scrub his mind clean of Rachel Berry - his intended - and her inane chatter. She talked all day long about everything and nothing, rarely giving Blaine’s ears a rest.

“Oh, Your Highness!” she blathered over breakfast. “What an amazing pianoforte you have in the palace! I’m sure I’ll never tire of playing while I’m here. It’s my one true passion!”

“Did I tell you, Prince Blaine?” she jabbered during their walk in the garden after lunch. “I have the most marvelous design for a tabletop that I would love to paint for my sitting room!”

“Does the prince enjoy theater?” she chittered as they took a carriage ride over the grounds. “Oh, I do love the theater. The costumes, the singing - especially the love stories …”

She sat close by his side and put a bold hand on his knee. Then she proceeded to sing from her favorite score. She sang and she quipped and she barely drew a breath. So many times he wished he could scream, ‘Do shut the fuck up!’ Blaine wasn’t ashamed of his indifference toward the girl. He had no intention of leading her on. He was sure that he had made it quite clear on several occasions that this ‘marriage’ was one of no consequence to him. He wasn’t marrying for love.

He had his suspicions that neither was she, she was simply better at masking her displeasure. She might hold some disdain for him, but she stood to benefit a great deal better by their marriage than he, so she had more reason to act cordial. His father could back out of this arrangement at any time.

He could, but Blaine knew he wouldn’t.

The bastard.

Blaine made his way to the stables, pleased to see the windows glowing with lamplight from within, so much warmer and more inviting than a single room in the whole of his palace. He had already undone the buttons to his coat, tearing a few in his haste to be rid of the damned thing. This one in particular fit too tightly around his chest and restricted his breathing, but he was allowed to wear no other - another cage that being royal kept him confined in.

He burst through the door, sighing in relief at the sight of Kurt, pitchfork in hand, laying fresh hay for the horses in their stalls. Through his loose-fitting linen shirt, Blaine could see the muscles in Kurt’s arms shift and stretch, bulging beneath flawless, pale skin. Blaine admired how Kurt kept his skin perfect despite the labor he performed every day. Though Blaine would rather see him stationed in the palace, sleeping on a bed of feathers instead of a humble mattress of hay, covered in satins and silks, and bathed perfumes, within a stone’s throw of the prince’s own bedroom.

But then they might not be able to do what Blaine had come here for.

“Why does it always reek of horse shit in here?” Blaine asked to announce his presence.

“Because this is a stable, Your Highness. It’s full of horses and their shit.”

Kurt did not turn from his work, but spied the prince loosening the collar of his shirt from the corner of his eye, and nibbled his lower lip in secret. But from Blaine’s perspective, Kurt continued on as if he weren’t there, effectively ignoring the prince and his mounting frustrations.

“Well, do you think you could cease shoveling and spare a moment for me?”

“A moment with you will turn into the entire evening, sire.” Kurt chuckled. “Let me get these poor animals fed so I can take my time with you.”

Blaine pushed past Kurt and headed for the rear of the stable, straight to Kurt’s quarters.

“Eager tonight, aren’t we?” Kurt prodded. “But that will not hurry me along, I’m afraid.” He heard the prince curse underneath his breath and chuckled. He had no desire to incur the prince’s ire, but he liked taking advantage of the fact that here, in this stable, where he had total control, he had permission to treat his prince so familiar. Besides, he caught a glimpse of the prince’s ‘playdate’ with the Princess Berry. Kurt knew very well the prince’s pain.

He carried it as well.

Kurt gave the broodmare in the stall an extra helping of oats and patted her on the back. She would foal soon, and it made Kurt’s chest tighten with bittersweet hopes and dreams, each one fracturing a bit every day that the prince’s wedding drew near. Horses had such simple lives. They lived in the stables and galloped in the yards, their every need provided for. They ran where their wills took them, and they fucked where they pleased. In the stable of the king, the horses were neither traded nor sold, and his favorites, cared for by Kurt, never went to war. How wonderful it would be to live out his life as a horse, Kurt thought.

Then he rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.

He followed the prince to his room and saw him struggling with his clothes. He managed to tear off the coat and toss it on Kurt’s bed, but the shirt, along with the corset underneath, was giving him some trouble.

“Could we just get this started?” Blaine growled, nearly ripping off the uncooperative garments. Kurt caught the shirt when it finally slipped from Blaine’s shoulders and hung it along with the coat on a dull hook in the corner. Then he helped Blaine remove the corset. He loosened one lace at a time slowly so that Blaine’s lungs didn’t fill too quickly and cause him to pass out. Kurt could appreciate a sturdy corset, but not like this one, worn solely for looks. But this wasn’t vanity. In the case of the prince, Blaine’s father forced it on him to keep him from slouching in the presence of the princess - so he didn’t show with his body the resentment he felt.

Blaine far from needed a corset. His shoulders broad, his waist trim, his arms muscular, he cut a handsome figure in a properly fitted coat. Kurt could see that figure now, emerging from underneath cotton and bone. And though Kurt didn’t approve of the corset, the marks it left behind, running vertically on Blaine’s olive skin, made him hotter than a brick oven cooking in the middle of July.

Kurt removed the corset completely, and Blaine stood before him shirtless, back turned, chest heaving in anticipation. Kurt took a moment to appreciate the body of the man who’d started coming to him more and more recently in need of release … and sometimes, in need of comfort. Kurt rounded on Blaine and stood before him, stripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside, allowing the prince time to lay eyes on his body. He wore only his leather work pants, the material clinging like a second skin to his thighs. Kurt let Blaine’s eyes wander where they pleased, let him gawk openly, but once Kurt saw the bulge in the front of Blaine’s pants grow with interest, he knew Blaine had seen enough. Kurt pointed sharply to the ground, and seeing the signal from his Dom, Blaine lowered his eyes to the floor.

“Arms out,” Kurt commanded, no more need for ceremony or fancy titles now that Blaine had silently shown his willingness to submit.

Blaine raised his arms and grabbed the posts at either side of him, keeping his eyes downcast while his Dom worked. Kurt bound Blaine’s wrists to the wood, wrapping them with leather straps and pulling the ends tight. The prince sighed when the leather bit into his skin.

“You like that?” Kurt ran a hand up Blaine’s spine, rubbing his shoulders and pushing down on his bowed neck. “Of course, you do. You always do.”

Without permission to speak, Blaine stood obediently and listened.

In the confines of Kurt’s quarters, his sub didn’t always have permission to speak.

He had permission to scream, but that could be taken away.

Kurt stole a moment to clean up, washing the filth from his body with water from a basin beside his bed. He grimaced when the water turned brown with dust, as did the cloth he wiped down with. He wished he could wash himself a bit more thoroughly, but that would require drawing a bath.

They didn’t have that kind of time.

He opened a chest on the floor and pulled out a braided whip, along with a pair of leather gloves, both gifts from the prince after the first time Blaine wandered down to the stables in search of Kurt’s services. At the time, Blaine barely knew himself, barely understood where his strange urges came from. He had noticed Kurt before. Of course he had. Who but the blind could not? He was fair and strong, but kept mostly to himself. God, he seemed so quiet, so innocent to Blaine’s eyes.

After watching Kurt spend the afternoon breaking a new pair of stallions – a gift from the Belgium ambassador – Blaine simply knew.

He knew what he needed, and that night, he sought Kurt out – to have Kurt break him like one of his horses.

They taught each other, learned together, and as time passed, Blaine came to Kurt almost nightly, until the marks on his back frightened his servants. They would have sent most of the household into a fury had it not been for Sebastian and his uncanny ability to stop wagging tongues.

Falling in love with Kurt … well, that was something that Blaine hadn’t expected.

Kurt slipped the gloves over his hands, and then ran his hands all over Blaine’s body, starting down at his ankles, drawing his hands up Blaine’s legs, firmly massaging the muscles of the prince’s thighs, brushing over the outline of his hard cock aching in the restrictive pants. Kurt would have taken great pleasure in grabbing the impressive length and stroking it until Blaine came, but he knew that wasn’t what the prince needed. His hands traveled up Blaine’s flanks and his chest, pinching both nipples hard and soliciting a stifled groan. Kurt hugged Blaine from behind, fitting their bodies together so that Blaine could feel every plane of his body against him.

Kurt felt Blaine lean back toward him, longing to be close to him.

“That’ll come soon enough,” Kurt said. “That’ll come as soon as you do, sweetheart.”

Kurt released him and stepped away. Blaine whimpered beneath his breath.

“Was there something you wanted to say, sweetheart?” Kurt picked up his whip, feeling the weight of it in his hand, holding it so the braid didn’t brush against the dirty floor. He came back to where the prince stood and rested his head against the man’s shoulder.

Blaine shivered, holding on by a thread, and Kurt hadn’t even started yet.

“Please …” Blaine breathed, his voice heavy with desperation. “Help me …”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Kurt whispered, letting the words fall over Blaine’s shoulders and slide down his skin.

Kurt moved away, and without any warning, snapped the whip. The first crack of Kurt’s whip didn’t connect to Blaine’s skin; it was only meant to prepare him for what was to come. The sound of it, the promise in that sound as it struck the air, filled Blaine’s body with a surge of heat. It loosened every muscle, unbottled his inhibitions - gave him permission to be a man, not a prince. Kurt ran the leather braid over Blaine’s skin with light strokes, watching goosebumps blossom on the prince’s tan back and arms. The prince’s skin, pulled tight over his muscular frame, made Kurt’s mouth water. He knew how it tasted, how it felt beneath his tongue, how it felt against his back when Blaine pounded into him from behind.

Kurt walked back a few paces and watched Blaine prepare for the first hit, his muscles tightening to absorb the blow. It made Kurt immensely hard to watch such a powerful man like Prince Blaine, shrewd and clever, feared by his enemies and loved by his kingdom, submit. He took his time, eyeing the area right beside his spine where thin, white marks had already healed over other lighter, silvery marks. He raised his arm, but before he could bring the whip down, he heard one last, soft plea from the prince’s lips.

“Kurt?”

The whip cut through the air, the end of it slicing Blaine’s back. The tethered prince threw his head back and screamed through clenched teeth.

“God!” he groaned, breathing out quickly.

“I love the way you sound the first time,” Kurt moaned. “I love hearing you scream.”

“More,” Blaine begged. “Please, or I’m going to go mad.”

“No one told you to speak,” Kurt said with delight, holding his whip at bay.

Blaine dropped his head and whined, pressing his lips into a tight line to keep from making any more remarks, one in particular on the tip of his tongue that would most likely have him untied and sent home.

Kurt watched Blaine’s breathing slow, his body relax, and when calm had overtaken him, Kurt brought the whip down again, moving closer so more of the braid bit into his back.

“Augh! Christ!” Blaine growled, his arms shaking, tugging reflexively against the straps binding his wrists and pulling them tighter.

Kurt held tight to the whip handle, feeling his heart race in his chest. Another crack of his whip cutting into Blaine’s back made the prince’s knees buckle. He grabbed at the wooden posts and held firm, righting his feet beneath him. Kurt brought the whip down again, harder than before, and the scream that escaped the prince’s throat morphed into a moan. His knees buckled again, and this time, he almost fell to the floor.

“Now, now,” Kurt tutted, swallowing down the stirrings of his own erection, begging to be free from his pants. “We wouldn’t want you breaking your pretty little wrists. Stand up like the good boy you are.”

Blaine regained his footing, his knees wobbling as he waited.

Kurt reached down a gloved hand, snaked it beneath the waist of his pants, and grabbed his cock. He held himself, squeezing below the head, suppressing the craving to stroke. Holding his hard length in his hand, he brought the whip down again, and again, harder, and then less so, letting Blaine’s mutters and groans fuel his desires. Blaine held on to the posts, fingers straining, knuckles white, while his body slumped and his knees fought to keep him upright. Four more stripes and Blaine’s back was nearly painted red, but still he begged for more.

“Do you want to cum, Blaine?” Kurt asked, his voice low, merely a rumble in the back of his throat. He approached the prince slowly, letting Blaine hear every footfall on the floor behind him. Kurt surveyed the crisscross marks on Blaine’s back, wondering how it felt, how he could get off on being whipped the way he did, but the look of them, slightly grotesque and swollen, knowing that Blaine enjoyed them, made Kurt long for release himself. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Y-y-yes,” Blaine mumbled, his voice struggling to be heard past the chattering of his teeth.

“Do you want to cum off the end of my whip, Blaine?”

“Y-y-yes.” Blaine’s voice was nearly inaudible this time, but Kurt didn’t need to hear him say it. The answer was the same every time.

Kurt retreated again, forgetting the pain of his erection to focus on what he knew would happen next. He brought the whip down lightly on Blaine’s shoulder, but it was enough to make him weak. One more time on the opposite shoulder almost obliterated his grasp on the wooden post.

“Oh, God,” Blaine whispered into the air. Kurt could tell from his breathy gasp that he almost had him. The whip snapped at Blaine’s lower back, in those dimples where Kurt loved to fit his hands when they got the chance to make love. Blaine’s hips lurched forward, and a quiet, “yes,” passed his lips.

One more. Kurt knew he only needed one more, and he picked his spot carefully, a spot that had taken hours of practicing on those nights when he slept alone to perfect.

A spot that had become the prince’s favorite by far.

Kurt snapped the whip out along Blaine’s waist, where the braided length wrapped around his hip and hit his throbbing cock, with enough force to sting, but not enough to do any damage.

But it was all he needed.

“Fuck!” Blaine moaned and came with a string of muttered curses, his knees giving out and his wrists pulling on the leather straps until Kurt thought they might dislocate. Kurt dropped his whip and rushed over with a tall stool for the prince to drop down onto, giving Kurt time to undo the leather straps from the posts, and then from Blaine’s wrists, taking care with the sore, broken skin.

“Kurt … I …” Blaine muttered with his eyes half-lidded, lust blown pupils searching Kurt’s body while he worked. The fingers of Blaine’s freed left hand toyed at the strings of Kurt’s pants while Kurt worked to untie the left.

“Blaine …” Kurt warned, panting as tired, shaking fingertips brushed the head of his neglected erection.

“Kurt,” Blaine mumbled, “I want to …”

“No, Your Highness,” Kurt said firmly. He wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist and lifted him from the stool, helping Blaine limp his way onto the bed. “You can barely stand.”

“I don’t … need to stand … for what I have in mind,” Blaine stuttered. Kurt suddenly got a vivid image of his gorgeous prince on his knees, pink lips stretched around his cock, taking him down his throat to the hilt, sparkling hazel eyes staring up at him with no shame, no superiority, no lines or borders or boundaries between them. It was almost a tempting enough image to make Kurt give in, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t feel right. It would feel like taking advantage of a tired and wounded man.

“Maybe when you can stand on your own, I’ll let you,” Kurt said, trying to think of anything he could to make his persistent hard-on die.

There was a bull calf in the north quarter that he’d need to castrate on the morrow, he reminded himself, sure that that would do the trick.

It didn’t. In a way, it only made things worse, which, in turn, made him question his moral compass.

He laid Blaine down on his stomach. He emptied and cleaned his basin, then refilled it with clean water. He dusted the cool liquid with herbs that he remembered his mother using to heal cuts and bruises when he was younger, long before he entered the king’s service. They worked well against infection and cut down the sting, but most of all, they sped the scabbing of the wounds. Any mark on the prince’s skin stabbed at Kurt, regardless of how erotic whipping him felt.

Kurt emptied and refilled the basin three times before the prince’s wounds were well cleaned. He undressed the prince, pulling off his shoes, pants, and stockings, exposing him to the cool, soothing air. Then Kurt disrobed and climbed onto the bed beside him. Blaine reached out instinctually to find Kurt, to hold his hand or touch his shoulder, anything to let him know that Kurt was there beside him. Blaine had often said that Kurt was his anchor, and that without him, he would feel adrift, floating here and there with no place to call home.

It was difficult to believe those words sometimes, considering all that would befall them in the days and weeks to come, but they were nice to hear all the same.

“You will be staying on here, will you not? After I am wed?” Blaine asked. It was a question made of more than one feeling. It was a statement, a command, a prince relaying an order that would be followed without dispute; but it was also a plea, a hope, a gentle request.

“I was not commanded otherwise,” Kurt replied, sheltering his smile. Blaine laced their fingers together. He brought Kurt’s hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“Will you be telling Princess Berry about us then?”

Blaine’s kisses stopped, and Kurt wished he could take his question back, but he also needed to know.

“Why would she need to know?”

“Well, she is to be your wife,” Kurt said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“No,” Blaine said, a catch splintering his voice. “No, she doesn’t. I will not share you and I will not lose you. Do you understand?”

“But I’m sharing you,” Kurt grumbled.

“It’s not the same and you know it.”

“But …”

“No, Kurt! It’s different! You understand, don’t you?” Blaine let out a shuddering breath. “P-please say you do.”

Kurt sighed, sinking further into the thin mattress with his arm wrapped around the prince’s middle, avoiding putting too much pressure on his back.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He leaned over to kiss Blaine’s cheek. “I understand.”

Kurt drew his blanket over them. He kissed Blaine softly on the nape of his neck, feeling the body in his arms relax at the touch of his lips. Kurt let his breathing follow Blaine’s till they inhaled together and exhaled together, drifting off to sleep with a sympathetic Sebastian guarding the stable door, ready to wake his prince before dawn.

[ninjazaku]

Windows to the Soul: Chapter 2

There are some discrepancies between this chapter and chapter 1, but just go with whatever this chapter says. Will also be posting Chapter 3 shortly

The flights from Colorado to Japan were long, numerous and tedious. The decision was made by the students taking the UA Entrance exam from Gabbie and Ian’s “Future Heroes of Colorado” (FHC) Club from Aeternus would have to make a stop in California two nights before to allow for time for, not only the flight the next morning, but emotional preparation as well. Furthermore, they would spend the evening after the exam in japan, before flying out the next morning. Thus, making the exam trip a total 4-day, 3-night trip. The students collectively got together with their teachers and all took an integrated test that replaced any projects they would be missing. The condition was made that any students who failed this exam would not be allowed to go. Of the members of the FHC club, 5 passed their tests.

The students departed from the airport mid-morning and arrived in California in the early afternoon of their trip’s first day. The day was made an event full of visiting the beach and a few tourist traps, walking along the shoreline, and buying some merchandise that of course the high schoolers could take home to their families. As the teenagers made the way back to the hotel closest to the airport Ian lingered at the beach, removing his glasses for a moment. He watched the sun set and awed at the colors that only he could see. He stayed there as the dusk set over the horizon, even as his eyes began to ache, eventually placing his glasses back upon his brow and walking back to the hotel were his classmates were staying overnight and hurriedly began preparing themselves the next morning.

[Begin Ambiance Track 1: I See Fire]

The class spent most of their time on the night before the exam secluded from each other, as they would have to the following day. Ian and Gabbie, however, sat together in a nearby park. The two were lit up by one of Ian’s light constructs, shimmering in between them, warming the young siblings on the cold February evening. Gabbie had a pair of protective earplugs in, muffling the sound of the city around them - a common practice ever since a period of overconfidence in her abilities some years back resulted in her cat-like ears carrying into her human form. Her nervous system, unfortunately, did not mutate to match the new auditory input and Gabbie found that her ears could cause auditory overload if she wasn’t careful. In the following years Gabbie and Ian took up sign language in the periods Gabbie needed to rest her ears. They even took up Japanese Sign Language as a third language, supplementing the Japanese language lessons they took to prepare for the UA exam.

-Are you ready for tomorrow?- Gabbie signed to her brother.

-No.- Was Ian’s response. The two shared a minute of laughter, tucking their heads into their chests as they snickered.

-Not gonna lie, even to make me feel better?- Gabbie asked silently

-Never. Honesty is my policy.-

-You’re so boring, little bro.-

-Hey, be nice! I’m allowed to be nervous when we’re hours away from the moment we’ve been preparing for since we were six years old.-

-...It really is hard to believe it’s finally here. Tomorrow we go to UA and take the exam that could determine our entire future.- Gabbie’s hands dropped after she signed the last word and her ears drooped for a moment. Ian tapped the bench they were sitting on to get her attention after a moment passed.

-We’ll be okay. Even if we’re going to have to be tested alone, we’ll still have each other in spirit. Forever, remember? We promised.- Ian offered his extended pinky as he ended his sentence.

Gabbie smiled and locked pinkies with her brother. The two continued their silent conversation for a while longer before retiring to their rooms, hoping to get some quality rest before the exam.

The next morning

The chill of the February morning bit at the skin of the students walking on the pavement as the sun rose on UA High School. Ian and Gabbie had arrived a good length of time before the exam was even set to start, as had their classmates. The two siblings meandered around the area outside the school, their special security badges slung around their necks. Ian’s eyes shifted from one color to the next as he took in the sights around them. Gabbie, still partially asleep, sipped on an energy drink and let out a squeaky, cat-like yawn. The two were caught off guard when two of their own classmates were hurled towards them and promptly hid behind Gabbie.

“Jesus, I knew today was going to be scary but I wasn’t ready for this!” The smaller of the two boys peeped.

“Save us, Gabbie!” whined the larger, rounder of the two.

“Ai, what trouble have you two stumbled into now?” Gabbie groaned, crunching her empty soda can and tossing it into a nearby trash bin.

The two pointed at a small-framed girl wearing mostly dark clothing leaning against a nearby pillar, reading a book and mumbling to herself.

“You two disappoint me in so many ways.” Gabbie sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to nurse the budding headache her classmates were causing her. “How could that sweet looking girl scare you this badly?”

“She’s a witch, man!” The larger boy stammered “Nobody’s Quirk could be that...weird!”

“Okay” Ian scoffed, rolling his eyes “So we’re going to ignore that the principal of this school is literally a talking animal, then.”

“No, magic is the much more sensible conclusion to this scenario.”  Gabbie snickered. The two boys shoved Gabbie and Ian towards their assailant and the duo began strolling towards her. As Ian looked back, he saw the two approached by a small boy with purple hair, and the three began to socialize and laugh.

The new girl was small framed, but only a few inches shorter than Gabbie. Sharpened teeth poked out from her mouth, and her lips were colored black by lipstick. An observant onlooker could see a small beauty mark dotting her cheek, just shy the bottom right corner of her mouth Her hair was a deep crimson at the roots, but an artificial grey could be seen from a previous coloring, starting at about halfway down the length and stopping at the end of her hair, which was just long enough to extend past her jawline. Five dark horizontal lines scored both her cheeks, starting at the top of the cheekbone and getting fainter as they descended. Her ears were pointed like a creature from fantasy, and they twitched as Gabbie and Ian approached. Her eyes flickered up from the book in her hand, and the two were caught off guard by the brilliant lilac color that shone from the girl’s eyes.

The loud THUMP of the girl’s book closing earned a jump from Ian. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and turned to face the newcomers. Looking at her outfit - Gabbie could see why her classmates were crying witchcraft, even if it was a stupid idea. She wore some skin-tight grey jeans with the knees torn out, with a pair of knee-high boots pulled over them. The boots had buckles running up the sides, and were black as pitch, but were polished to perfection. She wore a pomegranate-colored top with short sleeves and a jeweled neckline, and over the top was a tailor-fitted silver corset. She had fingerless gloves that ran up to her elbow, which creaked as she balled her fist at the newcomers.

“If you’re coming over here to make me apologize for those two buffoons.” Said the girl, the hint of a Romanian accent in her voice. “I will not.”

“Those two? Oh, they’re idiots. No, we were more excited to shake hands with someone who could make them scream like that.” Ian laughed.

“They said you might be a witch…” Gabbie began as she leaned against the pillar, her voice dropping into what could only be described as an awkward faux baritone. “I’d have to agree. I’m already under your spell.”

The witchy girl raised her eyebrow and flicked her wrist. A rune lit up under Gabbie’s feet and flashed a bright light, knocking the catgirl high into the air. Ian sighed and outstretched his hand, a billowy light construct appearing in the air and catching her just in time.

“Gabriella, you useless lesbian…” he sighed as he dropped her on to the ground.

“If you do not wish to befall the same fate as your promiscuous friend…” growled the gothic girl, her eyes beginning to glow and her voice taking an ethereal tone. “Then you will take your leave of me!”

“Neat trick!” Ian chirped, patting the girl on the shoulder. “I can do that too. Well, not the voice thing. But I can make my eyes glow.”

“Ian! You’re ruining my game, here!” Gabbie groaned as she got to her feet.

“You have as much game as the Puppy Bowl. Stop harassing this poor girl.” Ian countered. “I’m Ian. This is my sister Gabbie. We flew in from America.”

The gothic girl blinked at the two outstretched hands. She looked at their owners, then their hands, then back to the people. She clasped both of their hands gingerly, questioningly, before speaking.

“My name is Nicoleta Damian. I have come from Romania. I... did not expect people to actually seek out my company.”

“Well, once the three of us make it into UA, we can do plenty more socializing.” Ian assured her, giving her a reassuring pat on the back.

“ORIENTATION WILL BEGIN IN TENNNNN MINUTTTEEESSSS!!!!”

As the screeching voice of Present Mic roared over the campus, Gabbie and Nicoleta covered their more sensitive ears, Ian instantly beginning to fuss over his sister and make sure her hearing wasn’t damaged. He frantically began to sign at his sister, much to her chagrin. After a minute of assuring her brother, the three took a deep breath.

“Well, I guess it’s time.” Ian said, nervously. Nicoleta nodded, unsure of his words, and Gabbie simply grinned and gave him the thumbs-up. They began to take their steps inside but--

SMACK!

Silence. Ian knew that sound. That was the unmistakable sound of an open palm hitting flesh. He looked around to see the source of the sound and saw a look of horror on his sister’s face. Several feet behind him were the two boys who had been scared off by Nicoleta, all color drained from their face. He looked down and saw the small boy with purple, grape-like hair ogling his sister, having clearly just done something inappropriate. The sneer on his face was horrendous.

“Hoo! You two were right! She’s got a figure for days! I can’t wait to become a hero so that I can get babes like this!” The small child hooted.

A guttural growl echoed in the air as Gabbie’s form began to change. Her clothing ripped until only her form-fitting gym clothing remained as she shifted into her lycanthropic Hybrid form. Her body sprouted fur, her face shifted into a snout, and her muscles gained much more definition. She easily picked up the 3ft tall boy by his collar and roared in his face as she snatched the security ID from his neck before throwing him into the air like a volleyball and then punching him hard enough that he sailed out of the gate that lead into the campus. As he landed outside, the UA Barrier detected his badge-less presence and the steel wall slammed shut. The growling form of Gabbie marched back over to the two boys and looked down on them.

“I guess I know why Nicoleta wanted to throw you now, huh? If you could make friends with scum like that so easy.” She fumed, hoisting the two up like she did the other. “If I see either of you back at home when we land...you’re mincemeat.”

She dropped the two and watched them scurry into the school, proverbial tails between their legs. Gabbie let out a sigh as she let her human form return. “So. Let’s get inside, shall we? Suddenly, I’m rather chilly.”

The three sat next to each other, finding seats next to a girl who, for all appearances, seemed to be hiding from onlookers by shielding her face with her waist-length hair. As Present Mic rambled on, explaining the rules of the exam, Gabbie continued to converse with Nicoleta. Ian, however, noticed the girl next to them fidgeting with her handout uncomfortably. Her hand movements, the gestures she made towards herself, were familiar, and, on a hunch, Ian tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to him, and Ian began to use sign language.

-Hey. Do you need help?- Ian asked her using American Sign Language. Her eyes immediately lit up.

-I’m surprised to find someone who knows ASL here! I’m sorry I just...I’m still learning Japanese. Plus, Present Mic is so...loud! It’s hard to make out what he’s saying.- The girl signed.

-It’s okay. Here, let me go over everything really quick. I’m Ian.- Ian signed, first spelling out his name, then giving his Sign Name that he had received while learning ASL several years ago.

-I’m Chae-Yeong Moon.- She replied, also spelling out her name and then giving her Sign Name.

Ian took time to explain the point system and warn her of the zero-point “arena traps” in each city. She nodded through his explanation, and just as he was wrapping up, the announcement came over the intercom directing them to the busses that would escort them to their respective cities. Ian and Gabbie shared a brief embrace before taking the busses that would escort them to their battlegrounds. Ian and Chae-Yeong found themselves in Battleground C. Gabbie and Nicoleta found themselves in battleground D. The four each stretched and prepared themselves in their own ways as they prepared for the ten minute battle to come.

Ian stepped aside for a moment and reached into a pocket in his tracksuit. He pulled out a glasses case and opening revealing a steampunk-looking pair of goggles with multiple sets of lenses that could be flipped up or down into the slots on the goggles. Ian took the goggles out and put his glasses into the case instead. He quickly flicked in the lenses that let him see the normal light spectrum and then began testing out the other lenses. One let his eyes see infrared- another, UV. He smiled at this fleeting moment of control over the optic portion of his quirk.

As he flicked back the infrared lenses he saw a flare-up; a hotspot building on a large spot near a person's foot. He returned to his normal vision and saw a girl with dazzling pink hair wearing a strange rig along their midsection, and large metal boots on their feet. She turned in his general direction for a moment and he saw her crosshair-like irises telescope on the things they focused on. As they zoomed on him, his heart skipped a beat.

“Miss!” Ian said as he ran up to her. “I-I don’t want to startle you, but your boot is going to overheat if you don’t do something soon.”

“Nonsense! My babies are hand-crafted, flawless creations...that actually, come to think of it, are getting pretty warm.” The girl muttered. She hopped out of the boots like a rabbit and flipped open their maintenance panels, which was placed wear the tongue would be on a normal shoe. Steam poured out and Ian coughed at the smell.

“I hate to say I told you so…” He sputtered.

“Hush, darling. Failure is just an opportunity to learn and improve upon your skills!” Shouted the girl as her eyes telescoped in on the problem area. “Damn! I can’t fix this without burning my hands!”

A pair of hard-light pliers, a wrench, and a screwdriver floated over to her field of vision. “Just tell me what you need.”

Mei gasped with delight and quickly began calling out for tools, making short work of the problem plaguing her prototype hover boots. “That should do it! My babies are fixed! You saved them! What was your name again, darling?”

“Ian! A-Allistair Ian!” Ian stammered, his hands shooting up, Ian suddenly not sure of where to put them.

“Thank you, Ian darling.” Mei giggled, kissing the boy on the cheek. “You best ace this exam. That way I can pay you back during the school year.”

“BATTLE START!”

Like many of the other competitors, Ian and Chae-Yeong, as well as Gabbie and Nicoleta, stared at the perch of Present Mic in confusion. The loud-mouthed hero beamed down at their confusion, chuckling slightly.

“WHAT ARE YOU ALL STANDING AROUND FOR?! THERE ARE NO COUNTDOWNS IN REAL BATTLES! RUN! RUN!!!”

[Begin Battle Track 1 - How Far We’ve Come]

Ian flicked down his infrared vision lens on one side and leapt into the air. He began generating platforms to gain height and vision and spotted his targets. He sprinted on his platforms towards a crowd of robots and began concentrating on the shapes that he needed for the battle ahead.

“Spectrum Shift: Bronze Boxer!” Ian cried as he leaped from his vantage point. The translucent constructs began forming around his hands and forearms, forming into bronze-colored gauntlets with spiked knuckles. Strands of light extended up from the interior of the gauntlet, wrapping around Ian’s arms like an extra layer of muscle. The small boy landed on the head of a 1pt robot with a resounding CRASH as the metal and circuits crumpled beneath the impact of his punch. As some of the nearby 2pt and 3pt robots began to lock onto him, Ian raised his arms up and the constructs on his arms began to swirl and change

“Spectrum Shift: Blue Bowman!” The new construct solidified in the shape of a compound bow and Ian began firing off arrows that dissipated as soon as they finished piercing their target. “4 points. 9 points. 11 points…”

Nearby, Chae-Yeong cleared her throat before slowly starting an eerie tune. As her melody increased in volume and intensity a small cluster of boys turned their attention to her, as did the nearby robots. She raised her hands and started moving them as if conducting an orchestra and suddenly the boys turned on the bots, dismantling them in seconds. Among the crowd was one of the boys that had been earlier bothering Nicoleta, ballooned into the shape of a sphere, bouncing around like an entranced human wrecking ball.

As some of the larger, sturdier three-point robots began to arrive and stand between her and her audience. Noting the interruption, but not giving it much thought, Chae-Yeong increased her pitch more and more, before taking a deep breath and letting out an ear-piercing shriek that blew the robots apart piece by piece. She drew her hands down and did a small motion as if to finish her orchestral performance and then began counting on her fingers.

-20 points- she noted with a sly, satisfied grin.

In the other battle ground, Gabbie, in her large, muscular Hybrid form was leaping from building to building to reach her next victim. She pounced upon a 3pt robot and gripped its head, pulling with all her might before wrenching the steel apart from itself. As the robot began to short circuit and fall, she vaulted from its now-frayed neck and leaped to another nearby robot; as the scorpion-like robot aimed its stinger at her she unsheathed her claws and caught herself on the tip of the stinger. She then began rending her way down the stinger, stripping the steel apart and breaking circuits as she went. As she finally landed on the body she used her claws to tear a hole in the top of the body and rip out the machine’s central processor.

“That’s...23 points? I think?” Gabbie said, trying to mentally note her progress. She suddenly felt her fur stand on end and leaped up into the air, causing two 1pt robots to crash into each other at full speed, destroying each other in the process. “Make that 25.”

Nicoleta stood in the middle of a debris filled clearing, her hands outstretched to either side of her. She began to concentrate and light from her skin began to shine through her top as the color slowly left her eyes. With a sweep of her hand, several mystic-looking runes were placed in a circle around her, extending out several feet. As robots began to close in on her from several ranges, the gothic teen made her move. Several of the ranged 2pt robots began to experience malfunctions as a second rune appeared in the air above their midsections and a portal to another plane of existence opened, pulling half of the robot through it - before quickly snapping shut, severing the machine in two.

As the ranged robots began to drop in numbers, the 1pt robots sped in for close range attacks, but were instantly catapulted into the air by the runes placed ground like landmines - with the amount of energy the runes had been imbued with by their creator, the fall was enough to crumple the fragile 1pt bots. As the larger 3point robots began to menacingly approach, they tripped Nicoleta’s second layer of runes; plumes of flame erupted forth from the ground, and each subsequent explosion took a new victim with it. The small Romanian girl opened a portal near her and retrieved a large mallet from her pocket dimension and proceeded to smash any robotic remnants that had survived her landmines before returning to her mark and setting up a new web of traps and taking out a notebook and taking down tallies.

“That makes 30.”

“TIME UP!!! WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PARTICIPATION! PLEASE RETURN TO THE LOCKERS, RETRIEVE YOUR CLOTHES AND DEPART. YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO HOME, BUT YOU CAN’T STAY HERE.”

And just like that, it was over. All the preparation, all the training, led to 10 minutes of sweaty effort and an anticlimactic finish. Though, Gabbie would later note, that’s what one should be expecting in high school. They bid goodbye to Nicoleta and Chae-Yeong, making sure to get their contact information, as they wanted to stay in touch just in case none of them made it into the school. After a rather solemn post-exam outing with their classmates, the teens packed up and got ready for the flight the next morning.

Seven days came and seven days went. Gabbie and Ian were beginning to resign themselves to the idea that they had truly failed the exam. But then, as they arrived home from school one day, Ian began going through the mail as per usual.

“Gabbie…” he muttered

“What?” she sighed through a mouthful of food

“It’s here.”

“What is?”

“Our UA letter is here.”

“Come again?”

“IT’S HERE!!!”

Before Ian could say that they should wait for their family, Gabbie had torn open the envelope and begun to play the message. There, on the holo-screen that appeared before them, was the chiseled visage of the world’s #1 hero - All Might.

“GREETINGS! FORGIVE ME, YOUNG ONES, FOR NOT REACHING OUT TO YOU SOONER! THERE WERE SOME RECENT HOOPS TO JUMP THROUGH, AS IT HAS RECENTLY BEEN DECIDED THAT I WILL BE TEACHING AT UA BEGINNING IMMEDIATELY!”

“All Might is going to be one of the teachers?!” Ian gasped

“Shush!” Gabbie hissed, slapping the back of his head.

“Besides that…” All Might continued, his voice coming down from a shout to a stage whisper “There have been things that needed sorting out here. Several of the students had examinations that needed special tending to. You, young Ian and young Gabriella are two of these students. Let’s take a look…”

“The written exams you submitted were very different. Not uncommon for siblings, but also telling. Young Ian! A PERFECT SCORE! Young Gabriella...a 70%. Good Work.”

“The Practical Exam told a different story…” All Might shuffled through the papers, stifling a cough as he took a breath to continue his speech. The two siblings stiffened as they listened intently. And, unbeknownst to them, their comrades in arms from the exam also tensed at that same moment; Nicoleta and Chae-Yeong listened to All Might’s words on their own exam scores with baited breath.

“Young Ian...you scored a total of 30 points. You failed the exam for the Hero Course. Young Gabriella. With a score of 49 points, you also failed the Hero Course. You will be placed in class 1-C for General Studies.”

“Young Chae-Yeong. 35 points. Fail. General Studies.”

“Young Nicoleta. 40 points. Fail. General Studies.”

All Might’s recorded visage paused, rubbing the back of his head, knowing that he had just shattered the dreams of four children. However, his boisterous laugh soon roared forth from the recording.  

“However, my young stars, if only it were that simple! We were analyzing not only your potential for defeating villains, but we also assigned you rescue points as you went along! This secret value was hidden to encourage you to do truly selfless acts of your own volition!”

All Might turned to a screen behind him and brought up recordings of the four using their powers for acts besides smashing robots during the exam. Ian was holding up barriers to protect other examinees from falling rubble. Gabbie was shown in her full Beast form, leaping in and picking up a scared examinee by the back of their shirt, just narrowly escaping a laser blast. Chae-Yeong was shown conducting her “audience” away from a barrage of missiles and Nicoleta shoved (rather forcefully) several examinees through portals that placed them safely outside her danger zone.

“With this in mind, let’s update those scores, SHALL WE?! Young Ian! Rescue points: 25! Total points: 55! HERO COURSE: PASS! Young Gabriella! Rescue points: 5…! Total points: 54! HERO COURSE: PASS!”

“Young Chae-Yeong! Rescue Points: 20! Total points: 55!”

“Young Nicoleta! Rescue Points: 10! Total Points: 50!”

“Congratulations, HEROES! But wait, there’s more! Normally, these scores would land you in our second-highest class: Class 1-B. But that class is already full up for the semester...however thanks to you, and several other promising students, I, the principal, and the staff of UA have decided to expand the Hero Program to Class 1-C! Let me be the first to congratulate you! Not even your first day and you’re already bending fate to your liking! Get ready young ones! For now UA is your...HERO ACADEMIA!!!!”

[fandomlife-giver]

His Maid, Overtime: 1

Summary: There are times when a blooming flower can be trapped by the thorns it uses to its will. It is trapped until the thorns are cut to a fine. A crow's beak is it's Savior. And it takes this beauty in its mouth to embrace her tightly...Ahem, apologies, I was lost in thought.

Next time on Black Maid "His Maid, Overtime" You see, I am simply one hell of a maid.

Pairings: Almost Sebastian x Demon!reader

@wintersdoll​

Warnings: Some smut, some violence

Word Count: 3328

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

You let out a breathy sigh once his lips brushed against your cheek, then left a trail of kisses to your lips.

You opened your eyes as his arms wrapped around you. "This is so wrong..."

He smirked and you let out a yelp once his hands traveled down and firmly grasped your ass. "Sebastian!!"

He lowered himself, his eyes still locked with yours as his lips went under your chin and down your neck. You bit your lip and threw your head back once he slowly unhooked your garders and pulled them down.

He bit the tip of your glove and slid it down off your fingers while also pulling your skirt down. He traveled back up by unbuttoning the bottom to the top. Once he reached the top, the shirt fell to the floor. You were now in only a corset.

You looked at him unsurely as he began to untie the laces of the back. And at a very fast pace. "We should not..."

You found yourself turning to leave, but he grabbed your arms and pulled your back to his chest. His lips moved to your ear. "I have waited far too long for this. Let me enjoy myself."

"I don't think we should—"

"Shh..." It was when he moved his pale finger to your lips, pulling them down slightly, it was then did you realize he was bare.

He embraced you tightly and breathed in your scent. "Y/N..."

"Y/N..."

"Y/N!"

Hmm, yes my crow?

Your eyes opened up and you were greeted with Sebastian staring down at you in concern. "Y/N? Are you alright?"

Your eyes widened as you shot up from your spot. "What?" You looked around, realizing you were on the floor of Ciel's bedroom.

You looked back to him with heavy breaths. "What's going on?"

"Well, you weren't in the kitchen, we've been looking for you everywhere, and I came in when I heard a noise to find you here, unconscious. I was concerned. Now, is everything alright?"

It was all a dream? But..it felt so real...

"Um...yes." You folded your hands together and smiled. "Everything is fine...I was just..um..."

"Oh, my. You're bleeding."

What?

You glanced down and saw blood and a small hole in the center, between your breasts. Oh, well that's new

You pinched your fingers inside the hole and dug in, until you grasped onto something, and you pulled out a small iron ball. A bullet.

You stared, then looked up at him. "Sebastian, did you say you heard a noise?"

He frowned. "Yes. It sounded like something was shattered."

You looked back at the bullet. Shatter?

Flashback...

You let the door close as you walked into Ciel's room. You went to the bed and began to change the sheets, but stopped once you heard a click outside the window.

"Oh, lord Phantomhive..."

Your brows furrowed as you turned, but you were immediately stopped when the window shattered and a bullet flew by straight into your chest.

Your eyes widened as you saw her wave at you with a wink, and you collapsed.

You growled and quickly stood up to turn and look behind you. Your eyes narrowed at the shards of glass, but the culprit was long gone.

"Damn you, Azah."

He rose an eyebrow. "Azah?"

You turned and frowned. "It's nothing of concern, for now. Just some old friends."

"Old friends, you say?"

You sighed as you walked to the door. "Never mind." You both left the room, but as you walked down the hall next to him, a thought came to mind. "While I was unconscious, did I happen to say anything...interesting?"

He rubbed his chin and hummed. "Interesting? No."

You let out a breath of relief. Good.

"Just moaned my name a couple of times."

You froze, stopped in your tracks with wide eyes while Sebastian kept walking with a smug smirk. . . .

"A rock?" Ciel stared at you in confusion. "The window was shattered by a rock?"

You smiled. "Yes, just a harmless accident, sir."

"Huh." He sat back in his chair and pondered for a second. "Alright, we'll have it replaced. You may return to your duties."

You put a hand over your stomach and bowed your head. "Thank you, master."

As you and Sebastian turned the leave the room, you were stopped. "Where do you think you're going? I didn't excuse you."

Sebastian looked back at him and rose his eyebrows. Ciel kept his head down as he wrote. "You are still being punished. Go check on those servants— or better yet, bring me my tea and make yourself useful."

You heard him scoff under his breath, but he still smiled and bowed his head. "As you wish, my lord."

You smiled to yourself as you walked out of the room.

Ciel didn't look up as Sebastian placed his tea in front of him. "There you are, sir."

He only received a hum in response.

Sebastian looked down at him with narrowed eyes. "Master?"

"What?"

"I was wondering as to when this so called "punishment" will be over?"

"When I say it is. Now, is that all?"

When he didn't hear a response, Ciel looked up to meet Sebastian's curious gaze.

"I couldn't help but notice your change of attitude towards Y/N. You don't seem as cold and impatient as you usually are."

He scoffed. "Don't be stupid. I favor her at the moment because she hasn't gone against my orders."

"Perhaps...or, just maybe, it's because you still have some unannounced feelings towards her."

He choked on his tea. As he violently coughed, Sebastian stared at him with an emotionless face.

He looked up at him with a scowl, but the redness to his cheeks was a giveaway. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

The room was silent as Sebastian stared at him. It was clear he wasn't buying it, but after a few moments, he bowed his head.

"My apologies, sir. I will resume my duties."

Ciel watched him walk out of the room, and it wasn't until he closed the door, did he breath a sigh of relief. "That was too close."

"However—"

"Ah!"

He jumped when Sebastian slammed a file on the desk. "This says differently."

He looked at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing?! Your supposed to be working!"

"You forget I'm not the only one here running this manor. The head maid has already taken care of everything. Now..."

He pushed the file to him. "Why don't we take a little trip down memory lane, hm, master?"

Ciel gulped. "I don't know what you hope to prove by this, it's just a silly old file—"

"Humor me. Please." He smiled, but it only made him uneasy.

He let out a breath and reached over to open the file. He was met with articles, medical files, and reports of a missing person.

"Do you remember your response to Prince Soma's outburst at dinner?"

Flashback...

Ciel looked at you, and you saw something present in his eyes; an emotion you haven't seen since the night of your master's death, then he looked at Soma.

"Yes, I do."

Soma's face fell as Ciel's turned emotionless. "Although, not despair, the loneliness of isolation is something I may know well." He slapped Soma's hands away and pushed him out of his way. "Don't make the mistake that you are the only one here who has lost something. It doesn't matter who you are, your pride makes you believe something like that gives you great despair, than I don't understand it, and I don't care to."

"Your words had a deeper meaning than you revealed. Tell me, did you even tell Y/N that after her disappearance, the first order you gave me was to find her?"

He looked down and started to sink in his seat.

"Did you tell her of the nightmares you had of it being her that was tortured and humiliated?"

He kept a scowl as he turned his chair to him.

"Or even—" He grabbed his chair and turned it around so his face was close to his. "Of your infatuation with her."

"Stop it."

"You know you cannot deny it. It's written all over your face when you look at her."

"That's enough!" He banged his hands on the desk and stood up to stare coldly at him. "Fine. Since you're so determined for me to admit it, I will! Ever since I was a child, she's the one person whose ever truly stayed by my side. When she returned, at first I was angry at the fact of what she was, but now, I see that doesn't matter. You only want her for what she is, and I will not allow that. She is mine, not yours, and I will not let you have her!"

Sebastian's laughter made Ciel stop his ranting. "Young master. The only reason she's here is because she was given an order by her master, Vincent Phantomhive. It is because his soul still exists and the contract that remains in tact, that she has to finish that order."

"You're wrong. My father is dead."

"Yes, but his soul is very much alive. As long as it is existing and in her possession, the contract remains. Did you really believe she was her for you?"

"Don't. I know what you're trying to do and it won't work. She cares, unlike everyone else here."

His smile fell to a frown. "Dear, you really are a child, aren't you? Have you forgotten what she is? Demons do not feel."

"She's not just a demon!"

Sebastian rose an eyebrow as Ciel sighed. "You do know of her ancestry. A part of her is human, in other words she can feel. The choice remains hers whether or not she will allow herself to have those emotions."

"And it is because of this, you think you will win? This so called "punishment", this rouse of yours, it won't last forever. Honestly, between the two of us, who do you think she will choose?"

Sebastian lowered his gaze to the floor. "Your claim that I only desire her for what she is, is false—not true. At first, perhaps, but now...things have changed. She is unlike any other demon I've met alone, and females, their only goal is to find a male for their own. She wanted nothing to do with me, but very slowly, her walls to shield herself are crumbling."

He smirked. "She has a fire in her I cannot extinguish. Yet, you have it in your head you can tame her? I have given an arm for her, I have killed for her and told her how she affects me. What have you done? You've insulted her, faulted her, made her believe she means nothing to you. You've under appreciated her and abused her."

He grabbed the hand Ciel slapped you with. "Don't you see? It's time to face facts, I can give her everything you can't and more. I will have her. She will be mine and I will worship her both for what and who she is."

"Get off!" Ciel pulled his arm away from his grip.

Sebastian smiled and bowed his head. "Let the best man—oh, sorry—male win." With a frown, Ciel watched Sebastian walk out of the room, chuckling to himself. . . .

You crept around the bushes. Your eyes scanned through the branches as you ventured deeper into the woods. I know you're here, Azah. I can smell your disgusting scent.

The sound of twigs breaking made your head snap in the direction it came.

"Meow?"

"Oh, my! How'd you get here, little fella?" Your eyes widened when Finny picked you up and rubbed his cheek against yours.

"Meow!" You used your paws to push his face away. Honestly, there's no time for this!

"Aw, it's okay, you don't have to be afraid. I'll be your friend!"

No thank you, I have enough friends as it is!

You hissed and scratched his hand with your claws.

"Ow! Hey, wait!" He reached out as you jumped from his arms and climbed up a nearby tree.

That was close. What does a feline have to do to snoop in privacy around here!

"There you are."

Your ears went up at the voice, and when you felt hands grab you, you immediately used your claws to grab onto the branch.

Damn, not again!

"Meow! Hiss!" Despite your resistance, you were hanging from the branch with your nails deep inside.

"Hmm, that looks oddly comforting. Hang in here, baby."

Damn you! Damn you to he—

You screeched as he pulled you off. You clawed, kicked and hissed, but he only chuckled.

"Now, now, no need to fret, my kitten."

You froze your movements with your large red eyes opening to be met with similar amused ones. My kitten?

If cats could blush, you were sure you would be right now. But he couldn't tell, so you narrowed your eyes. "Meow. Meow. Meow."

Put. Me. Down.

He smirked and rubbed your chin. You tried to move your head away, but the more he did it, the more you moved closer. *Purrrr*

Flashback...

You involuntary closed your eyes by his touch. *Purrrrrr*

The vibrations of his deep chuckle ran throughout your body, which didn't exactly help your current situation.

The next thing you knew, a pair of lips were being smashed against yours. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, which only gave him an advantage as his tongue slipped into your mouth and wrestled with yours until it explored every part over and over.

Your ears shot up as you looked away. Ugh, why did I have to think of that now?

You pushed his gloved hands away and jumped out of them, attempting to crawl away.

"Y/N"

You groaned and looked back at him over your shoulder, but he was reaching up into the tree and plucked something from the branch. He stared at it, then glanced at you.

You stepped back as he knelt down and opened his palm to you. You peered inside curiously. It was a bullet shell.

You looked back up to bet met with Sebastian's cold eyes. "A rock, was it?"

"Meow?" . . .

You kept your eyes emotionless as Sebastian led you down the hallway with his hand firmly grasping your arm.

Someone seems a little unhappy.

That was an understatement, since his grip was so tight to where you couldn't even feel your arm anymore and it took everything not to show his demonic side and really give you hell.

He slammed the kitchen for open, and it was a miracle no-one was there, or we may have been one servant short. He finally let you go and stood behind you.

"You will tell me everything. Now."

Demanding, are we? Not that I have any objections...

"Do calm down, we don't another mess to clean up."

"Y/N"

You turned to face him at the harshness in his voice. He had a darkness in his eyes. And if you were being honest, it was very alluring. But you would never admit that aloud.

"Very well, if you insist. When I was forced to forever be damned in hell after the death of my mother and father, there was a demon named Azah that was in charge of torturing me. She continues to be very fond of her job. But soon after, it was time for the picking of a new personal slave for his majesty, and once he saw into my...abilities, he took an interest in me. I became his favorite pet very quickly, and during that time, I was, well...watched over by a demon named Luesir. We spent plenty of daily time together, and he developed a fascination towards me. They were partly the reason I left."

You paused to reach into your pocket and pull out the bullet you found in your chest earlier. "The morning of the master's birthday, Azah lured me into the forest with a song we sing to the tortured souls and they revealed themselves."

"And why were they here?" You glanced back up at Sebastian, who held a curious look.

"To take me back." His face fell. "Naturally, I refused them. Threatened, even. Yet, it seems they're a bit persistent."

He rose an eyebrow. "Persistent?"

"Well, considering Azah has shot me in the chest...and..."

"And what?"

You bit your lip. "And they may have a target for the young master, believing him to be the key in my return to hell."

His eyes narrowed. "You've involved the young master? Why haven't you informed me of this until now?"

"I didn't believe they would go that far, they may be demons, but they're still mindless slaves. They don't make any decision unless it's ordered by their king."

"This is inexcusable. Anything that is a threat to the master's safety, I need to be notified of. It is our job to ensure it."

You scoffed. "There's no need to worry. They haven't made a move yet. They're just toying with me. It's just a game in their eyes, and they believe they will scare me into going back."

You made movements to walk out of the door, but he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you so your back was to his chest. This made you blush, considering...

You found yourself turning to leave, but he grabbed your arms and pulled your back to his chest. His lips moved to your ear. "I have waited far too long for this. Let me enjoy myself."

Come on, not now

"And what if they manage to persuade you?" His voice was firm, but it was also a little fearful.

"That will not happen."

"Oh? How do you know?"

"Oh, Sebastian, they would fail miserably at attempting to persuade me. I'm not someone that can be persuaded by anyone."

His grip tightened and his voice turned velvety. "Oh, don't be so sure. I happen to be an expert in persuading, my dear. And if you would happen to be pulled away, I would have no choice but to use my methods of persuasion on you to make you stay."

A smirk crawled up your face, but you didn't look back at him. "And what exactly will you do to persuade me?"

You felt his warm breath on your ear as he whispered seductively in a low tone. "I will push you up against the walls and make you groan. I'll worship your body, every square inch of it. I'll paint your skin with my tongue. I promise you this, my kitten, I will not be nice and for you, I will be one hell of a lover."

Your breath caught in your throat. You couldn't make any words, or even think of any.

You spun around and looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of bluffing. But there was nothing. He meant what he said, and that only made your insides melt.

"...Se-Sebastian..."

"Aghhhhh!!!"

The sounds screams coming from the other side of the door made you look back. He pushed the door open and you both ran out. Your eyes widened.

Sebastian was focused on Bard, who was loading his flame thrower with lighter fluid, and quickly ran over to snatch it away from him, while Finny and Met-Run were screaming and trying to stomp them out with brooms.

You were frozen as you watched them crawl everywhere. Scorpions. Everywhere.

As they destroyed the some of them, the rest crawled around your feet and out the door, down the hall.

You slowly turned to watch them as Sebastian walked back over to you with a frown.

"It appears I was wrong." You looked up at him. "There is a need to worry."

You glanced down as they crawled over Sebastian's feet and completely ignored yours. "They're here." You looked at him knowingly.

"They're in the manor."